The Cost of the Mystery Bruise

So, I am now getting hospital bills rolling in from the whole mystery bruise/skin cancer experience in January...and it looks like our responsibility after insurance pays will be about $5,000 (we have a $5,000 deductible per person--don't get me started on that. Right before I was diagnosed, we had looked into paying for private insurance, but after doing the math, we'd end up paying about the same out of pocket with the monthly payments that would go along with a private plan that covers what we'd need, and I'm not even sure that I could find a private company that would insure me anymore).

At OHSU, they split the faculty bill and the hospital bill into two separate bills handled by (apparently) two separate offices. So now I'm trying to make payment arrangements with two separate offices and trying to explain our situation, which is that we can commit to X per month, and I understand that may or may not be what you require patients to pay, but that is all we can do.  We are budgeted to the penny--we know exactly where our money goes, and very little of it goes to "fun" or discretionary income that we can pull from. We know exactly how much we can pay each month and that is all we can do. Since Justin is in construction and his wage varies depending on the job, some months we may be able to do more, but we can't commit to that always.

Anyway, so far, I've only been able to leave voicemails that I'd like to make payment arrangements, so I've yet to talk to an actual person, but I'm dreading it. I understand that they provided a service for which they should be paid...for which we WANT to pay them....but seriously, you can't squeeze blood out of a turnip. I can commit to making a payment each month...but I'm guessing that I won't be able to commit to paying what they want me to pay (since they say in huge letters on the bill that payment in full is due within 30 days), and I'm kind of dreading that conversation.

I'm imagining that they may threaten to send us to collections if we can't pay what they want each month. I've heard different things about whether or not a hospital even can send you to collections if you're making a payment each month. I'd always heard that they couldn't send you to collections if you were paying something every month, but lately I've heard more and more stories to the contrary.

The only positive in this situation is that our ridiculous deductible has actually been met this year...which means that we could actually seriously talk about having baby #2 this year since the deductible wouldn't be an issue. Although, admittedly, there's not much of a timeline to make that happen. And I know it sounds a little crazy to be talking about having a baby in the face of all this, and I'll probably get a nasty anonymous comment saying "If you can't afford your medical bills, what makes you think you'll be able to afford another baby?!"

So to cut that off at the pass, I'd just like to say that it isn't that we can't afford the medical bills, it's just that there's a huge difference between an unexpected medical expense which the hospital expects to be paid in full within 30 days of being billed, and the extra expenses that go along with having a baby...which we'd have nine months to prepare for.

Also, it's really crazy to me that our responsibility is still $5000 even with insurance. I feel like it's a testament to the fact that something about the state of medical care in our country needs to be changed. I don't have the right answers, but I only know that it doesn't seem to be working right now.

Messy Mom Monday, Week 2

I'm back for another edition of Messy Mom Monday...and my house is still messier than I'd like, which I think will probably sufficiently describe it for the next 16+ years. Anyway, today I thought I'd focus not so much on the actual messiness of our house, but another way that moms can be a little bit messy--emotionally and/or mentally:

1) J and I drove over to the city where my parents live on Saturday because I had a photo shoot of a banquet scheduled. So, I got all my stuff together, dragged out a pair of slacks that sort-of fit, and had Justin drop me off....only to realize that the banquet is next Saturday. All our communication clearly states the 28th, but for some reason, I had it in my head that it was the 21st. So that was awkward, showing up to the venue and talking to the front desk person, who clearly thought I was a dumb blonde idiot. And I felt like an idiot. I don't know what I was thinking, but I'm just SO GLAD that I was a week early instead of a week late. Still, at least we got to eat dinner and visit with my fam!

2) I'm still a little bit of a mess regarding the whole mystery bruise experience. Even though they clearly told me that they successfully removed all the skin cancer, any time I have a stomach ache, or get a bruise, or notice that a softball scar I've had since middle school has a bit of a purple-ish tint to it, I still have a hard time not thinking that it's cancer and that I'm going to die. I know it doesn't make sense, but it's just kind of weird and hard to go from months and months of worrying and being terrified, to one day being fine and not having to think about it anymore.

3) I've disabled anonymous comments on this blog. I had been allowing them because my parents, Justin, and a few other real-life friends who don't have blogs of their own comment every once in awhile, and I like hearing from them. However, after I was left a mean and snarky anonymous comment on my last post about Lizzy, I realized that the vast majority of anonymous comments I receive are either spam, or some sort of snarky/mean comment. All my friends and family should still be able to comment through Open ID, so I just see no reason for allowing the anonymous comments any more. ETA--The Open ID thing is a bit trickier than I thought, so I've just decided to enable comment moderation instead, for the time being. We'll see how that goes!

I wish I could say that the mean or negative comments are easy for me to brush off, but they aren't always, even though the support from my husband and others who know us in real life should easily trump one nasty comment. I KNOW it wasn't that big of a deal, but it still hurts a little.. It makes me sad, because I pride myself on being honest here, sharing the good and bad, the messy and otherwise.

It also makes me sad that as far as I can tell from the stats (because even when you post anonymously, it isn't completely anonymous), this wasn't a troll--this was someone who reads and visits fairly regularly. It makes me sad that that person, didn't just sign in and comment something like, 'Hey, when you tell stories about Lizzy talking, do you translate or paraphrase what she's saying? It sounds like she's saying a lot more than most 2 year old kids I know,'...because that's a question I'd be happy to answer.

You don't have to be nice to me, though it does hurt my feelings when you're not. You don't have to agree with me, or with everything that I write. But the messy truth is that I think that if you can't even stand behind the negative remarks you make, you probably already know that you're in the wrong. I really try avoid stooping to the level of the mean comments, but the messy truth is that in my opinion, if you resort to being an anonymous snark, that makes you a sucky person. Or maybe just someone who has some emotional messes yourself. I don't know. But, I do know that I'm willing to admit that I just don't want to deal with the anonymous snark anymore, so I'm not going to.

Thanks for letting me be real--messiness and all :) Have some messes of your own? Link up at Living in the Moment or Dude and Sweets!

{More evidence that I'm a mess mentally sometimes? I definitely just wrote "Licking in the Moment" Heh.}

Thursday Thoughts

{one}

I get my stitches out today. FINALLY. They are driving me crazy. Starting yesterday, they started to itch terribly and are getting red and a little painful. Most people I've consulted said it looks like they're just ready to come out rather than that they're infected...I hope the doctor agrees!

{two}

I'm excited to hopefully get back to some real exercise soon. I've been walking on the treadmill with some regularity since I had the stitches, but after years of playing competitive sports, walking just doesn't feel like a "real" workout to me--which is probably something I need to get over. I know intuitively that it should just be about moving my body in some way every day, but I really love to feel that burn and exhaustion of really killing myself.

{three}

I'm starting to get the D&R itch (decorating & renovating for any non-nesties out there). First of all, I definitely want to paint the living room...a light blue sort of like this:

 

Source: remodelaholic.com via Meredith on Pinterest

Or maybe this, though the paint color may be a little bright in this one:

Source: houseofturquoise.com via Meredith on Pinterest 

I prefer Behr paint (or something that Behr will color match)--any suggestions? I also think I want to re-do our gallery wall to incorporate some floating shelves. My parents got us the most amazing wireless printer for Christmas, but it takes up a big portion of our computer desk (and even though it's wireless, the desk really is the best spot for it in our home). I was thinking that if we incorporated some shelves into our gallery wall, I might be able to find some cute hanging folders and/or boxes, they could help with the stray paper issue we're experiencing!

Source: centsationalgirl.com via Meredith on Pinterest

But as always...it's a juggle between all of the projects that I WANT to do (i.e. build a table, organize our spare room, organize the garage), and having the time and money to do them!

{four}

You may (or may not) have noticed that my blog was blacked out yesterday in protest against SOPA. You may be sick to death about hearing about SOPA (good--have you done something about it?), or you may be wondering why people online are having such a fit about a piece of legislation designed to stop online piracy. Here's the deal--the idea of stopping online piracy and copyright infringement is a good one. However, this particular piece of legislation is pretty poorly written with lots of holes, and the practical application for a good portion of the internet, including bloggers, is SCARY. I'm not suggesting that there shouldn't be a piece of legislation designed to combat piracy (in fact, there's been an alternative piece of legislation drawn up by my own Oregonian senator that, with some tweaks, might be a good alternative), I'm just suggesting that THIS particular piece of legislation is a bad one. This article "Everything you need to know about Congress' online piracy bills in one post" is an excellent recap.

Link up, over at Life of Love! 

{Hopefully} The Last Mystery Bruise Update

So, Justin and I headed up to Portland last Thursday for the Moh's Procedure to remove my weird mystery bruise/skin cancer. I think I mentioned before that I had been terrified that I'd get up to Portland and that they'd tell me that it was everywhere and that they were unable to achieve clear margins--I'm happy to report that was not the case. After two rounds of the procedure, they came out to tell me that they got it all, and then had the plastic surgery fellow come to stitch me back up. The procedure itself wasn't that bad at all--I was completely numb the whole time, and only felt one instance where they cauterized the wound. And the whole OHSU staff was just amazing and incredible.

Afterwards, we headed out to The Cheesecake Factory (thank you Sara!) for our celebratory lunch/dinner...and unfortunately, we were both so hungry and scarfed down the food so fast that the only photo that really turned out was this one:

Before The Cheesecake Factory, we stopped by Target--I usually start a new prayer journal/blessings journal at the beginning of each calendar year, but I hadn't gotten one yet for 2012. This felt like a good opportunity--my New Year's Eve. In the car, I told Justin that this has been something that I worried and feared about for so long...it almost doesn't feel like it's over. I have to keep reminding myself that I don't have to worry about it anymore.

Later that night, we went out to dinner with my aunt and uncle. I was still stuffed, but enjoyed some French Onion Soup and an apple cider with a shot of cinnamon rum. I hadn't read the instructions that told me not to drink for five days. Whoops.

Lizzy was doing great with my parents, so we made the decision to stay Friday night as well and head back Saturday morning. We stopped at the outlet malls on the way home as well as Rice Hill--I have to admit though that I wasn't as impressed with it as when I was younger. The prices are kind of outrageous now!

It was kind of a hard car ride home--I'm really sore. Even though the spot itself isn't that big, I'm sore from my shoulder to my waist. The doctor did say that they went pretty deep, so that may be part of it. This next photo shows my stitches, so if you puke at the sight of stuff like that (MOM), don't look!

I'm *still* really sore...and I'm not supposed to pick Lizzy up at all for a week, which should pretty much be impossible. Justin fell asleep on the couch this afternoon (Sunday), and I'm already feeling a little overwhelmed about the next week just based on the time that he's been asleep. I guess it just feels like now that we're home, we're jumping right back into everything, but I just don't feel physically ready to do that yet. I'm not ready for the night meetings and nights away from home for Justin--I'm not even sure how I'm going to hold up just during the DAYS while he's at work! At least Monday and Wednesday should be okay during the day--I watch Logan, which is a *blessing* because it means that Logan and Lizzy will play and (hopefully) I'll be able to rest a bit more. Still, it feels kinda obnoxious to be complaining about being sore, tired, or jealous that Justin is napping and I'm not--the major thing is that the skin cancer is gone!

One more little story--the night before the procedure, in my prayer journal I copied down the words to "Blessed Be Your Name" by Tree 63. It was my prayer that whatever the outcome, I'd still be able to claim in my heart that God is good. I sang the song in my head the whole time they did the procedure to calm myself down. And then today when I got to church? Guess what song we sang as our hymn of praise? Blessed Be Your Name. No one (not even Justin) knew that was the song that had been getting me through the last couple of days. Sure did feel like a God-thing to me...

Snippets

- The Ducks won the Rose Bowl for the first time since 1917 (I think) yesterday! Quack Quack! We had some friends and family over to watch the game, and I'm so glad we did. It was just a fun, stress-free day. And I so welcome staying busy this week, because it gives me less time to sit and let my mind wander to our trip to Portland at the end of the week.

-Speaking of the trip to Portland, I had a full-blown anxiety attack on New Year's Eve. It came out of nowhere. We were laying in bed, about to go to sleep, and all of a sudden, my heart was racing and I could hardly breathe. Suddenly, I was absolutely petrified that we'll get up to Portland for the procedure on Friday, and the doctor will tell me that my skin cancer is incredibly advanced, and that I'm like the one person in the world to which it has actually metastasized and that the prognosis is terrible. I have no reason to think this is the case...everything my doctor has told me has indicated and demonstrated that the exact opposite is true. And in my logical part of my brain, I know that. But the unknown is scary, and my brain starts following terrible trains of thought--You're already in an incredibly small percentage of people who have this type of skin cancer. What makes you think you won't be one of the small percentage of those for whom it is deadly?

It makes me mad. Mad that I'm spending the time worrying about it. Mad that I can't get the thought out of my head even though I KNOW worrying about it now won't do anything to prevent or change it if that is in fact the case. Logically, I *know* that it is pointless to worry until/unless I am explicitly given a reason to worry. But sometimes, it's hard not to be a little scared of the unknown. So, on New Years Eve, I just laid in bed singing songs in my head, and eventually fell asleep.

- Before the anxiety attack, the band spent New Year's Eve playing a concert for Celebrate Recovery. It was a ton of fun! Here's a video re-cap (shot with a point and shoot camera, so the quality isn't perfect). The first song in the mash-up is one of the ones that I sing in my head when I start to feel that fear/anxiety creep into my mind. It's called "Give Me Peace" and the chorus goes: Give me peace, I am weary with no rest. Give strength to my weary hands in this mess. Take a listen if you wish--in the second song of the mash-up, you can even hear J sing!




-In fun Portland news though, my former-sort-of-roommate Sara sent J and I a gift certificate for The Cheesecake Factory, which I am REALLY excited about! She and Lisa have been spoiling me rotten these past couple of months! Can you believe I've never eaten at The Cheesecake Factory before? What's good?

Week 2

Fear is sneaky.

It comes in unexpected places.

Like, the book that I have been on the waiting list for at the library for months, only to finally receive and realize that it's about a mother with cancer, who I'm getting the impression will die.

Or the episode of The Closer two weeks ago--which Justin and I sat down to watch eager for some relief after finding out that the diagnosis was in fact skin cancer, only to realize that a major sub-story in that particular episode was Brenda's father being diagnosed with thyroid cancer.

It's in writing my monthly Letter to Lizzy, and the brief thought that appeared out of nowhere, "I wonder if I started doing these because I would die when Lizzy is young. I wonder if these will be the only thing she remembers me by."

Or, it's in having a stomach ache, and wondering if I ate something that didn't agree with me, or if the cancer is just more advanced than they knew.

The trouble is, that once that fear is there...it can be hard to banish. But sometime last week, I decided that my fear is just not going to encroach on the joy that this time of year brings. I just will not allow myself to linger on it. Thankfully, I can usually count on sleep to help, and to feel calm when I wake. Immersing myself in fiction also helps. Consequently, I'm doing a lot more sleeping and reading than cleaning house or making dinner lately. Our house is a disaster, but the trade-off (my mental health) has been well worth it.

Also, last week, my dermatologist spent over a half an hour on the phone, answering every question and concern that I had. Thank GOD for her. I remember finishing the conversation with her, and just feeling confident and at peace...but how quickly that confidence can be shaken! Even later that same day, I found myself worrying and doubting again. I wrote my questions and her answers down while we were speaking, but I'm the type of person that learns by writing. So, I'm going to type up some of my questions and her answers here, just so that the knowledge can sink even further into my bones and my soul. Also, I hope it will answer some of the questions that have been asked by all of you!

Me: As far as going to Portland for the surgery, was it just that the local doctor doesn't handle this type of skin cancer and/or that the hospital there was just more familiar with it? Not necessarily that it is a bad type of cancer, but just that it needed to be addressed quickly?
Dr: A little of both--the local doctor couldn't get you in until March, and it just can't wait that long. Also, the local doctor wanted you to have the procedure in Portland because DFSP is sometimes an iceberg--it can be bigger than you might think initially. I've actually seen cases of huge DFSP tumors quite often because I trained at Mayo Clinic, and sometimes it can be no big deal, but you never know for sure until you get in there.

Me: Is there any reason to worry or suspect that I may have more of these DFSP's elsewhere?
Dr: No. These come singly. I've never seen a case with more than one at once. Occasionally, they may come back right where they were, but not in groupings.

Me: Because of the small size, is it your guess that it was caught early?
Dr: What I could feel felt small. What I cut out felt about the size of a lima bean. I didn't feel more beneath that that seemed like DFSP, but it can occasionally send out tendrils, and the cancer cells were close to the edges of what I cut out, which is why we need to do the Moh's procedure, to make sure it is all gone.

Me: Are there any follow-ups to make sure that the clear margins were achieved with the Moh's procedure?
Dr: You'll come back every 4-6 months for several years. I have had a patient who had a recurrence of DFSP--she I could both feel it right away in her skin exam. You can usually see or feel recurrences. Moh's procedure gives the best protection against recurrence.

Me: So just to confirm, the prognosis is good?
Dr: Yes, as long as it is taken care of quickly.

Me: Before we found out about the DFSP, we had been talking about possibly having more kids. That's off the table for now, but would you be able to let us know when that's something that we could start discussing again?
Dr: As far as I'm concerned, you could be trying now. I don't think there would be any reason to worry if you became pregnant--it wouldn't affect your treatment, and the DFSP wouldn't affect a pregnancy.

The pregnancy talk is still tabled for the moment--I would just feel better waiting for now. At least until Portland is done. But, my doctor's comments that she would have no problem okaying us to start trying is helpful to me in putting this all into context. She must really consider the prognosis to be good if she was ready to okay trying to conceive.

Thank you guys so much for your thoughts, prayers, and encouragement. It means so much.

Aftermath.

I had a complete ugly-cry breakdown on Tuesday afternoon. I was at a birthday breakfast for two of my sisters-in-law Tuesday morning when I got a call that the local surgeon does not handle this type of skin cancer and that I would have to go to Portland for the procedure (it's scheduled for January 6th).

It felt like nothing was going right...and if nothing was going right now, how could it possibly be okay in the end?! I freaked.

I think that one of the things that was helping me stay relatively calm was being able to tell myself that it was just a basic in-office procedure that could be done here locally, and no big deal. I'd be home in my own bed that night. But then when I was told it had to be in Portland, suddenly we were talking cancer centers, big teaching hospitals, making arrangements to leave Lizzy overnight (which we haven't done yet), arranging for Justin to get time off work--unpaid, as his work no longer gives vacation or sick time. It meant being given info for patient advocates, The American Cancer Society, and places that give assistance for medical-related travel expenses. It meant calling places and saying, "Hi, I'm Meredith, and I have an extremely unusual form of skin cancer and I need to _______." It meant letters from my dermatologist, which she said were meant not to freak me out but to allow for maximum assistance from some local nonprofits that assist with out of town medical expenses (though, I'm not sure I should read the letters at all, because I have no doubt that they will, indeed, just freak me out). It just felt like it became so much bigger in a matter of minutes, if that makes any sense.

[I can see now that since this is a rare form of skin cancer, it's probably better that I'm in a larger city, with a larger hospital, and doctors who have more experience with looking at this specific type of cancer, since the key part of the procedure is making sure that none of the cancer cells remain. I didn't see it then though!]

Because of the nature of where I received the call about having to go up to Portland, it also meant explaining the whole situation over and over again, which was a little hard for me. I know it was simply because my friends and family care about me and wanted to know what was going on. But saying it out loud is still hard. I don't like to breakdown in public, and I don't always trust my emotions with this yet. Then, over the course of the day, a few well-intentioned people voiced concerns and statements like, "How do they know that this cancer isn't everywhere already?" I can understand the heart behind those statements, but at the time, they just freaked me out even more.

And I feel kind of crappy even mentioning this, but I was also overwhelmed with offers to help--cooking meals, watching Lizzy, everything. Normally, this would definitely be a good thing, but I was already so overloaded with information that it just didn't feel like the good kind of overwhelmed at the time. I felt like I couldn't make any decision at all, and the idea of possibly hurting anyone's feelings by saying 'Thanks, but we've already got that covered,' just sent me over the top. Like I said, I feel a little terrible for even writing this, because obviously having more help than needed is a great problem to have, and I'm so thankful for my family and friends. I'm at the point now where I *truly* appreciate all the offers to help...and to all my friends and family--I'm sorry if I didn't seem to be appreciative at the time. I was just overwhelmed with information at that point, and didn't know how to handle it all.

And then on the way home, I felt like every song on the radio was of the I-can't-wait-to-be-in-heaven variety, and I found myself shouting "No! I DO NOT want to be in heaven right now!!' at inanimate objects in the car. I'm sure Lizzy must have thought I'd lost my marbles.

In a way, I guess I had.

I called Justin and told him that I was bringing him Taco Bell for lunch. The day called for fake nacho cheese, you know? Justin is a wise man and sweet husband, and said okay even though he had packed himself a lunch, and it wasn't exactly in the budget. Once I got there, I cried so hard I fogged up all the windows. Asking silly questions that felt so big in my mind at the time, like 'I thought we'd have Lizzy's birthday party that weekend--when will we have it now and what if I don't feel up to throwing a party?'

Justin was great. He listened. And then he laid out a plan for what we'll do--which was exactly what I needed at a time. I needed someone to delegate for me. He told me about the quiet car ride we'll have with adult music. That it can be a fun(ish) weekend away instead of just a trip for the procedure. Maybe I'll even be able to convince him to eat at Cafe Yumm ;)

Then, I went home and had an afternoon in my pajamas browsing Pinterest (thank you Dad for the router that makes Pinterest browsing possible!).

I say all this because I think it's important to be clear that however the last few posts may have come across, I'm not without worry or fear about all this. The worry and fear come sneaking up, especially at night. However, the worries don't feel as all-consuming as they have. I'm trying not to dwell on them as I have in the past--I'm trying to nip them in the bud. Pray about them. Surrender them. And then move past them. But let me be clear--I don't do it right all the time. Not even close.

I'm doing okay again now. Feeling more positive, but a little frustrated to not know more--the nurse from Portland acknowledged that this is often the case with patients who have the more rare forms of skin cancer because their local dermatologist often doesn't know a ton about it other than that the patient needs to be referred to Portland. And since we're out of town, we don't sit down and talk with the doctor ahead of time--that all happens on the day of the surgery (though she did assure me that I can always call if I have more questions). For now though, sometimes it's a little hard to balance what my dermatologist has told me (essentially that this is NOT a big deal) with some of the stories and info that I initially read online. Does my doctor really know what she's talking about? But then again, how do I even know that the stories I initially read online are accurate and/or reflective of my situation?

It's a little hard, sometimes. Everyone tells me that they are sure that I'll be fine...but they were all also sure that it wasn't cancer in the first place, so...

No. I need to stop thinking that way. It's a logical fallacy, and I know it. Don't ask me which one, because it's been far too long since I've taken AP Comp.

I think I've also decided that I'm going to try to limit writing about this on the blog to no more than once a week, if at all possible. I'm kind of tired of writing about it, just as I'm sure you're all tired of reading about it. I know that sometimes I'll need to get things out and just vent, but I also don't want my blog to become a place where I can drown myself in worries and obsessive thoughts. I need a balance. And, I need to force myself to do and write about other things too.

Tomorrow? I'm writing about Outlander :)

Love Came Down: (In)spired Deals Review & Giveaway!

Yesterday was shaping up to be a really bad day.

Let's just be real here--getting a call that I have skin cancer (I still can't really believe that I'm even typing that) was not the highlight of my year, even in light of the fact that I have experienced a remarkable amount of peace about the whole situation or the fact that the prognosis is incredible. It's still just not a great experience.

Within an hour of receiving the call from the dermatologist, the FedEx man knocked on my door...with a huge box from DaySpring and (in)courage. Words cannot even begin to describe what a blessing it was to me that this box arrived at the precise moment it did. For the blessing of a gentle reminder that love came down, for me.

Inside, was the absolutely stunning Star Tea Light Holder:

I could probably write paragraphs upon paragraphs about the understated, simple beauty of this tea light holder, but I think the pictures can probably do it more justice than I could.

First side:

Second Side:

Really, could the stain be any more perfect? It's the perfect distressed, reclaimed wood look.
And if that weren't enough, they tossed in some coffee mugs, also from the Love Came Down line.



Really, there are just no words to adequately describe this gift that I have been given--these visual reminders that God is with me, always. Even now, even through this. It is a tremendous blessing to me to be able to have these ever-present reminders to see daily, early each morning as I shuffle to the kitchen to start my day with coffee.

Even better? DaySpring and (in)courage are allowing me to bless one of you with a $20 shop credit. And guys, there are some amazing things on clearance over at the DaySpring shop. Like these:

Bless This Home Wall Art-$15

Everyday Joy Gift Set-$19.99

Jesus is the Gift Platter- $6.25

To enter, simply leave a comment on this post. The giveaway will be open until Tuesday December 20th at 7am PST. For the love of all things good, please make sure that there's an email address attached to the account you use to enter, or that you leave some way for me to contact you in the event that you win! Good luck!

Fine Print and Disclosure Statement: The winner will have seven days to respond to my email. If I haven't heard back within seven calendar days, I'll pick a new winner. Winner will be responsible for paying their own postage. In addition, the coupon code will not activate unless the total in the cart meets or exceeds $20. I received both the Star Tea Light Holder and the mugs at no cost to me, for the purpose of review. I was not compensated for the review itself, and all opinions are my own, as always.

So.

First of all, thank you all for your thoughts and prayers through this whole "mystery bruise" ordeal. I so appreciate all your words of encouragement.

So. The dermatologist called this afternoon and told me that the "mystery bruise" is actually the weird form of skin cancer (DFSP I think). Again, she told me that I don't need to worry--that this type of skin cancer does not spread anywhere else, but that it can grow pretty aggressively where it's at, so they will need to do something called a Moh's Procedure to make sure that she got every last bit. Basically, with this procedure, they remove a layer of skin at a time, test it, and then continue until there's no trace of the DFSP.

She also told me that most times, DFSP's aren't found until they are like grapefruit sized. Mine was like dime sized, so it was very small, which is great.

So now, the issue is that there are apparently only two people in Oregon who do the Moh's Procedure--one locally and one up on Portland. My derm is now trying to convince the local guy to clear a space for me in the next six weeks or so...otherwise we will have to drive up to Portland and stay for a few days, which would be doable, but just another extra expense that we don't need right now!

I'm actually not freaking out that much--not at all really. I'm just hoping they can get me in soon for the Moh's Procedure. I'm sure the worry will probably come, but right now I feel pretty at peace, and for that I'm thankful.

But in terms of good news, the local radio station called and I'm one of 100 qualIfiers for their huge $3,500 winter contest. I'm supposed to go in Thursday to find out if I won! I don't have high hopes since I just don't win things, but wouldn't it be awesome if I did?!

ALSO, I just got the most amazing package from Dayspring that I cannot *wait* to show you guys!