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Posted
August 10, 2016
Category
Cancer, Happiness, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Positivity, Wellness
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30 Responses

So, a blog it is…

Everyone has battles to fight. Some are hidden well, while others are marked blatantly with scars and loss. Personal struggles can deplete our will and our happiness and our health; but in most cases, there is at least some small thing that remains in our life for which we can be grateful for. I may not always feel balanced and sure, but I can always find some small moment to appreciate or some new way to be well.

Wellness by definition is not a goal; it is a process. And although the tenets of emotional, physical, social, vocational, intellectual and spiritual awareness create the framework for a model of wellness; each person’s goal is unique, and the paths can vary greatly.  I am all about finding workable routes on those individualized paths. For 25 years, no matter my occupation, I have aspired to help others learn on different levels.  I believe I was born a teacher, but I have officially taught Behavioral Health, Wellness, Nutrition, Yoga, Communications, Language Arts and Aromatherapy.  My current area of study is Integrative Health.

Last week, life led my career out of a beloved, concrete-block classroom and back to my humble home with my husband and two sons.  Keeping a job while caring for my youngest, medically fragile child was no longer in my family’s best interest. For two years, I have cared for my eight-year-old son, Abraham, as he battled brain cancer.  He was diagnosed at six during his final week of kindergarten.  Up until that point, he was a healthy, strong and active child. Then our world shifted into survival mode. As Abraham transitions to recovery after two years of treatments which included five brain surgeries, six weeks of a chemo-radiation combo, and then straight up chemotherapy for an additional nine months, I am recovering, too. His prognosis is still unclear, but with each stable three-month MRI, we celebrate. This blog is my outlet to simultaneously deal with my “new normal” while building my own version of a positive, happy existence.

I hope others will benefit from the intended transparency of my family’s journey, too.  Even though the online haters will bother me, the technology will challenge me, and my time to work still comes in waves, I want to share our story.

I may always prefer pencils to pixels, but I try to live in the modern world where some of today’s best helpers write blogs.  I may not have a classroom anymore, but I have a computer, basic internet service, and a desire to continue educating others on ways to find harmony amid the chaos of our singular existence.

So, a blog it is.

Posted
June 7, 2021
Category
Kindness
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1 Response

Blemishes

Waiting is hard.

Unknowns are confusing and scary. Interpreting and navigating the results and choices concerning our children comes with a level of protective concern that goes beyond what we would do for ourselves. For all those reasons and more, being a cancer mom rips me apart on the regular.

Two weeks ago, Abraham had his MRI and there were new developments on both his brain and spine scans. Today, we met with the oncologist and were given the best case scenario by his highly-skilled, caring team of doctors: wait and watch.

How does that feel? It feels good. It feels hopeful. It feels heavy. It feels scary. It feels unfair but tolerable. It feels unclear but navigable.

When talking to Abraham about his scans last week, I was at a loss for encouraging conversation -and helpful words are my specialty! If there’s another side to a story or a place to look for hope I will find it. If there is good to be seen in a hopeless situation I will see it. If there is a redeeming quality in a seemingly horrible person I will undoubtably mention it. But when it came to interpreting the unknowns on his recent scans, I couldn’t find the words.

Anyone who’s read a detailed radiology report knows how complex it can be. Add in a history of a very rare cancer, five brain surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, transfusions, and the slew of resulting side effects and the clinical murky waters turn down right muddy.


When Abraham saw that I was at a loss, he grew reflective and sat still. I stayed close to him on the couch and hoped our quiet togetherness would be enough.

But it wasn’t enough.

Abram took the bits and pieces I had shared about the developments on his scans and he gave me a new way of looking at it. He told me we should look at the report with its big technical words that span the unknowns with scary terms like “concerning“ and “questionable“ and call the scary bits “blemishes”.

So that’s what we will do. Is it new scar tissue? Is it artifact from surgery? Is it a result of a proton beam? Is it more? Well, instead of hoping for the power and certainty of knowledge that simply is not there when it comes to cancer -we will look at the new spots as blemishes: small marks that detract from perfection, but also bring out the character and beauty of our bodies and our souls and our relationships and our lives.

I had braced myself for the worst, so right now I am processing and won’t come out the other side with the relief and the hope and the joy that this good news deserves until I’ve had a good cry and a decent sleep.

I know what it feels like to be told my child has cancer. I know what it feels like to be told the cancer has returned. This was not either of those things. If our choices are the current unknowns or the certainty of a tumor, the obvious choice is to revel in and TRULY celebrate the blemished unknowns.

I may not have all the answers, but I have my sons and my husband, and my family and my friends and my home and my work and my faith… the list of blessings goes on and on.

I also have a very quiet voice inside me that continues to say, “Abraham will do great things.” I embrace that reassuring voice of hope and invite you all to do the same.

Peace, love, joy, and thanks…

Posted
December 30, 2019
Category
Cancer, Caregivers, Caregiving, Compassion, Family, Forgiveness, Functional Wellness, Grace, Gratitude, Grief, Growth, Guided Imagery, Happiness, harmony, Hope, Humor, Integrative Health, Integrity, Joy, Kindness, Love, Mothers, Parenting, Peace, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Photography, Poetry, Positive Attitude, Positivity, Self-Care, Self-Love, Selfcare, Selflessness, Selflove, Stress Reduction, Tolerance, Unity, Wellness
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Start with One

Start with One.

One deep breath.

One walk.

One brussel sprout.

One honest, yet much-needed talk.

One clean glass of water.

One bottle unbought.

One more minute to get there.

One more peaceful thought.

One smoothie.

One smile.

One true need.

One pile.

One donation.

One cause.

One beat before leaving.

One pause.

One trip to the park.

One page.

One overdue goodbye.

One wave.

One bag of recycling.

One hug.

One act done in kindness.

One reusable coffee mug.

One sunrise alone.

One sunset with friends.

One meal without phones.

One firm boundary set.

One more of this.

One less of that.

One time let it go.

One time don’t react.

One trigger unfollowed.

One debt repaid.

One try again tomorrow for

One start begun today.

JAD 12.30.19

Posted
August 16, 2019
Category
Anxiety, Behavioral Health, Cancer, Caregivers, Caregiving, Compassion, Dorothy Canfield Fisher, Essential Oils, Family, Fear, Fitness, Functional Wellness, Grace, Gratitude, Grief, Growth, Happiness, harmony, Hope, Integrative Health, Integrity, Joy, Love, Lurie Children’s Hospital, Mothers, Parenting, Peace, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Positive Attitude, Positivity, Ronald McDonald House, Self-Care, Self-Love, Selfcare, Selflove, Stress Reduction, Tolerance, Wellness
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Modeling Care

“A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary.” -Dorothy Canfield Fisher

This photo by the lake feels real to me: my eyes are closed and I’m clutching my phone, yet my boys are happy by my side and my heart knows that I am standing right where I should be.

Taking the time to rest models healthy behaviors and nurtures the peace in our hearts. Finding that peace alongside those we love can be one of life’s greatest blessings. I try my best to nourish and protect my own energy because I cherish the responsibility I’ve been given to care for those I love.

Directions Wellness began as a desire to provide a space of safe, practical, natural, energy-based support to “care for the caregiver.”

Why?

Within hours of entering the world of pediatric brain cancer, I wished that there was a handbook -a set of “directions” to help me push past the terror and desperation clouding my judgement and choose what was best for our family.

As time went on, I saw the need for an integrative approach to healthcare, and felt at home bridging the gap between the conventional treatment our child desperately needed to save his life with the support that can come from a variety of natural healing modalities.

For many, healthy options can be difficult to find and implement. Finding ways to feel well despite mounting obstacles became my mission. Over the last five years, that mission evolved into vocation, and the emerging platform became Directions Wellness.

Oftentimes, those who by choice or by circumstance are responsible for the wellbeing of others can lose sight of their own self care. I share my knowledge and experience as a behavioral health educator and functional practitioner as a means to help others discover, personalize, and examine their health options -no matter how seemingly vast or limited the time and resources.

This week, I took my own self-care advice and recharged with family by Lake Michigan. As a result, my body is rested and gratitude fills my heart as I humbly offer my best self to those around me.

Peace, love, practice, and hope…

Posted
July 8, 2019
Category
Anxiety, Cancer, Compassion, Family, Fear, Grace, Gratitude, Growth, Happiness, harmony, Hope, Humor, Joy, Love, Lurie Children’s Hospital, Mothers, Parenting, Peace, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Positive Attitude, Positivity, Wellness
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Infusion Game Strong

“Be happy in the moment, that’s enough.” -Mother Theresa

With patience and a solid sense of humor, Abraham can bring happiness and ease to some serious situations. Today, our young warrior was exceptionally prepared, present, and positive. Even at the onset of a long, daunting medical task, those smiling, honest eyes let everyone in the room know he was going to be just fine.

Back home, Big Brother Tom shined up the kitchen, washed the windows, and set out these little lovelies (snips of Saturday’s bouquet) to make us feel cheerful, welcome, and calm.

Since May, Abraham knew the stim tests were happening after the 4th of July. Even though he’s been infused plenty, it’s never easy; plus, hormones are new territory.

We were blessed with a smooth day: highly-skilled double IV access to start, a LOT of necessary but swift blood draws, 7/8 of a game of checkers, laughter during two movies (Zootopia and Minions), one ice pack, plentiful ice chips, a puke bucket rapidly taken out that was not utilized, quick traffic (big shoutout to chauffeur Aunt Margaret), and warm sunshine .

Thank you for carrying us in your thoughts today -it lifted us.

Peace and love…

Posted
May 29, 2019
Category
Cancer, Family, Kindness, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Positivity, Wellness
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Moments before Cancer

Treasured moments are everywhere. Coach Dad and Babe waiting for the team to arrive is one I was lucky to capture in May 2014.

For many, the simple joys of life are overlooked due to rushed schedules, skewed priorities, distracted downtime, and apathetic outlooks. Yet, with the right perspective, even the worst of days deserve gratitude.

The time we are given each and every day to honor a life we love can easily be ignored, but its value becomes shockingly evident the moment we realize how fragile life can be.

This second photo was taken just as I was leaving for Abraham’s first MRI. We were ruling out a concussion because he’d smacked his head on a newly posted metal sign as he and his brother ran off the T-ball field. I had planned to return to work after lunch; I was to direct these two happy boys and the rest of their class at the 8th grade graduation that night. Instead, I found myself frantically driving a frightened, pain-stricken Abraham to Lurie Children’s Hospital for the first time. The Dan Ryan expressway was under construction and it took nearly three hours to get there. Helplessly stranded with traffic at a standstill, our sweet, always-happy 6-year-old began to cry out from his booster seat that he couldn’t stand the pain in his head and was “absolutely sure” he was dying. My husband, Chris, tried from the passenger side to help us both, but there really was nothing he could do. Our ER experience was surreal -colored in blurry waves of panic, pain, and tears.

Ultimately, the incredibly talented and compassionate hospital team got our little boy into emergency surgery and relieved the pressure on his brain. I remember still being in those same clothes the next day.

So in addition to the happiness this photo represents, I remember that horrific day as graced with blessings because we were pushed by circumstance, guided with care, and able to address the truth of Abram’s situation before it was too late.

Treasurable moments aren’t always obvious. In fact, we rarely know when a particular happy experience could be our last. With gratitude, we can uncover our own valuable truths -as we celebrate each precious day we are given.

Peace and love…

Posted
April 25, 2019
Category
Anxiety, Cancer, Compassion, Family, Fear, Forgiveness, Grace, Gratitude, Grief, Growth, Happiness, harmony, Hope, Integrity, Joy, Kindness, Love, Parenting, Peace, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Positive Attitude, Positivity, Selflessness, Tolerance, Wellness
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Life Matters

Letting go is not the same as forgetting. Loss happens. Illness and injury happens. But, LIFE happens to matter most of all. What we do with our pain is up to us. Do we ignore it? Do we surrender to it? Do we let it define us? Or, do we feel it, tend it, and grow through it? We are not what happens to us. We are who we become -driven by our choices, our actions, and our reactions to life’s blessings and trials. Notice those blessings; learn through the trials; and nourish the gift of life that remains.

Peace.

Posted
March 18, 2019
Category
Compassion, Family, Fear, Fitness, Forgiveness, Grace, Gratitude, Grief, Growth, Guided Imagery, Happiness, harmony, Hope, Humor, Integrity, Joy, Kindness, Love, Mothers, Parenting, Peace, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Positive Attitude, Positivity, Selflessness, Tolerance, Wellness
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Smile Searching

Always in search of a positive path while still living a life in the now.

Smile: it’s Monday!

-Jac

Posted
July 21, 2018
Category
Anxiety, Cancer, Compassion, Family, Fear, Grace, Gratitude, Happiness, Hope, Humor, Joy, Kindness, Love, Parenting, Peace, Perseverance, Positive Attitude, Positivity, Stress Reduction, Tolerance, Unity, Wellness
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Positive Attitude In Negative Situations (P.A.I.N.S.)

You know Abe’s had more than a couple surgeries when the anesthesiologist asks, “Which flavor mask would you like?” And he looks her pointedly in the eye like DeNiro ordering a cocktail,

“Mixed. One tiny drop strawberry first. THEN, the rest bubblegum.”

Also, Abram said to Dr. Chin as the team wheeled him in to Surgery yesterday, “Doctor, I’m so tired after last night, you’re not even going to NEED those anesthetics.”

Ever the definitive comedian:)

(Chemo Groucho. Chicago, 2015)

Peace, love, and happiness…

Posted
July 20, 2018
Category
Anxiety, Cancer, Compassion, Family, Fear, Grace, Gratitude, Growth, Happiness, harmony, Hope, Humor, J.K. Rowling, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Joy, Kindness, Lurie Children’s Hospital, Mothers, Parenting, Peace, Pediatric Brain Cancer, Perseverance, Positivity, Selflessness, Stress Reduction
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4 Responses

Protection Forever

“It is the nature of grace always to fill spaces that have been empty.”

-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I miss my mother every single day. At scary times when I try to conjure a sense of security around me as “Brave Mom,” I miss my mother extra.

Those who follow our story know how Abraham can sometimes make tough days seem like holidays. Today was one of those days.

Surgery was scheduled for 8:00 a.m., and we’d come up to Chicago a day early to enjoy the city.

Although the hotel was a comforting luxury, we both had a rough night sleeping so near Navy Pier. Fireworks were a thrilling bedtime story, but the continued pulse of hot rods, motorcycles, and 3:00 a.m. rogue fireworks (with a quick follow up of sirens that chased away said rogues) made our 6:15 hospital arrival a bit robotic. Luckily, Aunt Marg is a great driver and RoboMom is incredibly efficient; consequently, we arrived early.

We definitely weren’t robots for long. Every single worker we met from the minute we arrived at Lurie Children’s Hospital lifted us up today: smiling receptionists at the ready; security guards comfortingly on duty; an anesthesiologist who kinda looked like me and definitely shared my sense of humor; a successful on-time surgery; and a smooth recovery without complication.

I snapped a quick pre-surgery shot just as he was ready to roll…

I also shared the following update on Facebook as we waited for the anesthesia to wear off:

“Got it done! Apparently, Abraham was cracking jokes with the surgeon on the way in, and although he’s still a bit anesthesia-loopy, he has the sweet nurse smiling and feeding him a red popsicle. Plus, the hospital has new, improved, Looney Toons band-aids:)… Love and big gratitude, all 💛✨”

As soon as we were ready to leave, two candy-striper-age volunteers found a wheelchair quickly (no small feat) and easily escorted us downstairs -engaging Abraham with a true, sweet tale of his beloved neurosurgeon, Dr. DiPatri having been on “Cake Boss”. We can totally picture it!

Add in our 70-mile transit time plus a huge Rosatti’s carry-out order, and we were still safely home by noon!

So, everyone who sent us the happy feels today, we got them. Your energy wrapped us in a protective, loving grace and carried us through our day.

“Love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves it’s own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.”

J.K. Rowling

I am forever grateful.

Peace and love…

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