Monday, June 17, 2013

Half full/Half empty: SCH #2

When I found out that I would be treated with chemotherapy, there were about 3 positives to the treatment process:

1. No shaving
2. No Aunt Flo (female time of the month)
3. I could stand to lose a few lbs

Well, my body officially hates me.  My leg hair continues to grow.  Aunt Flo has visited on time, both months.  I continue to gain AT LEAST a pound every two weeks, usually two.

How then am I supposed to find half full?  I'm pretty sure the glass is half empty at this point.

BUT...I found a positive.  My chin hair isn't growing anymore!!

Maybe these ladies need some chemo:

https://www.google.com/search?q=bearded+lady&rlz=1T4ADRA_enUS444US444&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=eB2_UffUOeW5ywGSq4FY&ved=0CEcQsAQ&biw=1125&bih=325


 

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Relay Day 2013

Friday night is the Relay for Life.  Most of this post is a re-post from last year. Bold print is used for the 2013 additions.

Nothing has changed, but so much has changed at the same time.  More people have been added to the list of survivors, fighters and loved ones remembered.  I have been added to the list of fighters.  Yet, it brings all of the same emotions back.

My biggest fear is now reality.   http://publiclookin.blogspot.com/2012/06/biggest-fear.html

So, I'm not really feeling up to writing a new serious post this week. This week has been one of my tough weeks.  Not because I'm not feeling well, I feel great. But because of hard appointments and decisions for care and tough conversations and this feeling of empathy that burns a line directly to my soul and because this week was already going to be hard enough. One of the weeks where I could get stuck at the bottom of the hill of this roller coaster, but I'm choosing to climb back up.  Slow and steady, but I'm getting there.

Friday will make me a stronger person.  Friday is Relay Day:

It is both a day that I anticipate and dread.

It is a reminder that people win the fight! The survivor lap is proof. All cancer survivors take a lap together and wear a different colored shirt in honor of their fight. When they take their lap so many thoughts flood my mind. I think about walking over to my friends workplace to give her a prayer shawl and how beautiful she looked that day despite her fears. Tears start to form as I think about the time that I stopped by Heidi's house and she opened the door without her wig on. It makes me smile to think of when Cheryl and Jess realized at bunco that they endured treatment together so many years ago and joked about how they look much different with hair and color in their skin! How difficult it must have been for Jess to move away when her Dad was still completing his treatment regimen. I vividly remember when Amy called to tell me that Danny had lung cancer. I wish Amanda didn't have the scars to prove she's a survivor. I wish Matt didn't have to have a Happy Cancer Day! I think about how they fought so hard and won! Through the treatments, the hair loss, the damaged vocal chords, the tattooed eyebrows, the new boobies, the doctors appointments and so much more. I can't even fathom what it is going through their minds!

It is a reminder of sweet, handsome Connor who is currently fighting the dreaded C word. He is already a warrior and he's only 9 (He's 10 now;))! How his loving parents have to explain why and what is going on with his body. "He's had good days and bad days. Mouth sores, nerve pain and nausea. There was about ten days straight that I think he threw up at least once a day." -Sarah, Connor's Mom You can follow the rest of his treatment here: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/connorrequena And CONTINUE TO pray for him daily.

It is a reminder of the very powerful bond that was created when I went over to drop off a little love to Rhiannon when she was having her hair shortened.   A reminder of her strength as she continues to fight. 

It is a reminder of a friends dad who lived so much longer than his stated odds. That lived his life to treasure each moment.  That smiled every chance he gotrode his motorcycle when he was able and cherished his time with his family.  Always kept his faith in our Lord above.  Who we laid to rest this year and celebrated his life.

It is a reminder that it doesn't get any easier when I hear about a friend that has to watch their parent grow weak and pray for miracles because I know the pain that they are experiencing too well.

It is a reminder of medical terms and brain mets. Out of town visitors and meaningful time with family. Hospice rooms and final goodbyes.

It is a reminder that eventually I'll have to visit the funeral home again because of cancer until the cure is found.

It is a reminder of the deadly disease that stole my dad, Tammy's mom, Andrea's mom, Heather D's dad, Heather J's dad, so many, too many.

It is a reminder that the stupid *#$&(^)!@$&@#*^&(# cancer is in my body right now.   A reminder that I will finish the chemo soon and I will have surgery and have to wake up to hear whether they were able to get clear margins.  That this roller coaster ride is one that I will be on forever now. 

But is also a reminder of HOPE.

Hope that I see every day in my children. In the unexpected and unexplainable gifts that I have received. The never ending prayers and eased burdens and shared stories and just pure love that you all continue to share with me.

Hope for the cure so my babies can walk only to celebrate, not to remember.

Friday I relay. Sunday is Father's Day.  The third year I will not buy a golf shirt and golf balls. Emotional is an understatement.

With tears in my eyes, I hope for a cure. I hope that each day I make my Dad smile down at me at least once. I hope that those that are battling find comfort in His promises to us. I hope that the survivors know how proud I am of them.
I hope for miracles.
 
I hope for a cure.


Friday is relay day. Remember. Love. Hope.
 
 
 



 

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Shit happens, but what happens when it doesn't?

Everyone knows the expression "SHIT HAPPENS", but what about the times in your life that it doesn't?!

Well, one or two or maybe all of the new drugs combined have made it difficult for me to make shit happen! 

All of the sudden 5 days have gone by and I think to myself, "Shit, I haven't shit in days!".  And then I look at my ever-growing beer gut (that is not currently being fed with beer and it's NOT happy about this) and realize I'm bloated and constipated!

WONDERFUL.  This is just wonderful!  What do I do now?? (I've never had this problem before.)

So, I tell one of my MUCH older friends about my latest pooping problem and she drops off some collase to assist in dropping the kids off at the pool. But, it's too late!  My butt isn't happy with me and my hemorrhoids have decided that they want to come out to play.

Well, hey, it's been a while!  I thought I told you that I didn't want to have a relationship with you anymore?  I didn't miss you!  You can climb back in and not rear your ugly head again...the rest of my life.

It was too late by this time though and my roids were unbearable.  At one point I thought I was going to black out when I tried to make shit happen!

Prophylactic (one of the new terms that my doctors use ALL the time instead of preventative) stool softeners from here on out.  I'm breaking up with the roids forever.  They're pretty much assholes.

 

 

Monday, June 3, 2013

Old Pine


 
 
Nothing new to report.  Nothing profound to write about.

But not because I'm sick or too tired-because I've been busy living. 

"Careless and young, free as the birds that fly with weightless souls"
 
 

When Aaron and I were younger, a couple of our favorite things to do together were camping and listening to live music together. (I think he will agree with this assessment?!) The song "Old Pine" by Ben Howard reminds me of this time in our lives when we were careless and young.  I fell in love with it the very first time it was playing in our house.  I don't often ask who sings a song, I just listen to whatever he plays, but this one had me with just a few strums on the guitar. This weekend we listened to live music and stayed at my uncle's trailer (much easier than camping with three little ones)...still a couple of our favorite things to do together.

"We stood steady as the stars in the woods,
so happy-hearted and the warmth rang true inside these bones"

 
If you haven't noticed, I'm not sitting around feeling sorry for myself, even when I don't feel well.  I am standing steady and happy-hearted as I try to take in all of the beauty around me.

Friday night we pretended we were young and carefree.  We did one of the things we used to do best: sat and listened to one of our forever friends rock out.  We giggled with each other about how the times have changed and how crazy we were so many years ago.  After listening for a couple hours, I asked if he was ready to leave and he said he wanted to stay a little longer.  Aaron doesn't ask for much and I was feeling fine, just a little tired, so I happily obliged and listened for a while longer. 

Earlier in the evening both JB and Mark, the members of Rockoustic, asked if I wanted to hear anything.

 Joking (but bratty), I said: "Yes, I already put on your page that I want you learn a song for me."  (Like they're just supposed to drop everything and learn a song when I request it;))

They both shrugged me off and asked if I wanted to hear anything OTHER than that?

"No, I'm happy with the playlist so far, but thanks for asking."

Sam, Jon's fiance, even went as far as telling me a white lie: "Mark doesn't want to learn that song."

So, we listened to them play a little bit longer.  I thought fondly of the many nights we listened to them play during our youth.  And then I heard a familiar strum on the guitar.  I had to listen for a few moments, but I knew quickly what they were playing and my eyes started to fill with tears.

They did learn the song for me!  I responded that I was coming and the very same day, both of them listened and learned. Over and over again they played the song so that they could play it live that night.

And I was happy-hearted and I thank the stars above for that moment as time seemed to stand still.

"Hot sand on toes, cold sand in sleeping bags, I've come to know that memories were the best thing you ever had"
 
I'm trying REALLY hard not to overschedule.  I'm attempting to live more slowly and see more clearly. Saturday we planned to go to the lake if it was nice and stay home if it was going to rain.  It was exactly in the middle, but at the last minute we decided to go to the lake.  Just our little family, away from the crazy-busy for a little while.

Sparklers, golfcart rides, ice cream, books on the deck, relaxing with my babies, long naps, walking hand in hand with the loves of my life.

**Not like, "Ok family, hold hands and walk away from the camera and I'll take a picture." No, this was completely unplanned and spontaneous and perfect. I grabbed Aaron's hand and Keegan weezled his way in between us and Lilly and Cami grabbed each of our free hands.  And my heart leaped with joy. It is etched into my soul instead of a photograph.  I can see it even more clearly than I could if it were on canvas when I close my eyes tight.
 
 
 

"I've come to know the friends around you are all you'll always have"

We ended with the weekend with a house full of friends and I couldn't be happier when I'm surrounded with so many people that I love.  Tons of food, lots of smiles and even more monsters filled the backyard. 

You won't always have your health, you won't always have the best car or house, you won't always win, but you'll always have the ones you love. 

Because they are part of you.

Hoping and praying to grow, MUCH older still.

"We grow, grow, steady as the morning
We grow, grow, older still
We grow, grow, happy as a new dawn
We grow, grow, older still
We grow, grow, steady as the flowers
We grow, grow, older still
We grow, grow, happy as a new dawn
We grow, grow, older still"


 
 
Last of the A&C treatments on Wednesday #4 of 8 total. Since I know what to expect, of course it's time to change it up;)  I start the T drug (Taxol) after this treatment and this new drug offers an entirely different set of possible side effects. 
 
We are also meeting with a plastic surgeon and the genetic couselor during this round. 

In other related news, the two things I THOUGHT would be ok during this stupid treatment: no more shaving my legs and a little weight loss, ARE NOT HAPPENING!!! I think my leg hair has stopped growing, but I guess I'm going  to have to break down and shave them one more time for the summer AND I'm GAINING weight!!! Unbelievable! My body hates me! 
 
Aaron might have to physically place me in the car and strap me in this week.  I feel so good and don't want to feel like poo again.
 


Memories are the best thing you'll ever have. 
 
Spend time making them.

Love,

 

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Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Adults say the darndest things!




First of all, please know that I'm not offended when and if you say things like this to me, but I'm writing this so that you're more aware in the future of how the things you say might be...hmmm...well, quite simply put, WRONG.  I'm fairly certain that along with the faulty brca gene, I'm also missing a few sensitivity genes, so when people make comments like this to me, I just smile and shake my head.  However, I'm sure that not all people that have diseases are quite as immune to comments that are rather insensitive.

We've all heard the saying: Kids say the darndest things, but what I've found to be more accurate since my diagnosis is that kids say the most truthful things and adults say the darndest things!

I have had many kids ask me why I'm wearing the scarfs/beanies. I explain to them that I have cancer and that the medicine that the doctors are giving me also makes my hair fall out.  Some of them have asked if it hurt when it fell out, others asked it will grow back, and some were satisfied with simply knowing why I was wearing the scarf.

Adults, well, as my hair falls out, I continue to get things like this from them:

"You look like a lesbian"  (Absolutely nothing against gay or lesbian people.  I have many friends that choose this lifestyle and I was not at all offended by this statement. Yet, for some people it's probably not what I would consider a compliment.)

"I can't believe you lost your hair already!" (Really people, it's not fun to lose your hair.  Implying that it's gone more quickly than you anticipated doesn't make the person that's pulling their hair out in clumps feel any better!  On a bad day, I might have snapped: I can't believe you're wearing that shirt in public!)

"You look like a fortune teller, will you buy my lottery ticket?" (If I were a effing fortune teller, I would have had my tatas taken off a few years ago and avoided the chemo and radiation, dumb ass.)

"With the scarf and those big earrings, you look like a pirate!" (I do like to dress up for Halloween, but mostly because my lover has a kick ass party.  NOT because I want to look like a pirate every day.)

"How is Aunt Jemima doing this morning?" (Obviously better than you because you're an ass.)

"I didn't think you liked to wear the head diapers (chemo beanie)?"  (Actually, you're the one that said you like the scarfs better.  I just want to have something on my head when I walk out the door, but thanks for referring to my head wrap as a diaper!)

"Take that thing off.  You're cute enough to go bald." (From a person that doesn't even know my name, simply works in my office building.  Really, if I wanted your opinion, I'd ask, but in the meantime, why don't you shave your head and see what it's like to have everyone stare at you with pity when you walk by?)

"Are you feeling ok?  You don't look like you're feeling well." (Actually, no, I feel like crap!  I just had my second chemo treatment and shaved my head.  I feel like crap and I'm in a very public place trying to live my life.  Thanks for pointing out that I look as well as I feel!)


So far, this is my favorite.  Wait for it, wait for it!

After discussing all of the ailments that the person was suffering from (I pretended to feel ok even though I felt like crap and it hurt to open my eyes), they said: "I almost wish I had cancer instead." (After the shock and disbelief of what they said wore off a little, I still really don't have any words or comeback for this one!!! Instead I just shook my head and went on with my day.)

I hope you all got a little smile out of the responses that I want to give to people when they say these things and please know that I'm not at all hurt by some of the crazy things that come out of your mouths.  I just thought I'd share some of the things that might be better left unsaid in the future as you deal with people that have cancer.

AND since I'm giving you examples of things NOT to say, here a few tips for appropriate things to say!

BIGGEST, BESTEST ADVICE I CAN OFFER: 
 ACT NORMAL!!!
 
I'm still the same bratty, loud mouth, crazy person as I was with hair.  "Hey brat, how ya doing?" with a nice (GENTLE-some days I'm pretty achy) hug and "I'm thinking about you/praying for you!" Would be splendid:) 
 
If you like scarf or beanie, feel free to say it.  If you have questions about the scarf, the hair, the treatments, feel free to ask. 
 
BUT, if you think I look like a genie, gypsy, pirate, syrup spokesperson, or that I'm wearing a diaper on my head, please feel free to keep it to yourself!

3 of 8 done!! The doctor could feel a noticeable difference in the mass (smaller and more squishy like boobies are suppposed to be) and the lymph nodes are small enough she had to search for them!) Thanks for the pillow and blanket, Martha!! Heidi's joining us for the next round, so I'm sure she'll pretend she's a paparazzi and there will be more photos;)
 

I wore the wig for the first time when I went to visit with Sarah Beth Blakely and Ashley Lowry.  They both liked it just fine, but I only left it on for the first hour of our visit and it didn't feel right so I put the diaper back on my head!
 
TOTALLY WISH CANCER WOULD GET CANCER AND DIE!!  Thanks, Becca!


Some of the most amazing women I know!



Awesome birdhouse from Rich Harman














 Lots of other goodies, but sometimes I don't feel like snapping photos...or moving off of the couch:)  One of Lilly's girlfriends bought her an angel pin and I got the same one from one of my friends so she thinks that's pretty awesome and wore it to school today:) (Thanks, Carrie Kutchenriter and Kelly Biggert)

OH, and my sneaky friends had an oven delivered while we were at treatment last week!!!! I was complaining that my stupid oven decided it doesn't want to work and poof, there's a new one!!

And my mother-in-law came over with a bag full of much too generous goodies from her bunco group.  I promise that someday I'll get around to writing thank-you's!! But, seriously, you guys are too much!! (And I hope my bunco crew is as super awesome in wait, how many years have you been playing together?? 100?? :))






 
SOOOOO VERY BLESSED.
 
Lots of love,

 

Monday, May 27, 2013

Honored to share this piece by Matthew Thieroff

2013 Memorial Day Speech presented by Matthew Thieroff 


Thank you. I am extremely honored and proud to speak with you all today.  When I started to write this speech, I was finding it very difficult to get all of my emotions out onto paper.  I realized the only way to give a heart felt Memorial Day speech was to tell you my story, to tell you what this day means to me.  For most, it’s a three day weekend filled with barbeques and picnics.  For others, it marks the beginning of summer and the opening of swimming pools.  And for some, it holds a much more personal significance.  Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces.

As a kid, I knew what Memorial Day stood for, but today, it holds a much stronger meaning to me.  In 2001, at the age of 20 years old, I enlisted into the United States Army as an infantryman.  I signed up to earn some college money and to begin my adult life.  There was part of me that wanted to serve my country, but I did so for mainly selfish reasons.  Serving in the Army had many great benefits. I had a steady pay check, a free place to live, and health insurance.  I would go to work, train, and then come home to my wife.  In August of 2001, my oldest son Logan was born. Life was great. And then, out of nowhere, our country was attacked on 9/11.  It was at that moment that I understood the oath that I had taken.  I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  I knew what was going to be asked of me, I was going to be leaving for war.  

In February, 2003, I left my family to take part in the invasion of Iraq.  Saying goodbye to my family was very difficult, but I was ready to answer the call.  I was young, well trained, and in the company of great men and women. I wasn’t scared, I felt invincible.  Nothing could happen to me, right?  That mindset changed very quickly.  With every explosion and gun shot, the fear level rose… but so did my respect for my fellow soldiers.  Regardless of how dangerous the mission or how scared a soldier was, they answered the call.  Day in and day out, I saw people risk their lives for others. On one mission, a good friend of mine, SPC Brandon Olson, was hit in the heal with shrapnel from an IED.  We started taking fire from many buildings, but couldn’t see anyone.  A few soldiers ran to our wounded friend and moved him to a safe place, shielding him from fire while they placed a tourniquet on his leg.  Brandon would eventually have his leg amputated due to infection, but luckily, no one was killed in the attack. As a matter of fact, not one of the soldiers in our company was killed during our year in Iraq. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to see one of my close friends die in battle, but what I can attest to is the level of honor, courage and bravery these men and women exhibit in combat.  How many people do you know that would run into gunfire, sacrificing their lives, for something bigger? I can’t explain how important it was for me to witness these heroes in action.  I can’t explain what it feels like knowing that so many men and women have given their lives in situations similar to this.  I guess some things just can’t be put into words.


In January, 2004, I returned home from Iraq and continued my service at Ft. Carson, Colorado. I made a new home with my family, made many new friends, and was given the position of squad leader. Army life had changed drastically from my first year in the service.  There was more time away from home and much more training.  After all, we were a country at war and more was expected of its soldiers.  During one of my training missions, I sustained injuries to my feet that caused me to see a doctor.  The doctors informed me of numerous injuries to my feet that would prevent me from continuing my service as an infantryman.  I was given the option to either pick a new career in the Army or to be medically discharged.  After much discussion with my family and friends, I decided to leave the Army and get an education.  

I then informed my soldiers that I would be separating from the Army.  It is something that is very hard to do.  I trained very hard with these young men, and knew that one day they would be deploying and fighting without me.  But I was very comforted by the news that my friend, SGT Alberto Sanchez, would be taking my place as squad leader.  He was a very motivated and intelligent guy.  I had no worries about the well-being of my soldiers under his guidance.

In October, 2005, I was medically discharged from the Army and started to adjust to civilian life back here in Woodville.  I was going to school, working, and spending a lot of time with my family.  One day, I received a call from an old Army friend, Shaun.  I could tell immediately that something was wrong and that he was upset.  He informed me that 4 soldiers that we had served with were killed in action. PVT Chistopher Palmer, PFC Tyler MacKenzie, SPC Joshua Munger, and SPC Benjamin Smith were killed in Bagdad, Iraq, by and IED. I sat there, quiet, not knowing what to say. It was the first time Shaun and I had to experience losing one of our brothers.  Later the next year, on April 13, 2006, SPC Andrew Waits was killed in action by another IED in Bagdad, yet another friend I served with in Iraq.  Anytime you hear about a fellow soldier being killed in action, it takes your breathe away.  It doesn’t get any easier each time it happens.  But this next incident has affected my life more than any.

On June, 24, 2006, SSG Alberto V. Sanchez was killed in action by an IED near Balad, Iraq.  My friend and fellow Noncommissioned Officer, who had taken over my position when I departed the Army, was killed leading his troops in combat.  It’s very hard to talk about my feelings of unworthiness, my regret, and all the “what ifs” that deal with the loss of my brother SSG Sanchez.  Rather, I would like to share with you a story that my mother gave to me a few weeks ago.


Our Life is Not Really Our Own

By: Daris Howard


As Memorial Day rolls around, I am reminded of a story that I heard.  Though the exactness of it I can not confirm, I am assured its basis is quite factual, and its message definitely deserves to be retold.

The story is of a man, Andrew, who was known all his life for selfless sacrifice and good works.  He always stood in defense of the defenseless, and toiled without tiring, standing up for the downtrodden and underprivileged.  As he grew old, and people tried to honor him for his well-lived life of service, he was reluctant to accept the praise and attention that his community desired to heap upon him.  It was then, for the first time, that he told a story that had burned deep in his heart and was hard for him to relate.


Andrew was a young man, thirteen years old and living in Austria, when the Germans invaded.  The Austrians, brave and proud, decided to fight back.  In the town where Andrew lived, the men and teenage boys organized and destroyed a power plant that the Germans relied on to continue their war effort.  The men and boys all knew this would cause great hardship on themselves as well, for they relied on that power plant.  But the thing they had not counted on was the swift and severe retribution that would come from the Nazi invaders.


The next morning, before the sun was even up, trucks rolled into town.  Soon, he sound of marching soldiers was heard in the streets.  The men and boys of the town, twelve years old and older, were ordered to the town square.  Andrew found himself standing in a line with the other men and boys, still trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.


The commanding officer berated them, and told them they were fools to think they could stand against the might of the German Army.  He told them they were nothing, and their minuscule efforts would not slow down the German war effort, but it would hurt them because a price was going to be paid for their rebellion.  He then said that every 20th man in line would be shot.


As each 20th man was pulled from the line and marched away, Andrew looked down the line and started counting.  With horror, he realized that he stood in a 20th position.  He trembled with fear as the soldiers moved closer and closer to him, and the shots started to ring out at the edge of town where the unfortunate men were being taken.


As the Germans continued to move down the line, Andrew could see others counting and their eyes turned to him with a look of pity and concern.  Andrew found himself wanting to flee, but too frightened to move.  Even if he tried to run, the soldiers on the trucks, with the mounted machine guns, would cut him down before he could get ten yards.

But then, in the instant that the last man before Andrew was pulled from the line, the Germans turned their eyes away, and Andrew felt a hand on his shoulder.  The hand tightened quickly, and before he knew what happened, he was jerked forcibly over one spot, and the old man who had been standing next to him moved swiftly to switch positions.


Andrew looked up at the silver haired man and the man smiled.  Just before he was taken from the line and led away, the old man spoke quietly to Andrew. “Your life in no longer just your own.  Live it for both of us.”


Andrew watched silently as the old man disappeared from view toward the edge of the village.  His heart jumped as the shots sounded, shots that Andrew knew should have been his own.  In that instant, tears flowing down his face, he determined he would indeed live his life for both of them. From that day he had tried to live so that the unknown old man would have felt his sacrifice was well repaid.



Each time I consider the flags flying by the many graves in the cemetery, thinking back on Andrews story, I realized that no one’s life belongs to just them.  Each of us owes a debt to many who have paid prices through hardship, hard work, and even the sacrifice of their lives, from which I have benefited.

 

I want to thank you all for coming today.  Through all the wars and conflicts that this great country has fought, over 1.3 million men and women have given their lives defending our country.  Thousands of families had mothers and fathers; sons and daughters; husbands and wives; and sisters and brothers taken from them… paying the price for the freedom we enjoy today. When we all leave here today, we will be joining our families for cookouts, opening our swimming pools, and preparing to enjoy the summer and the great weather it brings.  Enjoy your time with your families today, but know that it was paid for by our fallen heroes.  Our lives are not really our own.  God bless you all.  Thank you.



In memory of SSG Alberto V. Sanchez 



http://image2.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2006/187/14733683_115231286521.jpg



101st Airborne. The complex they lived in in Iraq.
Easter Sunday in Iraq
SPC Shaun Muldoon and Brandon Olson.
SPC Brandon Olson first steps on prosthetic.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Be Ready & Cancer Aware

The day after my hair starting falling out in clumps was the worst day for me since my diagnosis.  Not because my hair started to falling out by the handful.  Not because when Camille played with my hair little pieces were flying everywhere.  Not even because I felt like a Mac Truck ran me over.

NOPE. Not any of the things you expect with cancer treatment, but something so much worse. So much more damaging to my life than having to deal with cancer.

"Hello, Laura.  It's Rebecca, did I wake you?"

"Yes, but I've been waiting on your call.  What's the word?"

"Well, your BRCA genetic results are in and as we suspected, you have a BRCA gene mutation.  We're going to need to meet to discuss the results.  Can you invite Heidi to the appointment as well? We'll talk about who else I think you should contact as well at the appointment.  I assume you're going to share the results with your family, correct?"

"Thanks, Rebecca.  I'll give Heidi a call and yes, I'll make sure that the rest of my family is aware."

Thank God I have decided to send the monsters to the babysitters on the Friday following treatment because I needed to be alone.

See, there are a few reasons that I have been so open, honest and public as I share this journey of breast cancer, but the most important reasons are these two beautiful girls. 

 
These two beautiful girls that call me Mommy and tell me that they love me more than I love them, which any mother knows simply isn't possible.  These little monsters that kiss my bald head and have tucked me into bed more often than I've tucked them in this week.  They are the biggest reason that I have shared so openly. 

Mostly because I knew in my heart that this stupid brca gene was faulty even though I hoped and prayed that it wasn't.  Marci bought me a wish necklace shortly after my diagnosis.  I'm sure she thought I would wish my cancer away, never to return again.  I must have gotten a broken wish necklace because my only wish was that this awful, rotten, no good disease wasn't something that I could pass on to my babies.

BUT, it is.

And that's pretty hard to swallow.

A brca gene mutation is something that my children will be screened for when they are 18.  There is a 50% chance that I passed this mutation on to my little monsters.  If Keegan were to test positive for the mutation, it would only elevate his risk of breast cancer slightly.  If the girls were to test positive for the mutation, the odds of developing breast cancer rises from 1-8 to 1-3. 

The genetic counselor mapped out our family history and is suspicious that this mutation is passed down on my father's side.  That's where they want to start testing.  First with Heidi and then my other first cousins and my Aunt.

Heavy, terrible conversations that you don't want to have with people that you love.  EVER.

So, I sat in silence for a while.   I cried for a while.  I felt sorry for myself for a good long minute.

And then I got my game face back on. I texted Heid and called my mom and Aaron.

WHY? 

Because my beautiful babies need to have a few things if they ever have to defeat this beast:

  • AWARENESS- They will be tested and screened starting at the age of 25
  • CANCER FACTS- They will know what to look for, what to feel for and how to advocate for themselves
  • BE READY- They will have all of the tools to fight if it's necessary
  • GRACE- They can turn to any page of this blog and see first hand how to choose grace over fear or sorrow or evil
Only with the grace of God have I come to this conclusion.  Only after prayer and reflection and quite a few tears am I able to get to this place.

BRCA gene mutation: BE READY & CANCER AWARE

Knowledge is power and now we have all of the facts.  Early detection is key to survival and I plan for them to live LONG, healthy lives.  So even if my worst nightmares come true, we will be ready.

I will also, every. single. day., pray that none of my babies have to deal with this stupid disease.

I walked into the office the day after drafting this post to ALL of my co-workers telling me about Angelina Jolie...She is looking at the "faulty" gene as BE READY & CANCER AWARE!! 
http://wonderwall.msn.com/movies/angelina-jolie-reveals-double-mastectomy-in-ny-times-op-ed-piece-24886.gallery