Kellie's April Update

I'm standing on the scale the morning of my most recent surgery, which happened to be last Tuesday. There is a framed story eye level on the wall which can be summed up by the last line which went something like, "10% of life is what happens to you and 90% is how you choose to react." After all that has happened to me, starting with Porter's traumatic birth, I have really come to better understand and appreciate that sentiment. Though things have been happening to me all my life, none have taken on the signifcance and challenge of the events in the last 8 or so years.

Both Clint and I had had similar and different reactions to our sons and their disabilities. Porter's situation was easier for me to accept and manage, Parker's was easier for Clint. I knew that my feelings about Parker were not productive, helpful, or healthy. Luckily they didn't stop me from going through the motions of my motherly duties. I knew too, that my emotions had more to do with having another child with a disability, than they did with Parker himself. It took a good 7-8 months of time for me to wrap my head around and accept that inspite of all the "normal" children that were born to countless friends and family, both of my children would not be "normal."

Parker's first visit to Hogle Zoo was at about 4 months old. I remember sitting on a bench with him, watching family after family, large families here in Utah, with three, five, seven kids walk by, all seemingly healthy and normal, and wondering, "How does that happen?" Well, the answer is it just does. What happens, happens and then you deal with it.

So, just as I was finally getting to a good place with that situation, I was getting a preview to my latest life's lesson, my encounter with breast cancer. It seems that things happened both slowly and all at once. In the initial finding out phase, it was slow going, the results couldn't come in quick enough. Then they weren't conclusive enough, so there was more testing and waiting. After the cancer diagnosis came, then things couldn't move quickly enough. Get it out! Let's get going with the chemo! The faster I'm done the quicker I can get on with normal life! If anything, you would have thought that by now I would know that life is anything but normal.

So here I sit, with my newly reconstructed chest, practically built from scratch (which is what I had before all this started anyway). The implants are definitely softer, but it wouldn't have taken much to be softer than those rock hard tissue expanders. It feels better in a way that I didn't expect. Though I don't think I felt less than, through the removal of my breasts, I certainly feel more whole now. Holding and hugging my children even feels better. As I'm enjoying this recovery, (yes, I do enjoy certain aspects of the recovery process) I'm looking ahead at the next event to happen to me and preparing myself for how I'm going to react to it. I will be having a hysterectomy at the end of the school year/first of summer. So, the summer vacation I thought I'd have will now be altered, as has much of my life anyway. I'll be able to get some more rest in, which as a mother of young children doesn't happen until they're grown, right? I'll be able to enjoy my favorite guilty pleasure, reading. Please send any recommendations my way. I'll get the best nutrition and care from my saintly mother who will once again be caring for me and my family. Honestly, what would we do without mothers!

The Salt Lake Race for the Cure is coming up fast! May 10 is the special date! Hope to see you there! And don't forget about those self breast exams and annual checkups!