DANCING WITH MY GUARDIAN ANGEL
By Katy Meek
“Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; it is about
learning to dance in the rain”
April 9, 2007: I awoke
startled in a hospital room....how could I not remember how I got here? As I
become more coherent my mind wanders back to my last memory of being wheeled
away from my life into an operating room that would change me forever.
A friend had arranged
for all of us waiting for my surgery to wear red lipstick. This idea came from
a movie, "Why I Wore Red Lipstick to My Mastectomy". This made me
have a sense of control. I found the
lipstick comforting as I was briskly wheeled down a sterile hallway. I am
freezing cold and frightened, this is so surreal. I drift off.
Struggling to stay
awake, as the morphine ebbs its way through my veins, I thought of the
bilateral mastectomy that I had survived. Breast Cancer diagnosis: Check
Surgery: Check
I feel myself starting
to panic; did they get all the cancer? Am I going to live? The morphine quickly
takes me to a place where there is no cancer; there is no pain or fear. There
is only peace, I sleep, I dream....
February 22, 2002:
I went to a club with a friend, I could be so shy but we sat at the bar
as no other seating was available. I sat next to a nice looking man, older than
myself, but very handsome and single! He kept talking to my friend and I. His
wife has passed away a few years ago of cancer. He had awesome blue eyes that
twinkled and he made me laugh. This man asked me out and we have been dating
since our first date a few weeks later. He became my "special man
friend". We danced to a Beatle’s song; little did I know this was my first
dance with my guardian angel.
February 22, 2007: We
have had a wonderful, exciting five years together dating.....then I felt that
dreaded lump in my breast. It became my secret as I feared the lump was cancer.
I could feel it in my soul that it would not be good news; so I decided to
ignore it and just maybe it would go away. A few weeks later I finally found
the courage to make a doctor appointment.
March 13, 2007: At North
Hills Hospital I hear the words coming from a stranger's lips, "Ms. Meek I
am sorry to inform you that you have breast cancer". I want to fall to the
ground, I feel so alone....."You need to see a surgeon immediately".
I hear, "I am so sorry; would you like me to call someone for you?" I
am about to be sick, I need to leave this small room that smelled of film
developer. Somehow, I thanked the radiologist and stumbled to the hallway. I
wait to get to my car to cry, the salty teardrops stinging my face. I am
sobbing and shaking. I am in shock. I am a single mom. How am I going to do
this?
I call my special man friend.
Barely able to breathe, I struggle to get the words out, "I have breast
cancer". I am crying so hard......
and praying, "Dear God, please help me have the courage and strength to
get through this one.” He is at a loss for words. I felt like I was dropping a
bomb.
I worry that this man
will not be able to go on this journey with me as his memory of his wife's
cancer is etched in his mind. Her pain, her suffering can still make him
shudder with each beat of his heart. I am frightened and I need his
strong hands to lift me over the hurdles I am about to face but I was not sure
a person can go on a second journey. I wanted to be selfish...but would
certainly let him go without guilt or remorse.
When Vic said, "We
can get through this together" I felt such a sense of relief and comfort
that this man would take this cancer journey with me. I thanked God and prayed
for strength and courage...I never asked why I would get cancer; I just
prayed for strength, courage and the capability to just put one foot in
front of the other. During a prayer I felt God's presence and knew I was ready
to face my fears. I felt such a warmth come across my shoulders, a peace come
over me and weight was lifted off my shoulders. I stopped crying myself to
sleep every night.
One of the most
difficult things I had to do next was tell my daughter and son that I had
cancer. I would be having major surgery to remove the cancer by having both
breasts removed. It affects a daughter's future and a young son does not want
to hear about his mom's breasts but he has to. We hugged, we cried. My daughter
is afraid for my future; I am afraid for hers.
April 2007: Everything
regarding my treatment moved fast a period of time. I had a visiting nurse come
to my house every other day to change my bandages. This went on for 2 weeks, I
had those awful drainage tubes; after an eternity I got them removed. I had
never looked at my incision as I just couldn’t bear to see what the surgery did
to me.
The nurse removed the
bandages while I waited for my reconstruction surgeon to take a look at how it
was healing. Vic looked first so I would
know if I could look. He said, “It wasn’t too bad and the incision looked good”,
I looked and from that day on I took it all in stride. If he could bear the
change I knew I could too.
May 2007: I had a port
put in my upper chest for chemo…..this made the reality of it just one step
closer. I am so scared. The port just grossed me out for the 8 months I had it,
I will never forget the pressure each time that I felt as they connected the IV
to chemo.
June 5, 2007: I am reclined in a “chemo” chair. I feel the
pressure of the chemo IV being hooked up to my port. How did I ever end up
here? New chemo shoes: check, new chemo outfit:
check. At least, I looked good!
Everyone knew I was a “newbie” because I had hair and I am probably visible trembling.
I have a doctor
appointment with the Oncologist and then my first chemo treatment. I am feeling
nauseated as I am reliving this day. It was one of the most difficult moments
of my life. Fear can be so paralyzing, somehow, with my guardian angel and with
God’s grace, I walked the path to the doctor’s office. I am shaking, my heart
is racing; my instincts say run and run fast! I promise you there was only one
set of footprints walking down the hallway into the chemo room. It was horrible
but I lived through it! Well, another notch on my badge of courage. Yes! Only seven
more to go! The next few days bring nausea, vomiting and body ache so I sleep;
take lots of medicine to control the symptoms. I begin to wonder if I am going
to die because I sure feel like it. Then amazingly, I return to life and get
ready to return to work.
June 11, 2007: I
returned to work. It was a great place to be to feel somewhat normal. I worked
between chemo treatments and the company was very good to me. I was paid for
all of my time off.
June 2007: A few weeks after
my first chemo my hair started falling out. For some reason, I thought I might
be exempt from losing my hair but sadly, it was all gone after a couple of
weeks. It was another very traumatic, almost devastating experience. I felt
like everyone could look at me and I know I had cancer. I got my head shaved to
get rid of the few strands of hair that held on tight and got fitted for a wig.
The wig was cute and maybe even sassy but way too hot for the hot flashes I
began to have. I wore a hat with my head held high. I got used to not having to
do my hair. I just had to match my outfit for the day to a hat. Oh yes, don’t
let me forget that I started having hot flashes—every 20 minutes or so. Wait, I
didn’t sign up for this!
June through October 30,
2007: Chemo came and went as scheduled every 3 weeks and just as I was feeling
almost normal again I would get another round. I was sick, nauseated and the
bone pain was brutal. Somehow, after feeling like I wanted to mash the death
button, I did feel better between treatments. My blood counts were low
sometimes and this required cell enhancing injections from hell, other times I
would have to be on antibiotics and stay away from crowds, I was always able to
go to work (go figure). Vic took me to all my doctor appointments and chemo
treatments so I never felt alone. He spoiled me with lunches and Dr. Pepper (my
lifeline) while I was hooked up to the chemo. He would insist I leave my house
at times just to get out of my fetal position when I was worn out from the
chemo.
My son, a freshman in
high school at the time, lived the chemo experience with me. He was good about
bringing me something to drink and fixing me something to eat when I just could
not get up and do it myself. He was great overall for not getting sick when I
was violently nauseated from each chemo. Each one seemed to be worse than the
one before.
October 30, 2007:
Finally chemo number 8 is over!! I am elated! I take gifts to the nurses and
Dr. Patel. I survived!
November 2007: Port out,
what a relief.
December 2007 to
February 2008: Another chapter of my treatment begins….tissue expanders are
filled with saline to start stretching my skin for breasts! Wow, as the months
and fills I felt like I was going to need a tracheotomy. With my prosthesis on
I had boobs from my neck to my ribcage. I never had large breast so it was
almost embarrassing. I had to buy new tops to wear to work to accommodate these
HUGE appearing breasts. Vic was so supportive and the poor guy had to listen to
me complain but he did great! He really should have gotten a trophy!
February 2008: I got
breasts…..my very own breasts. I don’t have to take them off at night. They
look great, I feel like a “real girl” again. My hair had started growing back
so I stopped wearing my hats when I returned to work. It took me several years
before I could wear a hat again to cover a bad hair day when running errands.
May 2008: I was laid off,
but cancer taught me to persevere. So I WILL SURVIVE, after my cancer journey I
knew I could handle just about anything. This was just another small hurdle.
I can’t say that I am
glad that I was diagnosed with breast cancer, but I learned so much about life
along my journey. I learned that there are so many great Christians amongst us.
I had an outpour of support and prayers that offered incredible hope for me. The
love and prayers I received were unbelievable. I had no idea that I had so many
friends and all my relatives in New York were awesome. Vic started a site for
me on Caring Bridge. It allowed friends and family to get updates on my journey.
Also visitors wrote encouraging and inspirational messages.
So many people brought
my son and me dinners when I had chemo or a surgery. The kindness was
indescribable. I will never ever forget how wonderful everyone was to me and my
son. Often someone brought desserts for my son.
I want to say a very
special thanks to all my friends at St Peter’s Lutheran Church, friends at Pier
1 Imports, my children and family, the whole Carter family, Aunt Doris for all
of the cards, Vic’s daughters, Rene and Laurie, Susie, Kim, Taylor, Deb and
most of all to my Guardian Angel. Oh and don’t let me forget, Dirk Nowitzki,
#41 for the Mavericks. He will never even know how wonderful I think he is and
the stories I have fabricated purely for entertainment purposes.
February 2012: Next
month I will be a FIVE year survivor!! I feel like I am on top of a mountain!
Thanks to our Lord and Savior and to my Guardian Angel I survived breast cancer
and am alive to celebrate! Five Alive!! You can’t even imagine the empowerment
this experience has given me.
And as for me and my
Guardian Angel, we are going keep dancing—even in the rain.
Your are so strong. Not sure I could have faced chemo so bravely. Luckily for me, it was actually optional in my case. My 5 year survival rate was already 97-98% and the chemo would have only added an extra half %. I'm a gambler,lol!
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