I launched this personal site today–The Purposed Sailor–3 years to the day that I started daily writing out my cancer story. My heart in this endeavor is to continue to process the wholeness of cancer in my story. It has offered SO much and each day I survive, there is more to add. Survivorship is HARD. Survivorship is constant selflessness. Survivorship is a gift that not everyone gets and it is vital to remember that. Survivorship isn’t just “yay, treatment is over, therefore cancer is over.” Instead it is trudging through the confusion of both+and. I am both grateful to be here and wishing for heaven. I am both transformed beautifully and wrecked irreparably. I am both exhausted and exhilarated. I am both a mess and the best version of myself.

The tension is thick. And it’s difficult. And it’s devastating. And it’s rich.

September 2, 2017 :: Post 1 :: Bringing Everyone on the Same Page

In early July, I laid down in bed and placed my hands on my chest (I guess it’s something I do without really realizing I do it…) And I felt something kinda funny on my left breast. I felt the right side and noticed that it was different. And then denial took over………

Denial is a funny thing….you know consciously that something is there… you are keenly aware of the thing that you are hoping isn’t a thing… you are secretly hoping that that thing will magically not be a thing the next time you think about it… you think about it almost constantly and yet you work really hard to ignore it…. And it nags and nags and nags…

I stayed in denial for a few weeks…while also feeling for the mass every.single.day. And if I’m being honest, probably every.single.hour. “Yup. It’s still there.” “YES!! It’s not th…oh, wait, there it is.” “Ok! It’s definitely smaller today!” “Crap, it’s feeling bigger.” “Oh EFF, there is another one….that’s new and definitely wasn’t there before.”

It was when I found the second mass that I reluctantly came out of denial and was flung into this whirlwind of crisis and trauma and pain and anguish and fear and anxiety and anger and sadness and vulnerability. Being at the mercy of time without any control over what was happening inside my body…that’s when the storm started brewing.

A short summary of my timeline: I scheduled a breast exam with my doctor on August 7th, she referred me for a follow up mammogram/ultrasound. I got in a serious car accident on the 15th (yes, you read that correctly – I was hit hard from behind into the path of a semi which tore off the front end of my car, wheel and tire went flying and hit another car…yeah, go ahead and just pause on that one for a second…) Anyways, then I had a mammogram and ultrasound on the 18th. Then the radiologist sent me for a biopsy on the 24th. On the 25th I was told I have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma in 2 places in my left breast. Then we told our daughters on the 27th that their momma has breast cancer. Next came a breast contrast MRI on the 28th and a meeting with a geneticist (because I’m only 37 with breast cancer I qualified for genetic testing). Then I had a surgery consult with a breast surgeon where they told me I had Grade 3 tumor abnormalities and non-hormone receptive tumors (which means I will HAVE to have chemo and radiation after surgery), then off to an oncology consultation, and finally a plastic surgeon consultation all on the 30th. Then Chris and I had to make the decision to use these surgeons so we could schedule surgery as soon as possible (which, by the way, required the coordination of the busy schedules of a breast surgeon, a plastic surgeon and an available OR all on the same day and time). By the end of the day on the 30th, I had my Bilateral Mastectomy scheduled and confirmed, most of my pre-op and post-op appointments scheduled, and a bunch of other phone calls and pre-registrations completed.

I’m exhausted. Tired. Battered. Broken. Sad. Devastated. Weary. In denial still…a little. It’s surreal and real at the same time. It’s going to grow my faith and test it at the same time. It is going to be written into my story whether I like it or not. It is going to be written into the story of my husband, daughters, family and friends whether I like it or not. And I’m left with trying to figure out how, in God’s name, I am going to adjust my sails in this hell of a storm. 

September 2, 2018 :: Post 353 :: 365

It’s been a whole year. 

My first MyLifeLine post was September 2, 2017……..

While much had led up to that first post…so many appointments, so much information, such deep and intense emotions….September 2, a Saturday, was when I brought my family and friends all on the same page. 

My mother in law was the one that suggested I write. And at first I didn’t really want to. But I am so grateful – from the bottom of my heart and depths of my soul – grateful that I listened to her idea and trusted myself to do it. 

I’m pretty sure I can count on one (maybe two) hands the days that I have missed. Even in the midst of chemo hell where I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the next 5 minutes. Even in the midst of the darkness of post-surgery despair. Even in the day-to-day grind. It may have been only two words that made it on a page, but it was almost every day. For a whole year. About cancer. How it has wrecked, dislodged, up-heaved, destroyed, dismantled, shredded, scarred, broken, demolished, bulldozed my life. 

And also how it has changed me, challenged me, transformed me.

I sit here not entirely sure how to feel. Crushed? Hopeful? Awestruck? Angry? Relieved? Hurt? Exhausted? Rejuvenated? Fearful? And I’m not entirely sure what I will do when I go to write in the days ahead – will I read last year’s post when I sit down to write this year’s? Will I write first and then read? Will I want to read them at all? Will I find it too difficult to look back?

The road continues. It’s not over just because 365 days have come and gone. The days, months and years ahead will be seen, experienced and lived changed because of each moment in each day of the past year. My commitment to not waste this remains strong and I will continue to practice presence even if I look back and I will keep choosing to live changed. That much I know. 365 days. Whoa.

September 2, 2019 :: Post 718 :: A Colorado Mountain Reset

Yeah. I’m not ready. I think I have much more to learn about and write about…especially now with this new chapter starting. So, the writing will continue. The processing and the learning and the cataloging the experience will keep going. So with that……..

Today, we drove up to the summit of Mt. Evans and there is just something about the Colorado mountains that provide a total body, soul, mind and heart reset. As we were driving, I paid close attention to and soaked up everything I could. The many shades of green. The depth of the big blue sky. Breathing in the cooler mountain air. Listening to the girls laugh. The anxiety I felt with every hairpin turn. The little hidden lakes. Wondering if my implants would be affected by the elevation change. Feeling the claustrophobia of my body suit. Dreaming about a day where we might own land and a little cabin in the mountains. Looking down into the beauty of the valleys. Picking up on the perspective of just how tiny the city of man-made Denver looks from the top of God-made Mt. Evans. 

And even the rocks hold intricate beauty. 

As I embark on a new beginning tomorrow, I am grateful for today’s reset.