Like Sand Through the Hourglass ...

It’s 2am, or something like that.  I am not really sure because I tip-toed ever so quietly downstairs to the computer to write this -- not wanting to wake anyone (including the dog).... The point is --- I can’t sleep.  My head is full of replaying memories and my heart is happy, and full of anticipation.  Like the night before a trip when you were a kid.  That feeling.  Well, sort of.  

I met Jeanette in college, maybe second semester of my freshman year.  We don’t need to do the year… then my kids might ask me again if we had phones.  Of course we had phones, but the kind that are plugged into the wall.  You know back in the days when a “hashtag” was a “pound” even further back than that.  Ok, 1995.   We were both Alpha Phis, and though that “made” us sisters… it wasn’t until the following year we became friends.  We were the most unlikely pair.  I can’t help but giggle a little recalling our stark differences.  She was an accounting major.  Honors college.  She is going to kill me for this-- but she knows it is all true.  She was quite serious.  As President of the sorority, she would look down the line of exec board to me to do the devotional, only for me to look back at her with “big eyes” and “wing it” because I had forgotten, yet again, to pull something ahead of time.  My only job as Chaplain. And I was sure beyond any shadow of a doubt she was thinking “That was your only job???”

But it worked… I winged it, and she smiled- and I knew she got me.  Even then.  It was that summer that the two of us attended Alpha Phi Convention in Scottsdale, AZ that - fate as I call it- took over.  An English teacher would point out foreshadowing --- as we would meet years later in the same town just before Jeanette and Mike (her husband)  were going to have their second child.  

I was President after Jeanette- and that ‘required’ us to be roommates.  The memories flood me - but all with smiles… laughs… pure, simple friendship.  We were addicted to Days of our Lives, and in fact I must confess-- scheduled our classes around it.  Yes, well, b/c it was live TV WAY back then.  :)  And Bo and Hope were true love.  And I really don’t need to explain the rest do I?  Or sure Marlana was the Devil…   We would race from the second floor apt….to our classes… running and talking about the whole way there.   The Fashion School and the Honors college were not right next door…. So as we split … we would still be screaming to each other about what had just happened…. Every.  Single.  Day.  By the time I got to my seat in class I was still laughing or smiling about the ridiculous conversation we just had about ‘Days’ and how many people along the route thought we completely insane.  Or they just smiled too.  Friendship is a gift.  Even when you are a stupid, self absorbed college student- you know that.  

We had formals, and date parties, boyfriends, and graduations.   It turned into internships, jobs, and engagements.   She married Mike just a few months before I married Ben.  (17 years ago)  And I was there as a bridesmaid in her wedding , as she was in ours.   We discussed the important things in life that year, flowers, cake, dresses, dresses, dresses.  As they moved  around the US - Ben and I traveled to see them.  Beach vacations, and trips back to AZ.    Then came babies…. They had a girl, we had a boy, then a girl, then they had two more boys.  Life was good.  

Jeanette was the first friend I called when I found out I had breast cancer.  The first one.  

And as I write this through tears… I believe  I was the first friend she called too.

That was just a few months ago.

It shouldn’t be this way.  Is that what you are thinking?  You’re right.  How can this be?  

My mind just kept saying … “But I was the one in eight.  I was. “

She has breast cancer.  

I did as any friend would- I went to see her as soon as I could.  It was for her MRI appt.  Of course my first hand experience played into my heart beating a mile a minute as I entered the hospital that morning up in Cleveland.  I couldn’t recall the last time we saw each other… it was a fun weekend with college friends.   This, this was such a contrast it made me shake a bit.  But, as soon as I heard her voice at the registration desk- everything changed.   There were no tears- only laughs that morning--- that poor lobby witnessed two old friends that couldn’t stop each other from laughing, and talking a mile a minute.  Friendship is a gift.  

A couple weeks ago- I mailed her my wig.  My heart sank.  We shared clothing, makeup, even a baby crib… but a wig?  While at the post office I had to get insurance on the box and I told the lady what was inside.  I started to cry.  Out of nowhere.   She looked at me and said.  I am a 12 yr survivor.  I smiled- the tears stopped.  

Jeanette had her 5th round of chemo on Thursday.   And she and her amazingly supportive husband Mike are joining us for Velvetonia tomorrow evening.  Our conversations now consist of pathology results, side effects from chemo, and how kids adapt.   As I celebrated my 5 year mark- just a month before Jeanette was diagnosed.  I am once again reminded.   Cancer is a sneaky bitch.  And it is personal.  I am reminded that it can happen to you,  or me.  I have no doubt Jeanette has already kicked cancers ass.  And her brave journey will be one that she will look back on and remember what she took from cancer rather than what it took from her.  I know she is the ‘glass half full’ girl, and I believe in her.  Same as I did in college.  In her marriage, and as a mom.  She’s got this.  And I am continued to be be inspired by her.  

I could fill this blog with my many memories… of our friendship… my mind keeps reminding me of more.  I can’t wait to see my lifelong friend, Alpha Phi sister, and now pink sister Jeanette tomorrow.  ( and Mike too)  What’s that saying?--People come into your life for a reason…. Oh ya…. That.  

** This Pelotonia Ride 2016 if for Jeanette.

January won't be the same.

*** This Post has little to do with cancer, but more to do with me, and someone very special to me -my Papa- who passed away peacefully this past Sunday night.   I happened across this... below... as a Happy Birthday - as he turned 90 last year.   The writing assignment was " Here we Go Again..."

Here WE go again.

1/9/13

I didn’t have a twin.  But I always shared my birthday.   As far back as I can recall.  And I was always happy to share it.  Truly.   Maybe it is because I share it with my Grandpa, or Papa as I call him.   I am Jan. 10^th, and he is Jan. 11^th.    It was fun to see how many candles we could get on the cake.   I suppose it was sometime in my teenage years I realized I wouldn’t always be sharing my birthday.   I put that thought away.   It became a little more special every year after that. 

This Friday we celebrate my Papa’s 90^th Birthday.   He is the Papa who built me a doll house when I was 5 yrs old.  We are not talking just any old dollhouse.  It has a wrap around porch with a swing.  It has hard wood floors and wall paper.  Real drapes, and little framed pictures on the walls.  The front door has a stain glass window.  Every detail down to the toilet paper on the toilet paper roll. .  It is my dream house.  It will always be my dream house.     All done by hand.  His hands.  With love, for me.    I watch my daughter play with it, and even my son.  They are transformed as I was. 

As soon as I could ride a bike we would go for rides.  Papa rode his red bike with a big horn that he would gladly blow at anyone in our way.  We rode down what now is a huge four lane highway, and I wonder how in the world he was brave enough to take a wild child like me with him.  We would ride 4 miles.  That was a lot.  And now I get it.  He was trying to tire me out!  We would arrive home to a home cooked meal and table set by my nanny.  It was always good. 

It was the teenage years I recall receiving  the beginnings of his many newspaper clippings.  I will never forget the one he sent me on teenage driving and speeding.  I still think about that article.  It was the first time I actually thought- “maybe I don’t know everything, maybe my brain is impulsive”   These were pretty deep thoughts in a time when all I could think about was driving my parents car, and that included driving fast.  And being stupid.    For a longtime-  I thought about that article everytime I put on my seatbelt.   He made me think.  When I wasn’t doing much thinking.  

He wrote me letters while I was in college.  Real letters.  Through the mail.  He wrote them in cursive.  Catholic  School cursive, and I keep every last one.  He wrote me one when I graduated that I still can’t read without tears about how proud he was of me.  He isn’t a sap my Papa.  But he loves me a lot.

He loves me enough to say a Hail Mary every night while I was going through chemotherapy.  I am not sure if I said a word when he would call me to see how I was doing during those months.  I would listen. He was wise.  Calming.   He told me he hasn’t said that many Hail Marys since The War.  Now he was thinking ‘who would he share his birthday with.’  No, he never said it.  But I knew. 

This Friday WE will celebrate our birthdays.  Again.  It never does get old, even if we do.

Happy 90^th Birthday Papa.  I love you.

 

RIP-Papa.

WE CAN AND WE WILL

Cleaning out my desk today - I came across my Velvetonia Speech (I gave this June).   It was fitting to read it in my office only to look out our front windows and see the many October Breast Cancer flags in the neighborhood....And on the eve of Pelotonia's last day for donations.... I find it more fitting to share- so here you go:

Everyone who has been diagnosed with  cancer… has “a date”… the day when you heard those words…..

Mine was Friday May 13,2011.  

I was 35.  Healthy.  Happy.  A wife.  A mom.   And just a day before I didn’t know I had a stage 3 tumor growing in my left breast. 

But that’s cancer.  It’s sneaky.  It’s unpredictable.   And it was in MY body.

My bi-lateral mastectomy was scheduled two wks later.   I woke up early that morning in anticipation.  It was the last day of school for our son.  He was a first grader.   As I walked him to the bus – we saw a pink balloon tied to our mailbox.  Deep breath I thought.  No tears.  Keep it together.     I did.  Keep  it together that is.. until the bus pulled away.   What a simple balloon can do.  Knowing it was tied there with love  and support.    It wasn’t until my husband Ben and I drove out of our neighborhood that we saw the hundreds of balloons… Pink balloons… tied to street signs, trees… all the way down the street.   As we made our turn onto the main road into town… There it was…a sign that simply read: “ IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO CURE CANCER”   This support is Granville.  It is why people stay here.  It is why they come back.  It is community.  And to me on that morning it was the reason I had a smile on my face and a strong sense that all would be ok.  Because, I had a village behind me- with me.   

 

Another sign - downtown Granville  read  “HEY CANCER – YOU PICKED THE WRONG CHIC”  It did!  That was the sign I was talking about when they wheeled me into the operating room.  Though my voice was shaking as I spoke from uncontrollable nervousness- I still recall telling Chase the transfer nurse about my morning.  About my family.  My friends.  My town.  And how WE were going  to fight  this cancer.  Together.   I don’t know… it might have been the drugs, but I am sure he was ready to join “our team” and as he rolled me to OR room # 24- I might have convinced him that we were in a looker room gearing up for the biggest game of our lives.  Our opponent though was almost undefeated., and didn’t play by the rules.  Still looking in his eyes as he was the last one I recall seeing before my deep sleep- I could tell he believed we could win. 

That is the thing for those of us( newly diagnosed, in treatment, in remission…) for those of us that have “a date”… we hold on to the HOPE we can win.    It is given in so many ways.  Cards, meals, playdates for the kids.  Countless phone calls. Anonymous  Flowers left by my doorstep.  All delivering hope, and inspiring us in a way that makes curing cancer seem closer rather than  the distant future. 

Pelotonia was that hope for my husband.   Ben may have had the toughest job on that day in May of 2011.   Hearing your highschool sweetheart, your wife and the mother of your children has cancer is inconceivable.  But Ben did as Ben always does—He fired up – and took action. The  Irony was, he was already signed up for Pelotonia.  He had riden in Pelotonia in 2010 as an individual rider.  But now – well now – it was personal.  What can you do when your wife is in chemo?  Train for Pelotonia.  Talk to your friends about Pelotonia.  Raise awareness.  In 2011- in a couple short months Ben organized our first Peloton: Brett Jump’s Bicycle Brigade  The support was overwhelming and we grew fast.   Totaling 28 riders for our first year, and raising over 46,000 dollars.   I had shaved my head a week before Pelotonia that summer.  And had chemo the Thursday before the ride.  I promised myself that morning- I will ride in 2012.  And I will ride every year until we find a cure.

It was a gorgeous morning in 2012 when I rode my first Pelotonia- 50 miles to New Albany. We renamed the Peloton Team Granville.       That year,  our Peloton had grown to 43 riders and we raised over 78,000.  `100% of the funds directly used for cancer research@ The James.  Hope.  I have never known hope like I did that day.  It was empowering  to see so many so passionate for ONE GOAL.  And it was moving to ride along side so many that carried me though one of the toughest years of my life.

So – tonight I stand up before you and Thank you for supporting Team Granville- WE ARE Peloton of 80 members strong.  That’s right.  80.  That’s HOPE.  I can’t wait to ride again this August –  hearing the cheers of people holding signs that read  “you are my hero.  You saved my life”  

Thank you for riding.  Thank you for being part of the journey.  For joining the fight.  Gearing up for the game and being passionate about our ONE GOAL.

 

That's it... and that was June... two months later we rode through Granville.... through the best town in the world.  There were cheerleaders, church bells, and people at every corner.  I do believe I cried from the moment I hit Broadway until stopping at Hugh Prices' office..  Greeted by my family, my friends, and my amazing husband that continued to Kenyon that day.   It was a day I will never forget and one that words can not describe.  I rode the entire way with my daddy- it was - a gift.  

This year-Team Granville has raised $116,092.07 as of this afternoon.   That is this year alone.  But we won't stop.  We can't stop.  This cancer has continued to invade our lives, or families and our friends.  And we are fighting back.  WE are strong and WE will find a cure.  ONE GOAL.  END CANCER.  

 

Dear Me,

All right all right... no news is good news... good news indeed.   I am updating my blog, doing as I am told so to speak.  I hear about it a lot- you see... and it is .. well.. very flattering to know so many of you care.  Thank you.

It is the eve of my last treatment.  My very last.  Sounds like we have done this before... oh yes we have.  I thought Nov. 17th 2011 was my last chemo... and it was until the wonderful Cleveland Clinic re-ran my pathology last March and found I was HER2 positive.  So, now I am writing after nearly 2 years from feeling that little bump in my breast.  After a bilateral mastectomy.  After 5 months of Chemo. And 37 radiation treatments.  Then an additional year of Herceptin via IV.  I am writing this blog post.  With tears.  Such happy tears.  Because- tomorrow is my last, very last IV treatment for Breast Cancer.  The fight is over.  And I have won.  But not just the battle.  So, so much more.

I found the picture of me from my second blog post- You know the one-  There I am in that crop top of a gown at the Plastic's Office.  So many things run through my head as I look at that girl in the photo.  Blondie with her thumbs up.  Has she any idea what the next few years would have in store?  No.   She didn't.  So much so I am dedicating this blog to her.
Dear me......
I know you are scared.  But it will all be ok.  
I know you think you have it all under control.  You don't.  You never did.  It's ok.  God will take it from here.  You can trust him.  He is better at the control thing than you.  Really.
You can't hide your pain - so don't try.  I know you will.  And what a terrible actress you will realize you are.  It's ok to have bad days.  It's OK to let your kids know you are having bad days. 
That man behind the camera, ya, you know the one you met in high school and fell madly in love with.  Well, you haven't felt anything yet.  It gets better.  You have no idea what kind of love you two share as ride the roller coaster cancer ride.  It is like nothing I could ever explain in words. 
Your friends and family will embrace you continually.  Meaning - it never stops.  They love you with food, flowers, books, pictures, letters, cards, and phone calls.  They lift you up in ways you had no idea human kindness could.  It is powerful.  It is overwhelming.  And at times it is the only reason you get out of bed. 
Your body is healthy.  I know I can't convince you now because you are still angry at your body for letting this cancer grow.  But - you will soon see that your body is healthy.  The surgery is the single hardest physical (and emotional) thing you have ever gone through.  But you get through it.  And your body is healthy. 
Losing your hair to Chemo is not as hard as double taking when you catch a glimpse of your bald head in the mirror in the morning.  Looking sick- is harder for you than being sick. 
OH, and get this- when your hair comes back-- it is dark... I mean we all know you're not a "real" blond, but even your own mother is surprised at these dark locks.
You will ride in Pelotoina- 50 miles you will bike.  It is more than meaningful.  And you know those little voices you hear in your head that tell you -" you can't do this... you can't bike all that way"  well, they are gone.  All I can hear is " you can , and you will!"
You will learn more about your drive and will than you can ever imagine now.
And most of all - You will LIVE IN THE MOMENT... each and every single day.  Find yourself "freeze- framing" moments with your kids.  Enjoying their laugh.  Listening to them talk to each other.  Simple joys, otherwise passed by. 
Each Season will be your new favorite... until the next one comes along to take it's place.
And soon, very soon you will have a close friend call you about her lump, her pathology, her chemo, her wig and her sadness.  Her deep sadness. 
So, me... I see you sitting there with your two thumbs up.... but I know your sadness...
I am here to tell you.  Your sadness turns into an appreciation for living.
And you win.  And continue to win each day you take more from cancer than it took from you.
Victory.

Touch of Grey

"Every silver lining's got a.... touch of Grey..." - Grateful Dead 

I can't help but sing along.  It is 6am, and I feel on top of the world.  I am on my way to Cleveland Clinic -it's Thursday April 19, 2012.  I have a 8:30 apt. with Susan, the Head Trial RN who has in every possible way become one of my biggest cheerleaders along the way.  

We met less than a month ago when I originally went to Cleveland Clinic as sort of a 3rd opinion on if I should get a hysterectomy.  See it's like this, breast cancer is fed by something... and in some breast cancers it is fed by estrogen.  So, the obvious thing to do (to me) is to get rid of any estrogen in my body, or anything that produces it.  Hence, a hysterectomy.  But, not without the proper research, and Doctor opinions.  My OB/GYN Dr. Miller, (as you might recall me talking about her as my angel... after this post you will certainly not forget that.)  she discussed my case with my oncologist at the James as well as two other Oncologists in Columbus, and when she couldn't clearly make what she called an "informed decision" on how to proceed, she suggested we go to Cleveland Clinic to talk to Dr. Halle Moore and oncologist who might be as I would like to call "our tie breaker" opinion.  And what a change of events that decision has made. 

After meeting with Dr. Moore in mid March many questions were answered.  It was confirmed that I HAD stage 3a breast cancer.  She discussed at length my prognosis and what to do to improve it.  We discussed a plant based diet, no alcohol, and exercise.  And ... cue the music... we discussed a clinic trial they had that I might qualify for... All things to keep this cancer from NEVER returning again.  I was jazzed, excited and think I might have skipped back to the car that day.  I felt so empowered.  It was good to hear there was something else I could do to improve my odds.  It was better to know from another oncologist that I was truly on the right path.  As Ben held my hand that day, he gave me that extra squeeze as if to remind me "we got this."  It was a very good day. 

The one thing Dr. Moore couldn't completely answer that day was should I go ahead with the hysterectomy.  This because my original pathology (from my mastectomy surgery) showed my tumor was inconclusive on if it was estrogen positive.  Riverside's pathology department had classified my tumor as ER positive, PR negative and HER2 negative.  However, OSU's path dept. had me classified as triple negative, meaning I was ER negative, PR negative, and HER2 negative.   I know, I know, what does that all mean?  Trust me, it felt like another language when I was diagnosed.  In a nutshell, these are the tumor markers.  The estrogen and the progesterone are hormones (obviously) and are fed by those.  The HER2 is a marker as well and is another way to help define the tumor and help treat it.  Since these two depts had discussed their findings and basically agreed to disagree, Dr. Moore requested that Cleveland Clinic run the pathology to make a final decision.  My tie breaker... yes, I would like that!    Dr. Moore had thought that the Estrogen marker would most likely come back negative and a hysterectomy would not be a good option.  But she wanted to see the final results before making a decision.  I was fine with that, and waiting is... the name of the game folks... so we waited...

I had some other things to do- like have my reconstructive surgery done-April 3rd, and while waking up from surgery Dr. Moore was leaving me a message regarding my pathology results.  Honestly, I couldn't write this better.. it's just how it happened..sware.   The surgery went well, I came home that day- and it was later in the day when I finally got to ck my voice mail.   I saw the phone number and knew.  It is amazing how easy I memorize hospital phone numbers, for a girl that doesn't like numbers - I sure can do those.  So, I dialed Dr. Moore and got the news.  The news that changed everything.  Dr. Moore said "Brett, I didn't see this coming" no kidding Dr. Moore, I didn't either.  She shared the news that I was ER negative, and PR negative, BUT- I was HER2 positive.   My heart dropped.  I knew what that meant, HER2 positive meant I should have had Herceptin with my chemo, OMG- how could this be happening.  My heart was beating so fast I could barely talk.  I immediately ask Dr. Moore, if I was right... should I have had Herceptin?  Yes, she explained, then she calmly told me of trials and studies that show Herceptin's use w/out chemo after chemo where the benefits are still there.  Hold on, my head is spinning.  Can this really be happening?  We talked more, she recommended Herceptin, via IV, every 3 wks for one year.  I hung up the phone.  Ben was there with me.  I was physically (from the surgery) exhausted, and now mentally unsettled. 

But, it didn't take long for me to see God's hand in all of this.  It was like a deep breath of fresh air.  I can't explain it any better.  I came to terms with the Herceptin, but was still trying to come to terms with how lucky I was to find this.  So blessed.  On a mission to find an answer on something else, we found a very important piece to the puzzle of keeping me here on this earth, and I am so grateful.  I am so lucky.  I know God has his hand on me, and I know I have angels up there working magic.  If you think that is hooky, I understand, but I am telling you from the bottom of my soul I feel now more than ever I have this beat.  I am empowered by this news.  What originally made my heart race, now has it skipping a beat!  So it is my friends, my cancer roller coaster.  May you never get on- but if you do, may you put your hands up and enjoy the ride!  After all, this is life, and I wake up every single day thankful for it.  It may be next Tuesday May 1st when I get my first IV of Herceptin.  The first of a year- long treatment (every three wks for a year).  To save my life.  To help my odds.   I got this. 

I know you are thinking 'how can this happen, how did they miss this?"  It happens, and pathology is both an art and science, just like medicine.  And we still don't know a lot about tumors, and who knows why my tumor did this?  I don't.   I just know it did, and we can do something to insure it doesn't come back.  And I am thankful for that.  I certainly am not looking forward to more treatment, but knowing we found this, is like a fire burning in me giving me so much strength and hope.  My oncologist Dr. Shapiro (OSU) told me I would "breeze right thru this" knowing how well I did with chemo.  I know he is right.  Ben and I agreed this is much too much information for the kids to understand.   So we are down playing it as much as possible.  I will go to OSU every 3 wks, and that's as much as they know.  The most important thing to them is Mom is cancer-free, she is back, she is a silly dancing fool in the morning and she still can't carry a tune!  Davidson (our 8yr old) changed my Wii character to have short hair just this past wk.  It is the new normal.  I feel 100% and they know it.  

"I will get by..  I will survive... We will get by... We will survive..."  -Grateful Dead  plays on my way up to the clinic that Thur morning... I am seriously singing at the top of my lungs... on top of the world.  Driving into the most amazing sunrise in all shades of Pink.   Most fitting.  I  had lots to think about that morning up to Cleveland, and it was all good.   I can't believe the change of events, but I can embrace them.  I knew HOPE that morning driving to Cleveland like I had never known before. It was different.  And I was right.  The next morning (still up at the clinic) I was accepted into the 5 year trial.  My blood tests and chest xray were great.  PS, getting good results from a blood test is like Christmas.  I was given the drugs to take one a day, and was praying for side effects since it was a double bind placebo.  At home Saturday I started the meds.  My side effects are textbook, and I am sure I have the drug and not the placebo.  Again, improving those odds.  I got this....

I will get by.  I will get by.  I will survive. 





WE did it!

"Dear God, Thank you for helping my mom get through Cancer, and please let her never get it again. Amen"  This was our 8 yr. old's prayer last night at bedtime.  He said it while holding my head in his little hands while our foreheads touched.  But the best part... after I said Amen, he looked me right in the eyes and said.  "I know those are happy tears mom!"  He was right.  I love that he knows this, I also love that I no longer have to hide behind my feelings because he sees right through that anyway.  Kids see much more than we ever realize.  And there love and support is stronger than we could ever imagine.  God's gift I am sure.  They seem to know the right words at the right times.  Simply put.  No extras, nothing flashy, just simple.  Good.  and right on.  That's how they roll.  So much to be learned there.  And my saving grace for the last year. 

I had my last treatment today.  Love that sentence.  I did it.  I made it.  But really it should be WE did it, WE made it.  This was not a journey I took alone.  Sure, I was the only one who got the surgery, the port, the chemo, and the radiation.  It is such an overused joke now, but still makes me laugh when Ben says after one of these procedures... "That didn't hurt me a bit!" :)  I still humor him with a smile.  But the truth is it does, and it did hurt him.  And he stayed strong.   Everyone around me stayed strong.  But even stronger than strong.  I hear everyday how amazing I am.  How brave.  How strong.  It makes me cry, I don't mean a little I mean waterfalls.  I am a weepy mess friends.  Because what you see is only a mere reflection of everyone around me.  I am only as strong as you.   I couldn't have done any of this without you.  Sounds like a cliche doesn't it.  A bit cheesy I am sure.  But the truth.   As I sat thru my last and FINAL radiation today I thought about all my support.  I thought about the simple smiles of the nurses and techs at the James.  I thought about the many laughs we had over the song choices while I was getting my daily dose of radiation.  They sometimes had to screen the country songs.. so many country singers want you to "Live like you are dying" or "Love you through it" ... of course not the easy song to hear while you are holding your breath with your hands above your head and truly only thinking about your cancer, hoping you never have to go thru the past year again, and so on....  
I thought about the day in June when I drove through Granville for my surgery.  I cried remembering the sign at the end of our street that said "It takes a Village to CURE CANCER".   It kept ringing in my brain.  If I didn't have strength that morning... I certainly found strength from those signs., and balloons.  I still do.
I thought about the meal trains, and the amazing amount of people that came together to insure my family was feed, and feed well.  The amount of LOVE that went into every single meal made for us.  I thought about the families that had prayed together for us, and that continue to pray.  How can that not make me strong, brave.  I thought about my girlfriends in the lobby of the James waiting for me to come out one last time and RING the bell that I was done with treatment.  My support team.  I thought about each one of them.  And the ones that were there in spirit.  My neighbors who mowed our lawn, watered our plants, watched our kids... while I recovered from surgery and chemo.  My friend who single handily organized playdates with our kids so every single day in the summer they were cared and loved --- Are you feeling strong yet... b/c even writing this makes me feel it... INSPIRED... BRAVE... these are all words you call me, but don't you see... you made me this way... YOU all made me this way.  I think of my family, and the enormous amount of strength they gave to me this entire journey.  My parents, my brother, my in-laws,... cousins...aunts, ...I have a cousin who sent me a card in the mail once a wk while in treatment.  AMAZING.  I think of my friends from college who visited, lifted me up, and kept reminding me who I was... who I truly was.  I think of my husband who is my true hero in all of his.  He got to see my at my worst, I mean we are talking physically and mentally.  And it wasn't pretty.  And you talk about BRAVE and INSPIRING, and STRONG.  He is this and more.  So, here I sit at 4am... unable to sleep because I am still pinching myself that OUR happy ending has arrived... I am absolutely humbled by this experience.  It has without a doubt been a journey.  One we took together.  One I took with all of you.  Each day was conquered with the help of each one of you.  I love the silver lining of it all.  I love the fact we did it.  I love that each of you were here to make me strong.  I love that God held me in the palm of his hands throughout this.  We are blessed.

OH NO- the turkey is dry.....

I can't sleep... This sort of thing NEVER used to happen to me before cancer... That's called B.C. in my world these days... It is so much easier not to use that word all the time.  I suppose a lot of things were easier.  Like shopping in October.  I suppose all the pink ribbons and shirts, and cups, and well...  you name it - (In support of breast cancer) were easier to look at... As if I don't think about it all the time.  There's a reminder.  And a good one.  Every time I see finding a Cure I think of Bella.  Hoping that some day she has a cure.  So if it means I have to look at pink pins, headbands, and even tennis balls... so be it! I really do still love the color pink, I suppose maybe even a bit more.   October... here we are... I remember when I was in my worst days of May thinking what a long summer it would be, and a hard fall... and I would think how much I wanted to see those trees turn colors and then... then.. I would be almost done.....Granville is absolutely beautiful in the Fall, and those early days of May I remember thinking of all my memories of Granville is the Fall...it seemed so far away...
Well, here we are... and I must say... it has been a journey, and one that has had its ups and downs.  I haven't blogged since August, and I have heard about it!  Why isn't she blogging?? Is she worse?  Is she better and busy?  What is going on??   And the answer is....... Busy and tired.    But a good tired for the most part.  Chemo has been tricky.  Tricky in the sense that originally I was scheduled to go 4 A/C treatments and then 12 Taxole treatments.  I did my 4 A/C treatments to find out that there was/is a shortage  of Taxole, and therefore my Dr. changed my treatments to Taxotere.  Only 4 Taxotere with 3 wks in between due to the harshness of the drug.  And according to my breast surgeon Dr. Lilly who might have (and I use the term might lightly) put his foot in his mouth--" Taxotere is a killer." 
I have had two treatments of Taxotere.  The first was doable- I was in bed a few days, flu like feeling, slight fever... but seriously, this is chemo... I got thru it.  The second Taxotere... was what I like to call my first scare... I had chemo on Thursday and by Monday I still couldn't get out of bed, and fever rising... I called the James, and they wanted to admit me.. ask me to pack for two nights.  By the grace of God.. when I got there my white blood counts were good (well good for a chemo chic) and they gave me IV antibiotics, and IV fluids, my fever let up and I was able to go home.  A terrible day, but over-joyed  to be spending the night back at home, with my kids and hubby.  You see, my oncologist said to me at our first meeting... Brett the only predicable thing about cancer is that it is unpredictable.   I hear this so many times running thru my head.  His version of my roller coaster ride.  Well, I am near the end of this ride... ready to enjoy so many other things at the Park so to speak!  I have chemo this Thursday again.  That means I get to start my pre-meds tomorrow and "nest" meaning try to get ready to spend the following 4 or so days in bed.  It is no party and I am so glad to be at the end of chemo.  I have one more after this Thursday.  It happens to be Nov. 17th... my last chemo. Ever.  Right before Thanksgiving.  Hard to say that sentence without tears.  I am so Thankful this year.  Brings absolute new meaning to Thanksgiving.  I mean do I care if the Turkey is dry? HELL no!  Or who brings what?  Nope.  Just happy to be here.    And in our new house-  That we moved into 2 wks. BC.... and I had visions of my family eating Thanksgiving in our new dinning room, all together.   Grateful~ absolutely grateful that vision will be reality in a month.   And Thankful.  Thankful I found that lump.  Thankful my kids love me bald.  Thankful I have an amazing family that takes care of me like no other.  Thankful I have a supportive husband, that is my best friend.  Thankful that I have friends that never leave me alone, even when I am weepy, or angry, or just me.  This is life.  And I am so Thankful. 

Worth the wait.....

I admit it.  I was scared about Chemo.  I didn't like the thought of it one bit.   The stories were horrible.  The movies, worse.  My Oncologist was very clear on the side effects, and was honest.  It isn't easy to hear.  I was worried if it isn't easy to hear, how is it going to be going thru it?  But, as this road has its ups and downs, I go on (as if I have any choice), and try as hard as it might be at times to keep my head up, and my mind in the right frame of mind.  :)  It works.  I am proof it works. 

I had my first Chemotherapy treatment on Friday July 22nd., and my second this past Thursday Aug. 4th.  These are the first 2 sessions of my A/C chemo treatments.  All together I will have 4 A/C treatments, and 12 Taxol Chemo treatments.  So, basically my "heavy hitting A/C" treatments are now 1/2 done.... NOW that's not including the 12 Taxol chemo treatments that are every wk following.... but... I am just counting down here, and every single treatment I can count down is a WIN.  Especially when you feel as amazing as I do.  I am not sugar coating this one bit.  I feel empowered, I feel amazing.  Physically - I feel tired, a little off, even a little tummy ache.  BUT nothing like you see in the movies, THANK YOU GOD! 

After my first chemo, the James called me every other day to insure I was doing well.  I had a few things to tell them about, but overall... I was smiling, eating, laughing, and walking... miles... every single day!   I have completely cut out meat from my diet, most dairy, no caffeine and no alcohol.  Does it help?  Well, I figure anything they tell me to limit, I take out, and I feel amazing, so something is working.   By the time it was time to go back for chemo # 2, they had told me I would have lost my hair.... It was still on my head when I walked in on Aug. 4th.   But by the next night it was coming out in clumps.  My Oncologist asked me how I faired after the first treatment.  After my response of, well, it really wasn't that bad... he told me he had never heard that in 20 yrs.  BUT, he was glad to hear it.  All I can think of is- I suppose this toxic shit (that the nurses literally put on masks, gloves and dbl, and triple ck the amount b/4 they put the red bubbly meds into my port)  is killing any possible cancer left in my body- and hey that is GOOD enough for me.  Kill those cancer cells.  Dead.  As for me, I am happy my body seems to be living on the edge and letting that crazy stuff come inside and fight!  All the while, I feel a complete sense of peace knowing IT IS WORKING.  How can I not glow,  and feel so good?

So, #2 chemo, was supposed to be worse; they say it is cumulative.  Of course... another hurdle.  Well, I am kind of getting used to these now, and find myself rallying the days prior.  Drinking my water, long walks with friends and my hubby.   It was a good day.  I had my nurse, Katie.  She will be my nurse for every session, and that is good b/c she is a doll, and she has to be by my side for 4 hrs.  We never have a dull moment, and lots of laughs!  She is great, and I am once again, extremely blessed!  After we are done... Columbus, and Chemo = shopping to me!   Ben doesn't argue, b/c that is a lost cause after Chemo... I mean really.  :) 

So we hit a few places, and happen to be in a small shop in Gahanna Creekside,  I ran in to look at an OSU scarf that I thought might work for my soon to be balding head.... football season is almost here, just looking ahead.  And when I went in a bracelet in the case caught my eye.  It was the only one like it.  It was a cuff that had the breast cancer ribbon on one side.  (very small, and almost not noticeable  And on the other side it had  a different design.  I ask the sales gal if she could get it out, and as she did she told me that the sides were changeable, and this was the last one like this, but of course they could order more.  I ask her what the other side design was on the bracelet.  She took it out, looked it over and said, this one has the breast cancer ribbon on one side, (yes, I said, I see that...what about the other side?)  She continued, it is a letter  "J" and the symbol of a butterfly, meaning : LIFE.   I got tears in my eyes.  Ben was ready to buy.  I simple looked up at this sweet gal and said, I want this when my treatment is finished... not yet... can we order in say... February?  She now had tears in her eyes.  "My pleasure she said... Mrs... ?"     "Jump, I say, with a  "J".    Perfect.  It will be worth the wait.   I don't mind telling you that I believe those encounters are NOT by chance.  I have them all the time, and I look up to God and thank him, for helping me down this path, that has been rough, and at times unbearable.  But I have turned the corner and the light and love I have inside me beams.  It is real, and it will see me though this. 

The next night  I had to shave my head.  The hair was now everywhere but in my head, and I called on my great friend Beth to do the honors.  I suppose this might have been a hard thing to do - before- everything else.  But, I can honestly say it wasn't.  We were surrounded by family, friends, neighbors, and children.  We set a chair outside on the front porch.  As if to say, cancer you can take my hair, but not my heart.  Bella and Davidson got to tie ribbons and trim their own pieces.  They thought it was special, and Bella was sooo excited to trim !  We got the idea from a great book we have been reading called  " The Good Bye Cancer Garden"   This was our version of the head shaving party.  Then every other kid in the neighborhood got there chance to cut.  They were so excited, and happy.  A little cut, then off on their bike.  Simple, good, normal.  Just like summer should be.  I suppose seeing it through their little eyes and not mine looking back at me in a mirror as it might normally be was the biggest BLESSING of all.  My parents took pictures of my bald brother and me arm-in-arm.  It was good.  It was better than good.  It was done.  Beth was strong, and loving, and an angel.  I didn't shed a tear.  I had many hugs, kisses on my new head, and enough compliments to start believing I might never have long hair again.  It's just hair.  So, here I sit, looking a little GI Jane writing my overdue blog in bed.  A little tired, sure, but so happy I could jump out of my skin, b/c I know I have this beat.  I can feel it, You can see it.  Now I just need to power through the rest of this and remember who is on the journey with me.  Thank YOU GOD.

Today we WON the cancer Lotto!

I loved typing that title.  A win.  Yes, it was... and here is how it goes... I start by saying... this is a TRUE story.  And what a story it is. 
Yesterday, Wednesday, June 15,  I was scheduled to have a bone scan and a CT scan to insure the cancer had not spread.  Of course to have these tests ordered it meant the possibility was there, and I hated that.  I suppose I might have been living in what I call my "ugly fog" for a few days... the unknown.  Wednesday morning, 6:45am to be exact, I was in the basement of Riverside in Nuclear Medicine to have the IV started for the bone scan.  I have had a whole lot of IVs lately.  More than I can count, but none that went quite like this.  I should have known I was in for a treat when she said "wow, this is a big needle.. are you having another scan.. we don't usually use these huge needles for bone scans. "  Humm.. big clue Brett, but I just responded in my fog, "yes, I have a CT scan after this."   Did she need to tell me it was a big/huge needle?  Um, NO.  So, I turned my head away form my right arm... hoping she got what she needed.  I would love to say it was uneventful, but that was not the case.  I don't know what happened, but the next thing I knew, I had blood all over me, and needless to say the radioactive material as well.  Apparently, the IV didn't go as planned.  She cleaned me up, and then we quickly checked to see if any of the radioactive material went into my blood stream by standing in front of the scan.  Thank God it did and all looked ok.  The hospital closed the room I was in, hazmat put a huge tape X on the door b/c of the spill.  And to let me know how bad they felt for the issue, they gave us complimentary meals at the cafeteria!  Ha, that is my first comp'd meal I have ever had.  Unreal.  I wasn't mad, see I am just in that fog.  Just kept praying the test would be ok.  The rest of Wednesday was pretty smooth... considering... and I had the CT scan and bone scan and returned home,.. exhausted.  We were planning to have the results on Thursday, and would be meeting with Dr. Lilly in the afternoon.
At 10:23pm Wednesday night Dr. Lilly called me on my cell phone.  He ask to have Ben on the phone.  He told us he had the results of the tests and the CT scan came back clear.  OH - huge breath, relief, I started to breath deeply... what about the bone scan..??? He went on to say the bone scan had shown something that needed to be ruled out- a spot- on my right femur.  SHIT.. really ... oh, I had some hip pain while doing boot camp in February... I ask Dr. Lilly -- do you think that could be related?  He said does it hurt now, and I told him no.  He said that was a good  sign, but we really needed to do an Xray tomorrow morning to see what we are dealing with.  The Xray was scheduled for 10am, I had Genetic counseling at 11, and then I would meet with Dr. Lilly at 12:noon to discuss the results of the Xray and see if an MRI was needed.  We hung up.  Not sure Ben slept a wink.  I was in my fog. 
This morning, we got our sweet kiddos off to VBS, and headed to the hospital again.  We got to drive past St. Edwards and see all the kids and the wonderful volunteers... I knew most of them ... and wanted so much to be one of them today.  I bit my check.  Enough with the waterworks.  I needed to pull it together.  Got to Riverside and saw a happy family leaving with a beautiful baby boy.  Wow, didn't see that coming... I had my moment.  I cried it out.  Pulled it together, and got my X ray out of the way.. (or so I thought) Then on to Genetic Counseling, and finally met up with Ben in Dr. Lilly's office.  They called me back quickly.  They told me that the xray I had 2hrs. prior didn't get all the info.  They didn't get the whole femur.  Good Lord!  I am so short, I don't have a long femur.. what did she miss!  So, we ran, and when I say ran... literally ran to radiology, got the new Xray and returned to Dr. Lilly's office.  (All located in Riverside Hospital, thank you God)  And by the time I got back to Dr. Lilly's he was waiting for us.  He took us back and said very calmly... The X rays are clear.
The X rays are clear..... Ben and I look at each other - OK I say, that is good right... Dr. Lilly looks puzzled.  He has had two Radiologists look at the bone scan.  There is a mass on the bone scan, and the only thing they can attribute this to is some kind of "contamination" b/c there is NOTHING on the xray.  OMG I say... I had my clothes on during the bone scan!  I looked at Dr. Lilly, and explained the spilling of the material in Nuclear Medicine.  I didn't know if would have been on my pants, but it was all over the floor.  The IV was in my right arm and the femur is the right leg.  He left the room and went to call the Xray radiologist and the bone scan radiologist.  He returned 10minutes later and said,  yes, it looks like contamination.  You had your clothes on during the scan, but not on the Xray.  The bone scan picks up the radioactive material that collects... even if it is collected on my jeans.  UNREAL!  I grabbed Ben and we held each other, my God, this is good news.  We have gone through hell thinking the unthinkable again, but I am clean, I am clear, and I am out of my FOG!    Dr. Lilly said both radiologists agreed no further testing was needed, a bone scan would be performed in 3months.  (That is normal, in this case)  I am not sure I could write how good I felt at that moment.  It was like nothing I have felt ever.  Good news.  Really good news.  What is next,... Chemo, radiation, and MY LIFE.... that is what is next... my life back.  On our ride home Ben looked at me and said, " I feel like I just won the cancer Lotto!"  Indeed. 
Thank you for all your thoughts, and prayers, but mostly, thank you for taking care of you.  Hearing all of you that have gotten your mammograms, made appointments that were overdue, or just took the time to ck out your ta tas.  We are mothers, wives, daughters, friends, and we matter.  Take care friends.  I love you.

"You take the good, you take the bad, you take em both...."

All that goes thru my head as I write this post is that silly, (rather catchy) theme song to the Facts of Life TV show that used to be on... "You take the good, you take the bad, you take em both and there have the Facts of Life, the Facts of Life!"  You know the show, Blair, Tutie, Jo... it was a good one back in the day.  Well, the song sums it up for me.  I wish I could only blog good news... but when I started this I promised to share all details... and so, you take the good, you take the bad.  And as I have said WAY too many times this past month.  It is what it is.  I suppose that is why it is a bit hard to blog today, there is good, and there is bad.  I hope as you read this you feel the good.  And know the good will prevail.  I truly feel that way. 
Friday June 3rd came and went as a beautiful day.  The village of Granville was filled, and I mean filled with pink balloons and signs.  It still makes me cry as I write this.  It was the most amazing, unreal, lift to my spirit and I am still taken back by my ride into Riverside on that sunny afternoon.  I told everyone I had the pleasure to see about it.  My nurse, the drs., even Chase the attending who got to wheel me to the OR.  It moved everyone.  My favorite sign read " Hey Cancer, you picked the wrong Chick!"   It was one of the last things I said as I went under.   The surgery was 4 hrs.  It was a successful surgery as they removed the tumor with clear margins.  And more importantly, I got to wake up and see my beautiful family once again.  That is success for me.  I awoke asking the questions I had wanted to know now since they diagnosed me... Was it in my lymph nodes?  Dr. Lilly explained it was.  The sentinel node biopsy came back positive for cancer, meaning it had spread to my nodes.  I was shocked.   But, we would have to wait until Wed. for the full pathology report to know more.  How many? I thought... but again, I was so happy to have the surgery behind me... I started to actually do what I had been telling myself to do... LIVE TODAY... so June 3rd.  I started to work on my LIVE today, one step at a time.  It worked.  I felt remarkable well.  A mastectomy is no walk in the park, but I really was feeling better every day.  By the time I returned home Sunday I was able to take walks around the neighborhood, and sleep in my own bed.  I was and still am amazed at the healing process.  Tuesday night Dr. Lilly called, pathology was back and he ask to speak to Ben and I both on the phone.  I can't say I was happy with the news.  But, it is, what it is.  He explained that what they had originally thought were two tumors, were instead one.  It was larger than they had thought at 3.2 cm.  Basically the two were connected if that gives you a better visual.  It was good to hear it was removed with clear margins, meaning healthy breast tissue around the tumor.  The right breast had no cancer, this is what we knew, but it was still good to hear.  Now the lymph node news...Dr. Lilly took 30 from my left arm pit area, out of those 5 tested positive for Cancer.  This is the news I didn't want to hear.  So, I say this is why Cancer is a ride you never want to get on.  You think you know what is going on, then it changes.  It plays on your weakest emotions, and for that I hate it.  But, it is, what it is.  So, it puts me at Stage 3a.   Don't start looking up the statistics... don't put yourself in a state of anger I tell myself.    I have to admit, I am not sure I even cried.  Until much later.  We hung up the phone and prayed.  And I felt an amazing sense of peace.   Ben looked at me and said, it is all out.  They got it.  Now we just move forward and do the chemo, and now radiation.  You can do this.    You bet I can, and I will.  I feel great.  I am amazed at how great I feel.  My drains (all 4 of them) look good.  I need to Live today. 
On Thursday we drove into Columbus for my post opp apt. with Dr. Treece, my plastic surgeon.   He was so pleased with my recovery.  He said I looked great, and then much to our surprise he removed all 4 drains.  I was so happy.  We knew I might have these up to a month... so to have them out so soon was just amazing.  It hadn't even been a wk.  I have an amazing HEALTHY body and it is working!  I was so happy leaving his office (and my 4 drains behind) that I think I could have walked home!   I had won.  Even if it was my drains... I won.  Moving forward... getting healthy.  That was a great feeling. 
There are a lot of little wins along the way.  I think it is a win every morning I get to wake up and see my family.  We are blessed.  I went to Church on Sunday.  It was just what I needed.   As I start this week I think of my additional testing and bone scans I have scheduled on Wednesday.  I feel so angry I have to do these tests now.  I hate thinking it could be somewhere else.  But, on the flip side I feel so happy with my body, seems so ironic, I am doing so well, and feeling so well.  How could anything really be there.  I pray all the Cancer is gone from my body.  And so, I need to LIVE today.  And guess what... so do YOU! :) Love you all so very, very much. 

Please pass the mustard!

So, tomorrow is the big day, I am not going to candy-coat that...it has been a tough couple wks. ...of waiting..  Some days I almost pretend I don't have cancer.  Last Sunday Ben and I went out together, and had a "no cancer" day shopping.  It worked...most the time.  Except for that pit in my stomach, or the look I get from friends we run into.  I finally said to someone the other day.  I sware... I am going to be ok!!!  I am sure I know how they feel... I recall being on the other side of this... not knowing what to say, crying like a baby b/c it was just heartbreaking.  Now, it is me. So, I get it, I have been you... and I frankly wish I was you... holding my hand, sending me cards, praying, loving, laughing... being a friend.  There are no words that can express how blessed I feel to have so many many people who care soo stinking much!  It is overwhelming, and makes me ... well, cry like a baby.  And that is just fine. 
Most of you that know me know- I am a mom, first and foremost.  It defines me.  It always has.  In college, I was voted most likely to be the best mom.  You know why I remember that... b/c even back then I was proud of it.  So, you can only imagine how it feels to answer the Doctors and Nurses when they ask me "Do you have any children?  How old are they?"   I normally take a slow breath, then answer..." seven and four."  And no matter how many times I have answered this question ... I just can't make it to " four" without my voice cracking and a tear.  I noticed at my latest visit- pre-admission testing... I saw where  they were going with the questions, and I started to tear b/4 they ask.  I can take the Cancer. (I didn't say I wanted it, I said I could take it... meaning I am going to kick the shit out of it.)  I can take the mastectomy... the chemo, loosing my hair... (again, didn't say I wanted it... but it gives me my life back)  But,  what is the hardest.. it is the kids.   We talked to the kids to let them know I was having surgery.  The Cancer word was NOT part of the conversation.  Our seven yr old is wise beyond his years, and of course is my sensitive one.  Again, worry, concern for mom is NOT anything I want for him.  I want him to run in the slip and slide, and have fun with his buddies.  Our four yr old is silly, and sweet, she is young, and carefree.   We explained Mommy wouldn't be able to do some of the things they are used too.  I can't hug, I can't drive for a while, I will need their help.  And I can't lift them.   Bella our four year old looked stunned... "can't pick me up" she said?  No, I explained... I can't lift much at all... it has to be really light.  She looked at me confused?  What about the mustard she said..... What?  Is she for-real I am thinking... Mustard?  Yes, she said, mustard.  I reassured her that mustard was on the yes list, and I could lift the mustard.  But Ben and I looked at each other and laughed.  Even my sensitive 7 yr old shook his head and giggled at her.  Kids are great.  Tonight, Davidson our 7 yr old ask me if I will be able to go to the store after the surgery.  I ask him why?  He said, well, to get the things that we need.  And I said, well, not right away.  Then he went on to tell me, well, if you go, I will go with you and carry your purse, b/c mom, your purse is heavy and you shouldn't lift it.  Very touching.  Of course before the Chemo we will dive into the Cancer word with them both.  But, if there is anything I have learned from this past month... it is one step at a time.  Feels like I have traveled and taken many, many steps already with this disease, but tomorrow really is my first step in fighting it.  I feel blessed, I feel loved, I feel amazed, and lifted up.  Ben will post tomorrow- good news after surgery.  Until then my friends hold each other, love each other, and keep praying.  xoxoxo (and go get your mammogram)

God has a plan... didn't know my plan included implants!

Yesterday was my apt. at the Plastic Surgeon.  Wow, another sentence I never thought  I would write.  I was a bit relieved I have to admit because it was our first apt. that was NOT  located in the Hospital.  And because I knew they wouldn't have any bad news to report.  We walked in and they had creams and makeup on glass shelves.  The ladies at the desk walked over to me to fill out some info.  (she had 4inch heals on I am not kidding).  I felt like I should be shopping.  I started to feel kind of normal... until I got to the part on the info sheet where you ck off what you have or had in the past.... I am so used to just barely reading it, since I have had no surgeries, no medical problems, etc.  Then I saw it said Cancer.  Shit.  I have to ck that box.  Shit.  I think I almost broke the pen as I ck'd the box.  That is the first time since I have been diagnosed that I had to write I have cancer.  It is reality.  I handed in my Info sheets, and was called back to discuss (as Ben refers to it)  "my new rack".   He cracks me up, and frankly in this reality we wake up to every morning I need a little laughter.  So, they ask me to put on a gown.  It is so not a gown.  I start laughing.  It is like a crop top.  Now I know I am in a Plastics office.  Not like any gown I have ever been offered.  This is made from that paper stuff at your Gyno's office, but I sware it is a crop top.  I laughed so hard.  Ben took a picture of me in it, just so we could laugh about it later.  I am sitting down in the picture, b/c if I stood up it would be like a half shirt.  But, Pink is my favorite color, so I was happy.  It's the little things.
Dr. Treece is my plastic surgeon.  He is wonderful.  He has been working with Dr. Lilly for 19yrs.  So once Dr. Lilly is finished with the mastectomy, Dr. Treece inserts these expander things.  They are like boobs that don't have anything in them yet.  Each month Dr. Treece inserts saline in them through a needle.  Crazy.  Like "blossoming" over the summer.   Kind of reminds me of my 8th grade year.  Bad joke. Sorry.  Dr. Treece then sees me later in the fall and does the final implants.  Who knew? Me implants!  Everyone says God has a plan... didn't know my plan included implants!
I wake up every morning thankful that I am here on this earth.  I can't help but look at things differently.  I feel like each person in my life is reaching out to me and holding me up.  At every turn, I feel it.  So, the office visit was different, new, scary.  But with the support and love of everyone I can laugh, cry and push through this.  Thank you.  Doesn't seem enough to say those two little words. But for now... Thank you. 

June 3, 2011- date set! Let's do this!

So the date is set- June 3rd, 2011- I am scheduled for Bilateral Mastectomy surgery.  That is a sentence I never thought I would write.  Or feel like I do about writing it.  The date is one we had on our calendar to leave for our annual Family (extended family, grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc.) vacation.  My favorite  vacation, it consists of beach, sun, relaxing, laughing and basically enjoying the most important things in life- family.  I told the doctor's office this was a good date. It made sense.  We already had schedules cleared, vacation off work, etc.  For everyone in the family, not just Ben.  It was a perfect date.  She said "perfect? really? instead of vacation"  And I then I told her I want MANY, MANY more years at 'our beach' so I think this is the perfect date.  And so it is.

Today was a win for me!

Well, today was a good day.  But since this is my first blog, I will start from the beginning....
It all started a couple wks ago when I felt a small (0.5 cm) "bump" in my breast.  I called it a bump from the beginning b/c I was sure that if I used the word lump it might actually be something bad, or even something like Cancer.  So, I called my dr's office... FYI, even if you call it a bump, they refer to it as a lump, and they get you in the next day.  My dr. couldn't feel it.  She sent me for an ultrasound.  The first ultrasound showed nothing in my right breast.  But, it did show the mass I was feeling in my left, and they then scheduled a biopsy for the next day.  I knew right then and there that was not a good sign.  So, I called my OBGYN from Riverside that delivered both my sweet babies, and talked to her.  She immediately called the hospital where I had the ultrasound and got my results.  That night after hours she contacted Dr. Larry Lilly at Riverside Hospital and got my in to see him the next morning.  This was my turning point.  Dr. Lilly is amazing.  He saw me in the morning, sent me for an ultrasound, mammogram, and core biopsy.  He also could not feel my "bump" but, he said we needed all the info.  That day we left Riverside with the news I had Breast Cancer.  Here Ben and I sat holding hands listening to the Radiologist tell us I had two masses they took cells from.  One was the one I had felt and another one deeper in the same spot.  But not connected.  The right breast looked fine.  It was devastating.  We cried, we prayed.  I got dressed and we drove home.    That night we had calling hours for Ben's Grandma.  
At that time, we were still awaiting the final biopsy report.  This was key in knowing if both masses were cancer, what kind, what grade?  The news came the next day Friday May 13.  Dr. Lilly called and told us yes, both masses were cancer.  Of course with this came the grade, and the hormone information, and our news that treatment would include mastectomy and chemo.  I call this the moment I lost it.   How could this be happening  to me?  Are you kidding me?  when am I going to wake up?  I am a good girl, don't smoke, don't drink (well, not a lot) , work out, HAVE NO FAMILY HISTORY, and am 35 yrs young! WTF? !!! 
Didn't sleep that night.  At all.  He scheduled my MRI for Saturday.   MRI to insure we know everything we are dealing with, no more surprises.   My Angel, Dr. Vicki Miller (that's my OB) met me at the apt.  at Riverside.  She didn't need to, but she knew I needed the support.  Stayed with me for 2 hrs.  She walked me through the whole thing, sat there, smiling.  
They don't read MRIs over the weekend.  I would wait until today. 
We went to church on Sunday.  It was hard.  It was worth it.  What amazing support. 
So today... My win... We were praying the lymph nodes were not involved.  If they were they would stage the cancer to stage 2.  The ultrasound and the mammogram showed that they were not enlarged, so we were encouraged, but still worried.  I got the phone call this morning from Dr. Lilly.  They had found two additional areas of concern.  I couldn't breath.  They wanted me to come ASAP to have the one biopsied b/c it was on the right breast.  I had a core biopsy on the right breast this morning.  The good news is Dr. Lilly and the radiologist believes these to be small, and doesn't change my treatment.  He also told us today that he thinks it be only a 10% chance that the nodes are involved, and that means ..... it is only in the breasts.  That puts me at a Stage 1.  He won't know for sure until the surgery, but I was happy for that news.  The prayers are working.  This is a win. 
We are scheduling the surgery and looking at the first wk of June.  Chemo will start 6 wks after surgery and will go on for 5 months.  Long road.  But I can take it.  I will be happy to, as long as I am still on this earth!  God Bless all my friends and family for lifting me up at this time of need.  It is really the unthinkable.  I feel blessed to find my bump.  If it would have not been found until my mammogram in 5 yrs, I would have been looking at a very different prognosis.  That is unthinkable.  I am blessed to find this.  I am blessed to be with Dr.s that have put my case as their priority.  I feel like an angel is watching over me.  
Many of you are my age... have you had a mammogram, if not, call today, schedule -- pay for it if you have to, the simple fact is it is worth it. Don't put it off one day.  I know you are busy, not too busy to save your life.
I am exhausted today, and need to turn in, but I just want you all to know you are keeping me going.  You are keeping my family going.  My parents set their laptop out y'day all day and watched and cried together reading all your wonderful words.  From laughs to cries, aren't we lucky our paths crossed.  I think so.  I think we are incredibly lucky. Keep praying., love each other, and get your tatas checked! xoxxox