1% Chance -- Are you sure this isn't a dream?

During the last several weeks I keep waking up in the middle of the night and just for a brief moment, I think I've just had a really, really bad dream.  


And then I feel my stomach -- oh shoot there really are 2 holes.  


I rub my head -- yup I am bad.  


Nope -- not a dream!


I lay there for about 5 minutes and feel sorry for myself, still not believing that I really have cancer, that I really am doing chemo, that at least twice a week I let my mind wander and start measuring my life in statistical chances of survival.  


And then I try to think about all of the good that I have seen during the last 3 months.  


Yesterday marked 3 months since my initial surgery.  Seems like a lifetime ago and yet it could have just been yesterday.  I was at my chemo Dr. today and we were talking about doing genetic testing.  She told me that the average woman has a 1% chance of getting ovarian cancer.  1 PERCENT!?!?!  Are you kidding me?  If I am going to be the 1% winner why couldn't be outcome become a cruise or a $100 cash or even 2 movie tickets?


I'm really not feeling sorry for myself, I just keep thinking that after 3 months I would be able to completely accept the reality of what I am facing.


I don't go out much -- other than to Dr. appointments, a track meet or to Sacrament meeting.  And when I do, someone is usually home to help me decide what to wear or I just wear something that has already had the "Dave or Lauren and Kenzi approval."  I know, I'm 45 and I'm a big girl I should be able to dress myself, but no matter what I have on, it just doesn't look like "me."  I'm bald, I slouch, my clothes fit differently... mostly I'm bald.  


On Sunday when I got ready to go to Sacrament meeting everyone was already at church and I wanted to wear my new hat Sue gave me at chemo.  I've never worn it before and hadn't decided what outfits it looked good with.  I finally decided on one but wasn't sure.  So I took a picture of myself in the mirror, text'd Dave and asked him if I looked ok.  Yes I really did text my husband a picture of me during church to get his approval.  I already know -- I'm worse than a teenager.  Dave didn't read his text and it was time to go to church.  Being the brave person I am I went -- without any prior approval.  Apparently I looked ok cause I got lots of compliments (who really would come up to bald chemo woman at church and say my hat and outfit looked silly?).  


After 3 months, in simple words what have I learned?

• I have great family, I have great friends.  

• Faith and hope and patience and gratitude are closely tied.  

• Even as an adult I'm really insecure.

• I don't like pain, but I can survive even with a lot of pain.

• No one can really prep you for how tough -- tough things really will be -- you just have to face them.  I thought I had a pretty good idea of how hard the surgery and chemo would be.  How I would feel physically and emotionally.  Wow, not even close!  Roxanne and Dave kind of tried to forewarn me about this, but it was something I had to experience on my own.  And although I feel like at times I've hit the lowest of lows, I can look back during the higher times and see that there is hope.  I can do it.

• Music is very calming and there is nothing good on TV.

• Little things make all the difference in the world.

• People are just good.  And people are soooo giving!!!!!!!!!!  I am surrounded by so many good people.

• If there is going to be a chance of something going weird it will happen to me.

• Scriptures can bring such great comfort.  Scriptures and conference talks take on different meaning at different times in your life. 

• Everyone has trials.  I have many friends and families that are facing different, but equally as challenging things right now.

• Laughing and crying both hurt a damaged stomach, but laughter doesn't leave you with a headache.

• Doctors and nurses and caregivers are amazing.

• Self-pity is ok in very short doses, only if followed by something positive. 

• Positive books, positive music, positive thoughts are a must -- I have to surround myself with positive.

• You can have good times and good memories and good things happen, even amidst really bad times with bad memories and bad things happening.

• It is super easy to fall into mundane, unimportant worries and desires -- even when you are facing something that gives you a reality check.

• Control -- what is control?  I have none.  And that is ok if I put the control in Heavenly Father's hands.

• For me and my family openness, honesty (even if it isn't pretty or what you want to hear) and humor about "not great things" works.

• Life goes on -- with or without me.  This is as it should be.  Dave and I have said that although our sweet little family is facing a very daunting trial, on a daily basis things really have changed.  Different people drive them places, Dad takes care of them more, some priorities have changed for us.  But their day-to-day activities and life as they know it has not been as monumentally impacted as I would have thought.