Thankfulness | Wag'n Tales

Today is a day that I need to say a few words to some people that mean the world to me. I’m not going to mention any names, because those of you out there know who you are…and truly, most anyone reading this has played a role in all of this, and I owe you all a debt of gratitude.

Even on the cloudy days…you know the sunshine is still there.

First of all, I thank the Lord above for all of the blessings I’ve been given. And those have been too numerous to count. Friends, family, opportunities…seriously, I lead a pretty amazing life. I have some amazing kids. I some times shake my head at the wonder of it all.

Now, don’t get me wrong. It hasn’t been all wine and roses. My life has not always been a golden path of gifts and a fountain of well-wishes. No…that’s not quite it at all. But the fact is, that your past makes you who you are, not what you have to be. The same goes for your experiences now.

The same is true for friends and family. You can grow together and grow apart. You can meet someone tomorrow that can become as close to you as anyone you have ever met. And you can wonder how you ever lived without them. Or you can rediscover someone you have always known, and remember why it is that you enjoy their company.

The beauty of it all is that it takes all types, all kinds to make it all work. And I have all types, all kinds, involved in my life. I have old friends, and new friends, and old new friends, and new old friends. I have friends that I have never met in person, and yet would do just about anything for…and I have friends that have never read anything I have wrote on a computer, and I would still do anything for them.

But the same is true for them all: you mean the world to me. I cannot stress enough how important you are to my day. You help me make sense of it all. I have this place where I can get it all out of my head. Let the words flow out, release, and be accepted…just as I am. Here’s a little secret: You may find this hard to believe, but I struggle with acceptance – a lot. I always feel as if I never have a place. I’ve always felt as if I’m never quite enough. And yet here – well, here…I am. And it’s mostly because of you.

Thank you.

Even on the cloudy days, the sunshine is still there.

Today’s post is mostly wordless by me…following you will find another survivor’s story, this one by Heather Von St. James. We are all given so much, and sometimes we don’t realize the “village” we have, until we need it.

And please, don’t forget to click on the blue angel in the right-hand corner! We need more angels and more gift suggestions! Let’s make this a season of giving!

The Strength of My Village

When a mother announces her pregnancy, a village surrounds her. Family, friends, co-workers and even strangers offer support and advice. This happened to me in 2005. On August 5, my husband and I welcomed our daughter Lilly into our family. Our village surrounded us in the hospital with well wishes as they met our daughter. In the months and years to come, I would realize how much I needed their support.

As the partial owner of three successful salons, I supervised 20 employees at one location and worked behind the chair until the day Lily was born. After a few weeks at home with my baby, I regretfully returned to work. Unenthusiastically, I accepted a location switch and a lighter workload. I really only wanted to be home with my child!

Motherhood brings health changes such as weight fluctuation, lack of energy and tiredness, but I soon began to experience severe symptoms. After losing an average of six pounds a week, I consulted my doctor. Blood work and a chest x-ray revealed fluid build-up around my left lung. The doctor prescribed more tests. On November 21, 2005, my medical team discovered the source of my unusual symptoms. In the lining of my lung, I had cancer called malignant pleural mesothelioma. Caused by asbestos exposure I had experienced as a child, the diagnosis came just three and a half months after precious Lily was born.

The doctors gave me 15 months to live, and my thoughts flew to my husband and child. I wanted to do whatever it took to save my life. My husband and I decided to pursue drastic treatment. On February 2, I underwent extrapleural pneumonectomy in Boston. Specialists removed cancer-laden organs and tissue and administered heated chemo to remove all the cancer. I spent 18 days in the hospital recovering from surgery. Two months of additional recovery prepared my body for chemotherapy then radiation. I survived the horrid medical treatments with help of my village.

My parents took Lily to live with them in South Dakota where my childhood friends and people from my church surrounded my parents who both worked full-time. They babysat Lily and made meals. Halfway across the country, my baby learned to roll over and eat solid food. So we could watch her grow, my mom emailed pictures of Lily that my husband printed out. In black and white, I watched my little girl grow and change. I fought for my life because of my daughter.

Five years later, I rejoice that I can stay home to care for my child. As we embrace life, Lily has learned to give to others in need. She befriends everyone she meets and really thrives because of the family, friends, and strangers who surround us. Because of the cancer diagnosis, I remain thankful for my many blessings. With the bad comes good, and my family appreciates every moment thanks to our village who so generously supported us then and continues to support us now.

Mesothelioma: www.mesothelioma.com
Diagnosis: http://www.mesothelioma.com/mesothelioma/diagnosis/
Heather Von St. James: http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/authors/heather/