The beginning of my battles....

Have you ever read one of those blogs that you just wanted the person to get to the point and you skip over everything else? Well, this is probably one of them. I always wanted to write a book. I have an accounting degree, not an English degree. How did I ever think I could do something like a blog? We all think we have a story. Don't we? Of course. I just hope mine may help someone along the way. What better time to start then when you just took some Lortab. So...here I go!

First of all, let me catch you up on the last 41 years....I promise I will be as brief as possible.

I was born in 1969 right before Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. My sister, Laura, is 4 years older than me and swaddled me up like baby Jesus when I was a baby.She still likes to treat me like her baby, even at 41. My mom stayed home with us and my dad was a helicopter pilot in the Army. We lived in Ft. Rucker, AL and some of my first memories include laying in my bed taking a nap and waking up to my sister coming home from school and being so excited. I remember , one time, pulling a bottle of Coke off the counter and busting it on the floor, because they were all glass bottles then. Oh....I remember we had a babysitter one time when I was 3 or 4 and she was smoking. She wanted us to take a puff....yes, I'm serious. I tried and got all choked up. I think that is why I have never smoked in my entire life. (don't try this at home). I don't remember if I ever told my parents. I was always so shy growing up. I was usually attached to my mother's leg if we were out in public. I was always too scared to try things and usually stayed close to the safe confines of my house. As I started getting older, I ventured out a tiny bit, but never wanted to get too far out of my safe zone. My sister was a little less shy and more adventureous. There were a few times she got in trouble and I learned to do what I had to do so I wouldn't see the wrath of my dad, which wasn't that bad, but you never want your dad mad or disappointed in you. I became such a worrier for no real apparent reason. In my mind I thought we all had a set number of blessings from God and when they were all used up, things went down hill. I don't remember anyone telling me this, it was just my mind deciding how God worked.  Somehow it made me appreciate the good things in life at an early age. As a result of my worrying and my concept of numbered blessings I would sit by the window as I got older waiting and watching when my parents or sister would leave the house and go out, especially at night. I don't know if this was the start of my health's demise.

I had a pretty good childhood. We would go swimming, play golf with mom , go fishing with my dad, play in the wooded lot next door making trails and forts. We played barbies and "Charley's Angels". We even made a boy in the neighborhood play one of the angels. I think it was Sabrina. (I wonder how he turned out). We went skating, listed to Shawn Cassidy and Andy Gibb on the record player, and endlessly played with our Labrador. I remember standing on my bed alot and twinkling my nose trying to make myself fly. I watched too much "Bewitched". My best friend was Cynthia Heyman. I would go to her house to spend the night occasionally. Her house was always so much more fun. Isn't that always the case, though? We went swimming, played restaurant, and played with her hand help football game. I loved being at her house. I always loved coming home too though. My childhood was fun, safe, and happy. Even though I worried more than a child should have, I have so many happy memories. I seemed to have more boyfriends than I could count in middle school (I hope my child doesn't read this), but by the time I reached high school, I decided I was too shy and too fat (thank God).  I started staying inside more often and discovered Soap Operas. I would eat popcorn with lots of butter and sit and watch Days of Our Lives, which led to more added pounds than I liked. When I was a junior in high school I starting getting frequent stomach pains and more frequent trips to the bathroom. I was glad when the summer came along. I had a 1965 Karmengea and a driver's licence that would take me to the new mall that had a Taco Bell and a Chick Fil A, not to mention I had lost 20 pounds and could look as good in blue jeans as the other tiny girls around me in high school so I enjoyed buying new clothes a little more too. My jobs included constant babysitting for kids in my church, especially our preacher. I would drive to my piano lesson, then go to the mall and get a burrito from Taco Bell. I kept losing weight though, somehow. I kept drinking chocolate milk and taking hot baths thinking the milk would settle my stomach. Wrong!! I found out later that was the worst thing I could have done.

The first 3 days of my senior year started out a little off. I had a stomach virus that wiped me out and I just couldn't get over it. I missed getting a parking spot and my own locker. I had to share a locker with my best friend , JoNell ,and had to park way away instead of parking with the rest of the seniors. Looking back, somehow I think these type of things kept me humble and down to earth. God works in crazy ways. When I was half way through the year and had lost as much as 40 lbs  and running to the bathroom at least 15 times a day, I finally let my mom take me to the doctor. I kept pushing it off to "nerves". My mom and dad finally said enough and made me go. I was terrified. I was so scared I didn't want to know what was wrong. I prepped for a "sigmoidscopy" and went in the doctor's office. If any doctor ever wants to do that, say no, please. Ask for a colonoscopy and let them knock you out. They admitted me in the hospital that day and did a colonoscopy the next morning. I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. This was the end of any kind of normal life. Of course, normal is all relative. It became my new normal.

I am going to start these posts catching up and then I will start doing this day by day...I am already way behind where I wanted to be at this point. I am hoping to catch up before I start chemo for my breast cancer. oh wait.....I decided I didn't want that label. I am having chemo for the breast cancer I HAD! bear with me until I catch up. I have already had a double mastectomy and reconstruction. There have been several bumps in the road in between, but I will get to that. I don't know how many people will read this, but if this helps just one person see the many blessings the God has continued send my way, I will have done the job that God has given me. The one thing I want to relay through this process is how good God is. God has saved me from the depths of hell and has held me high through every battle. I don't know why I have to go through all of this, but I do know God is in control and whatever reason God has let me go through all my trials is not for my understanding. I do have my ups and downs mentally and spiritually, I'm human, but I trust God and know he will continue to hold me high and one day I will be made whole again by his never ending Grace and Love.  Until my next post....My the peace of Christ be with you!!!