Opportunity of Opposition

I Can Get Through My Tough Times #BecauseHeLives

by Christie Perkins

photo (720x960)We are meant to face hard things.  There must be opposition in all things so that we can understand the beauty of the good.

And there is so much good in this life.

When a simple phrase like “we’re just making memories” won’t do, there’s still a rescue that’s awaiting you.  Only the Savior can bear these burdens.

There have been times that I have tried to carry my own burdens but to no avail.  But, it wasn’t until I got down on my knees and poured out my heart concerning my troubles that He rescued me. Continue reading

Chemo Hair Gets a Compliment

Share Your Thoughts: Quit Keeping it a Secret

by Christie Perkins

baby blessing, etc 138“I love ‘urs’ hair Mommy.  It’s cute,”  my three year old said as he ran his fingers through my 1/2 inch stub of hair.

His timing could not have been more perfect.  I was laying in bed after a radiation treatment chalking up everything that I’ve lost control over since I started this cancer journey: money, my 1st graders empty reading calendar, my 3 1/2 year old who was still enjoying his soggy diapers, and selling and building a new house.  I was stressing about the day I go wigless in my new ward, and frustrated about my personal power cord fiasco from the chemo treatments…

All these thoughts were buzzing around in my head and bugging me. Continue reading

The Cancer Whisperer

Family History Helped Me Find My Lump

by Christie Perkins

004You know that telephone game?  The one where you whisper in someone’s ear and by the end it gets all messed up.

Yeah, well… that happened to me.

Although it wasn’t a mixed up message but some fabulous tumor instead.  It was passed from generation to generation, until it got to me all mixed up and messed up.  Some static message ended up clunking out 2 types of cancer and 7 tumors (thankfully, only five were malignant).

Oh, the cancer whisperer messed that one up. Continue reading

Understanding the Purpose of Death

In Love and Death

by Christie Perkins

December 2014 011I pass my Grandma’s house one last time.

A brief vision of days past flash through my mind.  A wave of emotion overcomes me.  I remember Grandma standing at the edge of her yard in her curled hair and up curled lips.  Grandpa in his navy blue pocketed shirt is waving with those knobby knuckles.  I watch out the back window of the van as we turn the corner.  Until next time.

It is just a vision, for Grandpa’s been gone for years.  Grandma’s only been gone a few days.

I fight the stinging of hot tears brimming in my eyes as I realize that today will be the last time I visit Grandma.  No more aqua rainforest soap, aloe vera plants for bee stings, or Tang coupled with amazing breakfast eggs edged with that secret ingredient.  (Seriously!  How could she not like her own eggs?)

All is gone.  But not forgotten.

I touch the corner of each eye to drain the tear and I take a breath.

“Bye Grandma, love ya.”  My thoughts cradle my memories.  Good byes are never easy but today I say my final good bye.

I believe the wave of emotion I feel is from Grandma whispering back one last good bye. The emotion I feel is not in the doom of her death but in the power of her love.  Until next time… as for now Grandma and Grandpa will stand at the edge of heaven and earth and watch over us until we see each other again.

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Share the Gift

Gifts that Lift

By Christie Perkins

A message of hopeToday I’m joining the #ShareTheGift movement through the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints website.  I want to share a message about how I know that through the gift of Jesus Christ one of my most difficult moments were made light.  I want to bear my testimony of the atonement and it’s great power.

In Alma 7:12 it reads “…and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” 

I felt as if I was carried in His hands through my cancer trial.  I could not have done it without the Savior taking upon Him my infirmities.

His is the gift that lifts.

 

My Most Difficult Day

Early one morning, just before sunrise I sat at the kitchen table, eating oatmeal that I couldn’t taste.  I didn’t feel well.  Big warm tears dropped from my cheeks.  It splashed on the table below me.

I couldn’t do this anymore.  I had only done 4 of the 8 chemo treatments (which I refer to lovingly as 5 hours of nuclear waste dumping) but each one was progressively worse.  And each treatment had a new complication I had to muddle through.

I was tired of feeling sick.  Nights were restless and my anxiety was escalated so that I couldn’t even crawl into bed for a good rest.  My legs were antsy.  I buzzed around, wearing circles in my carpet, which alleviated my anxiety but complicated my need for rest.

My chemo fog was extreme.  I couldn’t read or concentrate. I existed in a muffled brain state.  It’s as if someone had shoved a blanket in my head cutting off all circulation, numbing my brain and it’s functions.

I was ugly, bald, and cold.   My eyelashes and eyebrows were dropping.  And I felt like I was dropping out of everyone’s life… circumstances made it so.

My fast track moment in life began with diagnosis, total mastectomy, painful reconstruction, and now chemo.  My body had taken all it could.  Mentally, physically, and emotionally I was exhausted.

I couldn’t fight any more.

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Surviving Breast Cancer

Giving Thanks for Trials

by Christie Perkins

Kicking cancer with chemo...and an amazing support system.

Kicking cancer with chemo…and an amazing support system.

One year ago today I finished my last round of chemo.  I don’t miss it at all.

Hibernating taste buds, fiery hands and feet, stolen feminine identity card, constant flu-like symptoms, and commando hairstyle hardly merits any type of thank you card but the perspective I gained from cancer does.

In May of 2013 I was diagnosed with invasive ductile breast cancer with lobular features.  In a nutshell, I had two types of cancer where surgery left me with a cancer finger and a fear of return.  My lymph nodes also joined the cancer party.  Every party has a pooper, right?  Chemo and radiation were my attack dogs.  I was a 34 year old mother with four boys ranging from the ages of 2-11.

Continue reading