SEVEN

It’s been well over a year now since I’ve written anything of significance, aside from an Instagram comment or meaningful text here and there. Don’t ask me how. I truly have no idea. I used to find myself here so often. Helpless. Lost. Needing to be here. Needing to write it out and make sense of what didn’t when it was trapped in my head.

Seven years later, I’ve healed quite a bit (with plenty to go and discover) and I find myself with different needs. I’ve healed enough to know with resounding assurance that the Lord had great purpose in what the devil meant for evil and that sometimes the Lord allows hard times to come so we fall at His feet and He can guide us through it with his tender love and mercy for His glory.

This past year was packed full of all kinds of things. Highs, lows, and everything in between, of course, and plenty of wild. Looking back with some distance now, there is a lot of providence there, too… in the unexpected moments, in the travel opportunities that allowed us a few extra deep breaths, in the relationships that have strengthened our faith, the detours that shifted our focus, and the moments of clarity with the revelation of sovereignty.

For the sake of time (and your attention) I’ll summarize a few of the bigger moments.

Hyperbarics (Aug-Oct 2023)
Last August-October my mornings were spent at pressures equivalent to roughly 60ft “below” sea level for about 90 minutes a day, breathing 100% pressurized oxygen for 40 days locked in a clear chamber. Hyperbaric Oxygen Treatment is often used for specialized wound care, diving injuries, and other neurological impairments, and the hope in my case was that the 40 treatments would improve the lack of sensation I have in my right arm from a touch of spinal cord inflammation from radiation treatments. While no relief came there, I did have some pretty significant improvement in neck mobility and scar tissue on my treatment side. My neck feels almost the same on both sides (which honestly I thought would never happen again. IYKYK). Not to mention, I was able to work through a bit of anxiety and acknowledge that going through daily treatment of ANY kind after going through radiation, is not what I would consider fun or easy. Overall counting it as a pretty solid win though.

Side note: I finished hyperbaric therapy almost to the day that I finished radiation therapy in 2017. Pretty wild and totally unplanned. Only God.

Savannah, GA (Nov 2023)
We took a little trip together, because let’s be honest, I needed to unplug big time after 40 days of chamber swimming. So off we went to enjoy a few (rainy) days in Savannah, GA together. We had the sweetest little trip walking around hand-in-hand, eating great food, and seeing all the pretty places around an old historic town, talking about life, about God, about marriage, and all the sweetness of life. Not to mention the road trip. The Powells LOVE a good road trip together.

Almost baby (March 2024)
Yep, you read that right, and I’m not talking about pregnancy or any other “normal” method of welcoming a child into your home. I’m talking, someone out of the blue asking us if we wanted a baby…and if things had worked out as they truly seemed like they were going to, we could have had a baby in our home a month later. Like our baby to keep. To love. To call our own. Talk about a whirlwind….but the whirlwind was juuussstttt getting started.

SUDT (Samford University Dance Team) (April 2024)
For six years, I served as the coach of the dance team at Samford University, a small private Christian university here in Birmingham. I started coaching in the spring of 2018 which was roughly 6 months after I had finished radiation treatment and in a lot of ways, it saved me. Dance has been a part of my life in one way or another since I was 5 years old, and although I had never coached before, the opportunity gave me purpose and something to focus on in the absolute hardest time in my life. In April this year, my audition staff chose an absolutely stellar group of 16 talented girls to be the next team, and I fully intended to coach that team this fall. Just days after auditions ended, various things came to light about the program and the administration, and it became VERY clear that it was time for me to resign, so I did. While we know it was the right decision for us and there is no regret in that decision, it absolutely shattered me to my core to release that program and those girls and let go of what I had put so much of my heart and soul into knowing my legacy would trail behind me in whatever state it becomes. So I spent the summer working to heal my heart knowing this fall would be the first time post-treatment that I wouldn’t have a team to coach, so the impact is far more than what meets the eye, especially from Samford’s perspective. I’m facing FAR more free time than I’m used to, a new search for purpose in this season of life, a place to direct my motherly tendencies, and a lot of mental space that I didn’t know was being zapped by the ups and downs of dance team with a bunch of college girls!

Fraxel (May-Sept 2024)
There was a picture that K.T. took of me smelling a pink rose in a garden in Savannah, and all I can see when I look at it is the crepey skin on my chin from radiation scarring. My chin post-treatment has honestly always been an insecurity of mine, but I think that picture was sort of the tipping point for me. We put aside a little money and did our research, setup a consultation and landed on Fraxel laser treatment as the best option to treat the deep wrinkle situation. So, from April to September, I had 3 different sessions of Fraxel laser treatment to my whole face! Let’s just say I was unprepared for the ouchie of that situation immediately after and the sandpapery texture my skin would have the next week.

Yosemite (May 2024)
I first went to Yosemite as a little girl around the age of 5. Despite my youth, I do have some memories that have hung around with the immensity of the sights being one of them. When K.T. and I started talking about our 2024 trips, that was the first place that came to mind. I wanted to experience it all again 30 years later with a little life behind me and with big-girl eyes. We planned the trip for May with 4 full days to explore all the sights and sounds and hopefully some time of rest after a busy audition weekend. See above for how desperately we NEEDED this trip after the absolute mess that came of SUDT. Bonus, we took our next door neighbors and just had the best time hiking, talking, breathing in nature, watching people risk their lives on El Capitan, and searching for bears (which we found none of). We came home feeling slightly more alive and missing all the activity and excitement that trip brought.

Poison Ivy (May 2024)
I’ve spent my whole life playing outside, doing yard work, prancing through the woods, and rolling in the grass. Out of all of those years, not once have I been allergic to poison ivy. So when my mother says she has a garden bed in their backyard that some poison ivy has found its way through, I volunteered to go over and pull it out and dispose of it. Harmless. I was careful-ish, I wore leggings and washed my hands with dawn dish soap every so often and was careful not to touch my face with my gloveless hands. But what I didn’t consider is that the leaves were likely also touching my forearms and wiping the Alabama summer sweat off my face with my forearms was not a good decision. I woke up the next morning perfectly normal, and called my mom pretty proud that I had survived poison ivy yet again only to be told later that day by someone that it usually takes 24-48hrs for poison ivy to show up. By that night I was covered, and I mean COVERED, in rash on any possible fleshy surface that was exposed that day, despite my careful washing and invincible attitude. I think I scratched day and night for over two weeks. Thankfully it never got all slimy and weepy like some, but Lord have mercy the itching was unbearable at times. There was simply not enough calamine lotion in the world to soothe my little arms and face. Not to mention, my face was red and blistery like it was during radiation. So if you’re keeping up and counting, that’s major trigger #3 for the year. Lord have mercy!

7 years (July 2024)
While sitting on our bed swing out back one afternoon this summer, it finally hit me…Glanda lived inside my neck just as long as she has been in the trash outside of my neck. All the times that I told people that she was in there about 7yrs, it never felt that long (unless someone’s eyes bugged out when I said it). But on this side of things, 7yrs feels like an eternity most days. It has truly taken so much to get here. Before I knew what Glanda was, my days weren’t covered in fear or anxiousness or thoughts of how long I might live or what I better hurry up and do before I die. Ugh. But ever since, it has been an uphill battle of retraining my mind to understand that what was there is gone, and while, yes, my body did create unhealthy cells within, I am healthy now and the risk is generally the same before July 2017 when I was oblivious as it is now. Perspective matters. As hard as it is, it matters tremendously.

Maine (Oct 2024)
We’ve had a pretty calm Fall without all of the practices and games to attend, which meant the Powells could take a whole week in October to visit a state that we’ve been trying to get on the calendar for over two years. Mid-October, we finally got to go leaf-peeping and sunset lighthouse chasing. We flew into Boston and made our way up to Bar Harbor and back to Boston over the next week and had the BEST time seeing the Maine colors of fall for the first time and finding town after town with more character and charm than I was prepared for. I actually asked K.T. a few times to leave me in Bar Harbor for a little while and come back for me once the snow piles up and I miss Alabama because I cant get warm. But clearly, he did not comply. We are both back home and changed, once again, for the better.

Thirty- Six (Oct 2024)
Glanda came out when I was 28, and I remember so many days and so many conversations between K.T. and me in those first few years about 35 and how I wasn’t sure I would make it here. Future plans were muddled with thoughts and feelings of “yeah, if I’m still alive.” I just couldn’t understand that I might actually live to see 35, and I’m not really even sure where that came from. My prognosis was fine from the get go so I had every reason to believe that I could and would see 35 and well beyond. I never pictured myself dying, but my vision just kind of went black when I thought about what late 30s or 40s or even 50s might be like. I think cancer is just scary. Feels crazy to think back on those times now that I’m 36, healthy as can be, but it also makes me really sad to think about the state I was in during those times.

So, how do you process life you never thought you’d see? Celebrate? Jump for joy? Fall to your knees? Reflect? Cry? Yep, that one! I cried. Like a baby. It was just a lot to process, ok? I get my once every 6 months meltdown!!

Now I’ve lived a whole week or so of 36. I sort of feel like I’m starting fresh. I’m starting over with days and weeks I’ve never dreamed of before. I’m feeling a slight warmth from the light onto life that feels oddly unattached to the cancer survivor, Coach Val life that was. And i’m moving into a new chapter, rich with wisdom and perspective. I’m moving into a phase of life where I don’t worry (as much) about Glanda and the ripples that that skipping little pebble caused. I don’t constantly connect day-to-day things with the days I felt like I was living day-to-day just trying to get through the mess each day brought with it. I’m able to breathe a little deeper and admire the beauty around me a little more intently. And i’m starting to worry less and less about who likes me, who cares, or the next person I need to please. And that part of 36 kind of feels good. But I need some grace here as my eyes continue to adjust from darkness and things come into focus again. I’m alive. I’m healthy. I’m doing well. And I am worthy of the good things God has in store for me. Thank you Jesus for healing and redemption!

So, it’s been quite a year! A lot has happened and a lot hasn’t. We are still filled with hope and thankfulness that the Lord has carried us through such a journey these last 7 years. We’re still traveling and taking in the beauty of God’s creation one continental state at a time. We are not blind to the fact that we have seen Yosemite AND Maine in the same 6-month period. And we are absolutely enjoying sweetness and slowness of how the Lord is revealing his handiwork to us. (I cant believe I just said I was enjoying the slowness)

We know and believe that God never makes mistakes, as hard as that feels to swallow sometimes. And while this recent year/season still brought plenty of heartache, although a different kind than you’re used to hearing about from me here, we are starting to settle into the space and time where we FEEL the blessing of it all and not just repeatedly tell ourselves about the blessing and trust it will come. Blind faith is hard. Let me rephrase, FAITH is hard sometimes because it’s almost always blind, but what a good God He is. Always. And y’all know, I’ve had my days, weeks, and months where me and the Lord had WORDS over all of this. But don’t miss His goodness there that despite my stubborn, angry frustration through the suffering and horridness of it all, He still provided, protected, and promises the same gentle love and unconditional pursuit for my heart. Ugh.

So, welcome to what I’m going to refer to as a slightly new phase of Glanda. The one we never saw coming (literally). The one that’s fresh and new and exciting. And the one where, for the first time, I feel kind of good about where I’m at. I’m sure I’ll come up with a dumb name for this soon enough, but until then, friends….

Onward and upward.

(and because I love pictures…here are a few more unrelated to the above that I love from the last year)