Eviction Notice: Buella (Cancer), You Have Been Served!

Dear Buella,

This is your notice that you are being permanently evicted from the premises, also known as my body, effective July 1. You have exceeded the number of recommended days to be in residence by more than 30 days; therefore, you will forcibly be removed so you can no longer wreak havoc upon the landscape of our lives.

- Management / Allie

Dear Family and Friends,

On July 1st, I will have a double mastectomy and begin reconstructive surgery. Buella, the name I gave my tumor, has been served her eviction notice after 70+ days since detection, and we are grateful to have a date scheduled.  However, I do keep trying to convince Gavin that traveling to the Amalfi Coast for pasta and coffee would do wonders for healing cancer instead. If you have a study that supports my hypothesis, please share it with me, as I have read at least 50 research articles and a few books about cancer in the past month and have yet to find a correlation or causation study about the benefits of authentic pasta and coffee on tumor shrinkage.

As I reflect back over this more than two-month disease-finding journey, learning I had breast cancer has turned out to be the easy part. It has been an emotional adventure, even more than it is physical.  The physical side of the process has been minimally uncomfortable because I have had only had tests and scans up to this point. However, we have had to fight insurance plans, advocate and relocate to seek timely treatment and navigate an egotistical doctor. On top of all that, I am battling anxiety that shows up as uncontrollable shakes (mistaken for cold, earning me warm blankets at appointments) and strange, electric sensations under my skin that makes it hard to fall asleep at night. I am nauseated a lot and have lost about ten pounds since I learned of the diagnosis with lack of appetite, mostly diet modification, and some long early morning God walk and talks. Then there are the nightmares, which have intensified since the eviction notice was rendered /scheduled.

I could write a few horror stories if I expounded upon the torturous last few nights. During the day, I can use reason, my knowledge of neuroscience, and meditation to distract myself from my fears. However, when the shadows of sleep are upon me, the fears grow with an imaginative flair that sucks the energy out of me and steals my breath away. I tried a sleeping pill a few nights back but was so incredibly groggy the next day I did not feel like it was worth it. However, awakening today, my heart feels like I have something heavy I cannot let go of, and the tears easily sprung from the well I have been pretty good at keeping locked up throughout the ordeal. 

I'm not afraid of the pain or losing my breasts as much as I fear how I'll feel afterward and the questions that keep running through my mind. The most terrifying questions come out late at night. What will Buella reveal about my future treatment plan?  How will I feel when I wake up and the feminine components of my body are missing? I know my husband, Gavin, will love me no matter what, and my faith reminds me I am a woman of God, but the fear lingers. 

I know that as God prunes me in this season of life and death, I will gradually embrace the lessons I am learning, and I may even find that I have answers to some of the lingering questions that remain. Will life ever feel normal again? How long will my immediate family carry the weight of ongoing care?  How long will I be looking for symptoms of recurrence? Will there come a day I do not think about cancer or cringe when I see or hear the word? 

I have learned on this journey there is beauty in accepting support, medication, and prayer for myself. I have had sweet conversations with women who have also experienced this path. I have been showered with blessings and lovely little gifts like a bracelet, warm socks, coffee cup, devotionals, candles, and a gift card for food. However, most of all, I am grateful for all of the people who are calling out to Jesus for our family. 

I have been asked multiple times what people can do, and I haven't really had anything I can say I need except prayer and encouragement. I truly believe the power of prayer is the best thing for our family right now. If you would like to help, pray. Pray for peace for our adult kids as they navigate this process with us and continue their own lives and dreams. Pray for Gavin as he handles our housing, medical bills, finances, work, driving me 1.5 hrs to and from appointments, and my emotional, mental, and physical care.  Pray for my care team and their families. I can imaging having to tell people daily they have cancer or working to help women just like me overcome the C word is emotionally taxing. Yet, they do it with such grace, professionalism, and compassion. Pray that the surgery goes well and that the tumor has not gone into the chest wall or skin. Pray that I can have the courage to get through this week and go to the hospital instead of hopping on a flight to Italy.  Pray that God can use our story for His glory and to help others come to know the one who holds us steady in this storm, Jesus.

Thank you all for taking the time to pray as we navigate this next step in what the doctors said would be "a hard year ahead." We are so blessed to serve a mighty and powerful God who will be with us in every moment. We will update you as best we can, but please know that if we don't always respond to your sweet cards, gift card blessings, or texts, we do appreciate and love you. God bless you all.