Photo found on the Facebook Page “Perpetual Optimism”
Isn’t that just the truth?? Goes along with the idea that “Everybody has Something.” Now if we could all just find a positive way to channel it.
Not always so easy. I cried today. I finally found a nice oncologist who takes my insurance. I saw her on Tuesday, but she wants me to get right on scheduling the colonoscopy. So I called to set up the appointment with the GI doctor and the first appointment was the day after our vacation. As I hung up the phone cried – overwhelmed by ANOTHER doctor, ANOTHER appointment. But it was my very smart Meghan who said, “Mommy if it is going to make you cry, just make it the next week. You can still go, just a little later.” I rescheduled.
My girl is in bed. Sick and feverish. We ducked an ER visit tonight, and am hoping to do the same tomorrow. Along with the Cowden’s she just has a rotten immune system.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring, for any of us?
Tonight I will not be angry about the past, the diagnosis, the syndrome that has taken so much of our time, freedom, and spontaneity. I will instead be grateful. For the geneticist who cared enough to find me an oncologist when I couldn’t. For the pediatrician who has called 3 times since we left his office at 2.
This past year has changed us, for sure. Cowden’s Syndrome has transformed us into different people. But I will never look back at this last year with eyes of regret or sorrow. I look back with gratitude. For the health I have, for the friends that have stood by me, for the new friends I have made, for my family.
Constantly changing, none of us are ever the same. The question is WHAT do you want to change into? I know what I pick…
This cartoon is on the front of Meghan’s 4 inch medical binder. We have sometimes decided whether or not to keep a doctor by their reaction to this TRUTH!
It is late. I should be asleep. Morning comes fast and it is already after midnight. I just can’t seem to find a way to unwind.
I just had a long chat with a ‘new” friend. That helped a lot. But still here I am, trying to get these racing thoughts out of my head before I rest.
I saw a new oncologist today. The geneticist insisted I have one to follow me and one for Meghan. Except I was having a hard time finding one who didn’t think Cowden’s Syndrome was contagious. (Ok, perhaps I exaggerate, but they weren’t anxious to see me.)
So the geneticist sent out an Email on Tuesday to some of his friends. By Friday he had a name for me, (which means the genetecist is a KEEPER!) of a doctor IN network, and I met her today.
She is lovely. Of course, by already having the double mastectomy and the hysterectomy, I have made her job much easier. Now she gets to push me to the fun stuff. Next up- colonoscopy, and kidney MRI. So tomorrow I will call to get the GI appointment, while they work out the authorization for the MRI.
And all the while I will mourn a bit for the summer that wasn’t meant to be. This was more, a necessary doctor “catch up period.” I think by the end of August we will have at least 25 appointments done between us. And those are just the ones scheduled right now.
So, just when I start to get whiny and cranky about wanting some alone time to shop, or some fun time to swim, I remember. Were it not for the work of the angel on my shoulder, that pushed my “prohylactic blilateral mastectomy” in March, I would have likely been spending this summer prepping for cancer treatment.
So, we still get our trip to Disney, and there is always NEXT summer…
I spent the last hour preparing for Meghan’s oncologist visit on Friday. We haven’t seen this doctor for months. There have been a few things going on. So, I faxed her 32 pages of what we have been up to. She wanted to review it before the appointment.
I posted the cartoon because I had her binder out while I was preparing the fax. I laugh every time I read it because even after all these years it is still true. Even with our diagnosis of the PTEN mutation, and Cowden’s Syndrome, even with the precancerous thyroid nodules in Meghan, and her early puberty, she still has pain. Every day. And not one of these doctors that we take her to can tell us why.
I thank GOD every day for her stamina, and her spirit and her spunk. She is my love, my reality check, my perspective, my reason for being. I feel displaced right now, from my church, my comfort zone – but not from God. Even in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, I have a husband and a daughter that are beyond compare. God has us in the palm of His hand. We are blessed. And it WILL be OK!
This year I am obsessed… well with quite a few things, but one of them is not (directly) medical.
This year I am focused on a high quality, everyone looks their best, everyone is smiling, family photo.
We are a family of three. Immediate family that is. (Not including our furry friends Allie, and Lucky.)
Our extended family includes his parents, two sisters, a brother-in-law, and three nephews. On my side, there are my grandparents, (Mom’s parents, my step-dad’s Mom, and my father’s mom) as well as my mom and dad, my father, my two sisters, a brother-in-law and a half-brother, and two nephews. That list doesn’t begin to address aunts, uncles and cousins galore on both sides. Yes, they are all family, but reality will never put them all in one place at the same time, and there are probably some blessings to that. While I love them all dearly, I often say you shouldn’t mix drinks, or extended family!
We have been fortunate enough that we have been able to travel to Walt Disney World in Florida for the past 4 summers. We will be making it a 5th this year. We save and budget all of our “fun” money for a Disney vacation because for their extremely high pricing, we get “allergy safe” meals wherever we eat, and unlimited access for Meghan’s push chair, which she often needs when we travel more than about a half mile. It is the best week of the year for all of us.
It is usually the week of Meghan’s birthday. It is doctor free, no needles, just be “normal” week. We take LOTS of pictures. Usually it is of Meghan alone, or of one of us with Meghan. They are great photos and I treasure them. The few photos we have gotten of all of us in Disney usually have us in sweats, and sneakers – SWEATING. This year we are going to go to the photo studio, and I don’t care how much it costs. Meghan and I have dresses picked out, and matching sandals too. (We just need to pick out something for Daddy who after deciding “stress eating” isn’t the way to go, is down over 20 pounds!)
There are so many reasons why I am focused on this photo. It is FUN to focus on something FUN.
I have been smacked in the face with the reality of the frailty of life. In March I was given a “second chance” as I was told the breast cancer that was “sneaking up on me,” unbeknownst to any doctor – was gone. Gone after a “prophylactic bilateral mastectomy.” Gone before it had a chance to wreak havoc on my life. Gone. But I will not forget the words of my surgeon, “If you had waited until July to do the surgery you would have likely been in a fight for your life.” Instead, I will go to Disney World.
Not lost on me is the reality that 15 years ago next month my Mother finished up treatment for bilateral breast cancer. She is strong, a survivor, still here, enriching our lives.
Not lost on me is the cancer scare AGAIN in May, as they worried about a malignancy in my uterus, before performing a hysterectomy.
I am vividly aware every moment that the thyroid specialist who monitors Meghan’s “precancerous” thyroid nodules, took back his invitation to come back in a year, and said, “we better see you in 6 months. One nodule is starting to dominate.”
I am painfully aware every moment that after one of the strongest, and longest battles I have ever witnessed, we lost GGPa in June to cancer.
My stomach, and my heart hurt for the victims of the senseless attack in Colorado this week. Families out to see a movie – life ended so tragically.
I love to look at pictures. In an age when people have stopped printing them, I have shelves FULL of albums. I love reliving memories, and smiling at al the good times. The albums remind me, that no matter how tough things seem, there ARE LOTS of good times.
Cowden’s Syndrome, PTEN mutation, cancer, NOTHING can take away the memories or the good times. So since 2012 has been quite the year, we will take a “fancy” family photo. One that will hang somewhere in our house and remind us that we can endure the tough times. One that will remind us to hug each other tightly, and to kiss each other when we leave, and to never stay angry over nonsense.
One that will remind us that we are defined by our spirits, and not by the sum of our parts.
I can not tell you for the life of me why Spiderman was on my mind today, but I was thinking I could use one of those web shooting things. It could be modified to hold the cell phone that is constantly in my hand! I remember when Meghan was so colicky, and I used to carry her all day in that Baby Bjorn carrier. I LOVED having my hands free again. I hated that she just kept crying, but at least I could move around a bit. I am starting to feel painfully tethered to my phone. I waited forever for the vascular surgeon to call. Now Dr. K from Boston called Saturday, and we still haven’t connected.
Paranoid to miss his call, I carry my phone EVERYWHERE I go. I am not kidding, that is my cell phone in the plastic bag at the beach today.
Today was a banner day.
It was the FIRST time we have been to the beach since before her first birthday.
This child was so sensory sensitive that we were both deeply traumatized by the first trip. It took us almost 8 years to work up the nerve to do it again, and boy has she come a LONG WAY!
We only stayed a few hours.
Long enough to get into the sand and build a castle. Long enough to find a few shells. Long enough to jump a few waves. Long enough for her to say, “Mom my knee is clicking every time I step and it hurts.”
Clutching my old scratched up cell phone like it holds the answers to all life’s problems I silently, desperately, wish it would ring.
But then what?
Will Dr. K have a single answer?
Will he want us to drive 5 hours just so he can say, “I don’t know?”
Yesterday we saw Dr. P – the geneticist at NYU who started all this about a year ago.
It was a friendly visit, catching up on all we have done. I had a chance to thank him for “catching” the Cowden’s Syndrome a year ago. It was his desire to dig deeper, and to solve the puzzle, that undoubtedly changed the course of our lives, and likely already saved mine.
He asked a lot of questions again. He looked closely at Meghan, especially her legs. He pointed out again the 1/2 cm discrepancy. He pointed out the swelling in her LEFT knee, likely the result of her favoring her right knee. (The AWESOME PT Dr. Jill, already called that one!)
He listened to my concerns about her avoidance of activities. He said the fact that the Celebrex is working means to him she likely has arthritis due to deterioration from small amounts of blood circulating the knee joint. Not JRA, but degenerative arthritis. He said she can’t stay on Celebrex forever. And although I knew that I was busy shuddering at the alternatives.
He will nose around, and see if he can get a closer orthopedist to take a look. Then he will look for an oncologist for me. In the mean time he said, let’s just get a screening sonogram of her kidneys, to be safe. Just a baseline.
3 hours later we had word that her kidneys are “beautiful” and untouched by Cowden’s. We left NYU exhausted, and relieved, but still waiting. Always waiting, and wondering, and worrying. What next? Can we fix it? Wait… nothing new please! We haven’t fixed the last thing yet… and so on and so on.
Tomorrow we will go back to the pediatrician to recheck for the recurrent strep. Then, a much anticipated play date for Meghan.
Then Friday, its to the plastic surgeon for my recheck, with another playdate for Meghan.
All the while my cell phone will be close at hand. Last year at Disney they finally got me on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. Good thing. I think it’s a case of life imitating amusement park here.
Cowden’s Syndrome is a great big roller coaster, so I better get a stronger stomach!
The “Mommy Monster” is back in focus – eye on the prize!
See… all it really takes is for the wrong person to tick me off, and the tears just dry right up!
We went out today. I told you I like Saturdays. Family days. No doctors. We went to visit my parents, and my grandparents. Saw my sister and my nephews. Then we spent the afternoon with friends at a birthday party for 3 year old twins. Good times. I was even able to eat a slice of pizza. I have had less than no appetite these last few months, so I was impressed. Feeling pretty good we got home around 6 – and took in the mail.
It was clearly a bill, but I wasn’t prepared for it to read $750, “previous balance.” Followed by an admonishment that we should pay immediately.
Again I repeat, “HAS EVERYONE LOST THEIR EFFIN MINDS?”
There are things we don’t do in this house. We never give money to phone solicitors, and we NEVER pay a non itemized bill – ever. Not even if it is for $7.50.
So I went down to my very thick “pending” file, to find that on November 29, 2010 (because this is for surgeries in December of 2009 and April of 2010) I sent them a LONG and detailed letter with all the EOBs attached, stating why I owe them nothing.
Really, stupid people who choose not to do their job, and make work for other people REALLY annoy me!
As I got all fired up for Monday’s battle, I noticed the answering machine was flashing.
Checking the message I saw it was a Massachusetts number. At 4:30 PM today, apparently Dr. K from Boston was in his office reviewing Meghan’s MRI.
I sent him the report yesterday after my visit in NYC. I also sent him a cover letter which essentially said, what Dr. R had concluded – that there was no mass in the knee, and that Meghan is still having some pain in the knee. I closed the brief cover letter by asking him to keep the report in her file should I need him at some point in the future. I made a point of telling him “If I do not hear from you I will assume you are in agreement with Dr. R’s findings.”
SURPRISE! More opinions weighing in from up north in Boston.
Dr. K’s message said the knee MRI “looked good” in terms of him not seeing blood on the joint. He said, ” I know what you wrote about Dr. R not seeing a mass. I just think if she has symptoms you should bring her to me for evaluation. Give it another few weeks and come up in the early fall.” (Sure…. no conflict with the school calendar there)
Relieved to hear the “old boys club” doesn’t supersede professional opinion in this case.
As for what happens next – who knows? Every day is a great adventure for sure. At least the Mommy Monster is back in full swing. Looking forward to fighting the good fight Monday morning.
I will probably call Dr. K – just to be clear on his thoughts too. It’s Saturday night. Monday’s agenda is set. And I have set my own internal countdown to Disney – the family vacation. Keeping my eye on the prize. God willing the doctors can’t find us there.
Headed to bed now. Tomorrow I will take my family to a cute little church a few miles away from the one I grew up in. The people I love aren’t there, but they are nice people too. And we will thank God for the blessings that have come from a week of ups and downs.
Cowden’s Syndrome is exhausting… but we can take it!
Apparently this has become like a sleeping pill to me. This is the place I go at night, to sort out all the emotions of the day before I can try to find some rest. I can’t imagine that will do anything to gather more readers, but it is certainly helping my sanity.
I am trying to find the balance, for both my daughter and myself. The balance between being properly scanned and “on top” of all our countless risks, while not letting doctors take over our lives. Because the truth is, they don’t know a whole heck of a lot about Cowden’s Syndrome. Most of them don’t care to find out, and the few that do, well – I will let you know. I think we have 3 between us that seem truly willing to learn.
So today I took Meghan to the vascular surgeon. The same doctor that has embolized the AVM in her knee 4 times. The same doctor who in February, right after the 4th procedure, handed me the name of a doctor in Boston. “We just drained 30 ccs of blood from under your daughter’s kneecap. I don’t know why it was there. You should go meet with this doctor and see what he has to say. He will likely want to put a scope under her kneecap after she has healed.”
After ascertaining it wasn’t an emergency, but not something we should sleep on, we met Dr. K in Boston over the April break. He examined her, without the CD images that I had pleaded with the NY doctor to send up 3 weeks PRIOR to our appointment. He said he wanted to keep an eye on it, and to repeat the MRI/MRA in 6 months.
So we did. And on Monday the PA who had been in the OR with the surgeon and my daughter 4 times tried to tell me there was nothing in her knee.
Today, armed with a 2 page report and the paper the surgeon gave me in February with the Boston doctor’s name on it, we went for our visit.
I am still confused by the number of inconsistencies that happened in one small room. The surgeon began by taking back his concern from February and telling me he just wanted the Boston doctor to get a baseline on Meghan “just in case.”
Which, I though to myself, I am sure is true because I definitely would have made a 5 hour drive 4 weeks after a double mastectomy if he was so nonchalant.
Then, he held to his story that there was nothing in her knee. Even as I pointed to an obvious bump he told me it was nothing. I questioned him on the report, the one that says there is a stable 2.8 x0.7cm mass. He told me he reviewed the CD and disagrees with the report. Even as I told him I found the report to be strikingly similar to the December report, he offered to sonogram the knee to confirm “nothing.” On sonogram he said there is a gathering of tissue (do I need to define mass?)
So, he said to bring her back in 6 months. They will reevaluate. Then we will repeat the MRI in a year.
Have I mentioned I cry when I am frustrated?
Well somewhere about 10 minutes into the conversation, when he was busy changing his story and disagreeing with the report I got overwhelmed. Shouldn’t have done it, but I cried. Fatal mistake. I now look like a complete ass, when that is his job. And he does it better than I ever could. He actually had the nerve to lecture me that I would make my daughter upset. I still can’t believe I took that. (Still stewing!) AND, I shot Meghan th evil eye to keep her quiet and remind her of her manners.
I HATE the crying thing. I have been working on it for years. UGH!
You know I wasn’t crying because i was sad. I actually was really relieved at the thought that no surgery was necessary. I was frustrated by arrogance, lack of clarity, and overall lack of concern for my daughter the whole person.
See, no one else knows the tears she sheds about this damned knee. The things she can not participate in, or the modifications she has to make just to avoid pain. She does them effortlessly. Every day. No one knows except me. And it kills me.
So when we were leaving I tried to find the bright side. I said, “See, at least you won’t need knee surgery this year.” To which my far too bright, soon to be 9 year old responded, “I am not sure. To me surgery makes it worse, and not having surgery means no one is going to do anything to make it better. Guess my knee is going to feel this awful forever!”
Now I could have tried to tell her that maybe it will be better by itself, but I respect her way too much, because as much as I would love to believe it – I don’t.
AVMs are difficult to deal with anyway. When you combine them with a PTEN mutation, they are ridiculous to control.
Just one aspect of a multifaceted disease.
I really wish I had kept my broken genes to myself.
I am not really angry. That takes up too much energy and I have none to spare. To be angry there has to be a target of your anger. And really, who or what am I going to be angry at? And what purpose would it serve?
Now frustrated is a different story. Frustrated is when the control freak can’t sit long enough to organize the pile on her desk.
Frustrated is the dead sod in the yard, and the cucumber and zucchini that seem to have developed a “creeping crud” fungal infection.
Frustrated is when old “life” problems, like credit and identity theft issues that were solved three years ago start taking up time, and there isn’t much to spare.
Frustrated is when you can’t get a doctor who takes your insurance (despite countless phone calls) to order the tests you need so you can stay well enough to be on top of the (not so bright) doctors who are treating your daughter.
Frustrated is trying to plan some FUN events when doctors appointments keep getting in the way.
Super frustrated is having to go to NYC to see the knee surgeon tomorrow, on a perfectly nice – I should be scheduling a play date for my kid- kind of day. Frustrated is being unsure how to get my point across without being escorted out by security, and/or without scaring my kid.
Frustrated is going to the appointment alone- when I really want my husband there, but knowing it is not the kind of appointment he should take off work for.
Frustrated is wanting so badly to let some of this worry go, and knowing I can’t.
Frustrated is a new medical issue, every time I turn my head.
A toddler girl crying (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Frustration IS Cowden’s x2!
Sometimes I cry when I am frustrated… but everything always looks better in the morning. ( I hope!)
Meghan and I have a lot of “deep” conversations. More than you might expect an 8 (almost 9) year old to be capable of.
Today she was wondering why we have to have Cowden’s Syndrome. Why is our PTEN gene broken?
Well, I said to her, everyone has something to deal with – and this is what we’ve got.
She thought for a minute, trying to figure it out herself, and then said, “What do you mean?”
“No matter where you go in the world, in every city and town, in every street, in every country, on every continent – EVERYONE is dealing with SOMETHING.”
I told her there is a saying that goes around “If everyone could toss all their troubles into a circle, and choose which ones we wanted, we would likely take our own back.”
Almost indignant she said,, “Why would I take back Cowden’s Syndrome? It stinks.”
“Yep, but would you trade it for the family that doesn’t have enough money to buy food, the family that lost their house to a fire, the family where the parents have lost their jobs, the family where the parents aren’t in love, or are divorced, the child who can’t have any pets because her sisters are allergic, the family whose Mom or Dad died, fighting for the freedoms we celebrate today?”
It doesn’t take much for her to “get it.” That’s why I love her so much.
Christmas 2011
“There are kids without dogs,” she said. “Lots of them. And I really love Allie and Lucky.
There are kids without their own room, or even their own house.
There are kids whose Moms and Dads don’t love each other.
Some kids have other diseases where they have to go to the hospital even more than me.
Ist Holy Communion 2011, with GiGi and Pop
Some kids don’t get to know their grandparents or their great- grandparents, like I do.
I get it Mom, I think I do. But, still it seems like some people have no worries, no problems at all.”
“Those are the people I worry most about Meghan. Those are usually the people whose hearts hurt. They are often alone, or insecure, or feeling unloved. Trust me, EVERYONE has something.”
Fireworks!
“I guess you were right Mom. I don’t like having Cowden’s Syndrome… but I wouldn’t trade our life for anyone’s.”
“Iam glad – me either. Our “thing” to handle is medical, and we will get through it – together. Tonight we celebrate our country, and the freedoms it was founded on. We celebrate the soldiers who fought for our freedoms, and the ones that continue to fight. It is those freedoms that allow us the ability to battle whatever “thing” plagues our own life.
WARNING – This post may be uncharacteristically whiny and cranky. It is boring, and lacks any pictures or “fun stuff.” Maybe its the heat. Maybe its the start of menopause, or maybe, just MAYBE it’s the WAITING!
So, last year when we were first diagnosed with the Cowden’s Syndrome, the geneticist suggested my daughter and I each be followed regularly by an oncologist who would act as a ‘case manager’ of sorts. Seemed logical. We got Meghan set up with a doctor in NYC. She actually has experience treating “patients like us.” We thought we were golden. She ordered the initial scans for Meghan (and even for me) of the brain. She ordered Meghan’s thyroid sonogram, and her biopsy last November.
Well, that biopsy was a traumatic train wreck to say the least. To make it worse, when we spoke to the oncologist about it she was defensive of the doctor she had sent us to. We moved the biopsy slides to another hospital and she was obviously annoyed. She is still Meghan’s oncologist of record, but we haven’t seen her in months.
I tried an oncologist here at home. He listened, the first visit, and the second. On the second visit he suggested I look into having the remainder of my thyroid removed prophylactically. He gave me the name of a surgeon and told me to go ASAP. So, when I called to make an appointment with the surgeon and he wouldn’t see me, I called my oncologist back. He would not get on the phone with me, and would not call the doctor on my behalf. I was livid, but found myself an endocrine surgeon who (at least for now) advised against removing the rest of my thyroid.
When I called my oncologist back in late January to schedule my breast MRI. I was told it was too early. I reminded them that February marked 6 months since my last, and in fact it was right on time. They refused to authorize the MRI until late March. Well, we know how that turned out. When they called me with the authorization number I laughed at the irony of the whole thing, and told them I didn’t need another appointment.
So, there was the mastectomy in March. Great surgeons, great catch, great job.
There was the hysterectomy in May. Again, great surgeon. Job well done.
The surgeon in May recommended an oncologist in her practice for me. I called to make an appointment. I was told to fax my paperwork. I asked if they could just look in my chart. It is all shared between the doctors. No, please fax it. Ok – 39 pages later – and a huge fight with my fax machine… I got it.
They called today to tell me the oncologist thinks I should see a geneticist instead. Gee isn’t that ingenious? That is how I got diagnosed to begin with. Dope. They will look into it and call me back.
I am starting to feel like PTEN mutation is some sort of plague. What is WRONG with these people?
Which brings me back to my girl. In February the surgeon(who people travel the world to see) for her AVM said that her next surgery would need to be at Boston Children’s Hospital. They were not sure exactly when, but July was floated as a possibility. So we went last Thursday, the 28th of June for her MRI. After a grueling 2 hours, we left with a CD in hand, and the promise that the results would be at the NY surgeon’s office Monday.
I took the copy of the disk I had, put a cover letter on it, and sent it to the Boston surgeon we met in April, promising him a report would soon follow.
Monday I called the NY surgeon for the results. I was told the disk hadn’t arrived. They would call me. I called again this morning. I reminded the receptionist that I really was anxious about the results. It’s on his desk she told me. She also told me he leaves today for vacation till Monday. I asked her to be sure someone calls me today. I carried my cell phone ALL day.
It’s 10:04. I guess I will be waiting till Monday. Really? I know it could be worse. It could always be worse, but enough with the lack of compassion, the inability, and lack of desire to follow through. Enough with being scared of treating us because you don’t quite understand what we have. Enough WAITING!
“…You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. The Waiting Place…
…for people just waiting. Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or a No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting…” – Dr. Seuss
I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE THE WAITING PLACE!
There is more to the book. Lots more, but this is the part that keeps running through my mind, right now, at 1 AM, as I sit buried under a pile of papers. There is some combination of house bills, medical bills, medical errors that need to be corrected, and “this just has to wait because I can’t deal with it right now.”
I successfully organized a lot, and have a bag of shredding to prove it. This makes me happy. I like order. I strive on structure. I can sometimes be a little difficult to live with because in my house every toy, every item, has a “home.” Nothing is left laying around. I will confess to being a bit compulsive.
Why? People ask all the time. Why, with all you have been through, why after the breast cancer, the hysterectomy, Meghan’s surgeries, WHY does it matter if your floor is mopped and your counter is clean? All the time I hear – LET IT GO!
Well, the truth is – I can’t.
I need control. I need to control what I can control, which these past few months hasn’t been a whole heck of a lot. So, if having control over my clean floor and my clutter free desk makes me happy, people are going to have to go with that.
I have mentioned several times that my Mom always says, “You plan, God laughs.” Well we have joked that He has had a few good chuckles this year. While I feel INCREDIBLY blessed for the countless things that have gone well, sometimes the fact that Cowden’s Syndrome invaded our house and stripped me of the ability to plan, schedule, control, and order just about anything really gets under my skin.
After Meghan’s AVM surgery in February, we were told she was likely to need additional surgery in a few months. I did not sign her up for camp, WAITING. We had the MRI last Thursday. She spent 2 hours in the tube WAITING for them to take 5,000 images. I will call again tomorrow, but I will likely spend the week WAITING for the report, and the decision as the whether the next surgery is to happen now or later.
I signed her up for dance once a week, and swimming once a week, but we are WAITING on the MRI results to know if she will complete either of those classes.
Then, with the lack of a structured day she spends her time WAITING and hoping someone will come and swim with her. (That is when we are not WAITING at doctor’s appointments!) Her mother is WAITING for the lingering bleeding from the hysterectomy 7 weeks ago to stop before I head back into the pool.
I feel like these last few months have been full of WAITING. WAITING for surgery, WAITING to go home, WAITING for pathology, WAITING …
I have no control over any of this. I do believe GOD is in charge, and I am so comforted by that belief. It is my human frailty that keeps me searching for ownership and control where it is not mine to have.
I will WAIT. And I will do it as patiently as I can. Cowden’s Syndrome will be full of WAITING – forever it seems.
But, I will wait with a clean, organized house. I can not control this PTEN mutation, or the Cowden’s Syndrome that resulted, but I CAN certainly control the clean counters, and the dog fur… well, most of the time!
Towards the end of his book Dr. Seuss reminds me, and all of us…
“And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
beatingcowdens 