Ahh, the Irony.

"Isn't it ironic? Don't ya think? A little tooooooo ironic, and yeah I really do think?"

Go on....belt it out!!! You know you want to ;) 

The door to my radiation room. Find the irony yet?!?

It's going to help you they say...

It's going to save your life they say.....

Irony. 

...and then God sends perspective.

It's no surprise I have been down for the past week or so about radiation, and the effects it is having on my life both physically and emotionally. Well, last week I was walking into the radiation center, probably with a grouchy "this is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" kinda face, and I noticed an older gentleman walking towards the door as well. The following conversation was exchanged,  and most definitely placed for a purpose. That purpose might you ask? A gentle perspective lesson from my Heavenly Father. After all, He always knows what we need and when we need it, right? :)

Mr: "Another day? It gets tiring, huh?"
Me (realizing I need to try to be a Positive Patsy instead of my current Negative Nancy self <insert
          smile> )
      "Yes sir. This is my 20th, but it'll be ok!"
          (thinking to myself...You're being a pretty good little actress today <Pat on the back> Oooouch,
          too hard. Remember, this crap has given you a terrible burn!! Oh I hate radiation. Don't let this
          poor man know your real thoughts!)
Mr: "This is my third." 
Me (thinking to myself...Aww, poor newbie. He has no idea what he's in for. Just try to be positive to
          the poor fella. Bless him.)
      "Oh, ok. Well you hang in there, it's not that bad." 
Mr: "Oh, I don't mean my third treatment. This is my 3rd case of cancer. This is my 100th radiation 
      treatment." 

Perspective given.
Perspective received.

#Godiswritingmystory

Every. Single. Day.

*Disclaimer: Many have asked about my burns, and in an effort to continue my transparency through this journey we have been given, I have included a picture of a couple of my burns/blisters that are found under my armpit. I very much believe in modesty and, although now I ask myself "if I have no breasts, is it immodest to show my chest," I still decided I'd spare those pics. After all, I am still a lady ;) Anywho, if you have a weak tummy, you may not want to scroll to the last image. 

Radiation I have found, is not for the weak :) 

26 down. 10 to go.

#Godiswritingmystory

We were supposed to beat this.....together.

     I believe that everything in life happens for a reason. For instance, one of my friends lost her young niece to a car accident 6 years ago. At the time, we most definitely couldn't understand the 'whys' of her accident, but not even a year later, I understood. That same friend, who walked with her family through that loss, was then there for me as my family dealt with the loss of my sister-in-law, Susan, who also died unexpectedly at a young age. Because she had already walked the death of the young, she was able to give me words of strength in our time of grief. Eight years ago, another dear friend of mine began walking the weary road of a cancer diagnosis in the family when her daddy was diagnosed. Again, the 'whys' were not understood until June 3rd of this past year, when that sweet friend was the one that was sitting by my side as my phone rang with my own cancer diagnosis. In that moment, there was no other person that needed to be here with me more because she loved me and knew what was to come because she had already lived it. You see what I mean?? Everything happens for a reason, and God puts the perfect people in our lives, with the perfect life experiences, just when we need them.

     Today, I attended the funeral of one of those people. Ernest Hodges was diagnosed with cancer well over a year ago. Matt worked with him for many years and considered him a good friend, so immediately, our hearts sank with the 'whys' of such a young guy fighting cancer. Here he was, a young husband and father, and was fighting for his life. Fast forward to June of 2015, and the 'whys' of Ernest became more clear, because now, I too was a young wife and mother fighting for my life. Ernest instantly became another cancer role model for me, and when we talked for the first time after my diagnosis, I said to him, "We are going to fight this together?!" Ernest, with that huge, contagious smile said, "Yes we are!" and instantly, I believed him. I was filled with gratefulness for the strength he gave me in those words. And boy did we fight. All the while, comparing notes on how badly cancer stunk, our families rocked, and our Savior blessed.

     But now, we aren't. We don't get to fight together anymore. Although he is no longer infected with cancer, he never got to hear "no evidence of disease" with earthly ears. His sweet wife is grieving for one more sweet embrace with the man that God gave her as the leader of her young family. His sweet daughter is longing for someone, anyone, to bring her daddy back so that she can give him one more hug. His family and friends are wishing for one more contagious grin. I'm wandering this cancer battle land for one of my favorite side kicks.

     I think I know why Ernest got cancer...so that he could help others, like me, who would all too soon begin walking the treacherous cancer road as well. Thankfully, God used his story to help me find strength when I needed it the most. I don't know why I got cancer. I like to think that maybe, just maybe, someone, somewhere, is finding strength in my words for their own battle. And I pray to my Father above that there will be other life circumstances, and people, that will be brought into my life, just at the perfect times, so that I can hear their story and use it to understand the 'whys' of this tough world. I'm so thankful Ernest was one of those people for me.

     And just as I believe everything happens for a reason, I also believe it is in His time that we are given the ability to understand it, and so for right now, I don't guess we get to understand why Ernest couldn't win this fight. It is simply not the time for understanding. So I will grieve for Ernest, just as Christ also grieved while on this earth, and for today, I am going to allow myself to be upset over the 'whys.' Why couldn't we continue to fight together? Why couldn't we both be plugging on like a couple of warriors out to save the day? Why can't he be here to hold his wife and daughter one more time, or two or three or four more times? Why can't we see that contagious smile again? Why couldn't we beat this, together? I guess these are just 'whys' we will have to understand another day.

We love you Hodges family, and are in constant prayer for your comfort!