Tough Truth

Dealing with cancer in the family is tough. Isn't that pretty obvious already?

We give lots of love to each other, but there are moments when it's hard. And we can't help but pour out.

We get angry, frustrated, and irritated. At times, we feel hopeless. These are unwanted, but real feelings. 

People who are not dealing with cancer feel these things. How much more us?

We are not always positive and spiritual. There are stuff that we say and and do sometimes that fall short of being inspirational. 

I believe we can't be truly positive if we don't acknowledge the "negatives". 

Through acknowledging them, we are able to deal with, and possibly fix them. Then we are enabled to truly live good lives, instead of letting the bad things stay, and rot in us in the guise of staying "positive", and we end up giving out fake smiles, fake words, fake spirituality.....fake lives.

Rather, let our lives lovingly express truth [in all things, speaking truly, dealing truly, living truly]. Enfolded in love, let us grow up in every way and in all things into Him who is the head. Ephesians 4: 15

In all honesty, this same love can get really passionate. And it can make some people uncomfortable. But it happens. We work on dealing with things better, but difficult, emotional, and "loud" moments happen, because people in these hard situations care deeply. 

This part in My Sister's Keeper is so real and it does happen to a family dealing with cancer.

Here's another scene from The Big C....

For those who take it against us that we lose it at times, sorry that you have been inconvenienced by what we are going through. Sorry that you are offended by our reality. 

People always have a choice to mind their own business. 

I am not encouraging some wild behavior but I personally accept and even appreciate when people lose it or break sometimes. It's at those times when truth comes out. Tough, but truth nonetheless.

Truth sets free. Then, we move on to lives with more love, joy, peace, and amazing, excruciating, but powerful truth.

Love this scene,

Mother's Day

Mother's day was such a big treat for me, after having gone through three days of feeling low. 

The family, Doods and my girls, woke me up with a bouquet of beautiful flowers and heartfelt letters. One good thing about having daughters is that they have a lot of words to express their feelings. I am so grateful to see them grow up emotionally and spiritually by reading their messages. These are excerpts from their letters:

Andi

Thank you, Mommy for being there for me all the time and for all our fun talks. Thank you for teaching me lessons no one else could. I will always be your baby....

Toni

You....take care of us and....remind us about things you shouldn't even be reminding us about. So thank you! Love you so much! I know God is going to heal you soon.

Joey

P.S. You and Daddy are wonderful parents. You always make us laugh.

Doods

I'm happy to see you more independent but I still want to take care of you. You are very special to me and the girls. 

Next was a wonderful service at my home church, Victory Malolos. It feels good to be appreciated with all the other mothers who have done and sacrificed a lot to take care of their children.

The highlight for me was hearing my eldest daughter speak to the congregation about how our situation teaches her important things. These are what she said: 

- Our moms take care of us, comfort and love us....sometimes we forget they need to be loved, taken care of, and comforted too.

- We should never let go of our faith in Jesus. However difficult our situation is, we have to hold on because He is in control.

- Cherish every moment we have with our moms. Some people forget to appreciate what they have until it's gone.

Then, she sang, while volunteers gave out roses to the moms. 

What blessed me the most is to see her live out God's plan for her life. I strongly encouraged her to speak for the special occasion (when she already turned down the request), so she could be a blessing to other people, and to overcome her fear. I am so happy that she did. What a great gift for Mother's Day. 

Chica Therapy

"Chica" means "a female friend" from a slang online dictionary, which explains the title. 

I'd like to take this time to honor my chicas :) and remember those times I've spent with them. Looking at these pictures warm my heart and make me smile. 

My girl friends :) shown below have all been sources of encouragement, strength, wisdom, laughter and a lot of other things that are contributing to my overall well-being. 

Some are old friends. Some are new. 

I am particularly grateful for rekindled friendships; for relationships that have gone deeper, and for the new ones, but have been sources of sound advice and strength. All have been my constant support.

And when I say "support", it isn't to be merely nice. It means so much to me, like how it would mean to a dying tree that needs support for its uprooted trunk. It is the kind that lightens or lifts up a heavy burden. 

For all I have been shown and given, I am truly grateful.

The last two letters represent those who have extended their kindness all the way from the US and Australia. 

There are still so many who aren't here but have sent me and my husband messages expressing their love and generosity of heart. 

With all of these in front of me, should I really hate cancer?  Or should I be grateful for it, for all the open doors, and windows :) it has provided for me to have wonderful and even better relationships? 

To all my chicas, cheers! May God's blessings be poured out on you like how you all have been sources of His to me. 

Healing does come in different ways.

Cancer Perks

 

Please don't judge me after this post. There is this thing that we call, "cancer perks" at home. 
It's something my children came up with and we all laugh about it. 

Cancer perks mean, I am not expected to do house work, can sleep the whole day, and when I ask for something, like food, or something I want for us to do as a family, as long as it's within reason, my husband buys or does it for me. To be honest, I enjoy this a lot. Haha

One patient talked about the time he was just diagnosed with lung cancer. He started to enjoy life. He drove his Benz up a mountain, enjoyed the view and wind, and drank his red wine. "Ang sarap mag-ka-cancer," he continued to say. 

Cancer patients are encouraged to take fun seriously. We are urged to truly live, and live to the fullest; to do what we've always wanted to do. We are not looked at in a weird way when we cry, get scared, or have emotional breakdowns.

Cancer perks. :)

At home, we only have one helper. We call someone from time to time to clean and work in the garden. We bring our clothes to a laundry shop. So it's pretty manageable. I've chosen this system at home, so we are all more encouraged to move and do chores, especially my children. 

When I was well and strong. I did some of the housework; cooked, washed the dishes, gave the dog a bath, and picked leaves in the garden, and a few more things to help out our helper and Doods. 

This time, though I still do a few things at home, I really am not expected to do anything, except to work on getting well, strong, stable, and happy.

Cancer perks! 

I take this as an opportunity to train my girls as well, to be more responsible at home. The things I used to do are now passed on to them. There are certain chores assigned to them. And they are not only taught to do these things, but to do them willingly, even cheerfully. 

It isn't always easy to motivate them to work around the house. But more and more they are learning. When they see me just sitting while they do work, they all jokingly say, "cancer perks." Inside, I giggle. 

On Being A Parent

When I just had Andi, my 17-year old, I became a more cautious driver. You see, I loved driving fast.

"I am already a mom, I gotta take care of me. I can't put my life at risk. Somebody has to take care of that baby."

When becoming a parent, you just become more aware that you're life is no longer just for yourself but for the people God entrusted you with.

There was even a time in our parenting when Doods and I (we learned this from our head pastor, and we just thought it made a lot of sense) wouldn't board the same plane. He took one flight and I, another, just to be sure that if anything tragic should happen, there'd be one parent left to take care of our toddlers. 

I just couldn't take the thought of young children not having anyone to parent them. How much more, our own? 

I guess, you become much more aware of your value when you've already lost your own parents. 
You long for their guidance. You wish you have those sharing their wisdom with you. You hope that there are those that are after your best interests. They are your parents. 
Based on my experiences, they really are the only ones looking out for you 100%. The others, and I am not faulting them for this, are just taking care of themselves, or looking out after their own families. They make room for you, but in the end, they go to their own families. It isn't wrong. It isn't sad. It's just a fact of life. That is where they belong.

However, God has been teaching me who we can call our true family, and who truly looks out for us 100%. Doods and I have been adopted...more of this in another post....

So, as a parent and mom, I know that one of my responsibilities, among so many other things, is TO SIMPLY BE THERE, for my children; TO BE AVAILABLE, to give advice, give love and comfort, to be their first teacher, nurse, and minister. It really is the most fulfilling job.

What do I do now when my most important job is being shaken and threatened to be cut short? It really is an on-going question. 

What now when you are faced with a life-threatening sickness? When the assurance of staying with your kids in every stage of their lives is taken away from you? (But who really has that assurance, anyway?)

My goal is to stay for as long as I can. To stay sane despite all the medicines, so I can still be there and communicate with my family. What is the point of living if there really is nothing more I can do?

What comforts me is to know God has always been and will always be there. Even if I go, He, the perfect parent, will be there for my children, just as He did, and is still doing for me.
I know this may be hard for some to understand. But when you've experienced a great loss, something supernatural happens, if you choose to have faith. 
I still get counseled, provided for, protected, and led to live a good life, not perfect, but good. These things may come through friends, other family members, sometimes, even from people I've never met. I believe, it is because God, my Father, makes ways. 

Psalm 27:10

"For my father and my mother have left me, and the LORD has taken me up."

There is hope for me. I am holding on to that.
More importantly, whatever happens, there is hope, a lot of it, for my children, because of God.

And this, gives me peace.

A Good Day

First, I'd like to say that a good day to me is actually, great. Yesterday was one of those days. 

I was able to spend my Sunday like how it used to be: Church, lunch out, and a movie. Yes, it was like how it used to be, BUT with a lot more joy and appreciation. I was thankful that I was able to stand and worship God, and listen to a preaching about how glorious it's going to be when we finally see Jesus; that I was able to spend time with my husband and children, enjoy lunch and a movie with them. 
Before yesterday, I would usually just stay home when there's something the family wanted and needed to do, like doing groceries together, dental appointments, and movies. It was very rare that I'd go out...good thing it's not very hard for me to just stay home. I loved being home, but I missed being out with my family. 

I got to do that yesterday and it. Was. Good. It was great! Seeing Andi, my eldest, do her job as one of the worship leaders; see her grow in what God wants for her; see Toni grow up to be one fine lady; see how thoughtful and selfless she's becoming; see Joey smile and laugh because she's just having so much fun, and see my husband just relieved that I'm in a better state. I guess, everybody was having one fine day; a piece, a taste of heaven on earth.  

Hmmm.....and that's what I really want to talk about: the movie we watched, Heaven Is For Real.

I love that they didn't make it look or sound like they're preaching. I love that it was simply about life. 

I love that the actors made it look real. They showed genuine emotions for the situations they're in. They showed real living; dealing with bills, parenting, marriage, friendships, work; how living can be so confusing and painful at times, but in the midst of all the doubts, pain, and fear, people still hold on to their faith. 

I love that it boldly, but humbly talks about something that people usually avoid, death...heaven...Jesus. I guess we are at a time now, wherein so many of us recognize our great need of God. And we are not ashamed to admit and talk about it. That is definitely, good.

Loss is a part of life. What we need is to have that hope that it doesn't end here; that something beautiful awaits us, and the people we've lost aren't really gone but are living gloriously with our Lord. Isn't that amazing? I am thankful to be reminded of that once again through the movie. 

I love that in the end, there was a reminder that seeing the smile of a child, feeling the love of a mom or dad, are pieces of heaven on earth. We see those things and so, we believe that heaven is for real. 

Yesterday, as I was enjoying watching my family, I got a glimpse of heaven. This line became even more real to me, "...on earth as it is in heaven." 

Richard Glickstein talks about the power of prayer.

Christine Caine talks about the hope we can have if we believe.

Have a good day.....a great day, by being thankful for the simple things TODAY, and for the days to come!

Hello Injections

"The little foxes are ruining the vineyards..." from the Song of Solomon, is the verse I'd use to describe the injections I get regularly. They are those little irritants that could possibly ruin my determination to survive this whole thing with cancer. 

I have probably gotten hundreds of them already, for blood tests, scans, chemo infusions, and the other procedures needed. It is a lot easier now than when I just started with my treatments. 

I now get blood drawn from my left foot for my regular blood tests because of the mastectomies I got for both sides to avoid complications. It isn't as painful as the doctors and nurses described it to be. I still ask them to count though, so I can prepare myself and inhale to make the procedure more tolerable. I still hold Doods' hand to gather strength and courage. 

I used to hate injections, and dreaded it so much. I never thought I'd be spending my life, at present, dealing with it on a regular basis.

                       

There were nurses in the past that gave me such a hard time. 
There was one, to cover up her incompetence most likely, who said right away that it was going to be hard since I already had chemo. She quickly assumed my veins had already collapsed. Because of her negativity and fear probably, she pricked me several times but still wasn't able to access any vein - one of those hospital visits that I wanted to punch someone in the face. She quickly blamed my treatments when I never had any problems with injections before. She had to call a more competent nurse eventually. This second nurse didn't have any problem with the procedure at all.

Another one, a nurse who's overconfident, quickly pricked me without doing the usual tapping to get the veins out. When she couldn't access, she imagined that I kept moving. I couldn't tell her, "I've done this a million times. I am already used to staying still...." Doods could only give her his blazing look. Again, somebody else had to replace her to access a vein. 

I am so grateful that in Cardinal Santos, and this isn't an advertisement, the nurses I've encountered there are all well-trained. I never had any problems with any of my injections there. Even with my chemo infusion through a port, when I felt getting stabbed before, it wasn't much of a problem there. 
Nurse Veejay....I have to mention her name 'cause I'm so grateful for her.....made it so easy for me. She did it with such precision and quickness that I didn't feel any pain. 

Why am I writing about this? 

My seemingly insignificant experiences with injections are a big part of my life now that it matters. It takes strength and grace from above to find the positive in something that causes me pain. It really is nothing compared to refusing to deal with cancer and just letting it take over my body. 

It has become easier for me as well to comfort my daughters when they  are facing something terrifying. I tell them, "It's ok. This is nothing. You are strong. You can do this."