My 500 Words: A Writing Challenge - Day 22

Fear. I thought I had faced this unwelcome enemy many times before, but on August 3, 2017, I was dealt a blow that knocked the breath out of me. That was the day my mom was diagnosed with stage one breast cancer. This was a fear I had never known before.

It didn’t make sense. The diagnosis came out of nowhere, like a predator lying in wait to strike its prey at the moment it is least expected. Cancer is an enemy you can’t see. One minute my mom was healthy, able to do her job and whatever else she wanted to do. 

The next minute she was a cancer patient. Her calendar quickly filled up with doctor’s appointments. I didn’t know what to make of this. I was usually the one who needed to see a doctor. Mama was NEVER sick! The most serious thing she’d ever had since I was alive was kidney stones.

Well-meaning people started talking about her dying the very same day she was diagnosed. I wasn’t even thinking about that.  I was still dealing with the fact that she was sick, not what might happen.

But then, I was lying in bed at night a few days after she got the news and the thoughts crept in: “I haven’t even learned how to drive yet. Who will help take me places? Who will teach me to drive? If something does happen to Mama, how will I make it alone?” Fear and anxiousness kept me awake. Every time Mama coughed in her sleep, I asked, “Are you alright?” I just had a hard time processing the cold hard truth. My Mama had cancer and I didn’t like it one bit.

I wanted to fix it. I wanted to make it better, but there was nothing I could do. When the doctor said too much estrogen in her body caused her cancer and soy feeds on estrogen, I became paranoid. He said to avoid soy whenever possible. I started looking at labels. Soy is in everything. I mean EVERYTHING. Even vitamins, mayonnaise, crackers…you name it and soy is more than likely in it.

Once I came to terms with Mama’s new normal and that she was going to be okay after radiation treatments, fear gripped me. I’m 27. I was 26 at the time. I didn’t want cancer, but if it happened to Mama, it could happen to me.

I hate cancer. I hate that it destroys bodies. Mama knew I wanted to be there to support her through her appointments, but I didn’t have the strength to be at everyone. She said, “The best thing you can do for me is pray.” I said, “I don’t feel like that is much.” She said, “It’s more than most people do.”

I decided several months ago to not let fear win. I gave all my worries and fears to God. He has ALWAYS taken care of my family, and there was no reason He wouldn’t see us through this.

Some Peaches Make It, Some Don't

With spring comes new life,

Old things die off.

The grass is green and the flowers bloom,

But I may not share my peaches with you.

Peaches and me go way back.

Down on a country road,

They were lined up in rows.

Mama pruned and plucked,

Leaving only the best branches.

After waiting, those glorious peaches 

Delighted my soul.

So when we moved,

And had to leave them behind,

I was mad!

No more peach ice cream,

Freshly churned.

We didn't eat the store bought stuff, no sir!

Years passed and our yard was bare.

No fruit trees laden with buds.

No promise of brighter days.

But, one day, Mama planted some new peach trees!

Our summers were filled with the sweet aroma.

My stomach was content once more.

Suddenly, Mama looked outside.

One day, the peach tree didn't thrive.

A hole was in the trunk, so black. So dark.

If you pressed on it, the trunk creaked under the pressure.

The roots were visible from the surface, no longer producing life.

The tree was just standing there.

A reminder of what once was.

Some people are like that peach tree.

At one time you were vibrant, full, and free.

Growing and reaching for greater heights,

Aiming for the light.

Life happens,

Your heart grows cold,

You feel that you are not vital anymore.

In that time, your stability weakens.

The place that once gave you strength you abandon.

Recoiling and shrinking further,

You have lost your passion.

Dust to dust,

Ashes to ashes,

Will you accept the lie that you never mattered?

Do You Need Some Help?

Hand © Arto Myllys via freeimages.com

While driving to church, my mom suddenly turned the car around and said, "Whoa! A lady fell. It doesn't matter if I'm late or not, I have to go back and help her."

I was a little confused, but I saw a hint of her sweatshirt. As we got closer, she was hunched over near a stop sign. A runner ran right past her without a second thought.

A young boy was with her. My mom pulled close and said, "Do you need some help?" No response from the woman. I don't even think she moved. The boy said, "My aunt is right there."

Indeed she was, but she was still in her car and hadn't gotten to where they were. 

"Well, I will come back and see if she needs help," Mama said. So, she turned around on that little side road and waited just a minute.

By that time the boy's aunt had gotten to the woman and was getting out of her car.

"Do you need some help?" Mama asked.

The woman gave a swipe of her hand and walked towards the woman. Mama got out and went to help them. The woman was now standing, but it was obvious from the way she was walking that she was in pain. All three of them helped her into the vehicle.

Finally, the boy's aunt recognized my mom. "You're Madison's mom," she said.

"Yes," Mama replied.

The boy's aunt said the woman had some health problems. Mama was talking to her, but said she didn't really listen until she said, "I have a daughter who is in a wheelchair and she has to fight everyday."

She told me the woman started listening then. Mama said, "Don't you give up." The woman nodded her head.

I just can't get her face out of my mind. Seeing her slumped down on the sidewalk clinging to the sign reminded me of how lots of people are. You are so beaten down by life you don't even respond to offers of help. You are just there.

And in that place, many people ignore you. They don't say anything. And you stay fixed in that defeated position. 

Just when you think you are going to stay in that place forever, someone comes along and says, "Do you need some help?"

You think your mind is playing tricks on you, so you continue to sit in silence. Afraid to hope for something better.

That voice is persistent. And now, there are actually people who prove they care by doing something. People forget about the clock and where they have to be. The only thing that matters is the broken person on the sidewalk.

The Climb

My mom has already written about our trip to the mountains on her blog, but I wanted to add my perspective of going up to Mount Mitchell.

Going up the paved road wasn't all that hard - for me. My mom pushed and we took breaks as the path got steeper. A kind lady offered to help us a little further up, and we accepted.

We made it to the top and took in the beautiful scenery. I wheeled around to look at the various signs that told which mountains were on which sides. Then, it was time to go.

Mama said, "Okay, don't panic." Looking down at the path, I did panic at first. My arms were getting sore from being so tense from having them at my side and pressing into my wheelchair cushion.

Mama said, "You are going to have to chill out." She was right. I had to stay calm. 

She was pushing, and I tried to do just that. I was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn't see the path that well. I blocked out almost everyone coming up. A few people stopped and said, "I hope you have power brakes on that thing!"

Mama's response was: "She does. Me." We kept going.

The ride was surprisingly smooth. I began to relax a little. The woman who helped us on the way up was helping us on the way down.

When we got to a more curvier part, Mama told me, "I want you to put the brakes on a little. Not so much that it scrubs, but just a little as a precaution." I did as she asked.

So neither of them got tired, mom and the other lady switched sides. A little time passed and mom asked the other lady, "Is your arm sore?"

"I'm good," she said. "I'm not really doing that much."

I didn't say anything, but I knew enough to know that if she wasn't doing much, Mama was.

At two points during our descent, I felt the wheelchair start to pick up speed. It veered ever so slightly from the steady path we were on. Earlier, when Mama had asked me to put the brakes on, she also wanted my hands lightly on the wheels. So, I felt the pull. The other lady helping was oblivious.

"You've just got to trust me," Mama said. Truer words had never been spoken. I knew if she stopped pulling back on the wheelchair, I would go tumbling down that path and would likely take out a few bodies on the way down.

Mama was guiding that wheelchair. Since my ride was so smooth, I knew she was pulling back HARD.

"Watch out for those rocks," the lady said. I saw those tiny pebbles wedged in the pathway.

Mama said, "I'm not worried about the rocks. I am more concerned about the sand." Sand?! I thought to myself. No one said anything about sand! I didn't even see any sand!

As I thought about this adventure,  it reminded me of my Heavenly Father. Many times we can't see what is in front of us. And if we do get a glimpse, we panic. All the while, He is bearing the load, making our journey easy and light. 

Psalms 55:22 says, "Give your burdens to the LORD, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall."

I don't know what you are going through today, but trust Him. Sit back and enjoy the journey. Don't be so uptight. God's got you! He is guiding you through the twists and turns of life with expert ease and grace. I didn't know how much my mom had done on the trip down the mountain until the end. 

Melted

Screaming © ralaenin via freeimages.com

This is the story of my first shower since surgery. It happened several weeks ago. After having stitches burst open in one of my previous surgeries, I did NOT want that to happen again. To say I was a bundle of nerves was a complete understatement. 

Here's how it went: After getting the wheelchair as close to the bathroom door as possible, I used my walker to get in the rest of the way. We didn't foresee me ending up in a wheelchair, so that door frame wasn't made wide enough. After sitting down, I knew I could get the left foot in with no problem. It was just the right foot I was worried about. I kept telling Mama, "I don't know HOW I am going to get this foot in here! It just feels so tight!" I literally felt as if I could not move it. 

For those who don't know, your leg is really weak after being in a cast. I continued, "This seat isn't right! I think it needs to be catty-cornered to give me more room."

Mama moved the chair as I said.

"This STILL is NOT going to work!" I yelled, panicking more by the second.

"It will be okay," Mama said

"I don't know. I just don't know! I don't want the stitches to burst! I don't want the stitches to burst!" I said through tears.

Mama said, "It will be fine. Nothing will happen to your foot. The quicker you get it in there, the better it will feel because the pressure won't be on the heel anymore."

Logically, I knew what she was saying, but I was in full-blown panic mode.

We finally got the foot in the shower, but I was still going at it, talking to myself.

"This stupid chair doesn't give me enough room! My foot feels weird. And it hurts!

"I need medicine." Clearly, I thought my mom was taking too long, so from the shower I yelled, "Codeine!" 

Mama came with medicine and a drink in hand. Maybe I would live through this. Maybe.

After swallowing the pill, the plastic shower curtain became my enemy. "The stupid shower curtain won't stay shut!" I was still crying and breathing heavily and talking to myself. If I was going to get through this, I had to calm down.

So, every time my foot would hurt, I said, "Help me, Jesus! Please help my foot to stop hurting! Help me, Jesus! And I didn't whisper either, this was almost a wail. Who am I kidding? It was a wail at times.

A little bit of time passed, and I was washing off. Okay, this was not so bad.

Then, I remembered my foot, "God, PLEASE don't let the stitches come out!"

I heard His reassuring voice, "I am protecting your foot. It's not like other surgeries. I've got you."

Ah. What a sobering thought. Through my panic attack, I was so busy screaming, I forgot God had me.

Mama was able to come in and help me quickly wash my hair. And the first shower was over.

Water at Watson Mill!

Mom and I made a short trip to Watson Mill campground a few weeks ago. It's also handicap accessible! I just had to share the beautiful pictures!

Where have you been lately?

Written with Hope

This is an open letter to my Mama. I have some things I just need to say. Sometimes, I can't say things that I want to say without tears streaming down my face, so I'm going to express my thoughts through words today.





Dear Mama,




I want you to know that I haven't given up on walking again. I know at times progress is slow, but I'm doing it one step at a time.





Some days are long. When my hips ache at school, and most people would pick up the phone to go home, I stay. I don't stay to prove anything to anyone. I stay because there is something deep inside of me that motivates me to keep going.





Sometimes, I want to cry when I realize I can't do the simple physical therapy exercises at home. A few years ago they were a normal routine. Your gentle reminder that "You'll get there, Madison" means more than you'll ever know.


You didn't give up on me when I was was fighting for my life in the NICU.




You didn't give up on me when I took longer than most people to recover from surgeries.


You didn't give up on me when I was bedridden with an infection and had to rely on you for even the simplest things.


I know that when I am able to walk again, you will be there supporting me just like you always have.


Love,


Me

My Take on Mother's Day

Mother's Day comes and goes once every year. People bombard the florist and emerge with something that half resembles a blooming flower. We all go back to our homes and settle into our everyday routine.

I'm all for celebrating mothers and all that she does for us, but I believe it should be done everyday. Thank her for breakfast. Clean the counter so she won't have to. You don't have to think of elaborate ways to show your love, simple is often best.

We are all guilty of becoming engulfed in our own thoughts and plans. Sometimes it helps me to imagine my life without my mother for a moment. Who would support me in all that I do? Who would still love me when I'm finding something to argue about at every turn? Who would be my example of selflessness?

Listen, you won't wake up tomorrow spouting thankfulness from your lips. Having a thankful heart and not just a few thankful words takes practice. You have to reprogram your human nature's desire to be negative and critical.

I'm well aware this is a different kind of Mother's Day post. That's OK! Last year's post is more "traditional". I've said all I need to say about how amazing my mother (and all mothers are) for the work she does. I love that we have a day to celebrate mothers, but I think we have to be careful not to get sucked into the commercial part of it.

What have you done for your mother recently that would be considered creative or out of the box? I love hearing about creative things that I would've never thought of!

Mothers

My mother is such a strong woman who has weathered many storms in her life. She's found a way to move on and find the joy in life. She's always upbeat, giving until she can't give anymore, loving with her whole heart, and (most importantly) laughing along the way. She's taught me to hold my head up in the midst of adversity. She's let me know that it's OK to be me and voice my opinions.

When I was made fun of each day at elementary school, she was concerned about protecting me, like a tiger protects her cubs, whatever the costs.

She was there in those late night homework sessions during the fifth grade. I was so frustrated with myself, but she urged me to keep trying. One day, the light bulb came on and I made a 95 on a test and never looked back.

Little did I know what lie ahead in the next few years (for another post).

She was there for me the night before I started high school. Oh what a night! I was a nervous wreck because I'd been hearing stories about how all the freshman were going to get stuffed in the lockers. Since I couldn't sleep, she put on a CD with soothing music. This year defined me for so many reasons. When everyone else was worrying about wearing the latest fashions, surgeries awaited me.

She was there when I was pretty much on bed rest for two years of my life during my junor and senior years of high school. She did everything and more. She WAS my in home nurse. I always joke, asking "What's my bill for today?" She said (and still says) I could never repay her. She's so right about that. She was there to wipe my tears away because all of my friends had forgotten about me. All of them were too busy to come see me. She saw my pain and hurt.

She was there for the countless hours of physical therapy, cheering me on when I think I can't go anymore. She's also come up with endless jokes to take my mind off of the pain.

She's been there to watch me grow up. It may not seem like much, but not everyone has both parents there for those special moments.

Mama, I could never write enough to say how much you mean to me. Thank you for providing me with a great example of what a woman should be.

What are some things that you love about your mother?

New Blogging Friend

This woman has been with me through thick and thin, and now we can add something else to the list of activities that we like to do together. My mom has finally decided to dive into the world of blogging head first. I joked with her yesterday that blogging is like e-mail on steriods. :)

She wanted a new layout that expressed her individuality, but Blogger wouldn't cooperate. None of the layouts would upload, and we tried A LOT. Ugh. Turns out, this problem has been happening to lots of people lately.

So, if you want to read a blog about everyday life from her perspective mixed in with a little humor, go on over and read my mom's blog here!

Taking a Break from my Regularly Scheduled Post

Tanya at Sunday Baker is having a fabulous giveaway on her blog. You get two extra entries if you post about a craft that you've made and post the link in a comment on her blog. My mom can't remember her password, so she asked me to post for her.

She makes fabulous one of a kind jewerly. She's sold lots to people. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves!

She uses anything from Swarovski crystals to glass.These are some things that she made awhile back. I also helped her make some things last Christmas. It's tedious but fun! You can purchase earrings, necklace, and bracelet together or separately. It's up to you! If you want more information, let me know!

Head on over and let Tanya(and the rest of the blog world) know about your wonderful creations!

An Epiphany

When I started this blog, I thought it would be a good idea to share some thing that I written awhile back. I always love doing something that I think will benefit others, and I thought my words of advice could do just that.

Well, I've decided I'm not going to post any more of that letter for awhile. Don't worry, I'll post the rest of it a little later on. I believe I need to focus on the things happening in my life right now and go back to things that I've previously written when I need a boost.

Speaking of now, right now my life is pretty good. Yes, I have my share of difficulties, but who doesn't? Everyone may not experience physical pain, but he/she might experience some emotional pain. Pain is pain. While there are varying degrees of intensity, one still experiences raw emotions that come along with it. I find myself saying, "I'm so thankful for..." at different times during the week. I have a wonderful mom who tirelessly devotes herself to helping me while I recover. She doesn't mind that she has to get the wheelchair out of the car countless times when I go with her. She doesn't mind that she has to help me get out of bed and get dressed everyday. I'm so thankful for her, even though I do have my moments that I'm irritable and frustrated. Not many people could do what she does. She also helps me laugh when I'm in pain. When I'm at therapy, she will make jokes just to help me focus on something else.

I also have an awesome physical therapist(PT) who helps me to refocus when I lose sight of my goal. He also makes me laugh. We talk about all kinds of things while I'm exercising so I won't think about how many leg lifts I've done. He knows what I'm feeling just by an expression on my face(just like my mom, but he's not quite reached her level of expertise, but he's getting there). :)These two people have seen me laugh, and they've seen me cry, but they are still with me on this journey. For that, I'm so grateful.