(June 24 in 2018:)

The space between

August 24, 2017 – Night of breast biopsy. Sitting in massive unknowns. Fearful. Angry. Sad. Knowing I had cancer but not knowing officially…wondering if I was going to be right. Uncertain about how to tell the girls. Unsure of how I was going to survive it.

June 24, 2018 – Night before reconstructive surgery. Sitting in more unknowns. Grateful to survived this far. Wondering if my gut, the one telling me that this surgery won’t be successful, is going to be right or wrong. Yet still hopeful. Anxious. Angry. Unsure if I will survive this next huge thing.

August 25, 2017 – Official diagnosis. World spinning out of control. Anguish and devastation. A weird calm because I actually wasn’t surprised. Doubts and fears. Excruciating anger and confusion. Hearing the words “chemo” and “double mastectomy.” Even more unsure how I was going to survive it all.

June 25, 2018 – Reconstructive surgery. ………To.Be.Continued. Lord willing.

Today has been an interesting day. A part of me has wanted to fill it with everything I can do now that I won’t be able to do for awhile. A part of me wanted to see a long list of family and friends. A part of me wants to eat as much ice cream as my tummy can handle. Another part of me wanted it to be just like any ole Sunday. It’s no big thing. 

…I’m packing a bag tonight and I’m putting things in it that I think I’ll need but I’m not totally sure. I gather the items unsure of anything. Will I be thrilled at the end of tomorrow? Will I be devastated? Will I have told Chris to update MyLifeLine with “Surgery was a success” or “Surgery was unsuccessful” and let everyone who reads it know before I even know? Will I want my own pillow and blanket or will I be too ________ to care? Will I feel up to visitors or will I want to be left alone?

…These tissue expanders…these painful, plastic, harsh foreign bodies that are uneven…will hopefully be removed. A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t been in pain. A night hasn’t gone by that I haven’t slept well. They have taken the place of what I once had….and I swing between resentfulness and gratefulness. They have helped make me look somewhat feminine. They have also made all of my clothes look funny. They have hurt but they have also prepared my body for tomorrow’s surgery. Good riddance but I’m facing another adjustment to something new. 

…I’ve been here before…the night before a big surgery. The feeling in my gut. The tensions of peace and fear. The process of accepting loss and gain. The losing of independence. Facing tremendous vulnerabilities that compare to nothing else. Trusting other humans with my life.

…The space between. The space and time between drifting off to a long sleep and the waking up from the long sleep. What is that space…. Is it quiet? Is it deep? Is it fast? What color is it? What will my brain think about? What will my soul feel?

Lord, meet me there. And each moment leading up to it. And each moment after it.

This day in 2018:

6.25.18 Reconstruction 

Checked in. Waiting for the nurses to come get me. 

I may update a couple more times before surgery…..but once I go back to the OR, Chris will be updating my site throughout the day. 

Feeling grateful this day is here. Feeling anxious as anyone would. Feeling at peace because I trust a big God who is always good.

Chris Havekost · Monday, June 25, 2018 
Surgery is underway! 

Hi All, Amber went in to surgery on time at 7:30 this morning. She was a little emotional but I think excited to get this done. She’ll be under until at least 3:30pm, if not later, so it’ll be a long day. I’ll post updates as I know more. Thank you for your prayers and support

Chris Havekost · Monday, June 25, 2018 
She’s done 

Hi all, I just met with her surgeon. He said everything went very well! I should be able to see her in recovery in about 45 min. Thanks for all the prayers

(June 24 in 2019:)

Sobered

I was at Rose this afternoon for an appointment and as I was walking in, I got really sad. I’m not always triggered when I go there but today, I was. The word that came to mind as I was sitting there waiting for my appointment to start was sobered. I was sobered by the road I’ve traveled. I was sobered thinking about what all has transpired at Rose. I was sobered by the depth of darkness that I have encountered. And then I considered the light I have experienced as well. For as intense as the darkness has been, so has the light. And I’m grateful for that. 

(As I typed this out, it struck me that for my mastectomy tattoo, I chose the rose to tell my story. I hadn’t thought about Rose Hospital when I talked with Albert about the design and what it meant to me, but what an incredible coincidence…….that probably wasn’t a coincidence at all. Whoa.)

This day in 2019:

Either/Or…….or maybe Both/And

I think we get ourselves in trouble when we think in terms of ‘either/or’…when we think everything has to have its place, a category, a black or a white. When we think conclusively and prescriptively and definitively. 

This in comparison to a ‘both/and’ mindset where things can simply just be messy.

Of course, there is a context for everything and some things are very much an ‘either/or’ kind of thing. But I’d say, in general, if more people were able to embrace a ‘both/and’ attitude, they may have more capacity to navigate difficult circumstances. 

If cancer were an ‘either/or’ thing, it would look more like, “Why me? I must be a bad person because cancer is my punishment,” or “Cancer is the hardest thing I will ever have to do,” or “Cancer is only devastating,” or “I just can’t do it anymore.” But if cancer is a ‘both/and,’ those statements would sound more like, “Why me? What can I learn as I struggle through this?” and “Cancer may not be the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do,” and “Cancer is dreadfully devastating and beautifully transformative,” and “I can do hard things, even if it is just 5 minutes at a time.”

Cancer has taught me the value of the ‘both/and’ and I’ve written much about it. Holding the tension, accepting the undone, participating in the messy rather than the hopelessness that lies in the constraints of the ‘either/or.’