A Legacy to Die For

I'm sitting here and I should really be in bed by now. Lexi has to be at the hospital by 5:45 am for surgery number two . She's not even 15 yet and this is her second go-round with having fibroid adenomas removed. I promise you, this was not the legacy I wanted to leave my daughter.

Since she found her first lump over a year ago, I have been a nervous wreck. Can you imagine being a six-year breast cancer survivor, living with the possibility that you could hand that nice little package down to your baby girl? That has been my reality since December 17, 2010. Last year my reality almost became a nightmare. That was when she found her first lump. I walked around numb and on the verge of tears for over a week while waiting for an appointment and some answers.

By the grace of God, it turned out benign, NOT cancerous. We both shared a hug, a few tears, and a heavy sigh of relief. Her diagnosis was not a death sentence and we were grateful. She was assigned to come in for ultrasounds every six months in order to keep tabs on their growth and development. Lo and behold, It was shortly after her first ultrasound that she found mass number two. It had grown exponentially since our last visit to the radiologist and our standing appointment needed to be pushed up...STAT!

So here we are again, just over a year since the first surgery. My biggest concerns are: 1. Are her fibroids going to keep growing at this rate that requires us to have surgery every year? 2. At what point will it ever end? When will enough be enough? 3. Will a mastectomy be her ultimate fate or is does it present the possibility that years of these abnormal cells cohabitating in her body ay turn to something life-threatening.

I sit here watching her sleep, quietly praying that she receives a clean bill of health, that the fibroid adenomas disappear, and that my baby girl can just go back to being a kid for the few years she has left until she is forced with the burden of adulthood.

A BUMP IN THE ROAD

 

 

For a survivor, the threat of cancer is something that ALWAYS lingers, even after treatment. I am reminded of it daily through the struggles of others. From my high school friend Patty, who passed away after her second bout with the disease to my dear friend who just finished treatment after having her breast cancer rear it's ugly head for the second time as well. Each person who has dealt with cancer is effected in different ways, having multiple ranges of emotions from one end of the spectrum to another. However YOU deal with the devastation of the disease is your reality.

 

I remember when I finished six months of radiation and two and a half months of chemo and had to go for my final visit to my medical oncologist for post-treatment examination. We talked about the treatment, it's effects, and how I was feeling. He did a quick physical examination. Told me I had the all clear and released me to go on my merry way. I was more than glad to be finished with the toxic chemicals and radiation but was somewhat taken aback that he didn't request I come back periodically for scans and labs just as a precautionary measure. Honestly, I was down right nervous about being just turned away into the cold, post-cancer world to fend for myself. I thought, What happens if it comes back? How will I know before it's too late?

 

Now fast-forward to a text I received from my friend two days ago, who was devastated because she was told her cancer was in remission (meaning the treatment worked) and had to return to the doctor in three months. Devastated because she wasn't told she was cancer free and devastated she had to return. We were essentially told the same thing but our perceptions were totally different. Rightfully so because for her, she has a strong family history of cancer and because this was her second encounter with the disease. This certainly changed my perspective about how I felt about being medically 'released' into the world. Needless to say I won't whine about that anymore.

 

Now, let's fast-forward to tonight, as I am laying in the bed watching TV and get a weird sensation under my arm. I go to scratch and realize there is a lump there. It's small, kind of close to the surface, and slightly tender. It could very well be an ingrown hair or some other simple irritation. But guess what, that's not my reality. My very first thought is What if the cancer is back? I'm trying not to think about it, but how can I? The fear is very real. So now I will call my doctor first thing in the morning and schedule and appointment to be seen. Meanwhile, while I'm doing water aerobics, I'll be thinking about it. While I'm eating, I'll be thinking about it. And tonight, while I'm sleeping, I'll be dreaming about it. Until my doctor appointment, cancer is my reality. Here's to just another bump in the road.

Cups Half Empty

It's been awhile since my last post and I've challenged myself to do a post each month. Although the melodramatic era of my cancer is over, and has been for a while, there are always challenges you face on a regular basis. I have quickly learned that cancer is the gift that keeps on giving. Whether it be my lymphedema-swollen upper left quadrant (which I have had to go back for treatment on), the less-than normal "breast" (and I use that term loosely) exams I have to have every 3-6 months, the ankle swelling, the constant coldness of my hands and feet, blah.blah.blah......

 

Lately, I have noticed myself grieving the loss of my cleavage. I MISS MY BREASTS. It's not something new. I've experienced this feeling before, but this time the feeling has lingered. Maybe it's because, as I am planning for my wedding, the dress I am dying to wear would require a strapless bra. I can't support that....LITERALLY!! Maybe it's because of the way my prostheses float abnormally in my swimsuit, at times, during water aerobics, threatening to suffocate me. Maybe it's because mastectomy bras are basically unappealing. Or maybe it's because I often have to wear camis or tank tops under certain shirts to keep my lack of cleavage from being noticeable. Whatever the reason, it's cause for concern.

 

I could have kept one breast but I have a 'thing' for symmetry and the idea of one boob 'flopping' around is rather unappealing. Besides, there was a likely chance it might have killed me anyway. *shoulder shrug*

 

I have my moments.

 

Now, with all of that being said, I am STILL glad to be in the land of the living, no breasts and all! I could have easily not been a survivor but God saw differently and for that, I am eternally grateful. We could spend countless hours complaining about the would've, could've, and should've in our lives but what would be the gain? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

 

No  more complaints.

 

I thank God that I am able to watch my children grow up, for blessing me with a mate that loves me in ways I never thought imaginable, and for giving me a grateful spirit and the strength to have endured it all. Now,  I'm going to go put a little extra stuffing in my bra and KEEP IT MOVING!

 

 



Happy Cancer-versary: The Survivor Series

Well, I have reached yet another milestone in this journey called life. As of December 17th I have officially become a two-year survivor of cancer. Many of you know this has been an experience with many twists and turns. There have been some ups and downs, but through it all I made it, and for that I am thankful. I could go on and on telling you how grateful I am and how blessed I have been even through the hardship and trials, but today I want to dedicate this blog entry to my friend, Patty Murphy.

 

Patty and I attended duPont Manual High School/Youth Performing Arts School together and became fast friends as we shared two hours a day together in the Concert Band and Wind Ensemble. We shared plenty of laughs. But as most of us do, we lost touch after graduation. Not so long ago we were reunited through Facebook. We spent a bit of time reminiscing about the fun we had, telling funny stories of Mr. Bischoff (our band director), and catching up on what was going on in our lives today. It was then I learned she was a breast cancer survivor.

 

Fast forward a couple of years to my diagnosis....

I had so many questions about things that came to mind AFTER leaving the doctor's office and at random points before, during, and after my surgery I would go to her for answers and advice. She had a very positive outlook and was very optimistic in our conversations. She had just finished her journey and I was only beginning mine. She shared her blog with me at CaringBridge and through her words and her blog she helped me to cope.

 

As I ended my extensive regimen of treatment, Patty was, once again, diagnosed with cancer. After a two year hiatus, the cancer had returned and metastasized to her liver and spine. She was disheartened to say the least but still the fighter she had always been. Well, about a week ago, she lost the battle. I was numb. This could have easily been me. So today I am not going to honor those survivors but, instead, those soldiers who lost the race.

 

She fought the good fight and although cancer may have taken her body, her spirit still lingers. So, today I honor you, Patty, for your courage, your commitment, your laughter in spite of the pain, and your caring soul. Yet another angel has gotten her wings.

 



IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE

I knew I wanted to do an entry as a kick-off to Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I struggled a bit with what to write, but here I am. I've been contemplating what this entry would be about for a few days since it has been a long while since I blogged, and during that time LIFE has happened to me.

Looking back over the past few years and reflecting on the journey, I must say it has been long and hard. There have been many ups and downs, too numerous to count and I'll  be the first to admit that being strong isn't all that is it cracked up to be. To be down right honest with you, at this very moment I'd just like to lay down, have a good cry, wallow in my own self pity for spell and just watch life roll on by. I deserve it. Fortunately and unfortunately, that option isn't open to me. Even in these darkest of moments I must push through, otherwise the enormity of it all will consume me.

 

Some people would tend to think the worst is over and it's smooth sailing from here. The truth is: The worst IS over. MY reality is: The sailing is not so smooth. I still suffer from aftershocks. I still get sick to my stomach everyday when I take my meds and I hate having to take so many pills for conditions I never had before cancer struck. I continue to suffer from fatigue and the only reason I'm up this late is because the lymphedema has my arm so swollen tonight that it hurts when I lay down. So, if I sound bitter, it's because I AM. I miss my life B.C. (before cancer).

 

With all of that being said, through my experiences and encounters with others since my diagnosis, I have learned that it was destined for me to have had this disease.  I can't even begin to tell you how many times people have called, texted, inboxed, or stopped me with stories of how my blog and my experience has helped or effected them in some way. So much so, that at times my spirit has been overwhelmed with the response I have gotten. I feel blessed to be a blessing to others. My cancer has not been in vain, it is part of my purpose. The BIGGER picture.

 

Yes, it has been a 'hard knock life'. One that would have been so much easier without cancer, but maybe not as rich. We must learn to take the good with the bad and find a purpose for it ALL. So, even though there are days I want to just scream and shout and cry (sometimes I do when I am alone). Those are the days I have to take two steps back and look at the bigger picture. My cancer isn't just about ME. Many have taken the same journey and some didn't live to tell their story. I did.....and for that I am THANKFUL.

 

Ephesians 2:8 (KJV)

For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:

 

 



Goodbye Old Friend

During this cancer journey I have suffered many losses, most notably, my breasts. Now I must bid a fond farewell once again. Tomorrow, June 19th, I will be having a hysterectomy and it is with a saddened heart that I say goodbye. 

If I'm being honest, I must admit that I'm not really sad. As a matter of fact, I'm quite ecstatic about having it done. I actually requested the procedure. My breast cancer tested positive for the HER2 protein which promotes the growth of the cancer cells making it very aggressive. That growth is stimulated even further by estrogen. With that being said, anything in my body that produces estrogen I want OUT. In conjunction with the bilateral mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation, it lessens the chances of recurrence even further.

However, my female parts and I have been through a lot together. We've had some good times and some bad times. When I wanted to start a family she was very contrary. The doctors said I wouldn't be able to have children because of my poly cystic ovarian syndrome. Then, miraculously, she gave me two beautiful babies. She's been battered and bruised (Get your mind out of the gutter - I meant by pregnancies and c-sections) but she has served her purpose. I will miss her but our time together has run its course. My uterus would have to have the last laugh though by starting a period two days before surgery!!

I'm so glad we had this time together

Just to have a laugh or sing a song

Seems we just get started and before you know it

Comes the time we have to say so long

~Carol Burnett~

A Dream Deferred

A DREAM DEFERRED
by
Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.Or does it explode? 

For a long time, the idea of me feeling normal again was a distant dream. I had gotten so used to the aches, pains, fatigue, and other symptoms that came along with my disease and subsequent treatment. Through the chemotherapy, which wreaked havoc on my entire body, inside and out to radiation which was very tolerable until the end, I have experienced a wide range of conditions and variety of symptoms.

I was never as glad as I was when I had taken my last treatment and felt overly-excited about returning to my 'normal' self again. Now, I heard from other survivors stories about how you never fully recuperate and how the smallest illness , like a cold, could wipe you out for weeks. I would especially hear of these tales when I would mention how tired I often was. Well, my last treatment had come and gone and I was anxiously awaiting my 'normal' feeling to return. It never did. I still woke up with horrible headaches, felt tired to the point of distraction, and still held onto the occasional body ache. Trying to sustain energy and focus for my classroom full of twenty-three rambunctious first and second-graders was almost impossible, to say the least.

As the days went by, my fatigue became markedly increased, to the point where if I sat still for any length of time I would nod. Now, when I say nod, I don't mean the slow blinks that precede a slight bobbing of the head. A nod for me was a sudden neck spasm that marked me waking up and not even realizing I had fallen asleep. Unfortunately, I most often noticed this on my rides to and from work...and it was SCARY!

I began to think that maybe what others, mainly my treatment nurses who often witnessed my sleeping habits while in their care, were saying about the possibility of me having sleep apnea wasn't as far fetched as I had originally thought. In my quest to find out what was wrong with me I scheduled a sleep study. After I arrived at the hospital to be wired and tested the technician explained the process. It was a two-part study. The first night you would be wired up and monitored in an effort to see if and how often your breathing was disrupted during the night and to also monitor the oxygen levels in your body during sleep. If it was discovered you had sleep apnea then you would come back a second night and get wired up and hooked to a breathing machine to determine how your body would respond to the treatment.

Now that you know how it's supposed to go, let me tell you how my sleep study went! Everything began exactly the way it should have. I got comfortable, put my PJs on, and the technician came in and wired me up. This process took about 30 minutes and let me tell you I looked ridiculously hilarious once it was over. Despite all that, I settled in to bed watched some TV and read a couple of magazines before drifting off at about 11:00pm. At approximately 1:00am I felt the technician gently waking me up so he could slip a mask over my head. Being that I was so groggy and into my sleep, I just let him do it then I rolled on over and went back to sleep.

The next morning I was awakened at about six thirty to be unhooked and released. While he unhooked the thousands of wires I asked how many times I had stopped breathing. He responded, "Well, by the time I came in an put you on the c-pap machine you had already stopped breathing 98 times. Your blood oxygen levels were down to 65%.

<insert blank stare here>

Needless to say, I do not have to return for part two of the study and a machine has already been ordered for me. Hopefully, it will be delivered by the end of the week.

For me this diagnosis is a RELIEF!! Finally, I understand why I feel the way I do and can do something about it. For those of you who don't know, sleep apnea can cause high blood pressure, congestive heart failure, fatigue, headaches, slowed metabolism and may also contribute to the development and/or progression of diabetes. Check. Check. Check. Check. and Check. I have already been diagnosed with five out of six of those conditions. Sleep apnea is also hereditary.

I was excited to know there is something legitimately wrong with me and these feelings aren't just figments of my imagination. Now I just have to wait. I'm sitting on pins and needles hoping this machine is delivered sooner than later. However, until then my dreams will have to be 'deferred'.

My message here is to always be pro-active when it comes to your health. Once it's gone you truly have nothing left. And ladies, if you haven't done it lately, PLEASE FEEL YOUR BOOBIES!!



I Will Survive

It's past midnight and I should be in the bed. I have to be at the hospital at six in the morning for surgery prep to have my power port removed. This is the mechanism through which I have received my chemotherapy treatments for the past year. It is marking the end of the cancer era for me and the beginning of a new one....the one of SURVIVORSHIP!!

I am excited about having this foreign object removed from my body because it has been a big inconvenience from day one. The doctors all worked overtime to convince me to have this port implanted because it would make treatments go so much smoother than having to place an IV for every treatment. Their argument was that with this port they could draw blood AND administer my chemo through a one stick process every time. It sounded GREAT - but if you guys REALLY know me, then you know NOTHING medically is ever that easy when it comes to me.

From day one my port was a big PAIN IN THE ASS!!! I won't even talk about how I had to be awake during the surgery while they implanted it into my chest and ran the tube from my port, up to my neck and into my jugular vein so it emptied directly into my heart to pump those toxic chemicals through my system. Yea, I'd better not mention the HORROR of that ordeal. Or of how my port was tilted at an angle that no one could seem to access through just ONE stick. Or of how there was only one person who could ever access it properly the first time. OR of how, when the nurses saw me coming in for treatment, they scattered about like worker ants who SUDDENLY had so much to do because none of them would come near me or my port because of how I gave the business to the first nurse who inflicted so much pain upon me!! Yea, the nurses and I got a big laugh out of it MUCH later but none of them EVER attempted to try when it was time for the 'sticking' to be done. Hilarious was when they tried to send in a 'new girl' one day to do it. I didn't have the heart to send her to her demise so I properly informed her that the other nurses were setting her up for failure. Then I promptly sent her BACK out to the nurses station to tell them to quit playing!!!

AHHHHHH.....the good ol' days.

Well, I'd better go to bed because I have less than five hours to sleep. Pray for the medical staff that this all goes well. If it doesn't, you'll read about it tomorrow!!

CRAMPING My Style

*WARNING: This post contains unlimited amounts of sarcasm*

Today I am sitting in the doctor's office again searching for a few answers. I've been feeling more beside myself than usual so I'm desperately trying to get it together. During my last cancer treatment the doctors discovered that my potassium levels had bottomed out at dangerously low proportions and I was required to have a two-hour potassium drip before I could leave. (I'm going to conveniently leave out the fact that it was because I wasn't taking the potassium pills I was prescribed to offset depletion due to other medications they had me taking).

The nurse stated I need to come back in two weeks for additional lab work to see how I was progressing. Well, It's been three weeks and my symptoms are back with a vengeance: Light-headedness, nausea, muscles cramps/spasms in my extremities, and headaches etc. So here I am!

My labs FINALLY came back and they are all normal. YaY.....(not). I still don't know what's wrong with me and I made it very clear to my nurse I wasn't happy with all this 'normal levels' nonsense and she had some more work to do!! I've learned to be careful what you wish for because now I have two MORE hours of fluid to intake intravenously. Tracy (that's my nurse) is now looking into the fact that it may be due to some of the meds I am on. (YOU THINK?!?!? It's not like I'm taking a million pills a day.)

The FINAL outcome is that I have to discontinue one of my meds until I see my primary care physician next week (*voice inside my head* JUST ONE!?!?!), the other 99,000 I have to keep taking until....until....Well, just until.

I told you all that cancer is the gift that just keeps on giving....out of the numerous pills I take a day, most of them are to treat a condition created from the cancer/cancer-treatment or to keep the cancer from coming back...Oh yea, did I mention the "anti-cancer" pill I have to take twice a day for five years?!?!

But I digress....LOL. I just needed to vent AND occupy my time since I've been here ALL DAY!! The bright side is that I'm still cancer-free and "living my life like it's golden".

Be Blessed My Friends!!



Missing You

As I sit here receiving one of my last cancer treatments I can't help but reflect on where this journey has taken me. It's been one heck of a roller coaster ride with many twists and turns, ups and downs, and a couple of inside out loops! Through it all I have laughed, cried, and slept for days on end just to name a few emotions.

Being this close to the end of the road for my cancer treatment has me emotional. Ecstatic is an understatement for how I feel. I only have one treatment left and in three weeks I will receive a clean bill of health and be released from care except for my yearly check-ups and scans. Lord knows I have had more than enough set-backs than the law should allow but it has made me more than ready for this milestone. I will receive my last treatment on March 15th and my last MUGA scan on March 29th, just in time for spring break. Needless to say I shall reward myself this year with a trip and a grand celebration.

With all the celebration of being cancer-free there is also someone that needs to mourned. Someone I will miss dearly and that is ME. During this journey I have caught glimpses of my pre-cancer self and I miss her. I miss her energy and never-ending vibrant enthusiasm and other aspects of that bubbly personality. I'm sure you may have seen her peek her head out and even hang out for a spell but she doesn't stay out long. She tires much more easily and therefore doesn't spend nearly as much time in public as she did in the past.

Cancer has effected my life in ways I never would have imagined. GOOD and BAD. It has ravaged my body, turned my life upside down, wreaked havoc on my finances, robbed me of my energy, and played disappearing acts with my hair, just to name a few. The ONE thing cancer could not do was break my spirit and, if anything, it has strengthened my faith.

So as I say my final farewell to cancer and treatment I must also bid adieu to shadows of my former self. But if I had to put my feelings into words I would have to borrow these:

I've had some good days, I've had some hills to climb

I've had some weary days and sleepless nights

but when I look around and start to think things over

all of my good days outweigh my bad days

and I won't complain

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Wednesday was a momentous occasion for me. It was the first day I went to work without my wig and the beginning of my "Wig Free For Life" journey. The only way to describe the feeling is LIBERATING!! It wasn't the first time I had left the house without my wig but what made it such a big deal is that Tuesday was the last day I would EVER feel like I was in hair bondage.

Being a school teacher my big concern was How would my students react? I teach six and seven-year olds and we all know how brutally honest kids can be. Monday I struggled while getting ready for work. I really didn't want to wear it but I was still somewhat self-conscious about letting go. So I slapped it on my head...half cocked and went to work. I know I probably looked crazy but I didn't care at that point. This was a sure sign that the time had come to let go. My intention was to prep my students so there wouldn't be a shock and awe factor.....plus I would avoid some of that brutal honesty.

Well, the day got away from me and I forgot my intended prep session so shock and awe it would have to be. When I walked in Wednesday morning the reaction wasn't nearly as exaggerated as I thought it would be. For the most part they all just looked surprised, there were a few gasps, a couple of Why did you cut your hair Ms. Martin?, and one It wasn't her hair, it was a wig (A few of the kids already knew it was a wig). Unfortunately I didn't escape that brutal child-like honesty. There were a couple of very memorable comments.

1.  "You mean to tell me that was a wig all along?!?! (student shakes head then places head in hands in disbelief). THIS IS CRAZY!!
2. "You know Ms. Martin, you look kind of silly like that."

Despite looking silly, I left work feeling great. I was glad that I let go and learned even more about myself and my hang-ups through this cancer journey of mine. I was on my way to take the kids to bible study at church and I still had a million and one things going through my head. I had to go receive more cancer treatment the next day, I was having issues with my radiation area, my nephew was having some health and school issues, etc. etc. Just then I looked up and realized I was approaching a red light....and BAM!!!! I hit the brakes but was unable to stop before hitting a Cadillac Escalade. There was only a scratch on the rim of the Escalade but my Magnum was not as lucky. Thankfully the kids and I came out unscathed. God was truly watching over us.

So that leads me to today, Thursday, as I sit here in my treatment room receiving Herceptin at Louisville Oncology. I've been experiencing some skin irritations and severe itching in the areas where I received radiation. The nurse informed me that even though it may sound weird, the fact that I am experiencing the irritations lets them know the radiation is working. My skin is beginning to crack and possibly burn again. YaY me!! *heavy sigh* The nurse says that even though I finished radiation in October the effects could last for months. Between the falling out of my hair, to losing my taste buds, to 2nd and 3rd degree burns from my initial radiation, to the toenails that are STILL coming off.....Cancer seems to be the gift that keeps on giving!!!

Despite all of this I must tell you that right now my heart is HAPPY!! For this happiness I'd like to thank God for the gift of his son Jesus Christ. When you've been blessed in life the way I have, even the trials can't steal your joy. That's Jesus Joy!! My faith is unwavering and my gratefulness cannot be measured. My prayer is that you all experience that joy that gives you peace in the middle of your storms. It's a wonderful thing.

The Choice Is Yours

As I sit here in children's hospital with my nephew on the children's oncology floor my perspective begins to fine tune itself even more. Dealing with adult cancer is one thing but watching a child suffer is an entirely different entity. My nephew doesn't have cancer but he has Sickle Cell. In my opinion it's an even more debilitating disease because there is no cure and he will suffer from this his entire life.

I remember watching my brother suffer from this disease as a child. The horrible pain, the screams of agony, all the hospital visits, countless needles, the list goes on and on. My dad has the disease and passed it on to my brother and my sister. My sister didn't suffer nearly as bad as my brother did. She rarely had crises or episodes but when she did it was almost worst than watching my brother suffer. He was used to it and knew what to expect. That didn't make it easier but he tolerated these episodes better than my sister. Unfortunately, my sister ended up with the severe lung issues with the disease when she got older and it ultimately caused her death. Anyone who is close to me and my family knows the hardships we have endured regarding health issues. So when I tell you we come from a family of fighters....believe me, IT'S IN OUR BLOOD (literally and figuratively).

I keep hearing people say, "It must be awful to have to deal with him being sick and you're dealing with your health issues too." I will say it's tiring but I must be honest, I'm still thankful. Why? This is his first crises in a long time. Imagine my terror when I found out about my cancer last December knowing I had a child with serious health issues of his own. I was petrified. What happens if he gets sick and I'm sick? Then what?      

Well, the other day I was on the phone with my sister and she was saying the same thing and I couldn't help but say, "You know what? I'm not mad because at least he waited until I got through my surgeries, months of chemotherapy and radiation before he had an episode. At least now I am well enough to handle it." He overheard my telephone conversation and when I hung up he said, "Aunt Nana, I tried my best not to get sick because I knew you were sick." It's one of those parenting moments that brings tears to your eyes. Lord knows he has given me my share of parenting problems but this was one of those moments that make you feel proud.

I am nearing the end of my journey and happy doesn't begin to describe how I feel. For me there is a light at the end of the tunnel but for him there is not. I still have good days and bad days but who doesn't? So, before you begin to wallow in self misery or book the room for your pity party be thankful for what you have and be mindful of how your situation COULD be worse. If you are negative or bitter it is because YOU choose to be. It may sound cliché but 'Let Go and Let God'. Your life will be much more enjoyable.

For this life I choose happiness, peace, and tranquility. Try it, you just might like it.



Through The Fire

Well, I've successfully finished chemo AND radiation and for that I am more grateful than you could ever know. I have almost completed my journey and ecstatic doesn't even begin to  describe the feeling I have!! If you have followed my blog then you know there were some days I didn't think I'd make it and others I felt on top of the world. It has definitely been a roller coaster ride that I only plan on taking ONCE.

After chemo was over I was ready to party (mentally anyway) because physically the symptoms lingered for quite a while. I tried to rush radiation because I knew the sooner it began, the sooner it would end. Unfortunately, my oncologist made me wait three and a half weeks before my first session. Radiation was a breeze compared to everything else I had been through. What WAS overwhelming about radiation is that I had to do it everyday (Monday-Friday) for six and a half weeks. That's thirty three treatments to be exact. I attended every treatment with my kids in tow and never missed one because I was not going delay my 'happy ending' under any circumstances.

Each week I met with my radiation oncologist and he asked the same questions about how my skin was holding up. Wondering if I experienced any rashes, irritations, soreness, burning, etc. But luckily, I didn't. Further along in my treatment the doctor showed up in the radiation room to check my skin because he couldn't believe I hadn't had any adverse reactions yet. He was pleasantly surprised and I was convinced I would make it through this with flying colors. After all, nothing could be worse than chemotherapy right? RIGHT?!

At that point I only had five treatments left. Each day for a week leading up to that I would tear up each day while laying in the machine thinking of how much I'd been through and how the worst was about to be over and some days I couldn't keep the tears of joy from flowing down my cheeks. Then, with four treatments left, my skin gave out on me. It turned dark in the treatment area, became raw, and then the skin began to peel. This was the demise my doctor kept talking about.

So here I am, it's been three weeks since my last treatment and I never knew it would be like this. I have second and third degree burns under my left arm, on my left side, and now creeping around to my stomach. My flesh is exposed and much of the burn area is still oozing. I can't even begin to think about wearing a bra and the pain is unbearable. The only time I am not in pain is while I am laying still taking shallow breaths and vicadin has become my new best friend. It hurts to laugh, to walk, and especially when I sit down or get up, basically it hurts to move at all. I can't even stand completely upright because as the burns begin to heal the skin tightens and any sudden movements make me crack the skin all over again. Most days I don't even want to get out of bed and I feel as though I am always holding back tears from the pain.

Last night I was talking to one of my friends and she was crying just listening to my story. She said she couldn't believe how strong I was and at that point I couldn't either because right now I'd love nothing more than to just break down. What I have learned, from experience, is that you truly NEVER know how strong you are until being strong is the only option you have. So right now I will hold back my tears and continue to be thankful that I've made it through this journey with flying colors and plenty of colorful scars. I have challenged myself to do as much as I can to educate others and have agreed to do my first speaking engagement in two weeks.

If you have been moved by this and want to know if there is anything you can do to help me...ladies, FEEL YOUR BOOBIES. Gentlemen...FEEL SOMEONE ELSE'S BOOBIES....lol. But seriously men, talk to the women you care about and make sure they do self exams and have mammograms regularly.



Angels

Sometimes life is like a two-lane country road with a huge eighteen-wheeler in front of you. You can't see around it. You can't get around it. Your every attempt to pass has been met by oncoming cars, which makes you seem even more fearful that you will never move on. But what if there was a helicopter above with someone you loves at the controls? Better yet, what if you could communicate with the person in the helicopter? That is what God has already done for us. He can see the whole future clearly. As we communicate with him we can navigate around the big truck and on to the next obstacle in the road.

While this analogy is somewhat simplistic it is a reminder that we are dependent on God.....and even others in general to help us navigate through life. This next series of blog entires will be dedicated to those 'angels' that have been there to help me navigate through this breast cancer journey.

My first angel entry is dedicated to my step-mother Audrey Hall. She has been there with me and for me from day one to even now in ways that only an angel could be. My step-mother has been to every doctor appoinment, every surgery, every consultation, and every meeting imaginable that I've had through this journey. Her calendar is filled with scribbles and scrawlings of each of my appoinments as well as her own. When I tell you that there is absolutely NO way I could do this without her I mean that with everything in me.

She is in the trenches with me when I am low and she soars with me when I am high. Each and every one of my doctors know her by name and many times she has more questions than I do. When I had my first surgery to remove my breasts she sayed in the hospital on the pullout bed next to me each night and day. When the time came for me to be released she took me home with her and there I remained for the next four weeks.

During this time she cooked for me, fluffed pillows, ran errands, picked up prescriptions, made sure I made each and every doctor appointment, lotioned my feet, tied my shoes, took me to the beauty salon, cleaned my drains and measured the ouput then recorded it on the logs, and the list goes on and on. And she did all of this willingly and without even the slightest complaint. I would like to think I was a gracious patient but it was still a lot of work. (Did I mention she even gave me my medicine in those little cups like they give you in he hospital?)

However, in between times we had a lot of laughs and fun and bonding time. We watched soap operas, The View, Million Dollar Money Drop, and countless other shows. We talked and laughed and talked some more. Some days she spent time in her office while I watched movies on my laptop. Either way it goes I enjoyed my time in her care....maybe a little too much because I was definitely spoiled.

We do know that all good things must come to an end and when it came time for me to leave it was bittersweet. I didn't want to leave the comfort of her recliner, those hot breakfasts, the comradery, and the luxury of being treated more like a princess than a patient. But reality awaited me.....besides I missed my kids and they were missing me. The time had come for me to round up the troops and head home. So, as hard as it was to leave, I did what I had to do! Although, there are times I sit and long for the days we sat and talked. I felt like a carefree child with all the attention I wanted.

*SIGH*

To you Audrey, I love you and thank you. Those mere words will never be enough to express all of the appreciation and gratitude I have for how you have taken care of me and for how you care for me but hopefully this tribute begins to let you know how I really feel.

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

Well, it's definitely been a while since I've blogged. It's been a whirlwind of activity with the end of the school year, kids, chemo, and such. I am very excited about the coming of my sixth and final chemotherapy session but on the same note my heart has been kind of heavy and so I shall write.

I cannot begin to tell you excited I am about the end of chemo. The first thing people say when they hear me say I just have one more left is,"So what happens next?" My answer is always the same..."Well then I start radiation everyday for the next six weeks, Monday through Friday," and I get the inevitable *blank stare*. They're looking at me like "So WHY are you excited again?" Well, to put it in a concise manner CHEMO SUCKS. It's one of the hardest things I've ever experienced....and the more chemo you have the worse it gets, and by 'it' I mean my physical state. It has ripped me apart from the inside out. It's to the point now that unless I have to leave the house I spend the majority of the time in bed. I just don't have the energy and I can't even pretend like I do.

I used to enjoy hanging with friends during the upswing in-between chemos but those upswings no longer exist. There used to be about a week and a half time span in-between where I felt okay enough to go out and socialize however that has dwindled down to nothing. Now, when I do go out of the house, I secretly long to be back home. So yea, I'm looking forward to six weeks of radiation.

Amazingly, most people compliment me on how well I look when they see me out and about and that makes me feel good. It balances out those days when I stand in front of a mirror and don't even recognize myself. I've gone through so much these past few years and especially these past six months that it's hard for me to imagine living a 'normal' life again. The most honest thing I could tell you right now is that I feel like damaged goods.

BUT THERE IS A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL.....

My last chemo WILL be the hardest but I will make it through. I don't know how long it will be before I recover from it but I fully intend to do so. Then, after those six weeks of radiation I will take my battle worn body, come home from this tour of duty to begin civilian life again....and YES dammit I want a parade, with streamers, a band , the whole nine yards!! So look out, I will be back.



Weak Weary and Worn

Today is a bad day. I'm tired.....very tired and right now my life is hard. I am so physically exhausted I just wish I could crawl under a bed and sleep until this all went away.

This morning I went to the grocery store to get a few things and I literally had to stop and rest against something at least three times because my body ached so badly. I would never wish this kind of suffering on anyone. My feet, ankles, and hand are swollen to the point of pain but right now the worst of my suffering is the mood swings. They're horrible. HORRIBLE....and I feel so helpless because I can't stop them. Even though I know it's coming or I'm in the middle of one I cannot control my emotions. Most of all, I feel bad for my kids. I've tried to explain it to them and they seem to understand but have you ever watched your child come to you for something that seemingly shouldn't be a big deal and you feel yourself about to snap? Your body language tells it all and right when it's about to spew you see them take a few steps back, say nevermind I'll wait, and walk away. HEARTBREAKING yet it happens more often than I am comfortable with.

My daughter Alexis is the one who recognizes my despair when it hits. Everyday she tries to make things easier and more normal for me. She is always hugging and kissing me and checking to see if there is anything I may need. She tries to do things she thinks would allow me to rest. Anything she thinks would help. Right now she is sitting in the kitchen watching eggs boil so they don't burn. It's sweet yet heartbreaking at the same time because she shouldn't have to worry about me. She is the only one who recognizes that today I just can't seem to pull myself together and she hasn't seen even the million tears I've shed in the past hour alone.

Today I wish I could crawl into my mother's arms for comfort.

I am a stranger in my own skin and it sucks. Yes, today is a very bad day. However, as I attempt to pull myself out of this low I will use these lyrics to encourage me:

I've had some good days
I've had some hills to climb
I've had some weary days
And some sleepless nights

But when I look around
And I think things over
All of my good days
Outweigh my bad days
I won't complain



BEYOND THE BRAZILIAN: The Naked Truth

Well my anxiety is at a record high. Thursday will mark my second chemotherapy session. At the first session my oncologist told me I could expect to begin losing my hair in as early as three weeks. The time has come.

I must say that I've been so focused on finding the perfect wig(s) I didn't lend much thought to the fact that I will also lose arm hair, upper lip hair (yea, I'll admit it), leg hair, and...uh...well, you know. Two days ago I began to notice some excessive shedding and needless to say I got nervous. The good thing is my hair was still intact....I was shedding in the nether regions. I was a bit taken aback because, like I mentioned, I hadn't put much thought into that area. It bothered me a little but I was okay because I still had my top mane intact, although my scalp has become tender and that has my nerves on edge.

Recently, I've noticed myself periodically running my fingers through my hair and looking to see how many strands come out. Well later on, after the shedding incident, I took my wig to the salon so my aunt could taper the edges for me. When I put the wig on I couldn't get it styled the way I had the day I bought it and my tension began to rise. She went in and tapered it where it needed but couldn't get it  styled to her satisfaction either. We were both very obviously frustrated. Her frustration came from the whole 'cancer issue'. The cancer always becomes real for her when it comes to my hair and she cannot handle it. She breaks down. I am trying hard to be understanding but it is a double-edged sword. She has been my beautician my WHOLE life and I don't want anyone else in my hair. We both sat there frustrated and angry, not at each other, but at cancer. So, I gathered my purse, keys, phone, wig and left the salon.....still frustrated. I was mad that I even have to go through this.

Desperately I'm trying to remedy this hair situation and give myself options at the same time, so I decide to let my co-worker and friend create a wig for me using a 27-piece quick weave. We had talked about me losing my hair and she graciously offered to do it for me at the beginning of my battle. Yesterday was the big day. I went to her salon and she placed the stocking cap on my head and got right down to business. I was a long process but when she finished I was definitely pleased with the 'realistic' quality of the wig. I did want it to be a bit fuller in the rear-crown area but that was an easy fix we could do later.

Once I got home, I played with my new wig for a bit then toyed with the idea of trying it out in public at a poetry set I planned on attending. I realized I still wasn't ready mentally to wear the wig and probably wouldn't be until the time came when I HAD to. So I decided to take it off and get ready for a night out with friends. Then  came the real problems. It wouldn't come off. The glue had soaked through the cap and onto my real hair and it wouldn't budge. I began to freak out. I called Toni (my friend who created the wig), I called my aunt, then I called my sister all for advice on how to get myself out of this wig. I ended up using oil sheen in an attempt to loosen the glue. Then I spent thirty minutes in the shower shampooing and conditioning myself into a frenzy still trying to free myself. After an hour I was finally free and relieved but the wig was ruined in the process. I won't even begin to mention the amount of hair I lost in this fight. *HEAVY SIGH*

So here I am, almost three o'clock in the morning blogging because the time has come. Tonight my hair is beginning to shed heavily. I'm just glad I was not alone when it began. Papi was here reminded me that I was 'STILL WOMAN" but was just going through some changes. He threw away the hairball in my hand, told me to leave my hair alone and don't worry about it tonight, wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to comfort me (Thank you Papi). The entire time all I kept saying is, "This is bullshit!"

It sucks that I have to endure this kind of pain and trauma. THIS IS BULLSHIT. I honestly feel numb. I don't really know what or how to feel. THIS IS BULLSHIT. I knew it was coming, but how do you honestly prepare for something like this....emotionally? So here I sit, blogging my emotions, forced to deal with yet another blow and if you really want to know how I feel.......THIS.IS.SOME.BULLSHIT.

I Give Myself Away

I am sitting here at almost two o'clock in the morning and I am beyond tired but tonight my mind will not let my body go to sleep......so blog I must.

For the past few days I have lived in a body that has not felt like my own. If you read my last blog then you have somewhat an idea of what I am referring to. Today I have spent a great part of the day in my recliner listening to music and happened upon a song by William McDowell titled, "I Give Myself Away". This is the second time in two days that I have happened across this song in the most unusual of ways and I consider it more than coincidental, especially when I listen to the lyrics. They have left me unsettled and I've been thinking and reflecting and thinking and reflecting and thinking some more.....so this is what I have concluded:

I have been dealt this hand of breast cancer for a reason. It was not just by chance that it was given to me. I firmly believe that all things happen for a reason but whether I am privy to the explanation is an entirely different issue. I do try to make sense of the things that happen in my life so that I can learn from them in one form or another. From the beginning of this journey I didn't carry a great deal of fear because MY God would not give me something this hard to bear if he didn't feel I was equipped to handle it. That is my conviction.

Having said that, I believe this song speaks to me for this reason:

1. I have been struggling lately with the idea of friends and family members who truly have not been there to support me in the way I felt they should and I've been angry about it. If you love me show it, don't say it.  Today I have been able to let that go because of some of the lyrics of this song.

Take my heart

Take my life

As a living sacrifice

All my dreams, all my plans

Lord I place them in your hands

My life is not my own

To you I belong

I give myself, I give myself to you

I give myself away

So you can use me

After focusing on these lyrics my realization is that now I have to sacrifice my struggle as a way to help others. There may be someone who is also going through this and may not have the determination or strength to fight their way through. Knowing that 1 out of every 7 women will suffer from breast cancer tells me that someone who is reading or who has read my blog will experience this tragedy if they haven't already and maybe it could help them. But more importantly, if you can help others in any way DO IT!! There is absolutely no way I could even sit here and write these if it weren't for the people who have helped me along the way. Take time to be selfless. You have no idea the impact it makes in the lives of others.

Tonight my friend Nicki came over, brought groceries and fixed dinner for me and my family. She even picked Zion up from daycare. She fixed each child's plate and just the way they wanted it and even fixed mine and brought it to me. But there was something she did that made me cry....and she doesn't even know it. After doing all that, washing dishes, and cleaning the kitchen she gave Zion a bath for me and put him to bed. It seems so small but it meant EVERYTHING to me in that moment.

Each day you should find some way, big or small, to give yourself away. You never know how much it means to someone who needs it.

The Beast Within

Well, I have lived through my first round of chemotherapy and that in itself should be reason enough for me to celebrate. Although I am still waiting to come out of the fog it leaves you in, I must admit I am ever dreading the next session. The actual treatment itself wasn't bad. You just sit or lay while several medicine bags are run through your IV or port. It's pretty uneventful. What isn't uneventful is what begins to happen inside your body soon after.

It's hard to even attempt to put into words all of the side effects, mood swings, and psychological aftermath I've already experienced. What makes me ever more fearful is that many survivors tell me that these lingering effects intensify with each treatment. The first effect I experienced was the fatigue. I've never been the kind of tired that I am now. My energy comes in short bursts. They may last anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes. The bad thing about these bursts is that they are followed by HOURS of fatigue...and by fatigue I mean weakness, lethargy, exhaustion, feebleness and any other words you can think of to describe it. Yesterday I picked up a pile of laundry in my room, collected washcloths from both bathrooms, made my way to the laundry room to place them in the washer and by the time I made it back to my bedroom I thought I was going to die. I was totally winded and the pain in my back was unbearable. I was outdone.

I almost hate to even mention the aches and pains because I ache from the inside out. It starts in my bones and sets up shop there. I ache all over. From my jaws, teeth, shoulders, arms, back, legs, ankles, you name it and it aches. The great part about the aches is that they all seem to intensify at night making sleep an old, distant friend of mine. Sometimes even noise makes me hurt.

The first couple of nights I took Tylenol PM and that calmed things down so I could get some decent rest but for the past two nights I have not been as lucky. I have a headache that has signed a long-term lease inside my head and has a sleep pattern as erratic as mine. You never know when she's gonna wake up and want to play. And, of course, I'd be remiss if I failed to mention the fact that my taste buds are going numb. For now I can still experience traces of flavor, but more often than not these days the flavor of food has become distorted to the point of displeasure. I'd almost rather for them to go completely bland than to experience what has happened to the taste of chocolate for me. It's a SIN to do that to something that once brought me so much pleasure.

The icing on the cake are the mood swings. They're disheartening at times, come with a vengeance, never tell me how long to expect them to stay, and wreak havoc on my emotions. Please be forewarned at this present time that I have an extremely low tolerance for bullshit and trivialities. If you find yourself on the receiving end of these emotions take solace in knowing that it's not random. There was something festering underneath the surface before I let loose. My filter is broken and it's going to spew and you probably deserve it so I'm not going to apologize for possibly hurting your feelings. Just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, know that I STILL love you in spite of your short-comings.

I miss my former self. She is in there somewhere but doesn't get out often. Many times I'll just paste on a smile and fake it. I used to hate it when others would say, "If you can't take me at my worst, then you don't deserve me at my best", however, it has taken on a new meaning for me and is now my mantra.

There is a beast lurking within me so, please, beware....and proceed with caution.

Let's Get Wiggy With It!!

The time has come to face the reality of losing my hair, whether I want to or not. Yesterday my friend Lisa came to my house to pick me up and take me shopping for my first wig. She wanted to be the one to buy my first wig for me. I had stalled at the idea of shopping because it meant facing the reality of being bald. Plus, I have always hating wearing hairpieces, weaves, braids and such all my life. I have an obsession with combing my hair and those who know me well know how deep that obsession runs. In high school I always carried a comb, brush, curling iron, hair gel, and occasionally a small bottle of oil sheen in my purse. EVERYDAY.

My aunt Crystal is the one who should be doing this with me. She's my hairdresser. She's been doing my hair from the beginning of time. In fact, she's not just my hairdresser, she's my aunt and my friend. She's been in my hair since I was 14 years old and knows my obsession better than anyone. For my going away to college present she gave me a gift wrapped box full of various combs and brushes and curling irons. There must've been at least a dozen different combs and brushes in that box and it felt like Christmas. I was the best gift I'd ever received! 

We'd talked about the 'wig journey' a million times. She had done research on new wig techniques and wanted to create one from scratch. Each time we had planned to go something came up. Then finally, one day in the shop, she admitted to the hair portion of this cancer thingy is hard for her to deal with. I let out a heavy sigh. I really wanted this to be something for us to do together but I understood. No more pushing.

Lisa was a god-send because she offered to pick me up and take me. I didn't have to drive...yea!!! We'll we went to Hairmasters and I was immediaely overwhelmed at the sheer number of wigs that were there. I didn't know where to begin. Luckily, she is somewhat of a connoseur of wigs, that's why I'm glad she was there. We picked an aisle and began the search. It really didn't take long because I am very finicky when it comes to my hair. I found three I was willing to try on. The first one I really liked. It was the closest likeness to how I would wear my hair. The second wig was okay. The problem with that wig was that the hair lay too flat. Once I could get into it and curl it I knew I would like it more. I had options since it was a human hair wig. Wig number three did not fair at all. It barely makes this honorable mention. I put it on, looked to the left, then looked to the right. and took it right off. It was a no go!!

So I'm happy to say that I did leave with something that works for me and I like it. There are a couple of places it needs to be tweaked so my aunt will have to do that for me. My oncologist informed me today that in about as early as three weeks I can expect to begin some hair loss. It saddens me deeply but I think I'm kinda ready. 

Now for the gallery of pics: