ITP #28: Sometimes we're so busy rushing around, that we don't pay attention to God's little cues until he hits us with a tsunami to get our attention. In this week's episode Anush goes from college days, to Skid Row to "shoe" her support for a dear friend. Listen in - Inside the Pomegranate.
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Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
20 January 2014
Life's Little Tsunamis
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Okay, so on to this week's adventures...or misadventures. I read a really cool quote somewhere. It said,
"Coincidence is just God being anonymous." I love that. Okay, so if you are a regular here Inside the Pomegranate, you know that my word for the year is SURRENDER. I'm trying to surrender things to God; meaning, that I'm trying to simplify and give up my control...not force MY will but to try harder and listen to the clues that God sends. Well, this past Monday, God sent me a clue...but I didn't get it. I was so busy trying to stay on schedule that I bypassed it until He had to stop me with a tsunami (literally) until I listened. This past Monday night, we had our Skid Row outreach scheduled. As always, we gather at church around 7:00 p.m., prep the soups, load the cars and we head downtown. And as usual, my husband and I bring the hot water in two five-gallon thermoses, ready to hydrate the cup of noodles that we serve. Well, it all started on Sunday when I got to church. One of our Parish Council members gave me the bad news. When they opened the storage shed at church, they saw rat droppings on the canopy, and on the thermoses as well. YUCK! So I brought the thermoses home, and gave them a scrubbing with bleach, cleanser, more bleach, hot water, and I cleaned them up. The following evening, I got home from work and started heating the hot water for the thermoses, and loading my car with the clothing I had collected. I noticed that this time around I had quite a bit of women's clothing. Although there are women on the streets, they are outnumbered by men by about 10 to one. Still, there were jeans and shirts and shoes that they could use, and whatever we don't distribute, we take to one of the shelters anyway. So I continued loading. The whole passenger part of the back of my car was full of clothing. Okay, that was done. Back into the house. The water's hot. I bring the thermoses to the kitchen...and poured the first batch of water into the thermos. As the steam clears from my glasses I notice that water is POURING out all over our kitchen floor! I grab the thermos, throw it in the sink. What happened? Well, in checking out the thermos further, I found that the rats had chewed the little rubber faucet thingee ...on both thermoses. Okay, so towels, clean up, I should have gotten the clue - Just call it off, and reschedule. But no. Not me. I'm too busy to realize stuff, right?
So panic. What am I going to do? It's almost 6:00 p.m. Ned's not yet home from work, we have to be down at church by 7:00. I filled up more water pots to boil, tell my mom that Ned will be home soon and have him turn the water off when he gets there. I get in my car and drive off to buy two more thermoses from Smart and Final. I get there, grab there 2 five-gallon thermoses, pay, rush home...Ned's home, the water's ready. It's 6:40. We poured the water in the thermoses, load them in the car, kiss mom goodbye and we're off to church. We're going to make it.
After that, I couldn't help but wonder why. Was something going on in downtown that night that we weren't supposed to be part of? Was there some danger? Or maybe there is something we're supposed to be part of on Thursday? Maybe they'll need us then? I wouldn't know that part. But I was kind of anticipating that I would find out in some way.
Thursday night came. The car was loaded again, the new 10-gallon thermos (with the screw on lid, thank you) was filled and off we went to church. We met up, loaded the cars and headed to downtown. The second stop we make is usually just a quick stop. So much so that we don't usually all get out. There are just a few people there and we do a quick food stop and head off to the next, more populated stop. But this time was different. Very different. This time the stop was a full stop because as we gave out the food to the usual few locals, more people started coming. We opened up completely and started distributing. And then we met Brenda. Brenda, a nurse, introduced herself as one of the case managers at the Women's Shelter that had just opened a few buildings down. She was thrilled that we had the women's clothing because she knew her residents would be able to use it. She asked if we could stop there, but given that we didn't know the number of residents and wanted to avoid not being able to supply all of them, I asked Brenda if she could ask her residents to come out. So for the next half hour or so, we were able to meet, feed and distribute clothing to these very nice women. And amazingly, we had quite a bit of women's clothing to give. We also had the little hotel toiletries that many had collected for us. Brenda and I exchanged information, and in the future, when we have the extra clothing for the women, you can be sure we'll know where to donate.
When we reached our last stop of the night, we were met with a lot of hungry people. They lined up for soup as we were in full force distributing water bottles and snacks as they waited. The two cars with the clothing where surrounded as needs were met. After about a half an hour, it seemed that most had been fed. We still got a few coming up for food, but most of the clothing and blankets had been distributed and things were winding down. A woman crossed the street toward us. She was friendly. She asked if we might have any clothing for her. And surprisingly, Sedma and Lida were able to find her a pair of pants. There was a dress that would fit her, and you can tell it took her back. She shared that this was just the kind of dress she used to wear. Our ladies told her to take it, with the hope that someday soon she'd be back on her feet again. And then she asked about shoes. Did we have a pair of shoes for her? We didn't. She shared how her feet had been bothering her. She had on a pair of old patent flats that had no support. They were too small and that caused a lot of problems with her heels. She the showed us poor foot. Her heal was cracked and sore and looked so painful. But this woman's disposition didn't reflect that pain. She stayed a while and chatted with us. I could tell that Lida was very moved by this woman's optimism. And before I knew it, Lida was in the car taking her shoes off. Not in front of the woman, but quietly on the side. She didn't want the woman to know she was giving her own shoes to her. She gave them to the woman who was so thrilled to have some supportive walking shoes. We gave her extra soup and water as well. She blessed us and headed back across the street.
Our time on the street came to an end. We received the blessings of our friends, and all that was left over was one small bag which we dropped off at the shelter. Driving back I usually recap the evening. I'm always in amazement as to how God puts us right where we are supposed to be. And I thought about the course of events that led up to Thursday night. How we were not meant to go on Monday but on Thursday. I had wondered why our plans were changed and had searched for the connection. And then it came to me. Yes, we had made new connections. Yes, we did have a disproportionate amount of women's clothing than we usually do and it came to good use. But I think I had it all wrong. I kept thinking the reason was going to be because we were going to be helping someone that really needed us on that night, but the reality is that WE were the ones that needed the help. After going on this ministry for the past six years, it was US that needed the reminder of the human connection, of how we are all sisters and brothers. We needed to be there on Thursday rather than Monday to be filled with compassion once again. We were all moved. Lida's heart was touched by this woman. Our In His Shoes ministry puts us in the shoes of others. As women however, we bond a little differently with the women on the street. Sometimes life throws us some crazy punches even when we have homes, jobs, families and support. Being a woman living on the street without these things makes it a hundred times more difficult. When we are there on the street, it helps us to understand how we are all related and how we all belong to one another. WE were the ones that needed to be right where we were, to accept God's beautiful blessing of love, compassion and sharing that night, to which we are so grateful.So there you have it. I'm going to try to be a little more in tune to God's will, and not my own, knowing and understanding that there are some plans in the works that I may be standing in the way off. I'm learning.
Before I finish up for today, I wanted to ask for your prayers for a friend of mine that has been diagnosed with Stage 4 esophageal cancer that has spread throughout her body. Her name is Jeri, and her doctors are giving her only two years to live. As grim as her prognosis seems, God is the ultimate healer, and the only one that can know her life. Jeri is a fighter, and is positive in light of the tough road ahead. She has started her chemo. And yesterday, her dearest friend had put out a "shoe your support" request, asking that those of use that were friends of Jeri's drop off a pair of our running shoes with a note to her. The shoes were put, quietly, on Jeri's lawn at midnight last night, so when Jeri woke up this morning, she saw the support of all those whose lives she has touched. Yesterday, I dropped off my shoes and seeing the box of shoes and notes, I was so filled with emotion. Cancer is a terrible thing. I have been blessed to have survived it three times. A group of over a hundred friends and family gather last night and quietly walked to Jeri's home and lined her walkway and her front lawn with the shoes. Over 250 pair will be donated to charity. My heart goes out to Jeri and can do is to pray, and believe. I ask you to please remember Jeri and her family in your prayers. Pray that God give her strength, courage, the willingness to fight and stay positive, and to BELIEVE in her wellness. her family, especially when it seems there is nothing we can do. The most amazing and powerful thing that we
That's all for now. Wishing you all a blessed week, with no tsunamis in your forecast!
12 September 2013
There's a Woman on This Street with Parakeets (Audio)
ITP #12: In Episode 12 of Inside the Pomegranate, Anush talks about the comfort in familiarity as it pertains to Team In Her Shoes’ participation in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer Santa Barbara. What do parakeets, signs, clappers, PINK, hills, and pain all have in common? Take a listen! It’s all Inside the Pomegranate.
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
Look for Inside the Pomegranate on BluBrry
Subscribe to Inside the Pomegranate by Email
Get Inside the Pomegranate on iTunes
Play Now:
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
Look for Inside the Pomegranate on BluBrry
Subscribe to Inside the Pomegranate by Email
Get Inside the Pomegranate on iTunes
Play Now:
There's a Woman on This Street with Parakeets
I'm sorry I'm a bit late getting this blog out. I haven't been feeling too well for a few days but I think I'm on the mend. If you follow my blog you know that I walked in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer this past weekend. We walked 39.3 miles. Our Team In Her Shoes raised an impressive $12,056. between the 6 of us that walked. We also had 9 team members on crew this year. My husband Neddy and Sugar's husband Zee, and another friend of ours crewed Pack Up. My sister and 3 of my friends (all past walkers) crewed food service. And Ani (yes, Ani Bubbles) and her friend Stephanie, were on the medical crew!
It was an amazing weekend, as it always is. This was my 10th time participating. And while I was on the route with Fr. Vazken, we were about to turn a corner on about mile 34 and I said, "There's a woman on this street with parakeets." And sure enough, we rounded the corner, walked down about 1/2 a block, and there they were. The parakeets. In a cage on the front lawn of a home, as it always has been in years past. And Fr. Vazken said, "That's what you should blog about. The familiarity of things and how it brings comfort."
It's true. I have done this amazing walk 10 times in my life. And most all of those times were in Santa Barbara. The first time I signed up to do the Avon Walk was back in 1998...when the walk was a 3 day walk where we traveled from Santa Barbara to Malibu - 60 miles - doing 20 miles a day. I was younger then. But I signed up that year to celebrate my 5 years of remission from breast cancer. I remember the walk fell right on my anniversary day - October 22. It was the day I finished my last radiation treatment 5 years prior, and they told me then that if I make it to 5 years without recurrence, you can consider yourself cured. So what better way to celebrate than to give back and do this walk. I walked alone that year, and along the way, I met survivors, and people that were walking in memory or honor of their loved ones. I met those battling cancer right at that time, with no hair, and scarves or hats. After spending the past 5 years worrying about recurrence, doctor's check ups, blood work ups, mammograms, this walk empowered me.
It elevated me. And I was hooked. I walked that same 3 day, three more times and then
took a break for a while. And then Avon announced that they were changing course and having a 2 day, 39.3 mile (Marathon and a half) instead. And I signed up...and I haven't stopped.
Looking back now...there definitely is a comfort there in the familiarity of the event. And because this experience has been so great for me, I wanted to share that experience with whomever wanted to join in. Last year we had 18 walkers, most of them first timers. I was the team leader and mother hen. I organized training walks, and fundraisers. I sent out packing lists and play-by-plays of what needed to be done. It was a lot of work, but what it did was make my walkers' first experience so memorable, that some of them signed up again for 2013. Maybe not to walk, but to support...to participate, to be there and stand up for the cause. And I so appreciate all their efforts. Because a walk of this proportion requires so many staff and logistics personnel to make things run smoothly. And my team was part of that as well.
I was thinking about what it is that makes this so familiar for me. I mean, it's a once a year event and there are 363 days in between to think about, but the feeling is so powerful and the impressions so vivid, that I thought I'd share with you.
There is familiarity in PINK. From the moment you arrive at Event Eve the Friday before the walk to the time you head home after the closing ceremony, you are surrounded in pink. Pink Ribbons, shirts, pink bubble gum, pink Reeboks, you name it, they have it in pink. You just know, year after year, that there will always be pink there. And it envelopes you. You want to wear pink to show you're part of the group. Even my husband - who hates pink! - wore his pink crew shirt for the closing ceremony.
There is comfort and familiarity in preparing my pack for the walk. I have it down to a science. I carry with me the names of those that are fighting cancer, have won, have lost the battle. Those hang from a carbeaner for people to see. My pack carriers my water, a pen, a lot of blister bandaids, Alleve, lip balm, cell phone, bandana and my ID. This year, I felt like the patron saint of blisters, because seriously, I distributed those blister bandaids any time I came across a fellow walker who had a shoe and sock off at the side of the road.
I never get enough sleep the night before, though I always try, but I guess it's the excitement of the next day. Morning comes and off we go. Drop off your duffle bag and sleeping bag at the truck and head over the the opening ceremony. The sun is just peaking up, and we meet up with the team on the right side of the stage. Everyone's got their pink on. Every year is a surprise with what people will wear, but the familiarity is in that there will always be surprises. This year we saw two men in pink plaid kilts walking. The usual pink wigs and tutus. Capes with the names and photos of loved ones. Tshirts with team names and cute sayings.
The ceremony begins. We are told that every three minutes someone gets diagnosed with breast cancer. Sadly, this is familiar....for the past several years. The statistic hasn't changed. A small group of people people approach the stage and each tells their story. One has battled cancer, one has lost a loved one, one is a teen whose life has changed by it, one is battling now. Each puts a pink ribbon around the other's neck. The ribbon says 'every three minutes" and we're told that throughout the weekend, these pink ribbons will be randomly distributed to remind us that within the short time that we're together during the weekend, that many lives will be changed forever by a cancer diagnosis. And then, so you can feel the connection of the weekend and the disease that brought us together they ask you to raise your hands and hold them up if you're a survivor. Up go my hands. Up go my friend Sugar's hands. Then raise your hands if you're participating because someone you love is affected by breast cancer. Up go more hands. Raise your hands if you're there because you have lost someone to breast cancer. More hands go up. Now reach out and take the hand of the person next to you. There we stand all of us hands in the air, holding on to each other. It's the most beautiful thing. And very emotional. In that moment you realize the connection. How this terrible disease is affecting each and every one of us who are there. The walk officially begins this way. And off we go.
We follow the coast heading north. It's beautiful. And there are so many walkers. You can see all the people walking for their loved ones. The sound of the people who are supporting us walkers are all familiar. Friends and neighbors, sleep children in their pajamas sitting in front of their homes, volunteers, all come out along the route to cheer along this moving sea of pink. Clapping, cheering, plastic clappers, cowbells, applause and "thank you's". There are those that volunteer every year to cheer. I have my favorites. There is a woman that is there year after year. She's got her sparkly pink TOMS on. She pulls her car over, puts on her Shania Twain CD, and dances as we walk by. Last year I noticed a quiet, unassuming volunteer on the route. She would applaud us quietly as we walked by. This year, I saw her again. As I walked by all I said, was "Hey, I remember you! You were here last year." This woman was so excited that I remembered. "Yes! Yes, I was here!" She gave me a hug and I thanked her for cheering for us. For the next 39 miles, she was my best friend. Each time I saw her I approached her with "Hi, favorite cheer person!" And this of course would make her smile and wave at us. There are always three older ladies with pink wigs and outfits that cheer, dance and sing for us. There's a man dressed as a cow - udderly ridiculous. He cheers, offers walkers sublock and reminds us to stretch. All of these volunteers do their thing for us, and then get in their cars, go a few miles up the route, and do it all over again, all day long. All weekend long.
The route is marked with pink signs and mile markers. Catchy, funny, and sometimes motivational sayings like, "I Pink I can, I pink I can, I know I can." or "Blisters don't need chemo" When you first start the walk, you find yourself stopping for photo ops along the way at the mile markers. Mile 1? Maybe not. But mile 3, mile 5 for sure, mile 10. But as the day wears on, and the reality of the number of miles ahead settles in, you start walking with a goal. The photos become less frequent. The goal is to get to your rest stop ahead of
schedule. Because each rest stop has a closing time, and you'll be shuttled to the next stop if you fall behind so it's important to pace yourself on the walk and do at least a 20 minute mile consistently to avoid what they call "being swept."
The hills are familiar to me. I have to say that this year was my best year. I usually hit a wall somewhere around mile 20. But this year I was okay with it all. As soon as I hit mile 17, the remaining miles are in the single digits....9 miles to go. 8 to go. When we hit 6, Fr. Vazken said, "Six miles. That's 2x around the Rose Bowl ...we can do that." It was constant inner dialogue like that. And as we got to about mile 21, there was familiarity in the ocean, the beautiful surf, the fine mist of the waves crashing. We were walking along the Montecito estates. The prettiest part of the walk. I remembered that years prior, when Ani and I were walking this path, we made up a story and tried to see if we could get a rumor started. We knew that Oprah Winfrey had a home in Montecito. When we were around a group of walkers, we started talking about how this particular estate was Oprah's home. That year on that day there was actually preparation for a large party at that estate, and we overheard our rumour catching wind. Walkers were trying to look through the fence to see Oprah's house. Year's later, I always think of that walk with Ani whenever I pass that home.
At mile 24, Ani is working the rest stop. She offers hugs and muscle rub. Its great having a nurse daughter. She also had a stash of clean ice that I wrapped in my bandana and tied around my neck. The buses are lined up there, ready to take those that can't go on over to the wellness village. Keep walking. Around mile 25 a woman standing on the side of the route, puts a pink ribbon around my neck. Every three minutes. I am part of the statistic. You know that mile 26 is around the corner when you hear the cheering. Mind you, it's not just 26 miles on that first day, but 26.2 miles. And that .2 takes forever! But finally, as you enter the wellness village, you hear the cheering, and the clapping. This year, my husband was on crew and so he was there when I crossed the Day One finish line. As familiar as it is to cross it, it was way better to see him there. There are other familiar faces too. The Avon staff and volunteers are there. There is a tent set up with foot massagers, and you plop down on the chair, slip off your shoes and let the little mechanical massager work it's magic. In the short time that you're seated there, talking with your friends old and new, this terrible stiffness and soreness creeps in. And you really wonder where it came from so suddenly. Even that's familiar. Standing up is painful. Sitting down is painful. Walking is painful. It's all painful. My legs, my hips...but not my feet. My feet were fine....no blisters! As painful as it is, you know that tomorrow, you'll be okay. Sore or not, you're going to wake up, lace up your shoes, and hit the road for another 13.1 miles!
The wellness village is like a tent city. The big tent has hundreds of tables and chairs where you can sit and have your dinner visit with friends, charge your phone, watch the entertainment. There is a tent for medical care; a tent for chiropractic; a tent for massage; a mini store; and a tent for yoga stretch. This year four of my team members worked in food service including my baby sister, Sona. Our girls were hilarious, always bringing their craziness and fun with them. Two of them wore Wonder Woman aprons, and two wore aprons with bikini bodies on them. They were having a great time serving up the hundreds and hundreds of walkers with their smiles. There are tents, and there are portapotties. And there are amazing shower trucks with wonderful hot private showers.
After dinner, I sat near the phone charging station to charge up my phone, and I had a conversation with a nice man named Ricky. He was just sitting there. Long hair to his shoulders, a friendly smile. We spoke while we waited. In a little bit, Ani came up and joined us. Ricky had lost his mother to breast cancer. He looked to be in his 50's. Was a gardener from Texas. We shared mom stories. My mom has been staying with us. And Ricky said that when his mom got diagnosed, she called him to come home. He was her caregiver. He told me that he would try to keep up her spirits in the end, but the cancer had spread and she wasn't up to anything. Eventually she passed. He was there with her. He said he missed her terribly. For the first few months after his mother died, he didn't know what to do. And then he heard about the Avon Walk. Despite the fact that his brothers discouraged him, he signed up. And he has been walking in her memory for the past 4 years. He said, "I have to do something. This is what I do. Once a year. For her." The following day Ani shared with me in passing. "Hey Mom, I saw your friend Ricky this morning around mile 10. He was wearing a cape." : ) That's another great thing about the walk. It's okay to wear your cape.
There's a woman on this walk who is an icon. Her name is Barbara Jean. This woman has to be in her late 70's, and she has walked EVERY walk in each of the cities that it's held in, every year for the past 16 years. Santa Barbara, New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Denver....if there's an Avon Walk she's there. Walking in memory of her husband. She walks with her daughter, and this year her granddaughter was on the Youth Crew. Truly amazing, this woman has raised over $1.5 million dollars for breast cancer. When you're walking on the route, her familiar cape pinned with ribbons that hold the names of those that she's walking in memory of is a reminder that anyone, no matter what age, can make a difference as long as you have a caring and compassionate heart. She deserves the cape; she's a super woman.
The next morning you don't have too much time. Get dressed and cleaned up, pack up your sleeping bag and your tent, put your duffle bag on the truck, have breakfast, fill up your water, and be ready to hit the route ready to tackle another 13 miles. Everyone is moving a little slow on day two. And the soreness seems to get greater and greater as the miles go on but you don't dare stop. We walk on, and one. The motor crew - bikers that volunteer for the event - with their dyed pink beards, ask more frequently now: "How are you doing? Doing okay?" And finally, a short walk up a hill, and through one of the final residential areas....this is where the parakeets are. They're there every year. I've never seen the person they belong to but passing by this manicured lawn , you can't help put spot the cage of parakeets. So colorful. This is my reminder. A reminder that this journey - at least for this weekend - is almost over. As we near mile 39, we hear the music and the cheering of the crowds. The finish line is only a short block away, but in order to make it a true 39.3 miles, they route us down two blocks and across three and then back...and finally the finish line is in view. The mile 39 marker is there, and everyone lines up to take a picture with it. Approaching the finish line we're greeted by our family, and the rest of our team. It's emotional. We hold hands and raise them in victory. We hug. And cry. And laugh. And take pictures. 39.3 miles. Familiar miles. An all too familiar disease. Friendships made because of it. Friendships stolen because of it. And because of cancer research, lives are saved as well.
The closing ceremony is for all our family and friends. All the walkers walk in together....then the survivors
make an entrance....followed by all the crew members who helped make the walk happen. And then we get to see how the money we raised is distributed as Avon presents the checks to the various community organizations that are recipients. That's what's good about this walk: the money stays within the community and the community benefits with cancer research, mammograms for the needy, meals for those battling cancer. Again we're asked to raise our hands in the air, reach out and hold the hand of the person next to us. We observe a moment of silence for those who are no longer with us because of this disease. And to me, it's a time to recommit myself to the cause. I will keep walking. I will keep fighting.
The walk is empowering. When cancer hits it's easy to think of yourself as a victim. I mean this is something that happens TO you. You're definitely not in control. But when you walk this walk, surrounded by so many others that have walked in your shoes, and you in theirs, you put that victim mentality aside, and you become the victor!
I was telling our family and friends after the closing ceremony, that we've all heard about drugs like PCP that give the user superhuman strength and allow them to do the unimaginable. Alone, I don't think that I would be able to walk 39 miles in 2 days' time. But together, with the love, support, prayers, and by the God's Grace, we are able to do amazing things. We can turn IMPOSSIBLE, to I'm POSSIBLE!
I want to take this opportunity to thank all of your for your prayers donations and support. Especially your prayers for a blister-free walk because I didn't get the blisters this year and I know it was because of those prayers. I also want to thank you for giving me the honor of walking in memory, honor or celebration of your loved ones. I carried them with me every step of the way and I felt your thoughts and prayers with us too.
I also want to congratulate our Team, In Her Shoes for once again, making this weekend a memorable one. We did it. AND, I want to let you all know that sign ups for Avon Walk 2014 started that afternoon at the closing ceremony, and I'm proud to say that Team In Her Shoes 2014 ALREADY has 12 members!!
So think about it. If you're interested in walking, or crewing next year, drop me a line. If you have your doubts about being able to do it...c'mon! We'll do it together!
Remember: Whether you believe you can, or you believe you can't, you're right!!
Believe you can! Make a difference!! Be the change.
xoxo
 |
| Best Team ever!! |
It's true. I have done this amazing walk 10 times in my life. And most all of those times were in Santa Barbara. The first time I signed up to do the Avon Walk was back in 1998...when the walk was a 3 day walk where we traveled from Santa Barbara to Malibu - 60 miles - doing 20 miles a day. I was younger then. But I signed up that year to celebrate my 5 years of remission from breast cancer. I remember the walk fell right on my anniversary day - October 22. It was the day I finished my last radiation treatment 5 years prior, and they told me then that if I make it to 5 years without recurrence, you can consider yourself cured. So what better way to celebrate than to give back and do this walk. I walked alone that year, and along the way, I met survivors, and people that were walking in memory or honor of their loved ones. I met those battling cancer right at that time, with no hair, and scarves or hats. After spending the past 5 years worrying about recurrence, doctor's check ups, blood work ups, mammograms, this walk empowered me.
It elevated me. And I was hooked. I walked that same 3 day, three more times and then
took a break for a while. And then Avon announced that they were changing course and having a 2 day, 39.3 mile (Marathon and a half) instead. And I signed up...and I haven't stopped.
 |
| Raise your hands up and keep them up if you're a survivor! |
I was thinking about what it is that makes this so familiar for me. I mean, it's a once a year event and there are 363 days in between to think about, but the feeling is so powerful and the impressions so vivid, that I thought I'd share with you.
There is familiarity in PINK. From the moment you arrive at Event Eve the Friday before the walk to the time you head home after the closing ceremony, you are surrounded in pink. Pink Ribbons, shirts, pink bubble gum, pink Reeboks, you name it, they have it in pink. You just know, year after year, that there will always be pink there. And it envelopes you. You want to wear pink to show you're part of the group. Even my husband - who hates pink! - wore his pink crew shirt for the closing ceremony.
There is comfort and familiarity in preparing my pack for the walk. I have it down to a science. I carry with me the names of those that are fighting cancer, have won, have lost the battle. Those hang from a carbeaner for people to see. My pack carriers my water, a pen, a lot of blister bandaids, Alleve, lip balm, cell phone, bandana and my ID. This year, I felt like the patron saint of blisters, because seriously, I distributed those blister bandaids any time I came across a fellow walker who had a shoe and sock off at the side of the road.
 |
| Opening ceremony |
The ceremony begins. We are told that every three minutes someone gets diagnosed with breast cancer. Sadly, this is familiar....for the past several years. The statistic hasn't changed. A small group of people people approach the stage and each tells their story. One has battled cancer, one has lost a loved one, one is a teen whose life has changed by it, one is battling now. Each puts a pink ribbon around the other's neck. The ribbon says 'every three minutes" and we're told that throughout the weekend, these pink ribbons will be randomly distributed to remind us that within the short time that we're together during the weekend, that many lives will be changed forever by a cancer diagnosis. And then, so you can feel the connection of the weekend and the disease that brought us together they ask you to raise your hands and hold them up if you're a survivor. Up go my hands. Up go my friend Sugar's hands. Then raise your hands if you're participating because someone you love is affected by breast cancer. Up go more hands. Raise your hands if you're there because you have lost someone to breast cancer. More hands go up. Now reach out and take the hand of the person next to you. There we stand all of us hands in the air, holding on to each other. It's the most beautiful thing. And very emotional. In that moment you realize the connection. How this terrible disease is affecting each and every one of us who are there. The walk officially begins this way. And off we go.
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| I love the cow man! |
The route is marked with pink signs and mile markers. Catchy, funny, and sometimes motivational sayings like, "I Pink I can, I pink I can, I know I can." or "Blisters don't need chemo" When you first start the walk, you find yourself stopping for photo ops along the way at the mile markers. Mile 1? Maybe not. But mile 3, mile 5 for sure, mile 10. But as the day wears on, and the reality of the number of miles ahead settles in, you start walking with a goal. The photos become less frequent. The goal is to get to your rest stop ahead of
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| One of the signs that mark our route |
The hills are familiar to me. I have to say that this year was my best year. I usually hit a wall somewhere around mile 20. But this year I was okay with it all. As soon as I hit mile 17, the remaining miles are in the single digits....9 miles to go. 8 to go. When we hit 6, Fr. Vazken said, "Six miles. That's 2x around the Rose Bowl ...we can do that." It was constant inner dialogue like that. And as we got to about mile 21, there was familiarity in the ocean, the beautiful surf, the fine mist of the waves crashing. We were walking along the Montecito estates. The prettiest part of the walk. I remembered that years prior, when Ani and I were walking this path, we made up a story and tried to see if we could get a rumor started. We knew that Oprah Winfrey had a home in Montecito. When we were around a group of walkers, we started talking about how this particular estate was Oprah's home. That year on that day there was actually preparation for a large party at that estate, and we overheard our rumour catching wind. Walkers were trying to look through the fence to see Oprah's house. Year's later, I always think of that walk with Ani whenever I pass that home.
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| Energizing bachigs from Ani! |
The wellness village is like a tent city. The big tent has hundreds of tables and chairs where you can sit and have your dinner visit with friends, charge your phone, watch the entertainment. There is a tent for medical care; a tent for chiropractic; a tent for massage; a mini store; and a tent for yoga stretch. This year four of my team members worked in food service including my baby sister, Sona. Our girls were hilarious, always bringing their craziness and fun with them. Two of them wore Wonder Woman aprons, and two wore aprons with bikini bodies on them. They were having a great time serving up the hundreds and hundreds of walkers with their smiles. There are tents, and there are portapotties. And there are amazing shower trucks with wonderful hot private showers.
After dinner, I sat near the phone charging station to charge up my phone, and I had a conversation with a nice man named Ricky. He was just sitting there. Long hair to his shoulders, a friendly smile. We spoke while we waited. In a little bit, Ani came up and joined us. Ricky had lost his mother to breast cancer. He looked to be in his 50's. Was a gardener from Texas. We shared mom stories. My mom has been staying with us. And Ricky said that when his mom got diagnosed, she called him to come home. He was her caregiver. He told me that he would try to keep up her spirits in the end, but the cancer had spread and she wasn't up to anything. Eventually she passed. He was there with her. He said he missed her terribly. For the first few months after his mother died, he didn't know what to do. And then he heard about the Avon Walk. Despite the fact that his brothers discouraged him, he signed up. And he has been walking in her memory for the past 4 years. He said, "I have to do something. This is what I do. Once a year. For her." The following day Ani shared with me in passing. "Hey Mom, I saw your friend Ricky this morning around mile 10. He was wearing a cape." : ) That's another great thing about the walk. It's okay to wear your cape.
There's a woman on this walk who is an icon. Her name is Barbara Jean. This woman has to be in her late 70's, and she has walked EVERY walk in each of the cities that it's held in, every year for the past 16 years. Santa Barbara, New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Denver....if there's an Avon Walk she's there. Walking in memory of her husband. She walks with her daughter, and this year her granddaughter was on the Youth Crew. Truly amazing, this woman has raised over $1.5 million dollars for breast cancer. When you're walking on the route, her familiar cape pinned with ribbons that hold the names of those that she's walking in memory of is a reminder that anyone, no matter what age, can make a difference as long as you have a caring and compassionate heart. She deserves the cape; she's a super woman.
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| Yn. Susan, Fr. Vazken & I at Mile 39! |
The closing ceremony is for all our family and friends. All the walkers walk in together....then the survivors
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| My breast friend Sugar and I at closing ceremonies. We're survivors. Sorry for the "hat hair" |
The walk is empowering. When cancer hits it's easy to think of yourself as a victim. I mean this is something that happens TO you. You're definitely not in control. But when you walk this walk, surrounded by so many others that have walked in your shoes, and you in theirs, you put that victim mentality aside, and you become the victor!
I was telling our family and friends after the closing ceremony, that we've all heard about drugs like PCP that give the user superhuman strength and allow them to do the unimaginable. Alone, I don't think that I would be able to walk 39 miles in 2 days' time. But together, with the love, support, prayers, and by the God's Grace, we are able to do amazing things. We can turn IMPOSSIBLE, to I'm POSSIBLE!
I want to take this opportunity to thank all of your for your prayers donations and support. Especially your prayers for a blister-free walk because I didn't get the blisters this year and I know it was because of those prayers. I also want to thank you for giving me the honor of walking in memory, honor or celebration of your loved ones. I carried them with me every step of the way and I felt your thoughts and prayers with us too.
I also want to congratulate our Team, In Her Shoes for once again, making this weekend a memorable one. We did it. AND, I want to let you all know that sign ups for Avon Walk 2014 started that afternoon at the closing ceremony, and I'm proud to say that Team In Her Shoes 2014 ALREADY has 12 members!!
So think about it. If you're interested in walking, or crewing next year, drop me a line. If you have your doubts about being able to do it...c'mon! We'll do it together!
Remember: Whether you believe you can, or you believe you can't, you're right!!
Believe you can! Make a difference!! Be the change.
xoxo
05 September 2013
In It To End It!!!
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| Here are the cards I will carry with me every step of the 39.3 mile journey. I will hang them from my pack for all to see and as reminder that we have to keep walking til we find a cure. |
This weekend I'll be walking 39.3 miles in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer with Team In Her Shoes. I am walking in memory, honor, and celebration of those that have fought the fight and won, are currently battling, and sadly, those that have lost their lives to cancer. I am walking against breast cancer...and I am walking against ALL TYPES of cancer. Here is my list of names. If I missed your loved one, let me know. I have them written on cards and will be carrying them with me every step of the journey:
Fr. Vazken Movsesian
Diane Taschne
Daro Zadoian
Iskouhi Ghazarian
Debbie Gillum
Shirley Burr
Stella Okada
Ana Guzman
Elise Antreassian
Ellen Allison
Hilda Jubelt
Shirley Burr
Stella Okada
Ana Guzman
Elise Antreassian
Ellen Allison
Hilda Jubelt
Houri Donoyan
Cynthia Keylian
Veronica Monano Bedjakian
Evelyn Shafer
Evelyn Shafer
Nevair Tatoulian
Laurie Hrzyan
Anita Sislian
Sylvia Proskine
Hratch Casparian
Rita Mendez
Gloria Burgos
Gloria Solorio
Yvonne Clemente
Lauren Graves
Martha Pacero
Lisa Hagan
Nelik Golanian
Nelik Golanian
Sue Bugsch
Andrea Petker
Stephanie Sajjadieh
Tamar "Sugar" Apelian
Patricia Didonato
Emma Kapurch
Robin's mom
Mimi Megerdichian
Anush Berberyan
Nora Svajian
Tean Kech
Monica Beltran
Josephine Greco
Shakeh Arpajian
Sossie Arpajian
Irene Sazar
Arpine Jarlekian
Janet Cicero
Zabel Bahudian
Laurie Byerly
Taleen Petrossians
Marguereite Vigorito
Deegeen Nvart
Madline Tatoyan
Maria Wulf
Nanejan Hacopian
Elizabethe Kronaugh
Margie Scott
Jane Leapheart
Jenny Smith
Janet Stephen
Richard Jouroyan
Bn. Simon
Jim Lione
Chris Jakubowski
Cory
Rodger Brennan
Leo Franconi, Jr.
Danny Avejic
Allan Lowry
Ferdinand Sarkissian
Ardella Jelloian
Robert Eggert
Perooz Baghdassarian
Haig Diradourian
Desi Geestman
John Martin
Paul Tallis
Shirag Berejekian
John Quintana
Katarina Zlatkovic
Claudia Minjares
Keith Ammerman
Paula Crisostomo
Ellen Yerejian
Dan Cortes
Puzant Sabounjian
Beth Pereny
Susan Hill
John Shafer
Francis Sobott
Grace Balayan
Hratch Balayan
Hratch Balayan
Becky Leonardi
Brian Sellers
Sarah Barajas
Lyndsay Colosimo
Delta Rathbone
Jennifer Thoma
Nick Mehterian
Mary Frances Sawtelle
Rick Bowman
David Ponkey
Devorah Stamulous
Danielle Adams
Patrick Dwyer
Alice Mikaelian
Tami Brazil
Becky Leonardi
Brian Sellers
Lyndsay Colosimo
Jan Petit
Sue Smith
Lou Fancelli
Randy Crabtree
Jon Kinney
Paul Perkins
Becky Leonardi
Brian Sellers
Lyndsay Colosimo
Jan Petit
Sue Smith
Lou Fancelli
Randy Crabtree
Jon Kinney
Paul Perkins
Thank you to all of you for your donations, support and prayers. Please pray for us this weekend. And send us blister-free wishes too. I'm in it to end it!
There's still time to donate: www.avonwalk.org/goto/anushavejic
01 January 2013
New Year, New Beginnings, and a New Look
Happy New Year!
2012 was a wonderful year for me. So many life celebrations happened. I celebrated my first year of being cancer free. My daughter Ani got married, and just last week we went to Chicago to meet (and love) our first grandchild - Grace - my step-daughter Robyn's baby girl.
But there's more good stuff: I was team leader for an amazing group of walkers - Team In Her Shoes - and together we walked 39.3 miles in two days to put an end to breast cancer, and in the process we raised in excess of $35,000!
On the creative front, I completed the illustrations for my first children's book which is coming out this year, and I expanded my use of metals and started working in bronze and copper (as well as silver).
Last night, as we toasted in the New Year, I reflected back on New Years Eve 2011. I was "done" with that year. It was a tough one filled with cancer and surgeries, yet it was also a year of strength and focus, of hope and faith. As tough as that year was, it was still triumphant because we lived through it.
I can't hope that 2013 will be "better" than last year. Last year was pretty great. But I do hope that it will be just as good. There are definite goals for 2013. I'm declaring it a year to be healthy, to be happy.
So here is how I plan to achieve this:
1. Take the bus. Starting tomorrow I'm back on the bus. I've been driving to work for the past year (post surgery), and now I'm ready to switch back to public transportation. This will do a few nice things for me not to mention the environment -
a) It will force me to walk (I'm planning on walking the 6 blocks from our home to and from the bus stop); b) It will allow me time to read/crochet - both of which I love to do. It's a win/win!
2. Weight loss and Vegetarianism: I plan on tackling both. A couple months ago, I gave up eating meat. I'm having a bit of trouble balancing the food. No animal protein has meant higher carbs. I'm feeling it. It's time to get a grip on the balance. So I'll be working on finding the happy medium. Along the way I want to work out some good vegetarian low-cal recipes.
3. Continue to make time for daily prayer. I started this last year. Early morning, alone time with God before starting the day. I find that this prayer time sets the tone for the rest of my day.
4. Grow my business. Make time to create, photograph and list new items. www.pomegranateandeye.etsy.com
These are the main goals. I've got lots of ideas I'm thinking I'd like to walk in the Avon Walk again. The training will help my health goals (plus it's a lot of fun and for a great cause). I'd also like to make sure I get to bed earlier than I have been. But that remains to be seen. And then there's blogging. I'm hoping to blog regularly.
What about you? Do you have goals for the new year? Leave me a comment and let me know. Need motivation? Let me know!
Wishing you and your family a happy, healthy, and blessed new year filled with love, compassion, peace and joy!
But there's more good stuff: I was team leader for an amazing group of walkers - Team In Her Shoes - and together we walked 39.3 miles in two days to put an end to breast cancer, and in the process we raised in excess of $35,000!
On the creative front, I completed the illustrations for my first children's book which is coming out this year, and I expanded my use of metals and started working in bronze and copper (as well as silver).
Last night, as we toasted in the New Year, I reflected back on New Years Eve 2011. I was "done" with that year. It was a tough one filled with cancer and surgeries, yet it was also a year of strength and focus, of hope and faith. As tough as that year was, it was still triumphant because we lived through it.
I can't hope that 2013 will be "better" than last year. Last year was pretty great. But I do hope that it will be just as good. There are definite goals for 2013. I'm declaring it a year to be healthy, to be happy.
So here is how I plan to achieve this:
1. Take the bus. Starting tomorrow I'm back on the bus. I've been driving to work for the past year (post surgery), and now I'm ready to switch back to public transportation. This will do a few nice things for me not to mention the environment -
a) It will force me to walk (I'm planning on walking the 6 blocks from our home to and from the bus stop); b) It will allow me time to read/crochet - both of which I love to do. It's a win/win!
2. Weight loss and Vegetarianism: I plan on tackling both. A couple months ago, I gave up eating meat. I'm having a bit of trouble balancing the food. No animal protein has meant higher carbs. I'm feeling it. It's time to get a grip on the balance. So I'll be working on finding the happy medium. Along the way I want to work out some good vegetarian low-cal recipes.
3. Continue to make time for daily prayer. I started this last year. Early morning, alone time with God before starting the day. I find that this prayer time sets the tone for the rest of my day.
4. Grow my business. Make time to create, photograph and list new items. www.pomegranateandeye.etsy.com
These are the main goals. I've got lots of ideas I'm thinking I'd like to walk in the Avon Walk again. The training will help my health goals (plus it's a lot of fun and for a great cause). I'd also like to make sure I get to bed earlier than I have been. But that remains to be seen. And then there's blogging. I'm hoping to blog regularly.
What about you? Do you have goals for the new year? Leave me a comment and let me know. Need motivation? Let me know!
Wishing you and your family a happy, healthy, and blessed new year filled with love, compassion, peace and joy!
24 November 2011
Epiphany at Thanksgiving
Epiphany - noun - a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely or commonplace occurrence or experience.
You know the final scene of Dickens' Christmas Carol, where Ebeneezer Scrooge, enlightened by the meaning of Christmas, opens his window on the village below and wishes passersby a Merry Christmas? Well, that's how it is for me this year with Thanksgiving. Upon leaving work yesterday, I was wishing everyone (and I mean everyone!) a happy Thanksgiving. I even hugged building security on my way out.
I have always loved Thanksgiving and the concept behind it. A day to give thanks to God for all our blessings. A day to enjoy the family. But this year is different. It's more than a "concept" and so much more than a day. In reflection of all that has happened, healthwise, this year - recovery from gallbladder surgery, colon cancer, breast cancer round two/mastectomy surgery, my brother's colon cancer - it's actually been a very BLESSED year and I am so much richer, more blessed, and in a better place for it. My heart is filled with joy, thankfulness, love, and compassion because of the experiences of this year.
Yes, we went through some tough times....BUT, today, on November 24, I am alive and well. Not only that, but I am thriving. This year, I saw my daughter graduate nursing school and move on to be a successful pediatric nurse. I have seen my son thrive in his job as a project manager. I have witnessed the love shared between my future son-in-law and my daughter and the respect and caring they have toward one another. I have known true love from my husband who has been there for me every step of this journey...and who worries about me. : )
I am blessed with a close family...that love and care for me. That are there for me. That support me, pray for me, cooked for me when I came home from the hospital. I am thankful for a mom that came over to take care of me, even when she wasn't feeling well herself....who loves to spend time with me, watch dr. phil, judge judy and oprah with me....and give me advice on what vitamins to take and what books to read. I am blessed with a closeness between my brothers and sister who send me sound clips of TV shows of the past - no brag, just fact - who text me to see how my doctor's appointments went, who buy me a bag of 36 popsicles when I just mentioned that "a" popsicle sounds good, and who share with me the stories of my nephews and nieces to put into perpective the beauty and preciousness of life.
I am blessed with a handful of true friends who are there for me through thick and thin. Who email me throughout my day, one or two sentences, to commiserate about how we wish were were home now, or to share our days - happy or nerve-wracking --, or send me funny photos at just the right time. : ) Who share crochet patterns with me, and laugh with me. Who reach out to the homeless with me and who work toward making the world a better place. Who rent a van and drive all the way out to Carpinteria, potluck in tow, to cheer my daughter and I cross the finish line after walking 39 miles for breast cancer. AND THEN...who sign up to walk those 39 miles with me next year! You have made my life better - every one of you.
I have another family - a church family - that I am grateful for. These are family members some of whose last names I don't even know. But it's not important. We're all part of a larger family. These are people that come up to me on Sundays, embrace me and ask how I'm feeling. And tell me that they have been praying for me. I know. I can feel it. I am humbled by them.
I am in tune as well to the blessings of my body and how it is working, despite it's problems. The coordination it is taking for my brain to put the thought into motion, typing it on my screen right now, seeing the words pop up, hearing the clicking of the keys while being able to hear Segovia play Mendelssohn's String quartet No. 1 in E flat major. Miraculous. Smelling and tasting the coffee. Feeling the warmth of my robe, enjoying the light in my dining room, and the love of my kitties that are "kuskurduvel"ing on against my legs.
I am thankful for all my medical providers, whose hands - guided by God - helped me be here today. My surgeons who removed cancer, re-routed me, created new parts for me -- I am truly grateful. And for the nurses who took care of me around the clock ....and even the workers that cooked the meals in the hospital, and those who came and cleaned my room. I appreciate them all so much more now.
I think I could go on and on...all day. The Epiphany of Thanksgiving...on this very special Thanksgiving, is that everyday is a day of thanks. The miracle of life is a blessing. Our hearts beating, day in and day out since the day we were born; the wonder of our bodies working on their own...breathing without our conscious effort. And the realization that we are not alone here...we all are part of one another. We belong to one another.
Life is precious and I am so blessed to live the life I do. A full life. A life filled with love and fullness because of so many who grace it.
It has been an amazing year! A Blessed Year! Happy Thanksgiving!
You know the final scene of Dickens' Christmas Carol, where Ebeneezer Scrooge, enlightened by the meaning of Christmas, opens his window on the village below and wishes passersby a Merry Christmas? Well, that's how it is for me this year with Thanksgiving. Upon leaving work yesterday, I was wishing everyone (and I mean everyone!) a happy Thanksgiving. I even hugged building security on my way out.
I have always loved Thanksgiving and the concept behind it. A day to give thanks to God for all our blessings. A day to enjoy the family. But this year is different. It's more than a "concept" and so much more than a day. In reflection of all that has happened, healthwise, this year - recovery from gallbladder surgery, colon cancer, breast cancer round two/mastectomy surgery, my brother's colon cancer - it's actually been a very BLESSED year and I am so much richer, more blessed, and in a better place for it. My heart is filled with joy, thankfulness, love, and compassion because of the experiences of this year.
Yes, we went through some tough times....BUT, today, on November 24, I am alive and well. Not only that, but I am thriving. This year, I saw my daughter graduate nursing school and move on to be a successful pediatric nurse. I have seen my son thrive in his job as a project manager. I have witnessed the love shared between my future son-in-law and my daughter and the respect and caring they have toward one another. I have known true love from my husband who has been there for me every step of this journey...and who worries about me. : )
I am blessed with a close family...that love and care for me. That are there for me. That support me, pray for me, cooked for me when I came home from the hospital. I am thankful for a mom that came over to take care of me, even when she wasn't feeling well herself....who loves to spend time with me, watch dr. phil, judge judy and oprah with me....and give me advice on what vitamins to take and what books to read. I am blessed with a closeness between my brothers and sister who send me sound clips of TV shows of the past - no brag, just fact - who text me to see how my doctor's appointments went, who buy me a bag of 36 popsicles when I just mentioned that "a" popsicle sounds good, and who share with me the stories of my nephews and nieces to put into perpective the beauty and preciousness of life.
I am blessed with a handful of true friends who are there for me through thick and thin. Who email me throughout my day, one or two sentences, to commiserate about how we wish were were home now, or to share our days - happy or nerve-wracking --, or send me funny photos at just the right time. : ) Who share crochet patterns with me, and laugh with me. Who reach out to the homeless with me and who work toward making the world a better place. Who rent a van and drive all the way out to Carpinteria, potluck in tow, to cheer my daughter and I cross the finish line after walking 39 miles for breast cancer. AND THEN...who sign up to walk those 39 miles with me next year! You have made my life better - every one of you.
I have another family - a church family - that I am grateful for. These are family members some of whose last names I don't even know. But it's not important. We're all part of a larger family. These are people that come up to me on Sundays, embrace me and ask how I'm feeling. And tell me that they have been praying for me. I know. I can feel it. I am humbled by them.
I am in tune as well to the blessings of my body and how it is working, despite it's problems. The coordination it is taking for my brain to put the thought into motion, typing it on my screen right now, seeing the words pop up, hearing the clicking of the keys while being able to hear Segovia play Mendelssohn's String quartet No. 1 in E flat major. Miraculous. Smelling and tasting the coffee. Feeling the warmth of my robe, enjoying the light in my dining room, and the love of my kitties that are "kuskurduvel"ing on against my legs.
I am thankful for all my medical providers, whose hands - guided by God - helped me be here today. My surgeons who removed cancer, re-routed me, created new parts for me -- I am truly grateful. And for the nurses who took care of me around the clock ....and even the workers that cooked the meals in the hospital, and those who came and cleaned my room. I appreciate them all so much more now.
I think I could go on and on...all day. The Epiphany of Thanksgiving...on this very special Thanksgiving, is that everyday is a day of thanks. The miracle of life is a blessing. Our hearts beating, day in and day out since the day we were born; the wonder of our bodies working on their own...breathing without our conscious effort. And the realization that we are not alone here...we all are part of one another. We belong to one another.
Life is precious and I am so blessed to live the life I do. A full life. A life filled with love and fullness because of so many who grace it.
It has been an amazing year! A Blessed Year! Happy Thanksgiving!
08 November 2011
Fall Seven Times -- (One Week Post Op)
I went back to work this week -- Wait! It was only yesterday. Geez...okay, so you can tell how exhausting it's been....felt like Thursday. Thankfully, I don't have a physically demanding job -- I work at a computer all day -- but still, sitting in one place and dealing with work demands has been draining.
The drain site is still sore even though the drain is out. It's going to take time to heal. I am still heavily bandaged...and I always forget to allow extra time to my morning/evening routine. Changing dressings takes me an extra 10 minutes. I was told that there can be absolutely NO PRESSURE applied to the wound site, so I have layer upon layer of gauze stacked up to help me achieve this.
Tomorrow is my post op appointment with the surgeon. I'm curious if he'll remove the stitches. The Steri-Strips are still in place (they haven't fallen off yet like they said they would). We'll see.
Another big change has been that Ani has started working the night shift at Children's Hospital. This is going to be a "regular" thing for the next year. I'm so used to having her around. And now, when she's working, I don't get to see her but for an hour, when I come home and she's getting ready to leave. We are getting creative in our texting. I've been staying up late working on jewelry, and we'll send a text here and there at odd hours just to "check in". But the house is quiet now, and it's a big change for me. That, coupled with the darkness after the time change, and it's a bit gloomy. : (
That being said though, all in all, I am feeling optimistic. I have been thinking a lot about this past year now that we're just a couple months from the end of it. It's been a tough ride, and
I'm ready for the New Year to start. But I am also grateful. Yes, it's been a tough year...but I am alive! I made it through, and I'm still fighting! : )
The drain site is still sore even though the drain is out. It's going to take time to heal. I am still heavily bandaged...and I always forget to allow extra time to my morning/evening routine. Changing dressings takes me an extra 10 minutes. I was told that there can be absolutely NO PRESSURE applied to the wound site, so I have layer upon layer of gauze stacked up to help me achieve this.
Tomorrow is my post op appointment with the surgeon. I'm curious if he'll remove the stitches. The Steri-Strips are still in place (they haven't fallen off yet like they said they would). We'll see.
Another big change has been that Ani has started working the night shift at Children's Hospital. This is going to be a "regular" thing for the next year. I'm so used to having her around. And now, when she's working, I don't get to see her but for an hour, when I come home and she's getting ready to leave. We are getting creative in our texting. I've been staying up late working on jewelry, and we'll send a text here and there at odd hours just to "check in". But the house is quiet now, and it's a big change for me. That, coupled with the darkness after the time change, and it's a bit gloomy. : (
That being said though, all in all, I am feeling optimistic. I have been thinking a lot about this past year now that we're just a couple months from the end of it. It's been a tough ride, and
I'm ready for the New Year to start. But I am also grateful. Yes, it's been a tough year...but I am alive! I made it through, and I'm still fighting! : )
| "Fall 7 times - stand up 8." Japanese Proverb That's it right there. Just keep on standing up! Keep fighting for what you believe in. Life is precious! |
04 November 2011
Rain, Drain and BlogWorld Again!
It's November 4, just 3 days after surgery. Today was the BlogWorld Expo at the L.A. Convention Center, and DV, Suzie and I had planned on going prior to my surgery. It rained today and my brother didn't want me driving so soon after surgery, so he decided to come pick me up at the house and we'd go together. I'm doing well...for being only three days post op, there's been very little drainage and after a call to the surgeon's office it was decided that I could have my drain taken out today. This is a wonderful thing. The drain leaves my body right under my right arm pit....with tubing that continues to a Jackson Pratt drain that hangs from a clip attached to my waistband. Not only is it ugly, but it's very painful. So the idea that I can have this removed today is wonderful.
So first things first, the three of us checked in at the BlogWorld Expo. It's so much fun. We went around to all the booths learning about blogging, marketing, monetizing, promoting, and picking up great swag from tshirts, and back scratchers, to insulated cups...you name it. Belesh! "The Next Step with Fr. Vazken" Podcast was nominated for a People's Choice award for best religious podcast. As Suzie is the producer of the show and DV is the host, we were anxious to find out if they had won, but found out that the winners will be announced tomorrow (not today). Here they are relaxing at the SouthWest Airlines both at the convention center:
Blogger also had a cool photo booth where we took our individual photos. Here's mine:
After several hours of the show though, I have to admit that I was exhausted. My arms and shoulders were aching, and I was just pooped. We decided to drive out to Encino, closer to my surgeon's office and find a place to have lunch rather than staying around L.A. and risking the traffic. It was raining, and things were getting messy.
We had lunch together and then made it to the doctor on time. After a definite okay from the nurse, they removed my drain! I also have permission to shower now, rather than taking a sponge bath. More great news.
I am still bandaged but healing okay. I'm still pretty bruised up from the whole IV line fiasco. I'm posting a couple pics so you get the idea. So I went to the doctor today, and the nurse removed my drain! Afterward, the doctor checked in on me. I showed him my bruised hands and arm and thanked him for not letting the anesthesiologist tap into my neck vein. He said, "Well, at least you have a sense of humor about it...I just didn't see why we couldn't use your bad arm for the couple hours we'd be in surgery." Okay by me!
I have a follow up appointment on November 9 -- next Wednesday, when hopefully, I'll get my stitches removed. Til then, just taking it a day at a time.
Blogger also had a cool photo booth where we took our individual photos. Here's mine:
After several hours of the show though, I have to admit that I was exhausted. My arms and shoulders were aching, and I was just pooped. We decided to drive out to Encino, closer to my surgeon's office and find a place to have lunch rather than staying around L.A. and risking the traffic. It was raining, and things were getting messy.
We had lunch together and then made it to the doctor on time. After a definite okay from the nurse, they removed my drain! I also have permission to shower now, rather than taking a sponge bath. More great news.
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| Hand bruised from three tries to get the IV line started |
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| Forearm is bruised as well.... another two tries there. Imagine, he wanted to then try my neck! |
I have a follow up appointment on November 9 -- next Wednesday, when hopefully, I'll get my stitches removed. Til then, just taking it a day at a time.
24 September 2011
When Has it Ever Not Been Crazy?
With the Avon Walk behind me, I thought, "Now I can settle down and finish up the illustrations!" I have this illustration job that started late last year, and then with the gallbladder surgery, colon cancer, breast cancer issues of the past 8 months, everything with that has been put on hold. Until this week. After talking to Elise, the head of the Department of Religious Education for the Eastern Diocese of the Armenian Church, we decided that if the book (a childrens book about what goes on in Armenian Orthodox church from a child's perspective) is going to be ready in time for Christmas, then I need to have the illustrations done by the end of October. EEeeeeppps!!! That's only a month and some change away!
So here it is, Saturday morning. I got the house in some semblance of order ...sort of. And now I'm getting ready to figure out what I'm doing. The illustrations, organizing team In Her Shoes, Pomegranate & Eye (the jewelry business), day job, family, and the upcoming second part of my reconstruction surgery - which will take place on 11/1/11 (nice number line up, for sure!)
For the past month, it seems that I have just had such a lack of energy. I mean, yes, we trained for the avon walk, miles and miles of training, and then the intensity of the weekend. But I mean, other than that. I've always been one to be "busy". My life is filled with projects, and burning the candle at both ends and in the middle too. Lately, though, it's been catching up to me, more so. I've had to come home from work and just "veg" out...laying down on my bed in the afternoon...sometimes even falling asleep. I've never ever been a napper.
But it's okay. I am thankful that I'm able to do what I can do. I realize that my life has always been crazy. And that's not a bad thing. Like the comment I received a couple months ago, it just means I have a very FULL life. And this is good. Life is good.
Soooo.....I am hopeful that I'll be able to get this illustration job done (prayers are appreciated). If I can get it done by the end of October...I won't have it looming over me when I have my surgery. There is a peace that I feel when I do get to sit and draw...and I get lost in time. It's just the effort of getting myself to sit and do it. Once I do, it's bliss. So today, in fact, right now, I'm going to sit down at my drawing table and work!
For the past month, it seems that I have just had such a lack of energy. I mean, yes, we trained for the avon walk, miles and miles of training, and then the intensity of the weekend. But I mean, other than that. I've always been one to be "busy". My life is filled with projects, and burning the candle at both ends and in the middle too. Lately, though, it's been catching up to me, more so. I've had to come home from work and just "veg" out...laying down on my bed in the afternoon...sometimes even falling asleep. I've never ever been a napper.
But it's okay. I am thankful that I'm able to do what I can do. I realize that my life has always been crazy. And that's not a bad thing. Like the comment I received a couple months ago, it just means I have a very FULL life. And this is good. Life is good.
Soooo.....I am hopeful that I'll be able to get this illustration job done (prayers are appreciated). If I can get it done by the end of October...I won't have it looming over me when I have my surgery. There is a peace that I feel when I do get to sit and draw...and I get lost in time. It's just the effort of getting myself to sit and do it. Once I do, it's bliss. So today, in fact, right now, I'm going to sit down at my drawing table and work!
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