2026: It is a lemon.

 I had not blogged in years. Had a mountaintop moment when things were finally coming together and my mental health had really improved and my health has been following, I wanted to hit 2026 head on with all the appointments, putting on my big girl pants. I shared in a recent post celebrating the victories. Little did I expect that a mammogram would show a spot in my left breast and after further testing, I would need a biopsy. So here I sit, my left breast incredibly tender from yesterday's procedure, my mouth sore from an intense dental cleaning, and now a large cut on my face for a skin biopsy from a spot that my dermatologist provider found this morning. It is not easy for my brain to be positive and to focus on all things good and holy, but my mind is asking God why? And my heart hurts thinking of my sweet miracle son that looks at me as if I hung the moon, wanting to mom him until the end of time. 

So here I am, documenting that I may be on one of the greatest mountaintops or entering a new valley, trusting that God is already the Author of my story. And I want to focus on that as much as I can, even in the sleepless nights and in the worry. Ironically, I wrote in my planner months ago in planning for this month: "Go to sleep. God is always awake." It is almost as if God was already planting the seeds in my heart. 

As much as this year has started as a lemon, I have to remember God is at work. And this year, while it is a total lemon, God is in the business of lemonade. 

Where Are The Bodies Buried?

Do you have those friends that know where the bodies are buried? Of course I don't mean that literally, but who knows all of the tea in your life? I am not talking about the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" kind of conversations. I am talking about the hard stuff. Like "Do you want to be buried or cremated?" and "Who will be guardian of your kids should something happen?" Are you having those hard conversations with anyone? They are uncomfortable, awkward, and often painful, but they need to be had. 

I have had these conversations a lot more recently. There were (and are) a lot of tears. It has been painful, but surprisingly, somewhat therapeutic. It becomes less awkward as we talk and it spurs on all kinds of interesting things to be learned from each other. It is almost like we should have parties at each others' houses to say this is where I keep the checkbook, this is where the passwords are, and this is what  I want when _______ (you fill in the blank). 

It is also a reminder that there is so much value to living in community. As we have all been living in such isolation for the year, that community has become fragmented and distanced. I am guilty of it for sure. I get lost in the land of plastic toys and bubble machines in our backyard, trying to get through the day without worrying if one of us contracted COVID-19 and what our jobs will look like tomorrow. I have been guilty of not leaving voicemails. Preferring a text over a phone call. And email over Zoom. But I have been stopped in my tracks. I am making the phone calls to say the things I mean. I am writing the longer messages to tell people that they are on my heart and mind. I am asking people to come help us care for our son so that we are not always walking in that alone. There is such beauty in the fellowship and also such release from all of the pressures being able to share in those precious moments of life. The other night I asked my mother-in-law and sister-in-law to come help me with Thomas' dinner and night routine. It turned out to be a memory forever etched in my brain as we sat in his room and sang songs. He loved the audience and I loved that he was able to see that there are so many people caring for him and loving him. 

So many times I have found myself saying we need to pause and say what is on our hearts. We need to share where the "bodies are buried." Life is hard enough that we shouldn't be walking it alone. 

One Thing Remains.

And I mean that in more ways than one. Every song this morning was a reminder of God's faithfulness. Count it no coincidence that it was en route to the fertility doctor appointment these songs played. I wish I could say I was in the "go get 'em" mindset, but the weekend was a blip on the radar and though I had a great time with my future mother-in-law and my youngest sister-in-law doing wedding things, I feel like the weekend was overshadowed by a sick puppy and a broken down truck. Mind you said sick puppy woke me every hour last night to go outside to be sick. So when the radio played a series of songs that were pretty much hand-selected for me, I was stopped in my tracks to remember life is beautiful, even in the chaos.

The fertility appointment had a bit of pleasant news as one of the growths is no longer seen on the ultrasound. And the other growth looks to be a bit smaller, which is also a great indication. We are waiting on bloodwork to see if we can start the meds, but at least I am hopeful. Cancer is not spreading today. For that, I have a grateful heart. And that broken truck turned out to only be a dead battery.

And then on my way to work after the appointment, this was the song bringing me to tears.

"One Thing Remains"

Higher than the mountains that I face
Stronger than the power of the grave
Constant through the trial and the change
One thing remains

Your love never fails, it never gives up
It never runs out on me

On and on and on and on it goes
For it overwhelms and satisfies my soul
And I never ever have to be afraid
One thing remains

Your love never fails, it never gives up 
It never runs out on me

Your love

Folks, one thing remains. His love (and only *one smaller* growth).

Reset Button and then Reset Again. Then one more time.

Oh balls...it has been one heck of a wild ride since leaving my job weeks ago. And just when I thought I had it all figured out, I have had to hit the reset button not once, not twice, but three times until I could finally get it right. It is no accident that in the last few weeks I have learned that I've been running 100 mph for so long that now everyone seems snail paced.I have also learned how to check my ego, how to value my worth, and that the grass is not always greener. But through it all, I am strong and I am finding my groove again.

I am thankful that I have met some amazing people along the way in the recent journey. Genuinely good people that I wish nothing but good on. This is more about learning that since leaving the teaching profession, my heart has not been settled. As I was so heavily involved with my kids as a teacher and coach, I have yearned (without realizing), that I find such joy in helping people. It is in my nature to serve and support. I have a need to be needed. The dichotomy comes in my creative brain that thrives in chaos. It has created such a challenge professionally as I find that one is sacrificed for the other. In a perfect and hopeful world, both will find equal place.

What I have learned in recent weeks is that the man I do life with is incredibly patient, kind, supportive and all things good for me. As I tend to find myself on the roller coaster time and time again, he stands by while I loop around one too many times without an I told you so on his breath (though I think he keeps those thoughts quietly in his back pocket). Bless him for enduring. And for his bouts of humor.

I have also learned that I'm impatient and often in the worst ways. I knew this about myself but have had to finally admit it begrudgingly. It does cause for a few eye rolls.

I am learning that doing life with intention is not easy. Life is messy. Sometimes life sucks, but life is also beautiful. There is a lot of hurt in the midst, but I have hope in the healing. Life can be chaos, but there is calm before and after the storms. I color in chaos.

In putting down roots again, there is vulnerability. True commitment stays, even when things get ugly. You can't run or hide when things get tough or uncomfortable. I want to be in it for the long haul. I want moments of joy to be etched in my memory bank as a well of resource when there are moments of drought.

For the most part, I am back in my own skin. My body is still somewhat tired (especially after starting Pure Barre, but I'll save that for a future post) but my soul is reenergized. Travel has done my heart well. I've spent time in Idaho with some of my favies and also took a long overdue vacation with an open ended agenda. It was an incredible coastal trip with my favorite companion. Lots of outdoor adventures, food indulges, and some great wine with amazing weather in the quaintest cabin made for moments to treasure along with the rocks and shells we brought home.

All to say, I'm indulging in my art again, getting healthy, cooking a lot (and actually well!), and enjoying the company I keep. Like the year I moved 8 times, and the year I went through meeting a ton of new people in my relationship transition, this Year of Adventure has led to significant professional change(s). But like the other changes, I'm finding myself in an even better place than I would imagine as it is opening the future for good.

So I will keep on dreaming. I will take the risks. And live just on the outskirts of my comfort zone. I will breathe deeply. I will look for joy, even in the desert moments. I encourage you to do the same. Trust me. It's where you find the treasure.

Rest Required.

So I am now in the cancer recovery zone from my surgery and barrage of doctor appointments. With an unexpected turn of being put on disability, I have been forced to rest from Dr. K for a few weeks. With skyrocketing blood pressure and the reopening of two incisions, I am now taking in the doctor's orders and find myself now at home most days, watching Netflix and writing, but also pouring my energies into resurrecting my need to create, draw, and paint. Alas, the birth of Paper Velveteen.

On a few attempts, I have tried to pursue my dreams to be an illustrator and children's author, but it always seemed as though life got in the way. Though that dream has evolved some, I am allowing my brush to do work once again. My new space has also been inspiring to do so along with the undivided time to devote. My work desk sits under two windows which gives so much natural light. As well, I find myself having dreams of new ideas, which is welcomed after weeks of restless sleep due to incisions, stress, and other such worries. (Still feels strange though not being in the office each day.)


It feels good to be back in my creative element. To listen to the still, small voice telling me that I can do this. That I can create something from nothing. That dreams come true with some ingenuity and hard work. And they aren't to be ignored.

So with that being said, I am in need of prayer as there are still some changes that need to be made. Some healing that is still underway. And a small dream starting to ignite into something quite undefined at this point.

Looking forward to this next chapter once again. After all, isn't this to be the year of adventure?!

p.s. If you are not yet following, give @papervelveteen some love. And please, tell your friends! There is more to come!

{The epic logo of Paper Velveteen was designed by the one and only @hat_daddy. Thanks, homie.}

My Hallelujah Shoes.

January 28, 2016: Hallelujah shoes.

I do declare that these are my hallelujah shoes. In all that has been happening, I have intentionally been taking shoe photos, whether in the doctor's office, waiting for blood work, walking Stella, or just running an errand. Because no matter what is going on, I am going to find ways to celebrate by documenting the shoes I wear on that particular day or moment. I commemorate with one thing that I can control in all of this...my choice of shoes. I can't control the outcome, but I can control how I react (and of course, what shoes I wear). Bear with the idea that this is my journey. This is my story. And these are my hallelujah shoes.

Yesterday gave plenty of reason for a hallelujah. At the eleventh hour, during my pre-op madness, my pathology report had come in. Coincidence? I think not. And Dr. L asked me to wait so we could discuss. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I was trying to rush out as I didn't really want to hear the news and I was trying to squeeze in my EKG before work. Oy vei.

But I waited. And in he came with a smirk on his face (and what I think was a tear in his eye). He said,  "I don't know what you did, kid, but there is no trace of cancer here." NO. TRACE. OF. CANCER. After 3 different doctors were all preparing and assuming for this to be breast cancer (especially with my health history of already being a Stage III survivor and a likely candidate of carrying the BRCA gene), I was preparing for the best outcomes as it all appeared to be in early stages, but...there is NO. TRACE. OF CANCER. I had an army of people praying over me. This is God's answer. I didn't have to do anything, Dr. L, but trust and hope.

Even Dr. K's office called to tell me "Congratulations" as they had gotten word that my pathology showed no trace of cancer. Lumpectomy = cancelled. So Monday, I will have only one cancer surgery rather than two. Crazy to celebrate such things, but I am thankful that my recovery will be half of what I was expecting. (Plus, I wasn't sure I was mentally ready to have a hat trick on cancer.)

As I have to go under for this surgery, prayer appreciated for a routine procedure and no issues with my heart as that was a concern in my last surgery. I have two weeks to lay low until the wounds are healed up.

There is joy in the journey. In whatever your situation, put on your hallelujah shoes, people.

The J Collection.

xoxoxo for the well wishes.

It is no secret that somehow along the way, I have collected a handful of J's, many of which I hold near and dear. And two of my favorite J's sent some gorgeous flowers to my house in well wishes. Note, the flowers were all in shades of orange, which I know was purposeful as they coordinate with the city in which I now live. **insert fluttering heart for that attention to detail**

I am ready to get this chapter underway. I have come to terms that I have cancer, yet again. The tiresome days are starting to wear as we are in the nitty gritty days of moving as well as the overall feeling of just knowing what is to come. I am 100% ready to kick this thing. As well, I am reveling in the creativity that is starting to flow. Crisis has a way of awakening the sleeping giants. And let me tell you, this cancer journey (times 3) is a story in the making.

January 30 will mark Cancer-versary #9, marking another year to wear teal. If you choose to join in on the teal on that day, please use #fortheloveofovaries on your social media and tag me in any posts as I am still making my yearly collage to mark the day of life and celebration, as well as bring awareness to ovarian cancer fighters and survivors.

xoxoxo.
.ellen.

Sidenote: I am forever grateful for the outpouring of love, calls, visits, offers to help. As there are moments that this is all quite overwhelming, please forgive me if my response time is delayed slightly as I am still working full time until surgery, in the midst of moving, and scheduling a large handful or pre-op and post-op appointments as well as preparing for the few weeks out of the office.

More Ice Cream.

I am almost positive I heard Dr. K tell me to celebrate with ice cream and a Powerball ticket after my appointment yesterday. Ok, so maybe it was just to buy a lottery ticket as I am due for some good luck, but ice cream was still needed. And I may or may not blame the fact that my sister doesn't have Rite-Aid/Thrifty ice cream in Idaho, she *needed* to have a big fat scoop (or two) of chocolate malted crunch with me. It has been really fun having her in town. Definitely was good for my spirits (but not for my waistline).

I can't lie that today feels like a new day after a good night of rest (finally) and after meeting my new oncologist. Dr. K is gifted in all of the right areas, specializing in breast cancer and melanoma. Can't go wrong that she is also a UCLA grad. (of course, divine intervention) Dr. K has given a very clear action plan, so now it just feels like we need to put it in place. And until that plan takes action, I can sleep that much better knowing we've got this.

Diagnosis is definitely melanoma. And as cancer is cancer, she said we are looking at a curable situation as we are still in early stages (praise be). And based on pathology, we are assuming breast cancer as well, but again, at an early stage that can be cured with a lumpectomy. Thankfully, Dr. K can perform both surgeries so I only have to go under once. (I swear I will eventually conquer my fear of needles.)

Dr. K has already been in conversation with Dr. L to make sure there is a good knowledge of my health history. Their conversation was actually quite tender as Dr. L expressed his concern for wanting to make sure that I am ok and Dr. K telling him she has a genuine heart for me. You really couldn't ask for doctors with any better bedside than these two.

Surgery is set for February 1. I will be out for a few weeks to recover if all goes as planned. As I have a few weeks from surgery, this will give time to get pre-op done as well as finish moving. (yes, I am moving again.) Timing will be good for things on the work front as well as getting Stella adjusted to our new house to avoid a pee monster situation. And as I will be adjusting in the new house, I will have a chance to get settled since I will not be allowed to leave the house much after surgery to avoid potential infections.

There will be a handful of co-pays to handle, but should be manageable and thankfully, I have insurance. I will need help doing life for a bit, but I have good people and family around me that will make this so easy. And it is a good excuse to hang out with folks as life often gets in the way. Plus, I have Jack. And he comes with one heck of an army ready to help.

All to say, I feel very fortunate to have such an amazing doctor, but also to feel such love and support from everyone. It is another one of those chapters that reminds me of God's faithfulness. I am feeling such peace in what should once again be a time of incredible fear.

Cancer, thank you. We are going to kick you this round too.

2016: The Year of Adventure.

I had no idea when the year started with a pending motto, that my declaration for 2016 to be The Year of Adventure that it would mean that my adventure would begin with some major unexpected news.

Almost to the date of my January 30, ovarian cancer-versary (the diagnosis date of my Stage III ovarian cancer), that I would once again be marking a new cancer-versary date on my calendar: January 6, 2016--Melanoma. I don't know if I am even ready to claim it, but I am now battling skin cancer. This is going to be a roller coaster of new emotions and battles. A bit of background to all of this...I had not been feeling well and I had taken a bit of a sabbatical from doctor visits as it gets tiring being their pin cushion. I got my new insurance underway and made the trek to my childhood doctor, Dr. Longnecker. He is good. He knows my family, my health history, and I trust him. Little did I know that the visit would uncover many looming medical conditions.

"Your life is an occasion. Rise to it."

I am not yet ready to go in to detail of all of it, but the main concerns focus around the confirmed melanoma diagnosis and pending tests for breast cancer. If I am a cat with nine lives, I am looking at borrowing a few as I am running out.

Where this all stands...I have an emergency appointment with a melanoma specialist on Tuesday, January 12. Surgery is most likely to happen then to see if we can clear the margins. I am going to have my entourage with me to help me hear the important details at the appointment.

What I have learned in this thus far...I have the most amazing support system in place. Jack is my superhero. I am forever grateful that God has blessed me with the very best man to be my partner in all of this. Family has rallied around in love. I have friends that are my prayer warriors, cheerleaders, partners, and advocates. I work with incredible people that are holding me up in love, prayer, support, and positive energy.

It is no question that once again, God has my attention. That just when I felt like I was on the mountain top, I find myself in a new valley. I have to believe that this will be another miraculous victory. And I also have to believe that it is just another chapter in my story. It won't end here. I am coming back with a vengeance and ready to chase new dreams after we tackle this big bump in the road. Though it may not be the adventure we had planned, we are taking it on to be the best adventure yet.

Prayers welcome. Medical updates to come...