1st Year Anniv

Happy anniversary, happy anniversary, happy happy happy anniversary- to ME!

Exactly one year ago today I heard the beautiful word REMISSION from my gynecologic oncologist. (Here's how I felt last year on this day.)

Formerly-my Marine sent me 2 dozen beautiful roses about a week ago to brighten the celebration. He was so sweet to include peach roses in honor of my first diagnosis of uterine cancer. They were gorgeous, and I deeply appreciate his gift and poetic note. Thank you for remembering and sharing a piece of the celebration, wherever you are serving our country. 

This morning I was really emotional, and had a few crying spells. I cried out of relief for continued Remission. I cried out of feeling overwhelmed with all the things happening in my life that I can't control. I cried over Veterans Day... missing my Bapa (may he Rest in Peace) and missing "my" Marine. I cried for the Survivors that I care about that are in the Fighting stage and aren't feeling the joy of Remission yet. And I cried for those Fighters who will never know the joy of Remission. I cried out of guilt.

Today was a day to celebrate, though. So I shed my tears and then moved forward.

I celebrated by sleeping a bit late, honoring Veterans by doing an oldie but goodie Cathe Friedrich workout called Bootcamp (it's a circuit workout with 8 cycles of 1 minute of cardio, upper body, lower body and core exercises), studying for next week's securities exam, an extra long shower with luxurious shea butter salt exfoliation...

 a delicious lunch of divine twin lobster tails and a shared brownie macadamia nut sundae with the best Caregiver in my world at Bonefish Grill (thank you, Mom!), and topped the celebration off with finding the perfect pair of trouser jeans that I've wished I could fit into for a long time. An absolutely lovely afternoon of celebration!! I'm filled with thankfulness.

I thought it would be interesting to see how my look has changed from the beginning of my second diagnosis in January of 2010 to today... I hope to get back to this first picture soon... but I know that old me is gone. This post treatment look and feel is completely different, and I'm still learning to love and accept this as I strive improve my body and health.

Pre- dx 2 in October of 2009 back in South Florida.

I moved home to West Tennessee in May of 2010, after radiation. Relay for Life in Fayette county was the following weekend. My mom and I shared a big hug before the walk began. 

The day I started chemo, my nephew was born. He was so sweet to wait until my first treatment was over so Mom and I could be there for him and his mama.

A couple weeks later my hair started falling out. This was the short haircut I got to try to delay the process and deal with it emotionally. That didn't last long... This was the night my sister Heidi, my mom and I had a margarita party and shaved my head. 

An interesting look for me... I was so thankful to have a new baby to snuggle up to.

A couple weeks later I got a wig. I only wore it once. It just wasn't me. 

I was just getting used to going bald in public and around the house when this picture was taken in July. 

By the end of July I had accepted being bald fairly well. I only kept these eyebrows and stray strands for a couple weeks. 

My last chemo treatment was 9/15/10 and I got to ring the big bell.  I felt so weak and sick standing out there in the sticky heat, but I was thankful that chemo was over.

Last fall I looked like a ghost. 

Last Halloween.... 

11/11/10- Remission-ing in celebration cashmere.

By early December I had some fuzz on my head again, and I was so glad though I didn't really like how I looked during the re-growth. I was thankful to have eyebrows again.

By January I could sport a faux hawk. I'm wearing my celebration cashmere sweater again here. Yay for cashmere in teal!

By March (remember my trip to Vegas?) I didn't look so much like a chemo patient anymore, thankfully.

By May I had short dark curls that were finally starting to look good to me. This was last year's Relay for Life shirt that my sister and I designed for the Team her employer sponsors every year.

  

August of 2011... curls starting to grow out which is wonderful and awkward too. Can you believe how big and adorable my nephew is now!? So many changes in just a year for both of us... 

Here's how the 'do looks today... the curls seem to be here to stay though I am getting some length. I can put some hair into a ponytail now. There's one curl in the front that does this annoying Michael Jackson thing. I really really hope that grows out soon.

 I'm wearing a new cashmere sweater in celebration of my first full year of Remission. I hope to have a dresser full of celebration cashmere sweaters...

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.... 

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.... 

May 17, 2010- An Anniversary

An excerpt from my Caring Bridge Journal, May 17, 2010

Today is my last day of work and living in Naples, Florida and so I thought a final Florida update would be appropriate. 
I continue to deal with side effects from the internal radiation treatments. It's still burning when I urinate, although I've gotten tougher and rarely cry because of it anymore. Cranberry juice helps take the edge off the burning, but there's only so much sugary juice I can handle in a day. My tummy problems have calmed down quite a bit, though I still have to be careful about what I eat or else my body screams and fusses. I'm slowly adding in fresh veggies (mostly salads, because I totally love salads and miss them so much!) and whole grains into my daily life. The fatigue that radiation causes is waning, although now I'm tired from all the packing, sorting, and trips down the stairs to the garbage cans. All the work that has gone into moving has paid off. I am ready to go, and all my preciouses are boxed up and piled up in the dining room. I hope it all fits in the mini-van.........eeeekkk!

I had a PET scan last Tuesday to see if there's any metabolic activity (which means cancer activity in PETscanese). I will get the results of that scan tomorrow (Tuesday) morning at my final meeting with my gyn oncologist here in Florida. I already have an appointment with my new gyn oncologist in Tennessee, it's May 26th. It's amazing to me how well speciality doctors and their offices can work together- sometimes. My FL gyn onc's nurse got my referral for me, made sure that the new gyn onc is on my insurance (she is, yay!), and made sure my records got transferred. So, it IS possible and I am thankful for it. My friends and co-workers are throwing me a Farewell Party after work today. After the party, we're loading up the mini-van (hopefully with some help from the big strong guys at the party) so that once I leave the condo in the morning to go to my doctor's appointment in Fort Myers we can just keep going North. 

Today~

I can't believe it's been a year since I've been home. I've been through soooo much this past year. I've been in remission for 8 months now. WhooHOOO! I'm an Aunt to 5 adorable Peeps now. I've started and been successful at a new career after leaving my job in Florida. I've lost almost 20 pounds!! I've gone from a physically sick person who literally couldn't stomach fresh clean foods (I know it sounds crazy!) and didn't have very much strength or stamina for workouts to a relatively healthy consistent exerciser (I'm a Cathlete!) who is, thankfully, able to digest clean foods again. 

My list of things to be thankful for has grown exponentially. My group of friends, supporters and Survivor-Sisters has grown beautifully, too. I've gone from long wavy hair to 100% bald to really curly growing-out hair. 

I've gone from 2 sisters physically near to me, to one that's in Texas now.  I miss her and those precious 3 Peeps deeply. I've gone from being too physically tired to walk up the stairs after radiation, to not having the physical strength to walk up the stairs during chemo, to being in intense pain while walking up or down the stairs after chemo, to walking the stairs normally. 

Big and little changes and improvements... I'm thankful for each one of them as they have brought me here today. And today is very good. 

Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind. ♥ Lionel Hampton

Easter 2011 vs 2010

My life is dramatically-and wonderfully- different this Easter than last Easter.

Last Easter I was almost halfway through my external radiation treatments. 

This Easter I've been in remission for 7 months.

Last Easter I worked a 8 hour shift by myself in a beautiful resort on Marco Island, Florida.

This year I got to spend the holiday with Mom, one of my sisters and her Peeps. I missed my other sister and her Peeps very much.

Nana and 'Lily'

My sister Heidi and her daughter (aka 'my' Lily)  

The baby of the whole family

Last Easter I was dealing with a terrible allergy flare up in addition to the unpleasant side effects of radiation.

This Easter I have essential oils to relieve my allergies in a gentle and all natural way.

Last Easter weekend my sister Heidi cut off her long curly hair and donated it to Locks of Love in my honor. Today most people would never know I was bald a few short months ago.

Last Easter was my other sister's, Sally's, birthday. 

This year Easter is late. I still don't understand why.

Sally and 2 of her Peeps (I call them Georgie Boy and  Cupcake.)

Last Easter I was just beginning to read the Anti-Cancer Book. 

This Easter it's my new normal way of eating.

Last Easter I was dating a man, but it didn't work out. 

This Easter a man I've loved for a long time, and who is serving his country overseas, sent me flowers to celebrate Easter and my Remission. The note included this quote by Emily Bronte~ 

There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou - Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed. 

Last Easter my body wasn't able to work out as hard as my mind wished.

This Easter I started Week 3 of Cathe Friedrich's Shocking Training System.

This is me pre-cancer #2, October 2009, on the back porch of my old Florida home.

I am thankful that I have so much to be thankful for this Easter. 2011 Easter wins, definitely.