A Great Day

Shutterfly...

2010-11-23T10:39:00.000-08:00

How could it possibly be two days away from Thanksgiving? And how can it be that I have not posted anything since June? I guess I have been too busy ... LIVING!

Life is a whirlwind these days -- kids, travel, school, exercise, work, social life. I will have to take some time to reflect sometime soon. That's what the end of the year is all about -- for me anyway. Reflecting on all that has happened. What a difference a year makes.

I find that the more stressed I am and the busier I am, the deeper I dive in to my Mac, and the more Shutterflying I do. In the last week, I have made countless numbers of photo books on Shutterfly. Every promo code gets used in my house! I have so many years of my life archived on the Shutterfly site. And I love that at any given moment I can find a photo and in one click have it printed out.

As I started working on my end of year photo book that I do every year, I was surprised. When I look at January, the first album of the year was entitled "2010_01_Last chemo" and there I was wearing my long haired wig, hanging out my BFF Satchel at my last chemo session. That seems like a million years ago. Then, as I go through the spring, I see all of these photos of me with my various wigs on. I am not the biggest fan of how I have looked this year, but I have had such amazing memories. And as my mother lectured me, "It's not how you look in the photo -- the fact that you are IN the photo is what's important." I looked back at the photo books I made for me and my husband's trip to Napa, our family trip to the beach, our romantic get-away to Paris, the smiles of my kids and our friends, parties, and life, and while I do notice the crazy hair styles and the puffy face I've donned this year, the most important thing I notice is my smile. I am happy, healthy, surrounded by my husband, my amazing kids, my wonderful family and my fantastic friends. I'm in love with my life and I have a lot to smile about! And one day I will look back at those photo books and snapshots and all of this cancer and hair obsession will be a distant memory.

I'm thankful for Shutterfly -- because they have helped me capture all of my fun memories, and have given me a happy place to dive in to when life gets too stressful!

Much more to write and catch up on-- but for now I have to go finish up my projects on Shutterfly! Christmas is right around the corner and it's gonna be a Shutterfly holiday!

A Scare, A Deep Breath, and Guided Hands...

2010-06-26T03:21:00.000-07:00

Life is full of tests, trials, reminders and, and, as I have been keenly aware of for the last two years, guided hands. A few weeks ago, I was trying my best to decelerate back to a "normal" pace of life after a few months of intense crunch time at work. After coming home from a big sales conference that my company hosted, and I helped manage, I was consumed with the after math of a week of my colleagues' endless comments about my "chic" and "sassy" and dramatic hair cut. And the curls -- oh the curls. I was baffled and confused that so many people forgot that last year I had donned the same micro pixie, which was dramatically different from the long, flowing, think brunette mane that I had for decades.

My trainer sent me an article, and as I read the words, I had to remind myself that I had not written them myself. I had been digging deep, and appreciating the fact that, albeit very difficult, I was not my hair. And my hair is not what makes me a devoted mom, a loving wife, and a true friend. Here is the article -- it's a good read with many parallels, however I have not had the courage to quit corporate life and follow my bliss. Perhaps I'm still trying to figure out what that bliss is. I think about it all the time, and ponder life via day dreams, especially with my girl Rose often times we are in the car traveling to our corporate jobs. But find that I have had far too many other distractions, and my life as a marketing manager, albeit hectic, is a good, stable part of who I am and who I have become in my last 16 years in the corporate rat race. Let's not forget, also, that the insurance from this stable spot in the working world has paid for half a million dollars of medical coverage for the drama that has been my life the last two years. It's my security blanket in so many ways. And the fact that I can meet the bus every day and work from my kitchen in my gym clothes is a bonus that I give thanks for *most* days.

As I took a week to take a deep breath after months of hard work, I was elated with life. I felt accomplished, happy, and stress free. Finally, after continuous chaos, life was good, and I was enjoying every minute of it. I am a big anniversary date kind of gal, and this time of year is a little unnerving for me. It was this time of year two years ago when I heard the words "The mass is malignant." And it was this time last year when I heard the words "The cancer is back. I don't know what to say." July 2, 2008 and July 10, 2009 are my "cancerversaries" -- so pardon me if paranoia sets in just as summer kicks off.

That Thursday evening, I checked my calendar and was reminded of the upcoming appointment with my plastic surgeon to have my second nipple tattoo -- I was two months away from having perfect, small, pink nipples, and finally would be put back together again. I dreamed of these crazy curly locks grown out, and cancer way in the rear view mirror of my life. I even had a conversation with myself and said, "I am not going to touch my breasts until after we get back from Paris in the fall. I have so many fun things planned. Life is good. And I am savoring every minute of my drama free existence." But those of you who know me personally know that I am way too curious and not a woman who can appreciate or handle surprises with grace. So, before I knew it, I was touching my right breast ... poking around and ensuring that everything was smooth as silk. Until, the lump. The tiny little hard knot. Quickly my hand flew away from my breast. Then, I had to feel it again to make sure I was not losing my mind. My heart skipped a beat and before I knew it I went outside to our new patio where my husband was working on our new grill. "What's wrong? You look freaked out." he asked. "Oh nothing. Well OK, I felt something. Can you feel it?" He did. Rats -- I'm not just being paranoid. "I'm sure it's nothing but you should call the doctor in the morning." No. No. No. Tell me this isn't happening.

The next morning was the first grade end of year picnic that I was volunteering at. After the kids were dropped off, I found my fingers dialing the number of my dear friend who lives down the street, who is also a pink sister in survival, and had a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction two years ago as well. "Hi! What's up!" she answered the phone. Tears streamed down my face and I could not even utter a word. "Hello?" she said. My quivering voice replied, "I feel something in my breast. I know we have to get to the school." "Come over NOW," she demanded, and before I knew it I was in her home office, with my shirt off, a sharpie pen pinpointing the lump, and her hand on my breast. I could tell by the look on her face that she felt it too. Our breast cancer surgeons are partners, and she thought I needed to get in ASAP. Now I was scared. Nobody was telling me not to worry. The pit in my stomach grew stronger and tears started to fall. Tell me this isn't happening. Then, as she started feeling her own breasts, she said, "Wait, I feel something on mine?" Oh! That is such great news! What made me feel better made her feel worse. As we headed off to the school party, we left frantic messages for our surgeons and headed off to the school picnic. As we watched the adorable first graders hoola hood and jump rope, I got a call from my other 30-something, mom of two young kids, pink sister in survival who recently had her implant exchange surgery after her bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction, chemo, and radiation. Turns out she had an open would and possible infection and had just visited her plastic surgeon who was not pleased with what she saw. Just when she thought she was at the final leg of the race she, too, was blindsided with a curve ball. It was on the black top that morning that I realized that me and these ladies had a life long bond. That when shit hits the fan, we get out our "Bat phones" and call each other for an ear, a hug, a touch, or a vent. We are connected by the pink ribbon, and take turns being angels for one another. It's so upsetting because that morning, we should have been enjoying our first graders, not wondering if the dark cloud of cancer or losing a breast, again, was looming overhead. I keep saying things happen for a reason...and one day we'll know what that is.

I heard from my surgeon and since it was already Friday and my surgeon was off, I could not get in until Monday, and found myself grateful for my busy suburban life and weekend plans that focused on my kids and family and friends, and less about the lump.

Monday morning could not get here fast enough, and it was great to see my surgeon. Not only do I trust her with my life, but I really like her as a person. I could not wait to hear the " You are being silly" diagnosis from her. Instead, she felt my lump and said, "One minute, let me get the ultrasound." Gulp. As she moved the wand over my breast, the black mass appeared on the screen and the look of concern grew on her face. No! Why can't I just be paranoid? Why do I have to be right about these things?! "There is a mass. Here's the thing...everything looks the same on an ultrasound -- scar tissue, recurrence, and a million other things. Last year I thought it was nothing and I was wrong, so this year I'm going to keep my mouth shut until we are proven it's nothing. None of us will have peace of mind until we cut this out."

As the salty tear fell down my cheek, I said, with a trembling voice, "Surgery? OK, let's do it. Can you do it tomorrow?" I said, half joking but dead serious. As she glanced down at her computer pad, she said, "I'll squeeze you in on Wednesday morning." She gave me a hug and said, "We will just have to wait and see and hope for the best."

I could not get out of there fast enough before the tears fell. Tell me this is not happening! What the F*CK! You have GOT TO BE F'ing kidding me. I tried not to tell my friends, but I wear my fear on my sleeve, and I am surrounded by so many people who love me. I realized more than ever that this has not been my journey alone. I may be the one with the scars, the awful curly short doo, and the physical transformation. But my family and friends have been with me every step of the way. And there was no way this was happening to US all for the third time in a row.

I had called my friend earlier to ask if she could take O to the bus on Wednesday morning so I could get to the hospital with my husband for my morning surgery. Then, on Tuesday morning, I got a terrifying call from her. "My sister-in-law will be here in the morning for the bus, and O is welcome to still come over. I got squeezed in today and my lump is suspicious as well. My surgery is tomorrow morning as well." You have got to be kidding me. What are the odds? Isn't this why we had bilateral mastectomies in the first place?

That night, I had a long talk with one of my lifelong friends, Lew. We talked, and we prayed. Suddenly I had peace and clarity. I am a Christian. If I am truly a Christian, then I need to have faith in the Divine Plan. When life presents us with challenges, we need to realize that we can only do so much...that ultimately we do not have control. Faith. That is why we call it faith. The next morning I woke up with peace in my heart, knowing whatever the outcome that I would be OK...because it's all part of The Plan. And it's all happening for some divine reason.

Crazy as this sounds, but heading to the hospital for another surgery did not phase me. I now know some of the nursing staff and it's more of, "Oh hi! Great to see you!" instead of "Oh no, what is going to happen to me." As they opened my door, I saw my neighbor unconscious being wheeled down the hall to recovery. Now, that was weird. I was hoping and praying that all went well with her surgery. I kissed my husband good-bye, and before I knew it I woke up with him by my side. Surgery is easy for the patient, and tough for those in the waiting room.

I was in a post-anesthesia haze, offering loving praise for my surgeon, according to my husband. She didn't want to tell me this in advance, but she had arranged for a pathologist to be in the OR, and they did a frozen section right then and there. "There's a 90% chance it's not cancer. They didn't see anything in the frozen section." Praise God! I knew then in my heart I was going to be OK. Less than 24 hours later, I got the call with the good news. It was my surgeon's nurse who I've grown close with. "I just saw your results and had to call you right away. It's NOT cancer! You are fine!" Hallelujah! Then, I heard a few hours later that my friend's pathology came out benign as well. Phew. Sigh of relief. Deep breath.

This surgery was a breeze. I was a little concerned that due to the fact this was my fourth surgery in less than two years, and that less than a year ago I had 35 high dose radiation treatments that it would not heal well. Fortunately that was not the case. I am very grateful for my body, and how resilient it is to the brutal attacks it has undergone at such a young age. I may hate the way I look right now but I am once again proud of my body and am so glad I'm alive and well.

Aside from my direct boss, I did not tell anyone at work about my surgery. No need to get everyone involved in the drama. Two days after my surgery, before we left for the beach, I spoke with one of my coworkers. Ant, a full-of-life 54 year old has been a dear friend on my team for nearly six years. I told him about my recent drama, and we had a chat about vacations, and ended up talking about how life is short, and how you have to live fully and enjoy it. Last year he was in an ATV accident around the time I was going through chemo. We both had perspective, and were both lucky to have second chances at life. Early on the fourth of July, I got a call from my other coworker. Turns out, my friend Ant was on a motorcycle with his girlfriend the night before, and after going around a sharp turn, hit a Volvo head on. His girlfriend flipped over and hit the windshield. Thank God, she was OK. Ant thought he had broken his hip. Turns out, he crushed his pelvis, and that caused internal bleeding. He died on the fourth of July. He was doing what he loves most, riding his Harley, with the woman he loved the most, on the day that he loved the most. He was living life to the fullest.

I have had a few chats with Ant since I heard the news. First, I was in shock and did not believe the news. Then, after I saw the hundreds of Facebook posts on his wall, I cried. Then, I got mad at him, and remember telling him last year to please act his age and stop riding ATVs and motorcycles. I recall him saying, "Not a chance." I had peace in knowing that he lived his life. And whether it's cancer or a motorcycle or a benign lump or whatever...you just don't know when your time will be. It's a good reminder that every day is an opportunity to do something kind for people...leave a legacy of hope and happiness. Life is short. Live well. Be happy. Be grateful. Give thanks.

Needless to say, the last three weeks have been a whirlwind. The last two years have been life changing. As I near my thirty-eighth birthday, I am more grateful than ever before. I have two healthy, beautiful children. I have a loving husband and the most amazing family a girl could ask for. I have the best circle of friends that have brought smiles to my face in the darkest times. I have a home, a good job, health insurance, and a team of the top specialists looking out for me at every turn. Life is full of blessings and I will try with everything I have to not lose the perspective I have earned.

There are so many people that have touched my life, and now I'm realizing how many people's lives I've touched. I'm not sure where this life will lead me or what I will do with all that I have learned in the last two years, but when the time is right, I know it will be made known to me.

In the mean time, I have packed away my wigs, scarves, hats, and I am going to enjoy my summer, my family, my friends, my life.

I'll report back from time to time. After all there are women out there who need to know how the nipples turn out. And how the hair turns out. And, if I actually fit in to my goal jeans by Paris.

Be happy. Tell someone you love how much they mean to you. Give thanks. Pay it forward. Do a random act of kindness from time to time. Keep the faith. And live each day to the fullest...

xoxo

All About the Nipple...

2010-05-26T04:54:00.000-07:00

Life has been a whirlwind in the best, normal, suburban way. Cancer is far from my daily thoughts, and life has been focused on my kids, my husband, my family, working out nearly every day, hanging out with friends, and work. My energy level has been high, and there are days when it's hard to believe that just under 5 months ago I finished my last chemo. I said I wasn't going to blog until June 1, but given my latest adventure, I could not wait to get this out of my head...so here goes.

Warning, this is all about nipples, so if you are curious, read on. If you know me too well and don't want to know TMI about my breast reconstruction, close now. I gotta get this out...consider yourself warned.

After a bi-lateral mastectomy with expanders, an implant exchange surgery with silicone implants, another partial mastectomy and 35 rounds of radiation, thanks to the pesky local recurrence, my poor boobs have been through so much over the last 20 months. But again, my strong body has been resilient and the healing has been amazing. In clothes, bras, swim suits, and dresses, my breasts look great. They are perky, round, and allow me to enjoy the benefit of walking around sans bra most of the time.

I often get comments like, "Well the silver lining of breast cancer is you have great boobs." That's all relative. Yes, they look great in clothes. Yes, they are perky. Yes, it's great to not have to wear a bra. But, they are scarred and are missing something very essential...a nipple. After all I have been through, the lack of nipples seems insignificant, but now that I'm feeling well and not thinking about cancer much, I am ready to have the final stage of reconstruction...I'm ready for some nipples.

Many survivors would say after all the surgery and radiation, the last thing they want to do is have more surgery and more pain. It's a very personal decision. I was seriously considering getting a 3-D tattoo versus the surgery, but after a long consult with my plastic surgeon and long conversations with my husband, I decided to go for it. I am ready to take my "Barbie boobs" all the way to the end of reconstruction.

There are many ways to reconstruct nipples, but there is such little information out there. I turned to Dr. Google and was having a hard time understanding the full scope of this undertaking. So, I decided that I have full trust in my skilled plastic surgeon. She helped save my life--and my breasts--so I put my complete trust in her gifted hands. I did not realize it would be a painful four month process. I am keeping my eye on the prize, and despite a few tears and moment of feeling like humpty dumpty, I know that my queen's horses and my queen's women will put me back together again.

The process, as I understand it, requires multiple stages. First, I get a funky half-star shaped tattoo. Then, 4 weeks later, I will get another tattoo treatment. Once she is happy with the color, I will go in to the OR where she will turn the half star in to a nipple. Then, about 4 weeks after that, I will go in for 2 more tattoo treatments to create the circle --- aka the aereola. OK, that all seems do-able. I was not really expecting it to hurt...or to open a box of emotions that I had carefully tucked away.

The night before my appointment, my husband and I were watching TV and I grabbed the Mac and turned to Dr. Google. If I am going to get brand new nipples, I needed to do my research. I first Googled breast nipple reconstruction, and quite frankly those images were very discouraging. So, I decided to Google "boobs." Well, that just brought up some nasty porn sites (which, by the way, made me scared for all the kids out there who have unsupervised access to the internet!) So, I turned to the old stand by...I went to playboy.com. "Honey, what do you think?" I am sure it's a little awkward nipple browsing with your wife, but if you are going to get new nipples, why not pick ones that you want?! It's amazing how many different colors, shapes and sizes of nipples there are out there.

It was great to see the staff at my plastic surgeon's office. I was called back by the friendly nurse, and the first step in the process was selecting the color. Seems pretty easy, right? I'd like pink. Ha! I am a color mixer by nature. I mix paint colors for my house. I usually have at least 2-3 shades of lipstick on at any one time. And this was no different. She pulled out a color chart and we starting mixing up different colors and applying them on my skin. I felt like I was at the Mac counter at Nordstrom looking for the perfect lipcolor! Too light. Too dark. Too pink. Too coral. Too brown. How about we add a little of this with some of that and a bit of this with a smidge of that. My anxiety started running high at this point...I had no idea it would be so difficult! I told the nurse that I wanted to get my doctor's opinion, and she could tell I was getting a little overwhelmed. So, she handed me two small, round band aids. "Put these on your boobs where you think you'd like your nipples to be." Really? I want them perky. Right? That required standing in front of the mirror and using my imagination. That proved to be just as challenging. Rarely do I stare in the mirror at my boobs. Finally I stuck the band aids on and waited for the doctor to come in.

It is always great to see my plastic surgeon. She's a young, beautiful, tiny Asian woman who is an absolute perfectionist. She is so skilled but so loving. We have become very close over the last 20 months. She could tell I needed some help. "I trust you with my life, and now I trust you with my nipples. I know you will help me pick the perfect placement and the perfect color. My nipples are in your hands." It all sounds so funny. Nipple Nipple Nipple. Once she figured out where they would go, she got out her marking pen and drew the craziest little alien-shaped half star. I know she is the expert so I did not ask questions. But, I did take pictures. I spent hours Googling this and found nothing. So here it is. This is what will become my nipple some day. I am still confused but have full faith in my surgeon.

Once she was done marking, we went back to the color matching. After several minutes of mixing and matching and mixing, we came up with a great color. I watched her grab a big needle. "I am going to numb up your breasts -- lay down." Hmmm. Wasn't expecting shots. I closed my eyes and tried to get lost in the Josh Groban CD that was playing in the background. As she pierced my breasts over and over with the needle filled with numbing medicine, I winced and shut my eyes tighter and tighter, as if the tighter my eyes would shut would some how make the piercing needles hurt less. She could tell I was in pain, and seemed so elated. "OHHHHH, I see you have sensation in your breasts! That is great!" Uh, yes, I can see the silver lining here. I do have sensation in my breasts, which is a bonus for sure. It's also a testament to my skilled surgical team and my resilient body. But damn, this hurt. She left the room for about 10 minutes so the medicine could work. As I laid there, I gave myself a pep talk. This is the last step. I am cancer free. I will soon be done with all of this once and for all. I will have beautiful breasts. Eye on the prize. Final step. You can do this. You are the trail blazer for 15 of your young friends who are deciding whether to get nipples or not. Be strong. Mind over matter.

She came in 10 minutes later, and within 5 minutes she had filled in my alien-shaped symbol with ink. This has officially cured my craving for any type of tattoos! I was ready to get out of there.

I went to my mom's house to pick up Cookie, and as we sat in the park, I realized it was a lot more emotional than I was really expecting it to be. But as the sun shined, I watched my beautiful little girl laugh and giggle and scoot across the monkey bars with pride and ease, and I thanked God for my life. I am so blessed. My kids, family, and friends are such amazing gifts.

My breasts were very sore -- I could not tell whether it was from the shots or from the tattoos. But here, a day later, I am feeling much better. Inside out. As I tuck in my kids and say my prayers, I am humbled by the amazing life I have. I am still a little in shock at my reality. That at 37, I'm growing out my hair for the second time, and that I'm a two-time breast cancer survivor. It's just a little weird to have this reality that seems so unreal. I have such wonderful people in my life and know I'm stronger with each passing day. Some days it's hard to take a step back and take a deep breath, but I work on it every day. And not a day goes by that I don't stop, smell the roses, hug my family, and thank God. Yes, even if you are sore or tired or stressed...every day is A Great Day.

Nipples...stay tuned.

Ciao -- For Now...

2010-02-27T19:59:00.000-08:00

When I started blogging 18 months ago, I had no idea what a therapeutic healing tool it would be. It started as a way to communicate with my friends and family after my initial diagnosis and to keep everyone posted during my treatments. It turned in to way more than that. It has been a gift to me, and hopefully it will be a gift for my children to read years from now. I just went back and read entries from Scarlett's Journey, and earlier entries from A Great Day, and often times can't believe those are words that I wrote. And, quite frankly, can't believe any of this has happened to me. I wish more than anything I could wipe this all away and go back to July 1, 2008...the last day before I became a breast cancer patient. And now, a two-time breast cancer survivor. It's so hard to believe that this has really happened to me. To us.

The last two months since my final chemo treatment has been a lot of fun, for the most part. I have had great times with my family and friends, and life is good. Finally. I feel strong on the inside, and strong on the outside. But, I don't look like me, and that is really, really bothering me. I have been very vocal about the fact that I miss my hair. But I am finally ready to say out loud that I miss my old body, too. (On a side note, my peach fuzz is growing every day -- still only peach fuzz but at least I know it's growing back!)

A year ago, I joined a new gym and started working out regularly, and met a trainer that I have met with nearly weekly for the better part of a year. Last week she did the first workout we ever did together, and even with another surgery, 35 rounds of radiation, and 4 rounds of chemo, I'm so much stronger than I was a year ago. I feel strong, but I am finally determined to get my body back in shape.

The other day I was on the treadmill and had an a-ha moment. I have battled cancer twice now, and am ready to put that behind me. I often quoted "a dream is a goal with a plan and a deadline." Being a project manager at work, I tend to thrive with structure and a plan. The last two months since I finished chemo, I've been enjoying good times with family and friends. It's way too easy to fall in to a mindset that "I've been through all this crap, I'm going to drink and eat whatever I want because life is too short." But, that is no way to live a healthy life. It's time for a plan.

What I appreciate more than ever is that this body of mine has been through hell, and really deserves some focus and dedication to maximize good health. I am not going to do anything crazy or drastic, and I'm not going to go for the quick fix. Rather, I'm going to do my best to live life to the fullest, but spend the next two years getting myself back to optimal health.

My ultimate goal is to be fabulous, fit, and cancer-free on my fortieth birthday. That gives me a little over two years to work hard, but also enough time to enjoy life and have some fun! It's all about the 80/20 rule, and finding a balance between good health but enjoying life.

Goal? Check. Deadline? Check. Plan...working on it right now. Dream...will come true. It's times like this where being a competitive Type-A comes in handy. I owe this to myself. I owe it to my children. I owe it to my family and friends. When we were in college, my roommates and I had a weekly workout chart on the fridge. It had 5 smiley faces on it, and we had to cross off a smiley face with every workout. No wonder we were in great shape! I am actually writing down my fitness plan, and will have it out for anyone who wants to see. I will be accountable to this, not only to myself but to anyone who wants to keep me honest.

So, cancer, adios. I don't have time to worry about you anymore. Instead, I'm going to fuel my body, mind, and spirit with all things good to keep you out of my body. Out of my mind. Out of my heart. Out of my life. FOREVER.

To those of you who are my loved ones who have faithfully read my blogs, thank you for caring. Thank you for taking time to read what has been going on in my life and in my heart. For those of you I have never met, I hope I have touched you in some way, for there is a reason you stumbled upon this out in internet land.

With that, this is my final entry for a while. I will be enjoying life and focusing on optimal health. Wine, I will miss you in March, but will drink you again soon. To my family and friends, please continue to encourage me and love me. You mean the world to me and continue to uplift and inspire me every day. YOU are the reasons I have fought so hard. I love my life, and it's so worth fighting for.

Nothing tastes as good as feeling healthy. And nothing is more fun than fitting in to your skinny jeans. Mine are hanging in my closet, and I fully intend on wearing them in Paris this fall.

Love you all. Thanks for saving my life. And I look forward to fun, happy, healthy times ahead.

Monday, March 1st is the first day of the rest of my long, happy, healthy life. To keep myself accountable, I will post my progress on June 1, 2010. So, if you remember, or if you are curious, check back. I promise to give you an honest update! :-)

Ciao -- for now...

xoxo

Thankful...

2010-02-19T11:38:00.000-08:00

Life has been a whirlwind since returning to my cancer-free world. In my work world, I'm in my busy time, and it seems like I am finally in a groove. With the 30"+ of snow that fell recently, we had loads of fun times and togetherness with our family and neighbors. Please, spring...hurry up! We really need some sunshine!

A silver lining of going through cancer treatments for a second time in such a short time is the rare opportunity to leverage the hindsight and lessons learned from the first go-round. My family and friends have been through so much with me on this journey, and these last seven months have been hectic and emotional but with a powerful strength, confidence and closeness that was a true gift only received from experience. Last year at this time, I still had the roar of fear and cancer ringing in my head. I am convinced it was a sign to not let my guard down. Now, I am done with treatments and have an amazing sense of peace and tranquility that the cancer has been wiped from my body...and the fear has been erased from my soul.

When I was first diagnosed eighteen months ago, I did not ask, "Why me?" Instead I had faith that all of this was happening for a reason, and instead of questioning the Big Plan, I said that one day I would have an a-ha moment of clarity.

It seems that young women are coming out of the woodwork with new breast cancer diagnoses. They are not strangers I have met in a support group. They are not women that I have gone searching for. They are friends of friends...strangers in a waiting room...former colleagues. I find myself spending time with these women who have been diagnosed, and with a calm sense of confidence, I share my story, and I offer lessons learned. When I was first diagnosed I was alone. I did not know anyone else who had breast cancer, and along my journey I have met women who will forever be angels in my life.

Recently, I met up with one of my angels and a new member of the pink sisterhood for dinner. She was about to have a bi-lateral mastectomy with reconstruction, and will start chemo next month. The three of us spent over four hours at dinner, talking and laughing and sharing. The evening included a couple of trips to the bathroom. One trip, the three of us lifted up our shirts and showed the handy work of our skilled surgeons. I took off my wig and let her see my bald head, and she tried on my wig to get a sense of what it might be like to look different. Here we were in the bathroom like school girls, giggling and not caring who walked in as we played dress up. No longer were we strangers.

I got a call from a woman I had met in the waiting room at CW. She needed someone to talk to as she was about to shave her head, and wanted to know where I got my wig that she admired. After thirty minutes, she was no longer a stranger. Her tears turned to laughter, and she thanked me for being there for her.

The other day, I got an email from an old colleague who through a mutual friend found out about my journey, and told me about her diagnosis. As a mother of young children and a woman in the same profession, we talked and by the end of the call, we were connected. Her surgery went well and she just closed her email to me with, "Your words have really helped me."

I have not been to a formal support group, yet I have the most amazing support. I started writing down their names the other night, and there are 17 women that I consider my pink angels. Seventeen. Amazing. The youngest was 26 when she was diagnosed. Most are under 40. Why on earth are so many young women getting breast cancer? Am I more aware of it now that I have a pink ribbon myself? Or is it an epidemic that is getting out of control?

Whether I am the one in need of comforting, or the comforter, I am so blessed to have these women in my life. I have no idea about the day-in and day-out of their lives. But we have all been there for each other, and I find strength in all of them for different reasons. Whether it's hearing their words, or hearing myself speak and realizing how far I've come along on my journey, it's strength none the less.

Yesterday, my husband took me to the hospital for my port removal. He has taken me to so many appointments and procedures, and I am so grateful to see his beautiful face as I drift off to the OR. My favorite nurse happened to be working there, and we embraced like long lost BFFs! She knew me when I had long hair, has seen me with my short hair, and has smiled just the same as I donned my sassy scarf, concealing my bald head. You know it's bad when you personally know the staff at Interventional Radiology at the hospital! The procedure was a piece of cake, and now I'm left with one more scar to add to the lot. It's OK though...I'd rather have a scar from my port removal than needing to have a port.

Just as predicted by my oncologist, my hair just started sprouting baby peach fuzz. It's daunting to think of growing out my hair...again. BUT, I'm cancer free, and surrounded by my darling kids, my wonderful husband, my amazing family, and my kick-ass friends. I may look like hell but I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I will see my plastic surgeon in a couple of months to discuss my final reconstruction. Until then, I'll enjoy the benefit of perky boobs sans bra.

Time to live my cancer-free life -- happy, healthy, full of energy, and eyes wide open. Life is good...savor each day.

And to all of my peeps -- and you know who you are -- thank you for giving me so many reason to smile, fight, and live. I love you with all of my heart!

xoxo

Another New Chapter...

2010-01-23T04:29:00.000-08:00

What a week!

Several months ago, Satchel, Mel and I bought tickets to see Eddie from Ohio at the Birchmere. We didn't realize at the time that it would be a perfectly timed night out! Sunday evening, before my first day back at work, the three of us headed to The Birchmere for a "folkin' good time!" I have been listening to Eddie from Ohio for over 18 years now. And the lead singer is a breast cancer survivor, and the writer and singer of my motivational anthem "Great Day." If you haven't heard of them, you should check them out.

We had a fun night filled with cold Blue Moons, delicious bar food, great music, amazing friends, and of course the random Suzy SweetPotato who had to share our table at the last minute. Thank goodness for iPhones and text messages. (ha) I can't wait to do it again next January! (Thanks S and M...you guys are the best!)

Monday morning I headed back to work. I had worked intermittenly since my diagnosis in January, but the last five weeks I took off to get through the holidays and complete chemo. I coulda/shoulda stayed out longer, but I was starting to think about all I had to do at work, and the time seemed right to head back. I thought I'd ease back in to it, but it was no surprise that within a day I was drinking from a fire hose. My neighbor teased me that I looked stressed about not stressing about stress. Ha! The good news is that I am fortunate to work from home most days. I'm trying to take each day as they come, and get through it without stress. That is a little tough for a type A like myself. But I'm doing the best I can, and really working at it.

Yesterday, I had my chemo closeout appointment with my oncologist. As I sat in the CW waiting room, I could not wait to get in and out and outta there. I am very thankful that CW and all of the smart docs and nurses have helped me beat cancer twice in the last 18 months. But, it's a place I don't want to visit again. I will go in for check ups every 3-6 months, and it's comforting to know that they will stay on top of me for the next few years...and then yearly for the rest of my life. It kind of sucks that I will technically be a cancer patient for the rest of my life. I love my oncologist, and if she weren't my doctor, I'm pretty sure we'd get along great as friends. She's one of the top breast cancer oncologists, and I trust her gut. She thinks I'm good now, and seems to think that in 10 years we'll be talking about "cute shoes and kids." Sounds good to me! She said, "I think you are going to be OK. And I don't get to say that to a lot of my patients." As nice as she is, she is not a hugger, and she is a tough cookie. So if she's optimistic, I know she is not blowing sunshine up my ... well you know. I asked about my port, and she said, "Get it removed...you don't need it anymore." Woot! If she thought I'd need more chemo any time soon, I'm sure she'd have said, "Well, let's keep it in for a year or two." But if she thinks I don't need it, then ciao, port. I am going to see if my plastic surgeon can help with the removal, because while the docs at Interventional Radiology are very nice and skilled, they are not very precise at closing the incision. Perhaps I've now become a sutcher snob, seeing the amazing work of my breast cancer surgeon and plastic surgeon. Either way, I'll be glad to get the port out.

I'm off to walk with one of my Bosom Buddies. We were supposed to meet for coffee talk, but turned it in to a coffee walk. I met her through my girlfriends who asked me to talk to her after she was diagnosed last summer. We hit it off right off the bat, and she did great through her treatments. Then, after I was diagnosed again, we ended up going through treatments together. She is a wonderful friend and I have a feeling we'll be friends for a long, long time. I have a huge network of support from my family and friends, and I am so thankful for being so blessed. And, through this journey, I have met (way too many) young women who have been through a similar journey. I am so thankful for their friendships. I don't know what happens in their life on a daily basis, but anytime a fleeting thought going through our heads, we are all an email, text, phone call or coffee date away. It's amazing how you can talk about (and show) the most personal things ever to a stranger...because they are not a stranger, they are earth angels, put in our lives divinely to get us through all of this. And together, we find strength in numbers. To all of my pink earth angels...and you know who you are...I love you!

It's been good to get back in to working out. My toenails have been destroyed by the chemo and they hurt. Strange, I know. As if there weren't a laundry list of things to fix! I guess it's time for a podiatrist. Ick. I have an adversion to feet anyway, and this is just makes it worse. It's so bothersome I can't even write about it. I need to change the subject.

My girlfriend just turned forty this week, and I can't wait to celebrate with her and her family in a couple of weeks when they come down to visit. When I asked her what she was doing for her birthday, she said, "Nothing big, just a hair cut. And, I might even get my nails done too." All I could think was how heavenly that sounded. When I turn 40 in 2.5 years, my prayer is that I will be cancer free, have my long hair, a fit body, and good nails. And I will celebrate with a workout, a hair cut, a mani/pedi, and some fun with those I love! Seems like a good goal.

Last year when I was done with treatments, I never really had peace that I could turn the page and start a new chapter...even though I really really tried. This time, I have peace in my heart, and an outlook on life that comes with going through a year and a half of hell. It is sometimes hard to draw a line in the sand and say, "OK, ready for a new beginning" because things have happened, and as much as you want them to go away, they won't. Everything I've been through can't be erased or forgotten. Rather, it will be a part of the fabric of my life. And that just makes the fabric a little more detailed...a lot stronger...beautiful...and appreciated. Life isn't perfect, but it's great to be alive.

I have been trying my best to live for the now. Don't dwell on the past. Don't stress about the future. Appreciate all I've experienced, and embrace the scars and flaws, because those are badges of courage. Embrace the moment, and appreciate each day as a gift. And every day here on earth with my husband, kids, family, and friends is a Great Day. I really can't express how much my husband, kids, family and friends have done for me. It's been a long road for all of us, and I love and appreciate them more and more each day. I'm ready to focus on new things...which is hopefully lots of joy and happy times for each and every one of us. We all deserve some big smiles and good times! If I haven't said it enough, thank you. You know who you are, and you know how much I love you.

As my friend told me last year, cancer is a part of my story. It's not my entire story. It is a chapter somewhere in the middle. I'm ready for a new chapter! A whole new year awaits. Hallelujah! Thanks be to God...

OOH La La...Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez

2010-01-15T12:45:00.000-08:00

A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline. I have written that a few times over the last 6 months. My dream...to be cancer free and live life to the fullest. My plan...surgery, 35 radiation treatments, 4 rounds of high dose Adriamycin chemo. My deadline...January 4, 2010. Status: Complete, on time, on plan. Woot! A project manager's dream. My dream. Our dream.

It's time for a long overdue update. I am not sure where to begin or where to end. My mind swirls with thoughts from time to time, and others it is life as normal. Here goes -- for now anyway...

TGIF...Thank God it's Friday. Well, kind of. I am excited to greet the weekend, so I can play with my husband, O and Cookie. There's nothing like a good 'ol family weekend filled with basketball, errands, naps, and all around quality family time. It's a little bittersweet this Friday, because on Monday, it's back to work for me after a five week break. "Break." Ha. Isn't that ironic. My mind is quickly erasing the hell that has occurred over the last seven months, probably because in the midst of hell was a big slice of Heaven. Time. Time to heal. Time to play. Time to think. Time to organize. Time to clear things off the to-do list. Quiet time. Busy time. Me time. Family time. Precious time...

We had the most amazing holiday break. And, on Monday, January 4, it was back to reality. The kids went back to school. My husband went back to work, and Satchel and I returned to CW for my fourth and final chemo. There was a part of me that was excited to get it done and be over it once and for all. And, there was another part of me that dug my heels in the sand, dreading it, because at this point I knew good and well what a date with the red devil meant. Or did I?

Satchel came to pick me up, and off to CW we went. As we walked in to the infusion ward, it was filled with sickly older people, and quite a few young'uns like me. That is always strange. We just don't fit in there...but as I am learning, being in your thirties with cancer is no longer an anomaly. At this point, Satchel and I know the nursing staff well, and they all greeted us with smiles, knowing that we'd be up to our cheerful antics. My counts were really low, so they had to do another CBC to make sure that my nearly null white blood cell count was high enough to endure chemo. And, by the grace of God, it was. As she accessed my port, I said, "Wait one minute..." and I looked at Satchel. "You know what time it is." And as any dutiful BFF would, she got up out of her comfy chair and did her ritual shuffle-tap-step. I got a few extra shuffles and taps. And smiles appeared on the many sickly faces that filled the infusion ward. "OK, we can start now." The nurse just laughed and the infusion began. There was an adrenaline rush that day, and for some reason, as the red devil filled my body, we just talked, laughed, snapped a few pictures, and went about our business. A few of the nurses who have gotten to know us over the last 18 months came by to say hello. Before we knew it, 1.5 hours later, my nurse said, "You're done. Sit tight, I'll be right back." A few minutes later, the nurses came out with a paper ribbon, a paper crown, and a Certificate of Completion of Chemotherapy that was signed with loving notes from all of the nursing staff. Satchel put on the crown, I put on the medal, and we hugged everyone and waved as we left. It was more like a paparazzi farewell than a patient leaving a chemo ward. As we left, I got a bonus shuffle-tap-step Satchel. See ya CW.

Off we went to a celebratory lunch at one of our favorite spots, and then it was time hug good-bye and part ways to greet our kids off the bus. I was all smiles, and had a sense of relief, accomplishment, and peace. One of my great friends took O for another 5-hour play date, and off I went to bed. I suddenly went from giddy and excited to tired and queasy. Before I knew it, I had a wave of fatigue and nausea that I have never had before. Ever. For the next four days, all I did was sleep, eat bagels, drink lemonade Vitamin Water, pop pills, and did I mention sleep? And there were a few tears. I have never felt this horrible, and I never ever want to feel that bad ever again. This was the first cycle where I didn't have anything to get up for. No parties. No Thanksgiving. No Christmas. My poor body was like, "Finally, girl...let me rest!" It was clear to me that it was by the grace of God that I made it through this chemo regimen without a sniffle, without missing a single holiday, play date, dinner date, school function, etc. But, it was finally time to rest. I could not talk on the phone. I could not get on the computer. I couldn't really watch TV. All I needed was a quiet house, a comfortable bed, and...did I mention bagels? Scrambled eggs and cheese on a toasted everything bagel with a plop of ketchup. Wow, am I in college? Classic hangover food!

There is no way I could have made it through that week, or the last 7 months, without my family and friends. Between meals, rides, childcare, hugs, messages, cards, emails, etc. After a solid work week of rest, I started feeling better. My body is still achy. I am not sure how I got in daily 1-2 hour workouts before. But this week, I dusted off a gift certificate I've had and got a wonderful full body massage. And, I used one of my sessions at the gym to have a one-on-one stretching/yoga session with my trainer. Slowly, I'm feeling like me. I do not have my taste buds back. Last night at dinner with my ladies I did not have the wine. The good news is the kier royale tasted delightful! Probably a good thing wine doesn't taste good, because I do not need to be drinking right now!

I have had a great week filled with lunches, coffee dates, and phone calls with my friends, and good quality time with my family. I am hoping that when I get back to work next week, I remember how to do my job! I have a final check up with my Oncologist, and then I won't have to go back to CW for six months. Hallelujah!

Last year when I finished, I was happy but was never at peace. I always felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which it did. But now, after another surgery, 35 radiation sessions, and 4 more rounds of chemo, I am at peace. I feel in my heart that this cancer chapter will be closed. It will always be with me. And it has shaped who I am as a person. I have met people along the way that have changed my life, and I believe in my heart that I have changed the lives of people I have met along the way.

I believe I have earned the title of cancer survivor. That is hard to say out loud, and it is hard to believe that I had cancer, twice, and I will forever be a cancer patient. My family and friends are survivors, too. There is no doubt in my mind how much I am loved. I can't imagine how hard it must be to watch your wife, mom, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, sister-in-law, niece, friend, co-worker go through all of this crap...not just once but twice in an eighteen month period. But in the end, we all have new perspective on life, love, friendship, motherhood. I think it helps us all put life in perspective. And, hopefully it will help us all live lives that are filled with thanks, love, and happiness. You never know what each day will bring, but every day is a gift. And every day with those you love is a Great Day. Thank you to everyone who was by my side for this journey. If you are reading this, you know who you are. I do not take any of you for granted, and feel so blessed to have you in my life.

Seven months ago, I had a fresh new scar on my right breast. Now, that scar has faded and you can barely see it. I know it's there, but I don't think about it much. Three months ago, my right breast had massive burns and blisters on it. Now, the skin has healed and it is as perfect as ever. I read about my days on the radiation table, and they seem like a distant memory...one I don't think about much anymore. But hair. Oh the hair. Coming from a hair ball, who spent most of her life with a head full of long, thick locks, this has been very difficult. Days when I have my wigs on, I feel like my old self. Days I look in the mirror bald, I think, "Wow, who on Earth is that in the mirror." But, I'm ready for it to grow back. And while I am not looking forward to the dreaded grow-out that is so indescribably icky, I'm so thankful that it will grow back (despite my recent nightmares that it didn't), and I'm thankful that hopefully the red devil that killed my hair cells have zapped any bad cell that may have been floating around. Life is way more important than hair. But, man, have I mentioned how much I miss mine?!

Right before I started chemo, I had coffee with one of my young survivor friends. She planned a trip to Paris with one of her girlfriends. That got me thinking, "I have always wanted to go to Paris." With two young kids, the dream trip of a ten-day European vacation is just a dream. But, my husband and I take weekend trips. Why not do a long weekend in Paris? When you are traveling without kids, a 7.5 hour red-eye direct flight to Paris seems like a great idea! For our 9th wedding anniversary, I was in the midst of chemo and had just cut off 14 inches of hair. For my 10th wedding anniversary, I was in the midst of radiation and we went to Disney with the kids. And now, for our 11th anniversary, we are going to Paris for a long weekend. I can't wait! The Eiffel Tower. The Arc de Triomphe. Visiting the Mona Lisa at The Lourve. A boat ride down the Siene River. Sipping coffee in a cafe. Sharing a bottle of red wine with some bread and fromage. Sounds like a good idea to me! October in Paris. Now that is something to look forward to!

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez...let the good times roll!

Chemo 2.4...Done and Done

2010-01-07T10:59:00.000-08:00

I'm done with chemo. I am all smiles on the inside but have absolutely no energy to tell you all about it. I have never been so exhausted in my life. It seems all I can do is sleep. I have no energy to watch tv, talk on the phone or even write. I have a lot to share, but for now just know that I'm done with chemo and ready to put this all behind me and live life.

To be continued when I wake up...

The Price Tag of Cancer...

2009-12-30T04:30:00.000-08:00

What a wonderful week. I've so enjoyed having this time off from work so I can minimize stress and focus on healing from the inside out, and spend time with my family. It's been fun to have my husband off work this week, too. We have gone to the movies, taken the kids on family dates, rested and relaxed, played with our friends, and have caught up on to-dos that always seem to pile up.

As grateful as I am to have these weeks off of work, I am very thankful for my job. Many people have said, "You should just quit your job. It's not worth the stress." I am fortunate to have a job that I enjoy and offers flexibility so I can put my children first. Getting the kids on and off the bus each day is a priority for me. And, these days, I am very thankful for my health insurance . I have an HMO that has been amazing. I have never had to battle a claim, and all of my top specialists participate. It has been the biggest blessing and life saver...literally.

Yesterday, one of the to-dos I finally caught up on was submitting an insurance claim for my wigs. My insurance company has a great online tool, and before too long I found myself number crunching.

It's been a long road since my mammogram nearly two years ago. Since January 2008, I've had 3 mammograms, 2 MRIs, 2 core needle biopsies, 1 genetic test for the BRCA gene, 2 PET scans, 1 bilateral mastectomy with expanders, 2 port placements, 1 port removal, 1 implant exchange surgery, 1 partial mastectomy, 9 rounds of chemotherapy, and 38 radiation treatments. Not to mention many prescription drugs, consults, follow ups, second opinons, and blood draws. When you put it like that, no wonder I'm exhausted and tired of dealing with all of this! No wonder I'm ready to look ahead to 2010, and pray that it is filled with good health and care-free happiness! No wonder I want my body back...

The price tag? Total amount billed: $422K. Total amount paid by neogiated insurance rate: $146K. Total out of pocket by patient: ~$5K. Wow. All I can say is that I am so blessed. Lucky. Whatever you want to call it. What do women do who have no insurance? Or insurance that doesn't pay much? I wish I had millions of dollars, because I wish I could help women out there who are uninsured or underinsured.

If I think about the "what ifs" too much, it will make me crazy. So, for now, I will thank God, and continue to work hard to keep my good insurance. Something to think about...

For now, I'm going to focus on getting through my last chemo treatment next week and putting all of this behind me.

The cost of living a cancer-free, long, happy life with my husband, children, family and friends? Priceless.

Precious Gifts...

2009-12-26T18:07:00.000-08:00

The children are nestled all snug in their beds, and my husband is cheering on the Trojans down in his lair. Finally, after a couple of weeks of hustle and bustle, I have a few minutes of peace and quiet. Life has been a whirlwind of fun for the last couple of weeks. Once again, there has been little thought or talk of the Big C. The mind is powerful, and mind over matter prevails once again.

There were many beautifully wrapped gifts under the Christmas trees this year. We were all blessed to have such abundance of friends, family, food, and gifts. The gift that I cherish more than anything can not be found in a store, or under the tree. The most precious gift of all is life...and spending time with those I love.

It's moments like watching my little Cookie get all bundled up in her snow gear to keep her Daddy company as he shoveled the 15 inches of powdery, fluffy snow. It's the joy of making O the perfect cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles when he came inside, frozen from within after sledding with his buddies. It's catching up with my neighbor over a latte while our kids played happily. It's holding my new niece for the first time...welcoming her in to our loving family, watching my twin brother beam with pride over his new daughter, and thanking God that she and her mother are healthy. It's spending time with our best friends, and being filled with joy watching our kids grow up together. It's having fun planning a dinner party, setting a beautiful table, and cooking in the kitchen with my darling husband as we ate, drank, and were merry with those we love. It's relishing in the Christmas traditions of our childhoods and creating new ones with our children. It's teaching our kids about the true meaning of Christmas, and holding back tears as the hymns at the Christmas Eve service filled my heart and soul with emotions and memories. It's sitting around the fireplace on Christmas Eve, and laughing out loud at the antics and performances that you can only do with a room full of family. It's the joy of playing Santa with my husband on Christmas Eve, getting the house ready for Christmas morning...and sneaking in a few late night games of arcade hoops after he spent 4 hours putting the game together. It's snuggling in bed with our son on Christmas morning as we patiently waited for Cookie to wake up so we could go downstairs as a family to see what Santa brought. It's the joy of watching their eyes light up at the amazement that Santa knew exactly what they'd love. It's receiving the perfect Christmas card. It's telling people how much you love them, and how much they mean to you. It's letting tears of love and happiness fall as they may. It's catching up on quiet time, TV and movies with my husband. It's the pure joy of loving and being loved. It's flipping through a photo book and realizing that in a year that is dubbed the worst year ever, there has been a lot of fun, great trips, good times, many blessings, and renewed strength. It's hearing exciting, surprising news from friends across the miles, and wishing I could reach through the phone and give them big, huge hugs. It's the excitement of making a list of all the fun things we are going to do in 2010. Life. It's the most precious gift.

Christmas is my favorite time of year. But as much as I love it, I am glad to clean up once it's over. Tomorrow, I will take down the trimmings, get my house all back in order, and get back in to a healthy routine. We all have the next week off and are looking forward to some fun dates and some fun family time, rest, and relaxation. Then, on January 4 as my kids return to school and my husband returns to work, I will head to CW for my fourth and final chemo. And, on January 5, I will start my New Year...cancer free, and no looking back. There is a lot of life to live, and I have peace in my heart that 2010 will be an amazing year filled with good health, a lot of love, loads of fun, many blessings, and a lot of thanksgiving. Peace of mind. Peace in my heart.

Chemo 2.3: A Magical Wand and Combat Boots

2009-12-15T04:05:00.000-08:00

Wow, it's been a couple of weeks since I've posted. The good news is those two weeks were filled with all things good. Once I got through rough chemo week and a fun Thanksgiving, I had a renewed sense of energy. Since I had some time off from work, I wanted to make the best of it and really start working out. I need to be careful of super high cardio due to the cardio-toxic potential of the Adriamyacin. But long walks and visits to the gym were just what I needed to bounce back. As I walked to the gym, I would catch up with all of the phone calls I missed the week before. Some mornings, before I knew it, I'd have been walking for over an hour before I got to my gym that was just minutes away. Talking with my friends while getting some exercise was the best way to release the toxins from my body. The people at the gym have been great. Nobody really notices I'm bald under my pink and black camo scarf. And if they do, they don't care. This chemo makes me feel toxic, so any way to sweat it out is good. Plus, a week of rest and carb loading can not be good for the scale, and the exercise and healthy eating the other 2 weeks has helped me keep it even on the scale. So far, so good. I continue to go to acupuncture, and my little wizzard continues to do amazing work with her amazing listening, needles, music and touch. If you have never done acupuncture, I definitely recommend it. I love it! And, it really works.

Last week I worked a bit, and it felt good to get back in to the corporate groove. I made the debut appearance in to the office with my wig, and everyone was so glad to see me. It's pretty busy, and it felt good to be productive. However, I am glad I'm off for the next five weeks so I can focus on my health and not get sucked in to the stressful undertoe that corporate life so often has. It was hard to make the decision to take time off, but after a good week of working, I'm at peace with putting my health and family first.

We have been busy getting ready for the holidays, and it's been so much fun. Everything from decorating the house, trimming the tree, fun and festive ladies nights and cookie parties for the kids have all been great ways to think about all things good and few things "C." We have been talking to our children a lot about Christmas traditions. We have shared with them our favorite traditions from when we were children, and ones we have started since they were born. It is neat to see them embrace and get excited about family traditions. When my husband and I were younger, we would go downtown to Old Ebbit Grill with friends for dinner, and then visit the National Tree outside the White House. We thought that would make a fun family date night so we bundled up on a chilly Friday evening and headed in to the city. Washington DC is such an amazing city, and it's just miles from our house, so we try to take the kids in to the city as often as we can. I treated myself to a kier royale and as a family we raised our glasses for a toast of good cheer. It was so fun to watch them run around the Ellipse. Cookie was fascinated with the singers who were beautifully belting out Christmas Carols. Then, we visited Santa's Workshop there, and there was a long list of names that had checks for naughty and nice. Cookie was a little frightened when she saw that her name had a check on the naughty list. It's really come in handy around the house lately. :-) Long story long, it was fun to create a new tradition with the kids. Hopefully some day they will sit around a beautiful tree with a sparkle in their eye and say to their kids, "When we were little, Nana, Pop Pop used to..." I know how grateful we are for our family traditions.

Another tradition is my husband's cookie bake-a-thon. He is a talent in the kitchen, and he spent all weekend baking cookies. The good old favorites are better than ever, and the new recipes are now new favorites. How lucky am I to have a husband who loves to bake? Now, he just has to give them away or hide them downstairs so I don't scarf. They are delicious and addicting. Thanks, sweetie! :-)

I'm getting used to the wigs again. I have four that I trade off -- and they are all totally different styles. My husband and friends always giggle when they first see me, because they don't know who they will get. Will I be Brittney, with long, curly hair? Or will it be Jolie, the chic stacked bob. Perhaps Victoria, the layered look. Or Samantha, the shoulder length bob. Either way, I'm embracing it and grateful for it. Having hair on gives me a sense of self. I wanted a pony tail so badly the other day, so I made one with the longer wig. It felt so fun! You have to realize after a lifetime of very long hair, I have missed my hair every day for the last 17 months. I like my scarves, too, for home and the gym. Last year I was bald a lot, and now I'm only bald in the shower. I am not the hugest fan of myself bald, so why not style it up with good earrings, lipstick, and head coverings?

Oh wow, this is getting long...I should really blog more often!

Yesterday, my husband and I ventured to CW for chemo #3. I was a little concerned at first that my counts were too low, but turned out they were fine and we were able to have a date with the red devil. Normally, Satchel and I are in the big infusion room making some kind of a ruckus. But yesterday, for the first time, I had a private room. It was quite nice to have some private space and a TV. Satchel did a shuffle-tap-step at home, and my husband shuffled a little for good karma. Thank you all for the emails, text messages and phone calls. The nurse was commenting on how many pretty sounds were coming from my iPhone! They meant the world to me, so thank you. And thanks for the playdates, meals and acts of service and overall kindness. We are so blessed to be surrounded by such giving, loving people. Overall, chemo was pretty uneventful, thank God. Three down, one to go!

Now, I'm in bed feeling very nauseated and will spend the day in bed resting. I have to go wake up my kids and get them off to school! We have a lot of fun parties, festivities, and CHRISTMAS coming up the next two weeks, so I want to stay healthy and enjoy. My body has done so well, and that is a precious gift. You all are precious gifts.

My dear friend always sends me cards on chemo day -- hasn't missed one in 9 chemos. The card for yesterday is one of my favorites, so I'll close with this...

"If I could, I'd find a Fairy Godmother with a magical wand and combat boots so that she could grant your wishes and kick the crap out of anything that tried to get in the way of your happiness."

Gifts...

2009-12-02T03:59:00.000-08:00

With less than 5 weeks to go until my last chemo, I find the days flying by. Chemo #2 was another big slam to my body, but I managed to get through it once again. The fatigue, nausea, and awful metallic taste were the toughest part, but I managed to avoid the mouth sores I hear so many complain of. (Thanks, Act! and toothbrushes!) My family and friends continue to swarm me with love and help...they are all truly amazing.

We had an wonderful Thanksgiving with Satchel and her family. I was concerned that because it was on a chemo week, I'd be not feeling well and not able to eat. Thankfully, it was just the opposite! Being surrounded by friends who are family, a house filled with the delicious aroma of tasty Thanksgiving trimmings and the laughter of those you love makes for a great day! Not to mention, the food was delicious and just what I was in the mood to eat. A good time was had by all, and it was a day of Thanksgiving for sure.

After a fun family slumber party, Satchel and I felt the need to hit a few Black Friday sales. Of course, we knew going at 9am would be a sure-fire way to miss all of the deals, but we needed to get in the Christmas spirit so off we went. I even went out in my beaubeau scarf -- the first time I had ever been shopping without a wig. It was really no big deal. We came home with matching "Believe" ornaments, a few laughs, and off my husband, the kids and I went to head home to decorate the outside of our house. (Well, he decorated while I napped!)

The weekend was filled with sparkling lights, long naps, gatherings with old friends, fun play dates, a great visit with Santa, and good family time. Does it get better than that? My energy has come back but my taste buds seem to keep dwindling. I miss drinking wine and lattes. But I suppose not eating a lot of the things that aren't the best for you is probably a blessing in the long run. I wonder if an ice cold fountain Diet Coke will ever taste good to me again?! For now I'll stick with water and an occasional lemonade, and my liver will thank me.

As Monday arrived, I was feeling better and decided it was time to start working out again to undo some of the damage that the week of chemo carb-loading may have done. I'm trying very hard not to pack on weight during this chemo cycle. Most women gain between 20-25 pounds during chemo, and I am trying my best to not let that happen.

I put on my gym clothes, my "Cancer Sucks" socks, my silver hoops and my pink lipstick. I had my pink and black camo beaubeau scarf on and my wig in hand as I got the kids ready for school. As I was about to put my wig on, Cookie said, "Wear your scarf, Mommy." And I looked at O and said, "Do you want me to wear my wig or my scarf to the bus stop?" He said, "I like the scarf, Mommy." So off we went to the bus stop and preschool sans wig. It may sound like no big deal, but for me, it was. Turns out, it was no big deal, and my friends and the people around me were very supportive and complimentary. I had a great workout at the gym, and was glad to get over the hump of going to the gym with just a scarf on. It felt great to sweat. I'm still a wig girl for the most part when I'm out and about, but am really thankful for these beaubeau scarves -- they are so comfortable and as stylish as a scarf covering a bald head can be. Sid and I had a great 5 mile walk yesterday, which was good for the body and good for the soul. Long walks are the perfect way to catch up with my friends and be healthy. While I have some energy and time off, I'm working hard to exercise, get ready for the holidays, and rest every day while the kids are in school, and play when they get home.

As the hustle and bustle of the holiday is in full swing, I am trying to savor the magic of the season, and not let stress or holiday to-dos blur the spirit and true meaning of the season. There are a few gifts I want more than anything, and none of them can be purchased at the store. They are priceless gifts of living a long, cancer-free life, watching my children grow up, growing old with my husband, good health and happiness for my loved ones, and sharing precious moments with my family and friends.

All of this is good and true, but I'd be lying if I didn't say out loud that I'm sick of this all. I'm over it. I want to be done. I want my life back. I want my body back. I want my hair back. I want my mind back. I know in my heart that January 5, 2010 will be my New Year celebration, and the start of a new chapter. Santa can't bring any of those gifts on his sleigh...but I know who can. And every night before I go to bed, I remind Him of my wish list. I know He's listening...

Happy Thanksgiving...

2009-11-26T07:35:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

There is so much to say...so much to ponder. A special card I received says it all...

"Thanksgiving is a season of thankfulness for life, and health, and all things good."

I have so much to be thankful for...especially my life, my family, and my friends. I wish all of you a joyous day filled with all things good and blessed. We are off to spend Thanksgiving with Satchel and her family...and thinking of all of our family and friends who are celebrating all over the world today. For you all, I am thankful.

xoxo

Chemo 2.2: Making a List, Checking It Twice...

2009-11-24T17:24:00.000-08:00

Monday morning, my husband joined me in my morning routine. We got O off on the bus, dropped off Cookie at school, and made the morning Starbucks run. I sadly chose a bottle of water over a latte. It has been over 3 weeks since I have had a latte. It amazes me! (And, strangely enough, saddens me!)

Then, we headed over to Cancer World for Chemo #2. Aside from his surprise visit during my last chemo last December, this was his maiden voyage as my official chemo buddy. I was very happy to have him by my side. I'm so used to the CW infusion ward by now, but for someone who hasn't spent that much time there, it's a little depressing and intimidating. It was filled with very sick people, many who were sleeping (and snoring, at times!).

We got settled in our spot, and one of the nurses came over to us. "Who is going to do the dance today?" she asked, referring to the traditional shuffle-tap-step that Satchel does before every treatment. My husband blushed, remained seated, and shuffled his feet quietly. It gave me just the smile I needed to start the infusion.

We brought out the notebook and made lists of things we needed to do to get ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Then, he fired up the Mac while I brought out my bag of envelopes, labels and stamps. We were completely ignoring the fact that pre-chemo and "The Red Devil" was entering my body. We made lists, and he ordered Christmas gifts online while I put over 100 stamps and labels on Christmas card envelopes.

Within two hours, the nurse said, "You are all done and are free to go." Really? Wow, that was productive! We went out for a nice lunch, and it was very special to share the day with him. We got home just in time to get O off the bus. My girlfriend invited O over for a play date, and he had a ball!

I think the acupuncture I had last week helped with my side effects this time. I'm very nauseated and exhausted, and I am having a hard time sleeping. But, I've been trying my best to rest up so we can enjoy a nice Thanksgiving with Satchel and her family. Once again, our families and friends have been amazing with help, support and love.

Thanks to everyone for, well, everything. The emails, text messages, phone calls, cards, thoughts and prayers continue to uplift us all. I could not get through this without you all. And thanks, Sweeties, for being my chemo buddy.

Two down, two to go. Six weeks to cancer free...forever. And, in the midst of the countdown includes Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Yea, we can do this.

xoxo

A Rainbow Amidst the Rapids...

2009-11-22T18:50:00.000-08:00

It's been a few days since my head was shaved. I find in times like this you can either hide under the covers and have a pity party, or you can keep yourself busy and live your life. I opted for the latter, and have had a wonderful weekend. Between some early holiday shopping, a fun date night, a dinner party, and a fun family adventure at Great Falls Park with the kids, I haven't had that much time to dwell on the fact that I hate being bald...again. As the sun hit the rushing rapids the mist created a rainbow. It was great to share that with the kids.

I have donned several styles of wigs and have gotten some use out of my beaubeau scarves. I'm over it already, but I'm doing OK. My husband, kids, family and friends have been very encouraging and supportive. As I tucked in my kids, my son said, "Mommy, even though you are bald, you are still pretty." Even if it's lip service from a 7 year old, it warms my heart. Cookie just rubbed my head and giggled. I know this is tough for all of us, but the fact that we are just moving along with it shows how much I'm loved unconditionally.

I went to the Oncologist for a pre-chemo checkup on Friday and I'm good to go for chemo #2 tomorrow. I'm looking forward to my husband stepping in as my chemo buddy. I can pretty much guarantee that he will not shuffle-tap-step in the middle of the infusion ward, but it will be a bonding morning. I'm looking forward to having him by my side for this not-so-fun event. Hopefully we can do some holiday planning and try to ignore what's really going on.

I'll keep you posted. Say a prayer. Thanks for all of your continued love and support. Six weeks to go...

Bald 2.0...

2009-11-19T04:41:00.000-08:00

On September 9, 2008, I cut off my long hair. It was a ceremonial ladies night out of dinner, martinis, wine, laughs, and fun.

On November 18, 2009, I shaved off the 5 inches of hair it took me 11 months to grow. My husband's BFF was in town and brought over our favorite pizza. Once the kids were in bed, Rose brought out the fish haircut bib and clippers and chopped the mop as Col and Sid swept and vacuumed. No martinis. No drama. No photos. No antics. We just did it. They are amazing friends.

This morning, the pitter patter of little feet came in to our room. "She's bald, Cookie. She's bald." As my 7 year old and 4 year old petted and kissed my new doo, they loved me just the same. "Am I going to be bald when I'm a mommy?" As a tear rolled down my face I said, "No, Cookie, I pray you will never have to be bald."

My husband has been so supportive. As long as I have the love of my family and friends, and remind myself that this is just a temporary, I'll be OK. I'm sad and pissed and can't understand why I had to shave my head...again. But I am trying to dig deep, keep the faith, and remind myself that this too shall pass.

I don't really want to talk about it. Thanks to all of my loved ones for the text messages and emails and phone calls. The support is humbling. I'm trying to pep up, but this sucks.

*Sigh*

Wrapping My Head Around It All...

2009-11-15T06:15:00.000-08:00

I am starting week 3, and have a renewed energy despite a twinge of funk that is still lingering. Mind over matter seems to help with that, coupled with a good night's sleep (finally!) I am still shocked that it has been over two weeks since I've had a latte. This, from a woman who had a daily Starbucks ritual. Even with just one chemo treatment under my belt, I have had a drastic change in my taste buds. Perhaps it's the 100 Dum Dum lollipops I've sucked on to hide the metallic taste in my mouth and alleviate my nighttime cough. But I find it so strange that many of my most favorite things -- wine, chocolate, lattes, Diet Cokes and Diet Ginger Ale-- no longer appeal to me. Those vices were not the healthiest choices...so I'll take it as a bonus. Well, except for the wine. I miss the evenings of opening a fine bottle of Pinot Noir -- and I am sure that I will find a way to squeeze that back in to my repotoire once this is all over! Afterall, it's no fun to go out for dinner with my husband or the ladies, and watch everyone drink wine while I say, "I'll have some hot tea." Lame. At least I can be a dependable designated driver for the holiday season. And come January, we can go out and celebrate this all being over...and take a cab!

I have impatient tendencies, so it's not ironic that I'm already looking at the finish line when I only have one of four chemo treatments under my belt. As I listened to some great music with my friends the other night, it occured to me that I only have 7 weeks left until chemo is done, and I have been dealing with this recurrence for 4 months. Actually, it's been an exhausting 16 months...so if I only have 7 weeks left, I'll take it. My November and December calendar is filling up with fun dates, holiday celebrations and fun activities. So while I have 7 weeks of crap left, there sure is a lot of fun mixed in there which makes it totally do-able. I say that now. I'm not sure how I'll feel in a little over a week when I'm bald and nauseated and flat out in my bed! Three weeks of yuck. Lots of fun. Yup, I can do this.

So...hair. Time to talk about the hair. Any day now the pixie dust will fall, and Rose will take clippers to my wild wavy almost-bob. It has taken me 11 months to grow 5 inches. (Yes, I got a ruler out and measured it.) I am grateful that it is very thick, and has potential of being beautiful again some day. But man, it's been a long 11 months of hair talk! I was feeling all confident the other day, and thought I would pre-emptively shave my head tonight. But now, as the day as arrived, my hair has yet to shed. I have shaken it and tugged on it and really not much is happening. So perhaps I'll hold on to it just a day or two more. I have promised Rose that I will not go "alley cat" on her again--in other words, I will not pull out my hair this time. That was one of the worst nights of my life last year. So, when the pixie dust starts to fall, I will call Rose and some of my friends who are on stand-by, and get it done. I really can't believe that I had to shave my hair last year. It was hard to cut off 8 12-inch braids, but at least it was donated to Locks of Love. But now, I have to shave it again?! Really?! It's a small price to pay for life I suppose. I'd rather be bald and alive...one step closer to a long, happy cancer-free life.

I am prepared for my bald head. Thanks to my pink ladies, I have new resources to make this phase bald and stylish. While I think I will be a wig fan again this time, I have ordered some beaubeaus from this great site http://www.4women.com. My girlfriend wore these and they are very sassy. I ordered three of them -- including the pink camo workout one. I've already prepared my trainer and some of the people at the gym that I do plan to come in bald. That will be hard for me, but hopefully it will empower me to know I'm doing everything I can to be healthy. And who really cares, anyway. (ha) I also ordered 3 new wigs from http://www.namebrandwigs.com. Last year I spent nearly $500 for each of my wigs. This site has the same name brand wigs (ha) for wholesale prices. Plus, you don't have to go in to creepy wig stores that overcharge you. I ordered a shorter bob, a medium cut, and a long curly style that mirrors what I still consider "my hair" even though it's been 14 months since it's been "my hair."

I've been trying on the scarves and wigs with my kids and husband so they can assimilate to my new look. The kids have really been amazing with it all. When I put on the long, curly wig, O said, "Mommy, you look so beautiful. It's like you cut your hair, and then glued it back on your head. You look like the old Mommy." That just made me smile. Cookie had fun trying on the scarves especially since she's a doo-rag queen after her pirate phase of Halloween. She looked like a mini-me as she put the ginger brown wig over her shiny golden locks. The more we talk about it and play with these new accessories, the more natural and "no big deal" they have been. They are not phased by my scars and seem fully prepared that "Mommy's medicine will make her bald again." I am so blessed to have these two amazing children who have proven to be so resilient. They are truly the best medicine and motivation.

My friends have been so supportive. The other day, two of my girlfriends asked me what I needed. I said, "More than anything I need walking buddies." So they came over and we walked, talked, and laughed for a couple of hours. When we got back to my house, I showed them my scarves. They modeled them for me, complete with my hoops and pink lip gloss. We took photos and they said if we ever go shopping, they'd be happy to wear scarves too so I wouldn't feel alone. It was such a fun morning. The other night, a gaggle of my second cousins came over to visit. They brought delicious pizza and good cheer. One of my cousins is a 30-something triple negative breast cancer survivor, and she has become one of my closest confidants. I brought out the wigs, and we all took turns trying them on. One of my cousins shaved his head down to a cue ball for me. I told him he was nuts! He said that I didn't have a choice in the matter and he didn't want me to be bald alone. How sweet is that? My uncle buzzed his head for me before, and it's just the most thoughtful thing anyone can possibly do. Not to mention that it generates a lot of questions, and I end up on prayer lists across the country! I'll take it!

Well, I'm off to enjoy a beautiful Sunday with my family. I will keep you posted on the hair situation, and promise not to pull it out when it starts to fall. Rose is on high alert standby with her new clippers, and it is my big promise to her -- "No Alley Cat."

Have a Great Day!

A Soccer Mom Saturday in Suburbia...

2009-11-07T19:04:00.000-08:00

All the resting this week paid off big time. Not that it was really a choice! After over four days of nothing but rest, ignored rings of the phone, and neglected emails, I was able to enjoy a Friday night with my family. There is nothing like snuggling up with my 4-year old Cookie on the couch, singing our hearts out to the show tunes of High School Musical 2. When O came home from his play date and my husband got home from work, we rounded out the night with a family game of Wii bowling. After the week I had, it could not have ended better. No fine wine, no fancy dinner, but the best company a girl could ask for.

After a solid 9 hour slumber, I woke up this morning with a slight spring in my step. Finally the fog was lifting and I felt inspired to do the things many moms do in suburbia on a Saturday morning. Bake pumpkin bread. Unload the dishwasher. Order stuff online. Work on the Star of the Week poster with Cookie. Stop by CVS for the mega-sized bag of Dum Dums. (Side note: nothing gets rid of the metallic taste of chemo like a Dum Dum. :-) )Run to the dry cleaners. Make a Starbucks run to pick up my renewed favorite Skinny London Fog earl gray latte and a iced skinny latte for my hubby. (Side note: almost a week without java -- that's major!) Between basketball tryouts and soccer games, it was a full day for sure. I'm not sure if I was actually feeling better, or auto-pilot kicked in. It's these Saturdays in suburbia that give me the energy and fulfillment that I live for. Oh how times have changed!

I am glad that I was able to schedule chemo for Mondays. It seemed like a very long week, but the misery was worth it to be able to have some fun on the weekends with my family and friends. I'd rather be feeling like crap when my husband is at work and the kids are in school having fun with their friends and going along with their normal routine. We would not have made it through the week without our moms, my sister, and our friends. They checked on me, prepared meals, helped with the kids, and kept the machine running.

While I could not physically find the energy to answer the phone or reply to emails or texts, reading the messages and hearing the voice mails filled my heart with joy beyond belief. I have so many people who are supporting me and my family, and caring for us in the midst of their own chaotic lives. These are the same people who fought this battle with us less than a year ago. It was personal for us all last year, and even more so today. Last year was filled with fear of the unknown. This year is filled with strength, hope, and resolve to kick this beast once and for all and to move on.

Everyone's selflessness is humbling and reminds me to be a better person every single day. And to count my blessings, and give thanks. Whether it's helping the flustered mom with the screaming tot in a crowded Starbucks, or helping an elderly woman with her bags, every day presents itself to take time for random (or purposeful) acts of kindness.

I am hoping each day brings renewed strength from the inside out. Nearly one week down...eight to go.

Amen.

The Kitchen Sink, and Then Some...

2009-11-04T17:38:00.000-08:00

When my oncologist said that they were going to throw the kitchen sink at me, I braced myself and knew I could handle whatever they threw my way. If I have to go through the mental and physical transformations of chemo, better make it strong and kick this cancer once and for all.

Whoa. So this is what the kitchen sink feels like? YIKES! Perhaps my mind has erased the six chemo treatments from less than a year ago. And I believe this too shall pass. But man, you know something is wrong when all I want to do is lay in my bed in a quiet, dark house. The only way I can begin to describe how I feel is this...take your worst day of first trimester morning sickness, add your worst hangover ever, suck on a rusty nickel and multiply that by ten...at least.

I know in a few days I'll be back on my feet and feeling like me again. Or at least that is the pep talk I keep telling myself. For the first time, I'm letting people help me and I'm not trying to be superwoman. My friends and family have gone overboard, and for that I am grateful.

Tonight I'm using this blog as an outreach. Many of you will no doubt be checking here tonight in hopes of finding an update. I just want you to know that I have read all of your emails, text messages and notes, and I have listened to all of your voice mails. And I am truly grateful and feel very loved and taken care of. I apologize if I have not yet responded -- it's just that I'm truly trying to rest so the little energy I have I can use for reading a story to my kids, helping with homework, and tucking them in. As soon as the fog lifts, hopefully in a day or so, I'll be back in touch. Thank you all for making me feel so loved and cared for. For those of you who have taken time out of your busy lives to help make my days a little easier, thank you. I have the best friends and the most amazing family a girl could possibly ask for.

I feel like crap, I feel like saying F You Cancer, and am just now realizing that denial is over, reality has set in, and this is all really happening again. But you know what? I just got to carry my two beautiful, healthy kids upstairs, say their bedtime prayers, kiss their smiling faces and tuck them in to bed. And that is what makes today...a Great Day.

Chemo 2.1: A Date With The Red Devil...

2009-11-02T20:09:00.000-08:00

As I dropped my 4-year old, Cookie, off at pre-school, she hugged me and said, "Good luck at the doctor, Mommy. I will give you gentle pets later." She's been so darling. As I left the classroom, her amazing, seasoned teacher followed me out and opened her arms to give me a warm embrace and said, "Today's the day, right?" As I quickly scooted down the hall, I said, "Yes. I appreciate all you do, but no hugs, no tears. I'll be fine -- please pray for me and look after Cookie." My sister is also the Asst Director of the Center, and as my eyes met hers, I had to quickly look down and walk away. I knew any big hug from those I love would make it seem all too real that this is happening. So as I dashed out the door I sent her a text telling her how much I loved and appreciated her, but needed to stay strong for what awaited me.

As I arrived home, my sista Satchel was waiting for me. Sadly, she is a pro at being a chemo buddy. She sat by the side of her mother-in-law during her battle with breast cancer, and she was a rock for her family as she helped care for her young sister-in-law who battled leukemia for months. Last year, she came to 5 of my 6 chemo sessions, as well as countless appointments, and would not let me go with Plan A -- go to chemo alone. In the car we laughed, caught up, and headed over to CancerWorld...a place we are all too familiar with.

Last year, my chemo sessions lasted 4-5 hours, and we had prepared for this one to last about 2. Totally do-able. As we found our seat in the open room, we were seated next to a tall, young, 27-year old man with Lymphoma. He sat alone, and was getting a mega cocktail of 4 drugs including the Adriamyacin I was going to receive. I knew it would be just a matter of time before we started talking with him.

We had a wonderful, young, caring 27-year old chemo nurse today. She explained the side-effects of the drug, which I have heard of from many of my survivor friends who have already received the drug -- so no surprises. They call this drug "The Red Devil" -- so I, of course, felt the need to offer a visual for my dedicated readers. This is so toxic that the nurse has to hand push this very carefully in to my port.

She accessed my new port and I had my pre-meds via IV. She was preparing for the chemo and I asked her to wait, looked at Satchel, and said, "We can't start without the shuffle-tap-step!" So, with the true friend she is, she got up in the middle of the chemo infusion room and did her shuffle-tap-step. Everyone loved it and kind of looked at us like WTF. I said, "Oh, this is our ritual -- it's sort of a morning prayer. We always begins with the shuffle tap step." Oh, if only I could post the video! My kids got such a kick out if it tonight as they watched it over and over!

It took her about 35 minutes to hand push the Red Devil in to my IV. As she pushed, we started talking with the young 27-year old Lymphoma patient. We shared stories, kept him company, and offered him some head shaving lessons learned. He has beautiful, thick red hair. I broke out some of the photos on my iPhone and gave him a visual of what NOT to do when your hair starts to shed! I recommended he go to a barber this week and use a #2 or 3 clipper so he can get used to the crew cut. Then, when he feels it tingling to get it shave and do NOT pull it out. I think the picture spoke a thousand words! It was interesting to hear his perspective, coping mechanisms, and differences in what we have to face. We are both way too young to have cancer. But luckily, we both have good prognosises. I'm sure we'll see him again, and I will add him to my prayer list for sure.

By noon we were outta there, and headed to our usual spot for a quick lunch before I headed home to bed. I felt OK, but decided doing a little work in bed was fine. Before I knew it, I crashed and had a great power nap, only to be awakened by the delightful giggles of my kids and my mom. After a little home cooked food courtesy of my mom and a dear friend, we all headed up for some rest.

I really can't believe that I started chemotherapy again today. But the good news is that I'm 25% done! And it's not 11 weeks --- it's 9 weeks. I can do this. Want to know why? Because it is days like today where I feel more love than words can describe. Even this time around, when I have not been talking much about cancer, and have been playing it down, I received so many texts, emails, phone calls, etc. It is so uplifting, and one of the best medicines in healing is to know how loved you are, and to feel confident that whatever comes your way in life, it is the loved ones that are the ones who should be celebrated. How blessed am I?!

Our families have been amazing, and I am not sure how people who are alone do it. I think tonight I'll pray for the single mom with no help and no insurance who is faced with this beast. I'll give thanks for my health, my healing team, my friends and loved ones who I cherish, my extended family, and my immediate family. As I tucked in my kids tonight, swept the hair from their face, and gave them a kiss on their foreheads, I asked God to bless them. I pray for good health for their future...especially for Cookie. I pray she never has to face this beast. But I thank them for giving me every ounce of courage I need to kick a$$.

Finally off to rest. So far, so good. I have a feeling tomorrow will be rough. I am going to acupuncture tomorrow, so hopefully that zen time will be great.

Sweet dreams!

Bring It...

2009-11-02T04:02:00.001-08:00

Another week has flown by with little thought of cancer. The giant elephant has been tucked away, overshadowed by laughter and denial that November 2 is fast approaching. For those that know me, it has been obvious that something is on the horizon. All of the closets in the house have been organized to the tee, there are new touches and accessories around the house. Not to mention, some delicious bottles of wine now lay empty in the recycling bin outside. :-)

Thursday was a day of mourning as we drove up to Maryland to pay respects to our dear friend's father who recently passed away. It was a sad day but also a day where a man who made such a difference in so many lives was celebrated. Funerals are a reminder that every day is an opportunity to make a difference. Every day is part of your legacy. And that life is short no matter how many years you are blessed to have on Earth, so live well, work hard, have fun, cherish your friends, and, above all, love your family.

We took the kids out for dinner that night and enjoyed some good family time. We continue to talk with them at a high level about what's about to take place, and they seem fully aware but unphased by the upcoming treatments and hair loss. They are very loved and grounded. Afterall, it's the second time around for them too, so they are pretty seasoned at this as well.

My husband and I enjoyed a nice date night on Friday night, followed by a Halloween party. Everyone had great costumes, and I just chuckled as the wigs itched the heads of my friends in disguise. I did not have it in me to dress up in a costume. I feel like the last year I've been in a costume, and I have a feeling it will be a while, if ever, that I put a wig on for fun.

Halloween night was a lot of fun. We are blessed to live in a small but fun neighborhood with many young kids and fun parents. My little Pirate Girl and Captain Rex followed friends in the neighborhood parade, and then off they went trick-or-treating. Needless to say our house is overflowing with candy. I need to find a good place to donate the candy to.

Yesterday evening, the text messages, emails and phone calls started pouring in. I can't begin to tell you how that uplifted me. Even without talking about it much, my loved ones knew what was on the horizon. As I looked on my calendar, I saw "November 2: Chemo. Location: CW" staring back at me, and the voice in my head kept saying, "that's tomorrow." Somehow it just doesn't seem real. My scar from my July surgery is nearly invisible. The burns from the 35 radiation sessions have healed. My port is in place, and is very inconspicuous. I have my energy back, and feel stronger than ever. My crazy hair can fit in to a 1 inch ponystump. I know in my heart I'm cancer free. We've been traveling and playing and working and enjoying life. Yet today, they will pump "The Red Devil" chemotherapy in to my veins. The minute the first red drop enters my vein, the hourglass flips, and the first grain of sand begins to fall. I can deal with fatigue and nausea. Go ahead, hit me by a truck. Throw the kitchen sink at me. But my hair? Ugh, my hair. I spent the first 35 years with pretty amazing hair, and just now as it's growing back, I'll have to shave it. Again. Really? I appreciate it when people admire my short locks, but unless you shave your head you have no idea how it feels. The good/bad news is I now have many young, beautiful survivor friends who have done the deed, and now they are more beautiful than ever from the inside out.

After our family Sunday dinner last night, my son went to my mom's for a little slumber party.Today is a teacher work day, and I was not sure I'd be able to hug my mom before I left for chemo. Last year, hugging her before I left for my first treatment was by far one of the most emotional mornings. So I figured it be best if I let them go off and have some fun, and avoid some tears this morning. It was tough to say good-bye to my husband who just left on a plane for a work trip for the next 3 days. I know it's hard for him to be away for this first round.

Now, as I enjoy this quiet morning snuggled in bed with my 4 year old, Cookie, I am reminded that I can have the strength to do this all...again. My family means the world to me and I would fight the biggest dragon with my bare hands to get rid of this beast once and for all. This is all bigger than me, so once again I turn to God, and dig deep to find faith in His divine plan. I'm not sure why this is happening to me, again, but I have to believe that there is a great purpose, and I have to be confident in that. I know I have a long life ahead of me, and once again believe with all my heart that this is not my story, just a chapter somewhere in the middle. Life is not about hair or beauty. It's about living well, giving back, working hard, having fun, cherishing your friends, and, above all, loving your family.

We can do this. Time to face the reality. Satchel will be here shortly to make sure I actually get off the elevator on the 4th floor of CW. If anything, I'll look forward to some kind of antics, laughter, and a shuffle-tap-step in the infusion ward. Are they ready for us?

Today I'm borrowing a quote from Mother Teresa...

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."

And, despite a date with The Red Devil, today IS a great day. I got to kiss my loved ones, and it's one day closer to putting this CRAP behind us one and for all.

Thanks to all of you for loving me so. We can do this...

Show and Tell...

2009-10-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

One silver lining of breast cancer is the amazing, strong friendships I've made with fellow young breast cancer survivors. Words can't adequately explain the bond and connection that tie us together. Some I see often, and a few I have only met in person few times, but at any given moment we are all a phone call, text, or email away. There is little small talk and limited day-to-day interaction...just deep dives in to all of the craziness that pops in to our heads. It is a circle of strength...a circle of listening, venting, trust, honesty. Truly unconventional, unconditional friendships.

There are two young women that I wanted to see before the fun begins next week. With hectic schedules, the only time we could get together was early Saturday morning at Starbucks. I was hoping the timing would work out that my two friends could meet, but since that didn't work out I staggered the visits. The first date was with a woman who just finished chemo and is halfway through radiation. We had a wonderful visit. A few months ago, I inspired her, and she found strength from my experience. Now, months later, I was inspired by her strength. Her chic scarf, hat and accessories coupled with her beautiful make up reminded me that bald can be beautiful. That the face of a cancer patient can be beautiful and full of life even without hair, eyebrows or eyelashes. My advice months ago helped her along her journey, and now, she added to that offering lessons learned from her journey. Our visit was short but powerful. She is so beautiful from the inside out.

As she left, my other friend came to meet me. We sat outside and talked forever as our carefully blown out, coiffed hair curled in the warm autumn breeze. She finished treatment six months before I did last year, and she continues to be a source of laughter and inspiration. Our personalities have a lot of similarities, and it is nice and reassuring that you are not alone in your thoughts and experiences. We both have had numerous surgeries, and phenomenal surgeons. Before we knew it, we went in to the Starbucks bathroom for a little show and tell. We lifted our shirts, revealed our reconstructed breasts and compared scars. There are very few people that have seen "the girls" this up close and personal, but for some reason when you are with other women who have had the same surgery, you want to know how yours compare. And you know there is no judgment and nothing to be shy about. I teased that's it's too bad my other friend couldn't stay because I know she would have been right in there with us for the bi-lateral show and tell! We have all had different roads in the journey of breast cancer with our own fair share of bumps along the way, but the similarities offer strength, confidence, and laughter. After 3.5 hours in Starbucks, I was so fulfilled. I really need to get them all together, because they are all such amazing women, and I know together as a group we'd have a lot of fun! They are all divine earth angels that I am so grateful for.

My body has healed well from radiation. The skin that was seriously burned is looking better every day, and I have been full of energy. We have enjoyed good quality time at home with family and friends, and life has been incredibly and wonderfully normal. The denial of what lies ahead is coming to an end as the November 2 date at CW draws closer with each passing day.

This morning my husband and I left the house at 6:45am to head to the hospital for my port placement. As we ventured to the Interventional Radiology department in the basement, it suddenly occured to me that this is all really happening. As they hunted for a vein and resorted to a baby butterfly needle for the IV, I was reassured that getting another port was a necessity for my chemo. The staff was great and I was in good spirits, until I had to say good-bye to my husband. Tears rolled down my cheek as he kissed me good-bye and they wheeled me down the hall. A very handsome tech was there to greet me. "Why are you crying?" Really? Do you need to ask?! Before I knew it, he had me laughing. Then I had to chime in. He said, "Now, I will have to remove your gown and tape your breast." I said, "I just had 35 rounds of radiation. I am not shy about my breasts. I'm just warning you that they are all implant and incredibly perky, so not sure how the tape will help." Needless to say I got a laugh out of everyone in the room. The ice was broken and I drifted in to twilight sedation.

The port is much smaller this time around. I have two more scars to add to the list. I have vowed to be a good patient, and have stayed in bed today. I drifted in and out between work, conference calls, naps, emails and calls from loved ones, and rest. My sister, mom and husband have held down the fort with the kids and taking care of me. It is not often that I let myself rest, but today I decided it was time to take time to heal.

I've realized that I'm not ready to not feel well, but each day that goes by is one day closer to being done with all of this. My kids were so gentle and loving, and my husband is taking care of us all tonight. A week from now we'll start chemo, and will be 11 weeks away from putting cancer behind us.

My friend wrote me the most beautiful letter, and I want to share this thought with you tonight...

"The only courage that matters is the one that gets you from one moment to the next."

Amen.

35 Radiation Treatments...Check.

2009-10-14T10:55:00.000-07:00

I have gotten a lot of use out of my compression sleeve and glove in the last month. As we prepared to take off for Austin, I slipped off my cardigan and slid on my "arm girdle." On my last flight, the woman next to me felt the need to discuss the sleeve, and also came to the conclusion that the silver fillings in my mouth were giving me heavy metal toxicity and that could be the cause of my cancer. Needless to say I have had lengthy discussions with my dentist and my pediatric dentist, both with a mouthful of silver fillings, who assured me that there are such minor traces of mercury in the fillings, and taking them out would cause more harm than good at this point. Lovely.

We had a wonderful time kickin' up our heels Texas style. The wedding and cowboy fiesta were a blast, and it was fun to hang out with friends and experience all the wonderful things Austin has to offer. The BBQ and TexMex cuisine were delicious, and the shopping and night life were fabulous. We also had some good relaxing down time, which is just what the doctor ordered. It sure is a lot of fun to have a lot of fun!

As nice as it is to get away, it's good to come home too, especially when you have two little smiling faces who greet you with big hugs! We are truly blessed to have our families close by to help with the kids and everything else. They mean the world to us, and our kids have had a ball! They are blissfully unaware of what's going on.

Monday morning it was time to make thank you notes and gather trick or treat packages for the staff at RW. For over 7 weeks, every day I trekked to the hospital to have my 15 minute daily dose of radiation. While the actual process was painless, the daily routine was exhausting both mentally and physically. I'm not sure anyone really understands this unless you have experienced it yourself.

I grew quite close to my Radiation Techs. On the front of a home made thank you note I taped a photo of my family of four. And inside as I thanked them, I told them I wanted them to have a visual of what I saw every time I closed my eyes on laid on the table. I wanted them to see three of the main motivating factors I have to fight the beast and live a long, healthy, happy life. And I wanted them to know who was thanking them for healing me...a wife...a mommy.

After my last treatment, only one of my Radiation Techs was there, and I was saddened to not be able to say good-bye after so many weeks of interactions. I gave my one guy the bucket of treats and the card and gave him a hug. I tried my best to hold back the tears and quickly went on my way. As I left, I said good-bye to one of the receptionists, and handed her a bucket of treats as well. As her eyes met mine, our eyes welled up with tears. I thanked her for greeting me with a smile every single day. She knew my name from day one. She never had me check in. She just quietly said hello and offered a smile. I thanked her for being such a kind face to see every single day, and she came around the corner to give me a big hug.

As I got in the elevator, there was an overwhelming wave of emotion. And as I reached the lobby, my two Radiation Techs were standing there. As a tear streamed down my face, I gave them a big hug and said, "Thank you for everything." They said, "You did a great job, congratulations. Be sure to come visit us when you come back for your follow up in a few months. Good luck to you!"

As I got in the car, I felt a feeling of accomplishment, and a feeling of relief. If anyone else could understand all that transpired the last 7 weeks, it was them. And I was done with this phase. As I drove out of the garage, even the parking attendant gave me a smile. Shoot, I've seen him 35 times, too! I said, "I won't see you tomorrow, I'm done!" He smiled and said, "Be well, sweet lady."

As painful as the burns were by the end, it was a physical sign that any lingering nasty cells were zapped and fried. Somehow I drew comfort in the physical evidence of the 35 treatments. Even after just a couple of days of reprieve, my breast is healing nicely. I'm hoping in a week or two the burns will be a distant memory. Surgery...check. Four wonderful vacations...check. Thirty-five radiation treatments...check. Deep breath...check.

Now it's time for phase 3...the beast. On October 26 I will get my port placed again, and on November 2 I will begin my four cycles of heavy dose Adriamyacin chemotherapy. In the midst of those 11 weeks of chemo, I will focus on my health, savor time with my loved ones, and celebrate the joy and hope of the holidays. (And, meet my neice!) On January 4, I will be done and hopefully will then be able to put all of this behind me once and for all. Remeber what I read about the goal? A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline. Dream...check. Plan...check. Deadline...check. Now, let's add some prayers to that and God willing my body will cooperate and my mind will stay strong, and together with those I love we can get through this and move on.

xoxo

One To Go...

2009-10-08T18:35:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, La Jolla was filled with family, love, joy, laughs, and memories we will look back on for many years. My husband, mom and I flew out west, met up with my older brother, and had a fantastic time with our extended family to celebrate the wedding of one of my cousins. Family flew in from Japan, Texas, New York, New Jersey and all across the country for this special occasion. This wedding was absolutely magnificent, and it was truly a most special family reunion.

Monday morning it was back to reality...bus, school, work, and the mid-morning jaunt to RW for my daily dose of radiation. My right breast is red, burnt, blistered, and, well, it hurts. I'm trying my best to practice mind over matter. The best news is that I only have one treatment left! I begged my Radiation Oncologist to do two doses in one day so I could be done today, but she just smiled and said, "Give me a big hug. We'll see you Monday!"

Tomorrow, my husband and I are heading to Austin for our friends' wedding. Neither of us have been there before, so it will be a fun weekend to explore, rest, and kick up our heels Texas style. The whirlwind of travelling the last 6 weeks has been a blast, and an excellent way to enjoy life and not think too much about the Big C. I am, however, looking forward to slowing down and putting away the suitcases for a while.

My chemo is scheduled to begin on Monday, November 2. I will be on a heavy dose of Adriamyacin, one every three weeks for a total of 4 cycles. I'll talk more about that later, but for now I'm still in happy mode, and off to pack a little black dress one more time!

I read two quotes recently that spoke to me...so as I say good night I leave you with these little nuggets...from a girl who loves to dream and has a goal of kicking cancer's ass once and for all...and believes that her life will be long and filled with peace, happiness and good health with all those I love.

"A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline."

"To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe."

Blister In The Sun...

2009-09-30T20:35:00.000-07:00

My dear friend turned 40, and six of us celebrated last weekend with an amazing ladies retreat at the lake. My friends' parents recently built an amazing house and opened up their home to us. There's nothing like a massive house with all of the amenities of a luxurious B&B coupled with the comforts of home, and six amazing women to recharge the batteries. The 28-hour get-away seemed so much longer. Perhaps time away for massages, movies, football, fine wine, delicious food, fun tunes, pool, tons of laughs, late-night karaoke and fond memories was the perfect medicine. I am truly blessed to have amazing circles of friends in my life.

The last 6 weeks has been super hectic between work, school, birthday parties, sports, activities, exercise, all of our travels, and the other duties life of a working suburban mother of two, wife, daughter, sister, friend requires! Somehow in the midst of the chaos of life, I have made time to for 31 visits to the hospital for my daily dose of radiation. "Are you tired?" the little old lady in the elevator asked me. "I'm doing pretty well, actually. I don't really have time to be tired!"

I have become quite close with my Radiation Techs, and adore my Radiation Oncologist. I will not miss my daily dose, but I will miss the people I have met along the way. The ladies at the front reception are so kind and always greet me with a smile. My techs are three men in their thirties who I have bonded with, and trust whole-heartedly. At first I was shy about having men so up close and personal to my breast, but now it has become second nature, and it doesn't matter. I appreciate them all so much, and no matter what mood I'm in, we always manage to crack a joke or a smile.

The other day I had a few minutes to wait, and I started talking to a woman in the waiting room who was my age. Every day when I arrive she is sitting there doing work, waiting for her 78-year old mother. We started chatting and hearing the story about her mom made my situation seem not so bad. I will not get in to details, but she has a rare skin cancer in a place where the sun doesn't shine...in the most personal of nether regions that a woman has. Suddenly the pain and exposure of my perky, reconstructed scarred breast didn't seem so bad. I have also become friendly with the woman who is treated right after me. Each day we greet each other as we pass each other in our gowns. The other day we both were in the waiting room and started chatting. She is 39, and there are twenty or so women in her office building under 40 with breast cancer. I just don't get it. Why are so many of us, so young, with no family history connected by the pink ribbon? Bottom line, as the days have gone by, RW has become a place of healing, and no longer a place of fear.

My skin had been doing really well, until I felt some real burning sensations last Friday. I suppose after 28 treatments, my skin was bound to give in, especially since they were doing three different fields. Last night it was difficult for me to fall asleep because my skin was so burned. Imagine your worst sunburn x 10. I am reminded why I stopped sunbathing years ago! My doctor prescribed some burn cream and that is helping a little. But, little blisters have formed and around the edges it's red and raw. I had been warned of burns and blisters but had been doing so well I thought I'd be the lucky one to escape the discomfort. Fortunatly that area will get a reprieve, because I have now moved on to the electron boost. I only have 6 more treatments left, and these are targeted right in the area where the cancer was. The delusional part of me is glad to feel some pain and see the raw, blistered skin. Because you can't see or feel radiation, the symptoms I'm experiencing offer reassurance that these invisible rays are zapping any bad cells that may be left in my body, and I know it's working. Pain and discomfort suck, but it could be much worse. So after some brief venting to and pity from my friends and family, I feel better. I am strong...but am so ready to get this treatment over with and put cancer behind us once and for all. I'm ready to heal.

Yesterday my husband and I ventured over to CW and met with my Medical Oncologist to discuss my treatment plan. I'm too tired to go in to details now, but I will start 4 weeks from now most likely -- around the beginning of November. I will have 4 cycles -- 1 every 3 weeks. I am ready to get going on that and be done with the Big C once and for all. More on that later.

As for now, it's time to get some sleep. Our jet-setting travels are taking us to beautiful La Jolla, California tomorrow! My husband, mom and I are heading west for my cousin's wedding. It will be a weekend filled with family, beautiful weather, and a happy marriage celebration. It's not very often that our extended family gets together, and I feel so blessed to be able to attend the festivities. My extended family has walked with us every step of this journey, and it will be great to give them big hugs in person! At the end of the day, family, friends and happy memories are what it's all about. Thinking about the fun to come and reminiscing about the good times we've had offers motivation to stay strong and not let anything get in the way of life. Life is about living for the day, and not fearing the future. It's about giving thanks and appreciating the wonderful people in my life and happy times that matter most.

There is no doubt that this weekend will be filled with much needed rest, relaxation, fun, good times -- all around Great Days!

Work hard, give thanks, love deeply. Don't wait for tomorrow to do something that will make you happy today. Love life and life will love you back.

xoxo

Magical...

2009-09-18T03:53:00.000-07:00

The house was dark and quiet as I headed out at 6:45am to get an early morning daily dose of XRT at 7am. I had a big day ahead, and they were nice enough to give me the first slot of the day so I could get radiated and get out of there.

When I got home, the bags were packed and the taxi pulled up to our house right on time at 8am. Our two kids thought it was the third day of school, but suddenly became suspicious as they glanced at the two large suitcases and noticed the Red Top Cab minivan outside. "Let's go!" we said, and my son said, "I'm NOT getting in that stranger's car unless you come with me." I just smiled and said, "Trust us. Of course we're coming with you." It was a VonTrapp moment for sure.

As we headed to DCA, my son was growing anxious and trembled a bit, looking as though he was about to burst in to tears. I said to my husband, "O is freaking out, we have to tell them now." So as we smiled at our two kids, we said, "We are not going to school today, we're going to Florida!" There was an unforgettable look on his face as he buried his hands in his face and tried to hide his tears. He was relieved that we were not sending him off with strangers, and flashed a gleaming smile that his dream of going to Disney World was coming true.

The four of us had an amazing five day adventure in Florida, and were blessed to be able to experience Hollywood Studios, Magic Kingdom, Epcot and Animal Kingdom. Our kids were at the perfect age to beleive in the magic that the Disney theme parks offer. While the rides and shows and attractions were fantastic, the best part of the trip by far was catching the eye of my husband, sharing a smile, and watching the faces of our two kids savor every minute of this magical world for the first time. It's a kid's dream to visit Disney World, but as a parent, it's a dream come true to watch them experience it when they believe and appreciate all the magic. As we celebrated our 10 year anniversary with our two children, my heart was filled with joy.

One of my dear friends from Virginia Tech hosted us for an unforgettable day at Discovery Cove. It was a nice break from the hustle and bustle of Disney, and is such a beautiful, serene place. We swam with the dolphins, floated down the lazy river, fed birds in the aviary, and waded in the water with stingrays. It was a bit rainy, so we headed over to SeaWorld to see Shamu and get a couple of their crazy roller coasters in. It was a great day for sure.

Our Carpe Diem vacation was perfect in so many ways. I did not think about work, chores, or the "Big C" at all. It just reminded me that sometimes you just have to toss worries and responsibilities aside and seize the day.

My daughter and I left early Monday morning so I could make it home in time to get another daily dose of XRT. I was disappointed to learn that the machine was down, and my appointment was cancelled after rushing home.

The rest of the week has been busy getting back in to school and work and life. Radiation is going fine and my skin is holding up well. I look like I've been laying out in a one-cup bikini top! My right breast looks a little tan/pink, and there are a few brown spots that look like new freckles. My doctor has assured me that those are just the hair follicles, and the brown spots and discoloration will subside after treatment. I've lost count of how many treatments I've had. I know that I'm over 20, and only have a couple of weeks left. It's kind of odd that I don't know the exact number, but as I take things day by day, it seems to make life a lot less stressful. (I'm sure my mother will smile to hear that).

As I left RW the other day, there was a beautiful little girl on a stretcher. Her bald head was covered by a fuzzy pink hat, and she was wearing a sparkly tiara. Her hospital gown had a pink boa-like vest over it, and balloons adorned her stretcher. "Is it your birthday today?" I asked. "Yes, I'm 10 today." I said, "You are a beautiful birthday princess...happy birthday!" She just smiled. As I walked away, tears streamed down my face and my heart broke. That night, I gave my kids extra kisses, and counted my blessings even more.

09-09-09...

2009-09-09T19:52:00.001-07:00

Anyone who knows me well can attest to the fact that I have never missed a birthday, and have a freaky appreciation for a good calendar date. And babies who are born with a birth date like 09-09-09 are pretty lucky!

Ten years ago today, 09-09-99, was an amazing day. My fiance and I had just moved in to our new home, and were throwing a pre-wedding open house party for 60+ friends and family. In hindsight, it was pretty ambitious, given the fact that our house was small, and it was two days before our wedding! But we were young, carefree, and all about fun with our family and friends. And, we were madly in love and so excited about our wedding weekend...the beginning of our life together.

One year ago today, 09-09-08, was another day I'll never forget. My scalp was tingling with a freaky, painful sensation that was like nothing I had ever felt, and my long, thick brunette locks that I loved so much were starting the early stages of shedding due to the chemo I had begun just two weeks earlier. Together, with the best friends a girl could ask for, and with the help of many cocktails, we cut off 8 12 inch braids and donated my hair to Locks of Love. It was one of the most difficult days of my life by far. And I still think about it all the time. While I've come to appreciate that I am more than the hair on my head, I miss it every single day.

Tonight, 09-09-09, we cleaned our house and packed our bags in preparation for surprising our two kids with an amazing trip to Orlando tomorrow. Last year, we had planned to take our two kids to Disney in November. The whole cancer/chemo episode last fall put an end to that plan. So, this summer, we decided that we were going to dust off those plans and take the kids to Disney this November. Well, the whole local recurrence of cancer and pending chemo put an end to that plan. One morning at work, I called my husband and said, "Hear me out...I have a crazy idea." And that evening we started planning our trip to Orlando for September during our 10th Anniversary weekend. Since this is the first week of school, we wanted them to be focused on school, their new classes, and all the fun that goes with it. The kids have NO idea that we have planned this trip. They are sound asleep and think tomorrow will be another day at school. We can't wait to see the look on their faces when they hear all about the big trip we have planned!

I am going to head to RW first thing tomorrow to get my daily dose of XRT before we head to the airport. Tomorrow will be treatment 17! It's been an easy, non-eventful week at RW, and my skin and energy are cooperating big time. Thank you, God. I am truly blessed.

I had an axillary dissection during my latest surgery, and my surgeon removed all of my axillary lymph nodes under my right arm. This puts me at risk for lymphedema. The therapist said my arm shows no sign of swelling and looks good, but took measurements of my right arm as a baseline.

In preparation for the flight, I met with a Lymphedema Therapist, and she wrote me an order for a compression sleeve and glove. There is something about the cabin pressure of the airplane that can be a risk factor to cause lymphedema, so I have to wear sleeve and glove compression garments (or as I call it, the arm girdle). My kids tried it on, so they will not be freaked out when I put this on tomorrow on the plane.

I made the mistake of Googling "Lymphadema, arm, breast cancer" and checking out the Images. I don't recommend that! But, Dr. Google did offer some information about lymphedema. Click here for the scoop from breastcancer.org

"Lymphedema is a side effect that can begin during or after breast cancer treatment. It isn't life threatening, but it can last over a long period of time. This condition involves swelling of the soft tissues of the arm or hand. The swelling may be accompanied by numbness, discomfort, and sometimes infection.

You can think of lymphedema as a plumbing problem: Veins and lymphatic channels are like pipes and drains that can handle the normal load of lymphatic fluid. If lymph nodes and channels are removed, there might not be enough pipes and drains to handle all the fluid."

Everyone is sound asleep now except for me! With that, I'm off to get a good night's sleep and dream about all of the fun we'll have this weekend. I am truly blessed to share our 10th Anniversary with the love of my life, and our two most precious gifts!

Life is good...

Fight On, Again...

2009-09-05T11:58:00.001-07:00

Life is going along well, and we have enjoyed a fun, busy summer with the kids, our family, and friends. To be honest, I have not been thinking too much about the Big C. I will have plenty of time to think about that when chemo starts sometime in October. Call it denial, but for now I choose happiness over worry. I choose to live for the moment and not fear the future. It's a lot more fun!

Now, here's the real question...are you ready for some football?!

Today is one of my husband's most favorite days of the year. Yes, college football season is officially underway. The new USC Trojans flag is hanging outside our home, my husband and kids are decked out in their jerseys, and even I have my Trojans flair on. Last year on this big weekend, I had just completed my first chemo, and my husband was in Charlottesville at the big game with his fellow BFFs that share in his love for Trojan football. That seems like forever ago -- so much has happened in the last year.

Once again, it's time to Fight On.

I am nearing halftime with my XRT treatments. I have completed 14 radiation treatments out of 33-37 total I will have had when it's all said and done. So far, it's going fine. My skin is holding up well...I don't really notice any burning or significant changes. Two to three times a day I slab Weleda Baby Calendula lotion (that I picked up at Whole Foods) all over my chest, and that seems to be working well so far. Aside from skin changes, the biggest side effect from XRT is fatigue. At the beginning, my doctor said that any exercise I can do will help alleviate the fatigue. So, each day I do my best to work out. Some days it's as little as a 30 minute walk, and others it's a full blown 1.5 hour workout at the gym. But I do something every day. With that, the fatigue is minimal so far. All in all, so far, the radiation is going well.

When I first started my daily jaunts to RW for daily doses of XRT, I was anxious and, to be honest, a little bitchy. As the days pass, I have softened, and my beaming smile seems to emerge. Every day I am in the same room, and I have 2 of the same 3 male techs treat me. In the beginning, I joked with my guys, "I'm only going to be here for six weeks, so I don't want to get attached to you." Now, I feel very comfortable with them, and every day they don't know which "me" they will get. Why can't I just be a quiet in-and-out patient? Every day I arrive at RW in a different mood. Sometimes they laugh, sometimes they blush, sometimes they roll their eyes, and every day they are very compassionate.

It's not often that I have 15 minutes where I have to lay down and be still. From the moment I lay down on that table, I close my eyes. They have music that plays in the room and my mind tends to drift to wherever the song takes me. One day, as I closed my eyes and listened to the Reggae music, I dreamed of my husband and I resting on a hammock under a pallapa in the Caribbean, watching our two kids play on a white sand beach with the turquoise ocean as the backdrop. Another day, I was listening to old Michael Jackson songs, and was remembering the good old days of the 80s, and laughed at the fact that I am still friends with those same ladies 25 years later! And then, on Thursday, I heard a song that was very special to me during my treatments last year. As I laid there with my eyes closed, tears started streaming down my face in a furious river, and my heart started to race. It was quite uncontrollable and one of those moments where you just can't make it stop. I had to lay there, still. I could not wipe the tears. I could not grab a tissue. I could not excuse myself or take a break. I just kept my eyes closed and appreciated it as a moment of release. It was during those moments that I felt a hand on my shoulder, and my guys said, "Sweetie, you are going to be OK." In that moment, I think it became evident that that while I can be bitchy, quiet, strong, sweet, funny, impatient, nice, sarcastic, etc., when it comes right down to it, I'm a mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend, woman who is fighting for the life that she loves more than anything with all that she has. And yes, I'm going to be more than OK. I'm going to be great.

On Friday morning, I made a quick stop at the bakery and picked up a dozen freshly baked donuts to bring to my RW guys. "Good morning, fellas. Here are some donuts for you, now can you pretend I didn't lose it yesterday?" They just smiled. And then one informed me that he was fasting during Ramadan. "Oh no! How are you going to stare at this chocolate donut with sprinkles all day long?" He said, "It's all in your mind, and if you have a strong mind, you can do anything." Hmmm, he's on to something. Then he smiled and said, "I'll take that home with me and eat it at sundown." I smiled.

The beast has no chance. I will "Fight On." And I'm a Hokie, and like all those who love Virginia Tech, I will prevail, and be stronger than ever.

Off I go to enjoy a family day of football!

Go Trojans! Go Hokies!

My Sweet Cookie...

2009-08-30T18:44:00.000-07:00

Four years ago today, one of my greatest dreams came true. I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl, and our family of four was complete. Today, we celebrated Cookie's birthday in the company of her friends and our family with a rock 'n roll/Hannah Montana/High School Musical party. My husband and I had so much fun decorating the pink guitar cake and preparing for the party. Seeing the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes all day long was truly a gift. From the moment I woke up this morning, until now as I get ready for bed, my heart is filled with peace and joy. And it's days like today that give me all the energy I need to face the week --and months -- ahead. The best days are those when all you feel is happiness, and you don't think about --- well you know -- for a single moment.

Happy birthday to my Cookie! You are the things dreams are made of...

Today was more than a great day...it was amazing.

I Gotta Feeling...

2009-08-28T10:05:00.000-07:00

Every day, Monday thru Friday, I hop in the car at the same time, turn on Track 5 on the new Black Eyed Peas CD, and pump myself up for another trip to the hospital for my daily dose of radiation. I Gotta Feeling. It's a fun song that puts me in a good mood, and it puts a smile on my face.

Saying "the hospital" over and over again sounds draining, so I have dubbed it "Radiation World" (RW for short). Sort of like the sister of "Cancer World" or CW, the pet name I have for my oncologist's office. I work in IT, so having lots of acronyms is how I roll. So far I have XRT, RW and CW. I'm sure there will be more by the time it's all said and done.

Today I finished my 9th dose of radiation (there will be 33-37 total). Most days, I just hop off the elevator, they call me back right away, and I'm in and out in fifteen minutes. The last two days they have been delayed and I have had to sit in the waiting room for twenty minutes. To me, sitting in the waiting room of RW is sometimes worse than the actual treatment. Being surrounded by cancer material, cancer pictures, and signs about "life with cancer" is more than I can take for too long. And, to be honest, it's occasionally difficult to be surrounded by sometimes very sick cancer patients. I don't look sick, I don't feel sick, I don't act sick, yet we all have the "same" disease. I give them a lot of credit because they are much braver than I was -- I never went out in public with an exposed fuzzy bald head. When I see that, it just reminds me of what I will have to face in a few short months when I go through chemo again. I really can't imagine that just yet, so I just keep my head buried in magazines such as "Woman's Day" and "Men's Health" and hope the time flies by so that I can get XRT and get outta there. It's my happy little world of denial, and of living for the moment and not fearing the future.

I meet weekly with my Radiation Oncologist, and today we had a nice visit. I really like her a lot...she's smart, honest, and has a great sense of humor. She's another one of my doctors that I not only trust with my life, but enjoy as a person. So far she is pleased with how my skin looks. And I'm nearly a third of the way through the treatments. I told her about my waiting room anxiety and she said, "Well, that's not you so just enjoy your health and read a good book."

I also spoke with my Medical Oncologist this morning on the phone. We had a conversation about my second opinion, and she will continue to research and review my chemo cocktail alternatives. In the mean time, I am not going to think about chemo...I'm not going to research chemo. I am going to cancel my daily appointment with Dr. Google and let the experts agree on the best protocol for me. When I have something to worry about or think about, I will. In the mean time, I am feeling great, and life is going along pretty normal. The kids are having a fun summer, and are sad to see it come to an end. It's been a great summer for us all (well, despite the whole cancer recurrence) and we are looking forward to an action packed fall filled with school, football, vacations, and healing.

Tonight my husband and I are heading out for a fun date on the town to take advantage of Restaurant Week here in DC. We have reservations at a wonderful restaurant we've been wanting to try, and my sister has offered to come hang with the kiddos.

I gotta feeling that tonight’s gonna be a good night...

Radiation 101

2009-08-25T15:21:00.000-07:00

Over the years, when a medical situation arises, I usually immediately turn to my favorite doctor, who is available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, and does not cost a dime. I am a firm believer that information is power, and in order to fight a beast you have to have respect of what the beast is, and an understanding of what armor and weapons you need to kill the beast. So consulting with this doctor before I meet with my specialists empowers me as an informed patient. With as helpful as this doctor is many times, this doctor has been known to misdiagnose, offer unnecessary worry and freak people out to no end. And, it offers images that are sometimes difficult to erase from your memory.

I'm sure you know this doctor well...it's Dr. Google.

For some reason, as much as I've researched my cancer, treatments, chemos, surgeries, prognosis, etc, I have never looked to Dr. Google for details about radiation. Perhaps it's because I know so many women who have undergone radiation treatment, and I have heard of their sunburns and fatigue. I have listened to them vent about the tedious task of visiting the hospital every day for weeks on end. I suppose that was all I really needed to know.

Last week, after a very restful week at the beach with my husband's family, and three weeks after my surgery, I headed to the hospital to begin my 6.5 weeks of radiation. (The medical abbreviation is XRT. One of my smart friends used that an email to me; I had to Google it to verify what she was referring to, and since it makes me feel smart, I'll start referring to it that way as well!) Anyway, I get to keep my hair, I don't have to take any steroids, I don't need a port, and there are no toxic chemicals going in my veins. This seems like a walk in the park in comparison to the chemo I endured last fall. But I will not underestimate the burns and fatigue they tell me I will have in a few short weeks.

The first couple of days there was still "planning" going on. Listening to the techs and the Radiation Oncologist talk about degrees and angles and positions made me realize these were the folks that were head of the Math Club in school! And they are the ones who loved

getting new protractors as back to school supplies. Thank goodness for that! They referred to "the physics guys in the back" and I really started appreciating what an exact science XRT is. So, I turned to Dr. Google to get an understanding of it.

Here's an excerpt from breastcancer.org...

"Radiation therapy uses a special kind of high-energy beam to damage cancer cells. These high-energy beams, which are invisible to the human eye, damage a cell’s DNA, the material that cells use to divide. Over time, the radiation damages cells that are in the path of its beam — normal cells as well as cancer cells. But radiation affects cancer cells more than normal cells. Cancer cells are very busy growing and multiplying — 2 activities that can be slowed or stopped by radiation damage. And because cancer cells are less organized than healthy cells, it's harder for them to repair the damage done by radiation. So cancer cells are more easily destroyed by radiation, while healthy, normal cells are better able to repair themselves and survive the treatment."

Thanks, Dr. Google. Many of my loved ones have asked about XRT, the process, what it's like, etc., so here goes. Every day for 6.5 weeks, I visit the hospital at the same time. I check in, head back and

get changed from the waist up in to a hospital gown, and my techs meet me to take me back to the room. I hop on this table, put my arm in the "arm stirrup" as I affectionately call it, and lay still as a statue for 15 minutes. (Yes, this is my exact table. I took the picture after XRT today!) They use lights and angles and tatoos to line up the machine exactly as the physician designed during my planning. The techs leave the room and I hear a few buzzes and clicks, and they come back in to do it all over again for the other two positions.

At first, I was a little shy about two men up close and personal with my right breast, with their faces inches away from it, drawing on it with a Sharpie pen. Then, I saw a man in the back area with his gown on, undressed from the waist down. Suddenly I realized that these XRT techs see many body parts in a day, and my boob is the least of their worries. And I get to keep my knickers on. Thank goodness for small things.

Now that I'm getting to know my XRT techs, I am starting to ask my Discovery Channel Interactive quesitons, which seems to make them chuckle, shake their head, or roll their eyes. "So, I can't see anything, and I can't feel anything, and I can't smell anything. Aside from hearing a few clicks, how am I supposed to know it's working? How do we know that something is coming out of this machine?" Apparently the computers let us know, and there are a bunch of quality assurance measures they do weekly. Fair question, no?

It is a tad cumbersome to go to the hospital every single day, but I am so blessed that I live close to the hospital, my office is only 3 miles from the hospital, and the appointment is only 15 minutes in and out. Just a week in to it, I'm already appreciating the welcoming smiles of the reception staff and nurses, and I don't even have to tell them my name when I check in. I even know the parking garage attendant by name, and every day he offers a smile and a dose of positive thinking. Today he offered "Hakuna Matata" and informed me that means "no worries." If only he knew how many times we have watched the Lion King with my mom and son! And for that reason it made me smile even more. Apparently Hakuna Matata is the best cure. I think he's on to something.

I have 6 XRT treatments down, 27 to go. I can do this.

The Backstory...

2009-08-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

The last 13 months have proven, without a doubt, that you never know what a day may bring. However now, more than ever, I appreciate the gift that each day is. I can't really reflect on that time right now, since I have spent so much time moving on with life and putting the "Big C" behind me. It's all still written down in Scarlett's Journey, and some day I will go back to read it and reflect. But, for now, that is just a part of my story...a chapter in the middle of my book of life.

The last six weeks has been a new whirlwind. On July 2, 2009, my family and I had a quiet day of reflection, for it had been one year since I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. I was living my "cancer free" life, growing my hair, getting my body back in shape, and finding a new "normal." I had just had my six month check up with my oncologist, and all was good. We all took a deep breath, and my husband and I decided to get away for a night in beautiful St. Michaels.

We had a fun evening planned, and I hopped in the shower to get ready. The soapy water fell down my chest, I was thinking about what a fun night it was going to be ... until I felt something--a tiny pebble--in the exact same "2 o'clock" spot in my right breast where the cancer was a year ago. I froze, and my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. I touched it again, and then quickly moved my hand away. Touched it, and again, moved my hand away quickly. As the shower water rained down on me, the tears of fear immediately started to fall. I don't know what benign feels like but I know what cancer feels like, and this felt like cancer. But how? Last summer I had a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction -- there was no breast tissue there. And I had just finished chemo 7 months ago. Wasn't that supposed to kill any floating cells? I was not going to let it ruin my evening with my husband so I collected myself and got out of the shower.

When I got out of the shower, my husband said, "What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost." I said, "I just felt something in the shower. I'm sure it's nothing." But minutes later I dialed my breast cancer surgeon and begged to be seen ASAP that week. The earliest they had was Thursday, and it seemed like an eternity.

At last Thursday arrived, and it was great to see my surgeon. Not only do I trust my surgeon, but I really like her as a person. When she felt the tiny pebble she said, "Oh this little thing? Let me get the ultrasound." Minutes later, she came in with her ultrasound machine and took a look at my little tiny lump. Her initial gut reaction was that it was just fluid, and for a minute my mind was at ease. As she got out a large needle to carefully extract the fluid, my heart raced as I laid as still as statue. But I could see the look of concern grow on her face. "This isn't fluid. We should biopsy it." What? Seriously? Tears rolled down my face as I held back the sob. How is this happening...again? She put a STAT rush on it so I could have the results by the weekend.

It was Friday, July 10 around 5 pm, and I hadn't heard any results. Finally, the phone rang, and I had to walk outside to my front yard to get cell reception. "Hi." My body started to tremble as I heard her friendly voice. "It's cancer. I don't know what to say." I didn't either. My husband looked over and saw the calm but constant tears flow down my face as I listened carefully, and he came over to hold me. She had discussed the results with my oncologist, and she was convinced it was a local recurrence. But, to be sure, they had to schedule a PET scan, and immediately started talking about the imminent surgery and radiation that were in my future. There has to be a reason this is happening. I kept reminding myself of that.

Fast forward through that dramatic week. Thankfully, the PET scan came back clean. Thank God it had not spread. There was a last minute opening in the OR, so my surgeon was able to squeeze me in for a partial mastectomy (who knew that was possible after you already had a mastectomy!) and anxillary dissection 1.5 weeks after I received the news. Fortunately I was able to keep my implant in tact. She removed all of my lymph nodes in my right arm...14 total...all clean. I healed pretty quickly after my surgery. I think my body has been through so much in the last year, this was a breeze in comparison. So, in the midst of a shocking diagnosis, we kept getting good news and answered prayers. Technically I'm back to cancer-free living.

The treatment plan for now is 6.5 weeks of radiation. Because this is such an unusual situation, there are a lot of different opinions as to whether I need chemotherapy again. I wish cancer could be treated with a clear end cure. Like when you break your leg, you have a cast, the bone heals and you don't have to worry about your broken leg anymore. Because I am only 37, the doctors want to throw the kitchen sink at me just to be safe. The chemotherapy protocol/cocktail/timing/decision is to be determined. I will be getting a second opinion next week to determine my final treatment plan. I would really prefer not to endure chemo again, but as my dear friend told me, "It's better to have chemo a second time than cancer a third." Perspective. And, I look in the eyes of my ~4 daughter and ~7 year old son, and know they need me around. So I will do what I have to do to ensure a long life with my family.

Overall we're doing fine. We have been enjoying the summer and not letting the "Big C" take over our lives. I am feeling strong again, and am finally back to my pre-surgery workouts. I want to keep my body strong to ensure it can make it through this next battle well.

This should not be happening, but it is. And as I read recently, you can focus on your problems or focus on your purpose. I choose to focus on my purpose. As crazy as this sounds, I have already touched the lives of many with my story, and if I can help people out there, then it offers peace and purpose.

I have an amazing family and circle of friends and a lot to life for. We can do this. Time to dig deep, people. Time to kick the beast once and for all. Every morning I wake up in my home, next to my husband, and hear the laughter and receive the hugs and kisses from my children, I give thanks for all that I have been blessed with.

And no matter what happens today, I'm alive, and that makes today...A Great Day.