Nothing can prepare a woman for the physical (and emotional) wounds sustained after surgical battle with breast cancer. No matter how many pre-op photos are reviewed, pages of literature read, or first-person stories heard, it's simply impossible to be ready for what's about to come.
And, when leaving the hospital with a dopey brain and mummy-wrapped chest, it is still possible to delude yourself a little while longer into believing that it's "probably not that bad." But then the time comes -- the Big Reveal. The gauze is slowly unwrapped and as the last strand falls aside all you can do is stare. Your mind is empty and numb as you slowly begin to comprehend that the bloody mess reflecting back is your chest. No cut, scrape, break or bruise you ever sustained in life changed you like this one. Part of your identity as a woman has been ripped away. You are horror stricken at the viciousness of both the physical and emotional attack on your body. You weep. If you are lucky, someone is standing there with you who lovingly whispers, "It's going to be o.k."
Friday, October 6, 2017
Monday, December 26, 2016
First Not
Unfinished sentences splashed all across this blog post last night as I tried to express my thoughts on this first Christmas without my mom and my brother, John.
I vacillated between joy and the depths of despair.
I found comfort in the gift of a friend.
I had a melt down as family parted ways...
Then a text from my sister came and clarified everything. And it was simply this:
"We made it through today."
Yes, indeed, we made through today.
Praise be to God for the gift of His Son.
I vacillated between joy and the depths of despair.
I found comfort in the gift of a friend.
I had a melt down as family parted ways...
Then a text from my sister came and clarified everything. And it was simply this:
"We made it through today."
Yes, indeed, we made through today.
Praise be to God for the gift of His Son.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Litany of Love
My biggest fan. My greatest advocate. My best friend.You, Mom.
You anchored me, especially these last several years.
I now feel adrift.
We told each other things no one else ever heard.
Big things and little things - the whatever-things that filled our hearts and heads. Things that brought neither judgement nor reproach, though frequently laughter and tears.
Together, we consoled one another in a way that allowed us to "carry on" as we faced the most sorrowful and challenging moments our lives.
You, who gave me life
You, who first showed me the love of our Lord
You, who taught me to be strong, compassionate, fearless, and the importance of stick-to-it-iveness
My heart aches. It is pierced. Again. Again. Again. Again.
But I hear you and I will heed what you are telling me: "Carry on."
With the strong echoes of your love reverberating all around me, I step forward.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Dazzled by Michelangelo's David and Everything Else in Florence
Of course, that is any understatement. It is hard to comprehend how Michelangelo created such an amazing statue. It is a masterpiece beyond beautiful, beyond description, really. Check out Accademia Gallery: http://www.accademia.org/explore-museum/artworks/michelangelos-david/
Similarly, it was a mind-blowing moment when we turned the corner and beheld the massive and breathtaking Duomo of Firenze (Florence), or more correctly Santa Maria del Fiore, the cathedral of Florence. My photos are almost useless for conveying the scale and "awesomeness" of this structure. I'd include a photo, but it simply would not do it justice.
Also saw Donatello's wooden sculpture of Mary Magdalene. The sorrow of Jesus' death and perhaps the magnitude of understanding his love of her and forgiveness of her sins, all seem to be captured in her face and posture.
No Planes, but Definitely Trains!
Yesterday wrapped up with wine at the hotel's little patio/garden then off to dinner at La Botte. I started with an app of mortadella and some fresh greens. My main course was grilled scampi - all delicious and beautifully plated. For dessert, I split Tiramisu with dinner mates Liz and Gerry, chasing my share with a decadent cappuccino. However, even that was not enough as afterward we went just around the corner for the requisite gelato - I had two scoops: pistachio and cream! 🐷 Oy, I was so stuffed I skipped this morning's breakfast!
As I type this, we are buzzing through the Italian countryside on the high speed train to Florence. So excited to see what today's adventure brings!
Friends, Romans and Countrymen
June 13
Today's sights included the Palantine Steps, the Forum and Colosseum.
We saw where Caesar gave the thumbs up or down and where he was cremated after assassination. The remains of the Temple of the Vestal Virgins included three towering columns. Next to that was the house of the Vestal Virgins. Beneath our feet were large and small cobblestones in place for more than 2,000 years old - can't imagine how many feet have stepped on them. Very humbling.Monday, June 13, 2016
When in Rome...
Arrived in Rome yesterday (6/12).
Amazing and hard to believe! I am posting only a couple photos right now and will add more later. The pix are 1) at Trevi Fountain with. Fr. Bob and Fr. Stephen, and 2) My first authentic Italian gelato!
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Amiss, Remiss, Dismiss
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Today is the 6th tormentiversary of Ron's death. Hard to believe he's been gone that long from me, from family, from all who loved him. I am not sure of the weather that day, I think it was overcast with clouds leaking intermittent precipitation. What I am sure of is how hard I tried to redefine time so that I could hold on to him just a little longer. I wanted seconds to become like hours so that hours could become days.Over the five days he spent in the hospital, when the hope of recovery was still alive, I sang to him (I like to think with him). RJ loved Bob Marley, especially "Is This Love." I'd pull up that song on my iPod, place an ear bud in each of our ears, and sing. The lyrics include the lines, "We'll be together with a roof right over our heads; We'll share the shelter of my single bed." Those lyrics made me smile then and now. When Ron and I first met -- first fell in love -- we lived in my Grandview apartment and shared my single bed, literally a twin-sized bed, which was not a a lot of space when one of two people was 6' 3" in height! Before this calamity enveloped us, I used to tell him that he was my sunshine, my ray of light that made everything better when all else sucked. When we had to let go of hope, I sang to him in the operating room while they removed his life support and as his heart slowly stopped beating. The last song I quietly sang was "You are My Sunshine."
S.O.B.
My poison today was living as if nothing was amiss. Why? Because I was remiss -- I did not stop my day to note the hour six years ago when RJ slipped away from me. But, I am trying to grant myself grace and dismiss the guilt that assails me.
How I miss... him.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Clark E. Biddle
I don't know that I have the words to describe Clark Biddle. I can tell you that we've lost a bright light, a gentle soul, a funny man, a world-observer, a sage, a loving man, and a dear neighbor -- Sedona's buddy. My heart is heavy knowing he is no longer on this earth, but how blessed I am to have had Clark in my life.
http://bit.ly/1FYiTq0
WWII veteran gives his life to save wife
By
Betty Biddle walked through her house yesterday holding a picture of her husband, Clark.
Now and then, she kissed it.
“I don’t know if I’m going to make it without him,” she said.
No one who knew 88-year-old Clark Biddle well would be surprised to know that his final act, last Thursday, was to push his wife of 68 years out of the way of a car.
She was bruised. He died.
“Sometimes I wish I went with him,” said Mrs. Biddle, also 88, sitting in the living room of her house in Norwich Township.
“I really do.”
The couple’s son, Gary, said Mr. Biddle had been Mrs. Biddle’s primary caregiver since she fell and broke a hip two years ago. He undoubtedly acted out of instinct when he pushed her to safety before the car, backing out of a shopping center parking space, could hit her.
“It would just be natural for him,” said Gary Biddle, who lives in Hong Kong.
The Biddles’ relationship reflects a classic American story: sweethearts at West High School, Class of 1944, who put marriage on hold so he could serve in the Army during World War II.
After the war, he obtained a degree from Ohio State University and opened Biddle’s Drive-In Restaurant, a business on W. Broad Street that he ran for 25 years.
They had two children: Gary and his sister, Sally Cress, of Upper Arlington.
In the 1970s, the family moved from Lincoln Village to the larger place near Hilliard. He loved riding his mower and sharing the bounty of his vegetable garden.
“Just a very loving man in general, to his wife and to his kids and to the neighbors,” said Laura Jones, who has lived next door to the Biddles since 1999.
After Jones’ husband died six years ago, Mr. Biddle let her dog out every day when she was at work, she said. He always left two cookies and a short note for her.
Mr. Biddle had many interests: He played saxophone and clarinet in dance bands, enjoyed fishing and was an active member of the Aladdin Shrine.
“He was also a pilot,” his son said. “We had a small plane when I was a boy. He thrilled my Cub Scout mates with rides once.”
Going to the grocery store with Mr. Biddle, son-in-law Dan Cress said, was never a short trip.
“Everybody in the place would know this guy. It was just amazing how he connected with people.”
He loved to talk about his deep Columbus roots. Mr. Biddle was a descendant of Thomas Biddle, who arrived in Columbus in 1830 from Wales, established a farm on what now is the north end of Downtown and opened a lumber mill that supplied wood for the construction of the Ohio Statehouse.
The Biddles maintained a monthly ritual of getting together for lunch with old classmates from West High.
That’s where they were headed about 1:30 p.m. last Thursday when the accident happened.
Mr. Biddle had helped his wife, who uses a walker, from their car and was holding her by an arm as they crossed the parking lot of O’Charley’s restaurant in the Georgesville Square Shopping Center, she said.
When he saw the backing car, he pushed her out of the way but couldn’t avoid being struck himself. He fell and hit his head, suffering massive brain trauma.
“I will never get over turning around and seeing him on the ground,” Mrs. Biddle said.
He died on Saturday at Mount Carmel West Hospital.
Betty Biddle walked through her house yesterday holding a picture of her husband, Clark. Now and then, she kissed it.
“I don’t know if I’m going to make it without him,” she said.
No one who knew 88-year-old Clark Biddle well would be surprised to know that his final act, last Thursday, was to push his wife of 68 years out of the way of a car.
She was bruised. He died.
“Sometimes I wish I went with him,” said Mrs. Biddle, also 88, sitting in the living room of her house in Norwich Township.
“I really do.”
The couple’s son, Gary, said Mr. Biddle had been Mrs. Biddle’s primary caregiver since she fell and broke a hip two years ago. He undoubtedly acted out of instinct when he pushed her to safety before the car, backing out of a shopping center parking space, could hit her.
“It would just be natural for him,” said Gary Biddle, who lives in Hong Kong.
The Biddles’ relationship reflects a classic American story: sweethearts at West High School, Class of 1944, who put marriage on hold so he could serve in the Army during World War II.
After the war, he obtained a degree from Ohio State University and opened Biddle’s Drive-In Restaurant, a business on W. Broad Street that he ran for 25 years.
They had two children: Gary and his sister, Sally Cress, of Upper Arlington.
In the 1970s, the family moved from Lincoln Village to the larger place near Hilliard. He loved riding his mower and sharing the bounty of his vegetable garden.
“Just a very loving man in general, to his wife and to his kids and to the neighbors,” said Laura Jones, who has lived next door to the Biddles since 1999.
After Jones’ husband died six years ago, Mr. Biddle let her dog out every day when she was at work, she said. He always left two cookies and a short note for her.
Mr. Biddle had many interests: He played saxophone and clarinet in dance bands, enjoyed fishing and was an active member of the Aladdin Shrine.
“He was also a pilot,” his son said. “We had a small plane when I was a boy. He thrilled my Cub Scout mates with rides once.”
Going to the grocery store with Mr. Biddle, son-in-law Dan Cress said, was never a short trip.
“Everybody in the place would know this guy. It was just amazing how he connected with people.”
He loved to talk about his deep Columbus roots. Mr. Biddle was a descendant of Thomas Biddle, who arrived in Columbus in 1830 from Wales, established a farm on what now is the north end of Downtown and opened a lumber mill that supplied wood for the construction of the Ohio Statehouse.
The Biddles maintained a monthly ritual of getting together for lunch with old classmates from West High.
That’s where they were headed about 1:30 p.m. last Thursday when the accident happened.
Mr. Biddle had helped his wife, who uses a walker, from their car and was holding her by an arm as they crossed the parking lot of O’Charley’s restaurant in the Georgesville Square Shopping Center, she said.
When he saw the backing car, he pushed her out of the way but couldn’t avoid being struck himself. He fell and hit his head, suffering massive brain trauma.
“I will never get over turning around and seeing him on the ground,” Mrs. Biddle said.
He died on Saturday at Mount Carmel West Hospital.
Columbus police Sgt. Brooke Wilson, of the accident-investigation unit, said the driver initially was cited with a misdemeanor, but that has been dropped until there is more investigation of what happened.
As they prepare for a service on Sunday to celebrate the life of Mr. Biddle, his family and friends are still trying to process the loss.
The phone at Mrs. Biddle’s house rang frequently yesterday as people called with condolences.
Button, a small, white dog belonging to the Biddles’ daughter, wandered around confused. Mr. Biddle frequently watched Button.
“She misses her grandpa,” Mrs. Biddle said.
Out in the garage sat trays of tomato seedlings. Mr. Biddle was growing them for himself, his neighbors and anyone else who might like a few.
Button, a small, white dog belonging to the Biddles’ daughter, wandered around confused. Mr. Biddle frequently watched Button.
“She misses her grandpa,” Mrs. Biddle said.
Out in the garage sat trays of tomato seedlings. Mr. Biddle was growing them for himself, his neighbors and anyone else who might like a few.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
And That's How Life Works
Ok, I know I said "good bye," but things change -- now I'm saying "hello again." Why? Well, while I have successfully kicked the CBitch from my body, I realized this morning that the positive beyond-the-body after affects render this blog still relevant -- at least for awhile longer. A variety of factors brought me to this conclusion, two in particular: Feb. 23 marked my third year as a survivor -- HOORAY! Another was a recent invitation to share my experience at an annual cancer survivor picnic in June. I said "yes," which left me feeling humbled, a little frightened, and excited. I have to get these remarks -- my story -- right, and I believe that only can be achieved with the help of Bosomundheit.
To quote the first line of lyrics from a favorite Sound of Music song, "Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start..."
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