Hey Cozy Fans! Thanks for your interest in helping my daughter with her fundraising efforts. Here is the link to her page. She will email after you make a tax-deductible donation to get your mailing address.
My niece called me from college last night. She’s a freshman and wanted to Facetime to show me her new dorm. She is beyond excited, but I wasn’t shocked when she admitted there were some tears as she moved into her new home. Kate called them happy tears. “I’m just so excited, Aunt Nicki!”
She should be. She’s doing something doctors swore couldn’t be done. As a NICU infant, they told her family that Kate wouldn’t survive. As an elementary aged child, she struggled just to get through a whole day at school. As a teen, living at the Mayo Clinic, she fought to regain her ability to walk and speak without a stutter.
Kate had a bigger plan. She wanted to go to college. So when she moved into her dorm last night, there were happy tears.
But there were also sad tears. Because standing next to Kate through many of those trials was her little sister. She likes having Kate at home. She wants her people together under one roof. While Kate’s heart is soaring, little Elena’s heart needs to heal.
I imagine many of us can relate.
I’m at that strange age where I have just as many friends dropping kids off at college as I do driving them to their first day of kindergarten. Two totally separate ends of the education spectrum, but I have to believe the feelings are sort of the same.
So proud… so amazed… so scared. What if they need me? Who will take care of them?
I took my own daughter to middle school this year. Did you know that the middle school hallways are filled with drama? I know. Strange. Things have changed so much since I was in school. (That was sarcasm.)
I would never want to be a teenager again, but I would switch places with her in a heartbeat if I could save her from even an ounce of hurt.
We all have someone we love so dearly and worry about so deeply. But parking in angst does no one any good, so what’s the alternative?
Perhaps we just need to remember one simple truth. He loves them more than you do. The One who made the special people in your life adores them, regardless of whether they love Him back or have run a great distance from their Creator.
My entire capacity to love is just a fraction of God’s love for them. He sees all, He knows all (even our deepest thoughts), and only He can redeem whatever may go wrong in their lives. In fact, it’s His specialty.
So what if instead of spending our energy on worrying, we spent it thanking God for our loved ones? Instead of contemplating all that could go wrong, we began proclaiming out loud the greatness of God? What if the words we speak are actually the truths we bring to life?
Imagine for a moment what that would look like… opening your mouth to say, “Hey guys, check it out! God’s about to do something amazing!”
I don’t know what that would do to the spiritual world, but I can tell you it would bring a whole lot more light to this hurting world and breathe a whole lot more hope into each day we get to spend here. Let’s give it a try and see what happens. After all, it worked for Kate.
I’d like to blame my morning fainting spell on low blood sugar, but I think it has more to do with my new nipple.
Tuesday’s surgery went really well. I was awake the whole time, the nurse pumped my favorite Christian music into the room, the procedure was fast and I didn’t feel a thing. Pretty perfect in my book!
At the very end, when the crew was getting me all bandaged up, I boldly looked down for a quick peek at my new body part. “Ugheew!” The noise that came out of my mouth was a mix between a groan and a scream. My doctor smiled. “Too soon?” he asked sympathetically. “This is the worse it will look. It gets much better from here.” I was thankful for the consolation.
Ten minutes later, sitting at a restaurant with my friend, Ann, I was happy to have the hard part behind me. Or so I thought.
Then today arrived. It’s two days after the surgery and the first day I get to take a shower. I sleepily stumbled into the bathroom.
I should have known it was going to be rough when I started crying just pulling off the surgical tape. The nipple and breast have no feeling, but the rest of the skin on my chest does– and that’s where they attached the tape. Think of ripping off a band-aid…. that’s been glued to your skin.
Tape off, I stood in front of the mirror and assessed the construction site. I felt a nauseous little flip in my stomach as my mind and my body registered what it was looking at. Again, I cannot feel my left breast, but even the idea of water hitting the wound sent me into a panic.
Determined to keep moving, I stepped into the shower.
It’s possible that was not my best yes of the day. The minute the water touched my skin I knew I was going down. I threw myself out of the shower onto the dry rug in an attempt to hit the ground before the ground hit me. I swallowed back the urge to vomit and took several deep breaths. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Help me. Help me. Help me.
When I felt stable enough to stand, I made sure I was facing away from the mirror.
Now, dry and ready for the day, I’m feeling great. I’m confident the skin on my breast will heal into something resembling a nipple. After all, the mastectomy healed and that looked like a complete train wreck. Maybe I’ll just stay away from mirrors for a while.
By the way, as I love to say, there is always a silver lining! I’m on restrictions for four weeks: no lifting more than 5 pounds for two weeks and no more than 10 pounds for two weeks after that. Also, no running, laundry, dishes or vacuuming. Life is good!