Knee Replacement Surgery and Pecan Resin Figurine Painting

13 Comments

KNEE REPLACEMENT SURGERY

Two years ago, I went through the required medical clearances, scheduled a tentative surgery date, and ended up backing out on a total right knee replacement.

Now, the pain levels hampers my ability to function on a day-to-day basis; and, I see the quality of  my life diminishing.

If I am really serious about living life to the fullest, I have to get this knee replacement. I refuse to chicken out a second time. As a daily reminder,  I posted a reminder on my bulletin board:

 

My Post-Surgery Distraction

In this season of life (74-years-young), I want to live, thrive and enjoy every moment including the post-surgical moments.  So, during the surgery recovery and rehabilitation period, I plan to:

  • finish painting a pecan resin African American Santa that has been on hold for more than two years: and

  • start and complete painting a pecan resin African-American Santa that I purchased more 20+ years ago.

Hopefully painting these two figurines will be a distraction from both the pain and stress of surgery.  It did just that, when I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis 20+ years ago.

In this season of life, I want to live, thrive and enjoy every moment including my post-surgical rehabilitation moments.

PAINTING PECAN RESIN FIGURINES

In 1993, shortly after  being diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, the eldest daughter gave me my first pecan resin figurine and a set of acrylic paints.  She felt a hobby would distract me from the pain.

I have no idea about the number of figurines painted and gifted to friends and family, but the few below are the only ones now in my possession.

Sorority Colors

African-American Church

 

Nine-Year Cancerversary Comments from Phyllis Holder, Founder Sisters4Cure

Leave a comment

The following remarks were prompted by yesterday’s post, “Nine-Year Cancerversary.”  It was  written by Phyllis Holder, my long-time breast cancer mentor and founder of Sisters4Cure.  I so appreciate and love this phenomenal woman who has inspired, uplifted and guided me throughout the journey.

img_4002

##########

God bless you Ms. Yvonne. I love you so much. I remember the gift basket I gave you when we first met. It was overflowing with encouragement, prayers for strength and lots of love.
I couldn’t believe that Pam (and the rest of your family) trusted me enough, to turn you over to me. Combining your journey with mine has given me one of life’s best rewards.
The poem I wrote for you. The courage you mounted on wings of prayer. And grace and mercy to stare down the type of breast cancer, triple negative, that 9 years ago we knew damn little about. Just that it killed black women. No need to add the most. In all things breast cancer, black women get the short stick.
God knows I rejoice in the extra time given by our Father who loves us dearly to you, me and every woman {and black man} we have prayed for and shared strategies with. Our Father who loves us dearly said live life to the fullest. The amount of extra time? We wake up gratefully one day at a time.
Happy Canceversary Yvonne Thomas! Salute! Keep smiling. Stay woke. And keep your feet on the path. Amen and amen.

Nine-Year Cancerversary: Living with Breast Cancer

21 Comments

On  a cold, snowy, early February morning,  in 2008, I noticed a large lump on the left breast.  My first thought was breast cancer.  I called the Eldest Daughter  and described the lump.  Using the voice I had grown accustomed to hearing after working in her medical practice for more than eight years, she calmly said, “breast cancer doesn’t usually present in this manner, but I will take a look before my first patient arrives.

Shortly after starting the exam,  she walked out without saying a word.  I waited on the exam table for about twenty minutes before I went looking for her.  I found her in my Youngest Daughter’s office.  She was talking on the phone and the Youngest Daughter was crying.

I asked the:

  • Eldest Daughter, “Why did you walk out in the middle of my exam?”
  • Youngest Daughter“Why are you crying?

Fear of the unknown best described how I felt when the Eldest Daughter said, “Mom, I just scheduled an appointment for you at the Women’s Health Center. I felt something unusual and want you to be evaluated there.”

The mammogram, ultra sound, biopsy, and needle biopsy all confirmed breast cancer.  On the first visit with my oncologist, I asked, “How is this possible? I just had a clean mammogram five months ago.”  I am not sure if he answered the question, but I clearly remember:

  • the diagnosis of Stage 1, Triple Negative Breast Cancer, and
  • him cautioning me to not search for answers on the internet.

Over the next eight months, I complied with the oncologist’s treatment plan; which included a lumpectomy; chemotherapy; radiation; and staying off the internet.

While in treatment, I connected with a local breast cancer advocacy and support group.  I am grateful to the women in this group as well as its founder and my mentor, Phyllis Holder.  They helped me to move from:

  • thinking of myself as a victim of breast cancer to
  • becoming an advocate for breast cancer awareness in the African-American community.

Even though miles separate me from the women in this group, I continue to support their programming efforts and it’s comforting to know that they are there for me..

Nine years later, in 2017, it’s a warm, sunny February afternoon in Orlando, Florida, I am:

  • cancer-free  with a loving family, supportive friends;
  • blessed with the gift of self-awareness and self-love; and
  •  worthy of living life to the fullest after my breast cancer diagnosis.

img_3956

 

 

 

I Need To Say This…

7 Comments

Today, as I perused my WordPress Reader, I came across this post and it touched upon that which clouds my mind with the election of #45 as America’s new leader.

scottishmomus

Donald Trump is an idiot.

Who constantly speaks in superlatives the way he does?

Who repeats almost every word and phrase as if talking to morons?

Who brags about themself the way he does?

Who justifies themself so much and contradicts themself so often?

Who lives in cloud cuckoo land and pretends it’s real?

If he’s not actually a two year old then he has to be an idiot.

America, for God’s sake, and ours, get a grip.

You have an idiot as a leader.

Or a two year old.

Neither of which is suitable to make decisions for a country.

I’m not being mean. Truly, I’m not.

I’ve taught for almost thirty years and I can honestly say, hand on heart, I’ve never come across the most backward child who couldn’t communicate more effectively. Even if it was only in pictures. Or they were mute and signed. They made…

View original post 400 more words