Welcome Cancer, the Fight is On

Tonight I'll process. Tomorrow I'll write more.
If you wish more info please check out www.caringbridge.org/visit/kat2009.

I keep saying, "I wrote the book, funny what I forgot while in process."

Thank you for your prayers. This I know, I'm confident God is at the center of my life, He knows the whole journey before me. I can fight the fight.

Still Lionheartedkat, Kat

An Evening Out

It’s early Friday morning, the day after the Blackwood Brothers Quartet concert. The only problem with the concert, I allowed the pain meds to wear off and now I can’t catch up, or is it because I left my pillow at home and that caused the problem? The pillow props up the left side and eases the drag on the stitches. I don’t know the answer, but I know I needed out of the house and I enjoyed every minute of the Blackwood Brothers Quartet. The guys always give a full performance, they clown, bring laughter and the gospel message.

Outside of our house I didn’t feel like a patient anymore. I grabbed four Capsules of Hope books to drag along and of course, we sat in the second pew right by the piano. DeAnn Johnson of Eagle Wings Promotions, and her son Kyle sat in front of us. Then a woman asked if the rest of the front row was taken. She glanced at me, her eyes opened wide. “Aren’t you Kat Crawford?”

Can you believe DeAnn and Husband had fun with that, “The famous Kat Crawford.”

When Joyce introduced herself, I remembered she’s the greeter at Greenwood Christian where I’m scheduled to speak on August 16th. What a fun visit. Joyce felt certain God arranged our evening, I think so too.

You know I can’t waste such an evening, I sold three books, handed out several business cards and it looks like I have another speaking date arranged. While sharing the Capsules of Hope info I met another cancer survivor. She struggled through breast and ovarian cancer and looked great.
Cancer is such a scary word, yet many people live through the battle—no one chooses the journey, it just happens. When Jimmy Blackwood closed the program he brought his friends up to date with his mother, she’s been diagnosed with a reoccurring cancer. A good reminder for all of us to pray for the Blackwoods and their families.

Worry is Waste

Got creative, used a pillow to prop up the hurts, tied the pillow in place and did some mega writing today. Then at

11:30ish I called doctor’s office. No report. Colored my hair, took a shower, peeled off the bandage. Actually, doesn’t look too bad. Different than the lumpectomy in 1980. I made a sandwich for lunch, took my pain meds, then played a game of chess with husband. No one should try chess and meds. It doesn’t work. He beat me.

Took a nap. Receptionist called, still no report. I now have an appointment at 10:15 tomorrow. So I’m going to figure out a way to cover my owie and think I’ll go see the Blackwoods tonight. Thanks for the prayers. beautiful flowers, emails, and phone calls. Honestly, I know nothing, so can share nothing.

Interesting how one can lose time while waiting, or you can choose to move forward. I've decided I'm not wasting this time. These are memorable moments. Husband's bike went on the fritz today, think we'll hunt for parts online. Gotta keep him moving, too.

Feelings Need Expression

Maxine says:
“If you need a shoulder to cry on, pull off to the side of the road.”

Sunday night, husband off playing table tennis, too late to call sane people in Omaha, exhausted and anxious, I called a dear friend for that “shoulder to cry on.” I know her well enough to understand she wanted to “bolster me up.” I also know she has counseled hundreds of people and spent a lot of time helping me stay on the right track in my lifetime. She’s a wise woman, and sometimes doesn’t understand me. She said rather loudly, “Hey, it’s a procedure for crying out loud. Lots of women have procedures. I know dozens who have faced tumors and lumps and lived through it. One woman had a huge tumor removed from her ovaries and it was benign.”

I shut up. After a moment of silence friend said, “You still there?”

“Yes. I’m here.” I took a deep breath, swallowed feelings, wiped at the tears that threatened and said, “Tell me about your week.” And for twenty minutes I listened. Then she said, “So is this lump the size of a walnut or what?”

“Husband saw the surgeon with me Thursday. She put her fingertips and thumbs together…..more like the size of a baseball.”

“Really. Well what….”
Of course I didn’t know the “Well what”. Funny how when we are so emotionally involved with the unknowns, our feelings need expression. This incident is one more reminder of how much I need to put on listening ears and allow others to speak, whether I can fix it or not.

This I know, this dear friend, like many others is praying for me. The prayers are getting me through each day, even when I don't know what the future holds, I can count on the fact that God knows the outcome.

No Dentures Needed!

It’s 4:30 a.m. I’m now squeaky clean and air drying. No hair products today, so why blow dry. My hair will fall limp either way. I read the procedure brochure already. Nothing, no water, no coffee, no pills—don’t take any medications anyway. No deodorant, powder, or face cream. This early in the morning, a naked face is pretty scary. But the worst is yet to come.

The instruction sheet says no jewelry, and bring a container for your dentures. Oh joy! Married over fifty years and today husband will hold my dentures and smile. He’s never had this privilege before. In fact, I nearly killed him once for walking into the bathroom while I soaked my pearly whites in Efferdent.

Now my mother walks around everywhere with no teeth. My cousin thinks nothing of leaving her teeth to soak—she carries on a right smart conversation with or without them. Not me.

Husband soaks his teeth, grins at himself in the mirror, makes silly faces at me, or tries to kiss me. Truth is, when he performed as Bashful the clown, that empty cavity made him pretty cute. Me, I chose a more together face for Sunshine the clown.

So today I step into another world, lose tissue and allow my family to see the real me. Funny how it doesn’t bother me to let the medical profession share in those moments, but family? Now how vain is that?

Just being honest.

Still Lionhearted, Kat

Note: Picture of Bashful and Sunshine by Bev May, Troy, Idaho

Yes, this is us. We make memories together. Can you believe that years ago husband and I spent time in counseling. There were days back then I didn’t like the guy I’d married. One such day the counselor told me husband and I needed to talk, really talk. He handed me a paper that showed a large elephant in the living room. “You two walk around the elephant like he’s not there. Someday, the smell will get to you…..” There was more to the story.

So now it’s all these years later and I’m really liking the guy, but we still have places in our lives we don’t discuss. On Sunday evening husband plays Table Tennis. Tonight he needed to leave earlier than usual to open the church doors. He’d finished watching the Tour De France and sat waiting to leave.

“Do you think we could talk?” Here we are, this old married couple. You’d think after fifty years anything could be discussed, but we neither one like talking about the tough topics. I patted the seat on the couch and he sat by me.

“Want you to know I’m planning on the best possible outcome next Tuesday.” Gary nodded his head. “But Hon, you heard the surgeon say, ‘decisions may need to be made quickly.’ If that happens, you have my permission to do whatever is necessary.”

Husband thanked me. He also said, “It’s sure different being the caregiver. I’d do anything if it were me going in for surgery. I’m praying for you more than ever before.”

When burdens are shared and discussed it’s easier to move on.

Looking forward to a grand celebration on Tuesday, it’s my anniversary of twelve years in my job. Pretty special day don’t you think? Wonder if I can get the nurses to bring in balloons?

Still Lionhearted Kat

Health Care Power of Attorney

Sunday morning I spoke in a worship service. It’s interesting how easy it is to put next week out of mind when you are focused on others. Half-way through my presentation I realized I forgot to give the scripture reference.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work; if one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! And verse 12: Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

I’m blessed, I have many friends and I know they are praying for me. I also have a special friend, my best friend, my husband of over 50 years now. Still, even though we are good friends and talk about many subjects, when we left the surgeons office on Thursday, we didn’t talk about what she said.

On Friday I did ask our daughter Marcy to come sit with her dad and made her aware she’d be part of the decision making process if necessary. I’m not choosing to look at the worst. Because I’ve faced the unknown of a lumpectomy (R breast 1980) before, I’m planning on the best possible outcome. Still, because of the surgeons counsel on Thursday, last night I prepared for the “What If?”

I found the Living Will, Power of Attorney, Health Power of Attorney and located our wills. After reading the material, I decided to update the Health Power of Attorney. Typed it up and tomorrow will have that notarized.

It never hurts to be prepared; it is something I can do to help my family.

Still Lionhearted, Kat

The Truth About Tuesday

What’s happening?

Already my emails and phone messages have managed to scramble the brains of others. Here’s the straight scoop as I know it. I have a lump. I saw one doctor, a surgeon, an ultra sound technician, a radiologist, a the squish and squeeze woman at the mammogram fun, back to the radiologist, the surgeons and right back to the first doc for a pre-op.

One dear friend—won’t name names, but she’s the wonderful mother of the young artist who created this delightful lion for me said, “Oh no. Oh really.” Her voice raised a notch or two. “They will take it out and then do the autopsy?”

What a hoot. Laughter is the greatest medicine and hopefully, there is no autopsy in sight. She continued, “I mean the ‘B’ word, not the ‘A’ word. Biopsy. Then they do the biopsy, right?”

That’s the plan friends. Yes, surgery Tuesday, biopsy to follow. Day surgery. Fortunately, no one lets you stay in the hospital these days. After all, that’s the place where you pick up nasty germs, even in the most sterile conditions. Besides, with my food allergies I might end up really sick eating hospital food.

I do not plan on working in medical billing next week, but if you want to schedule a Caregiver Seminar, be sure and email me. I still plan on being in Oregon by the end of August.

Watch this space for further developments. I feel quite confident this whole trip will end up with an exciting adventure of some kind.

Still lionhearted and getting more excited by the minute.
Kat

Better than Roses Anyday

In 2002 the surgeon arrived after an exploratory surgery to say, “Mr. Crawford you have Pseudomyxoma Peritonei.” She explained what she found and said she’d called an oncologist. When she left I called our middle child, Marcy.

This week husband said he’d see the doctor with me. “Not necessary. I’m going there and then to work.” I handled that first appointment fine. Had lunch with friends at CBWF and drove to the surgeon. I felt rather grand when I left there. After all, it’s a lump. Had one of those before. I know dozens of women that suffered with these problems.

Only the next morning when I realized the radiologist talked with the surgeon before he talked with me, I felt a bit squeamish. When he said I needed to call the surgeon for an appointment, I said, “okay.” Drove out of the hospital parking lot, down the hill, into a driveway, dug through my purse for the surgeon’s phone number. Couldn’t find it.

Husband wasn’t home. Didn’t want to call him anyway. He wouldn’t know the number and I wanted to tell him in person. So why did I call Marcy? Cause that’s what daughters are for.

Someplace in Capsules of Hope I have a whole thing about not leaning on your kids, they break. However, at that moment in time, I needed to talk about what happened. How I felt. Marcy couldn’t find the phone number I needed, but there is something about sharing the weight of what just happened.

Thank you, Marcy Lou, you are better than a dozen roses in my day, a sweet rare treasure.
Mom the Kat

Not About Me!

When I read Joni Tada’s devotional yesterday, I claimed it for me. I’d memorized Psalm 5:11 during another tumultuous time in my life. I pulled out the Amplified Bible, looked up the verse. The first part says, "But let all those who take refuge and put their trust in You rejoice....." The last of the verse says "....let those also who love Your name be joyful in You and be in high spirits." That's me, in high spirits.

This is Saturday. I drove to work at daybreak, finished a pile of inpatient charges and then saw the doc for a pre-op. Tomorrow I speak at the Louisville Christian Church, Monday I work and Tuesday I’m taking a break from work to visit with all those people at Bergen Mercy Hospital.

Remember I said, this journey is about someone else, not me. Yesterday a patient called all flustered with her bills. I empathized with her, while I set her up on a payment plan I told her how confused I’d been when husband struggled with cancer. “I work in medical billing and didn’t know what to do.”

The patient said, “I’m in the medical profession?” I moved from one screen to another and said, “Really, where do you work?”

“I’m a pharmacist at Bergen.” Guess what? That young lady is coming to meet me in surgery. Said she’d hold my hand. Are you excited yet?

Okay before Monday I still need to send off two articles, clean my desk, complete the legal stuff—P OA for daughter Marcy. Then must copy advanced directives and all that other stuff. Fortunately, we did all that legal stuff when husband was sick. That won’t take long.

Thanks for your prayers,
Kat still Lionhearted

One Lump or Two?

Unfortunately, this isn’t about a walk on the beach. That’s my dream, to return to Oregon in August and take time among the sand, sea and driftwood. But for now I have an interruption in my life.

A few weeks ago I noticed this thing, a hard spot in my left breast. After a few days I commented to husband, “Can’t figure this out. Think I have a lump.” Only I really thought it might be just a part of my changing hormonal chapter. (This spring the doctor suggested I wean myself off those HRT pills I’d taken since 1984. The hot flashes are a killer.)

Then I noticed a pain. “Quit being a baby, you probably slept wrong,” I coached myself. Only neither the pain nor the lump went away. Last weekend husband said, “Do something.” Monday I called and Tuesday morning I had my first appointment. That doc made an appointment with the surgeon before I left her office. Okay, that’s fine with me. Obviously this thing isn’t going away—we’d better deal with it.

I left the first doctor’s office, drove to Valentino’s for a Christian Business Women’s Fellowship (CBWF) luncheon. Over my salad and chatter with friends the speaker, April Kelly, convinced me I’m missing a huge marketing opportunity by not pursuing Linked-in. When I left CBWF I had great plans for all that new info, only first I had to see the surgeon.

Surgery I can handle, done this before, it’s okay. Only when I drove in the driveway and saw CANCER CLINIC blazing a trail across the front of the building, I felt a little a twinge of fear. (Just a twinge.) That’s when it hit me. This can’t be about any little ole lump, this side trip is not planned in my schedule. It must be a huge marketing excursion for Capsules of Hope: Survival Guide for Caregivers. I quick called a friend and asked her to pray for the person(s) I felt certain I’d meet.

Well the surgeon now has my book and said she’d write a testimonial. (Think I’ll refuse the surgery until she reads the book and writes the promised words. Hmmm.) Surgeon sent me to radiology for an ultra-sound. Ugh a little messy and quite painful. The radiologist said, “We need another mammogram to compare with the April one.” Ouch. After the squish and smash routine, nothing shows on the mammogram. Go ahead ask, “What does that mean?”

Bingo, the radiologist doesn’t know. The lump is about the size of a baseball and totally unknown. This I do know: I’m scheduled for surgery, Tuesday, July 28th at 9:15 at Bergen Mercy Outpatient. (Tuesday is my 12th anniversary of medical billing at Custom Computing Corporation—what a way to celebrate.)

Please keep me in your prayers,
I’ll write more tomorrow.
Kat still lionhearted

Tomorrow I’ll tell you who is on her way to OR to meet me.

This weekend I grabbed my mug of coffee and studied mission statements. I wanted to share a concise reason for my giving Capsules of Hope Caregiver Seminars. Writing a mission statement isn’t new to me, still I couldn’t define my goals simply.

• I truly wanted to brainstorm, but didn’t find any brains going my direction—two or three friends listened to me. Even husband gave up a few commercials during Tour De France, but no one came up with catchy, mind boggling perspective on where I’m going with the seminars. Okay, so I cracked open the books—not really, I used the internet.
  
  After hours of studying Disney, 3-M, Walmart and a few ministry statements, I found several words repeated: encourage, educate, teach, empower, offer help and hope. Finally I came up with a list of do’s and don’ts.
  
  The negatives:
• Avoid lengthy verbiage difficult to read or memorize.
• Avoid coined phrases familiar only to your circle of friends.
• Avoid promises you cannot keep.
  
  The positives:
• Focus on what guides your goals, be realistic and inspirational?
• State your purpose clear and concise, in ways to motivate others.
• Write for the one in need of your service.

The result:

Capsules of Hope Mission Statement:
To help the ordinary caregiver, whatever their circumstance—chronic illness, disability or terminal illness—realize they aren’t alone, help and hope is available. To create an awareness of how neighbors, co-workers, family, friends and the church can help the caregiver cope.

Purpose: To encourage caregivers, no matter their age or situation.

Vision: To create an awareness of the needs in a caregiver’s life.

Plan: To help people of all ages see how one ordinary person can make a remarkable difference in the life of a caregiver, one caregiver at a time.

In the process of building my mission statement I stumbled into a website where the author suggested every caregiver should build her own mission statement. What a great suggestion, only today I couldn’t find that same website, sigh.

This I know, when I finished the project, I felt empowered and inspired, ready to make more phone calls and schedule more Capsules of Hope Caregiver Seminars. I want to create a difference in the world around me before I leave earth.

Oh, be aware, I’m not into giving out cute mugs yet, but who knows what the future holds.