Fairy Tale . . . Shoot!

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Fairy Tale Shoot was my January 2015 post. My first and only post of the year. The reason being, our daughter Rachel was diagnosed in February with breast cancer. The dreaded C dragon swooped into our realm and darkened our family fairy tale.

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(Before things went dark.)

2014 had been a difficult year for our family, so I was happy to say goodbye to it and welcome 2015 with open arms. Rachel traveled to Nacogdoches with me to be my personal assistant, (a.k.a. hairstylist, make-up artist, photographer, cheerleader), as I attended my very first Pulpwood Queen Girlfriend Weekend. I met Kathy Murphy, the founder and Queen Herself, along with many fabulous authors and book club members. It was a fun, enchanting time. At the end of the weekend. Rachel and I went to a wooded spot and did a magical photo shoot of my Fairy Godmother persona. ( Rachel is a fantastic professional photographer. Score.)

Then February came along and on our granddaughter’s birthday the dreaded news came, and our world turned upside down. It is still upside down as she is still in treatment, but the prognosis looks good, and we are grateful for God’s presence with us in these hard days, weeks, months, and now year.

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(Siblings: Sean and Rachel)

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(Family Racing for the Cure!)

This has been her personal fight, but not without the support of our entire extended family and many, many friends. We have all surrounded her with every ounce of love and strength and courage we could muster, and then, we abide. It’s a helpless feeling to watch your child fight for her life. There are no words to truly describe the depths of these emotions, so I won’t even try. But, I have watched her stand strong, and on those days she could not stand, I watched her husband carry her . . . I watched her brothers lean in . . . I watched her family and friends circle up around her . . . I stood with her dad on her behalf.

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And yet . . . there are days when no one else can stand up for her, and she fights on because she is a warrior. She is strong and brave and beautiful. And I love her with all my heart.

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The battle continues. It requires the drinking of poison for an entire year, but she has beaten the C dragon, and she has the scars to prove it. Fairy Tale . . . shoot! This is real life!

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And because this is real life, I write fairy tales. There are days I cannot gather one creative thought, and I sit. Then, I am carried away by my own emotions and I write. Several characters lost their lives in 2015. It was a dangerous year. However, no matter how dark and desperate things appear, I will bring light to my story, and my heroines will be strong and courageous, ever-flawed, but heroes just the same.

I have come to realize I cannot wish away bad years, bad months, bad weeks, bad days. What I can do is embrace each day as a gift. I have to take it as it comes and do with it what I can. I have to live in the middle of the pain and the mess and feel it completely. And, I am grateful for the days that are full of joy and beauty and light, because I have those as well. Life is an adventure! Grab your sword, your bow, your wand, your pen, whatever weapon you use and join in.

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This hangs on the wall in my writing studio as a reminder.

(Original quote by G. K. Chesterson: “Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children dragons can be killed.”)

 

Guest Post: Cameron Von St. James

The following is a guest post by Cameron Von St. James…

Caring for My Wife During Her Fight with Cancer

On November 21, 2005, my wife Heather was diagnosed with malignant pleural mesothelioma. We will never forget that day, the day that our lives were changed forever. Just three months earlier, our only child, Lily, had been born. We had hoped that we would spend the upcoming Christmas together as a happy new family, but our happiness fell apart when Heather was diagnosed, and I became a caregiver in addition to a husband and father.

Things started changing before we even left the doctor’s office after Heather’s diagnosis. The doctor told us about mesothelioma and said we could choose treatment at a nearby university hospital, a reputable hospital in the region without a dedicated mesothelioma program, or a mesothelioma specialist named Dr. David Sugarbaker in Boston. In what would be the first of many decisions I made during that time, I told the doctor that we were going to Boston.

In the following months, our daily lives changed dramatically. Previously, we had both held full-time jobs, but Heather couldn’t work after the diagnosis, and I switched to part-time so I could focus on making appointments, setting up travel to Boston and caring for our daughter. It wasn’t long before I was drained by the amount of work and number of decisions to be made. More than once, I crumpled onto the floor of the kitchen sobbing, wishing things were different. Fortunately, these moments of weakness were few and far between, and I never let Heather see me break down. I knew I had to be strong for her no matter what.

We were helped through that time by friends, family and even strangers. The financial help and emotional support was invaluable. Cancer patients and their caregivers should always take help from those who offer it during their time of need. Emotionally, this help is a powerful reminder of not being alone in the world.

Caring for someone with cancer is incredibly difficult. In the face of so much stress, you can never quit. Although you have to understand your emotions, you also have to manage them. No matter what, you have to stay hopeful and use your resources to get through this.

After Heather dealt with radiation, chemotherapy and surgery, she miraculously survived mesothelioma. Now, seven years later, she’s still free of cancer.

Learning how to handle stress and manage time effectively during Heather’s fight with cancer prepared me for many more obstacles in life.  Two years later, I returned to school to get my degree. When I graduated with honors, I was my class speaker. During my speech, I told everyone how five years earlier, I never would have thought I’d be there. Above all, we have to remember that we can overcome if we keep our hope and believe that we can accomplish anything.

 

PET Scan Results: The Super Power of Prayer

48 Prague Lennon Peace Wall

Imagine a world with no cancer…

My doctor pulled up my PET scan results on her computer screen and smiled…a Cheshire Cat Smile. My Lymphoma is disappearing before our very eyes. The radiologist asked her what treatment I’d had to bring about the great change. I’ve had no treatment…yet. She said she’d only seen this one other time in her career as an oncologist. That patient also was a strong Christian and had also been the recipient of many prayers on her behalf. Miracle was a word used that day in my doctor’s office. No other explanation.

I’m so grateful for the grace given me. I don’t know what the future holds as I “live with lymphoma” but I do know for now I’m breathing deeper and walking lighter. I have a number of close friends battling cancer…too many. They are ever in my prayers and thoughts. Hoping for more miracles.

 

PET Scans and Super Powers

52 My Carry-On Stash

What do you pack for a PET Scan…

This is my Mary Poppin’s Bag for the two day journey for my 2nd PET Scan. Complete with my Super Power Cape, BRAVE DVD, The Hobbit, laptop, headphone, chocolate, journal, chocolate, playing cards…just a few of my favorite things.

I thought this scan would be easier…less stressful. I was wrong. The staff were amazing, but there’s just something about liquid housed in a steel casing with a needle on the end that I find unsettling. They did have a monitor in the room where I waited in case I needed anything while percolating. After an hour of the radioactive sugary goodness finding its way through my veins in search of cancer cells, my isolation was over and it was time for the scan. I laid down on the sleeve and she asked me to place my arms at my side. (Last time I held them above my head.)

I thought, This will be much more comfortable.

Then she pulled up two huge pieces of fabric and strapped me down. “To make sure my arms don’t slip off the sleeve.” Is this when I tell her how claustrophobic I am. The correct answer to that question is: YES! But, I decided to be brave.

As the tube sucked me inside its belly the first time she called out, “Close your eyes.” I did. And a bright flash went off. Then, it sucked me in further and further and it became darker and darker. I suddenly had the terrifying thought that this might be a closed tube. I hadn’t noticed when I walked into the room. My heart began to race, pounding in my chest, and I told myself to breath…now. There I was strapped to the sleeve, inside a dark, tiny tube, a mole-hole as it were. A cave, a tunnel…are there spiders in here?

WAIT A MINUTE! I regained control of my thoughts just in time and the sleeve exited the tube. But only for a moment, then back in I went, but this time not so far, and I opened my eyes and saw that it wasn’t so tiny after all…and there was light coming through the other end. AN OPENING!! YAY!!

For the remainder of the time, my heart began to regain some semblance of a proper rhythm, and I began to pray for my sweet family. Hey, I decided nuclear powered prayers must be quite strong. Why not take advantage of my new super power.

I don’t know much about physics, I have degrees in Social Work and English, but I like to imagine I am somehow connected to the same matter that powers the stars. I do love star gazing. (I also went in the restroom and turned out the lights to see if I glowed. I didn’t.)

I’m now seated comfortably on the bed at my in-laws waiting for my new super power or powers to reveal themselves. You’ll be the first to know when they appear. What would your super power be if you could choose? I’d fly…with the option of being invisible.

The Art of Waiting OR Can I Get a Bit of Closure SOMEWHERE

64 Me at Highland Loch

(Me, in 2002, in the Highlands near Inverness, Scotland, listening for a word from my ancestors. I had to wait three more years before they spoke up.)

It seems I’ve been spending a lot of time waiting lately. And I just have to say, many of the things I’m waiting for are good, or the possibility of good things anyway. Now I don’t want to complain, I really don’t mind waiting from time to time, but it’s a bit crazy for me right now. What do you mean? Glad you asked.

65 Sonic after 1st PET Scan

(Stopped at Sonic to get my caffeine/sugar fix after a 24 hour fast for my PET Scan in February. PS: I was radioactive in this photo can you tell? Are my superpowers showing? I had my cape on just for the occasion.)

I had labs drawn last week in anticipation of my oncology appointment tomorrow. I’ve been waiting for three months since my last one to see if all is well…to see if I’m holding steady in my battle against cancer. This time around it was fairly easy on the front end. I just had blood drawn. No tests, no scopes, no scans, no…well you get the picture. I’m not so much in a battle right now, I’m waiting. And this is one time I don’t mind the wait! I’m hoping for healing or a new form of treatment that is less destructive to the rest of my body. This is the heavy one when it comes to waiting. It’s better from here on out. I promise.

30 FJ40 on Trailer

(Here he is! Dr. Livingstone at Stuart’s, Land Cruiser mechanic extraordinaire!)

I’m waiting for my sweet ride to get a makeover. Dr. Livingstone, my 1974 FJ40. I love him. He’s rough and rugged and has been known to rescue many a young man’s TRUCK out of the mud. Just sayin’. You all know who you are. He is right now in the greasy but loving hands of Stuart, my new mechanic. This will be worth the wait. In the meantime, I’m without wheels.

31 The Stone Manor Spiral

(This is sitting atop my dad’s desk. Just wanted you to know I don’t keep a large current photo of myself atop my own desk.)

Then there are three very cool events I’m waiting on that have to do with The Stone Manor, my novel. I’ve entered it in two different writing contests for unpublished novels. The first is the Golden Claddagh Contest, of which my novel is a finalist in the Celtic category. Woohoo! The winner will be announced September 5th. Waiting! The second contest is The Catherine Toronto Romance Writers Contest. Finalists to be announced mid-late August. Waiting. And last but by no means least, I have submitted my manuscript to a NYC agent. She’s considering representing my work. No timeline on this one. Waiting!!!!!

66 Moving from Berg Container

(Our container preparing to leave our German apartment for Texas. Bon Voyage! Or I should say Gute Reisen!)

Jim and I are moving from Munich to the Black Forest in Germany. We are also downsizing (if that can be possible) so we’ve shipped most of our personal belongings back to Texas, where we’ve taken an apartment near our daughter and her family. So at this very moment, much of our earthly things are in a container on a ship somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Wait! I didn’t word that quite right. Hopefully they’re not in the ocean literally, the ship is sailing ON the ocean. Does that sound better? I have seen pictures of freighters plodding through stormy seas, containers sliding off into the water. Not a pretty sight. Image be gone! The container should be here in about a month. Wait for it.

32 Me and Jim Smiling Fam

(Isn’t he handsome? Well worth the wait!)

Finally, Jim has been in Germany without me for a month and will arrive back in Texas on our anniversary, in just a few short days. BEST ANNIVERSARY PRESENT EVER! Waiting!

I could go on, but I won’t. We all are waiting for one thing or another on any given day. Some of us wait expectantly, some excitedly, some with great fear and dread. The danger is always this, we’ll miss living in the moment, the here and now, while waiting for the future to get here. Each day is a gift. It comes and it goes and we can never, ever get it back. I don’t know what you’re waiting for, but I hope you don’t miss what’s right in front of you while you’re looking ahead. I’m writing these last words for my own benefit, really. I needed to hear them. What about you?

Dragon Slayer

09 Me and Trevor Bow Practice

I’ve decided to get serious about this blog o’mine. Instead of waiting for a clue as to which direction I should go…I’m going to be true to myself and be random! At first this was going to be a blog about the process of writing/publishing a novel. Then, there was this crazy little interruption this spring in the form of a cancer diagnosis. Suddenly, I decided I should blog about that. However, I’m in a holding pattern of sorts with my cancer, thank God for this. So, in light of my always unpredictable life, I’ve decided my posts should follow the same pattern. Welcome to my world.

Are there things you’re afraid of? I have a VERY long list. Topping the list is SPIDERS. I don’t even like typing the letters that form the word. I can feel them creeping onto the page and just hanging there. (Shiver.) I have high cholesterol and a family history of heart disease. So, I also fear having a heart attack. I’m kinda afraid of passing out in public, the dark, creepy movies, and merky lakes, which leads me to alligator gar! I could go on, but I’ll stop for now. I’ve been known to say things like, “I wish I knew what the future holds.” Word to the wise, don’t say this unless you’re ready for the answer!

I never ever really worried about having cancer. I mean, maybe skin cancer from my sun-worshipping days, but that’s it. Well, I know in part what my future holds. And the funny thing is I’m not really worried about the heart thing anymore. (I do still worry about spiders.)

We all have dragons in our lives. The problem is deciding what needs to be done with them. I have one hiding in a cave (my body) waiting to rise up and devour me. What this dragon doesn’t know is that I’m a dragon slayer when I need to be. I have Follicular Lymphoma, Grade One. Its a waiting game. I’ve been told it’s a very slow going game at that. It could take ten or even fifteen years before it moves to Grade Two. A lot can change in ten years. Who knows what the treatment might be by then. Maybe less destructive than chemo or radiation. I’m willing to wait, and hope, and pray for something better. But, even if the treatment in ten years is the same as today, I will not despair because I’ve been told “this is curable.” When this sleeping dragon awakes, we’ll fight fire with fire. It will be slain! Till then, I’m in training to get ready for the battle. A battle that is inevitable.

The day I received the call from the surgeon that the biopsy was positive for Lymphoma, my father said, “We have lived in fear. Now we can live in hope.” It was true. All the tests, all the waiting, all the not knowing was over. And now, we would hope. He told me this was a quote. When I asked him what it was from he said, “The Diary of Anne Frank.” Anne’s father said this as the Nazi’s were knocking on their door to arrest them. Hmm. I’m hoping for a more hopeful ending.

So, enough about slaying dragons. Tomorrow’s post is about riding them. Which, in my opinion, is a heck of a lot more fun than slaying! them. Tomorrow we’ll talk about a stone manor…not a cave!