“These things I have spoken unto you, that in Me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” ~John 16:33 (KJV)
"Things don't go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be."
~ Charlie Jones, motivational speaker and author of “Life is Tremendous”
Fighting Life
By Eileen Umbehr
Do you ever feel like you’re fighting life
Or that life is fighting you?
Believe me when I say that I understand
Because I have felt that way, too.
But life has a way of teaching us
Those lessons we so need to learn
And if we don’t pass the test the first time
We just start over and repeat our turn.
We can waste a lot of time asking God “why?”
Or we can trust that He knows what is best
After all, He loves us more than anyone could
And His desire is that we be blessed.
But just as our children don’t always agree
With the decisions that we parents make
We just hope that one day they will understand
That we did what we did for their sake.
For faith is the substance of things hoped for
And the evidence of things not seen
That means putting our life in God’s capable hands,
From beginning to end and in between.
Yes, the Bible tells us not to avoid our problems
But let patience have its perfect work
Because then we will not lack in anything
That we need to survive on this Earth
For not until we reach those Pearly Gates
Will the troubles of life pass away
So for now I will endeavor to let God be God
And for His strength daily I will pray.
****************************
“Thank you, Lord, for all that I learned from my brokenness . . . .for the courage it takes to live with the pain. . . .and for the strength it takes to remain on the shore.” ~ Carol Hamblet Adams, author of “My Beautiful Broken Shell”
In 1981, Rabbi Harold Kushner published a book titled, “When Bad Things Happen to Good People,” which later became a #1 bestseller. The publisher’s comments listed on the Barnes and Noble website describe how Rabbi Kushner wrote the book after learning that his three-year-old son, Aaron, would die in his early teens from a rare disease.
I think it is understandable for those who are confronted with tragedy in their lives to wonder why this particular event happened to them or their family. We often ask what we did to deserve this, as if it is some form of punishment for past sins. But that is simply not the case. In the Book of Job we read that Job was a man who was “blameless and upright, one who feared God and shunned evil.” Our righteousness - or lack thereof – has nothing whatsoever to do with the amount of tribulation in our life.
“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.” ~Psalm 34: 18,19
If we look at the life and death of Jesus Himself, He prayed that if possible, His cup of suffering could pass from Him. But then He added, “Not my will, but Thine be done.” Jesus realized that there was so much more at stake – indeed, the salvation of all mankind. In the same way, we need to realize that sometimes our troubles are not about us, but about how God can miraculously use difficult situations in our lives to help multitudes of others cope with the struggles in their life.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” ~ II Corinthians 1:3,4 (NKJV)
Rabbi Kushner stated that he not only wrote his book out of a need to process his own grief, but in hopes of helping others who might find themselves facing a similar situation. “I am fundamentally a religious man who has been hurt by life and I wanted to write a book that could be given to the person who has been hurt by life, and who knows in his heart that if there is justice in the world, he deserved better... If you are such a person, if you want to believe in God's goodness and fairness but find it hard because of the things that have happened to you and to people you care about, and if this book helps you do that, then I will have succeeded in distilling some blessing out of Aaron's pain and tears."
I think that’s what we all look for in times of trial – a way to garner something positive out of an event that is seemingly wholly negative. In the case of my cancer diagnosis and subsequent mastectomy, it is my deepest desire that the good that comes from it could very possibly be lives saved – lives of women who, after reading or hearing about my experience, will themselves get the mammogram they have been putting off. In so doing, maybe some of them will be fortunate enough to catch the disease at an early stage so that they will be able to treat it and go on to enjoy a long and healthy life. Yes, that is my heartfelt prayer.
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” ~Romans 8:35,37-39 and 28 (NKJV)
Monday, September 11, 2006
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Remembering Quentin
“Just one more thing before you leave,
Don’t forget to remember me.”
“Don’t Forget to Remember Me” ~ recorded by Carrie Underwood
“Don’t forget me.” Those were the last words I ever heard our dear friend Quentin Katt say before he lost his battle with cancer one year ago. Quentin passed away on his 72nd birthday, September 13, 2005.
Keen and Quentin met when they were both serving on the Alma City Council, and they became the best of friends. During those stressful years when we were fighting with the County Commissioners and throughout the lawsuit, Quentin Katt was one of Keen’s only friends. Before Quentin died, I had the chance to thank him for being there for Keen during those difficult times. He replied, “I always said, ‘he was my friend.’”
Quentin had a shop with a television and an easy chair out in the garage at his house. It was a place where Quentin’s friends were welcome to drop by and sit a spell anytime. They could always find Quentin in there smoking his pipe. Speaking of which, I’ll never forget the time Keen took our youngest son Kirk across the street to visit Quentin during half time of a Wabaunsee High School basketball game. Apparently, Kirk asked Quentin if he could puff on his pipe, so Quentin let him. I was taking tickets by the entrance that night, and I’ll never forget my little son running towards me with excitement in his voice saying, “Mommy, Mommy! Quentin taught me how to ‘moke!”
Quentin enjoyed the simple things in life, but he was anything but simple. He and Keen would often have deep philosophical conversations. When it came to politics, they couldn’t have been more opposite – but that’s what made their conversations so lively and stimulating. Quentin’s shop was a safe place for Keen to go and let off steam. Quentin was always there to lend an ear and offer a word of sage advice.
Keen learned so much from Quentin. One of the things he learned was a lesson contained in Quentin’s favorite poem – a poem titled “Outwitted” by Edwin Markham,which was published in the program for Quentin’s memorial service.
He drew a circle that shut me out –
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in!
Quentin and his wife Aleta raised six wonderful children; three boys and three girls, who are all living happy, successful lives and raising children of their own. Their daughter, Diana, became a doctor and returned to her hometown to establish a medical clinic.
Quentin’s philosophy of life was described in a wooden plaque that hung on the wall of his garage. “He who dies with the most gold still dies.” At his memorial service, Quentin’s son mentioned that some of his dad’s most cherished possessions were artifacts Keen Umbehr found on his trash route.
I’d like to close with this poem written by William Karnowski, a poet and author from Wamego, who graciously gave me permission to share any of his writings in my column:
Dad
By William J. Karnowski
(From his book of poetry titled: Pushing the Chain)
When your father is alive
You know you might
Die some day
When HE dies
Then YOU believe
It.
When your father is alive,
You hope he really
Is immortal.
When he dies,
You are sure
You are not.
The sad thing is this;
If you are a good man,
When you die,
It will break
Your son’s heart.
I am sure.
*************
Forget you, Quentin? Not a chance! Until we meet again, old friend, we will be remembering you.
Quentin and Keen in Quentin's shop about one year before he passed away
Keen and Quentin's last visit (on our porch)
The Empty Chair
Don’t forget to remember me.”
“Don’t Forget to Remember Me” ~ recorded by Carrie Underwood
“Don’t forget me.” Those were the last words I ever heard our dear friend Quentin Katt say before he lost his battle with cancer one year ago. Quentin passed away on his 72nd birthday, September 13, 2005.
Keen and Quentin met when they were both serving on the Alma City Council, and they became the best of friends. During those stressful years when we were fighting with the County Commissioners and throughout the lawsuit, Quentin Katt was one of Keen’s only friends. Before Quentin died, I had the chance to thank him for being there for Keen during those difficult times. He replied, “I always said, ‘he was my friend.’”
Quentin had a shop with a television and an easy chair out in the garage at his house. It was a place where Quentin’s friends were welcome to drop by and sit a spell anytime. They could always find Quentin in there smoking his pipe. Speaking of which, I’ll never forget the time Keen took our youngest son Kirk across the street to visit Quentin during half time of a Wabaunsee High School basketball game. Apparently, Kirk asked Quentin if he could puff on his pipe, so Quentin let him. I was taking tickets by the entrance that night, and I’ll never forget my little son running towards me with excitement in his voice saying, “Mommy, Mommy! Quentin taught me how to ‘moke!”
Quentin enjoyed the simple things in life, but he was anything but simple. He and Keen would often have deep philosophical conversations. When it came to politics, they couldn’t have been more opposite – but that’s what made their conversations so lively and stimulating. Quentin’s shop was a safe place for Keen to go and let off steam. Quentin was always there to lend an ear and offer a word of sage advice.
Keen learned so much from Quentin. One of the things he learned was a lesson contained in Quentin’s favorite poem – a poem titled “Outwitted” by Edwin Markham,which was published in the program for Quentin’s memorial service.
He drew a circle that shut me out –
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in!
Quentin and his wife Aleta raised six wonderful children; three boys and three girls, who are all living happy, successful lives and raising children of their own. Their daughter, Diana, became a doctor and returned to her hometown to establish a medical clinic.
Quentin’s philosophy of life was described in a wooden plaque that hung on the wall of his garage. “He who dies with the most gold still dies.” At his memorial service, Quentin’s son mentioned that some of his dad’s most cherished possessions were artifacts Keen Umbehr found on his trash route.
I’d like to close with this poem written by William Karnowski, a poet and author from Wamego, who graciously gave me permission to share any of his writings in my column:
Dad
By William J. Karnowski
(From his book of poetry titled: Pushing the Chain)
When your father is alive
You know you might
Die some day
When HE dies
Then YOU believe
It.
When your father is alive,
You hope he really
Is immortal.
When he dies,
You are sure
You are not.
The sad thing is this;
If you are a good man,
When you die,
It will break
Your son’s heart.
I am sure.
*************
Forget you, Quentin? Not a chance! Until we meet again, old friend, we will be remembering you.
Quentin and Keen in Quentin's shop about one year before he passed away
Keen and Quentin's last visit (on our porch)
The Empty Chair
Monday, August 28, 2006
Insights and Inspiration
“But encourage one another day after day. . . .” ~ Hebrews 3:13a
Rejoice that you are more precious than gold
Pray for insight to find why you live
He’ll answer prayer and give power for purpose
As in gratitude with affection you give
~Excerpt from poem titled “Incredibly Valuable” by Patricia Kohls Barrett
******************************
This week I’d like to share some insights and inspiration I’ve received from friends and family. Many thanks to each and every one of you who have held me up in prayer and encouraged me with words of love and support throughout these past few difficult months:
Dear Eileen: In your column "Becoming Me", you told it like it is. You wrote a good column telling how you feel after your surgery. You will be an inspiration to other women who may be facing this kind of surgery . . .This surgery would have floored a lot of women, but you are handling it very well. God has given you a special kind of husband in standing by you and making comments about his love for you. This is all for now.
******************************
Dear Eileen,
Isn’t tragic that the shape of bodies are such a priority when we are looking for spouse, while they contribute so little to our happiness once we have been married for a while? I think quite often if [my wife] had not been in her accident, I may never have realized how much I love her, and how little the shape of her body contributed to my love for her. . . .
[My wife] and I watched “A Fiddler on the Roof” recently. The most poignant part of the movie is where Tevye asked Goldie, his wife, if she loved him. It reinforced the idea that marriage is about commitment and love – our western culture uses it is a by-product of that commitment rather than the other way around.
We continue to pray for you and your family as you journey to “wholeness” . . . .
******************************
Wow Eileen - very real - very helpful - very profound.
You go girl!!
******************************
Beautifully written and very heartfelt, as always, Eileen. I felt you let us "walk in your shoes" for a little while. God Bless you for your wisdom, strength and courage in handling the surgery and new "physical" you. As we know, that is all that has changed, thank goodness!
******************************
Dear Eileen...
You have ploughed through one of the most traumatic/dramatic
operations a woman can have done.
It was smart, it was a preventative strategy, and ~
it was positive for you and your growing family.
There are deep connections which tie us to our body parts.
Especially those parts that are spiritual in their goodness...
the privileged ones that sustain life and nourish our precious babies.
It is how we give ourselves value and purpose...
because we receive so much more as we are giving
from our physical bodies,
our Self adheres to that which is obvious, or seen.
We glance at ourselves in mirrors and confirm that which we see....
So how does a woman who has been a wonderful mother and example
begin to see herself anew?
She does exactly as you are doing right now.
You tear down some things and rebuild.
You cry because you let go....
of incredibly soulful,
physically maternal energies
you once saw yourself as being.
You've come a long way, Baby...
and you'll continue to be the greatest mother,
mother-in-love, and grandmother ever.
Just keep doing what you need to, in order to feel
where you are in the process.
Do not apologize for writing about this!!!
It's real.
It's scary.
It's female.
I learn so much from your strength and honesty...
... and I love you for it.
******************************
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." ~ Lamentations 3:21-24
Pasture burning on the Kansas horizon
Rejoice that you are more precious than gold
Pray for insight to find why you live
He’ll answer prayer and give power for purpose
As in gratitude with affection you give
~Excerpt from poem titled “Incredibly Valuable” by Patricia Kohls Barrett
******************************
This week I’d like to share some insights and inspiration I’ve received from friends and family. Many thanks to each and every one of you who have held me up in prayer and encouraged me with words of love and support throughout these past few difficult months:
Dear Eileen: In your column "Becoming Me", you told it like it is. You wrote a good column telling how you feel after your surgery. You will be an inspiration to other women who may be facing this kind of surgery . . .This surgery would have floored a lot of women, but you are handling it very well. God has given you a special kind of husband in standing by you and making comments about his love for you. This is all for now.
******************************
Dear Eileen,
Isn’t tragic that the shape of bodies are such a priority when we are looking for spouse, while they contribute so little to our happiness once we have been married for a while? I think quite often if [my wife] had not been in her accident, I may never have realized how much I love her, and how little the shape of her body contributed to my love for her. . . .
[My wife] and I watched “A Fiddler on the Roof” recently. The most poignant part of the movie is where Tevye asked Goldie, his wife, if she loved him. It reinforced the idea that marriage is about commitment and love – our western culture uses it is a by-product of that commitment rather than the other way around.
We continue to pray for you and your family as you journey to “wholeness” . . . .
******************************
Wow Eileen - very real - very helpful - very profound.
You go girl!!
******************************
Beautifully written and very heartfelt, as always, Eileen. I felt you let us "walk in your shoes" for a little while. God Bless you for your wisdom, strength and courage in handling the surgery and new "physical" you. As we know, that is all that has changed, thank goodness!
******************************
Dear Eileen...
You have ploughed through one of the most traumatic/dramatic
operations a woman can have done.
It was smart, it was a preventative strategy, and ~
it was positive for you and your growing family.
There are deep connections which tie us to our body parts.
Especially those parts that are spiritual in their goodness...
the privileged ones that sustain life and nourish our precious babies.
It is how we give ourselves value and purpose...
because we receive so much more as we are giving
from our physical bodies,
our Self adheres to that which is obvious, or seen.
We glance at ourselves in mirrors and confirm that which we see....
So how does a woman who has been a wonderful mother and example
begin to see herself anew?
She does exactly as you are doing right now.
You tear down some things and rebuild.
You cry because you let go....
of incredibly soulful,
physically maternal energies
you once saw yourself as being.
You've come a long way, Baby...
and you'll continue to be the greatest mother,
mother-in-love, and grandmother ever.
Just keep doing what you need to, in order to feel
where you are in the process.
Do not apologize for writing about this!!!
It's real.
It's scary.
It's female.
I learn so much from your strength and honesty...
... and I love you for it.
******************************
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." ~ Lamentations 3:21-24
Pasture burning on the Kansas horizon
Monday, August 21, 2006
Damaged Goods
“As it is written, ‘There is none righteous, not even one . . . for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.'” ~ Romans 3:10, 23
I promise not to keep writing about my mastectomy, but I’d just like to share a few more thoughts I’ve had this past week.
Initially, I cried very few tears over the loss of my breasts because I was so relieved that the cancer had not spread and the doctors didn’t discover any invasive cancer cells in my lymph nodes or breast tissue. But post-traumatic stress is a very real thing, and now it seems I’m making up for lost time! No matter how convinced Keen and I are about the merit of the decision we made, it has still been very traumatic to have part of my anatomy amputated.
Earlier this month we traveled to Kiawah Island, South Carolina, for the annual Van Kirk family reunion. It was a beautiful spot located right on the beach, and we all had a grand time touring historic Charleston, kayaking, swimming, riding the waves, enjoying some delicious seafood and Southern barbecue, and of course, spending time together.
The Van Kirk Family at Kiawah Island, South Carolina
Yet for some reason it was emotionally more difficult for me to have my immediate family see me without my prosthesis. But I didn’t really have any choice since it was hotter than Hades down there and the only way to survive was to dress as lightly as possible!
Eileen "staying cool" in Kiawah
As I continue to adjust to my breast-less chest and the ever-present scars that I see when I look in the mirror, I am reminded of the message contained in the above Bible verse. From a spiritual standpoint, we are all damaged goods. But thank God for Jesus, who paid the ultimate price for our sins and moral failures.
“All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way;
But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him.” ~ Isaiah 53:6 (NASB)
Although we may strive to “do what Jesus would do” and live godly lives, all too often we fall short of the glory of God. But the size or quantity of sins we’ve committed in our lifetime makes no difference to God, for where sin abounds, grace much more abounds. (Romans 5:20). As long as we accept God’s free gift of forgiveness – by faith – then we are washed completely clean.
“Come now, and let us reason together," says the Lord, "though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.” ~ Isaiah 1:18 (NASB)
A beautiful Christian friend of mine recently sent me a note which emphasized this point in a unique way. “If you look closely,” she wrote, “everyone has scars – some real, some imagined; some physical and some emotional. You have chosen what is important. You chose life and life more abundantly . . . Jesus is the Answer, and He heals all our scars.”
That is so true. My friend Pat Barrett described it this way in her poem titled, “Lessons in Dents and Chips.” This is a short excerpt from that poem:
When I look at scratches and dents
I’m reminded to keep perspective
God uses me to serve Him
Even though I am defective
Just as I must learn to live with my physical “scratches and dents”, we must all learn to accept our personal faults and shortcomings. Most importantly, we need to realize that God loves us, despite our imperfections, and He wants to use our lives to shine forth His love to the world.
“I say to the Lord, ‘You are my Lord; I have no good beside or beyond You.” ~ Psalm 16:2 (Amplified)
Keen II, Keen, Eileen & Kirk Van in Kiawah (try saying that 10 times fast!)
I promise not to keep writing about my mastectomy, but I’d just like to share a few more thoughts I’ve had this past week.
Initially, I cried very few tears over the loss of my breasts because I was so relieved that the cancer had not spread and the doctors didn’t discover any invasive cancer cells in my lymph nodes or breast tissue. But post-traumatic stress is a very real thing, and now it seems I’m making up for lost time! No matter how convinced Keen and I are about the merit of the decision we made, it has still been very traumatic to have part of my anatomy amputated.
Earlier this month we traveled to Kiawah Island, South Carolina, for the annual Van Kirk family reunion. It was a beautiful spot located right on the beach, and we all had a grand time touring historic Charleston, kayaking, swimming, riding the waves, enjoying some delicious seafood and Southern barbecue, and of course, spending time together.
The Van Kirk Family at Kiawah Island, South CarolinaYet for some reason it was emotionally more difficult for me to have my immediate family see me without my prosthesis. But I didn’t really have any choice since it was hotter than Hades down there and the only way to survive was to dress as lightly as possible!
Eileen "staying cool" in KiawahAs I continue to adjust to my breast-less chest and the ever-present scars that I see when I look in the mirror, I am reminded of the message contained in the above Bible verse. From a spiritual standpoint, we are all damaged goods. But thank God for Jesus, who paid the ultimate price for our sins and moral failures.
“All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way;
But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him.” ~ Isaiah 53:6 (NASB)
Although we may strive to “do what Jesus would do” and live godly lives, all too often we fall short of the glory of God. But the size or quantity of sins we’ve committed in our lifetime makes no difference to God, for where sin abounds, grace much more abounds. (Romans 5:20). As long as we accept God’s free gift of forgiveness – by faith – then we are washed completely clean.
“Come now, and let us reason together," says the Lord, "though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.” ~ Isaiah 1:18 (NASB)
A beautiful Christian friend of mine recently sent me a note which emphasized this point in a unique way. “If you look closely,” she wrote, “everyone has scars – some real, some imagined; some physical and some emotional. You have chosen what is important. You chose life and life more abundantly . . . Jesus is the Answer, and He heals all our scars.”
That is so true. My friend Pat Barrett described it this way in her poem titled, “Lessons in Dents and Chips.” This is a short excerpt from that poem:
When I look at scratches and dents
I’m reminded to keep perspective
God uses me to serve Him
Even though I am defective
Just as I must learn to live with my physical “scratches and dents”, we must all learn to accept our personal faults and shortcomings. Most importantly, we need to realize that God loves us, despite our imperfections, and He wants to use our lives to shine forth His love to the world.
“I say to the Lord, ‘You are my Lord; I have no good beside or beyond You.” ~ Psalm 16:2 (Amplified)
Keen II, Keen, Eileen & Kirk Van in Kiawah (try saying that 10 times fast!)
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Becoming Me
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, old things have passed away; and behold, all things have become new.” ~II Corinthians 5:17 (NKJV)
The other day I turned on the television just in time to hear a talk show host announce the topic of her upcoming show: “Change your bra and change your life!” Maybe it’s just a sore subject for me, but up until I had my mastectomy, I never noticed what a breast-obsessed world we live in. Then again, as I look back on my years as a budding pre-teen, I recall doing “bust exercises” and chanting a cheer with one unnamed sister. “We must, we must, we must develop our busts! The bigger, the better, the tighter the sweater – we must develop our busts!” (Bring back memories, anyone?) And I still remember the year my mom gave me my first training bra for Valentine’s Day and how I locked myself in the bathroom so I could experiment with tissue enhancements. So I guess most girls are programmed from an early age to aspire to look like their Barbie dolls. It’s like the actresses who proudly parade down the red carpet, as if their breasts are their greatest asset. (Maybe in some cases, they are.) Again, I hope this doesn’t sound like sour grapes, but losing my breasts has definitely given me a new perspective on life. It just seems so superficial to place such great importance on a physical appendage. Change your life, by changing your bra? Give me a break. How about, “Change your heart and change your life!”
“Keep your heart with all vigilance; for from it flow the springs of life.”~Proverbs 4:23 (RSV)
Nevertheless, I must admit that adjusting to life without breasts has been very difficult. It is awkward being a breast-less woman in a breast-filled world. And I can’t help but notice the stares and double-takes I get when I go out in public without my prosthesis. (Apparently a flat chest sticks out more than you might think. Ironic, isn’t it?) But I am determined to find a way to become comfortable with the new shape of my body, because the thought of being ashamed of it is a notion that I simply cannot bear.
The other day I made a trip to Hair Secrets in Topeka, Kansas, to get fitted for my permanent prosthesis (the first one was more lightweight to give me some time to heal), and I must say that I was very pleased with the results. In fact, they look better than my real ones did. After nursing four babies, they weren’t going to win any blue ribbons at the fair, that’s for sure. (Maybe not even an honorable mention!) At any rate, I like having the freedom to choose between wearing the prosthesis or going without. It’s kind of like deciding whether or not to wear make-up. So when I want to dress up, I’ll just strap on my Sunday-go-to-meeting gear. It’s just important for me to be okay with myself either way.
You could also compare it to learning how to become comfortable with your own weight, even if you’re not a perfect size by the world’s standards. I had a friend once who refused to buy herself any new clothes until she lost some weight, and I told her that I thought it was important for her to see herself as “worthy” of a new outfit just the way she was. Then if she wanted to lose weight, fine. I eventually insisted on buying her a new pair of jeans and a pink oxford shirt – just to make my point. We still refer to it as “the pink shirt theory.” Love yourself, wherever you are in life; and accept yourself – regardless of your outward appearance. Don’t attach your worth to your weight! Just as I am not my breasts, none of us are our weight, either!
In Geralyn Lucas’ book, Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy, she expressed the following feelings about her pending surgery: “When I lose my breast I will be stripped of part of what I thought made me a woman, made me desirable. But, I think, I will still be me. Maybe I am like an antique table that is being stripped before being re-varnished. Layers will be peeled away to reveal something beautiful underneath . . . And when there is nothing left to strip, maybe there will be a revelation of a different beauty underneath, one that I never knew existed.”
But as I stated earlier, it has been a difficult adjustment indeed. There’s nothing easy about seeing two horizontal scars where my breasts used to be. A friend of mine who was paralyzed in an accident shared how she had to “mourn – grieve in all the stages,” the loss of the use of her legs. Although my situation seems insignificant by comparison, Keen and I have both had to grieve the loss of the old me – that is, the former shape of my physical body. But I am still the same person on the inside. In fact, if you consider the principle that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” you could even say that I’m a new and improved version. I do feel stronger after this experience, which makes me better prepared for the next trial I may have to face.
“Dear brothers and sisters, whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything.” ~James 1:2-4 (NLT)
I’m reminded of the time in the late 80’s when Keen and I opened our little restaurant in Alma called The Back Porch. We thought we had a great idea, but we were never able to turn a profit. In fact, it was costing us more money to keep the doors open, than to shut it down and continue making our monthly payment to the bank. Still, we fought hard to hang on. But we finally faced the harsh reality that the restaurant was slowly sinking our financial ship. Although it was difficult to forfeit our dream and suffer the public humiliation of a failed business, we had to let it go to save our life. The restaurant, like my breasts, had become a liability.
“Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
~Matthew 7:19 (NKJV)
Having a supportive spouse has been such a precious gift during this journey. Keen never seems to run out of encouraging words for me. Recently, when he put his hand on my chest he said, “Now I’m closer to your heart.” Another time he said: “Your scars reflect your beauty.” He often reassures me that he is still attracted to me – maybe even more so – and that our moments together are even more meaningful now because of all that we’ve been through.
I have also found that keeping a good sense of humor has helped me during the recovery process. As it says in Proverbs: “A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones.” The Bible also says that the joy of the Lord is your strength, so I am working very hard at maintaining a merry heart and a joyful spirit.
Along these same lines, recently I saw a contestant on the television show, “Last Comic Standing” who seemed to adopt this same philosophy about her severe lisp. Rather than be depressed and embarrassed about her speech impediment, she decided to turn it into something positive. In her comedy routine, she talks about how she attended speech therapy classes as a young girl and they would tell her to repeat words like “wagon” or “tree.” She said: “I can say wagon; I can say tree! How about supercalafragalistic-expialadosish? I seem to be having a little trouble with that word!” So the use of humor can be a very effective tool in taking the sting out of emotional pain.
"More important than talent, strength, or knowledge is the ability to laugh at yourself and enjoy the pursuit of your dreams." ~Amy Grant, Christian singer
One night after my surgery our son Keener decided to play a practical joke on me by hiding behind a door and jumping out to scare me when I walked in the room. Well, it worked – a little too well – and I screamed at the top of my lungs. Keener felt just terrible, apologized and gave me a big hug. So I jokingly chastised him saying: “Be nice to your mom! Just because I have a flat chest doesn’t mean I’m one of the guys!”
Another time I was talking to Keen on the phone at his law office, and he mentioned that he and one of his colleagues dressed exactly alike that day. The colleague was standing right there and commented that the main difference between them was that he was having a bad hair day. (He’s completely bald.) So I told Keen to tell him not to feel bad because I was having a bad chest day. Keen’s colleague replied that hair and chests are two things that are highly overrated.
I’ve discovered that there is one small caveat to my use of humor, however. It seems that I can make jokes about my flat chest, but nobody else can. We learned this lesson the hard way when my sweet, supportive husband thought it was safe to come up with his own joke since he saw that I was able to joke about it. As our three-year-old grandson Gabe would say: “That’s not punny!” When I explained the rules to my brother Joe, he said: “I certainly respect your right to make all the jokes, but I reserve the right to repeat them!” I don’t have a problem with that – as long as the jokes originate from me!
Geralyn Lucas chose to have immediate reconstruction surgery after her mastectomy, and later she agreed to pose for a special breast cancer survivor’s edition of Self Magazine. In her book she described her experience this way: “I never existed as a beautiful woman until I saw myself that July day . . . In every photo in the past, I hated my nose, my cheeks, my smile. Now, when there is a huge defect, I was the most beautiful. I had set out to inspire other women that they could be beautiful after this surgery and I ended up convincing myself.”
As for me, I may or may not decide to have reconstruction surgery at some point in the future. But if I do, it will be after I have learned to accept myself and the new shape of my body – just the way it is.
So if you see me out and about sometime without my prosthesis, then you’ll know that you caught me on a day when I mustered up the courage to simply be “me.”
July 3, 2006 ~ My 48th Birthday
The other day I turned on the television just in time to hear a talk show host announce the topic of her upcoming show: “Change your bra and change your life!” Maybe it’s just a sore subject for me, but up until I had my mastectomy, I never noticed what a breast-obsessed world we live in. Then again, as I look back on my years as a budding pre-teen, I recall doing “bust exercises” and chanting a cheer with one unnamed sister. “We must, we must, we must develop our busts! The bigger, the better, the tighter the sweater – we must develop our busts!” (Bring back memories, anyone?) And I still remember the year my mom gave me my first training bra for Valentine’s Day and how I locked myself in the bathroom so I could experiment with tissue enhancements. So I guess most girls are programmed from an early age to aspire to look like their Barbie dolls. It’s like the actresses who proudly parade down the red carpet, as if their breasts are their greatest asset. (Maybe in some cases, they are.) Again, I hope this doesn’t sound like sour grapes, but losing my breasts has definitely given me a new perspective on life. It just seems so superficial to place such great importance on a physical appendage. Change your life, by changing your bra? Give me a break. How about, “Change your heart and change your life!”
“Keep your heart with all vigilance; for from it flow the springs of life.”~Proverbs 4:23 (RSV)
Nevertheless, I must admit that adjusting to life without breasts has been very difficult. It is awkward being a breast-less woman in a breast-filled world. And I can’t help but notice the stares and double-takes I get when I go out in public without my prosthesis. (Apparently a flat chest sticks out more than you might think. Ironic, isn’t it?) But I am determined to find a way to become comfortable with the new shape of my body, because the thought of being ashamed of it is a notion that I simply cannot bear.
The other day I made a trip to Hair Secrets in Topeka, Kansas, to get fitted for my permanent prosthesis (the first one was more lightweight to give me some time to heal), and I must say that I was very pleased with the results. In fact, they look better than my real ones did. After nursing four babies, they weren’t going to win any blue ribbons at the fair, that’s for sure. (Maybe not even an honorable mention!) At any rate, I like having the freedom to choose between wearing the prosthesis or going without. It’s kind of like deciding whether or not to wear make-up. So when I want to dress up, I’ll just strap on my Sunday-go-to-meeting gear. It’s just important for me to be okay with myself either way.
You could also compare it to learning how to become comfortable with your own weight, even if you’re not a perfect size by the world’s standards. I had a friend once who refused to buy herself any new clothes until she lost some weight, and I told her that I thought it was important for her to see herself as “worthy” of a new outfit just the way she was. Then if she wanted to lose weight, fine. I eventually insisted on buying her a new pair of jeans and a pink oxford shirt – just to make my point. We still refer to it as “the pink shirt theory.” Love yourself, wherever you are in life; and accept yourself – regardless of your outward appearance. Don’t attach your worth to your weight! Just as I am not my breasts, none of us are our weight, either!
In Geralyn Lucas’ book, Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy, she expressed the following feelings about her pending surgery: “When I lose my breast I will be stripped of part of what I thought made me a woman, made me desirable. But, I think, I will still be me. Maybe I am like an antique table that is being stripped before being re-varnished. Layers will be peeled away to reveal something beautiful underneath . . . And when there is nothing left to strip, maybe there will be a revelation of a different beauty underneath, one that I never knew existed.”
But as I stated earlier, it has been a difficult adjustment indeed. There’s nothing easy about seeing two horizontal scars where my breasts used to be. A friend of mine who was paralyzed in an accident shared how she had to “mourn – grieve in all the stages,” the loss of the use of her legs. Although my situation seems insignificant by comparison, Keen and I have both had to grieve the loss of the old me – that is, the former shape of my physical body. But I am still the same person on the inside. In fact, if you consider the principle that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” you could even say that I’m a new and improved version. I do feel stronger after this experience, which makes me better prepared for the next trial I may have to face.
“Dear brothers and sisters, whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything.” ~James 1:2-4 (NLT)
I’m reminded of the time in the late 80’s when Keen and I opened our little restaurant in Alma called The Back Porch. We thought we had a great idea, but we were never able to turn a profit. In fact, it was costing us more money to keep the doors open, than to shut it down and continue making our monthly payment to the bank. Still, we fought hard to hang on. But we finally faced the harsh reality that the restaurant was slowly sinking our financial ship. Although it was difficult to forfeit our dream and suffer the public humiliation of a failed business, we had to let it go to save our life. The restaurant, like my breasts, had become a liability.
“Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
~Matthew 7:19 (NKJV)
Having a supportive spouse has been such a precious gift during this journey. Keen never seems to run out of encouraging words for me. Recently, when he put his hand on my chest he said, “Now I’m closer to your heart.” Another time he said: “Your scars reflect your beauty.” He often reassures me that he is still attracted to me – maybe even more so – and that our moments together are even more meaningful now because of all that we’ve been through.
I have also found that keeping a good sense of humor has helped me during the recovery process. As it says in Proverbs: “A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones.” The Bible also says that the joy of the Lord is your strength, so I am working very hard at maintaining a merry heart and a joyful spirit.
Along these same lines, recently I saw a contestant on the television show, “Last Comic Standing” who seemed to adopt this same philosophy about her severe lisp. Rather than be depressed and embarrassed about her speech impediment, she decided to turn it into something positive. In her comedy routine, she talks about how she attended speech therapy classes as a young girl and they would tell her to repeat words like “wagon” or “tree.” She said: “I can say wagon; I can say tree! How about supercalafragalistic-expialadosish? I seem to be having a little trouble with that word!” So the use of humor can be a very effective tool in taking the sting out of emotional pain.
"More important than talent, strength, or knowledge is the ability to laugh at yourself and enjoy the pursuit of your dreams." ~Amy Grant, Christian singer
One night after my surgery our son Keener decided to play a practical joke on me by hiding behind a door and jumping out to scare me when I walked in the room. Well, it worked – a little too well – and I screamed at the top of my lungs. Keener felt just terrible, apologized and gave me a big hug. So I jokingly chastised him saying: “Be nice to your mom! Just because I have a flat chest doesn’t mean I’m one of the guys!”
Another time I was talking to Keen on the phone at his law office, and he mentioned that he and one of his colleagues dressed exactly alike that day. The colleague was standing right there and commented that the main difference between them was that he was having a bad hair day. (He’s completely bald.) So I told Keen to tell him not to feel bad because I was having a bad chest day. Keen’s colleague replied that hair and chests are two things that are highly overrated.
I’ve discovered that there is one small caveat to my use of humor, however. It seems that I can make jokes about my flat chest, but nobody else can. We learned this lesson the hard way when my sweet, supportive husband thought it was safe to come up with his own joke since he saw that I was able to joke about it. As our three-year-old grandson Gabe would say: “That’s not punny!” When I explained the rules to my brother Joe, he said: “I certainly respect your right to make all the jokes, but I reserve the right to repeat them!” I don’t have a problem with that – as long as the jokes originate from me!
Geralyn Lucas chose to have immediate reconstruction surgery after her mastectomy, and later she agreed to pose for a special breast cancer survivor’s edition of Self Magazine. In her book she described her experience this way: “I never existed as a beautiful woman until I saw myself that July day . . . In every photo in the past, I hated my nose, my cheeks, my smile. Now, when there is a huge defect, I was the most beautiful. I had set out to inspire other women that they could be beautiful after this surgery and I ended up convincing myself.”
As for me, I may or may not decide to have reconstruction surgery at some point in the future. But if I do, it will be after I have learned to accept myself and the new shape of my body – just the way it is.
So if you see me out and about sometime without my prosthesis, then you’ll know that you caught me on a day when I mustered up the courage to simply be “me.”
July 3, 2006 ~ My 48th Birthday
Monday, July 17, 2006
A Moment in Time
“And Gideon the son of Joash returned from battle before the sun [was up]....” ~ Judges 8:18 (KJV)
Rick Warren, author of the #1 Bestseller, The Purpose Driven Life, recently shared his belief that life is like two rails on a railroad track, as opposed to a series of hills and valleys. “At all times,” he stated, “you have something good and something bad in your life. No matter how good things are in your life, there is always something bad that needs to be worked on. And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for. You can focus on your purpose, or you can focus on your problems.”
Our family has witnessed this philosophy being played out multiple times during the past year. No matter how many bad things life has thrown our way, we have always had plenty of good things to be thankful for. This week, I am happy to be able to share some good news, brought to us courtesy of our kindhearted daughter-in-law, Erin.
As you may recall, Erin gave birth to our first granddaughter, Emma Eileen, on May 22nd. Emma was born prematurely and had to stay in the hospital for about a week, but she is doing really well now, thank God. While I was trying to figure out when I might be able to meet little Emma, Erin called with a big surprise. She said that Jared was scheduled to return home from Iraq on July 7, and she offered to fly all of us down to Mississippi to surprise him when he got off the plane! Needless to say, we were immediately on board (pardon the pun), and humbly accepted her generous offer.
Keen, Keener, Kirk and I all flew down the day before Jared was scheduled to arrive. (Josh and Lisa couldn’t make it since their own one-month old daughter, Katelyn Seraphina, had just been released from Children’s Mercy Hospital. She is also doing well – in fact, she just rolled over by herself for the first time – several months before most babies do!) I was so excited about the trip that I couldn’t sleep a wink the night before, but I made up for it on the ride to the airport and while traveling in the airplane.
When we arrived at Erin’s home, Grandpa and Uncles Keen and Kirk immediately started rough housing and wrestling with Asher and Gabe. Sounds of laughter and excited screams filled the air, as the boys were jostled and held upside down by their feet. Of course, the adults ran out of gas long before the boys did!
"Put me down, Uncle Keen!"
Uncle Kirk with Asher and Gabe
Meeting Emma for the first time was a sheer delight. She is such a sweet and beautiful little baby. Jared commented that if they dressed her in blue no one could tell if she was a boy or a girl – but I totally disagree! Emma definitely looks like a girl!
I so enjoyed holding her and looking into that pretty little face. I even got to feed her a bottle. Erin said she’ll take a bottle from anyone except her. Emma may be young, but she knows her momma, and when Momma is holding her, she won’t settle for anything but the real deal. Babies are so much smarter than we give them credit for!
Gramma Eileen holding Emma Eileen
Erin was able to reserve us a room at the Navy Lodge located right on base and within walking distance of their apartment. After a great night’s sleep, Keen and I walked to their apartment the next morning to make pancakes for the boys. When we arrived, we expected to see a flurry of activity with everyone getting ready for Jared’s arrival, but no one was stirring – not even a mouse. Then my cell phone rang; it was Erin calling from upstairs. “Are you guys downstairs?” she asked. When I said yes, she replied, “I got some bad news last night; I’ll be right down.” My heart just sank. I immediately imagined the worst case scenario that Jared’s arrival was postponed and we would miss him altogether since we were scheduled to fly out early the following day.
As it turned out, Jared’s flight had been delayed in Germany, but thankfully they were still scheduled to arrive that day, just five hours later than they originally planned.
The hours seemed to drag on, especially for Erin and her friend Amy, who were both anxiously awaiting their husbands’ return. Finally it was time to depart, and we drove to the Stennis Space Station (where Jared normally works) to pick up his Jeep. We still had some time to spare, so we decided to drive by Jared and Erin’s old apartment in Bay St. Louis – the one that had been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been bulldozed over yet and we could still see their possessions through the broken windows. I even walked to the front door and took a few pictures of what used to be their kitchen and living room. It was quite shocking to see the devastation.
At any rate, we made it back to the air base in plenty of time, all decked out in our matching t-shirts that I had made up at a store in Manhattan called Thread. We had a picture of Jared holding his gun put on the front of the shirts with the words, “Welcome Home, Jared/Daddy.” But I couldn’t put that picture on little Emma’s, so her little t-shirt had a picture of her wearing an outfit that had “Daddy’s girl” on the front of it. Then it said, “Welcome Home Daddy! I love you!” Since it would be the first time Jared met Emma, we jokingly thought about several other slogans we could have put on her shirt, such as: “Who’s My Daddy?” and “Where Have You Been All My Life, Daddy?”
While we gathered at the air base for a family photo before Jared’s arrival, a group of officers were standing nearby smirking at the sight of eight individuals of various sizes and ages wearing t-shirts with Jared’s blown-up muscle man picture plastered on the front. I made the comment that Jared was probably going to be mortified and they all broke out laughing.
Then they asked if their photographer could take a picture for their command. So the photographer took a group shot, and then he asked if he could take a close-up of one of the shirts. Well, I was wearing my new prosthesis and I wasn’t too sure if I was “even”, so I directed him to Keen’s chest instead of mine. The photographer also took a close-up shot of little Emma in her “Welcome Home, Daddy” shirt.
Smile, Emma!
The excitement continued to mount as the wives and children of the servicemen waited with great anticipation for the plane’s arrival. “Here it comes!” someone shouted. So we all ran outside and watched the mammoth green plane descend from the evening sky, just as the orange sun was setting on the horizon. It gave me goose bumps and brought tears to nearly everyone’s eyes.
After a short time, they opened the gates wide so all the families could rush to hug their loved ones. Keen said he didn’t expect to feel so much emotion when Jared stepped off the plane, but he couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his face. He said it was like watching Jared be born all over again. I, too, felt a rush of joy, relief and pride, while I busily snapped pictures and attempted to capture that magical moment in time.
The first person Jared saw was Erin walking towards him carrying his little six-week-old daughter, Emma.
She looked like such a little peanut in her daddy’s strong arms – and what a contrast between Jared in his military fatigues and Emma in her lily white outfit.
Together at last!
Asher and Gabe followed right behind to hug their daddy’s legs and welcome him home.
One by one, the rest of us worked our way to Jared, much to his surprise. “Erin made it all possible,” I said as I hugged him and cried. Although he was happy to see us, he was more than a little embarrassed by the array of T-shirts bearing his image. He said he would never hear the end of it from the other guys in his unit. (And he was right.)
After arriving back home, Keen cooked some delicious rib eye steaks on the grill and we all enjoyed spending time together and hearing about Jared’s experiences overseas. He was definitely in the thick of things, so we are very grateful that he made it home safely.
But no one is more grateful than Jared’s wife, Erin,
Who delivered a baby while he was away,
And two little boys named Asher and Gabe,
Who missed their daddy more than words can say.
Welcome Home, Jared. We are so proud of you...and we love you!
“You shall rejoice before the Lord your God, you and your son and your daughter....” ~ Deuteronomy 16:11a (NKJV)
Rick Warren, author of the #1 Bestseller, The Purpose Driven Life, recently shared his belief that life is like two rails on a railroad track, as opposed to a series of hills and valleys. “At all times,” he stated, “you have something good and something bad in your life. No matter how good things are in your life, there is always something bad that needs to be worked on. And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for. You can focus on your purpose, or you can focus on your problems.”
Our family has witnessed this philosophy being played out multiple times during the past year. No matter how many bad things life has thrown our way, we have always had plenty of good things to be thankful for. This week, I am happy to be able to share some good news, brought to us courtesy of our kindhearted daughter-in-law, Erin.
As you may recall, Erin gave birth to our first granddaughter, Emma Eileen, on May 22nd. Emma was born prematurely and had to stay in the hospital for about a week, but she is doing really well now, thank God. While I was trying to figure out when I might be able to meet little Emma, Erin called with a big surprise. She said that Jared was scheduled to return home from Iraq on July 7, and she offered to fly all of us down to Mississippi to surprise him when he got off the plane! Needless to say, we were immediately on board (pardon the pun), and humbly accepted her generous offer.
Keen, Keener, Kirk and I all flew down the day before Jared was scheduled to arrive. (Josh and Lisa couldn’t make it since their own one-month old daughter, Katelyn Seraphina, had just been released from Children’s Mercy Hospital. She is also doing well – in fact, she just rolled over by herself for the first time – several months before most babies do!) I was so excited about the trip that I couldn’t sleep a wink the night before, but I made up for it on the ride to the airport and while traveling in the airplane.
When we arrived at Erin’s home, Grandpa and Uncles Keen and Kirk immediately started rough housing and wrestling with Asher and Gabe. Sounds of laughter and excited screams filled the air, as the boys were jostled and held upside down by their feet. Of course, the adults ran out of gas long before the boys did!
"Put me down, Uncle Keen!"
Uncle Kirk with Asher and GabeMeeting Emma for the first time was a sheer delight. She is such a sweet and beautiful little baby. Jared commented that if they dressed her in blue no one could tell if she was a boy or a girl – but I totally disagree! Emma definitely looks like a girl!
I so enjoyed holding her and looking into that pretty little face. I even got to feed her a bottle. Erin said she’ll take a bottle from anyone except her. Emma may be young, but she knows her momma, and when Momma is holding her, she won’t settle for anything but the real deal. Babies are so much smarter than we give them credit for!
Gramma Eileen holding Emma EileenErin was able to reserve us a room at the Navy Lodge located right on base and within walking distance of their apartment. After a great night’s sleep, Keen and I walked to their apartment the next morning to make pancakes for the boys. When we arrived, we expected to see a flurry of activity with everyone getting ready for Jared’s arrival, but no one was stirring – not even a mouse. Then my cell phone rang; it was Erin calling from upstairs. “Are you guys downstairs?” she asked. When I said yes, she replied, “I got some bad news last night; I’ll be right down.” My heart just sank. I immediately imagined the worst case scenario that Jared’s arrival was postponed and we would miss him altogether since we were scheduled to fly out early the following day.
As it turned out, Jared’s flight had been delayed in Germany, but thankfully they were still scheduled to arrive that day, just five hours later than they originally planned.
The hours seemed to drag on, especially for Erin and her friend Amy, who were both anxiously awaiting their husbands’ return. Finally it was time to depart, and we drove to the Stennis Space Station (where Jared normally works) to pick up his Jeep. We still had some time to spare, so we decided to drive by Jared and Erin’s old apartment in Bay St. Louis – the one that had been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been bulldozed over yet and we could still see their possessions through the broken windows. I even walked to the front door and took a few pictures of what used to be their kitchen and living room. It was quite shocking to see the devastation.
At any rate, we made it back to the air base in plenty of time, all decked out in our matching t-shirts that I had made up at a store in Manhattan called Thread. We had a picture of Jared holding his gun put on the front of the shirts with the words, “Welcome Home, Jared/Daddy.” But I couldn’t put that picture on little Emma’s, so her little t-shirt had a picture of her wearing an outfit that had “Daddy’s girl” on the front of it. Then it said, “Welcome Home Daddy! I love you!” Since it would be the first time Jared met Emma, we jokingly thought about several other slogans we could have put on her shirt, such as: “Who’s My Daddy?” and “Where Have You Been All My Life, Daddy?”
While we gathered at the air base for a family photo before Jared’s arrival, a group of officers were standing nearby smirking at the sight of eight individuals of various sizes and ages wearing t-shirts with Jared’s blown-up muscle man picture plastered on the front. I made the comment that Jared was probably going to be mortified and they all broke out laughing.
Then they asked if their photographer could take a picture for their command. So the photographer took a group shot, and then he asked if he could take a close-up of one of the shirts. Well, I was wearing my new prosthesis and I wasn’t too sure if I was “even”, so I directed him to Keen’s chest instead of mine. The photographer also took a close-up shot of little Emma in her “Welcome Home, Daddy” shirt.
Smile, Emma!The excitement continued to mount as the wives and children of the servicemen waited with great anticipation for the plane’s arrival. “Here it comes!” someone shouted. So we all ran outside and watched the mammoth green plane descend from the evening sky, just as the orange sun was setting on the horizon. It gave me goose bumps and brought tears to nearly everyone’s eyes.
After a short time, they opened the gates wide so all the families could rush to hug their loved ones. Keen said he didn’t expect to feel so much emotion when Jared stepped off the plane, but he couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his face. He said it was like watching Jared be born all over again. I, too, felt a rush of joy, relief and pride, while I busily snapped pictures and attempted to capture that magical moment in time.The first person Jared saw was Erin walking towards him carrying his little six-week-old daughter, Emma.
She looked like such a little peanut in her daddy’s strong arms – and what a contrast between Jared in his military fatigues and Emma in her lily white outfit.
Together at last!Asher and Gabe followed right behind to hug their daddy’s legs and welcome him home.
One by one, the rest of us worked our way to Jared, much to his surprise. “Erin made it all possible,” I said as I hugged him and cried. Although he was happy to see us, he was more than a little embarrassed by the array of T-shirts bearing his image. He said he would never hear the end of it from the other guys in his unit. (And he was right.)
After arriving back home, Keen cooked some delicious rib eye steaks on the grill and we all enjoyed spending time together and hearing about Jared’s experiences overseas. He was definitely in the thick of things, so we are very grateful that he made it home safely.
But no one is more grateful than Jared’s wife, Erin,
Who delivered a baby while he was away,
And two little boys named Asher and Gabe,
Who missed their daddy more than words can say.
Welcome Home, Jared. We are so proud of you...and we love you!
“You shall rejoice before the Lord your God, you and your son and your daughter....” ~ Deuteronomy 16:11a (NKJV)
Monday, July 10, 2006
A Shelter From the Storm
"For Thou hast been a stronghold to the poor, a stronghold to the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat....” ~ Isaiah 25:4a (RSV)
This week I’d like to share something Keen’s sister wrote during a thunderstorm that took place the day before my surgery. ~ Eileen
Winds Swirl
By Kihm Umbehr Blount
June 20, 2006
Winds swirl.
Trees bend.
Flowerpots sway
Then are thrown back and forth.
Dark clouds mingle with blue sky.
Then dark overtakes the light.
The sound of the wind is more forceful now.
Is it the leaves or the sound of wind itself?
The trees and leaves look like the waves –
The ocean of the sea in a storm –
green rolling thunderous grass.
One knows not when it will lessen or crescendo.
We who are stationary are at the wind’s mercy.
Until we sway with a blast and are forced backwards
Bending our head into the winds in order to walk forward.
Deep rolling sound in the distance…
Threatening future awaits.
Light enough to write by
Dark enough for a brief shadow.
Will it continue?
Will it stop?
Will it lessen?
Will it crescendo?
Nothing physical yet broken,
No large item yet moved.
It is written – “Jesus slept.”
Slumber of the deepest kind.
Cares…non-existent.
My watchful eye raises every moment –
Anticipating the next forceful upsurge.
I am unaware of where the end will be.
At least the wind is cool
Could even say refreshing.
Yesterday the sun beat down,
Searing flesh when touched to the physical.
This…now… is a welcome reprieve.
A lull now…
What seemed so strong a little before
Now appears managed to me.
THIS wind is familiar
In the short time since it began.
Does my own fear lessen in this midst?
Unthinkable that I could slumber as He!
Fine mist now – the smell of rain
Do I wish for a downpour –
To joy in the sun’s rays at its end?
Doesn’t the wind always get strong
Before the rain comes?
All is touched and swirled by the wind.
Long standing trees sway.
Small grass slivers slide to and fro.
Dust is thrown in the direction of the wind.
A light wood door slams down
After being lifted by the wind.
Am I too light?
Will I be slammed down?
It’s not quiet yet,
But a little lessening.
Calmness returns.
Slight breeze.
Silence almost deafening now.
Long, long roll of thunder-
Closer now.
Is the worst approaching?
One last plunge
Before the deluge?
My questions push me
To the edge of the unknown.
Can I relinquish my fear to the One who made the wind?
Psalms.
“My help comes from the Lord.
Whom shall I fear?”
He’s the Maker of heaven and earth.
That is the wind!
Whom shall I be afraid?
Sunlight on the clouds
Brightening the horizon.
A visual reminder that
Maybe the end is near.
I see this with my eyes
And hear the thunder in the distance.
Do my senses point the way
Or lead me to fear?
I could trust them,
I thought.
Now, I believe they must
Be tamed and guided.
Flash of light.
Quicker than a second.
Are my eyes just more attuned
To watch for them?
Are my senses heightened?
Now – a triple play.
All three combined.
Wind, sound and light.
The sound of sure doom.
I walk to the edge
Of the physical ground.
I venture out slowly.
I had been motionless
Not gripping in fear
But surefooted
In the doorway.
I hear now the air conditioner.
Familiar and predictable.
Reminder of what
I know for certain.
Was it there
In the force of the wind?
I missed it, and was not
In tune with the known.
Other life moves across
The green ocean.
Eating as they go along.
We are returning
To the familiar.
If they go forward
With their life,
Can I use that
As an example
To go forward also?
Just one more question for me.
Yes…
Movement is paramount.
Standing frozen
Stops all life,
Thought,
And action.
I will move inside now.
Away from the breeze
That now blows.
I hear a bird sing
And bugs chatter
In the grass.
The worst has passed if
The creations of God
Sing!
Inside the dwelling-
Security.
This physical example,
A correlation
To the spiritual emotions
I have just been through.
I am held
In the Palm of His Hand.
I am hid in the Shelter of His wing.
I believe this to be real
And can tell myself
To Trust.
The sound of the roll
May be loud outside,
But in here
Is barely audible.
My senses are corralled
Inside the Palm of His wing.
She missed it.
She missed it all.
She slumbered.
The day before
Her anticipated storm.
Her senses dulled.
Confident that she is in
The Palm of His Wing
The wind will blow.
His wing will protect.
Outside sounds, though loud,
The song of love
Focuses her
Far away.
The roll of possible threat
In her distance,
Not in the forefront
Of her mind.
She sees and feels
The cup of the
Palm of His hand.
She knows and
She believes
Tomorrow will
Also be shielded.
“Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them from their distress; He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they had quiet, and He brought them to their desired haven.
How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.”
~ Psalm 107:28-30 (RSV); Psalm 36:7 (NKJV)
Eileen and Kihm on day of Kihm's departure 10 days after my surgery
Kansas sky on country road near our home
This week I’d like to share something Keen’s sister wrote during a thunderstorm that took place the day before my surgery. ~ Eileen
Winds Swirl
By Kihm Umbehr Blount
June 20, 2006
Winds swirl.
Trees bend.
Flowerpots sway
Then are thrown back and forth.
Dark clouds mingle with blue sky.
Then dark overtakes the light.
The sound of the wind is more forceful now.
Is it the leaves or the sound of wind itself?
The trees and leaves look like the waves –
The ocean of the sea in a storm –
green rolling thunderous grass.
One knows not when it will lessen or crescendo.
We who are stationary are at the wind’s mercy.
Until we sway with a blast and are forced backwards
Bending our head into the winds in order to walk forward.
Deep rolling sound in the distance…
Threatening future awaits.
Light enough to write by
Dark enough for a brief shadow.
Will it continue?
Will it stop?
Will it lessen?
Will it crescendo?
Nothing physical yet broken,
No large item yet moved.
It is written – “Jesus slept.”
Slumber of the deepest kind.
Cares…non-existent.
My watchful eye raises every moment –
Anticipating the next forceful upsurge.
I am unaware of where the end will be.
At least the wind is cool
Could even say refreshing.
Yesterday the sun beat down,
Searing flesh when touched to the physical.
This…now… is a welcome reprieve.
A lull now…
What seemed so strong a little before
Now appears managed to me.
THIS wind is familiar
In the short time since it began.
Does my own fear lessen in this midst?
Unthinkable that I could slumber as He!
Fine mist now – the smell of rain
Do I wish for a downpour –
To joy in the sun’s rays at its end?
Doesn’t the wind always get strong
Before the rain comes?
All is touched and swirled by the wind.
Long standing trees sway.
Small grass slivers slide to and fro.
Dust is thrown in the direction of the wind.
A light wood door slams down
After being lifted by the wind.
Am I too light?
Will I be slammed down?
It’s not quiet yet,
But a little lessening.
Calmness returns.
Slight breeze.
Silence almost deafening now.
Long, long roll of thunder-
Closer now.
Is the worst approaching?
One last plunge
Before the deluge?
My questions push me
To the edge of the unknown.
Can I relinquish my fear to the One who made the wind?
Psalms.
“My help comes from the Lord.
Whom shall I fear?”
He’s the Maker of heaven and earth.
That is the wind!
Whom shall I be afraid?
Sunlight on the clouds
Brightening the horizon.
A visual reminder that
Maybe the end is near.
I see this with my eyes
And hear the thunder in the distance.
Do my senses point the way
Or lead me to fear?
I could trust them,
I thought.
Now, I believe they must
Be tamed and guided.
Flash of light.
Quicker than a second.
Are my eyes just more attuned
To watch for them?
Are my senses heightened?
Now – a triple play.
All three combined.
Wind, sound and light.
The sound of sure doom.
I walk to the edge
Of the physical ground.
I venture out slowly.
I had been motionless
Not gripping in fear
But surefooted
In the doorway.
I hear now the air conditioner.
Familiar and predictable.
Reminder of what
I know for certain.
Was it there
In the force of the wind?
I missed it, and was not
In tune with the known.
Other life moves across
The green ocean.
Eating as they go along.
We are returning
To the familiar.
If they go forward
With their life,
Can I use that
As an example
To go forward also?
Just one more question for me.
Yes…
Movement is paramount.
Standing frozen
Stops all life,
Thought,
And action.
I will move inside now.
Away from the breeze
That now blows.
I hear a bird sing
And bugs chatter
In the grass.
The worst has passed if
The creations of God
Sing!
Inside the dwelling-
Security.
This physical example,
A correlation
To the spiritual emotions
I have just been through.
I am held
In the Palm of His Hand.
I am hid in the Shelter of His wing.
I believe this to be real
And can tell myself
To Trust.
The sound of the roll
May be loud outside,
But in here
Is barely audible.
My senses are corralled
Inside the Palm of His wing.
She missed it.
She missed it all.
She slumbered.
The day before
Her anticipated storm.
Her senses dulled.
Confident that she is in
The Palm of His Wing
The wind will blow.
His wing will protect.
Outside sounds, though loud,
The song of love
Focuses her
Far away.
The roll of possible threat
In her distance,
Not in the forefront
Of her mind.
She sees and feels
The cup of the
Palm of His hand.
She knows and
She believes
Tomorrow will
Also be shielded.
“Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them from their distress; He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they had quiet, and He brought them to their desired haven.
How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.”
~ Psalm 107:28-30 (RSV); Psalm 36:7 (NKJV)
Eileen and Kihm on day of Kihm's departure 10 days after my surgery
Kansas sky on country road near our home
Monday, July 03, 2006
Scars and All
“Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people both now and forevermore.”
~Psalms 125:1-2
As I sit down to write this column, it is 2:45 in the morning on Saturday, July 1, 2006. My surgery took place as scheduled ten days ago, and I am happy to report that everything went fine.
During the days leading up to my surgery, I had several emotional meltdowns. The fear and anxiety seemed insurmountable. One night I was crying and I told Keen that I didn’t want to lose my breasts. He replied, “You’re not losing your breasts, you’re gaining your life.”
“No matter what might be happening in your life right now, take a deep breath, relax and let your thoughts be still. Just as darkness gives way to dawn, so does despair create a new beginning. Never allow yourself to forget that it is from the darkest moment of the night that each new sunrise is born.”
Kate Nowak, Live More Abundantly Productions
http://www.mayyoubeblessedmovie.com
One of the ways I believe the good Lord readied me for the big day was to send people across my path to offer just the right words of encouragement, such as several breast cancer survivors who visited with me before my surgery. When my sister-in-law Kihm heard me say that I felt like I was “doing this to myself” since I had other medical options, she reminded me that I wasn’t doing this to myself, I was doing it for myself. Our oldest son Jared called from Iraq to offer his support, and he emphasized how fortunate I was to be taking this step as a preventative measure. My sister Mary recounted something our mother said while sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office during her own battle with cancer. Mary said that Mom pointed out another patient and commented, “She’s lucky – she only has to get a mastectomy.” Although that statement may sound oxymoronic, it really isn’t, because my mom would have done anything to “only” have to get a mastectomy. After hearing that story, I thought to myself: “If Mom were here, she wouldn’t want me to feel sorry for myself because I was losing my breasts; she’d want me to be thankful that was all I was losing.”
"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly." ~Richard Bach, American Author
Monarch and Milkweed ~ Photograph by Patricia Barrett
The night before surgery my sister Peggy called to let me know that she was thinking of me and praying for me. Before she hung up, she said, “Just remember that you have been the person you are for 47 years, and this surgery isn’t going to change that. You are going to be the same person that we love the day after the surgery as you were the day before your surgery.” For some reason, that was a real light bulb moment for me. It also tied in perfectly with something our son, Keen II, shared with me the morning of my surgery when he called to wish me well. He said that recently he’d been contemplating the concept of happiness and he came up with this quote: “Happiness is the ability to maintain a positive attitude despite circumstances that are beyond your control.” The combination of Peggy and Keener’s comments helped me realize that this surgery didn’t have to change me any more than I let it. If I choose to let it depress me, it will. And if I choose not to let it affect how I feel about myself, then it won’t.
“For as he thinks in his heart, so is he...” ~ Proverbs 23:7a (NKJV)
“Your mental attitude will lead you into the light or hold you in darkness. It will lead you to hope or despair, to a glorious success or a miserable failure, and it is entirely within your own power to choose which it shall be."
~ Orison Swett Marden, Early 20th Century Success Writer
With the help of God and all the many angels He sent my way, I finally felt prepared for surgery, and I realized that even the pre-surgery meltdowns were a necessary part of the grieving process.
On June 21st, Kihm drove me to St. Francis Hospital, with Keen and Kirk following right behind. After checking in, I underwent a pre-op procedure where they injected radioactive dye into my left breast in preparation for a sentinel node biopsy. That’s when they remove some lymph nodes from the affected breast in order to test for microscopic cancer cells. If the pathology report indicates lymph node involvement, then further treatment (in the form of chemotherapy and/or radiation) is required to combat the spread of the cancer.
Eventually the moment of truth arrived, and I was wheeled off to the operating room around 4:30 p.m. Although I was scared, I felt very peaceful and confident about my decision, and I was anxious to get the surgery over with.
When I woke up in the recovery room, I was pretty groggy and the room was spinning a little bit. I remember asking if I could talk with Dr. Berntsen. She came to my bedside to tell me that everything went fine and the lymph nodes did not appear to be cancerous. (A few days later the pathology report thankfully confirmed that the lymph nodes were clear and there was no invasive cancer found in any of the breast tissue.)
After they moved me to my room, Keen, Kihm, and Kirk were all waiting for me.
Keen and Kirk Van
The first thing I remember was Keen’s smiling face by my bedside. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You did this for us; for me, for our sons, and for our grandchildren. Thank you.”
I felt such a sense of relief after the surgery was over, that the loss of my breasts almost seemed like a non-issue. I was just so happy that I had come out on the other side, and I only needed minimal medication for the pain. After Keen and Kirk left for home, Kihm and I stayed up talking – or should I say, I stayed up talking, and Kihm listened! Bless her heart, I’m sure that she was exhausted and would have welcomed a good night’s sleep, but instead she sat by my bedside the whole night while I verbally processed all of my thoughts and feelings. Then when I was finally ready to wind down, Kihm read to me from a book I brought along.
Even though I only slept for two hours that night, when I woke up the next morning I still felt pretty good. Then Keen stopped by to see me, and we went for a stroll around the halls of the hospital. When Dr. Berntsen arrived, she said that everything looked fine, and since I was able to walk around then I could be released.
Going Home with flowers from friends Gary & Linda, and Mike & Julie
After returning home, Nurse Kihm did an amazing job of taking care of me. She kept track of my pain meds and basically waited on me hand and foot. Not only did she take care of me, but she took care of Kirk who had to have his wisdom teeth removed two days after my surgery. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without her.
“Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” ~John 15:13 (RSV)
Eileen and Kihm after surgery
The next major milestone came when it was time for me to remove the surgical bandages and observe the scars on my chest for the very first time. I started out by taking little peeks, and worked my way up to the full view. I must admit that it was a sight for sore eyes as parts of my chest looked pretty disfigured. But I just thought, it is what it is, and I reminded myself of all the valid reasons I had for doing this. Besides, I didn’t go in for cosmetic surgery.
After returning home, my next challenge was to show the scars to Keen. When we went for a morning walk, I forewarned him that the scars were ugly. Right away he stopped me and said that I should never refer to them as ugly, because they represented the battle I fought and won. “Your scars are your badges of courage,” he said.
Later on when I hesitatingly revealed my chest to Keen, he looked at me with gentle eyes of admiration and smiled. “Your scars are not ugly,” he replied. “They’re beautiful . . . just beautiful.” Then, he put his hand over his heart and softly said, “It’s an honor to look at your scars.”
As the tears streamed down my face, my heart overflowed with gratitude to God for blessing me with a husband who, like Him, loved and accepted me . . . scars and all.
“Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” ~Proverbs 16:24 (NASB)
~Psalms 125:1-2
As I sit down to write this column, it is 2:45 in the morning on Saturday, July 1, 2006. My surgery took place as scheduled ten days ago, and I am happy to report that everything went fine.
During the days leading up to my surgery, I had several emotional meltdowns. The fear and anxiety seemed insurmountable. One night I was crying and I told Keen that I didn’t want to lose my breasts. He replied, “You’re not losing your breasts, you’re gaining your life.”
“No matter what might be happening in your life right now, take a deep breath, relax and let your thoughts be still. Just as darkness gives way to dawn, so does despair create a new beginning. Never allow yourself to forget that it is from the darkest moment of the night that each new sunrise is born.”
Kate Nowak, Live More Abundantly Productions
http://www.mayyoubeblessedmovie.com
One of the ways I believe the good Lord readied me for the big day was to send people across my path to offer just the right words of encouragement, such as several breast cancer survivors who visited with me before my surgery. When my sister-in-law Kihm heard me say that I felt like I was “doing this to myself” since I had other medical options, she reminded me that I wasn’t doing this to myself, I was doing it for myself. Our oldest son Jared called from Iraq to offer his support, and he emphasized how fortunate I was to be taking this step as a preventative measure. My sister Mary recounted something our mother said while sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office during her own battle with cancer. Mary said that Mom pointed out another patient and commented, “She’s lucky – she only has to get a mastectomy.” Although that statement may sound oxymoronic, it really isn’t, because my mom would have done anything to “only” have to get a mastectomy. After hearing that story, I thought to myself: “If Mom were here, she wouldn’t want me to feel sorry for myself because I was losing my breasts; she’d want me to be thankful that was all I was losing.”
"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly." ~Richard Bach, American Author
Monarch and Milkweed ~ Photograph by Patricia BarrettThe night before surgery my sister Peggy called to let me know that she was thinking of me and praying for me. Before she hung up, she said, “Just remember that you have been the person you are for 47 years, and this surgery isn’t going to change that. You are going to be the same person that we love the day after the surgery as you were the day before your surgery.” For some reason, that was a real light bulb moment for me. It also tied in perfectly with something our son, Keen II, shared with me the morning of my surgery when he called to wish me well. He said that recently he’d been contemplating the concept of happiness and he came up with this quote: “Happiness is the ability to maintain a positive attitude despite circumstances that are beyond your control.” The combination of Peggy and Keener’s comments helped me realize that this surgery didn’t have to change me any more than I let it. If I choose to let it depress me, it will. And if I choose not to let it affect how I feel about myself, then it won’t.
“For as he thinks in his heart, so is he...” ~ Proverbs 23:7a (NKJV)
“Your mental attitude will lead you into the light or hold you in darkness. It will lead you to hope or despair, to a glorious success or a miserable failure, and it is entirely within your own power to choose which it shall be."
~ Orison Swett Marden, Early 20th Century Success Writer
With the help of God and all the many angels He sent my way, I finally felt prepared for surgery, and I realized that even the pre-surgery meltdowns were a necessary part of the grieving process.
On June 21st, Kihm drove me to St. Francis Hospital, with Keen and Kirk following right behind. After checking in, I underwent a pre-op procedure where they injected radioactive dye into my left breast in preparation for a sentinel node biopsy. That’s when they remove some lymph nodes from the affected breast in order to test for microscopic cancer cells. If the pathology report indicates lymph node involvement, then further treatment (in the form of chemotherapy and/or radiation) is required to combat the spread of the cancer.
Eventually the moment of truth arrived, and I was wheeled off to the operating room around 4:30 p.m. Although I was scared, I felt very peaceful and confident about my decision, and I was anxious to get the surgery over with.
When I woke up in the recovery room, I was pretty groggy and the room was spinning a little bit. I remember asking if I could talk with Dr. Berntsen. She came to my bedside to tell me that everything went fine and the lymph nodes did not appear to be cancerous. (A few days later the pathology report thankfully confirmed that the lymph nodes were clear and there was no invasive cancer found in any of the breast tissue.)
After they moved me to my room, Keen, Kihm, and Kirk were all waiting for me.
Keen and Kirk VanThe first thing I remember was Keen’s smiling face by my bedside. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You did this for us; for me, for our sons, and for our grandchildren. Thank you.”
I felt such a sense of relief after the surgery was over, that the loss of my breasts almost seemed like a non-issue. I was just so happy that I had come out on the other side, and I only needed minimal medication for the pain. After Keen and Kirk left for home, Kihm and I stayed up talking – or should I say, I stayed up talking, and Kihm listened! Bless her heart, I’m sure that she was exhausted and would have welcomed a good night’s sleep, but instead she sat by my bedside the whole night while I verbally processed all of my thoughts and feelings. Then when I was finally ready to wind down, Kihm read to me from a book I brought along.
Even though I only slept for two hours that night, when I woke up the next morning I still felt pretty good. Then Keen stopped by to see me, and we went for a stroll around the halls of the hospital. When Dr. Berntsen arrived, she said that everything looked fine, and since I was able to walk around then I could be released.
Going Home with flowers from friends Gary & Linda, and Mike & JulieAfter returning home, Nurse Kihm did an amazing job of taking care of me. She kept track of my pain meds and basically waited on me hand and foot. Not only did she take care of me, but she took care of Kirk who had to have his wisdom teeth removed two days after my surgery. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without her.
“Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” ~John 15:13 (RSV)
Eileen and Kihm after surgeryThe next major milestone came when it was time for me to remove the surgical bandages and observe the scars on my chest for the very first time. I started out by taking little peeks, and worked my way up to the full view. I must admit that it was a sight for sore eyes as parts of my chest looked pretty disfigured. But I just thought, it is what it is, and I reminded myself of all the valid reasons I had for doing this. Besides, I didn’t go in for cosmetic surgery.
After returning home, my next challenge was to show the scars to Keen. When we went for a morning walk, I forewarned him that the scars were ugly. Right away he stopped me and said that I should never refer to them as ugly, because they represented the battle I fought and won. “Your scars are your badges of courage,” he said.
Later on when I hesitatingly revealed my chest to Keen, he looked at me with gentle eyes of admiration and smiled. “Your scars are not ugly,” he replied. “They’re beautiful . . . just beautiful.” Then, he put his hand over his heart and softly said, “It’s an honor to look at your scars.”
As the tears streamed down my face, my heart overflowed with gratitude to God for blessing me with a husband who, like Him, loved and accepted me . . . scars and all.
“Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” ~Proverbs 16:24 (NASB)
Monday, June 19, 2006
Strength for the Journey (Part II)
“Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble and tottering knees. Say to those who are of a fearful and hasty heart, Be strong, fear not! Behold, your God will come . . . He will come and save you.” ~ Isaiah 35:3,4
This week I would like to share the following excerpts from some of the inspiring notes and words of encouragement I have received over the past couple of weeks:
Dear Eileen:
I remember your mother (my dear Aunt Peg) far more than I should. I have no idea why. But I can't help but think that she would she would be telling you today "get off your rear-end young lady and get this over with, your family needs you strong and healthy. They love YOU, not your breasts."
********************
If you are not an inspiration for all of us, I don't know who is. My heart goes out to you with so much going on and so many decisions needing to be made. I so agree with your decision about the mastectomy; with your family history, it would probably have to be done anyway at some point in the future, so why not now when it can be a preventive measure? I know it's such a heartrending decision to make, but it seems your medical team and especially your son and brother all agree it's the most effective option. I know so many people who, like you, dread losing a breast, but breasts are not who we are at all. I think you've made the right decision, and you do have such a warm and caring family to stand by you.
********************
That statement is so true. "You are not your breasts." You will be a different person without them but it will be because of the experience and growing you will be going through. Just the realization and deeper meaning about who you really are will be growth and change. Every day we are different than the day before because we have added a day's experiences. Dramatic experiences sometimes change us at a faster rate, but it is growth in the Lord for one of His children.
********************
Eileen, my dear:
Adulthood brings one precious right:
The right to make your own decisions.
You're exercising that right. Fear not...
Remember: you already have enjoyed many blessings in this life, and the close and loving support of your family in this crisis is in itself a boon denied millions in this world. I've told you before that in my opinion the Lord never gives us a load heavier than we can carry, with His help and that of our loved ones. . . .One further thought: Trust in the power of love, which transcends death and the grave, and in the care of your guardian angel, for 'tis sure you have one.
********************
Eileen,
You are so not just your breasts! You were a great person before you breasts developed, I am sure! You will be a great person without your breasts. You are your heart and soul! That will never changed no matter what the surgery entails.
I will love you just as you are and so will your other friends. Our bodies are like our houses, if people come to see our bodies or our houses instead of us, poor souls are they!
As for your little granddaughter, she will be the love of your life . . . she will adore you with or without breasts, and you will adore her regardless of her mental ability.
Remember, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger – and you see the world through much different eyes.
********************
We don't always (sometimes rarely) understand God's plan but we just have to trust and rely on Him for our strength. And, we are so blessed with loving families and hosts of friends from whom we can also gain strength. It often seems when we think our plates are full, we realize our most important lessons.
May God continue to hold you and your family up as you continue with your treatment and care and may He also continue to hold Josh, Lisa and Katelyn in His loving care.
“Trials are not enemies of faith but are opportunities to prove God's faithfulness.” ~ Author Unknown
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.’” ~ Lamentations 3:21-24
********************
You have been in my prayers and somehow I knew you would make a wise decision. Your faith has carried you this far and it will in the future. Hold on to the rope.
Remember what is most important.
It’s not having everything go right, it’s facing whatever goes wrong.
It's not being without fear; it's having the determination to go on in spite of it.
Remember that every day ends and brings a new tomorrow full of exciting new things.
Love what you do; do the best you can,
and always remember how much you are loved. ~ Vicki Worsham
********************
I Know Not
Author Unknown
I know not what the future holds,
Of good or ill for me and mine;
I only know that God enfolds
Me in His loving arms divine.
So I shall walk the earth in trust
That He who notes the sparrow's fall
Will help me bear whate'er I must
And lend an ear whene'er I call.
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways, My ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.”~ Isaiah 55:8,9
********************
Eileen – Your husband is right—and remarkably astute—when he said the procedure was a bridge, not a plank. And your doctor is right when she said you are not your breasts. You are much more than that, and you have shown us that column by column. More than that, you’ve shown that to me by the encouragement and love you’ve shown me even when I was a stranger. Believe me when I say that I am with you every minute of your journey. I am there holding your hand. You will come through this thing completely intact with all that matters. You will still be Eileen Umbehr, and we will still love you.
**********************
Eileen....Our feeling is how blessed you are that with your FAITH you can turn this whole situation over to the LORD for direction. I feel sure I have mentioned to you before that part of my nightly devotions includes the reading of the following:
“Have no fear for what tomorrow may bring. The same loving God who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. God will either shield you from suffering or give you unfailing strength to bear it. . .”
"When you come to the end of all the light you know, and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen: Either you will be given something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly." Edward Teller
Be at peace then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.
“Do not fret or have any anxiety about anything, but in every circumstance and in everything by prayer and petition (definite requests) with thanksgiving continue to make your wants known to God. And God's peace, which transcends all understanding, shall...mount guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." ~ Philippians 4:6,7
*****************
'Leen....
I got this story [“God’s Cake”]
again today so there's some message for me (obviously)
and I'm sharing it with you :")
I will pray about and for your health.
Know that everyone is....
WE LOVE YOU.
Each of us are given so many blessings as well as
the 'balance' of those positives, too.
Strange to think that way, but it is the combination of both
that make us wiser and more compassionate if we choose to believe that God's hands are holding ours through it all...
I am taken back in time....
My son's face contorts with fear as he readies for the 'stick' of the needle.
His plaintiff cries cause me to break out in a cold sweat because I am anticipating his pain, yet I know it is for his own good.....so I smile and reassure him.
'Steady, now.....there....all done!'
Beads of freshly squeezed tears begin to dry on his smooth, rosy cheeks.
There...you did it!! See? It wasn't too bad was it?
“But who are you, a man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me thus?’” ~ Romans 9:20
God’s Cake
(Author Unknown)
Sometimes we wonder, "What did I do to deserve this?" or "Why did God have to do this to me?" Here is a wonderful illustration.
A daughter is telling her Mother how everything is going wrong: she's failing algebra, her boyfriend broke up with her and her best friend is moving away.
Meanwhile, her Mother is baking a cake and asks her daughter if she would like a snack. The daughter replies, "Absolutely Mom, I love your cake."
"Here, have some cooking oil," her Mother offers.
"Yuck" says her daughter.
"How about a couple raw eggs?"
"Gross, Mom!"
"Would you like some flour then? Or maybe baking soda?"
"Mom, those are all yucky!"
To which the mother replies: "Yes, all those things seem bad all by themselves. But when they are put together in the right way, they make a wonderfully delicious cake!
God works the same way. Many times we wonder why He would let us go through such bad and difficult times. But God knows that when He puts these things all in His order, they always work for good! We just have to trust Him and, eventually, they will all make something wonderful!
“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” ~Romans 8:28 (NKJV)
Eileen by campfire
Strength for the Journey (Part I)
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” ~ Isaiah 40:31 (KJV)
As I prepare for my surgery this Wednesday, June 21st, I am overcome with gratitude to everyone who has sent a card or called to let me know that they have been praying for me. I have received unexpected, but welcome hugs from so many people who sincerely hope and pray that the surgery will go smoothly and my recovery will be swift. Even some of Keen’s colleagues and clients have added me to their prayer list! Best of all, I have made new friends in breast cancer survivors who were willing to share their personal experience with me. All of these things, along with my faith in God, have been a great source of encouragement.
"Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. . .” Psalms 55:22
I also owe a special debt of gratitude to Keen’s sister Kihm who is coming to help me before, during, and after my surgery. This is an excerpt from the “real letter” Kihm sent me (as opposed to an email):
“Should you decide on surgery, I would like to offer my time to you. Basically, I work when I want to, and not working for an extended period of time is no problem. Help at home after you return from the hospital is essential! Please take an offer from someone or two or three for about 4-5 weeks after surgery. You will be so glad you did. I am available at your disposal. Whether you need or want me or not, know that I am upholding you vigilantly and constantly in prayer. Love always, Kihm.”
“A man has joy in making an apt answer, and a word spoken at the right moment, how good it is!” ~ Proverbs 15:23
Kihm’s handwritten note made me realize that she was truly sincere about wanting to help. After I told her that I would gratefully accept, she responded by saying that she was humbled and honored. Of course I told her that it was the other way around! I am the one who is humbled and honored that she would make such a huge sacrifice for me. And since she is a registered nurse, I feel especially blessed to be in such capable hands. God has truly provided for all my needs through friends and family members like Kihm.
This has been a difficult week for me. As the date for surgery draws near, the realization of what is going to happen has really started to sink in. The spouse of one breast cancer patient put it this way: “[The fight] takes you up, down, under, and around the full spectrum of physical, emotional, and mental dimensions.” (From the resource book “Show Me”, published by Penn State Medical Center) Last week Keen and I met with a woman who had a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction, and she was very straightforward about what is involved. The process of reconstruction is somewhat lengthy – about five months – and pretty uncomfortable. For most people, it is well worth the pain and trouble, but for me right now it feels like more than I’m prepared to handle, so I’ve decided to delay reconstruction at this time. I would like some time to heal from the emotional and physical aspects of the bilateral mastectomy first, then I can decide whether I want to go with a prosthesis (that fits inside a bra with a pocket in it), or whether I will opt for reconstruction surgery at a later date. Either way, they won’t be my real breasts,so it may not make a whole lot of difference.
In the meantime, I’ve been trying to picture myself without breasts so it won’t be such a shock – but it’s not easy. It’s kind of like trying to prepare for childbirth when you’ve never actually gone through it. But Keen has been unbelievably supportive throughout the entire, difficult process. He writes me encouraging notes to tell me how proud he is of the way I’m handling everything. The other day he taped one note to the bathroom mirror, and another note to the steering wheel of my car. It read: “I love you, Eileen Umbehr. You are the love of my life. Your beauty and grace give me the strength and courage to attack and defeat the dragons in our lives. Love, KAU.” After we made the decision to delay reconstruction, he sent me an email that read: “Embrace your freedom! You’ve earned it!” The other night we were talking in the hammock and I asked him if it was going to bother him to see me without breasts. “Not at all,” he replied, without skipping a beat. “Then I can hold on tighter.” Of course that brought tears to my eyes.. “Where do you come up with this stuff?” I asked. “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,” he answered. “I love you – the person on the inside. It’s what’s behind the breast that’s precious.” Keen said he believes that we’ll be closer than ever after this experience. That’s why I’m doing this – so that hopefully we can enjoy our love and life together for many, many more years to come.
“If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell.” ~Lance Armstrong
In closing, I’d like to share some more words of encouragement from “my old pal, Scott.” Once again, his thoughts are too good not to share. God bless you, Scott.
Dear Friend,
It seems like you are under a dark cloud these days--so many unexpected turns in the road. It must be nice to be someplace like Alma where you can get outside by yourself and scream your head off to release some tension. I'm a big believer in "scream therapy"!
It's interesting to me that you used the example of leg amputation to make your point to Keen. I have a co-worker whose husband was a hardcore biker before he became a Christian, and now he attends biker rallies around the country ministering to bike gang members. He and his wife are welcomed by some of the most dangerous groups in the country because they trust and respect him, and that enables him to preach the Gospel where no one else could. Recently, due to complications of diabetes, he had to have part of a leg amputated which made riding his motorcycle difficult. Friends pitched in to finance alterations (essentially, training wheels were installed) to his bike so that he would be able to continue to ride, and continue he did. His preaching became all the more effective and powerful due to his physical challenges. Since that time, he's lost part of the other leg, but his bike is outfitted with hand controls and he is still on the road preaching to his flock. As you said, "...we are not our breasts...," we are not our arms and legs either. It's all too natural that we identify with those things we can see and touch and feel, but we are much more than those things. What is the scripture that speaks of all the fullness of God being poured into these "weak earthen vessels"? Whatever happens to our bodies in this life, we live on as long as we can still contain the essence that God has poured into us, and life ends only when the vessel breaks and that which was poured into it is set free from containment. You, my friend, are a vessel that holds so much of God's greatness. The vessel may chip here and there, the handles may come off, but what you were fashioned to be--a vessel--remains, and we are all blessed because of you.
Eileen, you are facing some difficult days. Lean on your family and friends; let them be close to you. Sometimes we just want to crawl off by ourselves and isolate, but that accomplishes nothing but rejection of those people best equipped to lighten your load. Hold tight to them, and remember Keen's words: this is not a plank, it's a bridge.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you . . .I have called you by your name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned or scorched, nor shall the flame kindle upon you. For I am the Lord your God." ~Isaiah 43:1b-3a
Kihm Umbehr Blount
As I prepare for my surgery this Wednesday, June 21st, I am overcome with gratitude to everyone who has sent a card or called to let me know that they have been praying for me. I have received unexpected, but welcome hugs from so many people who sincerely hope and pray that the surgery will go smoothly and my recovery will be swift. Even some of Keen’s colleagues and clients have added me to their prayer list! Best of all, I have made new friends in breast cancer survivors who were willing to share their personal experience with me. All of these things, along with my faith in God, have been a great source of encouragement.
"Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. . .” Psalms 55:22
I also owe a special debt of gratitude to Keen’s sister Kihm who is coming to help me before, during, and after my surgery. This is an excerpt from the “real letter” Kihm sent me (as opposed to an email):
“Should you decide on surgery, I would like to offer my time to you. Basically, I work when I want to, and not working for an extended period of time is no problem. Help at home after you return from the hospital is essential! Please take an offer from someone or two or three for about 4-5 weeks after surgery. You will be so glad you did. I am available at your disposal. Whether you need or want me or not, know that I am upholding you vigilantly and constantly in prayer. Love always, Kihm.”
“A man has joy in making an apt answer, and a word spoken at the right moment, how good it is!” ~ Proverbs 15:23
Kihm’s handwritten note made me realize that she was truly sincere about wanting to help. After I told her that I would gratefully accept, she responded by saying that she was humbled and honored. Of course I told her that it was the other way around! I am the one who is humbled and honored that she would make such a huge sacrifice for me. And since she is a registered nurse, I feel especially blessed to be in such capable hands. God has truly provided for all my needs through friends and family members like Kihm.
This has been a difficult week for me. As the date for surgery draws near, the realization of what is going to happen has really started to sink in. The spouse of one breast cancer patient put it this way: “[The fight] takes you up, down, under, and around the full spectrum of physical, emotional, and mental dimensions.” (From the resource book “Show Me”, published by Penn State Medical Center) Last week Keen and I met with a woman who had a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction, and she was very straightforward about what is involved. The process of reconstruction is somewhat lengthy – about five months – and pretty uncomfortable. For most people, it is well worth the pain and trouble, but for me right now it feels like more than I’m prepared to handle, so I’ve decided to delay reconstruction at this time. I would like some time to heal from the emotional and physical aspects of the bilateral mastectomy first, then I can decide whether I want to go with a prosthesis (that fits inside a bra with a pocket in it), or whether I will opt for reconstruction surgery at a later date. Either way, they won’t be my real breasts,so it may not make a whole lot of difference.
In the meantime, I’ve been trying to picture myself without breasts so it won’t be such a shock – but it’s not easy. It’s kind of like trying to prepare for childbirth when you’ve never actually gone through it. But Keen has been unbelievably supportive throughout the entire, difficult process. He writes me encouraging notes to tell me how proud he is of the way I’m handling everything. The other day he taped one note to the bathroom mirror, and another note to the steering wheel of my car. It read: “I love you, Eileen Umbehr. You are the love of my life. Your beauty and grace give me the strength and courage to attack and defeat the dragons in our lives. Love, KAU.” After we made the decision to delay reconstruction, he sent me an email that read: “Embrace your freedom! You’ve earned it!” The other night we were talking in the hammock and I asked him if it was going to bother him to see me without breasts. “Not at all,” he replied, without skipping a beat. “Then I can hold on tighter.” Of course that brought tears to my eyes.. “Where do you come up with this stuff?” I asked. “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,” he answered. “I love you – the person on the inside. It’s what’s behind the breast that’s precious.” Keen said he believes that we’ll be closer than ever after this experience. That’s why I’m doing this – so that hopefully we can enjoy our love and life together for many, many more years to come.
“If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell.” ~Lance Armstrong
In closing, I’d like to share some more words of encouragement from “my old pal, Scott.” Once again, his thoughts are too good not to share. God bless you, Scott.
Dear Friend,
It seems like you are under a dark cloud these days--so many unexpected turns in the road. It must be nice to be someplace like Alma where you can get outside by yourself and scream your head off to release some tension. I'm a big believer in "scream therapy"!
It's interesting to me that you used the example of leg amputation to make your point to Keen. I have a co-worker whose husband was a hardcore biker before he became a Christian, and now he attends biker rallies around the country ministering to bike gang members. He and his wife are welcomed by some of the most dangerous groups in the country because they trust and respect him, and that enables him to preach the Gospel where no one else could. Recently, due to complications of diabetes, he had to have part of a leg amputated which made riding his motorcycle difficult. Friends pitched in to finance alterations (essentially, training wheels were installed) to his bike so that he would be able to continue to ride, and continue he did. His preaching became all the more effective and powerful due to his physical challenges. Since that time, he's lost part of the other leg, but his bike is outfitted with hand controls and he is still on the road preaching to his flock. As you said, "...we are not our breasts...," we are not our arms and legs either. It's all too natural that we identify with those things we can see and touch and feel, but we are much more than those things. What is the scripture that speaks of all the fullness of God being poured into these "weak earthen vessels"? Whatever happens to our bodies in this life, we live on as long as we can still contain the essence that God has poured into us, and life ends only when the vessel breaks and that which was poured into it is set free from containment. You, my friend, are a vessel that holds so much of God's greatness. The vessel may chip here and there, the handles may come off, but what you were fashioned to be--a vessel--remains, and we are all blessed because of you.
Eileen, you are facing some difficult days. Lean on your family and friends; let them be close to you. Sometimes we just want to crawl off by ourselves and isolate, but that accomplishes nothing but rejection of those people best equipped to lighten your load. Hold tight to them, and remember Keen's words: this is not a plank, it's a bridge.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you . . .I have called you by your name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned or scorched, nor shall the flame kindle upon you. For I am the Lord your God." ~Isaiah 43:1b-3a
Kihm Umbehr Blount
Monday, June 12, 2006
Facing Reality
“Besides this you know what a critical hour this is, how it is high time for you to wake up out of your sleep – rouse to reality.”
~ Romans 13:11
Before I begin my article this week, I would like to thank everyone who takes the time to read my stories in The Prairie Post. In the good times and the bad times of my life, this column has been such a therapeutic outlet for me. And a big thanks to Joann Kahnt for making it all possible.
First of all, I want to share our latest baby news! On June 7th at 5:37 p.m., our son Josh and his wife Lisa had a beautiful 8 pound baby girl named Katelyn Seraphina. We feel so blessed to have two grandsons and two granddaughters. As Asher told his Mommy, “Now it’s equal!”
I had the privilege of being in the delivery room (along with Lisa’s mom) when Katelyn was born. Lisa did an amazing job going through eleven hours of labor – all natural! Shortly after Katelyn’s birth, however, we knew that there were problems, and the doctors and nurses asked the grandparents to leave the room. After waiting in the hallway for what seemed like an eternity, Josh came to get us. We soon learned that our new little granddaughter has Down Syndrome. Of course it came as quite a shock to everyone, and there have been many tears shed, but with God’s amazing grace we have accepted the news and are anxious to surround little Katelyn with all the love and nurturing she will need to thrive in this life and reach her highest potential. We fully expect that this one special little girl will add a new dimension to our lives and bring us unimaginable joy. In fact, she already has. Grandpa Keen thinks that she will surprise us all. “We’re going to be an audience to a miracle,” he said.
Mommy Lisa and Baby Katelyn
Daddy Josh and Katelyn Seraphina
It goes without saying that I’ll be writing more about little Katelyn in future columns, but for now I’ll continue where I left off last week when Josh had finally convinced me of the need to have the reexcision done after the lumpectomy. Yes, it was time to face reality, but I still felt terrible about the idea of having to go through surgery all over again. It just seemed like I was in a hole and I was never going to work my way out. So that night while I was lying in bed, I began mulling everything over in my mind. As I reflected on what I went through last year (mammogram, magnification views, biopsy), and what I have gone through this year (mammogram, magnification views, biopsy, wire localization, lumpectomy – to be followed by reexcision and seven weeks of radiation), combined with what I’ll have to go through in future years (all of the above, plus yearly MRI’s, just to keep close surveillance on the situation), I began wondering whether I should consider getting the bilateral mastectomy done after all – even though I didn’t test positive for the abnormal gene. With four out of seven women in my family with breast cancer, there still seems to be something genetic going on. (Dr. Einspahr explained that there are some cancer-causing genes which haven’t been identified yet.)
After considering the pros and cons of a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy, I decided to get up and make a list. The results were extremely persuasive. On the pro side were things like: no need for further mammograms, magnification views, biopsies or lumpectomies, and no need for future radiation or chemotherapy. But the most compelling benefit would be that I can reduce my risk of developing an invasive cancer by 90-95%. In my mother’s case, she had a mastectomy, but it was too late. Although I realize that there are no guarantees in life and I may still have to undergo some measure of monitoring, since the type of cancer I have did not spread, I just feel like I’m in a unique position to obtain the maximum benefit from a bilateral mastectomy by attempting to prevent something invasive before it has a chance to get a foothold.
After I finished compiling my list, I began paging through a resource book titled “Show Me” (published by Penn State Hershey Medical Center). The book contains pictures and personal stories of women who have undergone various breast surgeries followed by breast reconstruction. One of the stories was about a woman who started out with the same thing I have, DCIS. They performed a lumpectomy, but they didn’t achieve clear margins. (Apparently this is quite common with DCIS since it is too small to be seen.) So she had the reexcision done and hoped that would be the end of it. But they still didn’t get clear margins. In fact, that time they found an invasive cancer, so she opted for a mastectomy. Her story really made me think.
The next day Keen and I went on a long walk and I told him what I was thinking. Even though he’s never wanted me to have to go through such a drastic procedure, he heard me out and could understand my point of view. I told him that it would be like having gangrene in your leg. Yes, you may have to lose your leg – and nobody wants to go through that – but the realization that it will ultimately save your life greatly diminishes the emotional impact of the ordeal. I also explained that I didn’t want to have my life hijacked and disrupted every year about this time. The stress, anxiety, and pain I will have to go through year after year (not to mention the time and expense), just to monitor the situation, is too much. In my mind, a double mastectomy provides a long- term solution, as opposed to a short-term solution that only gets me through this year.
Later that day we had a family meeting to discuss my change of heart. Josh, Keen II, and Kirk all understood my reasoning process and agreed with it. (My daughters-in-law, Erin and Lisa, our parents and siblings have been incredibly supportive, too. And Jared even called from overseas to offer his support.) Basically, if I am comfortable with my decision, then my family will support anything I want to do – especially if it will reduce my risk of developing something invasive in the future. I told them that I don’t want to spend my life putting out little fires and hoping that an ember didn’t get missed. I would rather fight one big war than multiple little battles, especially when my chances of success are greater. As Keener pointed out, the seven weeks I would have spent driving back and forth for my daily radiation treatments, I could be spending in recovery.
I have spent a great deal of time researching this issue from every angle and I have spoken with several women who already had this procedure done. In addition, I’ve consulted with a nurse oncologist at Mercy Hospital and several doctors including Dr. Bernita Berntsen, Dr.David Einspahr, Dr. Diana Katt, and my brother, Joe – and they all agreed that a prophylactic mastectomy is a reasonable approach for women like me who are at a higher risk of developing breast cancer. In fact, my brother said that I’m a prime candidate for the procedure, due to the fact that I have already had a form of cancer myself, and I have a strong family history. Apparently, our insurance company recognizes the benefit in prophylactic mastectomies, too, because they informed me that they will pay for the procedure if I have two or more immediate relatives (i.e. mother, sister) who have had unilateral breast cancer. (I have three; four including myself.)
That’s not to say that I haven’t experienced any fear or trepidation about all of this – especially now that they have scheduled a date for my surgery – June 21. I told Keen it feels like I’m walking a plank, and he replied, “It’s not a plank, it’s a bridge.” Even though I have other options, those options only get me through this episode, and I just don’t feel like I can go through all of this year after year. It would destroy my spirit. I don’t like any part of this. I am not a good patient. I hate all the procedures and the anxiety that accompanies them. I don’t like sitting in hospital waiting rooms waiting for the beeper to go off. I do not like it, Sam I Am. I want to live! I have a husband, children, and grandchildren to love; people to help and books to write.
Although I feel comfortable with my decision, there is one obvious aspect that is particularly difficult – losing my breasts. I came into the world with these breasts. I nursed four babies from these breasts. I’d kind of like to keep them. Recently I had a dream/ nightmare where I was introducing myself to someone and I felt like I should announce: “Hi, my name is Eileen. These aren’t my real breasts.” There’s a part of me that wonders if I will still be a real woman if I don’t have real breasts. Dr. Berntsen put it simply this way: “We are not our breasts.” I will be the same Eileen Umbehr I have always been on the inside.
“The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." ~ 1 Samuel 16:7b
And the heart of a person is the important part anyway.
“Do not let your adornment be merely outward--arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel-- rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.”
~ I Peter 3:2-4 (NKJV)
My friend Scott shared an inspiring story about his own mother who made the same decision 20 years ago, and she hasn’t had a recurrence since. He wrote:
You are so very much in my heart and in my prayers--all of you. So much is going on in your world with the decisions you face, your sister’s announcement, the arrival of Emma Eileen, and the upcoming arrival of the new baby. I've known you a long time and one thing I've always been certain of, even when we were scrawny, green little pups at SAS, is that you are a wise woman. You are able to look at all sides of an issue--no matter how unpleasant--and wrestle with it however long it takes until you come to the conclusion that is the wisest and godliest one available to you. Whatever you decide will be the best for everyone concerned--I truly believe that. As your family surrounds you with their loving arms and prayers, know that your old pal Scott is in the circle too.”
“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him.” ~Psalm 62:5
Lisa and Eileen ~ Two weeks before Katelyn's birth
~ Romans 13:11
Before I begin my article this week, I would like to thank everyone who takes the time to read my stories in The Prairie Post. In the good times and the bad times of my life, this column has been such a therapeutic outlet for me. And a big thanks to Joann Kahnt for making it all possible.
First of all, I want to share our latest baby news! On June 7th at 5:37 p.m., our son Josh and his wife Lisa had a beautiful 8 pound baby girl named Katelyn Seraphina. We feel so blessed to have two grandsons and two granddaughters. As Asher told his Mommy, “Now it’s equal!”
I had the privilege of being in the delivery room (along with Lisa’s mom) when Katelyn was born. Lisa did an amazing job going through eleven hours of labor – all natural! Shortly after Katelyn’s birth, however, we knew that there were problems, and the doctors and nurses asked the grandparents to leave the room. After waiting in the hallway for what seemed like an eternity, Josh came to get us. We soon learned that our new little granddaughter has Down Syndrome. Of course it came as quite a shock to everyone, and there have been many tears shed, but with God’s amazing grace we have accepted the news and are anxious to surround little Katelyn with all the love and nurturing she will need to thrive in this life and reach her highest potential. We fully expect that this one special little girl will add a new dimension to our lives and bring us unimaginable joy. In fact, she already has. Grandpa Keen thinks that she will surprise us all. “We’re going to be an audience to a miracle,” he said.
Mommy Lisa and Baby Katelyn
Daddy Josh and Katelyn SeraphinaIt goes without saying that I’ll be writing more about little Katelyn in future columns, but for now I’ll continue where I left off last week when Josh had finally convinced me of the need to have the reexcision done after the lumpectomy. Yes, it was time to face reality, but I still felt terrible about the idea of having to go through surgery all over again. It just seemed like I was in a hole and I was never going to work my way out. So that night while I was lying in bed, I began mulling everything over in my mind. As I reflected on what I went through last year (mammogram, magnification views, biopsy), and what I have gone through this year (mammogram, magnification views, biopsy, wire localization, lumpectomy – to be followed by reexcision and seven weeks of radiation), combined with what I’ll have to go through in future years (all of the above, plus yearly MRI’s, just to keep close surveillance on the situation), I began wondering whether I should consider getting the bilateral mastectomy done after all – even though I didn’t test positive for the abnormal gene. With four out of seven women in my family with breast cancer, there still seems to be something genetic going on. (Dr. Einspahr explained that there are some cancer-causing genes which haven’t been identified yet.)
After considering the pros and cons of a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy, I decided to get up and make a list. The results were extremely persuasive. On the pro side were things like: no need for further mammograms, magnification views, biopsies or lumpectomies, and no need for future radiation or chemotherapy. But the most compelling benefit would be that I can reduce my risk of developing an invasive cancer by 90-95%. In my mother’s case, she had a mastectomy, but it was too late. Although I realize that there are no guarantees in life and I may still have to undergo some measure of monitoring, since the type of cancer I have did not spread, I just feel like I’m in a unique position to obtain the maximum benefit from a bilateral mastectomy by attempting to prevent something invasive before it has a chance to get a foothold.
After I finished compiling my list, I began paging through a resource book titled “Show Me” (published by Penn State Hershey Medical Center). The book contains pictures and personal stories of women who have undergone various breast surgeries followed by breast reconstruction. One of the stories was about a woman who started out with the same thing I have, DCIS. They performed a lumpectomy, but they didn’t achieve clear margins. (Apparently this is quite common with DCIS since it is too small to be seen.) So she had the reexcision done and hoped that would be the end of it. But they still didn’t get clear margins. In fact, that time they found an invasive cancer, so she opted for a mastectomy. Her story really made me think.
The next day Keen and I went on a long walk and I told him what I was thinking. Even though he’s never wanted me to have to go through such a drastic procedure, he heard me out and could understand my point of view. I told him that it would be like having gangrene in your leg. Yes, you may have to lose your leg – and nobody wants to go through that – but the realization that it will ultimately save your life greatly diminishes the emotional impact of the ordeal. I also explained that I didn’t want to have my life hijacked and disrupted every year about this time. The stress, anxiety, and pain I will have to go through year after year (not to mention the time and expense), just to monitor the situation, is too much. In my mind, a double mastectomy provides a long- term solution, as opposed to a short-term solution that only gets me through this year.
Later that day we had a family meeting to discuss my change of heart. Josh, Keen II, and Kirk all understood my reasoning process and agreed with it. (My daughters-in-law, Erin and Lisa, our parents and siblings have been incredibly supportive, too. And Jared even called from overseas to offer his support.) Basically, if I am comfortable with my decision, then my family will support anything I want to do – especially if it will reduce my risk of developing something invasive in the future. I told them that I don’t want to spend my life putting out little fires and hoping that an ember didn’t get missed. I would rather fight one big war than multiple little battles, especially when my chances of success are greater. As Keener pointed out, the seven weeks I would have spent driving back and forth for my daily radiation treatments, I could be spending in recovery.
I have spent a great deal of time researching this issue from every angle and I have spoken with several women who already had this procedure done. In addition, I’ve consulted with a nurse oncologist at Mercy Hospital and several doctors including Dr. Bernita Berntsen, Dr.David Einspahr, Dr. Diana Katt, and my brother, Joe – and they all agreed that a prophylactic mastectomy is a reasonable approach for women like me who are at a higher risk of developing breast cancer. In fact, my brother said that I’m a prime candidate for the procedure, due to the fact that I have already had a form of cancer myself, and I have a strong family history. Apparently, our insurance company recognizes the benefit in prophylactic mastectomies, too, because they informed me that they will pay for the procedure if I have two or more immediate relatives (i.e. mother, sister) who have had unilateral breast cancer. (I have three; four including myself.)
That’s not to say that I haven’t experienced any fear or trepidation about all of this – especially now that they have scheduled a date for my surgery – June 21. I told Keen it feels like I’m walking a plank, and he replied, “It’s not a plank, it’s a bridge.” Even though I have other options, those options only get me through this episode, and I just don’t feel like I can go through all of this year after year. It would destroy my spirit. I don’t like any part of this. I am not a good patient. I hate all the procedures and the anxiety that accompanies them. I don’t like sitting in hospital waiting rooms waiting for the beeper to go off. I do not like it, Sam I Am. I want to live! I have a husband, children, and grandchildren to love; people to help and books to write.
Although I feel comfortable with my decision, there is one obvious aspect that is particularly difficult – losing my breasts. I came into the world with these breasts. I nursed four babies from these breasts. I’d kind of like to keep them. Recently I had a dream/ nightmare where I was introducing myself to someone and I felt like I should announce: “Hi, my name is Eileen. These aren’t my real breasts.” There’s a part of me that wonders if I will still be a real woman if I don’t have real breasts. Dr. Berntsen put it simply this way: “We are not our breasts.” I will be the same Eileen Umbehr I have always been on the inside.
“The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." ~ 1 Samuel 16:7b
And the heart of a person is the important part anyway.
“Do not let your adornment be merely outward--arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel-- rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.”
~ I Peter 3:2-4 (NKJV)
My friend Scott shared an inspiring story about his own mother who made the same decision 20 years ago, and she hasn’t had a recurrence since. He wrote:
You are so very much in my heart and in my prayers--all of you. So much is going on in your world with the decisions you face, your sister’s announcement, the arrival of Emma Eileen, and the upcoming arrival of the new baby. I've known you a long time and one thing I've always been certain of, even when we were scrawny, green little pups at SAS, is that you are a wise woman. You are able to look at all sides of an issue--no matter how unpleasant--and wrestle with it however long it takes until you come to the conclusion that is the wisest and godliest one available to you. Whatever you decide will be the best for everyone concerned--I truly believe that. As your family surrounds you with their loving arms and prayers, know that your old pal Scott is in the circle too.”
“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him.” ~Psalm 62:5
Lisa and Eileen ~ Two weeks before Katelyn's birth
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
That Was Then
"You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away. And your life will be brighter than the noonday; its darkness will be like the morning. And you will have confidence, because there is hope." ~ Job 11:16-18 (RSVB)
In my last update, I shared the good news about our first little granddaughter being born. Emma Eileen is two weeks old now and is doing great. She spent the first week in the hospital while they helped her with some breathing issues, regulated her temperature, and treated her for some jaundice. But she is back home now with her Mom Erin, big brothers, Asher and Gabe (who just adore her), her maternal grandparents (Papa John and Nanny Lu), Aunts Misty and Michelle and lots of cousins and other relatives who love her very much. Unfortunately, Jared is still stationed overseas so he has had to settle for pictures of his new little daughter. Now we are anxiously awaiting the birth of our next grandchild, as Josh and Lisa’s baby is due on June 14th!
Also included in my last update was information about my lumpectomy surgery scheduled for May 24th. As you can see from the following e-mail I sent to family and friends, everything went fairly well:
Hi All -
Just a note to let everyone know that the lumpectomy procedure went well yesterday and I am doing fine. I had one short spell (I think they called it a "vagal response”) where I became lightheaded and felt hot and my heart rate dropped to 38. On the way home, I was nauseated and vomiting, but the doctor prescribed some medication and I was able to eat a regular meal later in the day. I slept well last night and feel only minimal pain this morning. I'll see the doctor again next Friday to find out when we will start radiation. It usually starts four weeks after surgery.
Thanks to everyone for all the prayers! God's grace definitely saw me through.
Love to all, Eileen
Well . . . that was then . . . .
Two days later I contacted the surgeon’s office to see if the pathology report had arrived yet. A couple of hours later Dr. Berntsen called to deliver some “good news and bad news.” The good news was that they did not find any invasive cancer cells – they only discovered additional DCIS cells, which was what they had expected. The bad news was that they did not get a large enough margin around the involved area. All the margins were clear, but in two out of the three they only got 1 ml. instead of the standard 2 ml. Dr. Berntsen explained that the remedy for this problem was to “simply” go back in to get the additional tissue (also known as a re-excision). The last thing I wanted to do was to go back under the knife again! I asked her if there were any other options available and she replied that the 2 ml. margin was the “gold standard.” However, she did agree to consider the possibility of letting the radiation pick up any cells that might have been left behind. Of course, that was music to my ears.
But that was then . . . .
The very next day I received a call from one of my sisters. After we talked about my surgery, she said, “Do you remember how I told you that I was with you, sister? Well, I meant that in more ways than one.” Then she asked, “Are you sitting down?” She told me that three weeks earlier she was diagnosed with another form of breast cancer known as Invasive Lobular Carcinoma (ILC). It is a form of cancer that is difficult to identify on a mammogram. Consequently, it went undetected for at least a year, resulting in the development of one very large tumor and another smaller one. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It seemed surreal to learn that this dreaded disease had attacked yet another member of our family. But my sister is a woman of faith, and she is drawing strength and comfort from the knowledge that God is sovereign and He loves her.
“'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. '” ~ Jeremiah 29:11 (NASB)
Although I realized that my sister’s history was now my history and that her diagnosis had implications for me as well, it still didn’t change my mind about not doing the re-excision.
But that was then . . . .
That evening I received another telephone call; this time it was from our son, Josh, who is a 3rd year medical student at KU. Josh was inquiring about what decision I had made regarding the second surgery. I told him that I didn’t want to do it because I was looking at a three inch gash in my breast and the thought of having it cut back open again did not appeal to me in the least. I also explained that I felt comfortable with the 1 mm margin because the margin was clear and it was 50% of what they wanted to get. In my way of thinking, since the tissue closest to the involved area was clear, then chances are the tissue on the other side of it would be clear, too. Besides, DCIS is considered Stage 0 or pre-cancer. At that point in the conversation, Josh proceeded to give me an old fashioned “butt-chewing.” (The kind I used to give him when he left his wet towels on the floor.) He said, “You’re lying to yourself, Mom. You’re lying to yourself.” He said he just emailed me some information which showed that statistically the number one risk factor for recurrence was the failure to achieve a full 2 mm. margin, and anything less than that was “sub-par care.” By then I was crying because I just did not want to have to undergo another surgery. But Josh was unaffected. “Your tears mean nothing to me right now, Mom. I’ll hold your hand and cry with you later if you want me to, and there are medications they can give you to help ease your anxiety. But to allow those fears to keep you from making the right decision is just plain foolish!” He said that statistically 1 in 7 women will get breast cancer, but we have 4 women out of 7 who have developed it in our family. “That’s huge, Mom,” Josh exclaimed. “This is serious. It’s nothing to mess around with!” Finally I agreed to “think about it.” Josh replied, “Then I’ve failed. I’ve failed.” He simply would not take no for an answer. By the end of the conversation I was convinced. “I’ll probably do it,” I said through my tears.
Josh’s voice immediately softened. “Okay, Mom. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Josh.”
To be continued . . . .
Josh & me on his 25th birthday, April 15, 2006
In my last update, I shared the good news about our first little granddaughter being born. Emma Eileen is two weeks old now and is doing great. She spent the first week in the hospital while they helped her with some breathing issues, regulated her temperature, and treated her for some jaundice. But she is back home now with her Mom Erin, big brothers, Asher and Gabe (who just adore her), her maternal grandparents (Papa John and Nanny Lu), Aunts Misty and Michelle and lots of cousins and other relatives who love her very much. Unfortunately, Jared is still stationed overseas so he has had to settle for pictures of his new little daughter. Now we are anxiously awaiting the birth of our next grandchild, as Josh and Lisa’s baby is due on June 14th!
Also included in my last update was information about my lumpectomy surgery scheduled for May 24th. As you can see from the following e-mail I sent to family and friends, everything went fairly well:
Hi All -
Just a note to let everyone know that the lumpectomy procedure went well yesterday and I am doing fine. I had one short spell (I think they called it a "vagal response”) where I became lightheaded and felt hot and my heart rate dropped to 38. On the way home, I was nauseated and vomiting, but the doctor prescribed some medication and I was able to eat a regular meal later in the day. I slept well last night and feel only minimal pain this morning. I'll see the doctor again next Friday to find out when we will start radiation. It usually starts four weeks after surgery.
Thanks to everyone for all the prayers! God's grace definitely saw me through.
Love to all, Eileen
Well . . . that was then . . . .
Two days later I contacted the surgeon’s office to see if the pathology report had arrived yet. A couple of hours later Dr. Berntsen called to deliver some “good news and bad news.” The good news was that they did not find any invasive cancer cells – they only discovered additional DCIS cells, which was what they had expected. The bad news was that they did not get a large enough margin around the involved area. All the margins were clear, but in two out of the three they only got 1 ml. instead of the standard 2 ml. Dr. Berntsen explained that the remedy for this problem was to “simply” go back in to get the additional tissue (also known as a re-excision). The last thing I wanted to do was to go back under the knife again! I asked her if there were any other options available and she replied that the 2 ml. margin was the “gold standard.” However, she did agree to consider the possibility of letting the radiation pick up any cells that might have been left behind. Of course, that was music to my ears.
But that was then . . . .
The very next day I received a call from one of my sisters. After we talked about my surgery, she said, “Do you remember how I told you that I was with you, sister? Well, I meant that in more ways than one.” Then she asked, “Are you sitting down?” She told me that three weeks earlier she was diagnosed with another form of breast cancer known as Invasive Lobular Carcinoma (ILC). It is a form of cancer that is difficult to identify on a mammogram. Consequently, it went undetected for at least a year, resulting in the development of one very large tumor and another smaller one. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It seemed surreal to learn that this dreaded disease had attacked yet another member of our family. But my sister is a woman of faith, and she is drawing strength and comfort from the knowledge that God is sovereign and He loves her.
“'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. '” ~ Jeremiah 29:11 (NASB)
Although I realized that my sister’s history was now my history and that her diagnosis had implications for me as well, it still didn’t change my mind about not doing the re-excision.
But that was then . . . .
That evening I received another telephone call; this time it was from our son, Josh, who is a 3rd year medical student at KU. Josh was inquiring about what decision I had made regarding the second surgery. I told him that I didn’t want to do it because I was looking at a three inch gash in my breast and the thought of having it cut back open again did not appeal to me in the least. I also explained that I felt comfortable with the 1 mm margin because the margin was clear and it was 50% of what they wanted to get. In my way of thinking, since the tissue closest to the involved area was clear, then chances are the tissue on the other side of it would be clear, too. Besides, DCIS is considered Stage 0 or pre-cancer. At that point in the conversation, Josh proceeded to give me an old fashioned “butt-chewing.” (The kind I used to give him when he left his wet towels on the floor.) He said, “You’re lying to yourself, Mom. You’re lying to yourself.” He said he just emailed me some information which showed that statistically the number one risk factor for recurrence was the failure to achieve a full 2 mm. margin, and anything less than that was “sub-par care.” By then I was crying because I just did not want to have to undergo another surgery. But Josh was unaffected. “Your tears mean nothing to me right now, Mom. I’ll hold your hand and cry with you later if you want me to, and there are medications they can give you to help ease your anxiety. But to allow those fears to keep you from making the right decision is just plain foolish!” He said that statistically 1 in 7 women will get breast cancer, but we have 4 women out of 7 who have developed it in our family. “That’s huge, Mom,” Josh exclaimed. “This is serious. It’s nothing to mess around with!” Finally I agreed to “think about it.” Josh replied, “Then I’ve failed. I’ve failed.” He simply would not take no for an answer. By the end of the conversation I was convinced. “I’ll probably do it,” I said through my tears.
Josh’s voice immediately softened. “Okay, Mom. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Josh.”
To be continued . . . .
Josh & me on his 25th birthday, April 15, 2006
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