I'm the girl who wouldn't wear PINK

Two weeks ago today I had my last chemo treatment!
Woot, woot, Holla!!!!!!!

Still a little numb & sore, but I have mostly come out of all that crap.

Woot, woot, Holla!!!!!! 

I even enjoyed an adult beverage or two last night. I haven't had more than a 1/2 a glass of anything in months, so the tolerance is gone
Woot, woot, Holla!!!!!!


And, in the last week, I did something I've never done in my life...bought a PINK shirt.  No big deal, right? SUPER BIG DEAL for me, 'cause I'm the girl who wouldn't wear PINK. Mom says the last time I wore PINK was probably when I was 2 and she was still dressing me. So, that's about 33 years of un-PINKness for this girl.

So what was so special about this PINK shirt?? I bought it from a group called Guardians of the Ribbon, which promotes cancer awareness & healing for women with all types of cancer, not just breast cancer. This group and 'Nicki', their PINK fire truck, was in Lindsborg this past weekend for an event called "Battle of the Buses," sponsored by Lindsborg Community Hospital. This was a kick-off event for fundraising efforts for the PINK FUND at the Hospital - to assist locals with the costs associated with cancer screenings. Happenings throughout the day included a 'Bling Your Bra' art show, a hamburger feed and a fire truck pull. Such a fun day!!!

And I'm here to tell you, pulling a fire truck is hard work!!!  Seriously hard!! I had 6 big, strapping guys on my team and us 4 women were no slouches, but it seemed like it took forever for that fire truck to move! See the video below, and notice the 'cheaters' we had pushing from behind - which we didn't know about until we saw the video later!

Pulling Nicki

The best part of the day was my kids getting to sign their names on Nicki. This fire truck is covered with messages written by survivors & their families. It was a great visual for my kids, getting to see just how many lives are affected by this awful thing we call cancer.

I don't have millions to give away, and you probably don't either (but if you do...call me!!), but every little bit we do to support each other in this fight gets us that much closer to a cure.

And for a cure, I'll wear PINK every day.

Stay calm and breathe...

"But it's the LAST one," my brother said to me for the 3rd or 4th time. I think he even said it when we weren't talking about chemo at that particular moment. He was trying to wrap his head around it, just like I have been the past couple of days.

Thoughts of everything I want to do race in my head, but I have to put the brakes on and remind myself that while it WAS the last chemo, I'm not finished with treatment yet. First off, the side-effects of the chemo have to work their way out of my system. The achy-ness, the fatigue, the numbness in my hands & feet, the way things still taste a bit off. Oh, and hair. MAN, do I want hair!

But the thoughts of side-effects still don't erase the fact that I want a margarita party with everyone I know in attendance. That I want the biggest slice of chocolate silk pie you've ever seen - hell, give me the whole pie! That I want to jump in the car with my kids and travel & see everything there is to see in this wonderful nation, then the world. More than anything, I'm ready to live again, not just exist.

Now, on to the Adventures in Mammogram-Land...
When you're a woman and your doctor schedules a mammogram, your inner-voice automatically begins to whine like a petulant child - "I don't WANNA do a mammogram!!!!" Even if a mammogram has saved your life, it is still the shits. Some stranger, who feels just as awkward & nervous as you, gets to feel up your 'girls' and then put them in a vice-grip & THEN take a picture! Of all the medical tests that are out there, I believe mammograms should require dinner & drinks first. At my first mammogram this year, the tech totally agreed with me. She thought there should be tequila shots available for everyone in the waiting room, even for her.

So, Thursday, (the day after my LAST chemo!!) I had to have not one, but 2 different kinds of mammograms - double torture! After the boobie squishing, I wasn't sure there was a more uncomfortable way to check the girls. Guess what??? I found it - MRI mammograms!!! Holy beans. I'm pretty sure the CIA developed closed-MRIs as a method of torture. In a nut-shell (pun intended), it was total sensory deprivation.

This test involved everything: I had to have an IV. They forced "contrast" dye into my system. I had to lay face-down on a table and put my 'girls' in their own slots, so they're just hangin' there. They put headphones on me so I could hear 'music' to distract me. Then they rolled me back into a tiny tube.

So, there I am, poked, prodded, hangin', blind, deaf & trapped. Then the noises started. Seriously, I thought I had landed in some far-off space battle. Beeps, blasters, laser cannons - any noise you've heard in a Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica movie was coming out of that machine. Holy shit. Um...hello?? Where was the "music?" Maybe that was a bit of guitar hidden behind the alien annihilation soundtrack I was being treated to.

And the worst thing, while you're thinking you're being attacked, and you can't see, and you're still in a tube, YOU HAVE TO STAY CALM & BREATHE. WHAT??? For the love of Pete, this test sucks.

But I survived it, and am better for it. Right? Sure. Luckily, this test isn't ordered for every women, so hopefully you're escape it. My next step is radiation, which sounds like an absolute breeze compared with chemo and MRIs. Let's hope for the best. I go in on Sept. 19th to have radiation set up and get tattooed. Yep, that's right tattooed! Sucks that I had to get cancer in order to make myself get a tattoo. :) Unfortunately, it won't be anything cool, like a dragon or tramp stamp, just a couple of teeny-tiny green dots to help the radiation techs line me up in the machine each time. Boooorrrriiinnnnnggg!!!! Maybe I'll add to the collection sometime.

Every day is a Holy day

I don't think I truly understood the phrase "tears of joy" until this morning. While in the shower (of all places...) it really hit me that chemo is almost done. Like...REALLY hit me.

The whole summer came flooding back at once - the days hooked up to my drugs, visits with Dr. Johnson, countless needle sticks, seemingly endless stretches in bed, nausea, the horrible taste of food, piles of hair in my bed & the shower drain. All of that flashed in an instant.

What really permeated my memory was the kindness of strangers, the love of my family & friends, the words of encouragement, cards, flowers, help with everyday chores, the amazing ability of my kids to completely roll with the punches. These are the memories that will stick with me forever.

I know that I will never understand why cancer picked me. Not sure that I want to. But because of my diagnosis, I know these things: I am stronger than I ever thought I could be, my capacity for love and compassion has grown exponentially, and "Every day is a Holy day."

I put that last one in quotes because that simple phrase has become my mantra. I end each day with thanks to God for letting me have another day with my kids, another day to fight this cancer, another day to laugh, even another day to cry. Another day to say "I'm here, and I'm gonna LIVE!"

The Brave Whiner

I'm starting to come back out of the pit that was my 6th chemo treatment. This particular "cocktail" seems to really be good at kicking my butt. It's understandable, as a friend said today, "They ARE poisoning you." On the upside, I'm 75% done with chemo, only 2 more treatments to go! Woot!!

Not to sound pompous, but during this treatment I've thought a lot about bravery. A few weeks ago at the grocery store a friend stopped me and said I was "her hero" for the way I've fought cancer. I thanked her, but said "You'd do the same thing." And I think for most people, that's true. You fight, stay as strong as you can, but also start to feel very guilty when your strength wanes and vulnerability sets in. I know the guilt weighs on me terribly sometimes. When I'm at my lowest strength-wise is when I hit my lowest on an emotional level.

I don't think there's anything particularly brave about the way I've handled this. In fact, I think I'm kind of a whiner.

Boo hoo...I feel sore today. But I'm not in a coma.

Sniff...I couldn't keep food down. But I'm still here.

There are people all over the world going through much worse than I am. I hate to even think about it like that, like bargaining with God. "That sucks for them. Please don't give me that!" But that's what it is. I accept what I'm going through. I don't ask why. I thank God every night for the gift of another day, even if it's not a particularly good day. Today I was up and around, pretty good day.

Blogging...it's harder than it looks

Hello! Remember me? I didn't think so. I'm the girl who said she was going to update her blog often. Turns out, having a blog is harder than you think.

My goal was to update everyone on the progress of my fight against breast cancer (I'm winning, BTW!). With that goal in mind, whenever I thought to post something, I felt like I was whining about cancer, and that is NOT what I wanted to do. So I've decided to make this a blog about my life in general, with a dash of cancer stuff.

On the cancer front, counts are good & chemo sucks, but hasn't been as bad as I was anticipating. My doctor, who is awesome, changed my cocktail and I started a new treatment on June 29th. I felt good for 2 days then it kicked my ass. Seriously - felt like I had been hit by a truck and had to call in reinforcements - Mom & Dad. They were lifesavers! They watched my kids for 2 days, washed my dishes & did my laundry. I couldn't walk 20 ft. without getting winded and breaking out into a sweat. I was bad about taking my anti-nausea pills though, because I was good for 2 days - so......BAD MARJIE! I won't make that mistake again! 

So, on to life stuff...I spent a great weekend playing golf with friends in Conway Springs. Bob and I played in the 2nd Annual Dilly's Place benefit tournament. It is a FUN event, hosted by some AWESOME people! The point of this is not to brag about my golf game...I sunk an 18 ft. putt on #8, then out-drove all the guys on #3..., but to tell you about Dilly's Place.

Dilly's Place is an organization that has one goal in mind...building a playground in Conway Springs that is accessible for kids of ALL-ABILITIES! The idea for this playground grew from a need for the disabled community to have a playground - because EVERY kid deserves to be a kid. The two ladies that spearhead this organization have a child/grandchild who is autistic and recognized this need first-hand. The need is great and the need for funds is even greater. Anyone who has put in a backyard playground knows they don't come cheap. Imagine trying to build and pay for a playground for an entire community.

If you are interested in helping to make this dream a reality, I encourage you to go to the Dilly's Place facebook page, find their address on the information section and send them a donation! If you are in the Conway Springs/Wichita area, give them a shout and ask how you can help.

To me, the best thing about this playground is that it will be designed to be non-exclusive, children of all abilities, big & small will have an area to play.

And that's all any of us want, an area to play. Right?

BLESSED!

So, I haven't written in a while. Not surprising though. I don't know about the rest of you, but I tend to write or over-think when there are times of stress or reflection. I guess, its been a good week! Nothing pressing to write about. Except that I started loosing my hair. I'll post pics when I'm good & bald. It just looks patchy & gross now. ;)
I had my 2nd chemo treatment on Wednesday the 18th. Doc Johnson said my blood-work was "awesome" and that I'm taking to the treatment very well! I even asked him if I was getting enough...his response, "You want more?"  LOL, not exactly, I just want to make sure we're doing our damnedest to kick this cancer's ass! I don't plan on going though this again. He assured me that I'm not being under-medicated at all, in fact he's hitting with everything he has. Good.
Couldn't help but ask though, because I've been blessed with a lot of good days for a woman on chemo! I'm sure you've all heard the same stories, chemo patients constantly sick, nauseous, in pain. I was prepared to be one of those women, prepared to watch the summer go on by. I know that each treatment affects each patient differently, but I am truly amazed by how good I feel. Now that I'm through the 2nd dose, I have a pattern and know what to expect for the last 2 doses of these drugs. It could all change in July when I start a different "cocktail."
Its a good thing I'm feeling good, there are things to be done! There are kids to raise! There's work to do! There's golf to play! There are concerts to go to! (Seriously, George Clinton & Steve Martin both in Salina this summer! P-funk meets King Tut! Not the same day though, that would put the universe into chaos! Yes, yes, yes...I am a super eccentric music geek.)
So, for this week, the word is BLESSED! I am blessed with a good attitude. I am blessed with awesome family & friends! I am blessed with an excellent medical team. I am blessed to be here, everyday.

Where I'm supposed to be...

Not really sure how to start this thought, but I guess my feeling of late is "I'm where I'm supposed to be." How, you ask, can someone who has cancer be comfortable with where they are in life. It's horribly depressing to think about really. You start to feel the "why me's" coming on. Well...why not me?

For those that know me, I've had rough 2-3 years. I went through a divorce, changed jobs twice, moved 3 times and at one point was working 5 different part-time jobs to make ends meet, all while raising 2 boys. Last summer about this time my Mom starting to get very sick, eventually ending up in the hospital for weeks, then rehab, then staying at home while I worked full-time and left our shop in the care of high schoolers (who did a fabulous job!). It just seemed like none of us could catch a break. So we turn the calendar pages to February, everyone is feeling pretty good, although Mom is still on IV therapy for her infection. Cool.

Then...CANCER!  

WTF???? Where did that come from?

So, now that I've had some time to reflect on the whole thing, I firmly believe that things happen for a reason and that I'm where I'm supposed to be:

If I hadn't of gotten divorced, I probably would not of found the cancer until it was much more developed and possibly metastasized. What possible logic could I have for this? I found the tumor after I had my tubes tied, which I wouldn't have had done if I were still married.
If I hadn't of changed jobs twice I wouldn't have the outstanding boss & insurance that I have now. Mike Peterson, my boss, is wonderful, truly wonderful. He's allowed me to take care of my illness without having to stress about losing my job. That is trust & compassion I absolutely will not take for granted. If I'm feeling good, or even so-so...I'll be there for him.
If I hadn't of moved 3 times, I wouldn't be living in the great complex that I live in. Not only is it a nice place with wonderful neighbors & friends, it is income based. When the amount of hours I was able to work went down, the staff was willing to work with me.
Now, the last thing is much more difficult to accept, and I still struggle to understand the meaning or why's of my Mom's illnesses. Between lupus, kidney transplants, lung infections & blood clots, our family has had a long road, since about 1986. The only thing I can grasp is that by having witnessed the grace, humility & strength with which my mother has handled everything, I have a shining example of how to handle myself in my current predicament. And not only for myself, tons of people have been witness to my Mom's strength and hopefully it has inspired them as it has me.

So, are you where you're supposed to be?