EIGHT

During my two week post-surgery recovery period, I built this website. I told the story as it was unfolding because I was at a total loss and didn’t know what else to do. I had skipped into surgery on Thursday absolutely stoked to get this thing cut out and be done with it, and I woke up in W738 with Dr. Carroll at my bedside telling me that part of my tumor was malignant. So, I turned to live journaling to explain what was going on throughout recovery and treatment in hopes that sharing the details with y’all might help me understand and make sense of it too.

I’ve returned here many times to read my own story again, looking for perspective and words that might comfort someone that’s reached out asking for guidance through their journey or to simply find the most appropriate posts to share with a new friend that wants to know more about Glanda. Reading your own words that you don’t fully remember writing is a wild experience, but each and every time it has been insightful, nurturing, healing, and providential for me over these last 8 years, and I’m thankful. Many times, I’ve read with silent tears on my cheeks. Other times, I’ve wanted to hide knowing how broken and helpless I felt and the effect that that had on those around me. And sometimes reading my words makes me really dang proud of myself and a spark ignites again.

Looking back at year 8, I’m allowing myself to acknowledge and admire my strength. The strength I built to get up every day and face what was ahead with hope and resilience. The capacity I expanded within to mentally and emotionally sit with the scary and sit with it long enough to acknowledge how it was affecting every single aspect of my life. And the grace I poured over myself so that I might crawl out of the tunnel with new perspective and an appreciation for the blessings woven throughout. And let me be clear…none of this was easy, comfortable, or laid out before me.

I thank God every day that my journey with Glanda taught me how to value life and find purpose in the things that feel a lot more like punishment, so when the tide rushes in again in life, I’m equipped with the strength and perspective to move forward peacefully, knowing it will someday be for my good and the kingdom of heaven.

Cancer is a beast. I don’t think there’s anyone trying to cover that up. I’m certainly not, but I’m also at a point where I’m ok. Ok with what happened and where we are now. I’ve realized more and more lately that I’ve reached a stage of this journey where I no longer have anything wise or impactful to say, and while I don’t take that for granted, it also feels really weird knowing a place I came for refuge and strength is a place I feel like I’m outgrowing. I definitely still feel the impact of surgery and radiation on my body in my day-to-day, and the annual PET scan and MRI are still a little nervy, but I’m truly in a place I never thought I’d make it to so I hope seeing me here at least gives you hope. There were times early on where I searched high and low for people with a similar diagnosis to mine that were years out and doing well. It was those people that I kept top of mind when I got discouraged and those people that kept me hanging on and dreaming of these days right here. Thank you, Jesus!

I do want to share a particular milestone and some of the pictures to go with it! K.T. and I celebrated 10yrs of marriage of March 28, 2025 with a bridal photoshoot, a staycation, and a big family and friends evening to celebrate…all a surprise and planned by my darling. Back when Glanda was removed, this was a milestone we weren’t sure we’d see, so this weekend was filled so so much sweetness. Cheers to a decade of love and living out our vows!

Onward and upward