I couldn't sleep the night before my port a cath removal surgery. What if the surgery left a big hole in my chest that never healed? What if I can't work out again? A big case of the what if's. I gave myself a self-Reiki treatment, read a few affirmations from Louise Hay's You Can Heal Your Life, and watched (aka previewed so I'm a little bit mentally prepared for it) a few DVDs from Cathe Friedrich's new Low Impact Series. 

I woke up with an uneasy feeling in my gut about going through with the port removal. I called a dear spiritual  friend and asked for guidance. He knows me very well and knew the right questions to ask to guide me to a calmer place and form a plan. I decided to go, but ask the surgeon some questions and then decide whether or not to have the surgery. My body, my choice. 

Cancer treatment can take away a lot of power and choices in your life. I didn't want to get the port put in, but I didn't get much choice. So in having it removed I wanted more control.

I believe in Angels among us. God blessed me with a sweet Survivor sister Angel as I checked in. I recognized her by her bright teal toenails. A sister in ovarian cancer Survival, Carol greeted me with a hug and asked what I was doing at West Clinic. She was there to pick up a CD of a recent test, so she had a little time. She met my mom and talked with us about the pros and cons of port removal. She understands the depth of such dilemmas. I felt much better after talking with her, and thankful that God always has His hand of love and comfort on me. 

I was foolishly surprised to get an IV stick. It hadn't occurred to me that port removal surgery would require an IV. Funny the things my mind thinks about and the things it completely disregards. Thankfully, the nurse only had to stick me once. Ouchie!! 

I waited with my mom for 90 minutes with the IV in my arm before I even got back to the surgery prep room. The nurse started the paperwork, and I asked questions. Apparently no one has ever asked these questions before, because she didn't know the answers. She asked a surgeon to come talk with me. She couldn't have been kinder or patient with me, and I deeply appreciate it. 

The surgeon was also kind and patient. He said there was no reason not to have it removed, and explained in great detail why and what would happen to my body after it was gone. There's no muscle involved, the port was subcutaneous (just under the skin). This is important info to me as a Cathlete. I didn't want to damage my hard earned muscles! I felt satisfied and decided to have it removed. 

As I started to undress I realized that I wore the wrong shirt. I wore long sleeve fitted shirt because it's a bit cool here. That was the wrong choice because it was painful and awkward to take off over my IV especially when I can barely move my arm. My mom had to help me. ha! 

I climbed onto a very narrow table that I'm surprised that I fit on. The nurse and 2 surgical techs got me and instruments prepped. I made jokes about blood spurting because they had my covered with blue medical paper and the CT scanner covered with a big shower cap like thing. Even though it was Halloween, no blood spurted out. I was given local anesthesia and something to help me relax, but I could feel pain-less pressure of the surgeon cutting out the port and was wide awake. Yep, that's right. It's an amazing and creepy feeling. The surgeon and I had a nice discussion about finance and in a few minutes I was free of the port. 

After it was out I felt the urge to see this port. The nurse cleaned it up and gave it to me to keep. It's like a cancer Survivor's medal of honor. Wanna see? 

Doesn't it look like a tiny computer mouse? It's about 8 inches long and it's about 1/2" thick. No wonder it stuck out of my chest so much! 

I'm relieved to have this foreign object out of my body, yet thankful for the service it provided to me during chemo. I'm going to keep it as a reminder and interesting show and tell piece. 

I'm counting down 10 more days until 1 full year of official remission. I have something fun and special planned for the blog that day. Meanwhile, here's a peek at how much my hair has grown since the last time I shared a picture. It's still dark and really curly, but I can almost put it in a ponytail. I have so much to be thankful for.... 

1 Year Chemo- Free Cancerversary

Today is a special cancerversary for me. A year ago today, at exactly this time, I was getting my final chemo treatment. I was completely bald, and at the point having great pain in the bones of my legs, my feet were numb most of the time, I was very tired and very weak. Still, I was thankful that I had a loving family, especially my Mom who is the best Caregiver in the universe!!, a God who comforts, heals and loves me, sisters who made me feel confident in my beauty to be out in public completely bald and who kept me laughing, for my Peeps who showered me with their love and support in their own special and innocent toddler ways, new and old friends who cheered me on from near and far, and for the precious gift of life even though I was sick. 


Here's a look back at my very first post when I looked like a ghost. (That's right, I'm a poet too. ha!)
http://cancerasmycatalyst.blogspot.com/2010_10_17_archive.html


A year later and I've been in remission just over 10 months. I have a full head of very curly and darker brown hair. I still get tired sometimes, but it's happening much less often. I'm thankful for the energy level I have now, because I still clearly remember what it feels like to not have any energy. I'm still thankful for all the blessings in my life, and I'm grateful that over the last year that list has grown. I'm thankful to own my own business though I work hard and long hours, I get to choose the days and times I work. Sometimes I even get to work in my PJs! I also  get to choose who I work with and when, and I have the opportunity to be Leader and invest my energy into motivating other people to dream big and create wealth for themselves. I'm thankful to my body for amazing me as I completed Cathe's Shock Training System. I'm thankful that I get to spend  a day a week with 2 of my Peeps, and help my sister. 


I find myself with lots of tears today. Tears of joy. Some from the painful memories of chemo. Some for the people I know that won't get to celebrate a year free from chemo, or cancer. Some tears of guilt and confusion.Some of overwhelming thankfulness.  


And some of frustration with my body. About 3 weeks ago I had my first ever sciatica flare/issue/pain. For about a week it was excruciating to stand or walk, or do just about anything else.  Slowly, my body is healing thanks to 2 reflexology treatments and Young Living's essential oils. I haven't been able to work out, and it's extremely frustrating. Cathletes NEED their daily sweat and burn fix!!


Truth is that this sciatica issue, in my left leg, reminds me all too much of the pains of chemo. Instead of the crushing bone feeling, though, I have a burning cord feeling down the back of my leg. My left heel is partially numb. So even though I've come sooooooooooo far in a year, at this moment I'm not feeling it. There's a little voice in the back of head what's wondering if I'll ever be able to work out with Cathe Friedrich's DVDs again. Will I ever walk 100% normally? Will this numbness melt away? These are questions I was asking myself a year ago. It never occurred to me that I'd ask them again.


 I'm healing and I'm believing that I will walk normally again and have normal healthy body again. It happened once, right? 


Happy cancerversary to me! Here's to more cancerversaries to Fighters and Survivors everywhere!! 

http://www.cafepress.com/+fighters_survivors_taken_1_oc_white_tshirt,255977068

Sarah's Thoughts behind the Art, a special guest post

Please welcome my dear friend, Sarah, who graciously wrote a Guest Post about her beautiful and meaningful artwork.... 

There was a lot that inspired me to draw this picture. Originally, when I sat down with my sketch pad I intended to draw some sort of general "cancer support" something or other. So I started thinking about all of the people in my life that have battled cancer. Some have fought and won. Others have fought and lost. As I sat there thinking about all these people and trying to decide on what to draw, I received a text from my dear friend Connie. In that instant I knew it was a sign. I was suppose to create this for her. She is a cancer survivor. She is an amazingly kind, generous and all around awesome human being. Connie has done so many wonderful things for me. I knew at that moment this was suppose to be a gift to her to say "Thank you for being you and being my friend."

I am touched and honored by Sarah's drawing of me. Seeing myself drawn thin is really cool, and is helping me be able to see it actually happening. It's a much appreciated bonus. 

Sarah has drawn me as a strong athlete. This resonates in me because that's how I think and dream of myself, even though my body now doesn't reflect it. I know that all these Cathe Friedrich workouts are transforming my body day by day. 

The color selections in Sarah's piece are packed with special meanings. Purple for all cancer Survivors, and happens to be my favorite color. The upside down placement of the purple ribbons signifies a Survivor. I just learned that last month at an Ovarian cancer Survivor support group. So if you're a Survivor and wear a ribbon flip upside down! 

The  Peach tank top signifying my first cancer win over endometrial, otherwise known as uterine. That first cancer was subtle- much like the color. 

The Teal ribbon is appropriately wrapped around my lower body like a shield. I like that it's big and bold, because Ovarian cancer came into my life big and bold. It also changed my life in positive big and bold ways. 

Sarah even took great care in coloring my eyes green, and drawing my hair into crazy curls. 

I truly love this drawing, and I'm deeply grateful for Sarah's friendship and artistic talents. 

Crossing CrossFit

CrossFit. 


The day after I first published this post fellow blogger, Memphian and cancer Survivor Chris published an awesome CrossFit post. I felt like his post should be included. What Exactly Is CrossFit by chris beat cancer  offers a successful Survivor doing CrossFit perspective. You have my total respect, Chris. 

If you've never heard of it, just don't know much about it, or if you need some fresh exercise ideas spend some time perusing CrossFit Exercises. Be warned- you could be there all day.

Amazing. Crazy. Ultra-challenging. Inspirational. Unfathomable at times. Awesome. And just a tad intimidating. Right?

I have a connection to CrossFit, if you can believe it. This past February through April I participated in an online bloggers body challenge hosted by Strong is the New Skinny bloggers Marsha and Adam. No, I didn't follow a paleo way of eating. No, I didn't do any CrossFitting. But I rubbed virtual elbows with some very cool paleo eating CrossFitters. Remember? It was inspiring.

Since I completed this challenge I've had a lingering curiosity about CrossFit and the paleo way of eating. It whispers to me, eggs me on. Taunts me. I felt pretty safe because I didn't think there were any CrossFit gyms (is that what they're called?) in Memphis. No, I didn't bother checking or searching. I just assumed, and you know how that goes. 

Then I went to my suburb's first farmer's market a couple Saturdays ago and found myself standing in front of a CrossFit gym. Then I found myself standing INSIDE said CrossFit gym. That's right- 

inside. 

CrossFit Bartlett played a very big role in bringing a farmer's market into the community, and I'm very grateful. So on the market's opening day the gym was offering a free look-see and workout. I was so excited when the lady at the snow cone booth told me about it! (Yes, I'm aware of the irony.) Beyond excited, really. Crazy excited, and giddy. I couldn't wait to go check it out!! 

So my mom and my sister's 3 toddlers and I went in. That's right- all of us. Thankfully, this gym is fairly kid friendly and had some toys. I'm pretty sure there wasn't any A/C though. It was really hot and humid that day. 

It didn't look like any gym I'd ever seen before, but it was the coolest gym I've ever seen. It was also the scariest and most mysterious gym I've ever seen. I wasn't dressed for any kind of workout and had on the wrong shoes, so I was going to just observe. I was disappointed and relieved at the same time. 

The owner of the gym and one of the trainers talked with me for a few minutes. I found myself signing up for a free one on one introduction workout. One of the members- a very kind man- came over to me and explained how the gym worked. I appreciated that act of kindness very much!! I was pretty surprised (and disheartened) that none of them had even heard of Cathe Friedrich, though. 

I watched members perform exercises that I wouldn't think would be humanly possible. 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/crossfitbartlett/page8/

This is some version of a hybrid pull-up/core exercise. Seriously, I watched a guy jump up and grab the bar then pull his toes up to his fingers. My jaw was on the ground. I'm quite sure that I couldn't have even jumped up and held onto the bar. 

The longer I watched and took it all in, the more out of place and uncomfortable I felt. I felt weak and flabby-like an ugly scarred unpopular fat girl that didn't fit in. It was a bummer, because I had been looking forward to the CrossFit experience for quite awhile.

I had found out just a few days before this that I have an incisional hernia, and had been cautioned by my oncologist to wear a very stylish compression belt when I workout. It didn't seem logical that CrossFitting was to become a part of my life. Even more secretly, I wish it could be. 

I left before the exhibition workout started. The kids were antsy and it was really hot. I had to get out of there. I was ball of emotion, and was close tears. I can't do CrossFit workokuts, I knew it in my soul as I walked out the door. I felt very disappointed and frustrated with this body that has survived cancer twice. My oldest niece asked me why we were leaving, and I started crying when I told her the truth- Aunt Connie can't do this, honey. I hated having to tell her that truth. Since the end of chemo 10 months ago I've brought this body and mind a really long way (I thought), but being there made me feel like it wasn't good enough. I don't want to feel like I'm not good enough. 

I couldn't stop thinking about it, though. I had set an appointment, remember? I called my oncologist on Monday, asked the burning question and waited for a call back. My soul was right, I can't do CrossFit according to my oncologist. She thought it was pretty crazy to even consider it, actually. She's probably right, but I didn't like hearing it. 

I'm disappointing and frustrated about it, and a bit relieved too. I felt embarrassed writing the 'sorry I have to cancel my appointment' email to the owner and trainer, but they were both gracious and understanding. 

So, I came across CrossFit, and had to cross it out. 

Perhaps after I lose my extra weight and have the hernia repair surgery I'll be able to try it. I sure hope so. 

Are you a CrossFitter? How did you get into it? Share your experience with me! 

Relief. Joy. Gratitude.

I bet you thought I forgot about the promise I made for a fresh post tonight, didn't you? It's ok to admit it. I almost forgot myself! 

I've been waiting for all the final results to come back before sharing about my last round of post-treatment tests, but I still haven't gotten a call back. I've learned to assume that no callbacks are a good thing for cancer Survivors, so I'm going to just flow with it.

I went through the most tests in the least amount time this go round at The West Clinic. It was wonderful to have so little time in the waiting room! A little bizarre, too.

My 9 month follow up I had tubes and tubes of blood drawn from my Port-a-cath, a chest X-ray, a CT scan and a pelvic exam. It wasn't as bad as it sounds.

My Port worked beautifully once again. Yay!!

I was hoping to get to lay down for the chest X-ray, but I didn't. I just stood there, turned, and turned again. I even got an initial 'all ok'. That's never ever happened. Bizarre, but in a good way. It certainly put me at ease. Just having to have a chest X-ray made me a little anxious. I understand that my oncologist is covering all the bases since I am a two time Survivor, though.

Then I was off to the CT scan waiting area. There were 2 ladies already sitting there. They were talking and giggling a bit. The kind of giggling you do when you're really nervous or scared but fighting through it. I thought they were sisters, but they were mother and daughter. The mother had just been diagnosed, and this was her first CT scan. We didn't sit together very long at all, but I did my best to share some Love and Light with her. The scan made her sick and my heart went out to her. Cancer sucks.

I'm very thankful that they have upgraded the chalky CT scan barium drink to one that tastes like plain water. There's less volume and it's much easier to drink.

During the scan I actually felt a little light headed and nauseous towards the end. That's never happened to me in my long history of CT scans. It passed pretty quickly. That short experience scared me a bit, and made me wonder if feeling a little sick in the scan meant something less than good. Intellectually, I couldn't see how but Survivors don't just think intellectually during tests.

On my way upstairs to my oncologist's office (gyn Survivors have a whole special floor), I stopped in the bathroom to collect myself. I let myself cry for a couple minutes because I needed the stress release. Just being at the West Clinic is emotional for me. All I smell in there is chemo drugs and it's so icky. Then I took a few deep breaths, gave myself a quick self Reiki treatment, and thought about all my blessings.

I figured I would be sitting in the waiting room for at least an hour, but nope. Three minutes later I was in the exam room. My mom was running a bit late, but thanks to text messaging and 45 mile per hour roads between her office and the clinic she slid into the room minutes before the oncologist. Is she good or what? Just another demonstration of her awesomeness!!

Thankfully, my nurse and oncologist noticed that I've lost 17 official pounds since the end of chemo! It was nice to get some recognition and kudos from my medical team. Yay!!

The oncologist went through my questions with me. I'm still not sure when I'll have my Port removed. My onc didn't make a big deal out of that at all, so I won't either. It doesn't hurt, and it's not like anyone but me is rubbing or otherwise feeling it. Once in awhile one of my Peeps elbow me in that one tiny spot, but that's about it. I did find out that removing it won't mess up the chest muscles I've been working so hard on building and strengthening. I was incredibly relieved to hear that good news. I was prepared to keep the Port forever if it meant cutting into my new muscles!!

Then it was drum roll time. My onc sat down at the computer in the exam room to look at my test results. This is the part where I was literally holding my breath, and I bet Mom was too.



NO EVIDENCE OF CANCER!! Whoohoooo!!

However, I do have a small incisional hernia from all the scar tissue next to my belly button. And I have one really huge gallstones and a few smaller ones. Neither issue is causing me any harm right now,  so we're just going to watch and be aware. My onc did encourage me to buy a compression belt to wear while I'm lifting weights. So now I look even cuter when I lift. I'm extra thankful that I workout in the privacy of my own bedroom.

Relief. Joy. Gratitude. Freedom to move forward with my beautiful life as a (now) 10 month Survivor. 

Baby Peep's 1st Birthday & Cancerversary

A year ago today, at about this time, I was almost finished with my very first chemo treatment. This cancerversary is hitting me hard today. I don't really understand why. I've felt overwhelmed with raw sadness and fear a few times today. I had a few hysterical crying meltdowns, even.  I got crabby with the fussy birthday baby boy, and then felt like the worst person on the planet for doing so.

I've come such a long way since chemo, but it feels like I have such a long way to go to earn the title 'fully healthy' again. I don't LOOK like I'm cancer-sick anymore, and that's awesome. However, I still don't LOOK healthy either and that's frustrating. I get angry with myself- with my body- over it sometimes. I do my best to replace that anger, frustration and sadness with thankfulness, peace, and self-love. I kind of forgot about those replacements this morning, but now I remember.

One of the many things I'm thankful for is that the baby Peep of my family was born today. I'm thankful for it because it brings happiness to a day that otherwise wasn't very happy. I'm thankful that I felt good enough to go from my chemo suite directly to the women's hospital. I'm thankful that my sister, Heidi, shared her precious new baby boy with me. I got to hold him very soon after he was born which was a very special treat.

And so did Nana...

I'm thankful for all the time I've gotten to spend with JJ. It was a wonderful gift to have a sweet baby to snuggle with through treatment and these early months of remission.

We've grown hair together, too!

I let his Mama have some snuggle time, too. 

And his Daddy and sister, Kallie, too. 

I've thankful to be able to watch him, and my other Peeps, grow up. 

I'm thankful the laughter and joy my Angel Fish brings to my family.

Happy FIRST Birthday, JJ! 

My 2011 Relay

Ready to go to the Fayette County, TN, Relay for Life walk! The shirt I'm wearing was designed by my sister Heidi's bank branch to raise money for the BancorpSouth Relay team. They've raised almost $4000 which amazing for a small community! Many thanks to BancorpSouth, Amber B, Amber M, Jessica, my sister and all the other BancorpSouth employees who donated their time and talent to a successful Relay event.

You can still buy this Believe shirt (well not THIS exact one, but one exactly like it) and the black Angel wing shirt (below pic shows the back) in short or long sleeve. 

 

If you don't know what Relay for Life is all about click here. It's truly AWEsome, meaningful and touching.

As I promised, I Tweeted from the event, but the cell coverage wasn't reliable and the phone battery didn't hold up to the pressure of taking pictures and Tweeting very well. It was hard to walk and type at the same time anyway. If you'd like to read my Tweets from that evening, click here then click on my Profile to read my history from May 21. 

My Survivor shirt! I felt relieved, joyful, proud and nostalgic putting on this purple shirt. I was thrilled to fit quite comfortably into a smaller size than I did last year, too. 

As always, Relay kicks off with the Survivor lap. I was in the front of the crowd this year because I'm a 'new' Survivor as I've been in Remission for less than a year. That felt surreal. It must be longer than THAT, right? 

This year all the Survivor's were given purple balloons and at the end of the Survivor's Lap we let them go. It was neat, in it's corny way. No, I didn't get a picture of the balloon release. 

The next lap is the Care Giver's lap. My sister Heidi and I walked hand in hand. My other sister and Mom were greatly missed. They have been incredible Care Givers, too. 

This year walking laps was very important to me. I had hoped to walk all night, in the true spirit of Relay, but wasn't physically able and my sister had an obligation Sunday afternoon so she needed some sleep. I am very grateful that I was able to walk for the better part of 5 hours. Last year I wasn't able to do even 1 full hour. The memory of how physically and emotionally exhausted I was at last year's Relay in Fayette County was forefront in my mind this year. 

As I walked I thought of my Nana and the pain and suffering she went through for her cancer treatment. She was such a gentle and kind soul and didn't deserve that, or any, pain. I thought of my friend Shelley's sister who recently went to Heaven after her long battle with cancer. I thought of my friend and Survivor-sister Jessica who is in treatment for a recurrence and did a triathlon that morning. Jessica is such an inspiration! She is a personal trainer who has kept working and working out as she goes through chemo! I thought of my new Facebook friend, fellow Cathlete and Survivor-sister, Carola and the struggles she's been facing trying to start her treatments. I thought of my new friend, Kim, who I had just met that night. She's my Survivor-sister, too and has just begun chemo. I walked for all of us, and all the other Survivors out there and everywhere. I cried, I smiled, I remembered and I walked. 

Anyone who has had cancer is a Survivor, in my mind. It took me a while to think of myself as a Survivor, though. Now a Survivor, to me, is anyone who has heard the words 'you have cancer'. It feels as if your world is ending in those first shocked moments, but right then and there you start surviving- even before you start fighting. 

Remember this pic? October seems soooo long ago!

The most fun I have at Fayette County's Relay is the dancing part of the evening. Around 10pm, when people are starting to get tired, the dance party starts. Heidi and I danced the Electric Slide, Chicken Dance, Macarena, Casper Slide and Cupid Shuffle. I'm don't know the steps to all these dances very well, but I had a blast. I was even able to do all jumps, my once chemo-ed out and sore knees have made huge strides! I was filled with joy and gratitude. I'm not sure if there are any pictures of Heidi and I dancing, but if some (good) ones show up I'll share them with you. 

After a water and snack break, I got back on the track and continued walking. I walked with a thankful heart and mind. My feet and knees were starting to fee sore. I was reminded of the intense pain I felt in my legs during chemo. I wasn't sure if that pain would ever fade. I thought about how strange it had felt to experience such tremendous pain that didn't stem from a physical injury. Feeling pain after a physical injury makes logical sense, right? Pain that comes from medicine that's supposed to be making me 'better' was hard to understand and accept. Feeling pain from walking so long made sense, and knowing that in a day or so I that pain would melt away was comforting. I am in control of my pain, my joy and my thankfulness level. That realization completed the circle of Relay for Life for me this year. 

Flashback to my first ever Relay for Life. Marco Island 2009. 

Around midnight my body had given out, my sister had completed her volunteer duties. We were ready to go home. 
I've come a LONG WAY in a year. I'm thankful for another year to Celebrate. Remember. Fight Back with my fellow Survivors. May we all be able to join together next year.... 

A Year Ago Today...

Today is one of those weird cancer anniversaries for me. A year ago today I found out from my radiation doctor that I could start radiation treatment on the next Monday. It took over a month to get to that point. An exhausting, scary, frustrating month not only for me but for my family, too. Although it may not seem like a big deal to you, a year ago today it was HUGE scary step forward.

Today my medical life is in a different holding pattern. My latest PAP smear results are 'within normal limits'. Relief! I'm still waiting for a callback from my oncologist's nurse with my blood lab results. I'm assuming, perhaps foolishly, that no news is good news. that's how the medical world works in America, unfortunately. There just has to be a study about how stressful it is to wait for test results that never come... But I digress.

A couple days ago my breast center called me and said they needed to schedule a breast ultrasound. No, they didn't find any masses or anything else suspicious. The ultrasound is necessary because of my cancer history. So, it's preventative. Cautious. And scary and unsettling, too. Maybe that's why the anniversary stuck out in my head today.

Here's my 3/18/10 journal entry: (if you'd like to read my journals leading up to radiation and through radiation click here and here)

March 18, 2010
Greetings all! Late yesterday afternoon the radiation doctor finally called me back with news. The original simulation is going to work, yay!! So, my appointment for the final set-up Friday afternoon is a go. Yay for progress!! I will be able to, finally, start treatment on Monday. 
This cancer journey is tough. These are self-centered days for me. I am so grateful for all of your strong shoulders and Spirits that carry me through each day and each battle. Thank you for allowing me to do what's best for me and my healing journey, and loving me through this selfishness each in your own ways. Your strength and love is God's Love in action. 


March 18, 2010 (very late at night)
I should be asleep right now, but sleep and peace are escaping me. This is totally crazy, because I love to sleep and some people would say that I EXCEL in sleep. I know from my readings, my own spiritual journey and hearing about other people's spiritual journeys that God's peace is there for the taking and in fact surrounds all of us all the time. We've just got tap into it.  I've tried to tap into it tonight, but I just can't seem to allow it all the way in. Self Reiki was good...I hadn't made the time for it in months, literally. It was soothing and peaceful, but for some reason the peace didn't settle in for the night. I am out of balance with myself, and am trying desperately to quiet my mind down enough so that I can find that balance, that peace within myself. 
I am afraid. I'm afraid of being afraid, because I know fear is a negative emotion and I know that the last thing I need right now is to draw negative energy to myself. Yet the fear is there lurking in the back of soul. Will it hurt, even though the doctor says it won't? Will cause embarrassing side effects? I have this crazy visions of soiling myself at work- which is totally crazy, right? What if I can't maintain my weight? The technician made a really big deal out of telling me how important it is that I don't gain or lose weight during these 6 weeks of treatment. Usually that's not a problem for me at all, but you know how Murphy's Law works it's way in at the most inopportune times. 
I feel as if tomorrow's final set up appointment is like senior finals in school. It's the end, and the beginning. So much has gone into this final appointment...almost a month's worth of questions, waiting,  changes, then more questions, wondering and waiting. And now it's here and I have to face it. I can't push it out of my mind and pretend it's not happening or dream that it doesn't need to happen. 
The treatment phase begins tomorrow. I feel less ready than I did earlier today, but it doesn't matter how ready I am emotionally or mentally. I know that when the time comes I will face this square in the eye and I will stand tall and strong when it matters. I learned this from my mother, who learned it from her mother.  I need this treatment to heal my body. Somehow, even through my fear and unfortunate insomnia tonight,  I have hope. I hope of being declared CURED. I have the hope of living in balance again. Meanwhile I will trust that this hope will bring me to the people and places that I need to find to return me to a peaceful balance.

Hairy Sprouts

Fight like a Girl!! I'm still doing just that, just in a new way now. My sister, Heidi, gave me this inspirational shirt last year. She's a member of the executive committee for BancorpSouth's Relay for Life team.  Every woman in my family has one, and we all wear it proudly. It's meant a lot to us this past year. I'll share a picture of one of this year's shirts in another post. Stay tuned, it's really really cute!

The front of the Fight Like a Girl shirt. From left to right, my Mom, my sister Sally, my sister Heidi and me. There's a funny glare on one of my front teeth, I assure you that it's NOT a gold tooth. 

My head is sprouting new hair! Yesterday it seemed like there was a little growth happening, but I wasn't really sure until this morning. My hair has started to grow back! Whoohoooo!! This picture doesn't do it justice, but it's not all that visible yet. So far it's coming in dark brown, but don't tell my nieces. They tell me it's purple and then laugh like crazy.