We Will Remember- All About My 5 Year Cancerversary Party

So many posts to write…so little time. I am one day just going to write several to get you all caught up on what is going on!

But one thing I had to share about before it got too far away was my 5 year cancerversary party. As you guys read in my post sharing about being 5 years from my diagnosis, 5 years is a HUGE milestone in my cancer diagnosis.

I had a big party to celebrate and thank family and friends at year 2 from my cancer diagnosis (3 years ago), and then committed to have a party again at 5 years- and we did JUST THAT! We had several friends and family who were a big part of my cancer journey come to celebrate with us. Our goal was to celebrate and REMEMBER what all God has done. We wanted to thank many of our friends and family publicly, as well as to just to be reminded of our miracle working God. We will have another party in 5 more years. I never want to forget, and I want our girls to always be reminded of what God did in my life and how He healed me.

What I am continually blown away by is how we can get watered down by things God did in our life in the past. He moves mountains for us, and then in our valley moment, we get discouraged and forget what He did—days, months, or years ago. I bet many times the Lord is saying, “Do you not remember?!”

One of Josh and my most often phrases when facing a difficulty is “If God can heal me from cancer, this thing we are worried about is nothing for God.”

But, here is the scary thing—being 5 years out from cancer and life seemingly as normal as it has been compared to the past 5 years, there are days I can forget. I still never have a day where I forget about cancer. I can’t WAIT for that day, if it will really ever be here…But there are days where it isn’t at the forefront of my mind of what He did for me- how he HEALED me and saved me from death.

Here are some things I can’t forget:

How every doctor’s report seemed so bleak.

How I was the “popular” patient at MD Anderson because of my cancer’s aggressiveness and my age.

I can’t forget the look on my oncoligist’s face when she told me the cancer spread, and I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Cancer.

I can’t forget my oncologist coming in the room to tell us that we didn’t have time to preserve my fertility like we had previously hoped. She wanted to start chemotherapy that day, but because of not being on the chemo schedule, we had to wait until the following day. I thought I would have time to go home and process. That was not going to happen—time was of the essence, as we were learning.

I can’t forget walking out of appointments and having to give my family members bad news after bad news. I so badly wanted to say “There has been a mistake! It isn’t nearly as bad as they thought it was!” But instead it was the opposite.

I can’t forget praying with my family in the MD Anderson waiting room about our future children and asking God for guidance in treatment plans.

I can’t forget begging God for my life day after day after day.

I can’t forget the smell of the 8th floor chemo floor.

I can’t forget the taste of the saline as they flushed my port.

I can’t forget the pain when they accessed my port to administer chemotherapy.

I can’t forget the frustrating and pain of IV’s, blood draws, and finger pricks.

I can’t forget how bad it hurt to put on my seatbelt as it pushed so hard on my port under my chest.

I remember my bones aching after my neulasta shots.

I remember my fingernails and toenails being so painful, turning black and then falling out.

I can’t forget what it was like to have all my hair fall out.

I felt ugly, masculine, sick-looking.

My head was cold all of the time!

I remember being so self-conscious every where I went. Can they tell I am wearing a wig? Can they tell I don’t have hair? Do I look like I am going to die? Do I look pale? Is it as if I have “cancer-patient” written on my forehead?

I remember my husband shaving the tiny bit of hair I had left in our bathtub.

I remember our 100 plus round trips to Houston.

I remember driving, driving, and driving some more…

I can’t forget the fear going into my mastectomy surgery. How bad will it hurt? Will I ever feel or appear pretty? Will my husband be attracted to me?

I can’t forget waking up from that mastectomy surgery being so hot. My body felt like it was on fire. My lips were so dry.

I can’t forget Josh cooling me down with ice cold rags. My best friends Ainsley, Margot, and Kelly putting chap stick on my lips. My sister, mom, and in laws just looking on with the saddest faces you have ever seen—the helplessness in their faces is something I can never erase from my mind.

I can’t forget waking up from the mastectomy surgery and being in so much pain. My arm pits hurt the worst. All of the lymph nodes taken out. I remember Josh taking me to the bathroom and me crying–not being able to hold the toilet paper—OH the things he has had to help me with!

I remember the pain of the tissue expanders under my chest muscles–they felt as hard as rocks!

I remember the drains. I had 16 drains in total with all of my surgeries.

I remember my husband and mom emptying those drains. Having to measure the fluid and write it all down. Hoping I would get them removed earlier, but I had so much fluid, they had to stay in longer than we hoped.

I remember our sweet nurse friend, Jay, coming by to clean my mastectomy scars. I remember being so embarrassed, but just reminding myself that she sees things like this all of the time.

I remember my husband taking off my dressing looking at my mastectomy scars. We both just sobbed. He bent down and kissed my scars reminding me of the beauty He saw—that every time He saw those scars he would remember what Satan tried to do and how God reached down and healed me.

I remember the radiation treatments. Laying for 30 minutes each day for 30 days in a row. Feeling my skin, muscles, cells, tissue being burned.

I remember the blisters, the itching, the pain from radiation.

I remember the aquaphor all over all of my clothes! It was the only thing that soothed my skin.

I remember all of the marker all over my body.

I remember my reconstructive surgeries. I had my back muscles rotated forward to my breasts.

I remember the pain, the numbness of my back and chest. Going to use that back muscle by picking something up and realizing it was not there anymore.

I remember Josh having to help me in the shower at MD Anderson after one of my reconstructive surgeries. I was so helpless, and he and a nurse showered me off. Once again with a look on his face I just can never forget.

I remember sleeping. I remember feeling like I was sleeping my life away. I was in so much pain. That pain required medicine, and that medicine made me sleepy. I remember feeling like I was just existing.

I remember the pillows. Oh the pillows! The only way I could get comfortable was to sleep sitting up with pillows all around me for months.

I remember the depression.

I remember the anxiety.

I remember the suicidal thoughts…..

My story and the things I remember DO NOT end there——

Many of those memories were the ashes to my story…and even in those ashes, there is beauty!

Here are the incredible victories I remember:

I remember the peace I felt with my diagnosis.

I remember smiling during my appointments.

I remember having joy amidst the terrible news.

I remember having a perfect blood pressure during my first chemotherapy.

I remember not having horrible nauseous side effects of my treatment that I envisioned.

I remember feeling confident to not wear my wig one Sunday at church.

I remember feeling my hair growing back and it blowing in the wind- what an incredible day.

I remember all of the food, juice, laundry, gift cards, money, prayers, time, love people blessed us with.

I remember the joy I felt ringing that chemotherapy bell and my friends and family’s faces as they celebrated with us.

I remember hearing our doctor telling us that I was cancer-free after my mastectomy surgery after she had prepped us for scary results. I remember feeling like I wanted to run and scream up and down the halls that I was cancer free!

I remember weeping with Josh after she left that hospital room.

I remember all of the amazing times we had with the Stanfill family in Houston. All of the laughs, good food, great fellowship, and just experiencing another family loving us as their own.

I remember making “survivor friends” in all of the waiting rooms. Sharing our stories. Lunches together. Praying for one another. Meeting each others families and children. Hoping together. Crying together. Believing together. Instant kindred spirit friends.

I remember ringing the bell at the end of my radiation treatment. The feeling I felt to know all cancer treatment was DONE!

I remember my doctors. The ones the Lord picked specifically for me.

The bond we had with my first oncologist. She was a believer who prayed for me. Our first nurse who told me the first day at MD Anderson that Jesus was going to heal me. The hugs from my surgical oncologist. The bond we formed with my reconstructive surgeon. The look on my radiation oncologist’s face when he told me “You are well.”

Oh my word, I am bawling like a baby as I write this!!!!!!!!!! Why do I do this to myself?!

But my point in doing all of this—in writing all of this down is to REMEMBER! The truth is, if I don’t write this down, if I am not deliberate with remembering, I will forget. Yes, EVEN THIS!

It will not happen.

I won’t let it happen.

And I am just talking about my cancer story here. And there are hundreds, literally hundreds of things I haven’t written down…these are just a few off the top of my head that I feel comfortable sharing. I haven’t even delved into infertility, adoption, pregnancy— There are 10 books all up in this:)

But here are the main things I want to remember because I remembered everything else:

I remember God’s peace.

I remember Him holding me so close.

I remember His quiet whispers.

I remember Him drying my tears as I screamed at Satan in the shower.

I remember His comfort when I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror.

I remember the Lord’s sufficiency as I saw my frame get smaller and smaller.

I remember the intimacy I felt from Him as I cried on my face to God in fear. In anger. In frustration.

I remember experiencing His joy as I received good news.

I remember feeling Him celebrate with me.

I remember His simple reminders that He is faithful. He cannot deny Himself.

I remember seeing His promises come to fruition.

I remember experiencing his tangible, miraculous, healing power like never before.

The reason I remember all of these things is to remember our God.

What He is capable of.

What He WANTS to do for us.

WHO HE IS.

I will remember.

I want to share with you lyrics to a song that our sweet friends, Amy and Ron sang at our 5 year cancerversary party.

“We Will Remember” by: Tommy Walker

 

Please never, ever, ever forget what God has done for you!

Throw a party.

Tell your kids.

Tell your family.

Have a friend get together and share.

It increases our faith. It gives us deeper intimacy with the Lord. It reminds us of who He is and that the current situation you are facing is nothing for Him!

I didn’t take any pictures during my 5 year party, but here is a sweet picture that was taken at the party of my mom and sis with my sweet babies!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We will remember,

 

Aly