Cancer Is Pretty Much The Worst.

On Mother’s Day weekend we found out my mom has cancer.
Just forcing my fingers to type that sentence was a feat. I wish I could erase that sentence and make it go away, but that’s not how cancer works.
I’ve never experienced anything like this; it causes a specific kind of pain in your heart. This information is HEAVY and hard to make sense of. It manifests itself as an actual physical burden, pressing on you. I couldn’t breathe. I could barely force out the words to tell my husband when I got home, and it took me a few more days after that to be able to speak it out loud to anyone else.
When she told us, she also said “But you know, I’m fine. I’m okay with this”. And I wanted to scream ‘You’re NOT fine. It is NOT OKAY”. Maybe I did yell it? I don’t remember. And then, I began to try and process it. My mind still, even two weeks later, seems to just be kind of frozen. I don’t even know how to pray; fortunately, God hears every word and thought, whether whispered or sobbed. He does not turn from us when we cry out.
We still don’t have all the information yet, and because of that I probably can’t answer many of your questions. About two months ago, the surgeon performing an outpatient surgery on my mom’s abdomen discovered something he couldn’t quite label. Our nephrologist stepped in and didn’t waste any time in getting more information and second opinions, as well as referring my mom to a colleague who confirmed a diagnosis of Peritoneal cancer. Peritoneal cancer is rare. The peritoneal cavity is essential a special lining in the abdomen that contains many of the body’s organs: liver, gallbladder, pancreas, colon, stomach, intestines, appendix, etc….. so many organs and types, I’ve had trouble reading up on all the information.
At this point we have more questions than answers. Biopsies were performed last week to help determine the possible location of origin of the cancer.  We should have a treatment plan in place by the end of next week. What we do know: her cancer is late stage (meaning it is not contained to one location any more and has spread), but it is low-grade (meaning it is slow moving right now). We also know treatment will involve intensive surgery to remove every organ and piece of organ possible, then a chemo wash.
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My mom is a crazy strong woman and I want to keep her crazy strong. I want to keep her, period, but I’m feeling pretty helpless. She’s facing a huge war against this cancer; but she’s not alone. Our entire family is standing with her, prepping to fight alongside her in this battle. And behind our team? We’ve got you guys. Her squad. Our friends and family who are rallying around her, ready to lend a hand where needed.
And God, He is our rock. My mother’s life is built on His foundation.  God can mend and heal. He has proven to us over and over that He is capable. We’re praying fervently that He does heal her. God, please mend her. My prayer is absolutely selfish; I need my mama. I’m sad and pretty mad and kind of a puddle of feelings right now.
How is my mom doing, you ask? Um…. pretty much ready to rock and continue being a reflection of God’s love and grace and light to everyone she comes into contact with. So, no change?  #teammom
Want to rally with us? Follow her story, get updates, and encourage her via her Facebook page: Kelly’s Tribe
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Thirty-Three Sounds Good To Me!

Last Friday was my birthday. Yes, it’s taken me 7 days to write this post. don’t blog-shame me. Maybe if I could get my brain and my body to get on the same page I’d be able to sit down and get something accomplished in an efficient way… but so far that hasn’t been a perk of my new kidney. lame.
Last year, thirty-two felt an awful lot like thirty-one. No big.
This year, thirty-three feels completely different. Only 365 days have passed, but it feels more like 365 years have passed. and I’m on a new planet. and in a new body. with a new identity. and all because of a new kidney.
Since my kidney transplant a little over four months ago, I’ve experienced so much change. Emotional change, mental change, spiritual change, and of course, physical change. All that is to be expected, of course, but you can’t ever truly prepare yourself for something like that.
A common misconception about organ transplants (a misconception even I’d subconsciously subscribed to) is that once a person has receive the transplant, things will return to ‘normal’ and they’ll be ‘cured’. Unfortunately, transplantation isn’t a cure for kidney disease; it’s only one of the treatment methods. The alternative is dialysis. I’ve discovered it’s like trading one set of issues for another. And I’m slowly wading through these new ‘issues’ {you can read more about them here}. They’re all generally minor things (hair loss, mood swings, insomnia, hand tremors, weight gain,  skin issues, etc.). Totally manageable and itty-bitty in the grand scheme of things.
One of hardest for me to deal with? The face rounding caused by the Prednisone. Some people refer to this as ‘moon face’ {because your face gets as round as the moon. no joke}.  I knew going in to this process that that would be something I’d struggle with. Let’s call it what it is: straight up vanity.  Rounder isn’t any less beautiful. I know this and I preach this {even though my body shape is more of the twig variety}. I know round is beautiful because I’ve often been jealous of other women who have curves. But I’ve been struggling horribly with this. It’s mostly that my face isn’t my face anymore. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see me. And that is WEIRD! What if my husband doesn’t like this face? He married a slightly different one. So far though, his only comment has been “you look healthy”. meh, I’ll take it.
I hadn’t realized I was subconsciously letting my struggle with my ’round face’ show outwardly until my five year old Charlie and I were taking silly selfies on Snapchat {like you do}. She made an offhand comment that she liked it better “when I smile with my teeth”. She went right back to doing her bunny ear pose, but that comment stuck with me for days! I hadn’t even realized I’d changed the way I smile over the past few months, simply because my face was rounder and I felt self conscious about it. The reality is everything is different and most of this new Ashley is here to stay, so I need to hop on board and ‘make it work’! {insert Tim Gunn voiceover from Project Runway.  You can tack on a ‘frankly I’m concerned’ just for fun…}
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Regardless of my inner strife, my birthday came just like it does every year. I’ve never been big on celebrating birthdays. I’m content to just let them pass; which I guess isn’t the norm because every time I responded truthfully when asked what I was doing for my birthday {which was nothing} people were shocked. Chris was determined to make me celebrate at least a little, though, so we did it my way:
The morning of my birthday I met a friend for coffee, then we popped in to Target to ‘just get diapers for Will’.  Of course I came out with all kinds of things but… happy birthday to me!
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Then Will and I ventured out to the DMV to renew my license. I could have done it online, but I was desperate for a new photo! Last time I took a license photo the ‘no smiling rule’ was in effect here in VA and, you guys, I HAVE to smile in photos. If I don’t smile I look like a Disney movie villain. It ain’t natural. Will spent a lot of time crawling around on the floor, dragging his monkey behind him, and pointing to anything interesting he saw. like beards. dogs. women with beards and dogs. and I allowed it. honestly, the fact that he’s mostly non-verbal is a blessing in those situations. I’d just pretend he was pointing at something else and distract him with a cookie.
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For dinner we went to Rita’s. It was a total parenting win and we had no regrets.
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Then later that evening I was able to meet up with other foster and adoptive mamas to laugh and cry and eat yummy food. It’s a beautiful thing when women support women, mamas support mamas, and we can surround one another with a tribe to call on and fall on when in need. When that happens, mom’s win… but more importantly, families and children win, because they reap the benefits of having strong, healthy foster mamas in their corner.
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The next morning, we had breakfast with my family. Then on Sunday, Chris took me out for lunch {I pretty much just ate chips and guac}. Totally my kind of birthday weekend.
I’ve been so spoiled lately and have so much to be thankful for. I’m working on embracing thirty-three and the new Ashley; one who smiles with her teeth more often.
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Getting my life back together.

Y’all. This week has been so good.
On Sunday my best mate Jessica drove down from PA to essentially help me get my life back together. Thanks to the crazy adventures in December and early January this year {Christmas kidney transplant, New Years surgery recovery, and Snowpocalypse resulting in school being cancelled for one thousand days} our home was a hot mess. It was as if every surface in every room had turned into that one chair that everyone has in their room where they pile clothing for 3 weeks before tossing it all in the wash. Add to that the fact that the kids still live here every day and don’t show signs of moving out any time soon.  We had quite a challenge to tackle. Fortunately for us, my mom has been coming over frequently to help keep our home livable and essentially manage my life since I can’t adult right now.  Also, Jess is superwoman and has a special skill called  ‘get it done’. My house is now manageable again thanks to the two of them! More than Jess helping with cleaning and organizing, I just so needed to be near her. She’s one of my people, and as such helps me heal just by sitting with me on the couch while we stuff our faces with ice cream and send funny memes to each other from one foot away. She also waxed my eyebrows for me because she doesn’t want to be seen in public with Chewbacca. also maybe because she loves me and wants me to be my best self. We’ll never know, but they do look fabulous.
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We also went on a ‘quick’ {lol} Hobby Lobby adventure with Kelsy Lee {aka kidney sister} and Tiffany {my fitness guru and the reason I ever finished grad school}. I didn’t buy allthethings. Thank you Jesus for self control. Also to Chris for putting the fear of God into me regarding my medical bills. I keep forgetting about those little nuisances. Can’t a girl celebrate her new kidney and new life with some retail therapy at the crafting superstore?! Apparently not, because we also have to pay the heating and electricity bills. buzzkill.
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Then this weekend Chris and I got to hang out with other leaders at our church. It was so fun and so needed. I’ve been in hiding for over a month now, avoiding public places because people are germy and germs mean bad news for someone who is immunocompromised. also ew.   I was hesitant to go, because germs, but also because of my issues with being prickly lately {read about my Prednisone rage struggles here}.  In the end I decided I really needed to try to get out of my hibernation cave and maybe even put on some real clothing. And by ‘real clothing’ I mean tunic tops and yoga pants with the waist pulled all the way up my torso, because a waistband rubbing against my incision ain’t happening. Maybe I should resort to a dress that doesn’t rub against any of my skin. Does this come in my size Lady Gaga?
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And quick question, are the body guards included? I need some protection from the huggers and high-fivers out there.
In the end, Chris allowed me to venture out of the house and into the masses. I’ve been starved for real worship and connection with my tribe. There’s no substitute for getting together with others who love God too and want more of His goodness and grace and love in their lives. Unreserved praise, immersion in learning, growing as leaders. It was epic.
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{This weekend’s activities made possible by: Thieves essential oils in the air/on the skin/up the nose, as well as my own pillow and blanket, and cleaning wipes on every surface in that hotel room. I ain’t messing around.}
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I needed this weekend.  As of right now, one month into 2018, I’ve failed on so many fronts. I honestly have this nagging push that I need to be taking on even more things right now. Yet most of my ‘goals’ are still at square one and I want to scratch them off the list completely so I don’t have to worry about failing at them. Seems safer to not even try. Being lovely is so hard y’all. I quit.
Just kidding. All I DO IS WIN.  But for real, I left this weekend’s event with a renewed focus. It’s so easy for me to beat myself up right now because I feel like I’m not doing enough, that I am not enough because I am in this season of rest and healing and being slow and healthy {ugh, like a sloth or something}. And I find myself keeping a running list of all the things I’m not doing. Guess what y’all? We can’t all do all things and hallelujahpraiseGod he made us all different so we CAN’T all do ALL THE THINGS. If I’m striving to add something to my plate because I see another woman excelling with that particular bit of life and I want it for myself I am going to miss out on something awesome God really wanted for me. I don’t want to be distracted by things that are not for me. I want to focus on lovely and I can’t do that by adding additional things to my ‘list’; that’s just asking for failure. Instead I’m focusing on unclenching my fist around the worry and comparison I so easily cling to. I’m reducing my ‘I must accomplish this’ list. I’m staying small and simple. Searching for the quiet so I can listen to God and allow him to direct my actions.
If this verse in Philippians isn’t the definition of simple and the path to lovely, then I don’t know what is.
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Also, eating at Smash Burger helps too. Simple and lovely. Like God intended.
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Fighting for Lovely (+ my HOPE Spotify mix)

I’m now 5 weeks post-transplant. Things are getting better every day.  My new kidney is adorable and working like the energizer bunny, clearing my body of toxins and being all-around awesome. My kidney is, after all, only 24 years old, so I’m practically a ‘youth’ again. At my last transplant clinic visit I graduated to every-other-week visits!
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Only one new organ was added to my body, but it seriously feels like I got a whole new body. Everything is so different. Much of that has to do with the medications {they just barge in and jack stuff up all over the place} and some of it is simply what happens to the human body when you have major surgery…. like your eyelashes fall out and your hair gets a new texture. oh goody.
This past week I’ve been struggling with emotional side effects from my medication.
This is me on prednisone. The aggressive, irritable diva porcupine….
 

Now, please don’t take offense if you’ve spent any time with me this past week! I wouldn’t have let you near me if I didn’t want your company or conversation. You’re safe from my wrath. And if I did snarl at you, I swear –  it’s not you, it’s totally me. It is SO me and these drugs. They’re the worst. and also the best because they are keeping me alive.
To combat this aggressive porcupine thing I’ve got going on, I’ve been immersing myself in prayer and reading scripture because I want to make sure God’s promises to me remain in the forefront of my mind. Promises about who He is and who He says I am. I’ve also had my Spotify HOPE mix on repeat. Trying to let the words soak in deep. Fighting to stay lovely. I hope it helps you too, in whatever you’re struggling with right now.
{click on the little green Spotify button and it will take you to the Spotify register/log in page}

 
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