Rules to Live By

We all know we are going to die. Shakespeare said, that we are dying from the moment we take are first breath, and yet it is the one topic that few people feel comfortable talking about.
When someone you know is diagnosed with cancer, the first thing that enters the mind is "Am I going to die?"
Death is not meant to be a frighting thing, it's just moving from one realm into another. But it is the thought of leaving our loved ones behind that bothers us the most. Guilt is another thing that seems to weigh heavily on our minds when one considers death, "have I been a good parent, a good person? etc;" When I was diagnosed with cancer I made a list of rules to live my life by so that I would never have any regrets. Here are the following rules, maybe, just maybe they will inspire and help someone you know going through difficult times.

Rules to Live By

1) If you're afraid to fight, then you'll never win.
2) In times of tragedy and turmoil you'll learn who your true friends are. Treasure them for they are         few and far between.
3) Know your enemies and never become your own worst one.
4) Be grateful for those enemies. They will keep you honest and ever striving to better yourself.
5) Listen to all good advice, but never substitute someone else's judgement for your own.
6) All men and all women lie. But never lie to yourself.
7) Many will flatter you. Befriend the ones who don't, for they will remind you that you are human and infallible.
8) Never fear the truth, It's the lies that will destroy you.
9) Your worst decisions will always be those made out of fear. Think all matters through with a clear      head.
10) Your mistakes won't define you, but your memories good and bad, will.
11) Be grateful for your mistakes as they will tell you who you and what you're not.  
12) Don't be afraid to examine the past, it's how you learn what you don't want to do again.
13) There's a lot to be said for not knowing better.
14) All men die. Not everyone dies.
15) On your death bed, your greatest regrets will be what you didn't do.
16) Don't be afraid to love. Yes, it's a weakness that can be used against you, but it is also a source of       the greatest strength you will ever know.
17) The past is history written in stone that can't be altered. the future is transitory and never                     guaranteed. Today is the only day you can change for certain. Have the courage to do so and               make the most of it because it could be all you'll ever have.
18) You could be in a crowd, surrounded by people and still be lonely.
19) Love all, regardless of what they do. Trust only those you have to. Harm none until they harm you.
20) Never be afraid to kill or destroy your enemies. They won't hesitate to kill or destroy you.

Choose to Be or Choose Not to Be!

Why do we as human's feel that we must weigh in on other people's choice to live or die?

I'm not talking about abortion here, I'm talking about death with dignity. So here is my question, if you knew you had a terminal disease and that you were going to leave this world in a painful and degrading manner would you choose to end your life early?
Brittney Maynard made world wide news when she advocated to end her life with dignity. Many people were upset over Brittney's personal choice to end her life, while others supported and encouraged her.
This is clearly a decision that took a lot of thought and soul searching for Brittney, to end her life early, knowing what she would be facing with terminal cancer. I personally could never choose to end my life early, but that is just me. I don't feel that this is a choice to be made lightly nor is it a decision that other's should weigh in on. Maybe Brittney said it best in a letter she left behind before she ended her life, "It is people who pause to appreciate life and give thanks who are happiest. If we change our thoughts, we change our world! Love and peace to you all."

Turning Back the Clock

Have you ever wished you could have a do-over?

I have a friend that was diagnosed with breast cancer a month after I was. The type of cancer she had was estrogen progesterone. Deb’s tumor was so large that she was advised to undergo radiation first in order to shrink the tumor. She then had chemo and a radical mastectomy followed by reconstruction. It has been an uphill battle for her, but she has maintained her positive attitude. Deb’s doctor’s recommended that she have a hysterectomy after her treatments because of the type of cancer that she had. Deb’s husband disagreed and felt that they needed to pay off the medial bills that they already had before acquiring more debt.

Deb got a phone call a few weeks ago from her doctor. The cancer is back. It is now in five different areas of her bones. She is frustrated and angry. She underwent a hysterectomy a few days ago, but she wishes she would have done it sooner. While this is impossible to do, I know that we all have things in our past that we could do over again. Some of these things are still possible. If I could have a do over, I would have not been a sun worshipper. I would not have gone to the tanning salons and fried my skin. Even though I knew there was always a chance of getting skin cancer, the idea of actually getting cancer didn’t seem real. Now as I go about my daily skin care routine, I find myself taking extra care with sun screen and making sure my children know the dangers of skin cancer, as well as giving themselves a routine physical for lumps, moles and anything out of the ordinary. I know this might sound like a strange thing to some of you, and even though it is only a small thing I wish I could go back and change, I have to remember that what we do today will always impact our lives tomorrow

Knowing or Not Knowing?

A friend of mine passed away from lung cancer four months before I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember my sister posing a question to me a year before I was diagnosed that struck me as rather odd. The question she asked was if I had a choice, would I want to know if I was going to die or not know if I was given a choice.
Now, remember, neither of us knew at that time that I had breast cancer. We were focused instead on her mother-in-law who was told she had less than a year to live.
As I think about that question, I can honestly say I don't remember what answer I gave. I do know that as I have watched loved ones pass from this life, I have had very mixed feelings on the subject. On one hand, knowing that you have limited time on this earth allows you to make up for wrongs that you have made. It allows you to say goodbye and make peace with yourself. On the other hand, when you know that your time is limited,  you loose hope and become depressed. I saw this happen often and so I can say with all honesty, I think it is best sometimes not knowing when your time is up. As long as you have hope, you can keep moving forward with a positive attitude.

Everyone has scars

Everyone has scars. Some scars can easily be seen, while other scars are so deepthat the human mind erects a shield to protect the damaged spirit from the trauma it hasendured. Perhaps it’s because both visual and unseen scars come from different forms oftrauma that makes us retain the memories of how we acquired them. I see scars notmerely as damaged skin and tissue marring the body and soul, but as a detailed mapoutlining actual events of my past leaving a detailed history of my life.Each scar that marks my flesh holds a story all of its own. Some of my scars areso small and insignificant that no one would notice them, yet it is these scars that haveleft me with vivid memories of my childhood. Without them, I would have easilyforgotten the precious if not painful memories that have shaped me into the woman I amtoday.

If I start with the beaded line tracking its way across my lower right abdomen, Ican hear (in my then eight year old drug induced state as I awoke from anesthetic) theconcern in my father’s voice. I’d just had an appendectomy, and he was worried that mylips were dry. He’d asked the nurse if they could get some Vaseline for my lips. Asstrange as that may sound, I remember the concern my father had for me every time I seethat scar. Perhaps I remember it so well because it is one of the few times I can recall mydad being worried about me.The smallest scar I have is on my left wrist. I received it from a burn when I wasten years old. I got that scar on my aunt’s wood burning stove when I stayed the night tobabysit for her. To this day, whenever I breathe in the brisk autumn air and smell smokecoming from a chimney, I think about my aunt’s large wood burning stove.Two lower lines, now nearly faded and running parallel to one another is from anemergency C-section performed for the birth of my first child. The second was for mythird child. (I won’t bore you with all the details concerning stretch marks and thesagging areas between my girls and down to my southern parts. Suffice it to say, God hasa strange sense of humor that one day He and I are going to have a long chat about!)I’m pretty sure the scars from having my gallbladder removed have taken on thelook of Orion, while the Big Dipper, adequately describes the scars I have from myhysterectomy. Now if I ever get really bored I could draw a perfectly straight line fromthe tip of the Big Dipper up to my left arm pit. This particular scar doesn’t look anythinglike the North Star, but it does show a gnarly scar where five lymph nodes were removedfrom my arm pit due to breast cancer.My girls, (Thelma & Louise) have also had multiple surgeries. While Thelma,(my left breast) looks like a Barbie doll on steroids, (thanks in part to radiation and apermanent implant,) she looks like she is happily winking over at Louise’s saggingimplanted breast. Both of my girls have scars running along the top of them where myheadlights were permanently removed. (Yes, my Ta-ta’s somewhat resemble LightningMcQueen’s flashing headlights from the Disney movie, “Cars.” In other words, myheadlights aren’t real . . . Cha-Ching.) I guess whenever I get around to having the

finished product completed; I’ll need to be careful not to poke somebody’s eyes out. Fornow, my breasts are silently winking at people, and nobody is the wiser.I have a pretty good sense of humor concerning most of my scars, and yet thescars I’ve received from breast cancer are very personal on many levels. While I can finda lot of humor in them, sometimes these same scars can be physically, emotionally andmentally painful. They are not so much a reminder of what I have physically lost, butwhat I could have lost. I can visually see my oldest son, thirteen at the time, curling intohimself. His arms wrapped around his middle, silent tears running down his face as Ibroke the news to him that I had breast cancer. When I look at the scars from myhysterectomy, I can hear the fear in my eleven year old sons’ voice, asking me if I have tohave another surgery because he’s afraid the cancer is back. I think the internal scarring on my emotions and soul has come from what myfamily went through as they watched me go through breast cancer. That has been thehardest thing to heal from. I guess like any scar tissue damage or internal and emotionalscaring, there will always be some type of mark left on the soul that marks the passage oftime and trauma. I just pray my spirit is strong enough to always survive whatever lifethrows at me. I am willing to take the bad as long as the good comes with it, so when Ilook at the scar marks from childbirth and my C-sections, and start to feel ugly, I remindmyself of the three beautiful miracles of life God gave me, and I no longer see them asmarring my body, but as badges of motherhood.In short, the scars that line my body are vast in number and size. I could probablymap all the constellations in the sky and still manage to give a dang good horoscopereading from just the scars on my chest and abdomen alone. Although I have many scars,I do not see them as battle wounds, ugly marks, or mangled deformities. To me, my scarsare simply a part of who I am. They do not define me, and though they may show theworld what I have endured on the outside, they are not a reflection of what I have lost orwho I am on the inside. Instead, I choose to see them as a reflection of blessings,miracles, love, and the gift of life God has granted and blessed me with.

Missing You

“Remember when you tinted your hair that God awful red?” I laugh. “I think it took me three hours to get it back to your original shade of color.”

                She says nothing, but then I don’t expect her to as I twist another piece of hair around the curling iron. “I promised, you are going to look perfect today,” I continue in a soft voice, and with a keen eye I inspect her from head to toe. The chic cut I’ve given her accentuates the angle of her chin. A half smile plays about her rosy lips. It is only then that I notice three small hairs lining her upper lip.

Perfect. She has to be perfect!

Putting the curling iron down, I reach for my tweezers. Plucking the offensive intrusions I find two more. My fingers slide over the waxy surface of skin and I efficiently remove imperfections before resuming styling her hair.  “Absolute Perfection,” I say as I coax another stray curl to do my bidding. It is only when her hair passes my professional inspection that I meticulously dab a small amount of concealer over the scar upon her crown before brushing soft wisps of curls over her brow. The pearl shimmer nail polish applied with painstaking precision complements the baby pink roses in her hands.  A kerchief is draped in front of the flowers hiding her clenched fists, but the makeup is flawless, the hair color stunning, the dress exquisite.

Altering pleats so they rest smoothly against her body, I check for any flawlessness, then check again to be certain I haven’t missed something. Heartache clenches inside my chest as I meticulously arrange her dress.

Hands shaking, it is only then that I allow myself to breath in the perfection that rests before me. Tears slip down my face, and I quickly step back so I don’t mar the beauty of her creation.

She is ready.

She looks peaceful. Beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

My talents as a makeup artist and stylist have allowed me to give her this last earthly gift of perfection in death if not in life. It is strange, but not disturbing that I can feel her spirit next to me. I also sense she is satisfied with my ministrations. Perhaps that is because when her family comes to see her in a few hours they will not see her mangled scar body tarnished by life’s mishaps and difficulties, for they will see perfection.