How my Gratitude Bell Became A Reality
Grab a cup of tea. It’s a long read… Here’s the story of the inception of my bell…
“Tricia’s Gratitude Bell”.
my food
my activities
my mindset
my attitudes and my purposes are all for me to decide how, who and what to do with as I want to. I didn’t and can’t choose the diagnosis, but I can and will choose how I handle myself and what legacy I leave for my adoring husband, parents, sisters, adult children, grandchildren, nieces and nephew, cousins and friends. Neighbors and strangers may even come across my little story in my blog and if that’s how God wants to use my story then I’m willing to be an open book about what He is doing in my thoughts, my spirit and my body. Maybe someone else who is just as regular as me will feel a connection and know that they aren’t alone in this. They, too, can face their situation knowing they have a choice in how they step into their struggle in this life. For me I couldn’t imagine walking this out without God’s perspective and without deep gratitude in all the little things.
I started a blog about my breast cancer starting in 2016, then picked it back up in 2022 when I was re-diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer.
So if my cancer journey touches you, then I am grateful knowing it has reached you and I hope it serves you in one way only, to draw you closer to our Creator and know that someday soon this temporal will end and the eternal will begin and I want to experience the best of both of those worlds. It is up to me how I navigate my mind in all this. I’m not a victim of any of it, but I am in a situation that I get to decide on how I wear the mantle of cancer and what I do with it until I’m done here.
My story of hearing the initial diagnosis that I had stage 2B breast cancer started May 10, 2016. My blog, triciawonderly.blogspot.com, details it all so no need to repeat all that. Suffice it to say that I had the 5 months of dreaded chemo
elected for a lumpectomy and lymph node dissection surgery
and allowed the 35 radiation treatments to be subjected to my 49-50 year old body. In fact, on my 50th birthday I even went to the “Chemo Salon” for a treatment. “
“One year of my life”, is what I was told that this treatment would take from me. I acquiesced to the treatment, hoping and trusting in the process of drugs, surgeries and radiation.
I recall meeting a lady named Jen when getting chemo. She was in her 30’s and discovered she had stage 4 breast cancer after delivering her newborn daughter and thought she had a blocked milk duct. I’ll never forget the day we met and I ignorantly asked her when her chemo would be done. She explained that it would never end. When patients are stage 4, they have treatment for the rest of their lives! I remember thinking how tragic that was for her and I said in my mind, “God, please never let that be me!”
Then came THE day in November 2016 when my chemo treatments were finished. My last chemo. Following that I had my last surgery. And in March of 2017 I had my last radiation! And I rang THE bell.
It’s that brass bell that sits outside every chemo and radiation center waiting for that special day when treatment is completed and life can hopefully carry on more normally. I was finished and truly believed that I’d never have to deal with that again. So much so that I surgically had my port removed. All I needed to do was take a little white pill every day for the next 10 years and I’d be fine, they said.
To ring that bell was what I’d been looking forward to for months and it finally came, so I rang it with confidence and a huge relief.
Then 2022 came and I had a cough that wasn’t going away. I didn’t feel sick with fever or have a stuffy nose, so I wasn’t sure why after a couple weeks it still lingered. I finally made an appointment with my PCP and he suggested a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia, but I declined initially because I didn’t want more radiation. He then recommended Albuterol but that did nothing either after a week of use. Suffice it to say that within a couple days I went from the mindset that I had a minor irritating cough to discovering it was stage 4 metastatic breast cancer in my lungs, lymph nodes, bones and liver! I had to suddenly stop working as a dental hygienist and at this point my life took a most unexpected and unwelcomed turn. My breathing worsened in the next two weeks even more and I ended up on oxygen just to walk 15 feet into the next room.
The family came from three different states and my son who lives in China even surprised me to visit for Mother’s Day. My precious Mother’s Day was beautiful, but the unspoken was palpable.
This would likely be my last one based on my physical condition unless a miracle happened. It wasn’t looking good and everyone knew it. My lungs were flooded with cancer cells clogging the lymph channels. My breast had yet another tumor, and my spine and pelvis had numerous cancerous lesions. Even one of the marble-sized lymph nodes on my collar bone was big enough that I could personally feel it!
To my great shock and dismay, I became THAT person in the chemo salon who would now be telling those who asked me when I would be done, that I would never, ever finish my treatment. I would have it every three weeks for the rest of my life until I was dead. Like Jen.
I wasn’t even eligible for radiation other than for palliative localized pain. And it wasn’t worth doing surgery. So I will never have the joy of ringing THE bell again. My treatment has no end to look forward to.
Now over one year later the shock of the diagnosis in my life has normalized and my every three week treatments are routine. Miraculously, my breathing improved to a point where I can take a full breath again! Now that the chemo part of my treatments is over, the infusion medications I still take have minimal side effects, unlike the aggressive ones I had in 2016.
Being bald never was bothersome for me either time and nausea was not unmanageable this time around either. My hair is growing back and I am living my life as normally as possible despite the terminal diagnosis. Sadly, I can’t return to work because of the aerosols produced in the dental setting. That would be foolish considering my lungs were once filled with cancer cells and now there’s scar tissue that will never go away in them.
However, I am so grateful. And from the beginning of this second round of cancer I’ve had two songs recommended to me by friends Brooklyn and Katie that have been my anthem and my motto. Gratitude by Brandon Lake and Million Little Miracles by Elevation Worship have been the daily songs in my head to offer me a reminder of the choices I have before me today.
Admittedly, I’ve had it easy. I have a strong faith. I feel physically well. I’m secure in all my relationships. I have an amazing oncologist. I naturally have a positive attitude. I can afford my insurance and supplements. I live life to the fullest. I’ve met my top goals of surviving until my first grandchild was born, making it to my 10 year wedding anniversary and riding my mountain bike again. I’m setting new goals and work hard towards meeting them. And in the midst of all that, I still arrange my life to travel to Columbus, Ohio every three weeks for my infusion treatments at the Stephanie Spielman Comprehensive Breast Cancer Center and will continue to do so forever.
And yet, every time I walk into the chemo salon, I still see THE bell. It’s known by every cancer patient that that’s there for those who complete their last treatment. It’s a celebration for them. It’s a relief, an exhale. It’s a sacred moment that they deserve and a moment to be reserved and special for that person. It’s that final day they’ve waited for. They made it! A time to ring the bell! THEIR bell.
And yet, I walk past it every three weeks knowing it’s not for me not now, nor ever again. It actually serves as a dreaded reminder that I’ll never ring it. I’m terminal. Even if THE bell was redefined, as some cancer centers have tried to do… for me I know that’s just an accommodation for those of us who aren’t supposed to ring it. But I knew its wonderful intent at one time and I experienced its joy in 2016 and it should remain a joy-filled, celebratory experience!! But no matter how it gets redefined, I’ll personally never choose to ring that bell. By making it for everyone, for anything, it not only dilutes it for the ones for whom it was originally intended, but sadly it serves as a negative reminder to the stage 4 folks. At least that’s what it does for me.
And that’s what got me thinking about how that might make others with Stage 4 Cancer feel when they see THE brass bell or hear someone else ring it as they complete their treatment.
It might not be signaling the end of treatment, but there is something every stage 4 patient can claim and hold on to no matter the type of cancer, the treatment plan, the way they physically are responding or not responding to treatment or how they feel. And that’s Gratitude.
Gratitude that they made it to another day. Another treatment. Gratitude that no matter how long we have left on this earth, we have the choice to be grateful for the million little miracles all around us if we have eyes to see. “The sun rose today!” “I’m alive today!” “I completed another treatment today!” I could go on and on. Each stage 4 person gets to choose for themselves what they’re grateful for and proclaim it with a bell, our own bell, a Gratitude Bell for all stage 4 patients.
Sure…anyone can be grateful for numerous things in their lives, but this sonorous bell has a richer, deeper meaning than gratitude just anyone can have. This is designed and created for those who have heard the words, “You have stage 4 cancer”.
And this idea of a stage 4 Gratitude Bell came to me on my one year anniversary from my stage 4 diagnosis immediately following an infusion when I went to my local mountain bike trail and rode the freshly groomed trails for the first time by myself this spring. On one of the trails there was a new addition to what I call trail art. There was a decorated child’s bike wheel hanging in a tree branch proximal to the path where one rides and dangling from it was a little jingle bell placed strategically so the rider passing by can tap it and ring it!! So I did!!
At that very moment, the elation it brought me formed the idea that we needed our own bell! The rest of my ride was swirling with creativity of how I could make this a reality. I wanted EVERY stage 4 person to have a special and unique bell that could offer the joy of ringing a bell to announce their gratitude to themselves or the people around them that they chose to be grateful today!
And so today I want to share the idea of what I hope to be the first of many Stage 4 Gratitude Bells. This is selfishly for me and unselfishly, I’d love to share it with others. The dream is to see these Gratitude Bells in every infusion center around the world.
Additionally, I hope these Gratitude Bells will be in every garden or home of individuals who have stage 4 cancer or know someone who does.
These bells are now available for all of us! It’s a reminder every day that we can choose gratitude in something, anything even if we have a stage 4 diagnosis. I’d like to make a small difference in the world, one that offers a reminder of our choice to choose gratitude! This Gratitude Bell is for all of us!
Anyone is welcome to reach out to me and share your story and why you are interested in a Gratitude Bell by emailing me at:
triciasgratitudebell@gmail.com
If you are reading this and would like to know how to order a Tricia’s Gratitude Bell, please go to Bevin Bells and search for it then let me know all about it by emailing me. I’d love to share your story too.
Comments
Post a Comment