The Story Behind the Picture...

Pictured here is me and my three daughters, Jannelle, Jillana, and Julianne. 

With Christmas approaching, it’s not hard to be reminded of Christmases past. 1994 was one particularly special Christmas.

Christmas was on a Sunday so we opened gifts at the crack of dawn and then stopped what we were doing in order to get dressed for church.   I don’t remember if we took these pictures before or after church, but I guarantee one of the girls remembers.

What is most memorable about this Christmas is that just a few weeks earlier, I was so sick I wasn’t sure I would see this day --yet judging from this picture I was happy and healthy. I know that sounds a little melodramatic, but it’s true. I’d prepared myself for the possibility of my precious daughters growing up without me… yes as a mom, I was more worried about them than I was myself.

I started getting sick mid-September. We were living in a hotel while we were waiting for our houses to go to settlement. Our house in Florence SC was under contract as was the perfect-for-us-house we found in Charlotte. We decided to go on and move to Charlotte so that Michael could settle into the new job and the girls could settle into their new school. As summer break ended, we packed up the contents of the house, put everything into storage and moved to Charlotte. We began our new daily routine from Homewood Suites the night before school began. This was the start of Kindergarten for Jillana and for Jannelle First Grade. Michael left for work early most days, but sometimes he’d drop the girls off at school on his way.  Julie and I would start our routine which usually began with straightening up the suite so that housekeeping could come in and clean. After they left, we’d go out, to the mall, the post office, anywhere not to sit in that hotel all day. When Jannelle and Jillana’s school day ended we were usually already waiting at the school first in the car pool line. I recall this because one day, I didn’t do anything. “It” whatever it was hit me that suddenly. Extremely fatigued, I moved from the bed, to the couch and that was it.  The housekeeper commented a few days later when I finally got up the strength to partially resume my regular routine and allow him to come in and clean up, that he knew something was terribly wrong.   

I don’t remember when the fevers started, but I became aware of it shortly after we moved into the house. I never thought to take my temperature before that but when I did, it was consistently 99.4 for a few weeks everyday. Not enough to stop me, but definitely enough to slow me down from time to time.  I did as much as I could, unpacking the house, helping to pick out carpet, buying furniture. But always drained and exhausted.

The day the carpet was installed in the whole house I was laying on the floor in whichever room they weren’t working, That was the day I finally saw a doctor. New in town, I didn’t have a doctor, so it took a bit to get me in as a new patient. Now, my fever was consistently around 102º everyday, but no other symptoms except what you would expect with the fever… fatigue and headache.  My lymph nodes were so large they were visible.  Still, I kept living and doing as much as I could.  

Not wanting to deny my family a Thanksgiving dinner, we traveled to my sister Diane’s house in south Georgia. Michael drove us there and I laid on her couch the whole time. When we returned, it was back to figuring out why I was sick.

The Doctor reacted to my symptoms and blood work by sending me to an Oncologist ASAP. She called in a favor and had him meet me on a Saturday.

Ping-ponged between the Dr and the Oncologist, I was tested for everything. Honestly, I was disappointed with each negative test result. Negative meant more tests as we continued to seek answers. A positive result would at least mean some sort of game plan. They tested for everything from Cancer, Lupus, Mono,-- you name it, we tested for it.

Finally the Oncologist scheduled me for a CT Scan and hospitalized me overnight. I was still taking medicine for the fever on a daily basis, but the doctor decided not to give me Tylenol or Ibuprofen so see how high my fever would go while I was in the hospital.  Once it reached 104º the nurse medicated me and I slept. I was so weak and sick I really believed I was dying. I just didn’t know from what.

Miraculously that was the last fever. The next morning, they began filling me with the chalky dye liquid that displaced all other bodily fluids. I took the CT and rested. I went home that night.

It’s now early December. Another sister flew in from Texas to help out with the girls. Neicy taught Jannelle how to tie her shoes. It’s funny how little details like that still stick out. She fixed me food and made me eat it. I hadn’t had much of an appetite and subsequently hadn’t eaten much in three months. I gradually regained my strength and whatever it was went away.

By Christmas, I was still a little weak, but I had been fever free for almost three weeks and was on the mend. After three months of sickness and accepting the inevitability of my impending doom, I was celebrating each day on the planet. My life changed after that. My parenting changed too. Everything about life was new and exciting. I took life for granted no more. A week or so later, we found out that there were actually five of us in this photo, not counting the dolls of course.

*I'm writing this to emphasize the importance of telling our story. Fifty years from now, this will just be a cute picture that my children will show their children and so on and so on. Periodically go thru your photographs, or share stories of your life and lessons that you've learned with your children and grandchildren. Don't take for granted that the facts are known or will be remembered. Besides even if they remember, they won't remember it from YOUR perspective. YOUR story is important. 
Journaling has been helpful to me at different stages of my life and more than once I've been encouraged by my own words from the past. I'm writing a book of such stories... just thought you'd like to know that.  


So... it's all good. Still Choosing Joy, Jacki Marie