tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71739679917841781802024-03-12T19:40:50.809-07:00The Lord's Dwelling PlaceSheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-27972022253810332412013-10-12T19:13:00.000-07:002013-10-12T19:13:13.115-07:00New BlogHello Blog Followers,<br />
<br />
Please follow me to a new site. <a href="http://thelordsdwellingplace.com/">http://thelordsdwellingplace.com</a>. The blogspot blog has been a wonderful begining. I have accpeted the challenge to step it up a little and this is where you can find me. :) Thank you for sharing this blog with other cancer survivors. I pray that continues. People are still reading everyday which is quite humbling. I am moving in a new direction and hope that you follow me down a new trail! <br />
<br />
Much Love, <br />
Sheri Page<br />
<br />
<br />
It's a Do Over! <br />
<br />
I originally started to write on another blog <a data-mce-href="http://thelordsdwellingplace.blogspot.com/" href="http://thelordsdwellingplace.blogspot.com/">http://thelordsdwellingplace.blogspot.com/</a> a couple of years ago, because I felt " called". Then, lo and behold within a month I found out that I had breast cancer. I continued to write-through the entire cancer process, from finding out about the cancer at a screening to a bilateral mastectomy and recovery from chemotherapy... I received an amazing amount of encouragement from friends and strangers who asked me to continue writing. I was finally convinced to keep going when I stumbled on a back screen on my old blog one day and found that thousands of people from all over the world had taken the cancer journey with me, through writing!<br />
<br />
Eventually, I found myself at a writer's conference and realized that writing has a lot more to do with "marketability" then any of us realized! There is a need to have a "Platform" before a publishing company will consider someone as a serious author. You can write and it can be a great; However, you need to help sell books and the magazine articles or they will find a writer who can. Making a move to a WordPress gives credence to a writer. I'm not sure why or how just yet, but it does. So, here I am! New and improved blog? New and improved message? New and improved messy life? New and improved... fill in the blank here__________.<br />
<br />
So, on this blog I most likely will not have exciting news about cancer. Let's hope I don't have any news at all about that topic. I will blog about dyeing to my selfishness needs and try my hardest to share Jesus with you from the events in my everyday life. I will share one very important conclusion about cancer with you though and then we can be done with it. I am glad for the gift of cancer. I am GLAD! I thank God often for allowing me the opportunity to really consider what is important in life. How many days do I really have and how can I best use them... what purpose can I make out of them?<br />
<br />
Upon this consideration, many things had to change. I had to change the way I responded to offense. I had to change what I pursued and why I pursued it. I changed my mind about the things I thought I needed to control and people who disappointed me. I giggle when I think about how different everything is from my new short dark hair to the inner crevices of my heart and I am so grateful! I stood at the door or mortality and was forced to knock on it to see if it would open. It did not open. Whew!<br />
It's a Do Over! A Second Chance and I say that with a smile! Come with me and explore life!Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-4015473918461610912013-05-04T17:34:00.001-07:002013-05-04T18:03:32.947-07:00Angel Armies <span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Have you ever noticed how many sounds are in the quiet
places in your life? Have you ever longingly waited for a phone call or for a
letter from someone whom you adore? Have you found yourself holding your breath
when you saw something amazing before your eyes? Can you recall a time when you
waited for a baby to be born? I bet you can remember an old commercial
illustrating anticipation as we all waited for ketchup to roll out of the
bottle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When cancer treatment is over and your hair grows back,
anticipation remains. My loved ones have moved on, the emergency is over. God has
set me down and is expecting me to walk again. The bubble that I’ve lived in
for the past 15 months is dissolving. My energy is back and I’m crossing things
off of my bucket list, but anticipation just won’t disappear. Everything is
returning to normal. However, I am not normal anymore… or then again, some
might say I never was!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I see things so differently now. I have incredible moments
of clarity, but there are moments when my head is submerged in the clouds. This
vanishing cocoon of affection, protection and weekly Dr.’s visits alarms me.
Don’t you see that I will never be the same again? I will hang my hat on HOPE
for the rest of my days and anticipation will nestle itself in my soul for a
while longer to make my heart race. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Constant encouragement and supervision of my health, dare I
say, has rendered me handicapped somehow in some way? My last chemo treatment
was the most terrifying of all because it meant that we wouldn’t be killing
cancer anymore. How do I know we got it all? How do I know it won’t start to
grow again? Anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The overwhelming love and attention received was a great
distraction and shelter from my reality. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The doctors have faded back out of view; the
flowers and meals have stopped coming and the tender encouragement is diminishing.
This weaning makes me want to grip dependence, because it feels lonely. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s <span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">unpleasant and </span>necessary to get sober in thought. It’s a terribly needy place to rise from and one I don’t want to be seen
in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is the quiet place in life. It's after a near miss. It's when the whirlwind storm is over. This is normal again? Not so much! Dear Lord, let me hear
the sound of your Angel Armies in my quiet place. Let my mind be strong and my tomorrow bright.</span></div>
Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-60945409484058971892013-04-25T21:56:00.001-07:002013-04-25T21:56:03.683-07:00The First Pitch
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Her name was Mary. I caught her out of the corner of my eye
when I was waiting for instructions from the young volunteer organizing our
event. Mary stood with authority, with certainty, with mastery and a gigantic
smile as if this were the most important thing in her life. I turned quickly to
see the full form of this powerful presence in my peripheral vision. The teal
colored glasses, pink baseball cap and a jovial voice gave me every sign that
she didn’t care if the world approved; she was comfortable in her own skin. Something
about that gave me comfort and I didn’t even know her. But WOW!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The eight of us survivors gathered on a bright glorious
Sunday afternoon to throw out 8 unanimous first pitches. It was the first time
I dared to mingle with other cancer survivors. Until now, I would just prefer
to wipe the dust off my feet, clip the apron strings and move on from this horrible
frightening world of the unknown. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something deep down said that if I hang out
with these people who live with the same threat to their bodies that I live
with, then I will never really live again. I’ll be stuck in this pit of
sickness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How can you live with a gun pointing at you all the time? If
I get stressed, maybe it will come back. That makes me run for cover and avoid
people who walk with flailing arms. If exercising is supposed to be cancer
fighting, can you tell me what will happen if I’m too tired or don’t get to it?
Does that mean I die? Ridicules thoughts… I know!!! Mary doesn’t think they are
so ridicules though, because she has them too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In fact, Mary is a 4 time survivor. She was told just 3
years ago that she only had 1 year to live. She laughs at the thought of not
buying green bananas for that first year. She had to slowly convince herself
that it was okay to buy toilet paper in bulk after the second year rolled on by
and not a cancer cell could be found anywhere in her body. Her triple negative
breast cancer had previously metastasized to her lungs… but no sign of cancer
today. She said, “I am learning to live again,” as our conversation moved to
the dugout while we waited for our signal to walk on the field. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I realized that the eight of us are playing on the same team
and it’s time I get to know other survivors. Who else but my team would want to
know the play by play details of the survival game? They can hear the same
cheering or the same booing depending on the latest blood work up. These gals
know what’s it’s like to wonder if IT will <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>welcome back and they are not afraid to
whisper it from their silent screaming voices. Thank you God , that I can be
okay in my uncomfortable skin while in their presence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We won the baseball game that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-19156823032669815872013-04-11T10:00:00.000-07:002013-05-04T15:46:34.758-07:00The Scar is a sign of beauty, really. It's been one year and 3 months today. The focus is now on survival. My "TEAM" of doctors watch my health carefully with blood panel work ups and face to face meetings. What one doctor doesn't measure, the next one does. The appointments seem to be every month. They share information and keep one another posted as I travel from office to office surrendering my blood and taking off my top to examine The Scar. <br />
<br />
I think The Scar would horrify anyone but the person it lives with. One of my sisters who is a surgical nurse encouraged me to google mastercomy images so I could prepare myself before surgery. I think it brought on a hot flash when I first saw what it looked like. Go ahead and google it for yourself and you will see what I mean.. whew. Today, when I look in the mirror I see something very normal looking. I see a close call. I see abounding love. I see my unborn grandchildren. I see God's Almighty hand reaching down to touch my life and increase my days. I see cleavage where there is none!<br />
<br />
Each doc educates me on how to watch for cancer's possible return, in The Scar. They are adorable the way they try to describe it and the way they try to alert me without alarming me. They also encourage me to eat right, get rest, drink water... that's lots of water and exercise. KNOW your body! Listen to what it says, more importantly <strong>respond</strong> to it.<br />
<br />
Keep your stress low! Now that's funny. This is a flat out crash course on letting go. <br />
My TEAM, what amazing doctors and compassionate care givers they are. Me and my Scar.. we're going to be just fine living together. Thank you God! Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-12965634522204779782013-04-08T10:32:00.001-07:002013-04-08T10:32:51.343-07:00Gone crazy, be back soon<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wj2B0t5xOTA/UWIvgAJPQsI/AAAAAAAAADc/AOQiv75Lj-Q/s1600/gone+crazy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wj2B0t5xOTA/UWIvgAJPQsI/AAAAAAAAADc/AOQiv75Lj-Q/s200/gone+crazy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
My crazy is showing again! Top ten reasons why you are not yourself: <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#10 You say, "huh" a lot when people are talking to you.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#9 You find yourself thinking about what you are thinking about. AKA over
thinking. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#8 Concerned with ME, ME and ME.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#7 You misunderstand a party invitation which is immediately followed by
being misunderstood. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#6 Your husband says a week later, "Are we still talking about
this?"<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#5 You want to crawl in a hole because you know your Crazy is loose and could devour someone. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#4 You don't really know what's going on so you assume the very WORST.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#3 Your loved ones want to help, so they tell you everything you've done
wrong.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#2 You want to be in your right mind, but instead you've actually left your
mind.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
And the number one reason you know you're not yourself. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
#1 You ask yourself and others, have I gone crazy? <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<br />
This folks is what it looks like when your crazy is showing. This is war!
It's a spiritual war which has been requested and approved. If I belong to God,
nothing can touch me unless it is filtered through His hand. It's meant to reveal your crazy spot so you
can grow. The bigger the war and chaos, the more we have potential for growth.
After a non-stop crazy week of miscommunication, insult, correction and
accusation I finally had some clarity. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
These symptoms of craziness held the keys to a deeper truth when held up to
the Light. When we stop trying to figure it out by way of reasoning or
justification and stand circumspectly before God, we can get answers. This is
the Lord's Dwelling Place where truth and honesty is revealed and where no fear
of harm and condemnation can be found. In this Dwelling Place we can come
boldly to our King and ask for examination. I know that His Grace is mighty! I
brought my Crazy to His throne room. He took it and gave me peace in its place.
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
In the still quiet voice of my heart, I heard Him say:<o:p></o:p><br />
Forgive unmet expectations; remove the idols from your life that put people
and things above My Holy name. Don't bend in your integrity because it will
cause you to have a skewed vision and misinterpret situations. Come under your
husband's covering and don't walk outside of it- EVER. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
The simple point here is that we must Abide in Christ. John 15:1-11 has the
word (abide) 10 times. That's 10 times in 11 verses! When you've plunged into
crazy, tuck, pray and Abide in His love. Remember His promise to restore you
and protect you in ALL circumstances. This was just a test! <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-42483696443822843682013-01-14T16:51:00.002-08:002013-01-14T16:55:14.796-08:00One Year Cancer Free<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One year Cancer free! I embraced the joy of this the same
way I might enjoy dancing on a deserted battlefield with a flowing white gown
and tiara as my only weapon, knowing there could be snipers in the brush. My
battlefield looks like Gettysburg, beautifully important and civil. Something wonderful
happened in that place, the echo of sacrificed souls whisper
a reminder of the cost if it should happened again. The silenced war is a peaceful
place for the survivors and the deceased once a new perspective takes place. Did
I really dance on such a field? I thought the day would bring accomplished gratitude
with it, but I wept all day and all weekend, not even a muster of celebration. Weeping
is NOT the same as crying. You cry when you think about your circumstance, but
you weep when you go about your day and the tears arrive anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Perplexing how fast it went by and how fast I settled back into
old habits of just living life. All my emotions of joy and pain, love and loss,
fear and peace where bottled up and shaken on this anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much like the pop of a bottle of Champaign,
my tears couldn’t be contained. You would think I just received the news all over
again. Delayed reaction I presume. Suck it up, put your shoulders back and march
forward, keeping focus doesn’t allow for much reflection. That’s what busy will
get you. One Year Anniversary is a bizarre acronym for revisiting that torn
battlefield. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How could I not take a monumental stop to pause the world
for just one day so I could say thank you to God for adding 365 days to my life
so far. I was heading into the day with that very mindset when I called a colleague
about real estate and coincidently found her to be a survivor. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is experiencing my greatest fear. She is a
two year survivor this month and they have found a mass on her lung. She seemed
to be in good spirits, but I quietly crumbled on the other end of the phone. I
quickly calculated if that were me I am only another year away from the hostile
sound again. Time goes so quick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Through an aware spirit I remembered the promise I made to
God while laying on that PET scan machine. “I will write if you let me stay” A
deal and bargain I made when all guns were calked and pointing at me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here we are at the point of epic celebration
and I am sweetly and gently reminded that my word has not been kept… YET. I am
so thankful that my Lord factors in my humanity and broken integrity when I don’t
do what I say I will do. I am grateful that He tenderly prepares me to succeed
at His plans for my life. I could have called any agent that all too important
day, but I called the agent who would trigger my forgotten promise. I lift my
glass of bubbly bottled emotion and celebrate 2013 as the year that counts. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-89304683186060626582012-11-29T16:10:00.003-08:002012-11-29T16:10:51.220-08:00Response to your contactC*******VSJ<br />
<br />
I would be happy to talk with you. Please send me your email address in another comment. I have no way to contact you.<br />
<br />Blessings,<br />
Sheri PageSheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-30132933122218314852012-09-13T09:47:00.001-07:002012-09-13T09:47:04.929-07:00Reconstruction... Not Just Yet!
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I just need a minute, a minute without being poked and stretched
and monitored. Reconstruction sounds wonderful but I’m just not ready for
another procedure. My husband, the faithful man that he is, entertains our many
life changes that cancer has brought to our lives. We are making great strides
since the worst of treatment rendered my legs almost paralyzed only being able
to walk the length of my house to the neighbor’s next store. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are training for a 5K! It’s a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>S L O W progress but we can finally run for
10 minutes straight. Wow, what a difference. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are more changes that are coming to our house. Today I threw
out all of our scratched Teflon pans and I’ll be exchanging plastic Tupperware for
glassware. I’m on the lookout for anything broken in my house, heart and mind.
I will repair, fix or throw out. Reconstruction just needs to wait a minute. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m enjoying the run without breasts to strap down and hair to
manage! This reminds me to tell you about a wonderful little place called,
Carols Post Mastectomy Specialists (702) 568-9595, where I found prosthetics. The
attendants there are very compassionate and full of secret hints and
suggestions for us amputees. Boy, I laughed and giggled as I tried on prosthetic
breasts. I tried an A cup and a DD! I asked if I could have one of each, but
chose something in between. There are special bras that fit the prosthetics so
I got a few of those too. It always feels great to get a pretty new bra. You know,
these strap on breasts will work for a few more months. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had a checkup this last week and found that my white blood count
is very low at 4.6. The normal count is somewhere between 11 and 4 so you can
see that I am on the low end. Doc says it is normal to have a decreased WBC
after chemotherapy. I’m trying not to tremble with fear because I realize that
if I get sick, I won’t be able to get better without an immune system. Doc says
that it was only a 3 in March! Gosh, I guess that’s why they call this a fight!
My original instinct was that if I let the doctors do what they do best and if
I do what I can do making better choices then God could do what he wants to do.
I believed then and I believe now that the healing is mine for the taking. Am I strong enough in mind,
body and spirit? Probably not; I can ask for help though. God’s Spirit will
guide me through this maze of recovery and restoration. I’m certain that I’ll be
alright. The answer is in listening to my convictions and responding quickly to
that still quiet voice. Here are a few convictions I've heard: Don't eat sugar, exercise, think good thoughts, be kind and forgive. I have motivation like no other to live right… Livestrong!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve got to go… looking for more broken stuff to get rid of! Much
love my friend. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-26362890274002404082012-08-12T16:52:00.000-07:002012-08-12T17:39:53.815-07:00Why God? Round 4The day before my 4th and final round of treatment I had lunch with a dear friend. She admitted to me that she had often asked, why God after she heard of my diagnosis. Why did it have to happen to Sheri? I was touched that she thought so much of me that she would approach God with this question on my behalf. I admit that I also pondered why, God? Did you catch where that comma was placed? Why, God?<br />
I feel compelled to explain why I chose God instead of asking why He chose me for this trail. In fact it never even occurred to me to ask Him why I had to get this deadly disease. I want to try to describe to you like trying to describe a color to a blind man who has never seen. This is why I chose God. <br />
<br />
I've been called lots of endearing names such as bible thumper, super religious, Jesus freak, self righteous and holier than thou. I love all these terms of endearment because they are a beautiful exchange for other names I was called when I was a very young girl by one of my dad's girlfriends whom I called mom for several years. As a seven year old I heard her substitute my name for Stupid and Dummy. They stung like hollow point bullets that explode in you creating great damage to the internal body As I got a little older at about 11 and in the 5th grade I can vividly remember the back of her hand hitting my face as a casual occurrence Its companion Ugly and Idiot numbed my ears. By the time I was in Jr High school the nick names became more elaborate statements that predicted my future rather then one word triggers and physical assaults. You should have never been BORN, you'll NEVER amount to anything, you are WORTHLESS became not only a mantra spoken to me, but one I began to say to myself. <br />
<br />
This woman who was responsible to mirroring the world to me taught me very early that I was an under dog. (If you are a parent DO NOT handicap your children this way! ) By the time I reached high school the dreaded girlfriend had expired her welcome in my father's house as her gambling addiction was revealed.... then her abuses were revealed. She abused herself far greater than she abused me. I was able to forgive her in the years that followed. Darn it if the damage had not already been done though<br />
<br />
I remember wanting... wanting to go to college. I love education. I love learning, but that's not the route I took. This underdog began to hang out on the wrong corners with the wrong crowd and fell from track athlete and cheerleader to a true underdog I was convinced that I was. By the time I was 16 I had already been victim to date rape. More evidence that I was indeed merely Worthless. There are a million details between the lines of this paragraph and the timeline of my life, but now is not the time. <br />
<br />
It was at the end of my marriage to my children's father that I asked God why? Why was life so hard? Why did He hate me so much that he would allow all these things to happen to me? I fell down to my knees and just surrendered. God, I tried the best I could to live a decent life and I failed. <br />
<br />
The mantra continued....I am a failure, I am worthless, stupid, a dummy and perhaps I should had never been born. So there you go, God! You can have my life. Take me home now, this life is too hard. OR- you can have my life and do with it what ever you want to do. I'm done, I don't have the answers, you do. <br />
<br />
That was the last time I asked God why. From that day, I have carried a peace within me and a knowing that my life is not my own anymore. I gave it away. I gave away the torment, confusion and I was given so much forgiveness that I can't help it if it spills on others. The same with Grace and Mercy. I got an insatiable hunger for the Word and the Truth found on the pages of His love letter. I simply disciplined myself to apply His Truth to life and the transformation began. It hasn't stopped and honestly it never will stop, because no one really arrives at the doorway of perfection and that's okay. <br />
<br />
Now my children were teenagers when I surrendered in 1999. I know that they know their mom has faith, but I'm not sure if they know why? Until now. Ironically, my dream husband lived almost right behind me on a few streets over. We married in 2007 and I kid him often about waiting so long to find me.<br />
<br />
Asking God why I got cancer wasn't even on my radar. Asking God to use my cancer to give others hope and stretch the many observers to a deeper faith is my top priority. God is SOOOO Divine. I was broken, busted, crushed and trampled many times but NONE like this last time.He has rescued me AGAIN!<br />
<br />
And that's Why, God!!!Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-52594406979874363312012-08-12T16:24:00.000-07:002012-08-12T17:41:17.502-07:00I've flipped my wig!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7uoNVH9T4Bo/UCgoTysetII/AAAAAAAAADI/3ytfYZOlCo4/s1600/IMAG0222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7uoNVH9T4Bo/UCgoTysetII/AAAAAAAAADI/3ytfYZOlCo4/s320/IMAG0222.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
Moments of doubt. I think we've all had them, right? Maybe I'm alone in this, but I don't think so. If you have ever doubted, have you doubted liked me? I doubt if I am making the right decisions, I doubt whether I am loved, accepted or even liked from time to time, I doubt strengths and I doubt weaknesses, doubt, doubt, doubt, doubt. Then with my creative mind I assume. Assuming PROVES that all the things I doubted must be true! Holy cow... you must think I'm a little crazy just admitting this, but I'm pretty sure you've had these thoughts too. Let me give you an example; I discovered that every time this blog is read.. the numbers are tracked and a report is generated for the writer's information. Well, I read that report and 4,000 people have read my inner most thoughts about my journey through cancer. Wow, I got a little intimated by that little fact and I began to doubt. Doubt that my writing was good enough for 4,000 people to spend a single moment of their time on. So, I assumed that my insignificant thoughts should just be kept to myself. You've heard the phrase; Kids are to speak when they are spoken to. That was my father's rule, may he rest in peace. I'm equivalent to a big kid waiting to be spoken to. I say this with a giggle because several people are asking about my next post!<br />
<br />
So, I apologize to anyone who has been following my journey. Let me share the last few months with a bird's eye view. As you can see, I've flipped my wig! Man oh man, 110 degrees is just too stinking hot to wear a fur hat in the middle of summer. My hair started to grow back about a month ago, which has really been exciting! In fact, I woke up this morning with a little pillow head and had to scoop a little water in my hand to splash down a couple of smashed hairs. More then one person has made mention of my Jamie Lee Curtis look-a-like style. Wow how liberating it is to towel off and go! I actually feel sorry for women who build their joy around a good hair day or bad hair day! For me, it's a bad hair day everyday. You know what? I'm going to be happy anyway!<br />
<br />
The last Chemo treatment was May 1st. Looking back on it I can say it all went so fast. Believe this or not but my last chemo was the scariest. Because the conclusion meant one thing; we were done fighting- hope we got it all. The doctors said good luck, no guarantees. If it comes back I will live 2-7 years. I have follow-up visits every 3 months. That might sound intense to you, but for me it seems like someone let me out of jail! I have to have my estrogen level tested every three months to make sure the medicine I'm taking is eliminating the production of that hormone. I'll take that medicine for 5 years. I wish I could take it for ever, but they say five years is enough. The estrogen hormone was feeding the cancer. So if they stop it, cancer will not have food to grow. Here's a big surprise, we found out that fat cells produce estrogen too! So It's time for me to finish the <u>weigh less</u> project that I started last year. 45 lbs since last Sept 2011 have slipped away. I need another 15 lbs and then I'll be right where I want to be. <br />
<br />
Doubt and assumption. What a rip off! Let me remember that for the future. Love others! Don't be concerned with the nay sayers and trouble makers. Acts of kindness are good for you, much like eating vegetables. The problem is that I'm the biggest nay sayer in my life! I must not ever doubt the Promise I have in God nor doubt the hope I have that all the cancer was eliminated with treatment. I must have Faith. I must wake up every morning with a grateful heart for another day. 2-7 years if it comes back. I gulp that down when I needed to be reminded the true importance of this life. It is not my to-do list. It is not my career. It is not my security. It is not whether I am accepted. It is simply to live a joy-filled life. Right now, in order to do that I must be reconcilied in every relationship. Got work to do!<br />
<br />
Much Love to You- Think Good Thoughts.... until we talk again!<br />
<br />Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-85005009465876858172012-04-25T02:14:00.000-07:002012-05-06T19:24:35.741-07:00The Spring of 2012<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
</h2>
<br />
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br />
“You expected to be sad in the
fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their
branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew
there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after
it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as
though a young person died for no reason.” <br />
― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1455.Ernest_Hemingway">Ernest Hemingway</a>, <i sizcache="1" sizset="30"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2459084">A Moveable Feast</a></i></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VmLyxYoMx30/T5eqr4ddqOI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YYD4U0nK2zQ/s1600/Las+Vegas-20120422-00122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VmLyxYoMx30/T5eqr4ddqOI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YYD4U0nK2zQ/s320/Las+Vegas-20120422-00122.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
Earnest Hemingway wrote one of my favorite quotes in <i>A Moveable Feast. </i>I love his description of spring. It is so accurate in my opinion to the lessons in life. We know all winter long that we have a hope of spring in the next season. Consider the many different scenarios that define a winter season in life. No matter how dismal the shortened days of winter are, we still hope for newness of life. We are somewhat tormented when cold temperatures, wind and rain seem to suspend spring. Still, there is hope in our patience. We see no good reason for the delay of spring.... until we see and smell the bloom! </div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
I didn't love the day I was diagnosed, but the parallel timing of my circumstance to this favorite quote was sublime. My diagnosis came in the dead of winter on December 15th. Stored away in my heart was this quote and the hope of spring which I think about often. I was so excited to know that in the darkest days of treatment that the grass would turn green and the fruit trees would swell with sweet fruit. I am thrilled that the timing was merciful. This is my third chemo treatment and the rose bushes are blooming! It is something beautiful to focus on and be grateful for.<br />
<br />
Two weeks after my first treatment, I proactively shaved my head to avoid the trauma and frustration of my hair falling out, but now I am shinny bald. Being bald because you shave your head is empowering. Being bald because the quarter inch nubs have fallen out feels entirely different. It is violating. It is exposing. It is humiliating. I had a moment in the process that spoke clearly to my soul that I was not in charge. Swollen faced from the steroids, sunken eyes, rashes, metallic taste in my mouth, enormously tired and grey complexion; I finally break from the constant beating of cold rains. I don't know the woman with the disfigured body in tears who stares back at me in the mirror. Hope. Therefore, I hope for spring, a newness of life and I hope that the frozen river will flow again. This basket of blooming roses point to spring and are a fragrant reminder that something wonderful lies behind this winter. </div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
There is a great transforming purpose to this stripping down that brings humility to fullness. My motives have been exposed. I've been controlling life while trying to find some sort of security. I trusted God while I was searching for this security. Am I the only one who looked for security in the world? I thought financial security would make me invincible. It obviously didn't. The market changed and security was fleeting and cancer came anyway. Truthfully, I never felt as much fear as when I was financially secure. I laid awake many nights fearful that the money would be lost. My motives have been uncovered as I discovered that commitment and loyalty to family would provide security. It didn't. People are human and as unpredictable as spring weather. When they are afraid, they hide. People can't secure you because they are imperfect and flawed. My motives have become transparent to my own eyes as I saw that security can't be found in my status. It can't. Pride is woven so eloquently in affluence that you can barely see where one ends and the other begins. Pride fails and pride falls every time. Pride refuses to secure you. These are all the things I worked for, all the things I tried to control, all the things that motivated me. Not one of these things protected me, rescued or gave me peace when I received my diagnosis of breast cancer. It is not a bad thing to have any of these things. However, I was motivated to find security in these things and that was like a cancer of a different kind. I mentioned that I trusted God while I was busy working towards "success" in these areas. Blind, blind, blind... but now I see.<br />
Why not trust God for my security? He has financially provided for us. He has been a rock solid infallible family member and glorifying His status has given me indescribable security. The kind that changes your countenance.<br />
<br />
I'm re-prioritizing! Re-organizing! Re-evaluating! Spring Cleaning! Part of me had to die in this winter, as Hemingway suggests. My fast growing cells had to die and my wrong motives also had to die. Thank goodness I will never be the same again. I'm busy about the task of spring cleaning closets, drawers, thoughts, behaviors, relationships and patterns. I won't get it all done over night, but at least I'm working in the right direction. I have a new motivation and new purpose. Everything just looks different in the spring of 2012. Can you imagine? Every action, every word spoken, every detail was based out of a self serving motivation. Gosh, I'm so glad that there is a spring around the corner of every winter.<br />
<br />
One last treatment next Tuesday, May 1st and that's the last of the wind and the cold, wintery light of this season. I hope I haven't wasted a morsel of all that cancer has to teach me so far. I'm not looking forward to the next round since my body is already compromised. I'm sure that there will be more wisdom coming and I think it has to do with....... ( to be continued) </div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<i>A Moveable Feast </i> is a set of memoirs written by Earnest Hemingway about his life and internship as a writer in Paris. His book was published the year I was born in 1964, three years after his passing. Just an interesting footnote, thought I'd share it with you. </div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>
<div class="quoteText" sizcache="1" sizset="29">
<br /></div>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-23961258315299172672012-03-21T16:57:00.001-07:002012-03-21T16:59:49.337-07:00Round 2 and half way done!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WMdgfJ5rVg8/T2ppBrEhJqI/AAAAAAAAACs/yldMxeDT_Ao/s1600/DSCN3872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WMdgfJ5rVg8/T2ppBrEhJqI/AAAAAAAAACs/yldMxeDT_Ao/s320/DSCN3872.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some people ask if chemo therapy hurts. No. It’s as silent and sneaky as the disease of cancer itself. Of course if you are like me and you don’t like needles, don’t like looking at them or feeling them, then I’d say- yep being a human pin cushion hurts. Otherwise, the only thing you can feel is the cold liquid pumping into your veins. Then a few days later it sneaks up on you with a queasy stomach, head ache, metallic taste in your mouth and a wide variety of other side effects that peek about 10 days after the drip. Weeks later you may lose your hair, coloring, nails and sense of humor. This is what happens when poison is used to eliminate fast growing rebellious cells. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So where can a cancer fighting patient find joy? It’s in all the beautiful people you meet along the way of the journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yesterday I had my second round of treatment and went to a beauty class all in one day. The class was called “Look Good Feel Better.” A nonprofit organization that generously gives beauty supplies to women going through chemo treatment. I found them when I was doing my research months ago through the American Cancer Society. I went to get support and encouragement, but quickly found that giving support and encouragement felt way more natural. Everyone was in the same treatment stage. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had either just had their second round or going to have it in a few days. We compared war stories like old army buddies. We giggled at our bald heads, no eyebrows while swapping new wigs, scarves and hats. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Look Good Feel Better” gave us a healthy supply of new make-up which we applied in each other’s company while exploring new colors and techniques. For a couple of hours yesterday, I found a spot of humanity in this whole process. I forgot that I was being treated for cancer and just felt the kindred friendship of my new buddies. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It occurred to me that this was just the same feeling as the first day on a new job, sitting next to a stranger, the first day of school and maybe even the first time behind a wheel. It is just a new experience. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then reality hit at the very end of class when my new friend Carol age 70, a real pistol, told me that her daughter 45 year old <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dawn was in Chicago dyeing of liver cancer as she was battling breast cancer. I could have sat there for hours to talk with her as the facilitators were turning out the lights and picking up the trash. I’ll pray for you Carol and Dawn too as I waved good-bye! My God, why? Why must this woman be tormented to be away from her dying daughter while she takes her own cancer treatment? All of a sudden my circumstance became so minimal. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have been forced to stand at the door of mortality and knock to see if the door was open. It takes a little more courage to do that then knocking on doors to sell Girl Scout cookies, but not much more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without Jesus, I would not be strong enough to do this. The most courageous person I know is my sister. Once we were standing on her front lawn at 2 am in the morning and a car came screeching by out of control. It slammed into a block wall perpendicular to her house. I gasped and put my hand over my mouth in disbelief. I was paralyzed by the sight. My sister’s reaction set her feet into motion and she ran across the street to see if the crumbled up car had a survivor. There was a girl inside still alive and a call was made to 911. All of this happened before my hand came away from my mouth. I was paralyzed with fear and no courage. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t watch scary movies because I know that my lack of courage will keep me up at night. Cancer is one crazy scary movie! So, when people say that I am courageous and brave. I just laugh because I know that’s not me! That has to be God in me. His word says to focus on noble things, so I do. His Word says that I (the weak) am strong, therefore I am. His Word says that He will strengthen me and I have witnessed this first hand. Thank goodness that the weakness in my character, basically a coward, is where God is illuminated in me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Several times Christian women have spoken out and told me that they felt the need to encourage me with Psalm 91. There was one young lady who is a friend of my son who had a beautiful quilt made with scriptures all over it for me and sent it home with a book about Psalm 91. What a blessing it has been to read line by line details about this promise of protection in Psalm 91. The verse that jumps right on my heart is </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Psalm 91:7</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A thousand shall fall at you’re your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; </span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">but it shall not come near you.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I believe that I am healed. Not by my own understanding, but that of my God. I can’t ignore the repetition of scripture that people share with me that bequests my belief! God doesn’t Promise me everything I ask for. But this time I just KNOW that I know that he has promised me this. I will hold on to this promise and speak it out loud as often as I can. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Getting back to standing at the door of mortality and waiting with sweaty palms for an answer to my knock. I’ve asked myself a few questions. When I see the face of Jesus do I want to tell him about all the things I’ve done and accomplished or do I want to know that I did all He wanted me to do? Do I want to have a million dollars in the bank or do I want to touch a million lives? Do I want accolades and approval from man or do I want to walk in the confidence that Jesus perfected of my life? What do I really want out of this life for the rest of the days I have? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have waited at the door of mortality and decided that it is not going to open for me today. I pivot on my rear heals and about face setting out to search for His sheep to feed, looking for a million hearts to hold with the confidence that God has a perfect plan for my life. Time to be obedient and do the things I know He wants me to do. I will abandon my plans and chose His for the rest of my life. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And this is the gift that cancer gave to me! </span></div>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-8525795213490083632012-03-15T07:07:00.002-07:002012-03-20T09:24:02.042-07:00Bald is Beautiful<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kSdcJPwSOZ4/T2JthE_AbMI/AAAAAAAAACc/MhbWX70HNr4/s1600/IMG-20120314-00077%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kSdcJPwSOZ4/T2JthE_AbMI/AAAAAAAAACc/MhbWX70HNr4/s320/IMG-20120314-00077%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having your head shaved sort of compares to skydiving, I would imagine. I woke up on Monday morning with an excessive amount of hair left behind on my hairbrush. I noticed that my head was tingling all day that day. I imagined it was the follicles in my head letting go of the hair. It was so itchy, but I was too afraid to scratch my head in fear that the hair would fall right out! By Tuesday night it was coming out when I ran my hands through it! I hadn’t washed it since Sunday because of the horror stories I heard from other survivors that it came out in the shower! Wednesday morning I woke up and put my hands on my head to see it was still there instead of on the pillow and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it was, whew. I made it! I made it to the appointed day to shave my head. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">About a month ago I popped in a little boutique called “The Wig Cottage.” They specialize in helping survivors make the adjustment from hair loss to wigs and scarves. With my whole head of hair intact, the staff helped me pick out a wig that had the same texture, style and color as my very own hair. I tried on some fun wigs and each time I turned to my husband for his opinion. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I tried on the Lady Godiva wig. Long blonde wig, went down to my waist with surfer bangs. I looked about 18 and could see the real adventure of this wig thing… only to turn and look at him with a disappointed head nod… nope that one wasn’t the one! </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finally, I settle on the strawberry blonde “Malibu.” It was a perfect match even down to the roots! It looked like my hair on a really good hair day. I also picked out a baseball cap with extensions sown in and a nightcap. No, not shot of whiskey, a little flannel hat to keep my head warm at night time because after all you lose 80% of your body heat through your head. There was special shampoo for my head and the wig too. Also, some soothing glaze for my itchy head. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of these things where right there waiting for me at “The Wig Cottage.” I made the appointment exactly two weeks out <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>from my 1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> treatment as recommended by the staff there. I barely made it! I had a client in the morning and one in the afternoon. So, I thought getting my head shaved between clients on a lunch break was perfect. Although, I was a bit concerned that if it were an emotional experience; would I be able to carry on the day? That was the mauling thought as we pulled up in the parking lot. The morning distraction was sweet and I didn’t have a minute to think about it until I saw the “Wig Cottage” sign. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nervous and anxious, no return, big deep breath… okay, I’m ready. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn’t tell my stylist that I was a wreck inside. I’m sure she already knew. She simply turned my chair so I was looking into my husband’s eyes instead of the mirror. He stared back at me, never looking away. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard the buzz of the shears and experienced the greatest relief of itchy head that is known to man. Oh my goodness, it felt so good. I know now why a dog’s leg moves when you scratch its belly. Ahhhhhh……………I didn’t even care that she was taking it off. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more worries that it’s going to fall out at the wrong time or suddenly. No more stray hair flying in my eyes, mouth and nose. I can wash and scratch my head! I think when people describe skydiving to me that’s what they are talking about. Scared to do it, but so glad they did!</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once she shaved my head she put my wig on immediately so still didn’t have to look at my bald head until I got home. I was so thankful!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With wig on, she turn me around and started to give me a hair cut by cutting the wig to perfection so it was custom to my face and taste. What a great experience. Once I finished my day and got home I was able to take the wig off and look at my head in the privacy of my own home. It wasn’t so bad. I found a few childhood scars that prompted some memories and stories that I repeated to my husband. Tried on my hat, used a hand held mirror to see from every angle, and sent a few pictures of my bald head to those who asked, practiced putting on my wig and ended up just wearing a scarf for the rest of the evening. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MAakvUSUOrE/T2JuS3dQ2xI/AAAAAAAAACk/WdWmORjWqGg/s1600/Wig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MAakvUSUOrE/T2JuS3dQ2xI/AAAAAAAAACk/WdWmORjWqGg/s320/Wig.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s the best part of the day. There was a package waiting for me when I got home. It was from a woman named Joy, who is a survivor. Inside the package was a scarf that Joy was passing on to me. The scarf was given to her by another survivor. She was also Stage II. The scarf is stunning and was purchased in Paris. She sent a beautiful card with it that had the most charming words of encouragement that congratulated me for making it through diagnosis and surgery so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a message of Hope that arrived at precisely the right moment. Coincidence? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, that’s how much my God loves me and that’s how much He wants me to know that He is with me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-13221110953714208712012-03-01T09:47:00.000-08:002012-03-01T09:47:26.096-08:00Hello Therapy Room<div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mz4UK5PqV7s/T0-QacyEypI/AAAAAAAAACE/Hduy2YHkXWA/s320/IV.jpg" width="320" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Hello Therapy room, filled with 3 aisles of yellow reclining chairs. Each aisle had six chairs facing one another, three on each sidewith IV poles on the side of each chair. The gigantic window that stretch from one end of the room to the other and from top to bottom created an outdoor/ indoor environment. Almost like a sun room.</div><br />
The lady who sat directly across from my reclining chair in our sunshiny room, is considerably older than I and barely a hundred pounds. She looked like a pro at this with her shoes kicked off and a nice bulky book to read. She was so darn cute I could have put her in my pocket. I instantly loved her. She looked up out of her pages a few times and I caught her glance while I was being hooked up. She could tell I was a newbie. I think I saw a twinkle in her eye as she simply sent an encouraging smile across the aisle. Taking her lead, I reclined my chair, kicked off my shoes, snuggled in my pink furry blanket my favorite aunt gave me with my name and a pink ribbon done in bling-bling. I sorted through the Susan G Koman bag of goodies and entertainment that I packed for Gilligan Island's 3 hour tour ( treatment lasted for 3 hours) and picked out my “Crazy Love” book that was given to me by a wonderful Christian sister. It wasn’t long before my aisle buddy took off her little beanie to show my husband and I how her hair was holding up and shared her story about having the hair dresser cut it very short but not totally off as it began to fall out. That little twinkle in her eye disappeared and I saw a vulnerable woman with her insecurity covered by a little beanie. A quick glance back to our books gave us a little break from the eye contact that was about to produce a tear or two. Unspoken rule #1 DO NOT CRY IN THE THERAPY ROOM! When in doubt think about others. <br />
<br />
And so I did. I began to just pray for my new friend with the same chant I learned from my 15 year self as a cheerleader. I was going to be her personal cheerleader for the rest of our treatment. Another Aisle buddy joined us. He has melanoma and it was his first time too. So, I prayed for his healing. There were more people who came to the therapy room. One other young man with testicular cancer had his laptop open with pictures of his two little sweetheart children. I met him earlier.. so I prayed for him. Another lady I saw as I went to the bathroom had such a look of disappear on her face that was so intense that I felt it when I walked by, so I prayed for her too. The room filled with more and more patients and I prayed for as many as I could see. <br />
<br />
When I got tired of reading I listened to an ipod that my daughter gave me last year for my birthday. First song was Matthew West. “ Strong Enough” Before you listen to the beautiful song join me in this experience of looking up at the Therapy dripping from the IV. Gratitude overwhelmed my heart and I felt it’s expansion was greater than the cold fluid entering my body. I could only think of it as a gift straight from heaven. God knew that I had cancer and no insurance. He knew that I had just lost every penny to my name from 2006-2012 in the real estate crash. A grand total of one million dollars. Busted broke and at rock bottom. He was there when all three of my daughters moved out of state within 6 short months. My Lord has buffered it all with His tender mercies and as a loved one reminds us; with His grace upon grace. <br />
<br />
Listen with me again!<br />
<u><span style="color: blue;"></span></u><br />
<u><span style="color: blue;"></span></u><span style="color: blue;"></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgeimdWjZmM&feature=fvsr"><u><span style="color: blue;"><span lang="EN">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgeimdWjZmM&feature=fvsr</span></span></u><span style="color: blue;"></span></a><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN"> </span><br />
The bracelet on my hand in this picture was given to me by one of my best friends. She took it right off of her wrist and put it on my wrist. I thought it extraordinary as she has worn this bracelet everyday for as many years as I can remember. I know the sacrifice was hard for her. It doesn’t compare to the blessing of wearing it over the vein that carried the curing therapy to my body. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-91631978947971478942012-03-01T07:35:00.003-08:002012-03-01T10:00:10.442-08:00There is authority and power in Jesus<span lang="EN">“If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad…”<br />
<br />
Lord Byron<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<span lang="EN"></span><br />
<span lang="EN"></span><br />
<span lang="EN"></span><br />
<span lang="EN"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sXkTAn3ER60/T0-Ser8m2qI/AAAAAAAAACM/qQmoE_2MZSk/s1600/photo0769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sXkTAn3ER60/T0-Ser8m2qI/AAAAAAAAACM/qQmoE_2MZSk/s200/photo0769.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><div align="CENTER"></div><br />
Gosh, I have been dreading this for days and weeks! Everyone made it so endurable that I walk away feeling like I experienced a shower of love. The kind of shower that grows your heart to a greater capacity to receive. We’ve all met people who had a Big Heart. I want to have one of those.. A Big Heart! Thank you God for growing my heart. <br />
<br />
Prepare yourself to see the word therapy written down and know that I mean chemo. I just can’t call it chemo. It is tied to so many bad implications. Realistically today’s therapy really doesn’t compare to the way it was used like a loose cannon in the days of past. Doctors are so specific in the way they prescribe it. That’s why I had to wait for more tests to be done before we got started. No doctor is going to prescribe a medication for you that has more consequences than the disease they are fighting. Not to mention all the in-between blood tests to monitor ever organ and blood count. So from here on out I am going to call it Therapy!<br />
<br />
We left for Therapy about 10am on Wednesday morning which was only about 45 minutes after I spoke with the nurse who said they had an opening! This is NOT a typical way to start your first day of therapy! For me though, it was a better way. Last week I had read a three ring binder filled with possible side affects and it had me so freaked out that I just wasn’t ready and ultimately glad that therapy was postponed last week. <br />
<br />
I had a dream a few days before we started that I was in agreement with the rest of my body parts that we were ready to get therapy. As if they could talk to me?<br />
<br />
That dream came on the heals of a MUGA-Scan test that I took on Monday. The MUGA -Scan measured all the functions of my heart valves so we could have a baseline knowledge of its health. If I end up needing more aggressive treatment recommended by the Mayo Clinic they will want this test. The most significant part of having this test was the positive self talk I found during it. As I lay there strapped to the table and arms pinned down to a tiny one foot wide table and a massive diagnostic machine over me within inches of my very scarred and flat chest, the fight internalized. All of a sudden I heard the 15 year old Clark High School cheerleader in me begin to chant. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="CENTER">V I C T O R Y. Victory, Victory, that’s our cry! </div><br />
<div align="CENTER">Go Fight Win! Defense Jesus Defense! </div><br />
<div align="CENTER">Push ‘m Back! </div><br />
<div align="CENTER">R.e.- R.e.b.- R.e.b.o.u.n.d. Rebound! </div><br />
<div align="CENTER"><em>Then I could hear the almost audible sound in my ears of men marching. Thousands of marching boots. I could visualize Gladiators holding spears in the shape of a cross and marching, looking for the enemy.</em> </div><br />
It was then that I remembered that there is a protein structure outside our cells called Laminin. It forms the shape of a cross. With all this strength of mind, I knew there was authority and power in what Jesus has asked of me. To Believe! <br />
<br />
Google~<br />
<br />
Laminin is a protein that is part of the extracellular matrix in humans and animals. The extracellular matrix (ECM) lies outside of cells and provides support and attachment for cells inside organs (along with many other functions). Laminin has “arms” that associate with other laminin molecules to form sheets and bind to cells. Laminin and other ECM proteins essentially “glue” <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvmy7NA83iQ/T0-SvXwa03I/AAAAAAAAACU/T6AKf4FSk_k/s1600/laminin.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pvmy7NA83iQ/T0-SvXwa03I/AAAAAAAAACU/T6AKf4FSk_k/s200/laminin.gif" width="123" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="CENTER"></div><br />
</span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-29696735692293482932012-02-26T06:20:00.006-08:002013-04-28T21:09:44.806-07:002nd Opinion<span lang="EN"> <br />
I must have read in every cancer book that part of this journey is to make sure you seek a second opinion. Doctors are brilliant, talented and above average decision makers. They are also human! I love my doctors and trust them very much and believe that they have my best interest at heart. With that said, I am seeking a second opinion from the Mayo Clinic on Friday March 2<sup>nd</sup>. Oh how I wish this was a simple clear cut black and white battle, but it's not.<br />
"It's rather several shades of gray, " one doctor quoted. <br />
<br />
There have been many issues about the facts of this diagnosis that are borderline and bothersome! Where one doctor says treating a slight HER2 positive issue is not worth all the consequences of possible side effects another doctor says that even a slight positive score must be treated! All of that is complicated by two different tests; one reports a negative presence and the other a positive presence. So, off to Mayo Clinic we go looking for the tie breaking vote. <br />
<br />
The Mayo Clinic sent us a checklist of all the tests they want to review. I am completely impressed that they want to see the diagnostic tests for themselves, they also want the original tissue slides and written reports. It seems to me that they are going to take a fresh analysis approach to the case and file. I am so relieved! I consulted another breast cancer group who only wanted the written reports. I believe we’ll be in great hands when we arrive in Scottsdale AZ. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile the Chemo treatment I was supposed to get last week, will be done this coming week. Then when Mayo determines we are on the right track, fantastic! If not we’ll change it up, but we must get started. <br />
<br />
The local doctors office where I go continues to impress me with their financial aide. Before the insurance kicked in they guided me to call ahead and negotiate cash prices with the service providers. What would have been over $55,000 paid out in cash was reduced to about $15,000. With the generosity of friends and family, a large chunk of that has been paid. Just the other day they sent me paperwork to fill out for the Patient Advocate Foundation Co-Pay Relief Program, who will help us with the co-pay payments. They really have been remarkable with helping facilitate the assistance needed to get the proper care. <br />
<br />
Mornings like this when I wake up and feel nervous and scared, all I have to do is think about everything I can be thankful for and it settles me. I am so thankful that I'm not alone, that I have been well taken care of, that I still open cards and letters every single day, phone calls from friends, that my husband holds my hand even while I'm sleeping, that two of my daughters and my mother have journeyed many miles to spend some beautiful sunny days with me and another daughter and another sister are on their way. I am thankful for cancer research, for the Mayo Clinic, for the pink ribbon tattoo my niece put on her chest, for my new dammit doll, for a song my sisters dedicated to promise to love me through this, for the joy all my grand children have given me, Good morning. <br />
<br />
<span lang="EN">Philippians 4:8<br />
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy--meditate on these things. </span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/%20comm/9"><span lang="EN"><br />
</span></a></span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-53876552292787309362012-02-21T05:49:00.000-08:002012-02-21T05:49:35.958-08:00Chemo starts today. Come, pray with me for a total and complete healing.<span lang="EN">Hello gang, so sorry I haven’t written in a long while. I’ve been trying to digest all that has happened. It’s been like drinking a cup of water from a fire hydrant. I grew up here in the desert and was told somewhere along the way that the reason we have flash floods is because the land is so dry and hard that when the rain finally falls it can not be absorbed because the land is not porous. When the rain falls it quickly runs over the hard surface of the desert landscape causing a flash flood. The Diagnosis back in December hit a hard surface. The constant pounding and sometimes dripping of reality have softened the hard ground and it’s beginning to sink in one slow day at a time. <br />
<br />
I stare at my healing chest and recognize that this is a process. Step 1, surgery behind me. I remember that when I considered my options for surgery I couldn’t cope with more than that. I remember thinking that I couldn’t consider Chemo treatment or even research it because I was already overwhelmed with the decision of mastectomies. <br />
<br />
It’s been several weeks of healing and preparation for Step 2, treatment. Along the way there have been a few bumps in the road. I’ve had to have the tumor slides retested because there was a conflict in results. That delayed the treatment by a week. More than the aggravation of delay was an incredible uncertainty and acceptance of a different treatment plan…. A longer treatment plan. We walked all the way around that block to have the test results remain the same and the decision to continue down the original path of treatment after all. Now, I have had time to read about the treatment plan and side affects which have hit hard ground once again. There is so little time for acceptance before treatment starts. <br />
<br />
Later today there will be an IV drip hooked up to me and the chemicals that scout out and kill cancer cells will be on the hunt. Unfathomable that just two months ago I thought that treatment wasn’t an option because I didn’t have insurance. I need to remember that this is a gift and God came through. I believe… I believe that God and cooperation with the doctors plus my faith will find and kill every cancer cell in my body. Come, pray with me for a total and complete healing and that the side affects of this treatment will be few. With all my love, Sheri</span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-58545634902960740512012-01-29T09:00:00.000-08:002012-01-29T09:00:35.146-08:00I like Sunrises more than Sunsets<span lang="EN">I like sunrises more that sunsets.<br />
<br />
Jan 28<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>, 2012- 11:50pm, 12:10am, 12:28am, 1:30am, 1:45am, 2:10am, Bible Study- read Isaiah 41:10 and pray it back “Please strengthen me and Help me“ , Tylenol PM, 2:30am, 2:50am, 3:10am, 3:28am, 4:15am, 4:35am, 5:20am, 5:30am, 5:28am, 5:34am, 6:10am, 6:20.… bathroom, 6:30am Bible study again. Thank you God for another day of sunlight!<br />
<br />
As I heal I’m beginning to realize that the numbness across my chest may be permanent. I can’t sleep a wink as my mind considers all things. Mostly, bad things. I’m taking clippings and excerpts from one line sentences throughout the week to battle my bad thoughts. Officially I‘ll call it living hell. I tried to convince myself over the long night that everything would be okay with verbal evidence I picked up during the week. I’ve heard, “This is beatable”, “ you may still get feeling back” “reconstruction can come later” , “You’re beautiful”, “You’re courageous.” God’s Word says, “He will strengthen me”, “He will Uphold me”, He loves me”, “He will help me.” I wrestled all night long with my bad thoughts which I don’t even have the nerve to put in writing right now because they were so morbid.<br />
<br />
Perpetual optimism used to be my husband’s most annoying attribute in my eyes. I laid there awake doing mental gymnastics hoping that he would wake up and share his Good Ship Lollypop opinions with me. I was hoping he’d find me stirring and remind me that the birds were chirping in another part of the world or remind me of all the cases where someone else was worse off than us. Better yet, that he would point me back to Jesus. Instead, I tried to lay still so I didn’t wake him up, with my eyes facing the clock and waiting to fall asleep. <br />
<br />
This is “The Fight” or at least part of it. It was a rough week meeting the oncologist deciding on the treatment plan and returning to the surgeon to get all the drains and tubes removed. I am trying to hurry and heal from the surgery so I can start treatments. Honestly, I don’t want to start treatments. I don’t want to loose my hair and I don’t want to be numb across my chest anymore . The fight is getting through all of this mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually. <br />
<br />
It’s time to deal with stuff! You know the stuff I’m talking about. The stuff crammed in that outdoor shed that you’ve been meaning clean out for years. It’s dealing with the control freak within and the abuse taken as a kid. It’s handling insecurities and stubbornness. It’s an opportunity to let God in those self protected heart places. Breath, just breath Sheri. It’s time for the next step.</span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-80193255055420048132012-01-27T04:25:00.000-08:002012-01-27T04:42:24.459-08:00With GREAT Faith!!!<span lang="EN">Monday was my first oncology appointment and the weather held perfect expression for me. Rain wasn't pouring from the clouds that hung low, it was only a slight drizzle that lasted all day long. There was a chill indoors that was somewhat uncomfortable. I wrapped myself in a big sweater, stood at a window that faced the backyard and then the weather and I cried small raindrops all day long. I realized that as the rain was coming down it would bring rich nutrient to the soil and that’s beneficial... so, it was a good day to cry. <br />
<br />
The bright spot of the day was taking a step into the new world of oncology. Who knew that I would love a doctor so much who was going to prescribe poison for my body? Who knew, she would be kind and compassionate, gentle and patient? I've driven by this place a million times and never noticed the packed parking lot! There was a little city going on inside of this medical office park. I've never seen so many people in one doctors office before. The chemo chairs were full, the waiting room was full and every patient was being soothed. I'm the new girl in town and I think I'll fit right in. I'm not alone. I had only ever known a few people with cancer and now there is a whole damn building filled with people like me, strolling down the recovery path!<br />
<br />
You know you've got something threatening when you have a team of doctors! This doctor was selling me an insurance plan called chemicals, that would increase my odds of cancer being killed off systematically. First, twelve to eighteen weeks of chemo followed by six weeks of radiation and then five years of hormone therapy. My hair will fall out, I'll get sunburned and complete my menopause cycle. "It's optional," she said! <br />
<br />
"Not for me, hook me up, let's get this thing started." I didn't hesitate one single moment. <br />
<br />
With each layer of treatment my odds of survival increase. Treatment can't start until I am finished healing from the mastectomies. She must have meant physically healing because I’m pretty sure it will be quite sometime before I’m mentally healed from this amputation. <br />
<br />
I just want a day between now and that first drip of chemicals where I don't have to think about my life, my fight or my prognosis. I wanna go to the San Diego Zoo. I wanna laugh at the monkeys and be awed by the tigers. I wanna eat pop corn and watch the towering giraffes. I wanna be surrounded by life and at a simplistic level. <br />
<br />
It’s with great faith that I press on. It’s a new kind of faith, one that I’ve not known before. It’s bigger than the comfortable knowledge that God is with you or to coin the phrase, “things happen for a reason.” It’s so big that there is a force behind it. Momentum? No, more like exponential power, I’d say. In the book of Mark Chapter 9 there is a story of a man who brings his child to Jesus to be healed of demons. The father asks Jesus if He would have compassion on them and heal his son. Here’s their interaction. Mark 9:23-24<br />
<br />
Jesus said to him, <span style="color: #cc0000;">"If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes."</span> Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"<br />
<br />
Here’s Sheri Page’s response, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"<br />
<br />
Here’s what happened next… Mark 9:25<br />
<br />
When Jesus saw that the people came running together, He rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it: "Deaf and dumb spirit, I command you, come out of him and enter him no more!"<br />
<br />
Here’ what happened next in my faith, <br />
<br />
When Jesus saw that the people came running together ( who prayed for Sheri) , He rebuked the unclean spirit,( the cancer) saying to it: "Deaf and dumb spirit, ( cancer) I command you, come out of him( her) and enter him ( her) no more!"<br />
<br />
With GREAT FAITH, In the name of Jesus!!!</span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-16296641310528606412012-01-21T09:22:00.000-08:002012-01-21T09:24:15.985-08:00More Resources!<span lang="EN">Yesterday I set out to look for wigs and prosthetics. So, I opened my handy dandy notebook and began to call some resources that were published in some of the reading material found in my “little pink book bag”. Monday morning I’ll meet with my Oncologist for the first time and begin treatment options. Please pray!<br />
<b></b><br />
<b>First up was American Cancer Society 1-800-227-2345 </b></span><a href="http://www.cancer.org/"><u><span style="color: blue;"><span lang="EN">www.cancer.org</span></span></u><span style="color: blue;"></span></a><span lang="EN"> There was a cancer specialist on the other end of the line who went over my diagnosis with me. Told me about the typical treatment I could expect and in general gave me more information and perspective about the type of cancer I have. In addition to that helpful information they gave me some other practical resources. </span><br />
<br />
<dir> <b>Support group called Reach to Recover</b>. This is one on one support. I will be matched with cancer survivor who has the same diagnosis as I do. Yeah! I can learn from someone else’s battle how to beat it. <br />
<b>Look Good Feel Better </b>is a 2 hour workshop when beauty experts from the community come together to show patients under going treatment how to maximize and enhance beauty techniques. <br />
American Cancer Society Resource Center for Wigs, prosthetics, Hat and Turbans!<br />
<b>Health Insurance Information Team</b>- There are three types of insurance available for pre-existing. <br />
1. PICP. <br />
2. Local, State and Federal assistance ( Social Services, Medicaid and Social Security) . <br />
3. Women’s Health Connection. You must be diagnosed through affiliation of the Women’s Health connection and Insurance will be available through the Breast and Cervical Cancer Prevention and Treatment Act. <br />
<b> </b></dir><b> </b><br />
<b>Susan G Koman 702-822-2324</b>The following resources were shared<br />
<br />
<dir> <b>Y-Me 1-800-221-2141 </b><a href="http://www.y-me.org/"><u><span style="color: blue;"><span lang="EN">www.Y-Me.org</span></span></u><span style="color: blue;"></span></a><span lang="EN"> This organization is run by cancer survivors. They will provide gently used Wigs and prosthetics for FREE! The intake telephone operators are kind and compassionate</span><br />
<b>Barbara Greenspun 702-616-4910</b>- Women’s care Center- Support groups and classes<br />
<b>Carol’s Post Mastectomy 702-568-9595 </b>- Wigs and Prosthetics<br />
<b>The Caring Place- 702-871-7333 </b>Free massages!- Support Groups and Classes<br />
<b>Center for Compassionate Care- 702-796-3167</b></dir><b> </b>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-56795823674923957732012-01-21T08:58:00.000-08:002012-01-21T08:58:26.794-08:00Moving forward and Believing God<span lang="EN">I read somewhere this week to stop saying, "I have cancer" and start saying that "God has Answers." What a great perspective to have while moving forward. It's time to turn the page and begin the next phase of this process and begin to think about treatments with my bilateral mastectomy behind me and new pathology reports in.<br />
<br />
There are a few things I am going to hold on to moving forward and the most important is that God has positioned us for a miracle. Here's the obvious; I found a non cancerous lump and went for an over due mammogram. Right behind that lump is where the cancer was hanging out. Stage II, late but still early. God warned me in His Word before the mammogram that I must take quick action when I hear the trumpet, so I did! I am at the most aggressive cancer treatment center in Las Vegas. My surgeon had never taken an uninsured patient before and found grace to take me, I was fortunate to get in. Miraculously, I will be insured at the onset of treatment. God has provided in every area of our lives. So far, all medical bills will get paid. One of our daughters can stay in college because of the generosity of friends an family. I have seen healing within my family and friendships. Everything is going to be okay. <br />
<br />
I'm in a bible study called "Believing God" by Beth Moore. She has pointed out in her study that Jacob was not given the keys to the city so to speak when he came into the Promise Land. He had to conquer it! He had to win it back! Jacob had to believe God, not be afraid and carry out all that God requested. Gosh, that just has not left my mind nor my spirit. <br />
<br />
A dear friend of mine makes beaded bracelets which she so sweetly gave me on the day of that mammogram. The bracelet is hand beaded with each bead representing the story of creation and Jesus' resurrection. I memorized the symbolic meaning of each bead so I could tell other people and walk them through the story as they inquired. Well, I memorized all the beads accept one. I couldn't remember the bead that represented the Miracles that Jesus performed. Boy, how I studied that bead, looking at it from all angles trying hard to remember what it meant. Then when my friend told me what it was, I knew that I was going to become familiar with Jesus' miracles. <br />
<br />
So, as I move forward to take back the Promise Land that God promised Abraham and a thousand generations ( that includes me and you) I will commit myself to Believing God for a miracle. </span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-32925447026936082172012-01-19T07:24:00.000-08:002012-01-19T07:24:20.855-08:00Pre Existing Insurance! Yes, I got it!Just in the nick of time! My application for pre existing insurance was approved and starting Feb 1 I will have insurance! Thank you God. This means that at the exact time I have to start treatment, I will be insured. <br />
Here's the information. Please pass it on! <br />
<a href="http://www.pciplan.com/">www.pciplan.com</a> Call this number 1-800-220-7898<br />
<ol><li>You must be a US citizen. I think legal residents are eligible as well</li>
<li>You must have a pre existing illness</li>
<li>You can't have had insurance in the last 6 months</li>
</ol>The monthly rates are reasonable and the total out of pocket cost is approx 7,000. After that 100% coverage. It takes about 3-4 weeks to be approved. This is part of the Obama Health Care Plan.Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-62907814507517122662012-01-19T07:08:00.000-08:002012-01-19T07:29:57.948-08:00It was micro metastasesDon't you just love it when you get the same scripture verse more than once? I do! I recently received a beautiful card in the mail from a relative who sent her love and some supportive scripture hand written in the card. One of the verses she wrote was: Isaiah 41:10<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. </div><br />
I found it again in my own handwriting taped to the hutch on my desk. What an incredible reminder that God is with me. I can not describe the fear that over comes me when I forget that simple precept. It's like Peter who was called to get out of the boat and walk on water. The moment he was distracted by an oncoming wave he took his eyes off of Jesus and began to sink. That's what happens to me! When I take my eyes off of God I forget the confidence I have in Him who has gone before me and whispers behind me telling me which way to go. <br />
<br />
That fear is exactly what I experienced a few days ago when we received some bad news. Originally, the pathologist in the surgery room found no trace of cancer in my lymph nodes and we delighted ourselves with celebration and joy. But, when the official pathology report came back it was indeed in the sentinel lymph node. It was micro metastases. I didn't know what that meant so I conjured up my own definition, which was not a good scenario. It created fear and trembling and a sleepless night. But after I saw the doctor, I realized that it wasn't as bad as I had dreamed up. It was a tiny 1mm speck and she is confident that it can be annihilated through radiation. I think I have figured out that when I stay within the realms of what God has prepared me for then I am at perfect peace. When I wonder off in my own imagination then I seem to get on a roller coaster with no seat belt. <br />
<br />
The front of the card said, God is before you, God is behind you, God is over you and God is in you. <br />
From here on out I will remember that if I get that frightened again, then God simply isn't in it. Amen.Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-78429438647001994042012-01-18T16:58:00.000-08:002012-01-18T16:59:23.026-08:00First Look<span lang="EN">It's been a couple of days since the surgery and I can't believe how well I am getting around. Not ready to run a marathon, but still I am walking on my own and can change my clothes. All the instructions say that I can’t use my arm on the side of the mastectomy. So, since it's both sides I'm using more ab muscles than I remember having in the past. Oh.. I'm so sore! <br />
<br />
</span><br />
<span lang="EN"></span><br />
<span lang="EN"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NSPc9H_8w6M/Txdpp1tOH4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/y34J-y4-wag/s1600/391056_2417478688978_1611691810_31878433_896185033_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NSPc9H_8w6M/Txdpp1tOH4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/y34J-y4-wag/s320/391056_2417478688978_1611691810_31878433_896185033_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Time for my first sponge bath. Until now I haven’t had the courage to remove a big heavy sweater that I put on as soon as I got home from the hospital in fear that I might see my profile. With my head upside down in the kitchen sink my sisters and I started with a shampoo. We worked our way back to my bathroom where pretty sheets were hanging over the mirrors. My daughters were so sweet to cover all the mirrors in my bathroom so I didn't have to look until I was ready. I slowly un buttoned my sweater and started to peel of the security blanket. Then off came the shirt. Wrapped around my chest was a huge bandage that went horizontally from one arm pit to another and reached down to my last set of ribs. The shape was flat. Completely flat. I couldn’t see underneath the bandages, only the shape. None. With my bottom lip quivering one of my sisters started to soap up the wash cloth. I had to unhook the drainage tubes that were pinned to my pants. While the tubes were still attached to me I handed them to my other sister. So, the three of us that day, in my bathroom, nurtured the body that was left after surgery. With little strength I sat down on a vanity bench and allowed to tears to come and the moaning to be heard. I’ll never forget looking up at one sister and seeing her with draining tubes in her hand that were connected to my body and watching mascara run down her face as she grieved for me while the other sister stood behind me softly and gently brushed out my tangled wet hair, telling me that it’s going to be okay. Then my husband tip toed in with a cup of hot tea, taking over the hair brush. He and I took the time we needed to reassure one another that we made a good decision and that everything was going to be alright. With clean clothes and freshly washed hair I enjoyed a day on the patio in perfect 60 degree temperatures, sun shining on a new horizon. </span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7173967991784178180.post-49165987923251320922012-01-18T15:59:00.000-08:002012-01-18T16:07:10.803-08:00In Good Hands!<span lang="EN"><span lang="EN"> </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN">The day of the surgery was pretty remarkable when you consider that I checked in at 7:30am and checked out at 3pm! That’s right I’m not kidding.. bilateral (double) mastectomy! Vomit bowl under chin and cold wash cloth on my fore head and away we went on our way home. Looking back, it was kind of funny when I think about my poor husband who was trying to get me home quickly; the faster he went the more I got sick! <br />
<br />
I think the most intimate moment I have ever experienced with my husband was in the recovery room. I remember looking up out of my fog and seeing that wonderful face with his charming smile looking back at me. He just kept saying, I love you. I couldn’t say much because my voice hadn’t returned yet, but I was telling him with my eyes that I loved him too. I made it! Here I am! Almost in one piece and I’m so grateful that you are here waiting for me! There was so much to tell him about my experience since I had last seen him hours ago when he left pre-op. My surgeon picked up my hand and held it like he was holding it as they wheeled my bed into the operating room and once we got there she didn’t let go. The nurse was setting everything up and she just continued to hold onto my hand, caressing it until she leaned over and softly spoke…goodnight Sheri. I remember as they wheeled me in the operating room that it was very cold. The radio was playing oldies and Team Boobie was in good cheer. My doctor, nurse and anesthesiologist were a team who worked together frequently on breast cancer patients. They called themselves Team Boobie, I called them my All Girl Rock Band. The chill of the operating room was sobering. Instantly I snapped out of vanity and became very aware of what was really happening. Team Boobie was not taking off my breasts. They were saving my life. Oh God, I have cancer. Please get it ALL! Take it all! Then Joshua 1:9 ran through my mind and over my lips. "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid nor dismayed for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." That’s what I was repeating when the lights went out. <br />
When the lights came back on there was my husband waiting patiently to tell me he loved me. I was only home a few hours when my sisters got in town. One of my sisters is a nurse and going to school to be a P.A. Whew, thank goodness because I tend to be a nervous nilly about everything. But, she was there to keep track of medicine and to help measure and drain the tubes. It was like having my own personal doctor! I was so happy to not be in the hospital! By the end of the day my whole family and close friends had stopped by to say hello. It was a celebration. I am officially a cancer survivor!<br />
</span>Sheri Pagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11655920439377460204noreply@blogger.com0