Feet Back Under Me: Different Doesn’t Mean Easy or Lucky

From my own personal experience and from reading posts from many different people I am starting to see people, who have had cancer and who haven’t , almost catogorize what level of good or bad you went through because it was different. I have two experiences that show two different ways people did not think before they spoke.

1.  I am fairly open about my cancer and what kind I have. Often people ask me for the kind of cancer after they find out I have had it. I was in a group of college students when this came up and I said I had Endometrial Cancer and explained it was a form of uterine cancer. One person actually told me that I was lucky it wasn’t breast cancer or something. No one in this group of people seemed to understand just how out of line that statement was.  What was lucky about this?  Was I lucky that I was bleeding so much that in less than a week I had 5 units of blood given to me?  Was I lucky to be told that I would never be able to have my own kids?  Was I lucky that I was thrown into surgical
Menopause at the age of 33?  Perhaps I was lucky to have had to go through 6 rounds of chemo therapy. Maybe I was lucky to have to spend a minimum of a week on my back after each treatment because I was too tired to move which was ok since moving made me want to throw up the tiny bit of food and drink I had managed to swallow. Perhaps I was lucky that I lost all of my hair?  Maybe I was lucky that 5 and a half years later I still can’t drive from Virginia to Michigan because it wipes me out to the point of shaking I’m so tired and my eyes go all blurry from exhaustion?   Doesn’t sound very lucky to me.

2.  As mentioned above, one of the things I’m apparently “lucky” to have experienced in a cancer other than breast cancer is infertility. In a very misguided attempt to try to make me feel better about this daily struggle a complete stranger who over heard a conversation I was having with a friend on the phone felt it was her responsibility to make me feel better. She leaned over after I hung up (I was in a coffee shop) and informed me that the bright side of not being able to have kids is I can spend more time for myself and not have to constantly be thinking about someone else. Also, according to her, if I really wanted to have a kid someday I could adopt.   From a complete stranger!  I was in shock!!  Let’s see, spend more time on me when all I have ever wanted more than anything was to be a mother. And yes, let me dip into my savings and pull out about $20 to $30 grand to start the adoption process. Because the average single woman just has that kind of money laying around. And let’s completely ignore the struggle of accepting this complete and total reversal of what you had hoped and prayed for your life to be.

Now, perhaps these people don’t hear their own words. Maybe they honestly think they are giving up happy news or sage advice. I don’t know. But I do know this kind of unthought and sometimes unsolicited advice isn’t just something cancer survivors have to deal with. Anyone who is going through something painfully difficult will find themselves the recipient of these “helpful” words. From miscarriages to chronic health conditions to loosing family members to being separated from loved ones due to military deployments or multiple work trips. I am begging everyon, no matter who you are to the person you are talking to...take two seconds and ask if these words are perhaps the best way to express yourself.   Too often I have found myself staring in shock at people and unable to form words. Or sometimes just trying to smile and shrug it off because I don’t have the emotional energy to engage at that moment. It isn’t our sole responsibility to kindly and gently correct someone that their words are in fact like daggers to the heart. Let’s all be aware how our words affect others.

That all being said, I really don’t want to end this post on a negative note so I want to look at all the things I am blessed with after going through this experience.
1. I am blessed to have deepened my Faith.
2.  I am blessed that I found a direction in life that lead me to a field of work that I love!
3. I am blessed that I was able to work through some of the pain of not having children and found a love for fostering.
4.  I am blessed by the people I meant along my journey and that I continue to meet and be inspired by and learn from.
5.  I am blessed to have my family and close friends encourage me and be there for me when I’m laughing and when I’m crying.
6.  I am blessed that even though my energy isn’t the same, each year I am doing more and more and pushing back that wall of exhaustion.
7.  I am blessed that in a few minutes I’ll finish up my lunch break and dive back into my job and look forward to the many fun things I have planned to do...because I CAN!

Feet Back Under Me: Unexpected

Today has been a different kind of day. And not for any of the reasons I thought it would be.  For a while now, I have been encouraged to consider genetic counseling and genetic testing.  I really fought this for a long time.  It was something that in my mind only held bad news.  That something terrible was going to be found.  That out of this test I would only hear devastating words.  In my mind nothing good could come out of this.

It is crazy how you can build something up so much that it becomes this menacing, faceless thing that no one else seems to understand will crush you.  You find yourself unable to face it and all you want to do is run away.  It's like this every time genetic counseling or testing was brought up to me until one day this week...it wasn't.  As the doctor talked about it I waited for the anxiety to build uncontrollably and become overwhelming.  But all I could think was...my sister was right.  I needed to face this.  And I was finally ready to face this.

Since I was diagnosed I have had severe anxiety whenever I had to go to the doctor's office.  I don't think I have ever gotten a normal blood pressure reading at any visit!  My coping mechanism was to act like it was no big deal to most people, but my parents can fully attest that this is a very thin façade.  However, since moving out of Michigan and getting to where I am now, I have had to learn to go to the doctor's alone.  No buffer to reach out to and touch and ground myself.  I had to do that job on my own.  And I am pretty bad at it.  At 39 I am not ashamed to say that I call my parents on a pretty regular basis and more so when I have to see a doctor.

I was at the oncologist's office for the first time in a few years this week to check up on two years of irregular cells found on my annual tests.  And oddly enough, through the anxiety and fear that is a constant companion when I am at any doctor's office lately, I found myself not just acting calm...but starting to feel calm.  I felt like for the first time in a long time that this part of my life was going to be ok.  That I had doctors who I could trust and I knew understood what has happened and what I was going through every day since then.  That the nightmare was in fact not waiting around the corner to grab me again.  And  when genetic counseling was gently suggested and explained, I found myself actually wanting those answers.  No trumpets heralded this total Mentanoa.  It was this gentle shift from acting like I can handle this alone to actually being able to handle this but not feeling completely alone.

And so today I met with the genetic counselor who explained the scary monster and suddenly it wasn't so scary.  It was science.  It was order and made sense.  It was almost reassuring how the process works and what they look for and why they look for specific things.  It is like making a plan and feeling like someone who knows has your back.  It's everything I feel when I step into my church and come face to face with God.  Its realizing that in this science and order is the same reassuring God Who is in my church, my soul and in my faith.  He has always been there beside me and I have always felt Him there.  But tonight, thinking back on the afternoon, I realize that He isn't just there to be that comfort...He is handing me all the strength I need to live my life and to take care of myself.  To not be afraid of what I don't know.  And to not live in fear of what might happen.

My dad is always telling me that life is what happens when you are busy planning.  This doesn't mean not to plan but rather, live your life every day.  And today that included taking a trip from the second floor of the cancer center to the first floor and breathing through a blood draw and then letting it go for four weeks.  Tonight it meant watching a movie and tomorrow it means going to a beeping Easter Egg hunt.  In four weeks it will mean to create a plan to make sure my doctors and I are keeping an eye on the right things, and then go home and prepare for my respite foster kiddos.  And who knows what else the future holds.  I know I will be afraid and anxious still sometimes but today I let go of that and it felt good.

Feet Back Under Me: Thank You Lord

The last two months have been something else.  It almost feels like a laundry list of difficult moments!  Emotions ranging from sad, to angry to astonished and confused to fear and frustration!  I will admit that there have also been a fair share of good things too!  I have laughed a lot, shared heartfelt conversations, done crazy and silly things and found a comfort in my faith and peacefulness in God's creation.

I feel like this is all just quite simply life.  But sometimes it takes time to process it and life doesn't always give you that time.  So I had to break it down.  Go through it and acknowledge the not so good and the good alike.

Not so good: a violation of my privacy and trust and the struggle of deciding if I should go on sharing my story and my journey through this blog.
Good: learning to be more aware of the people around me and learning prudence as well as not letting fear, that all to often present acquaintance, get the better of me.

Not so good:  abnormal cells found a second year in a row and the over whelming anxiety and fear felt for almost two weeks!
Good: getting the all clear from the doctor that upon further investigation there is still no evidence of disease.  However, I was referred to go speak to a gyno oncologist just to be on the safe side and make sure everything that can't be seen is all good.

Not so good:  still no foster child.  So many people around me with new babies, pregnant, adopting.  Me praying to God to be a mother.

Good: Being a foster parent means that before they come to me a child must be hurting and I do not want any child to hurt.

And then I looked only at the good.

Good: I am surrounded at work and in my personal life by kind and caring people who are all prayer warriors!

Good:  I live in one of the most beautiful areas on God's earth and can easily find the beauty in God's creation that brings me peace.

Good: I have learned to turn more and more to God with my fear and sadness and troubles and find Him soothing my heart and soul.

Good: Visiting with friends and seeing the lovely creations God has made through their love in the form of smiling and beautiful babies.

Good: Exploring all over and rediscovering old haunts and creating new ones.  Taking the time God has given me and filling it with good and happy memories.

Good:  Doing things that make me smile like coloring my hair purple and blue!!!!

Good: Talking with my parents and siblings and sharing personal moments and happy moments.

Good:  Finding new ways and continuing old ways of sharing my story in the hopes I can help as many people as possible find the good in their lives, hope and moments to smile over, even in the midst of any frightening life changes they may be going through.

In that spirit, while I will continue to write and post this blog on the support groups I am in, I have also started a private Facebook group where I can also share more through pictures, videos and hear from you and your stories.  If you would like to join, it is called Life After Cancer.  It is a closed group so you will have to request to join.  In sharing my story I want to encourage others to share their stories.  There are no pre-requisites to be a member.  Maybe it is cancer or infertility or diabetes or the loss of a family member.  We all go through different things in life that change us and will take a long time to handle and process.   I know it has been over 5 years since I went through it all and I am finding I am still going through it and trying to negotiate through life.  For me, sharing helps me process and I want to invite you to share too or just sit back and read and maybe I can in some small way help you or at the very least. make you smile.

Finally, I just want to say, Thank You Lord for Your support and comfort and blessings over the past few months.  Thank You Lord for Your constant presence and the people You have sent into my life, for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  Thank You Lord for helping me every day and Thank You Lord for Your love and strength.

Feet Back Under Me: Foster Mama in Waiting...and waiting, and waiting, and waiting

Patience, I think, is something we all work on every day.  Some situations we can be as patient as a saint...while other things seem to test us to the breaking point.  I am now in month number 6 waiting for a foster placement.  I thought for sure this past week it was going to happen.  Two little ones who needed a home.  Two little ones who needed some extra love.  

Waiting to get the final word if they would come to me I had images in my head that were quite the jumble!  First I was thinking practical.  I'll have to call my boss and let him know the placement finally came and I wouldn't be into work the next day.  I would have to hit up Walmart in the middle of the night for some PJ's and a change of clothes in their size. Work out day care and school over the next few days.  Talk about taking family leave.  Then there were the random thoughts of kissing sleeping in goodbye.  Well, realistically, probably kissing sleeping in consecutive hours  goodbye until they were settled in.  Then the thoughts that made me smile.  Those small moments when you see your kiddo sleeping restfully.  That moment when they finally take your hand.  Or when they turn to you for help on even a little thing like zipping up their coat.  I know in fostering these are milestones because they show the tiniest bit of trust just MIGHT be forming.  All of this swirling in my head in no particular order.  And then the word finally comes.  They aren't coming to me. They find a home that has more beds than I do and they don't have to split up the siblings.  That is a good and wonderful reason for them to not come to me and I am  happy for them.  Even thought it feels to them that their world is falling apart around them and they are scared and sad and angry.  I do know that at least they are together.

Then I get home and walk inside and it is perfectly quiet.  I set my alarm without having to consider someone waking up before me.  I turn on Netflix and curl up on the couch, not having to make sure the volume isn't too high.  I ask God to take care of those two littles that almost came to me and then I ask Him...WHEN?  When is it my turn to be a mother even if it is only until their mother can take care of them?  When is it going to be my turn to be sleep deprived and proud that my kiddo put their shoes on the right feet for the first time alone...then realize I am wearing two different shoes?  When is it my turn to see those milestones of a child becoming a child again?  When do I get to finally, after working hard to gain their trust, maybe, just maybe, have them curl up in my arms and rock them to sleep?

Then I remember.  It isn't going to happen on my time line.  It is going to happen when it is the right time.  In God's time. Four times I have received that call and four times, for various reason, it hasn't worked out.  And so I wait for the fifth call and hope and pray that maybe this will be the time.

Feet Back Under Me: Even More Changes 5 Years Out!

  Ok, so it has been quite a while since I have written something. Last month I hit five years since my last chemo. The big date that is made such a big deal of. I’ll admit I had mixed emotions that day. It was overwhelming and at the same time I didn’t want it to be. I wanted it to be like every other day. But it wasn’t. It brought a lot of memories back. Both good and bad. A couple times I could almost feel myself sitting in that lazy boy chemo chair. My hand kept going to where my port use to be all day and I found myself touching my hand to the top of my head like I use to do constantly when I was bald!  I also spent time looking around me. I saw my coworkers I have been with the past year. I spent time outside looking at my mountains and feeling happy to be back home in Virginia after so many years. I walked into my townhouse and felt comfortable and homey. Every emotion was intense and sometimes raw. And I still found myself laughing between the sobbing!  Yes, sobbing. I called my mom and just let loose in probably an incoherent way everything I was feeling!  And she made sense out of it for me. And then reminded me where I was in life.

She reminded me that last spring and this summer I took Foster Parent classes and was certified to foster in August. Taking a big step to being a mom finally. She reminded me that I had learned so much about myself with these classes. That I had grown a lot in this past year of being home in Vieginia again.  I let the happiness of these things wash over me. 

I talked to the man I love and who loves me and he reminded me that I don’t have to live in those terrifying and heart breaking memories.  They will always be there but I can choose to not let them over whelm me. That I can look at all the wonderful things in my life. And there are a lot of them. 

So, as always, I gave myself another goal. Another step into living my life.  I’ve been wanting to buy my own house for a long time. Long before I ever got sick.   And while I love my job, I won’t get to buying a house on my salary alone. So I took the plunge. I started my own business with Thirty-One! That is going to get me to my house. My next goal. And if you want to help, please do!!  Go to my Facebook group page Cat’s Totes and More and add yourself and shop and host a party!! So many great hostess perks!  And let’s  face it, Thirty-One has CUTE stuff!!  Lol!  Let’s support each other in moving forward!!  If any of you do direct sales, I will support you too!  Lord knows I don’t have the physical energy anymore in my life to be working two on-site jobs!  I’m thanking God for the energy to work my full time job!  Thirty-One allows me to work largely from my phone!! Lol!

Anyway, life is moving forward in so many good ways!  I hope and pray yours are too!!  And I think I will try to get back to blogging more again and staying in touch with all my fellow warriors!  Love and prayers to you all!

Feet Back Under Me: Climbing Mountains

I don't know about you guys but there were many times going through treatment when I would think about the things I wanted to do again.  I made lists, talked to my parents, talked to myself or just dreamed of the things I wanted to do again.  Just over a week ago I finally got a chance to do one of those things.  I climbed a mountain in my beautiful Blue Ridge mountains!!

I had eyed the trail once before on a randomly less chilly day in March but was told by hikers coming down that the snow up there had become a sheet of ice!  I put it off until just over a week ago!  I really didn't know what to expect as it was a new trail to me.  Online reviews said it was strenuous but beginner.  May I say right now, those two words don't belong together nor is this trail close to beginner once you get past the first half!!

I am not in shape.  While my job keeps me walking I had the conversation with a co-worker about how we don't get an actual work out in very much.  It is a lot of walking, stopping, walking, stopping, standing and observing and explaining.  So I must stress just how out of shape I am.  I was one of those people who did loose weight in chemo but it came back with a vengeance when I was done.   At any rate, I knew I was going to have a difficult time.

My plan was to simply take it one step at a time.  So I took two puffs on my inhaler, shouldered my back pack with power aid and water on my back, and started up.  I am not kidding when I say I didn't make it 1/10th of a mile before stopping and feeling like I was sucking oxygen for my life!  The trail was wide but definitely going UP!  Remember how I said "one step at a time"?  In my mind that was just in case and I was going to fly up this mountain because I was determined and I had survived chemo so there was no way this mountain could conquer me!!  Besides, there were literally dozens of people walking up and down around me.  I tried to hide the fact I was winded at the beginning and sucking air in.  I casually looked around on the first half dozen stops like I was taking in the many trees surrounding me.  Then when I was told I was only a 3rd of the way up after what felt like forever I seriously considered turning around.  I debated it in my head.  Then I took another step forward, then a second and a third and stopped on the fifth.  I kept this up until I had decided that this mountain wasn't going turn me back.  Then I came to the stairs.

This flight of wooden stairs...I couldn't believe it!  They were steeper than the gravel path.  But I figured at least they were wide.  I only stopped a couple times on them.  Surely I had to be close to the top!  Oh no!  This old, craggy mountain simply laughed at me.  The first half was the easy half.  Now I had to earn it.  The incline increased as did the rocks, boulders and trees I had to climb up and over.  My vision was not happy with me as all shades of browns blended together and my ability to tell them apart got worse and worse.  On one of my many, many, many (you get the picture) stops I met a lady who kindly encouraged me to keep going.  That I could make it.  I don't know what pushed me to say this but gulped air, laughed and said that I wasn't going to stop because I had told myself during chemo that I was going to climb a mountain again.  That I was going to do this!  The woman smiled and said she would see me at the top!  I let her (and several more people) pass by before I took another swig of water and pushed on.  Up and over, up and over, taking more puffs on the inhaler and focusing on only one step at a time, one boulder at a time.  Trying to follow a path that was only discernible by the blue stripes painted on trees and rocks or following other hikers as they picked out a way to go.

And then, after what felt like the whole day but was in fact maybe an hour, things flattened out and I literally stumbled the last bit up to the giant rocks that jutted out from the top of the mountain.  The rocks were scattered with people resting and taking in the view.  I saw the lady who had told me she would see me at the top and she came over to me with a big smile and a wave and told me to sit down and rest for a minute and then she would have her daughter take a picture of me on the rocks!  As I sat and guzzled about half my power aid in one go, the lady's daughter scouted a seat for me up on the rocks and saved it until I was ready to climb up to it.  Then, not to get too corny, pictures of victory were taken!

I sat up there for probably close to an hour, looking out over the valley from the rocks and just letting the wind clear my mind and cool me down.  I let it push all the thoughts from my head and just enjoyed a quietness and peacefulness I hadn't felt in a long time.  There is something about the Blue Ridge that is good for my soul.  And sitting on top of it that day seemed to give me an emotional and mental cleansing!  I believe strongly in a Good God and that He uses His creation to help us heal and be at peace.  Looking at that beauty spread out below me and as far as I could see I felt a calm wash over me.

I looked down and saw what I had come up in one glance and I thought of how many times I wanted to turn back.  That I had wanted to turn back after just a few steps.  I was so glad I didn't because it showed me what I had accomplished in so many, many ways.

I have been told for over four years now that the decisions I made with my surgery and chemo were brave and I was a strong person to make them.   I never felt that way.  I felt that it was simply something I had to do.  The decision was practically made for me.  The roller coaster was pulling away and I was strapped down.  I had to ride it.  At least that is how I felt.  Then I looked back at how quickly that hike pulled me down.  How quickly I felt tired and wanted to stop.  How I could literally only look at one foot at a time to move forward, and I realized I could do this mountain because I had already climbed it.  It wasn't a roller coaster I was strapped to with surgery and chemo.  It was a mountain I had to climb.  Then I realized I had been climbing mountains my whole life.  That was how I was able to climb the cancer mountain and that was how I was able to climb this mountain.

When I was born I started climbing.  Being blind as a child was just life to me.  But I learned from day one to climb, to keep moving.  Onwards and upwards was the only way I knew to go.  And I can thank my parents for that.  I never let my vision stand in my way.  It got in the way a lot, but I didn't let it stay there for long.  I made adaptations and just worked with what I had.  I think that is how I first became stubborn and determined that things would just work out, one way or another.  I just had to keep trying.  Even with the giant improvement in my vision from then to now, I still have to keep trying and making those adaptations and not let it get in my way.

When my older brother was first diagnosed with cancer when I was 14 and I watched him go through it and helped take care of my little brothers...that mountain I thought was pretty big.  Then when he was diagnosed a second time.  And finally a third time.  I felt like I was watching him climb Everest and all I could do was stand at base camp and watch.  And then May 10, 2008 he reached the summit.    Even as I write this I can't stop crying.  I don't think anything I have gone through or will go through will equal that emotional mountain I will forever be climbing.

I started back up another mountain back in 2011 and climbed my way to the top of that college mountain, determined that after 15 years I would walk across that stage and finally get my diploma.  As I reached the top, I saw my own Everest waiting for me.  I was diagnosed, as many of my friends know, in 2013...during my last finals week.  But I rolled up to that stage in a wheel chair and with sheer adrenaline, I walked across that stage and got my diploma!  Then I immediately started that climb of surgery and chemo.  There was no summiting Everest for me.  I guess the Good Lord has other plans for now:).

Looking at that climb up the Blue Ridge last week, for me it was putting everything I went through from climbing my Everest into a physical climb over those rocks.  One step at a time.  That is how I made it through the diagnoses, surgery, chemo and recovery.  One step at a time, holding onto the rocks and trees to balance myself.  I actually fell down twice coming back down.  And I am pretty sure I did a little damage to the back of my left ankle.  Each time, there was someone reaching a hand towards me right away to help me up.  And then I made it back down to the bottom. My second fall was on the last stretch of the trail, close to the bottom.  I was worried for a minute that I had hurt my ankle to the point of not safely being able to walk.  Fortunately it wasn't that bad and one last rest was all I needed.  I didn't even take a moment at the bottom of the trail to look back.  I dragged myself to my car and finished off my water.  I sat in my car and repeated to myself, "I did it!  I did it!"  I don't think I was completely talking about that day's hike.  And something tells me I'll be saying that phrase a lot in my life.

This hike was a perfect view for me of how we go through difficulties and how we go through life.  Taking one step at a time and when we fall, reaching out to those around us to help pull us back up and get back on the trail.  I don't know that I will ever stop having to climb mountains but I do know now that no matter how hard, painful and cry worthy the mountain is, all I have to do is reach out for my rocks and reach out for someone's hand.  Those are my parents, my friends, complete strangers and in all of them, my God.


 1st Picture:  The beginning of the hike, wide, gravel path.

2nd Picture: The stairs!

3rd Picture: Rocks on the path with the top in the background.

4th picture: The rocks are getting bigger.  I stopped taking pictures after this point!

5th picture: Me at the top laughing and sitting on the rock!  A splendid view if the valley behind me.

6th picture:Looking between two of the giant rock outcroppings over the valley.

7th picture:  Ok, I celebrated more than a little!  Me with both arms up in the air showing the valley and part of the mountain behind me.

8th Picture:  A panorama of the rocks looking out over the valley.

9th picture:  Obligatory selfie with the edge of the rocks and valley behind me.  Blue sky with some white clouds in all pictures.

10th picture:  Scenic pic of the edge of one of the rocks and the rolling valley with mountains in the distance against a deep, blue sky.  A little filter at work here :)

Feet Back Under Me: Teenage Plans VS Reality.

Tonight, as I sat at my kitchen table and paid bills, I found myself thinking back to my teen years and how I thought about what my life would be like.  I don't remember all the scenarios that went through my head as I had a very, over active imagination!  There may or may not have been a hope to find myself transported into a magical fantasy land that was some combination of Narnia and Middle Earth!  Lol!

It is interesting though to look at what I thought would happen vs reality.

Teenager Plan:  Be an actress.
Reality:  Tried out for a play in college and couldn't stop laughing through the whole tryout!!  I was horrible!!  But I found out in college that I had a talent for working back stage as stage manager!

Teenager Plan:  Be an author.
Reality:  I still love to write and have so many stories I have started but haven't finished.  I feel like this is still a plan that could happen.  One of these days I will get the stories inside of me into books!  And maybe turn one of my blog series into a book too :).  Not giving up on this one teenage me!

Teenager Plan:  Get married young and have a big family.
Reality:  38 years old and not married.  Hurting still from a break up that I knew I had to do for me.  Still in love with that man.  As for a big family, well, adopting and fostering is my hope for the future.  Started to seriously look into both options as of a couple months ago.   Easier to write than to do but a family, and maybe even a big family, I think is still in the cards for me.  As for marriage, I suppose I have a lot of work to do on myself before that can happen :).

Teenager Plan: Be a singer.
Reality:  On occasion I can hit some pretty high and on key notes.  But a Grammy is not in my future!  Lol!

Teenager Plan:  Be a teacher:
Reality:  I was actually a teacher for one year!  I was hired to teach Creative Writing and ended up also teaching religion, spelling, and english.  I was planning to go back into teaching once I finished my undergrad degree in English Literature.  I even had a very promising interview process happening for a position as an English Teacher when I was diagnosed with cancer.  I had to pull myself out of the process (and I believe I had made it to the final round) when I had to go through chemo.

Teenager Plan: Own a house in the country by the time I was 25.
Reality:  38 and finally feeling like I can look for a house comfortably and on my own time schedule instead of just window shopping or desperately trying to find something to live in bigger than a studio apartment (buying would have been cheaper living when I was in Florida).

So many ideas went through my mind as a teenager as to where I would be when I was older.  For some reason the magic age for me was 25.  I felt like I would have my whole life figured out by then!  I would have to say that only in the last four years (since having cancer) have I stopped putting age limits on goals.  It is funny what seems old and established when you are in high school.  Very little turned out how I thought it would.    But that's ok.  So much more happened that was good that I never even imagined as a teenager.  And maybe as a teenager I would have said to my older self "Are you nuts!?"  A sentence I am sure my parents, family and friends stopped themselves from uttering...most of the time :).

So maybe my life didn't turn out as I planned.  Maybe the rest will be different than I think even now. All I know is I want to live it...whatever may come.  Create my adventures, open my life up to God's Will.  Do what I can for others and smile every day, even those times when my heart is hurting.    Because even though my teenage plans may not have come about as I had hoped, a pretty full life of 38 years is behind me to think back on and remember.  My present and future life, for however long God wants me here, is wide open in front of me for all the experiences, laughter, tears and surprises the Good Lord has in store for me!