Journey started. Path found. Mountain ahead.

I remember telling someone when I was about 20 years old that I would be ok if I died.  My life had been great. My biggest love was being on the back of a horse or playing tennis.  Both were available to me on almost a daily basis.  Our farm had acres filled with a creek, pond, old tobacco barns, corn crib, garden, orchard, woods with worn paths from the cattle and horses and much more.  My mind was free to become a writer, famous horse trainer, farmer, Miss America, Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, President of the USA - my options and imagination were endless.  

   Then, I was 42 years old. It seemed options were diminishing. 

January 16th, 2013, I have 7" of my small intestines removed including the tumor that was found in December. 

The next day, my recovery started and sent our family on a path that sometimes felt as if we were walking on fiery spikes.  But at this moment in the hospital, it was all about wanting my boys to know I was there.  Truly there.  

January 18th, 2013  The only one in the room with me when the doctor came in was my father. As the doctor stood there, I could only feel emptiness.  Nothing else.  Just hollow.  

As Mom and David came in from getting a bite to eat,  I told them it was cancer.  Colon cancer.  Stage 3c. 4 out of 15 lymph nodes effect.  Stage 3b would have been a much better choice!  The statistics for survival are much better, but at least I was still a stage away from the ominous stage 4.

Gabe and Grayson each crawled up in the bed with me understanding at different levels our new truth.  How do you explain to family and friends the diagnosis?  How do you tell your 7 and 11 year old children that you have a disease and the statistics aren't in your favor?  One at a time, mom would take one of them down the hall for a walk. David and I laid out in careful words what had happened to me....to us. 

The boys were a bit dazed and concerned.  They just wanted me home.  Everything would be okay if we were all together at home.

I seemed to be able to handle the days with humor.  Nights, well, I still struggle with those. Humor became my survival mode. Whether it is a defense mechanism or instinct is unclear. Nonetheless, I knew I needed to open, vulnerable, and have a lot of laughter in my life.  

Healing from surgery was much quicker than standing up straight again after gut punch of the C word.  How would we make it?  How long would I be here?

Every day I think of these.  But anniversaries seem to bring all these memories flooding back.

We have been on the journey for years.  The path isn't always clear and it looks like we still have a mountain in front of us.

Some days we all still look/feel a bit dazed and confused.  But, we get up and keep going.  I want to go out and live life every day.

Today is no different.

Living.  Laughing.  Loving.  

Results: scanned looked stable. Not going for more chemo at this time. CEA rumor markers in my bloodwork when from 9 to 25 since August. 

Would appreciate prayers, positive thoughts, love and light. 

Love to you all!

2020

Wow.  Another year.  #7.  Okay, so this year, I will turn 50, but I will also turn 7.  Many people make resolutions to change the bad habits they have into better ones.  I beat myself up like most women and most moms over choices of words, foods, and everything else we are critical of when we look in the mirror or do reflection on the day.  Should I try to force myself:
     to go to bed on time every night?
    drink less wine?
     stop saying words that others have said are bad when I cut myself or can't make it up or down the              stairs in the morning without lots of grunting?
     feeling like I am less than because my body, skin and bones are shot and I don't look or act like                 my age?
     pretend I am not a passionate person that overreacts and regrets their emotions
And the list could go on and on!
So, how does one go about making a resolution when they are purely happy to be alive?
Well, I am not exactly sure, but this blog is the start.  I intend on acting more on my intentions, continuing to improve on what needs improving, taking as many negatives out and laughing at myself when I fail.
Maybe those are resolutions afterall.  Here is to 2020!  Wishing everyone a healthy, happy and successful year.
Here is our major party in the Sheets household!

Teaching an old dog a new trick

I may be getting ready to turn 50, but if my mom has taught me anything, it is that you never stop learning and pushing yourself to work towards a goal.
Please check out my blog and add your email to get notices of new posts! 
Would love to see your comments!  I know it is one more step away and it isn't as easy as going to Facebook, but I just need a break. 
Thank you!

Cozy Snuggly

Because I detest not being able to pronounce a word such as the Swedish word Hygge, I must use lower level words, yet not less effective, of cozy and snuggly.  Winter isn't my favorite season because of days without much sunlight or warmth on my skin.  My new fight against winter depression is to embrace the season.  The mantle will have lights on it all winter that come on around dusk.  Our back room chairs will be covered with cozy pillows and snuggly throws with bright, but seasonal colors.  This holiday break, I have given myself permission to slow down, piddle, be stagnant, get lost in my thoughts, sleep late and have no schedule.  My skin feels better. My heart is lighter.  I am calmer.  Ahhhhh.
So, for those of you who struggle with winter as I do, let's embrace it and find ways to make it a happy time.

Keep on learning

How to live life with a bit of spice
 Lesson #1

Every day is an opportunity to stretch your wings and figure out new ways to do old things or do the same things that make you feel warm and comfy inside.  Sometimes though, learning is exhausting and makes your feel confused and incompetent.  Gabe being home is wonderful, but it shows me that our lives are changing.  We are learning to be a different kind of family.  Standing back a few more feet to let him decide his path in his own way is harder than telling him how to do it our way.  Grayson continues to go 100 miles per hour in all things he does.  This sometimes means he hits a slick spot and crashes.  The resilience of this young man continues to amaze me.

When I am overwhelmed by being their mom, I try to slow down, breathe, and take stock in the fact that they bounce back, find new inspiration and ideas.  Gabe & Grayson's spark for life gives me the comfort of the love, warmth and giggles I remember from their days of being my littles.