October 2012

On October 5^th, I had my last doctor appointment in Utah before I moved to Vegas. I was all smiles that day because I was feeling great and ready to get back out in the public fuzzy head and all. That weekend I was going to Vegas for the weekend again, it was also General Conference weekend. While I was at the new home in Vegas I got a text from my sister Jamie telling me that I could now serve a mission. WHAT? This was huge news for anyone who is LDS because now men could go on a mission as early as 18 and women could go when they reach 19. I had always said that if they ever changed the age for missions I would seriously consider going on a mission, but now the state that I am in I don’t know if they would even let me go until after my five year mark. I am still debating on going, but there is something that’s pulling me and telling me to not go…yet. I was screaming when I heard the news. I was upset, jealous, happy, jealous, anxious, oh and jealous! I know I still have time to think things over, but there is still a part of me that just wants to leave tomorrow and never come back. To live in service has always been a dream of mine, I’m not very good at it right now and I want to change that and a mission could help me achieve just that and more.
I started back to work the beginning of October. I’d like to say it was like it used to be, but it wasn’t. I wasn’t the supervisor anymore, sometimes it’s hard to see how easily I can be replaced even though I worked so hard to get there and always striving to be my best and having everything stripped away because I got sick. Most of my good friends were gone from the company and I was stuck having to start over as if I was new, but it was worse because most of my co-workers that had started new after I was on leave acted annoyed of my reappearance. This wasn’t where I belonged. Getting my social life was going to be something really hard to get back into.
 I did not expect things to be the same when I came back, but I also didn’t expect to feel like the underdog from my peers. No one really reached out to me and I was too scared to approach the people I didn’t know because of the stares I would get, so I clung to the few people who knew me and were friends with me.
I wanted a new start after everything so I thought I would move with my mom to Las Vegas on the 20^th. On October 19^th I had quit Ingram Medical after two years.

Surgery Week

That Saturday the 22nd of September we moved to Las Vegas, boy what a trip it was. With the moving truck, it took us around nine hours to get there; my butt was definitely bruised by the time we got to the house. Okay, I lied we didn't move to Vegas really, more like the giant city of Henderson, which is about 45 minutes from the strip.
When we got there we expected to be able to move our furniture in right away, but that wasn’t the case since the painters weren’t finished painting parts of the house. Since my dad had been living in Las Vegas, he got acquainted with the new ward and met people who were willing to help us move into the house. If it wasn’t for them then we probably would’ve been moving everything in till past midnight.
While everyone was moving heavy furniture I was in the empty area taking care of Jamie’s son Tyler. I was still not strong enough to do any lifting so I was the babysitter. I would’ve loved to help, but I knew better than to push my luck. While I was babysitting I was told to put him to bed, I was reminded that he would cry and I should just let him cry for a little while and he would eventually fall asleep. Hearing that kid cry almost broke my heart, he sounded like I abandoned him! I don’t know how mothers do it. As much as I wanted to comfort that little boy I knew that his sleep was more important at the moment. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever be a good mother someday. After the move, everyone left to head back to Utah. Even my mom and I left my dad, who stayed at the new house. My mom still had unfinished business to do like for example an important surgery to attend to!
The day had finally come when I got to have surgery to take my uncomfortable port out! On September 25^th I was scheduled to get it removed. This surgery was making me a bit nervous, because I didn’t want another day full of vomiting. I recognized some of the same people in the operating room who put that port in me, and now they were going to remove it. The next thing I know my vision is getting shaky and blurry and I’m out. When I woke up I was feeling so good! Not the “good” feeling that you get when you win an award, but the good feeling when you’re in the middle of a good dream where you’re flying through the clouds and nobody can bring you down. In fact, I was not feeling sick at all. Actually, I was really hungry and feeling a little energetic, but yet I was so tired I could’ve slept for days.

On my way home I asked my mom to stop by Carl’s Jr. to get some food that I was craving; now I have hardly ever been to Carl’s Jr., but there I was slobbering over this hamburger. I don’t even know how I thought of Carl’s Jr. in the first place, but when I ate it I was on cloud nine. Ever since that day I have always loved hamburgers from Carl’s Jr. When I finished the food I went straight to bed and heard people every now and again, but refused to wake up because I was extremely exhausted. I slept all day long till it was dinner time then I slept all night, it was the best sleep I had ever had. This surgery was the best I’ve ever had in my life mostly because I didn’t end up vomiting.

Later that week my mom had her scheduled surgery to remove her breast cancer. I was very anxious and nervous for this surgery. When she came home she was a bit loopy and outgoing, but still herself. She was doing really well for someone who just got out of surgery, so I was surprised when she said she would go to her cousin’s wedding that night. We didn’t stay very long but it left us on a positive note for the week.

Cancer Strikes Again

That weekend in Vegas was a real stepping stone in my improvement. We were leaving Vegas on a good optimistic note, well until we got a phone call. My dad was at his place in Vegas checking on where we were every couple hours, we expected the call to be from him, but it wasn't. Before our little trip my mom had a couple mammograms, she wasn't too worried about the outcome but you never know when you'll get an unwanted gift.
The person to tell us the results from the mammograms was actually a very sweet lady in our church ward. Now back to the phone call we got, she informed my mom that she actually had cancer. What a joke! My sweet loving mother who battled with me because of my luck to have cancer would now have to battle breast cancer. why? Why my family? I never questioned God as to why I had to go through cancer, but my mom? She doesn't deserve this, how could this be happening?
I wasn't angry, I was beyond frustrated. My mom always told me what most mothers always say "If I could take this burden and place it on my shoulders instead, I would" Was God toying with my emotions? I was fine that he gave cancer to me, but don't hurt my sweet mother she's been through enough this past year!
 I remember glancing at my mom when  I was just diagnosed with cancer, and I saw her cry but I didn't. Then here I was in the car driving back to Utah stunned and crying because I never wanted my mom to experience any measure of what I had to go through. Luckily, it was determined as a pre-cancer, but to me cancer is cancer, I'm just happy they caught it so early. This next week was very rough on her, she was recently diagnosed with cancer while her husband was away and now she had to finish packing and move everything to Vegas by the end of the week.
My mom was pretty easy going about the whole cancer situation, she told everyone that she now had proof that stress(me) can lead to cancer. She kept telling me that it's not as bad as what I had to go through, but it's still not okay to me. Why her? Why my family? Don't get me wrong, I would never wish it on anybody but I take it very personally when my family is involved. So far, the year of 2012 is the worst year for my family.

Messengers of God at Target

My dad as an IT man got a job that was located in Las Vegas, so he finally took the offer and was working on selling our home in good old West Jordan. My parents decided to sell the home by owner so when my dad put the house on sale on KSL we weren't expecting to sell it as fast as we did, but we got an offer on the house within 24 hours. The next move was to find a house in Vegas that would be good for not only my parents, but for visitors and for my grandma to stay in. I was unable to go with my family to vegas when they were looking at the homes, but from what I heard they were not having the best luck. Since my dad was already living at an old home in Vegas he was still looking while my mom was in Utah working and taking care of me.
My hardworking mom turned into slave overnight working day and night to do everything before the big move. She packed the whole house herself while working full time, and making sure I had my pain medicine every four hours. I know this was not easy for her, she had to leave all her family and friends in Utah to go to a state she doesn't even like, and had to transfer to a job where customers yell at her all day. It's not something she planned on ever doing, but she did it because she loves my dad, she loves our family. She may have become a slave in the work but she was a hero in my eyes. She put her family before herself, she works hard and honestly. She's been through Hell and back and still comes out strong.
I was finally physically able to go on a trip with my mom to see my dad in Vegas on September 15th. I wasn't at all expecting how hard it was to walk all over the place. Now keep in mind, we didn't do a lot of walking, but for me it seemed like a lot of walking, by the end of each day I was exhausted because I was so out of shape. Sometime during the weekend we stopped off at Target when we were there a woman came up to me and very sweetly asked if I had a certain disorder or a disease that doesn't allow me to grow hair in certain areas on my head. I replied that I was more bald in certain spots on my head because of chemotherapy and radiation. She only asked because of her daughter, in fact she was somewhere in the store.
When we got to the cashier she was there with her ten year old daughter and she wanted her daughter to meet me. Her daughter would wear a wig because she was insecure about her bald head, but when I saw her she was looking up at me with the biggest smile on her face! She then took off her wig and her mom explained to me what they thought. I was so used to not wearing my wig and staying bald that I didn't realize what effect I had on other people, I just thought wigs were itchy, hot, and uncomfortable. But here I was in a random Target being told I was being a good role model for her daughter just because I was wearing my baldness proudly. I was shocked and humbled by hearing this, it's something I could never forget. Sometimes we are messengers of God and not even know it.

Stand Up To Cancer

Since my body was starting to heal my hair finally started to grow, when I first got my hair my head was like a fuzzy peach. I still had some major bald spots in the back of my head that hadn't grown hair yet, but I was growing hair again! I asked my mom what my hair was like when I was a baby and she only told me that I had always had hair, so technically this was the only time I've ever been bald. My left eye didn't have any eyelashes on the top or bottom, and since my eye looked a little sunken in I thought I would purchase some fake eyelashes for both eyes so I would match just a little. Well, I tried the eyelashes and they weren't easy to put on without real eyelashes. I only used it a couple times, but when I did it was a sloppy job so I stopped using the eyelashes.

To torture myself through another emotional rollercoaster I decided to watch the "Stand Up To Cancer" program on September 7th. I never used to listen to these stories, I knew that cancer was terrible and people had to go through a lot. I even knew people who had cancer or other diseases and other trials and tribulations. But being a patient yourself is a whole different story, cancer was a wake-up call. People aren't just suffering, people are dying. This disease has become more of an epidemic, something is not right for so many people to suffer like this.

We as the natural man don't put ourselves in others' shoes unless it becomes personal, whether someone we love is going through something hard or it be ourselves. Why is it that we just don't care about strangers or others we don't understand to just let them suffer? We as patients and troubled people expect to hear encouragement from our loved ones, but we really think and are motivated by the people who don't know us, because they did it out of their way. They are the saints that make a difference in the world one person at a time. I encourage people to help their family and loved ones, but I would advise to help a neighbor you don't know, a co-worker you don't usually talk to, or someone you don't know. Everyone is battling some kind of trial. Everyone needs someone to talk to or just a friend.

Everytime I hear a story about someone suffering from a scary disease like cancer I have to listen to the story, because I am more understanding as to what they have to go through or gone through. My experience is different from anyone else's, but I like to look back on my life and hear about how familiar other people's problems are to mine.

A Bruised Butt, Gelato, and Drool.

Life was finally turning around I was able to go to church and even went to my cousin's bridal shower. Okay, I wasn't in perfect shape when I went to the bridal shower, but HEY I got out of the house and did something that wasn't going to the doctors. At this point I was still having a hard time eating, and when it came to sweets, well forget it they were too strong or too rich I hated eating anything sweet. It was all about the salt, eating things like chips and fries. I was constantly craving fries! It was so good to get out of the house, but since I was so used to my reclining chair at home I was used to having a cushion on my butt. When I sat on a hard chair I could feel my butt getting bruised. I was so uncomfortable sitting in the chair and my family noticed. I was complaining a little to my mom and aunt that my butt hurt. My aunt Amy was so sweet to bring in some blankets for me to sit on after she laughed about my boney butt. Of course on my way home I asked my mom to stop off to get me some french fries. Mmmm food!

August 30th I went out with my sister and nephew for some gelato, another exciting day because I got away from home. I was still taking my gatorade bottle with me everywhere because I was nervous to leave the house without my drink in case I needed it, and let me tell you I always needed it! I don't remember what the name of the gelato place we went to, but It was freezing in there. It would make sense as to why it would be cold, but it was worse when I started eating the gelato. When we got outside in the heat I wanted to be back in the cold building.

Ever since I got my feeding tube out I tried sleeping in my bed, and it was so hard getting used to sleeping in a flat bed. For the first couple weeks it would make my ears throb and make me kind of nauseated. I was still not able to swallow my saliva by then, so I would sleep with my tissues if I needed them and I would wake up with my shirt wet because I had drooled. But the night of August 30th I tried to swallow my saliva and I didn't get sick! It was still thick but it was getting better. I finally got some good sleep when I knew I could swallow my own spit, this was a huge step for me. I didn't realize how grateful I was for the ability to swallow. Before I had cancer it was as easy as breathing and now it's never been as easy for me. To this day I still struggle with swallowing, but I'm so happy I can!

A Little Loss For A Big Gain

As many of you already know, I am a Latter Day Saint Christian. I was born in this faith with good parents who taught me the gospel. I grew up learning about the Book of Mormon along with the Bible, and The Pearl of Great Price.To this day I believe in our modern day prophet, Thomas S. Monson. I don't drink alcohol or coffee, and I don't smoke, have tattoos, or dress immodestly. It is because I grew up in the church that I had learned these things, but I obey these commandments because I have faith in it. I'm not perfect but that only makes me human. I could go on in what I believe and express longer how much I love the gospel, but the reason I wanted to share this was background information for what I am about to tell you.

Every sunday at church I would take the sacrament and when I was a kid it was my least favorite hour on sunday because I thought all the speakers after taking the sacrament were dreadfully boring. As I got older and actually paid attention to the speakers and the sacrament became more meaningful to me, it became the hour I didn't want to miss. I'm not saying this because it's an expected answer of a good mormon girl. I'm saying this because I've re-evaluated my life. 

When I became diagnosed with cancer, I was never mad at God I accepted it and moved on. How could you hate someone who is just trying to show you something important. I know God had no intention of hurting me, but I think he knew I was strong enough to handle it and come out better than I was before. When I was going through chemo and radiation I couldn't go to church, so how was I supposed to get the sacrament? Luckily for a week or two I had some nice men come to my house who blessed some bread and water for me. Unfortunately, as the effects of chemo and radiation took a hold of me I couldn't even swallow so I had to go without the sacrament for a couple months.
I truly believe that you don't realize what your missing till it's taken away from you. In this case it was taking the sacrament, it meant so much to me when I got to return August 26th to church. I didn't hold anything back, so when I took the sacrament I did cry and it felt so good to feel apart of the church again. Even through all the pain, heartache, and effects I was still feeling it gave me some peace. I am so proud of myself for never giving up on my faith and my values.