A Reason to Keep Going    

Some days are harder than others in Cancerland.  And some days are so good that they remind me to be thankful for all that I have.  For instance, attending the National Balloon Festival in Indianola, Iowa with my granddaughters.

Emma was so excited.

“One! Two! Three! Four!”

Her thin arm stretched toward to the sky where the hot air balloons were flying over a Morton building that serves as a museum about the National Hot Air Balloon Festival (held each year in Indianola, Iowa), a souvenir stand, and a bunch of food trucks.

“Five! Six! Seven!” she said, giggling with each count.

At first, I thought we’d see maybe ten balloons.  Then I saw a chalkboard that stated that there were twelve balloons.

Okay. Good. 

“Eight!  Nine! Ten! Eleven!”

But they kept coming, and my granddaughter who is four, stood from the blanket we’d spread in the field and then recounted from the beginning, lengthening her count with the sighting of another bright balloon.  While waiting for a new balloon, she discussed the colors, and of course which one was her favorite.

“Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen!  Um … sixteen!”

When three appeared at once, she still went through her counting exercise adding, “Seventeen!  Eighteen!  Nineteen!”

Her grandfather, her mom and dad, and baby sister were all enjoying the evening, too.  Occasionally, it took a while to see another balloon and she would say, “I’m bored.”  Mom and Dad would come up with things to keep her occupied, including a kissing fest which Mom and baby sister Ellie participated in.  But soon another balloon showed, and Emma went back to her counting.

“Twenty!”  There was a pause; I could see Emma searching her mind for the next number.

“Twenty-one,” her dad told her.  After that the counting ended.  Now we were focused on the colors, and which one was that moment’s favorite.

I leaned over, kissed my husband, and said, “This. Taking all that medication, and getting two shots a month, and going through hell occasionally are all worth it for these moments.”

It is easy for me to get down about having metastatic breast cancer. Some days I wish I could sleep all day.  Some days I spend a great deal of time in the bathroom battling diarrhea (sorry if that’s too much information, but as the blog Nancy’s Point says, I’m keeping it real). Some nights I wake up with horrible gas pains and other times I just cannot eat.  But I force myself to endure all those things, to get up at a set time every morning to eat and take my medication and then take it again at seven at night.  I hope and pray that it’s worth it.

I need to point out to myself what makes it worth it. 

A child counting hot air balloons between squeals of delight and giggles is worth it. 

That same little girl coming up to me in a Christmas shop with a bright, sparkly unicorn ornament in hand, is worth it. (Even if the thing is really a swan.)

Same child coming back to me with an ornament for her baby sister is amazing.

Her baby sister sending me the biggest smile every morning of our family trip to Door County when I looked at her saying, “Good morning, Baby Girl!” is priceless. 

And if I get a scrunched-up nose during that smile … God, it’s all I can do not to cry.

Watching their mom hug and kiss and wrestle with them on a blanket during the lull of balloons is really worth it since only five years ago we thought that perhaps there would be no children for her or our son.  Now we are delighting in them, too.

My mother used to say, “Pray that God is kind” when people were facing improbably difficult situations. She didn’t need to tell me to thank him when kindness is shown.  I figured that one out years ago.

 I used to say these long, detailed prayers – of thanks, praise, and a few requests.  But since my MBC diagnosis, I am trying to ask God to be kind, to thank him every day for one highlight, and to make requests if need be.

Of course, I have to be aware of the one special thing that happens each day.  Sometimes it’s a silly thing – like the Ash tree in our neighborhood that is now turning orange. I am so happy to get to see that! 

 

Sometimes it’s a pretty, but funky decorated coffee shop like I witnessed near Madison, Wisconsin.  How cool that they used black and white drawings except for the bathroom ceilings!  And that I got to see all of it.

And sometimes I thank God for people in my life.  My sister may be gone – God, how will I endure life without her – but I am so glad that she was MY sister, that she loved us all so heartily. 

And if a scan comes back good, or a new doctor reviews it and says it is probably arthritis and not cancer, then I’m thanking God for that, too.

But the little girls who rule a large part of my life right now earn God the biggest thanks. 

Thank you for letting my days last week begin with that cute smile. 

And thank you for allowing me to witness the love fest on the blanket.

And for the 104 balloons that graced a summer Iowa sky.

And probably most importantly, thank you for allow those meds to work and give me the added days of my life.