Preheat to 375 and Wait...
Don't you love it when people post weird titles that make no sense? Oh wait, I just did that! :) Hang with me for a few minutes, and I promise that will come together for you. But we have to cover some back stories first.
Seven weeks ago I had a follow-up visit with my surgeon after having had half my thyroid removed fourteen days before. Our major concerns going into that surgery were two-fold: that my vocal cords would be damaged, and that I might have cancer. The plan was to take half the thyroid, test the mass on it while I was still in the operating room, and if cancer was there, take the other half. The first thing I asked Steve in recovery was whether they took half or all of the thyroid. He told me they only took half, and I quickly discovered that I did indeed still have a voice, so I thought we were good to go from there and that everything would be smooth sailing, just get on some meds and move on.
So I was caught completely off-guard in the post-op appointment when the surgeon said, "Good news, bad news. The bad news is you had thyroid cancer. The good news is you don't have thyroid cancer."
Come again! What?
Turns out that on that big benign mass, there was a .5 millimeter papillary cancer. .5 millimeters! Tiny! A few bad cells! A "serendipitous, incidental finding." According to the surgeon, I could have lived my entire life without ever having symptoms from it or knowing it was there. And now it's gone. But, just to make sure it doesn't come back, he referred me to an endocrinologist (he referred to as an oncologist) to further evaluate.
Five weeks after that, I met with the endocrinologist, who confirmed what the surgeon had said, and finally, finally prescribed some medication for me. I explained our new number one concern to him, that this "cancer" finding could really put a kink in the adoption plans. I asked him what to put on the application when they ask if I have a history of cancer and he said to state that I had a papillary thyroid cancer and am now in complete remission, and that he will tell the agency the same thing. Meanwhile, I'll be monitored for a while with blood work, ultrasounds, and medication, but we don't anticipate any recurrence.
Again, not quite what I wanted to hear.
Another week went by and I worked up the courage to call the adoption agency I am most comfortable with at this moment. (That's subject to change, so I'm not listing names here.) I was informed by their intake person that thyroid cancer is in a category all by itself. Had it been any other cancer, a mandatory five-year hold would have been put on our adoption. But since I had thyroid cancer, my case will be reviewed and a lessor wait will ensue. I don't know how long that will be just yet, I have to wait for the endocrinologist's letter stating what he told me to say to arrive, so I can forward it to the agency's medical review officer, but it could be one or two years.
For a moment, that frustrated me to the point of tears. I was pretty ticked that a few bad cells were going to have such a major impact on this process, my family, and seemingly everything. Then, reality set in and I realized it's going to take me that long to raise this much money anyway, so rather than look at this as a deterrent, I am viewing it as a challenge. We'll see how much we can raise during the waiting time, so that when we're ready and able to apply, we will hopefully have an easier time getting through the paper chase with less fundraising remaining to be done. It's now my personal challenge, a game of sorts, and I'm looking forward to it.
If you know me at all, you probably know that I like to have lots of irons in the fire. I love a project, a challenge, and a goal. That is certainly true now. I am working on three or four different fundraisers all at once right now. Some of them will be announced later, but I will tell you now that there are boxes packed and ready for a rummage sale that is yet to be announced, and several pieces of furniture that we'll be Craig's Listing, just waiting in our house. God is stirring my heart with a message I can't wait to share whenever the time comes for me to sing/speak at churches. My energy is returning and I am filled with enthusiasm and anticipation as I think about the months that lie ahead and look forward to what God has in store for our family.
I've been studying the book of James and several verses have really imprinted themselves into my mind and heart during the last few weeks. Here is just a little bit of the first chapter:
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face many kinds of trials. Because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you will be mature and complete, not lacking anything. . . ."
The chapter goes on with a lot more wonderful wisdom, but the point I'm driving at is found in those three verses.
The last nine weeks have been trying at best. It took me seven weeks to stop fighting and finally give into the fact that the healing process is beyond my control. I will sing again, but not yet. I will praise, but in a different way. I will learn to value times of quiet and rest. And, in God's timing, we will wrap our arms around a little child who may not even be conceived yet. I can't rush God and I'm not in control. And while it seems that I should have already known that, and to a point, I did intellectually, it's a whole other thing to let those truths resonate in my heart and be at peace with them.
I am now back to work. My intended three-week leave stretched into eight weeks, but I made it. The first day was less than glorious, but things are improving day-by-day, and I am looking ahead to new adventures.
Now, back to that pesky title....I warned you there was a lot of back story!
Anyone who has spent much time with me knows that I am a cookie baker! By the time he was four, Tyler could line up all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, in order, without being coached, because he and I made them all the time. This summer, the neighborhood kids were complaining to their moms that they didn't make homemade cookies every Sunday like I did. (I didn't even realize I was in that much of a pattern until the moms told me.) We now make double batches so that we have enough for the kids to eat some dough, share with the neighbors, have some fresh cookies from the oven, and maybe, just maybe, have a few left over for the next day.
So it is perfectly appropriate that our next adoption fundraiser comes in the way of cookies - or at least cookie dough!
We will be selling tubs of cookie dough and gourmet popcorn, starting very soon. I don't really have a particular number in mind to raise from this sale, and don't expect it to be the biggest fundraiser we'll ever do, but it should be a fun one. It's a product everybody likes and that I don't feel bad about selling. It can be frozen for up to a year, given away as care packages, enjoyed with the family, or used for a sugar fix any time!
I feel like my last several weeks have been my preparation time. I am preheated and ready to go, but the Master Chef knows the recipe and will bring his chosen ingredients together into a perfect combination of sweet, salty, spicy and bitter to make a creative masterpiece I can only imagine.
I hope you'll join us in the kitchen, figuratively and literally, it's going to be worth the wait!
Seven weeks ago I had a follow-up visit with my surgeon after having had half my thyroid removed fourteen days before. Our major concerns going into that surgery were two-fold: that my vocal cords would be damaged, and that I might have cancer. The plan was to take half the thyroid, test the mass on it while I was still in the operating room, and if cancer was there, take the other half. The first thing I asked Steve in recovery was whether they took half or all of the thyroid. He told me they only took half, and I quickly discovered that I did indeed still have a voice, so I thought we were good to go from there and that everything would be smooth sailing, just get on some meds and move on.
So I was caught completely off-guard in the post-op appointment when the surgeon said, "Good news, bad news. The bad news is you had thyroid cancer. The good news is you don't have thyroid cancer."
Come again! What?
Turns out that on that big benign mass, there was a .5 millimeter papillary cancer. .5 millimeters! Tiny! A few bad cells! A "serendipitous, incidental finding." According to the surgeon, I could have lived my entire life without ever having symptoms from it or knowing it was there. And now it's gone. But, just to make sure it doesn't come back, he referred me to an endocrinologist (he referred to as an oncologist) to further evaluate.
Five weeks after that, I met with the endocrinologist, who confirmed what the surgeon had said, and finally, finally prescribed some medication for me. I explained our new number one concern to him, that this "cancer" finding could really put a kink in the adoption plans. I asked him what to put on the application when they ask if I have a history of cancer and he said to state that I had a papillary thyroid cancer and am now in complete remission, and that he will tell the agency the same thing. Meanwhile, I'll be monitored for a while with blood work, ultrasounds, and medication, but we don't anticipate any recurrence.
Again, not quite what I wanted to hear.
Another week went by and I worked up the courage to call the adoption agency I am most comfortable with at this moment. (That's subject to change, so I'm not listing names here.) I was informed by their intake person that thyroid cancer is in a category all by itself. Had it been any other cancer, a mandatory five-year hold would have been put on our adoption. But since I had thyroid cancer, my case will be reviewed and a lessor wait will ensue. I don't know how long that will be just yet, I have to wait for the endocrinologist's letter stating what he told me to say to arrive, so I can forward it to the agency's medical review officer, but it could be one or two years.
For a moment, that frustrated me to the point of tears. I was pretty ticked that a few bad cells were going to have such a major impact on this process, my family, and seemingly everything. Then, reality set in and I realized it's going to take me that long to raise this much money anyway, so rather than look at this as a deterrent, I am viewing it as a challenge. We'll see how much we can raise during the waiting time, so that when we're ready and able to apply, we will hopefully have an easier time getting through the paper chase with less fundraising remaining to be done. It's now my personal challenge, a game of sorts, and I'm looking forward to it.
If you know me at all, you probably know that I like to have lots of irons in the fire. I love a project, a challenge, and a goal. That is certainly true now. I am working on three or four different fundraisers all at once right now. Some of them will be announced later, but I will tell you now that there are boxes packed and ready for a rummage sale that is yet to be announced, and several pieces of furniture that we'll be Craig's Listing, just waiting in our house. God is stirring my heart with a message I can't wait to share whenever the time comes for me to sing/speak at churches. My energy is returning and I am filled with enthusiasm and anticipation as I think about the months that lie ahead and look forward to what God has in store for our family.
I've been studying the book of James and several verses have really imprinted themselves into my mind and heart during the last few weeks. Here is just a little bit of the first chapter:
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face many kinds of trials. Because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you will be mature and complete, not lacking anything. . . ."
The chapter goes on with a lot more wonderful wisdom, but the point I'm driving at is found in those three verses.
The last nine weeks have been trying at best. It took me seven weeks to stop fighting and finally give into the fact that the healing process is beyond my control. I will sing again, but not yet. I will praise, but in a different way. I will learn to value times of quiet and rest. And, in God's timing, we will wrap our arms around a little child who may not even be conceived yet. I can't rush God and I'm not in control. And while it seems that I should have already known that, and to a point, I did intellectually, it's a whole other thing to let those truths resonate in my heart and be at peace with them.
I am now back to work. My intended three-week leave stretched into eight weeks, but I made it. The first day was less than glorious, but things are improving day-by-day, and I am looking ahead to new adventures.
Now, back to that pesky title....I warned you there was a lot of back story!
Anyone who has spent much time with me knows that I am a cookie baker! By the time he was four, Tyler could line up all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, in order, without being coached, because he and I made them all the time. This summer, the neighborhood kids were complaining to their moms that they didn't make homemade cookies every Sunday like I did. (I didn't even realize I was in that much of a pattern until the moms told me.) We now make double batches so that we have enough for the kids to eat some dough, share with the neighbors, have some fresh cookies from the oven, and maybe, just maybe, have a few left over for the next day.
So it is perfectly appropriate that our next adoption fundraiser comes in the way of cookies - or at least cookie dough!
We will be selling tubs of cookie dough and gourmet popcorn, starting very soon. I don't really have a particular number in mind to raise from this sale, and don't expect it to be the biggest fundraiser we'll ever do, but it should be a fun one. It's a product everybody likes and that I don't feel bad about selling. It can be frozen for up to a year, given away as care packages, enjoyed with the family, or used for a sugar fix any time!
I feel like my last several weeks have been my preparation time. I am preheated and ready to go, but the Master Chef knows the recipe and will bring his chosen ingredients together into a perfect combination of sweet, salty, spicy and bitter to make a creative masterpiece I can only imagine.
I hope you'll join us in the kitchen, figuratively and literally, it's going to be worth the wait!
I am SO there!
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