Life in the bottle lacks knowledge.

I think folks who never get the opportunity to have children definitely live longer lives, have more money, and much less gray hair than those of us who so optimistically and naively enter the hallowed vocation of parenting. However, having children enables a parent to have a unique insight, in a very tangible way, of how God loves us as His children. When your children are brand new and precious, their "book of life" has pages that are clean and unsmudged with the messiness of life that always seems to accumulate with time, being that we are all sinful and fallen creatures. It's easy to love them. After all they look like us, but they haven't screwed up like us, so we envision that their lives will be different than ours. We will keep them from making mistakes, because now we are experts in avoiding missteps on the road of life.

About the time middle school happens, we discover that these precious and wonderful children have begun to make choices that have you as a parent asking, "What have we spent the past decade doing? How is it that we have failed so miserably to communicate our values to our children?" The scrapes you got into as a child/teenager pale in comparison to the escapades your children now create. As the mother of 5 very active, competitive boys (4 are now grown), I was hit squarely between the eyes with these aliens about the time they turned 14. What happened to my obedient and polite sons? As my husband and I juggled the hurt and disappointment, and we continued to guide our children through the remaining years they were at home, I realized, for the first time, the absolute hurt and disappointment that God, utterly holy and righteous as He is, must feel when we as His children make a total hash of the choices we opt for in life. How all-encompassing His love must be that when we were so unlovely and unworthy, He sent His son to die for us, so that we could have a life truly worth living. How through His example we can feel freedom to love our children warts and all.

Now son #5 is entering the "alien years". I hope we will have the tenacity to endure those years one more time. These are things I do know: There is nothing more predictable than the wickedness and sinfulness that permeates the unregenerate human nature. There is nothing more wise than parents who know that they lack the knowledge and wisdom to raise their children. There is nothing more reassuring than knowing our omniscient God will provide wisdom when ask, and help us love our children as He, by perfect example, shows His love for us.

Life in the Bottle needs His wisdom.

Life in the Bottle is challenging.

This has been such a trying week. I have had to make difficult decisions about several things, and realize that those things are not likely to change soon, if at all. Learning to live with the things I can't change is a lesson I have been struggling with all week. Casting crowns has a song "Praise You in the Storm". That is my goal for this next week. I don't know God's timetable for the storm that is our life right now, but I hope to have a tangible realization of His presence for the duration.
Life in the Bottle is challenging.

Life in the Bottle is nostalgic.

In just a few days number four son, Jordan, will go out into the world to seek his fortune. This has been a very busy Spring of changes: my cancer diagnosis and surgery, David's job loss, Jonathan's marriage, etc. One more item to add to that growing list: Jordan is grown up and leaving home for the Navy. He will leave on Monday, and as with the three that preceded him, a part of my heart will not be the same again.
I would not want to change the fact that he will begin his adult adventure away from us. That is the way of life; however, I also know that nothing will ever be the same as before, when he was still a child at home. I treasure the memories of him a few minutes old- the peace and contentment that I felt just holding him after the 3 lost babies in the years before he was born and the difficult months carrying him. The time spent most mornings rocking in the rocker/recliner when he was a toddler. The pride I felt as he progressed through the different belts in Karate to become a junior black belt. The surprise I felt to enjoy so thoroughly his swim meets and water polo matches, being that I have such a love for football. The joy I felt as I watched him graduate with honors in May last year. He has been the quiet achiever. He greatly admires his older brothers, and has tried to follow in their footsteps. However, he is most accomplished when he makes his own path. He has been accepted by the Navy for Nuclear School upon completion of Basic Training in Illinois. I wish the very best for him, but I woke last night thinking of him, not as the grown-up he sees himself as, but the adorable red-headed little boy that needed me to watch over him.
This Mother's Day will be a little bit sad.
Life in the bottle is nostalgic.

Life in the Bottle gets complicated.

Today was my first visit with my oncologist. In my mind, we would review all the reports beginning with the initial mammogram, MRI, biopsy, and through the mastectomy. Then, the doctor would give me a prescription to begin the anti-hormone therapy for the next 5 years. Well, it's more complicated than that. I should have known, as every part of this cancer journey has been very different than our pre-conceived notions. I will be having a bone scan, CT scans with and without contrast, PET scan, and genetic testing that has a fancy name which escapes me now. All of this is scheduled in the next 2 weeks. After the test results are in, the treatment plan will be finalized, and chemo is not off the table as I originally was told. The thought of having to go through chemo therapy and then begin the anti-hormone treatment is more than I can deal with right now; especially, as I will have to continue to work while having the treatments. Because I am a young breast cancer patient (this is one time it doesn't pay to be young), the oncologist is concerned that I have an increased chance of developing additional cancer. Best case scenario is that our insurance company will okay this fancy genetic testing ($4000), and the test results show minimal chance of the cancer coming back.
Life in the bottle is complex.

Life in the Bottle has an unexpected interruption.

I had planned to go back to work in mid-April working only a couple of days a week, but life is what happens while you’re making plans. David was terminated from his job at the Kennedy Space Center after 15 years, effective last Friday. We’re still trying to wrap our minds around the fact that David has worked there with extremely good evaluations and reviews for 15 years. We are now facing quite a dilemma, because our health insurance will end the last day of March. I am still early into my cancer treatment and reconstruction. To enable me to continue medical treatment, we must maintain a Cobra policy. David is still trying to find out all the details necessary to make that transition seamless, but one thing is very clear. I need to go back to work as soon as possible, and I need to go back full-time. I will go back to work on March 31st.
One of the enduring strengths of my marriage has been that when life is the roughest, David and I pull together. We will get through this mess also, but my heart hurts for the unfairness of it all. I truly believe that God is not surprised by these events, and His purpose will be accomplished. If I didn’t hold those facts close to me, I couldn’t get up in the morning.
Life in the bottle has an unexpected interruption.

Life in the Bottle is blessed.

One week following the most dramatic event in my life(a mastectomy and removal of the sentinel node), I am convalescing at home, glad it is this week, not last week! This "bend in the road" has been full of challenges, pain management dilemmas, and the struggle with pride at being so utterly dependent on others for physical care. However, this same "bend in the road" has also revealed that my circle of friends is much larger than I ever dreamed, my family does "get it", and my husband is bucking for sainthood. Never in my life have I had such an outpouring of love and support by so many of those who are family, friends, and co-workers. Meals have come in all week, and we are scheduled for another week of meals. Phone calls, cards, emails, and flowers have arrived daily. My Mom has waited on me hand and foot. My children check on me (what a concept!). My husband lovingly helps me with all the "humiliating" personal assistance I require. He is so cheerful, and the inconvenience never appears to impact him in the least.
As I reflected on the last week, I realized that I am completely and utterly blessed in all the important facets of my life. My final cancer report was as good as it gets clinically. Except for the fact that my disease is cancer, the pathology findings couldn’t have been any better. My chances of long term survival are excellent. However, that is NOT the most important information I have learned this week. My realization of the overwhelming outpouring of love and support from all those around me has profoundly impacted forever the way I view my life. I am privileged to have more rich and valuable relationships than most people will have in a lifetime. Those relationships will define a "bend in the road" as either a struggle or a journey. Mine is a journey!
Life in the bottle is blessed.

Top 10 things NOT to say to a person just diagnosed with cancer!

10.Wow, really? What's for dinner?
(Who "really" cares!)

9.Oh, I've had biopsies before, and they're mostly benign.
(Hello, it didn't come back benign.)

8.How did your autopsy come out?
(Ok, stupid, it's a biopsy!)

7.When is your vasectomy
scheduled?
(That would be mastectomy, genius.)

6. You're stronger than you think.
(That may be, but strength is not what you're feeling in the immediate days following the diagnosis.)

5. You need to "buck up". Other folks have been through far worse than what you're facing.
(That's when you don't want to ever express feelings of apprehension to another soul.)

4.You need to just live in the moment and not worry about the future.
(Said by a person who doesn't understand the uncertainty of total chaos in the early days following the biopsy findings)

3. God has a purpose for everything.
(Indeed, as a Christian, I know that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Don't preach a sermon to the choir)

2. What are you so worried about? They caught it early.
(There are no band-aid surgeries with cancer. The treatments are life-altering.)

1. The surgery isn't that bad. You'll be just fine.
(Unless that's a personal testimonial, put a sock in it!!)

Some of these statements seem funny and almost ridiculous, but in the last week, all of them have been said to me by at least one person.

Advice from someone who knows:
The BEST thing to say to someone just diagnosed with cancer is:
I'm so sorry, and I love you. We'll get through this together. What can I do to help?

This informational blog has been brought to you directly from "Life in the Bottle".

Life in the Bottle hurts.

Yesterday was one of those days that marks a milestone in life. Cancer is a very scary word, and when it follows the words, "You have", it's even scarier. I know that since yesterday. I feel very torn wanting to be brave and strong and not a "wus", but at the same time, I want to just have the freedom to cry until the tears won't come anymore. Truly, if I look too far down the road, I am overwhelmed with the future. The many times in the past 24 hours that my family and friends have told me that they are praying for me are amazing and precious gifts. I need His strength, because by myself, I am too weak to face what lies ahead. Life in the bottle hurts... :o(

Life in the Bottle is surprising!

»Yesterday was not a good day in the bottle. I wasn't sure what would occur first, the nervous breakdown or heart failure. Fortunately, I am very blessed with a wonderful co-worker and friend who allows me to download my stress, and so avoid spontaneous combustion! Even so, the day was difficult...messed up bank accounts and the accompanying GF(grief factor) are definitely my "Achilles heel". Especially, when I wasn't the cause of the mistake, only the victim!! Anyway, mid afternoon, in walks my son, Jordan, was a cup of piping hot coffee from Starbucks for me. After I determined that he had not wrecked the car, flunked out of school, or lost his job, I asked him why he brought me coffee. He said that he knew I'd had a bad morning and thought I could use a cup of Starbucks. That's when I did cry!! He gave me a big hug and then went on his way. I never even knew 18 year old sons cared whether or not the momma was having a bad day! That one cup of coffee made my whole day and probably my whole week! Life in the bottle can sometimes be surprising in the nicest possible way!

Life in the Bottle is dirty!

I've been at a ladies' retreat all weekend! What a wonderful time of Bible study and renewal of the spirit was had by all. During the entire 2 hour trip home, the 8 women in our van attempted to prepare ourselves for the onslaught waiting at our homes ready to annihalate the "new" women we had become over our weekend with God. As we approached Orlando, our pastor's wife, Gayle, called her husband. He was out to lunch with David, so right off I knew the "laundry/maid fairy" had not come to my house while I was out! When I called him, he said that they hadn't gotten to every thing, but it would only take about an hour to finish up. Okay, I thought, at least I know it's not going to be perfect, that way, I can be prepared when I walk in the door. Unfortunately, even a "heads up" didn't prepare me for the mess when I got home. Fortunately, the pigs I live with weren't back from eating out when I saw their version of Animal House. There was no food in the house and laundry in various stages of processing everywhere. The dishes remained unwashed, but had increased in number. Empty soda cans and snack wrappers littered the family room and elsewhere. In the remainder of the house there existed a atmosphere of generalized clutter. I spent about an hour in a very calm, quiet manner--I struggled not to blow to the moon--in the end, I was able to come out of my disappointment without blistering the ears of my husband or other appropriate parts of my children's anatomy. My mind is still "renewed", but life in the bottle is dirty!!