Stop, Reflect, Redirect

I am going in to my 8th week post surgery, 9th week out of work. To be quite honest, I am going stir crazy. I want to go back to work, but my nuerooncologist recommended I wait until after treatment. I decided to wait until mid way through treatment to decide whether I can handle it AND work, but treatment has just started. I was hoping to start the chemo and radiation over two weeks ago, but I was finally able to start treatment last Thursday after being told over and over "they are working on your treatment plan." After the last time I was told that, I made a call to Piedmont and asked if it was normal to wait so long. I heard back from Baptist 20 minutes later and started two days later. This is not a rant on Baptist, because I LOVE Baptist and would recommend them to anyone going through something like this. I am more or less ranting because I just want to go back to work.

People keep saying, "take care of you," "clean 'this' or read 'that' book you haven't had time for," "do things you never get the chance to do." And that's okay, I understand where they are coming from. But what I want is nothing more than to get back to doing what I love and that is working at WWP as a mental health specialist. No, work does not define me. I live for a lot of things in life and work just happens to be one of them. Not everyone gets to say they do what they love everyday. Not everyone gets to say they enjoy getting up in the morning and fighting traffic just to go work. Not everyone gets to say they are employed with an organization and with people who have a common goal and mission to make others' lives better...more importanly making the lives of the people who serve this great country and their families lives better. When I am at work I get to help warriors and their families understand why they feel the way they do, how to accept and work through their new normal as they battle the loss of a limb, loss of a loved one, or struggle with PTSD, anxiety, depression, etc etc. I live for that. I don't live for the paycheck every two weeks. I live to make a difference and I am blessed enough to be able to do that with my career.

Aside from that I will tell you, one of the hardest parts about right now is the fact that I don't look sick. Not that I want to look sick or even feel sick, but at least if I did people would understand why I am on short term disability and maybe I would not feel so guilty about not working. I feel like when people ask me how I am doing I shouldn't answer with "I feel great" or "I am doing great." But it is the truth. After surgery, I was walking the following day. I had surgery on a Thursday and stopped taking pain meds that Friday (it helps that I can't stand how they make me feel). Three weeks after surgery I was back to working out and doing crossfit a couple to three times a week. I haven't slowed down a beat. I now wait with anticipation that I will tire easily from the treatments or get sick from the chemo. So far, neither has happened and I hope I continue to defy the statistics. Time will tell.

With all that said, I would like to share of the many blessings that have happened while I have been out. A few weeks back when I was told to prepare to lose my hair from the radiation, my step dad suggested that Anthony (my fiance) and I try to have some wedding pictures taken. I set out to try and make that happen. And for the first time I became overwhelmed emotionally...not because I might lose my hair, but from the outpouring of love and support I had been recieving from friends, family and total strangers. I called Men's Warehouse in Orange Park and in telling them what I was facing was able to get Anthony's tux donated for the day (the manager I spoke with was so warm and accomadating, and was currently battling his 4th time with cancer). Our wedding photographers did not even hesitate to come and take pics separate from our engagement and our wedding day. Our venue graciously opened their doors so we could have the pictures taken where we are set to get married in September. A friend of our photographers offered her make up artistry for the occassion and my dad's girlfriend offered to pay to have my hair done. It was so wonderful and on a perfect evening we were able to have formal wedding pics taken in the event that I do not have hair for our actual wedding. I cried. I. cried. I had called my sister to tell her and invite her out to be apart of the event. At one point in the conversation, I again became overwhelmed with emotion and had to choke back tears. She realized I was crying and was speechless, she said "uh, uh, I don't know what to do or to say. You don't cry. I am the crier." I laughed out loud because it's true. This was the first time since my second diagnosis that I had cried. It felt good, but it didn't last long. They were ineed happy tears and I had so much to smile about!

Also since then I finally completed the process to officially recieve my Florida License for Mental Health Counseling (LMHC). That has been many years in the making. I had taken and passed the exam in January, but then got side tracked with the seizure, MRI results, surgery, and brain cancer diagnosis. But I could not possibly let my hard work go to waste! It feels great to have that little piece of paper that says I am a licensed clinician.

During this process, I have also joined several support groups through FB (I continue to attend Sontag Brain Tumor Support group monthly) and it has given me an outlet when needed, but moreso it has given me hope. So many times I read stories of those who defy the statistics. It helps to have other survivors share their experiences. While every person diagnosed with a brain tumor and/or brain cancer has a different experience, reading about someone who has the same diagnosis and is a many year survivor makes me happy. It is a constant reminder to not give up.

There are so many things to be grateful for each day. I may have started this blog a bit on the negative side, complaining about being out of work, but inside I know I am blessed. All I have to do is look around and reflect within and I realize I am blessed beyond words. I began a challenge (as seen on FB) to identify 100 things that make me happy in 100 days #100daysofhappy. This, too, has helped me stop, reflect, redirect negative thoughts and remember to count my blessings. Without a doubt 9.5 out of 10 days I am doing and feeling wonderful. But being human allows even the strongest and most positive people to have their down days.

Here is my quote for today: "There are exactly as many special occasions in life as we choose to celebrate."

Make today a day to celebrate. :)

See you all next time! Love and hugs!

Another day, another experience, but a whole different perspective...

I hear and see things differently now. I made mention of this in a previous blog post a long time ago when I was first diagnosed with a Diffuse Astrocytoma Grade II brain tumor, but I am reminded of it again following my recent adventures with Timmy the tumor. I hear songs on the radio and they mean different things to me now than they ever would have before this journey started. Songs like "I'll love you through it" by Martina McBride or "It was you" by Garth Brooks or "Live like you were dying"  by Tim McGraw.

I see things in a different light, with a more tender and understanding heart; I feel more forgiveness than I ever have and it is comforting. I see the yellow flower on a cloudy day, the one that stands alone among dead grass, loose dirt...I see the flower that otherwise by all accounts should not have survived where it grew and realize that on that day I saw that single, lonely flower on that nasty, cloudy day it was God. It was God showing me that I need to remember Him in those times...in the times when there seems to be no hope and remember He is the answer, He is the way, He is the life.

Then I wonder Why don't more people see and hear and feel the way I do? I have to remember that for most people it takes a traumatic event of sorts to help them realize the beauty in things, to truly not take things for granted the way our society tends to, to develop patience, kindness, inner peace and deep love. That traumatic event can be loss of a loved one, serving in a war albeit Iraq or Afghanistan, any war for that matter...or as it was for me, that traumatic event can be a brain tumor diagnosis.

If you have been following me, you are aware that my medical team discovered a new spot in mid March following a first time seizure. It was recommended that I go through with a second brain surgery to remove the tiny spot and test it in order to determine if further treatment would be needed. The tumor they resected April 10, 2014 came back from pathology as a Grade III or now what is called Anaplastic Astrocytoma and is considered malignant. Grade III cells "are abnormal and tend to grow rapidly. They often invade healthy brain tissue and have a tendency to recur." Anaplastic Astrocytomas "grow more rapidly and aggressively than lower grade astrocytomas. The term anaplastic is used to describe cells that divide quickly and do not look at all like the normal cells. They tend to invade surrounding brain tissue, which can complicate surgical removal." My overall surgery went well as they were able to, again, do a total gross resection...which means Dr. Chandler was able to remove all of the tumor that he could see. I have some deficit this time around that I did not have last time. I have a lot of neuropathy on the right side, primarily in my leg and foot. It makes it very awkward to walk, balance, but mostly it makes it feel numb in a sense on that side. It's not painful and for that I am grateful. It feels like my leg and foot is in a constant state of that "being asleep" feeling when you have sat on it too long. Outside of that, I have been told no more driving until September which will be the six month mark from the time I had the seizure. For me, that's the most difficult. Not being able to drive is a total loss of freedom. I am not one that likes to rely on others, but here I am, totally and utterly reliant on others for transportation to anywhere...which includes when I am released to go back to work (hopefully soon). Although difficult, it has been easier to avoid driving at least the past week because my right side is numb. The neuropathy will hopefully subside over time. Otherwise, I don't notice other deficits that are worthy of mentioning.

So, what does all this mean? Well, I will have to go forward with treatment including radiation and chemotherapy. I don't know exactly what that means just yet as I have my follow up appointment on April 26th coming up, but my understanding is it will likely be radiation every day for 30 days and then a chemo pill that will be 5 days on 23 days off for something like a year. I have read and heard a lot about different side effects, but there is no reason to harp on or worry about those until they happen (I am sure there will be another blog about them entirely). It also means absolutely NOTHING. Knowing this information means nothing at all. I have been witness to loss from this terrible disease, but I have also been witness to the unshakable promise that God will see us through this terrible disease regardless of statistics. So all the information in the world means nothing until something happens. I am armed with a great medical team and will pursue treatment as needed. I am blessed with an incredible team of support of friends and family and even strangers that have and continue to pray for me and keep me in their thoughts (many of you reading this right now). I read a quote recently that I love: There isn't enough room in your mind for both worry and faith. You must decide which one will live there. I choose faith.

You may be reading all of this thinking that I have been dealing with this whole situation intellectually...without feelings to an extent. That may be partly true. Being a therapist by trade I have a tendency to be more concerned with others than with myself. I worry more about my family my fiance, my friends and how they are going to handle this experience.  I recognize this battle is just as hard, if not harder on them, as they watch helplessly. As weird as it may sound, I am truly thankful that it is me walking this journey and not them. When my friend (who is also a therapist) asked me how I felt the other day I deterermined I was indifferent. I can assure you all that my diagnosis does not come without its fair share of concerns at times, maybe even a few tears and worries about the future. Hell, I am getting married in 5 months! Will my hair fall out before my wedding? Will I live long enough to be an awesome wife to my soon to be husband? Will I have the chance to be a mother? What will I be remembered by? What kind of legacy will I leave?

With all of that being said, I think I have gone on long enough for this post. I could probably keep going, though, but what would I write about later if I get it all out now? :) I will update more as I know more information about upcoming treatment and side effects. Stay tuned and as always, thanks for your continued support, love and prayer. All my love...

Come Thursday Morning (a poem)

As I lay me down to sleep
I pray that all my friends You'll keep
Safe from harm and intrusive thoughts
Let them rest and find them peace

Calm them with Your words I pray
My family, too, in Your arms they sway
To give them comfort, guidance and love,
To understand Your way

This journey I am on has more questions than not
But neither fear nor uncertainty has this chapter taught
Rather tranquilty and assurance have You lead me to
For should I pass on, a life You will give me anew

Streets of gold and pearly gates
Are a promise from You that You will surly make
But who knows what the future will bring
No matter the outcome
Death has lost its sting

I pray to You, Lord, if this shall be my time
Please comfort my friends and family
Those I call mine in this time
For it is with them where my worry lies
Because with You I would be an angel, I would fly

My loved ones may not understand Your design
And if I am honest, neither do I
But in You I will continue to trust
For it is Your plan for me, for them, for us.

Amen.

The night before 2nd craniotomy update

Good evening to all of my Timmy followers:

I thought I would take the time to update those who want to know about my progress before my surgery. So, if you read my last post it said I was scheduled for surgery on April 8th. Well, after finding out that my insurance was taken at Piedmont Brain Tumor Center in Atlanta, GA I decided to grace Dr. Chandler with my presence once again. Everything happened very quickly and once I made the decision I had to schedule a consultation with Dr. Chandler (my surgeon), Dr. Dunbar (the neuro oncologist who specializes and only focuses on brain tumors), pre-op, and another MRI as well as the surgery. Anthony, my dad and I packed up and drove to Atlanta this past Sunday, April 6th in preparation for the appointments and the surgery which is now scheduled on the 10th. My mom, step dad and sister will be joining my "Timmy entourage" tomorrow (Wednesday).

Thank goodness for my very good friends, Lindsey and Will and their two daughters, for their unbelievable hospitality. They have blessed us with a place to stay for free for the week while we are here. A lot of this would not have been possible without them. THANK YOU Lindsey, Will, Mia, and Livy!

So, I had my appointments with Dr. Chandler and Dr. Dunbar yesterday. Got a big hug from Dr. Chandler! He is so awesome...while I was eager to discuss what was going to happen come day of sugery, he was eager to find out what I had been up to the past two years of my life instead. After telling him about the birth of my niece, passing the Florida state licensure exam for Mental Health Counseling (LMHC), starting an incredible career with Wounded Warrior Project, staying active with soccer and crossfit, and of course GETTING MARRIED in September we were able to discuss Timmy. He and I reviewed the past couple of weeks of craziness that started this mess from the night of the seizure (March 8th), the trip to the ER with a CAT scan and MRI, the meeting with Dr. Nijjar (nuerologist/ March 12th), the 2nd MRI with Baptist (March 14th), the call from Dr. Petre 3 hours later (nuerosurgeon at Bapist that took over for Dr. Chandler when he left to go to Piedmont), to the meeting with Dr. Petre(March 17th) in order to discuss the infamous new spot and treatment options. After meeting with Dr. Chandler Monday, I immediaely met with Dr. Dunbar. She basically reiterated everything Dr. Chandler said, provided me with a ton of information on my type of tumor, and agreed that sugery was the best option because until we know what it is we can't really discuss options for "treatment." What I do know is that I will have to do radiation and chemo if it's a higher grade and if it is the same low grade then I could just continue with MRI's as I have been. Regardless, literature and research do not show favorable long term outcomes. But since when I have I fit statistics?

Today I had yet another MRI that they will then use for the sugery itself. I had what they call a functional MRI on top of the with and without contrast MRI. Basically, in the functional MRI, they have you tap your fingers and wiggle your toes that light up the parts of the brain that control that part so they can avoid causing as much damage as possible to my right side since that is my dominant side. The machine they used, I was told, is one of three of the same, unique and most powerful MRI machines in the state of GA. It was crazy loud and a crazy long process...like two hours. Now, tomorrow I just relax, enjoy my stay and wait for Thursday when the surgery is scheduled. I have to be at the hospital at 5:30am Thursday, surgery is scheduled for 7:30am. Dr. Chandler does not believe the surgery will take longer than about an hour and a half. He expects that I will be up and around by the end of the day and said I may be discharged by Friday if all goes well. It will all depend on the surgery and again, we won't know until we know.

Other than that, it is just a hurry up and wait type thing. And that's what we shall do. Hurry up and wait for the pathology results, hurry up and wait for the treatment options...but I will not hurry up and wait to live life. I will continue living life as I always have. :) Goodnight folks!

 Until next time...

I knew this day would come eventually...just not this soon

Hey Timmy followers:

I feel I should start this entry with a reminder. A reminder that on October 8, 2011 I was involved in a car accident that saved my life, a car accident that lead me to the discovery of a brain tumor that otherwise could have killed me later. Instead, God gave me a fighting chance by showing me early in its stages. And for that I am forever grateful.

The journey thus far has also been just as much a blessing as finding it. I had a total gross resection on April 26, 2012. Because the entire tumor was found to be all grade II I did not have to follow up with chemo or radiation, rather I just needed MRIs every six months. No big deal. Thank you Jesus. I was driving again two weeks after surgery and back to work four weeks later. Amen.

On my one year scan, the surgeon who took the place of Dr. Chandler at Lyerly Neurosurgery, Dr. Petre, requested I follow up again in three months instead of six months. He had seen something that could be a concern. I did as requested and in July 2013 I was cleared to go back to every six month scans.

Fast forward 7 months, I had a MRI scheduled for March 21st. Again, The Lord had different plans and on March 8, 2014 my fiancé, Anthony, awoke to a weird screaming or grunting sound I was making. It startled him to find me staring wide-eyed and unresponsive. By his account he tried to shake me, speak loudly, anything he thought he could do to get me to come to. He began asking me questions about my work, what I did, who he was, who I was...things I would..or should know. He said I kept repeating my name over and over. I then would repeat, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Also by his account I became agitated and angry at one time, so much so that he backed away from me out of fear. He continued talking to me and with me. Eventually, and my first memories of coming to were of being frightened and confused. I remember being convinced that someone was in the house. Anthony lead me around the house, I wouldn't let him let go of my hand, to show me no one was there that could or would hurt us. He said I hugged the wall the entire time out of my own fear. Once settled he suggested we go to the ER for what he assumed was a seizure. And so we did.

At the ER I felt fine...if anything I was exhausted because we had only been sleeping for an hour before this happened. Anthony told his story to the doctors and they admitted me. They completed a CAT scan. Nothing. They ordered an MRI...that took forever. And no results were ever read. They wanted to keep me overnight. I opted out and decided to follow up with my care team at Baptist instead. So I signed out AMA (against medical advice) and went home with instructions to not drive. Yeah. Ok.

I called my surgeons office secretary and explained my circumstances. She referred me to Baptist Neurology. Made and went to an appointment that Wednesday. To try and shorten the story, the neurologist assumes by my account that I likely had a complex partial seizure. Greeeeat. I needed to follow up with another MRI,  blood work, an EEG, my surgeon and an oncologist. Wait...what? An oncologist? But I've never technically had cancer. The next day I called to schedule an MRI and the one I had scheduled for March 21st got quickly moved to March 14th. And so I went. Not 4 hours later my surgeons office called saying Dr. Petre needed to see me and the soonest he could get me in would be March 17th at 9am. This. Can't. Be. Good.

I go in to see Dr. Petre with my entourage...because I don't go to these major appointments without my dad, mom and step dad (my sister and niece would have come but decided they might be more of a distraction at this point and I told Anthony not to come since we already look like a circus act rolling thru hahaha!!). He comes in to the room and wastes no time saying that the image came back with some concern for the same spot he saw several months back. But I thought it wasn't there in the last one I did. He showed us the scans, side by side. Pretty clearly I saw the spot. It was right on the side of the cavity of the previous tumor. It wasn't until after seeing the MRI that I asked if he even had info on the fact that it is assumed I had a seizure the week before. He was not aware of my incident and that's why I had the MRI and what I was there to address. Prior to me telling him that he was offering options like waiting and watching, radiation, OR surgery. After hearing about the seizure...options were kinda off the table. We needed to get in, get it out and find out what, if anything this spot was. He (or someone) is going to have to perform a craniotomy...on me...again.

A lot of people have been asking me how I feel. Honestly, I feel okay. I can say it's a little strange that Timmy is trying to make an appearance so soon. Dr. Chandler estimated at least 5 years before we might see something again. But, At this point there is no real reason to panic. We don't know what we are dealing with until we get it out. Only then will we know if I will need to follow up with chemo, radiation, etc. I very well could only need continued follow ups and MRIs again. Who knows? God knows. And in HIM I still and will always trust. He has written my book. This is just another chapter. This time could be worse or it could be just as good as before. This time I could have more deficits or none at all. What I do know is that I'm ready. For anything...I am ready. I will not lay down and give up, I will continue to fight as I always have. I will expect the best and pray for my family and friends enduring this who feel helpless as they wait and watch. Do me a favor...wait upon The Lord, look upon The Lord, lean on him and do not grow weary. He comforts those in need. That is why I do not fear, I do not worry, I do not hold on it what could be. What will be will be. My faith is in Him.

As of right now my surgery is scheduled for April 8, 2014. Could have been sooner but I have a 5k to run in Tampa on March 29th for ABTA and I don't plan on missing it. :)

On a lighter note, Anthony and I have set a date and we are getting married September 19, 2014. Woo!! Good thing we started planning this thing early! Pretty much all the details are done, bought and paid for with the exception of the rest of the venue and food. Yay us!

Stay tuned.

In life, the only thing constant is the Trinity...and death

It's the beginning of October and so many things have happened since my last post. For one, my dear friend Lindsey whom I spoke about being placed in hospice in my last post passed away. I was able to visit with her 3 times before she passed. Her husband and family put on the most beautiful celebration of her life in July. What a blessing to be apart of such a wonderful memorial. Many people spoke about the impact Lindsey had on their lives and the Festival of Singers of Florida performed beautiful ballads on her behalf. They also played a video in which Lindsey was apart of the Festival of Singers before she passed. The song has become one of my favorite songs and really shows how incredibly talented Lindsey was as a singer (she's the soloist in the song). You can watch it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=787WnJ1JHLs

The month of June was a rough one of the Sontag Brain Tumor support meeting. We lost 3 members in the same month...all losing their battle to brain cancer. It's a grim reality and yet all too common when fighting this disease. I almost feel silly to be apart of the group because my diagnosis was Grade II and I never had to do chemo or radiation after my surgery. At the same time, I love being apart of the group and sharing in other's triumphs as well as struggles each month; celebrating clean scans and providing hope and prayer for returning masses. I feel apart of a minority in that most of the general public have no idea what it's like to face such adversity like brain cancer. So, Grade II or not, I am not necessarily better off than my friends in the support group. We are all fighting the same battle...all in different stages.

I also mentioned last time that I was having a follow up scan in July, three months after my 1 year scan. It came back clean and I am good to go back to every 6 months for now. So, my next scan will be in January. Hopefully then my insurance will help pay for it. Otherwise, I will continue to pay a small amount each month for the rest of my life.

On a super high note, I GOT ENGAGED! My boyfriend of two years, the one who has seen me through this battle since day one (certainly got more than he bargained for) proposed last Friday. :)
I couldn't be happier. He has been one of my biggest supports, along with my family, through this whole ordeal and I can't imagine facing what the future has for me without him. We haven't set a date or started making plans just yet, but soon enough we will and I may talk all about it in another blog.

I can't think of anything else at the moment to update so until next time, God Bless!

All too real

It's been a while since I have written anything regarding my journey with Timmy the Tumor. And I will get to the update soon. But, my primary reason for writing this entry today is because the prognosis of what we (all those affected by this disease) have is grim. I have learned that very quickly in the past two days alone. For those that have been following me, you all know that I attend the Sontag Brain Tumor Support Groups monthly in Jacksonville, FL. Just yesterday, our support group family was informed that a wonderful woman who attended with us lost her battle to the brain tumor she fought for so long. And again this morning, I was made privy to the information that a good friend of mine, who also attends(ed) the meeting is now on hospice, unable to speak, left to communicate with her "expressive eyes and wonderfully telling facial expressions." She is and has been fighting the fight of her life against the terrible thing we call a brain tumor.

I cried hearing the news. Doctors have said there is nothing more they can do for her. My heart is broken and my prayers go out to her husband and her family. She is in her early 30's. That's what makes it so real. I am 28 years old. While I have been blessed throughout my journey, I know at any moment I could be facing the same ordeal. I don't tend to linger on the life expectancy...in fact more often I hold on to the stories of success, the stories of survival. And Lindsay, my friend who is at this point losing her battle with her brain tumor, was diagnosed with a GBM...and I, a Diffuse Astrocytoma Grade II. My understanding through research and questions is that a GBM is essentially a Grade IV of what I have. Few, if any, win the battle against a GBM. From the time I met Lindsay I knew she was a fighter. She had been diagnosed, surgery immediately followed and like me, had very little side effects from her initial surgery. She underwent chemo and radiation which I fortunately have not had to experience. She went back to work as an Elementary School music teacher (and I hear she is VERY talented).I think it was about six months later in another support meeting when I realized she was slower than she used to be, had to concentrate more on walking, and was losing use of her right hand. She was still in high spirits as she updated the group on her progress and set backs. The next month she was wheeled in to the group in a wheelchair by her husband and mother who had traveled in to town to help care for her while her husband worked. At this point, she was no longer working. That was just last month. And now, I get a call this morning that they have placed her on hospice. It's unbelievable how quickly things can go from good to bad to worse. In the blink of an eye, your whole life can change.

Thinking about that concept--how your life can change in the blink of an eye--on the way to work this morning, it made me realize how insignificant some things are...and yet how often we allow the insignificant things to control what we do, our mood, how we react. For instance, just yesterday morning I was complaining to a friend on the phone about the traffic I was sitting in on the way to work. We complain when it rains outside, we complain when it's too hot. We complain when things are not what or how we want them to be. Reality set in this morning...why do I/we complain over things we have no control over? Why can't I/we just be grateful for every second we breathe the gift of life? Be thankful for the rain for it gives life to everything we see around us? Be blessed by the sun when it shines and heats our skin by its very touch...even if its 110 degrees outside? These are God's creations! They are privileges to humanity, not a right. At any moment, they could be taken by our Creator. And I realized that when Sontag Foundation lost a God fearing woman Monday, and hearing/seeing the struggle in another God fearing woman today. DO NOT TAKE LIFE FOR GRANTED!

As for an update on myself. I had a one year scan in April. I sent my scans to Dr. Chandler (my surgeon who as since moved to Atlanta, GA to work with Peadmont Brain Tumor Center) who stated that everything looked good and we were clear to do another scan in 6 months. Then, Dr. Petr called (I had to have my scans ordered through him as he works at Lyerly Neurosurgery where Dr. Chandler used to work) suggested having a scan in 3 months instead of 6 months. After discussing with Dr. Petr, Dr. Chandler also agreed. Both stated that they did not see anything of grave concern, but it would be beneficial to follow up sooner than later and thus a 3 month scan would be better than a 6 month scan. It should be scheduled in July coming up. I am not too concerned as I know Dr. Chandler has always been up front and brutally honest with me. So I will update when that time comes.

Otherwise, life has been life at its finest. My sister had my niece in October right after I updated the last time I believe. Then of course we celebrated Thanksgiving and then Christmas and New Years. I left my previous job working at a Methadone Clinic, started working at a Private Inpatient Substance Abuse called Lakeview Health Systems and I was there for about 6 months when the opportunity of a life time presented itself. In a whirlwind of interviews (5 in 3 weeks), I was selected to be the next new member of Wounded Warrior Project as a WWP Talk Specialist! It's been a very exciting adventure and one I plan to be apart of for a very long, long.....long time. I am so honored and blessed to be apart of an amazing organization. I thank God daily for this opportunity and it just serves as another reminder of how great life is. It serves as another reminder to be truly thankful for the gift of life and to be able to give the gift of life to the warriors we serve.

I may not know what life has in store for Lindsay, for me, or for any other person fighting this battle...but what I do know is that Jesus knows. He has already written our life story and knows the ending. I just want to enjoy the pages.

God Bless Yvonne and Rest in Peace 6/10/13

God Bless Lindsay and may you be surrounded in peace for all of the rest of your days. We love you girl!