stories of strength | Girl Meets Life | a lifestyle blog by Gracie Gordon

stories of strength: janelle.

28 October, 2014 by Gracie 2 Comments

This last Story of Strength is from my good friend Janelle. Her mom, who bravely fought cancer, passed away a few years ago. Janelle is one of the strongest women I know, so I’m so happy to have her share her story with you.

March 15, 2012 is a day I remember vividly in my mind. My grandmother woke me up at 5:30am, saying my mom was cool and clammy. When I went in to check on her I found that she was right, but what she didn’t realize was that she was in her last few hours of life. She had battled breast cancer for so long, but it spread to a point that couldn’t be cured. I laid next to my mom for the next five hours as her breathing became more labored and her skin more pale. I told her I loved her over and over and that it was ok to let go. At exactly 10am that Sunday morning, she took her last breath.

Cancer. It is such an ugly word. It is not only something that consumes one’s body, but also one’s life and the lives of one’s family. When my mom told me for the first time that she has cancer, I thought my world would collapse. After asking what seemed like a million questions, I finally realized things weren’t as bad as I had made them out to be in my head. Surgery, chemotherapy, radiation. That was the answer - that would make her better, the doctors said.

Over the following eight months I saw my mom fight like never before. She wanted to live, not just be around for me, but for her as well. She endured long drives to radiation, incredible nausea, and several minor surgeries due to complications. She endured it all while remaining a mom to me. There were good days and bad days, but she made the most of them all. She reassured me she wasn’t going to go anywhere and I honestly believed her.

When the last of her treatment was over, we held our breath and waited for test results to come back to let us know if she was all clear. The results came back all clear, and I felt like I could now live life without being afraid of losing my mom. After this we seemed to bond in a way that we never had before. My mom became a best friend to me, someone that was not only a parent, but someone that I could share life with.

About five years after the “all clear,” my mom began to experience extreme pain in her lower back and she was diagnosed with a tumor resting on her sciatic nerve. The doctors told us that the cancer was now in stage four, but that it could be contained with chemo. For a time it was able to be contained with chemo, but eventually the symptoms of the chemo were too much for her.

This was the point where I really had to wrestle with the fact that I was going to lose my mom. I couldn’t fathom living with out her. I didn’t want to get married without her, have babies without her, travel without her. I just didn’t want to do life without her. A friend once told me that I would know when it was time to let go and would be able to let her go. I didn’t think this was going to ever be possible. At one point my mom told me that she didn’t want to continue with chemo, and that she wanted to switch back to a medication that I was sure would kill her. I remember having a very heated conversation and trying to describe how I needed her around and needed her to fight for me. I had no idea the pain she was actually enduring, and the quality of life she was living. I very selfishly wanted her around because I needed my mom.

When I was told that I needed to go home because it was the last days, I got on a plane and flew immediately. We found out our time was short (only ended up being 24 hours), and that we needed to make the most of every moment. When I found out that there was no more hope, and that she was indeed going to graduate into heaven, I prayed for God to take her quickly. I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer any more, and I knew that it was time to let her go. I can’t tell you how I knew, but I just knew and had peace about it.

While this has really shaped who I am, it has also made me more realize that I have to love passionately those who are around me because we never know how long we have left on this earth. Yes, I did grieve the loss of my mom, and in some ways I think I still am, but I have also made a choice to celebrate her whenever I can. To celebrate birthdays, anniversaries of her death, her love for travel and her love for family. While tears are still shed and I still miss having her around, I know that she is always with me that that because I am her daughter, I will forever carry a piece of her with me.

To those reading this that have a loved one battling cancer, I can say that I know where you are and what you are feeling. And if I could tell you anything, I would tell you to spend time doing everything and nothing all at the same time…have the hard conversations if they need to be had, forgive, and be forgiven, but most of all to love with all you have, and cherish each and every moment.

stories of strength: my mom.

22 October, 2014 by Gracie 5 Comments

This is obviously a story extremely close to my heart – my mom’s. It’s strange because reading this made me realize how numb I made myself when all of this was going on – there are so many things I almost didn’t allow myself to remember, if that makes sense. Clearly a defense mechanism. As scary as this time was, I never want to forget it – how strong my mom is, and how thankful I am for her to be in full remission! Momma G – take it away

With two sisters who had breast cancer, I figured I was the sibling who skated it, right? I would be the sister who beat the odds. That’s the way I looked at it. Thankfully, my older sister, Marion (who I watched courageously stare breast cancer down) was quite belligerent about reminding me that I should be seeing a breast specialist annually from an early age (thanks, Sis ;). So, I was obedient, got my mammogram, and saw Dr. Gordon Schwartz at Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia every year like clockwork. It was an uncomfortable chore. The mammogram was not something to look forward to (for obvious reasons). The one hour trip in bumper to bumper traffic into the city was also something I had to force myself to do. But, it was there on my maintenance list along with the hairdresser, dental hygiene, etc.

So, in April 2007 ( you always remember the time and place you got “the call”), I had no clue who the unknown caller could possibly be. I had gone for years getting my mammogram, where they said “if there’s a problem, Dr Schwartz will call you,” and never received a call. Anyway, when I answered, It was Dr. Schwartz. It was sort of surreal….being told that you have cancer. I was definitely one of those people who thinks “it can never happen to me.” It just wasn’t registering.

The doctor went on to instruct me on contacting the office for further biopsy. I was out shopping with Gracie at the time. And I remember, I just kept shopping. Weird, huh?! I didn’t have fear at the time, I just felt numb.

What sort of thoughts went through my head: could time be limited now with the family that I love? Every word they said, every cute little mannerism, all of a sudden became so precious to me. All of the silly little things that used to annoy me became very unimportant. Most of all, it struck me that I really DID believe in God, and salvation through His Son, Jesus; that He really IS in control of all things; Heaven IS real, life is everlasting for me. I guess sometimes it takes something shocking to have a full realization of your time on this Earth, and if your beliefs run deep. In any event, all of those things brought me tremendous comfort and peace, not knowing what the outcome might be.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, within weeks I was diagnosed with basal cell carcinoma on my face. This required a surgery that left 18 stitches on my cheek. That month, I also slipped on the ice rushing out to a doctors appointment and fracturing my ankle! Talk about bad timing.

The rest is a blur, and flew by. The biopsy, the surgeries…all done while on crutches I was a mess. Thank you to my dear husband and my Gracie (who lived at home at the time), who took such wonderful care of me. And, my Katie, who no longer lived at home, but always the source of encouragement. I love them soooo much!!!

After the worst was over, I recall getting into my car, going to my appointment with the oncologist to discuss my follow up care. I had my records in hand, including a little package with a my name on it, and a slide container, with the cancerous tumor tissue in it (yes, they keep that. Ha!). I remember being alone, but speaking to it and saying “I’m so glad that now you are in that little vial, and not in me!” Thank You, Lord!

Because of my darling sister, Marion, my seriously amazing AND SUPERIOR Dr. Schwartz, and by God’s grace, early detection allowed me to qualify for a partial mastectomy. And, as of today, I am 7 years cancer free.

In summary….I can’t say this enough…EARLY DETECTION!!!!!!

-NEVER miss your mammogram.
-ALWAYS self examine.
-ENCOURAGE and remind other women to be diligent.
-If you have a family history of breast cancer, make an appointment with a Breast Specialist TODAY!!!!!

Lastly, don’t wait for life to throw you a curve ball to appreciate your loved ones, count every moment as precious, and a TRUE gift from God.

Lots of love and God bless you all!

**********

Thanks for all of your support so far this month for the Speakable Strength Collection, with 15% of each purchase being donated to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation!

stories of strength: amy.

15 October, 2014 by Gracie 2 Comments

This Story Of Strength is from my blog friend Alyssa’s sister, Amy. Alyssa previously shared some of her sister’s story here, but I wanted to catch up learn more about her journey and where she’s at today.

I am a very spiritual person, and I have to tell you that I think God has given me this opportunity to share with you to remind me of how very blessed I am. Let me explain…

I am a 5th grade teacher at an elementary school. I also serve on the PTO. A fellow PTO member and local pediatrician was diagnosed with breast cancer and undergoing treatment. The PTO called her, and asked her what we could to do help - meals, babysitting, etc. Her only request was to spread awareness. She asked that we have the local mammogram van visit the school for teachers and mothers to get their mammogram. So I was given the task of filling the van.

At first, no one would get on. Teachers claimed that it was hard to find the time. I panicked, because I needed to fill 10 spots. So I took the first appointment on the van and challenged the teachers to fill other spots. I told them they needed to do it for the PTO member that sent the van. I was 36 at the time. I had one aunt with breast cancer, but I had 7 aunts, so that wasn’t a big deal. We filled the van. We had teachers and mothers that were volunteering - it was awesome - a great way to honor our friend.

So, a week later, I find out that the test was abnormal, and I needed another “just to get a good baseline.” Then I went in for my biopsy a week after that. It was horrible…all the appointments, all the waiting.

So the day comes when I had to get my biopsy report. My husband and I waited in the waiting room for what seemed like years. When they finally opened to door to let us in, we knew. I turned to Eric and said, “baby…this is happening.” The doctor was amazing. He cried with us, he told us our options. He had already called my OBGYN, and she had recommended a surgeon. We left the office in shock, and then drove straight to our 6 year old twin daughters’ soccer game that my husband had to coach. Life goes on…you can’t dwell…you move on for your kids.

My initial reaction was absolute fear and shock. My husband had a sister who passed away from a brain tumor at 17, so we had been through this before. I didn’t sleep - I spent too much time searching the internet for things I shouldn’t read. Finally, after a late night talk with my father, he convinced me that I should NOT be on the internet. That was good advice. I cried all the time, but held it together around our children where were then 6, 6, and 2. All girls.

After meeting with the surgeon a few days later, all was put into perspective. She told me that I dodged a bullet. She believed that my cancer could be removed by surgery. I would need to have a mastectomy on my left breast. The cancer was completely throughout my ducts in my left breast. It had broken out of the duct in one part, which only put me at Stage 1, but there was no way to save the breast. I chose with no hesitation to have both breasts removed – there was no way I was going to go through this again.

This is the part I want you to remember: She told me that had I waited until I was 40 (AS IS RECOMMENDED BY DOCTORS) to get my first mammogram, it would have been really bad. I may not have made it. My 40th birthday has now just passed - my children are 10, 10, and 6 - and I am on my knees in thankful prayers that our PTO member sent that mammogram van to our school.

Overall, I think we handled the diagnosis and the surgery well. We were just so thankful that it was caught, and there was no feeling of pity or anger. My husband is such an amazing man. If he was upset about the loss of my breasts, he never once showed it. He was a rock. You know, people forget about the husbands when women are going through breast cancer. One night I woke up to find him downstairs crying. He never would show me his fear - he hid it from all of us.

My friends and I rallied after my surgery. We found contacts at EVERY school in our county and had the mammogram visit every school for two years. It was so awesome. We know of one person that was diagnosed from visiting the van! We had such a feeling of accomplishment. We were giving back! Unfortunately, the van broke down, and the hospital did not fix it. I am not sure why. We were crushed that this VERY effective means to get women their mammograms was gone.

I was blessed that I didn’t need chemo or radiation. In 8 weeks I was back on my feet and trying to have a normal life. I am on tamoxifen, which has been a struggle for me for 3 years, but I only have 2 years left. I can deal with moodiness, weight gain, hot flashes, memory loss, and night sweats if it means that I am going to see my amazing husband dance with his beautiful daughters at their weddings. We are blessed. Life is good. We can do this.

My top takeaways: Once again - 40 is WAY too late for your first mammogram. We like to say that “36 is the new 40.” So many women my age put their families and their jobs ahead of their own care - we put off appointments because we are all so busy with our kids. We need to take care of ourselves so we can be here for our kids.

And lastly, life is short, so don’t sweat the small stuff. Trust in God, love your family. The phrase “live, laugh, love” kind of sums it all up.

Thanks Amy for sharing your story! xx