2019 is half over and...

I'm still here!

I've learned a lot.
I've struggled a lot.
I've written nothing, but have many stories to tell.

Here's to hoping that the second half is a little stronger.
~Nicole

p.s. I know these little posts are somewhat pointless. In my defense, I think that there are people who stumble on this little blog of mine from time to time when their story starts to resemble mine. I hope that when they find it, they find comfort in the fact that my story is still being written.

Still here? Me too!!!

Tomorrow is another day. Hopefully filled with family, friends, crafts, hockey, baseball, running, biking, quiet, noise, or any other thing that sounds like love and adventure. But most likely tomorrow will be filled with regular old stuff where we have to be 100% present if we want to experience true JOY. Or at least hope that our loved ones are 100% engaged so they don't think we are weird for staring at them for no reason other than to see them being happy---that "I swear I am not a creeper, I just want to know what you look like when you are happy" moment when they always tell you to stop looking them.... please tell me I am not the only one.... maybe I'm just the only one who gets caught doing it.

Today, I officially decided to turn this crazy life of mine into a book. Thank you for all of the encouragement, past, present, and future. One page a day and it will get done. The laundry, homemade meals, and the dishes might not, but that is nothing new around here. I padded the page count by copying and pasting all of my previous blog posts so I could start to choose which to keep and which just needs to stay in cyberspace. I toyed with the idea of taking everything down, but I know that somewhere out there is a newly diagnosed cancer patient looking for a survivor story to hold onto like did. Fight on my brave sister! I am still here for you.

A week ago, I had surgery to replace my implants and make my body more comfortable to exist within. There is something to be said for being able to put your arms to your sides without having your boobs get in the way.

Almost a month ago, I turned 40.

Roughly six months ago I lost a dear friend to cancer. I didn't get to know her for long, but our hearts connected. I adore that her daughters find me every time we are at a hockey rink and give me the biggest hugs. May she send butterfly wishes and surprise hugs to brighten random days forever.

Nine months ago, my friend, Rebecca, introduced me to CycleBar Northville and a new addiction was born. It has been over a week since I've ridden and I am going through withdrawal and I've learned how to sleep past 7am. Post-surgery bonus--if my shoulders get strong enough, and aren't the actual problem, I might be able to do double bars since my chest won't be in my way anymore!!! (Oh dear, I hope the CycleStars don't actually read this....)

A year ago, it was so dark inside my head that I felt like I was drowning. I thank God that I am weak and those around me are strong. I wish I had remembered that writing is my outlet (my memoir may have been done instead of starting). These are stories I'm going to save for my book... there has to be something new in there.

Until my next post! 💗

P.S. It is way easier to write a blog post than a book story. Here I can assume you know me, my life, and my family.... Today was definitely the start of something tough.

It's been how long since I've written....

I'm not even looking....

What have I been doing since obviously writing blog posts isn't one of them? I am very proud to say I have been enjoying life.

This summer I have enjoyed a camping trip to the UP (Upper Peninsula for you non-Michigan readers) with my family. We got to pet baby bears, see a waterfall, visit a shipwreck museum, and even got to try archery. I shared my crazy addiction to cool rocks and the kids walked on the shore of Lake Superior filling their pockets with their own.

Oh, I almost forgot--we got rained out of a camping trip on Lake Huron. We got to enjoy some very chilly weather and we got to appreciate the fact that both Sean and I are not willing to sleep under a leaky roof. (I knew there was a reason we fit together so well.)

We had an extended weekend with our Tribe. We are so lucky to have friends to enjoy life's ups and downs.

The highlight of this summer was finally, finally, finally meeting my first biological niece and enjoying her month long visit to the US. It is one thing to have my brother living in Japan and only visiting every other year, but I'm not sure I am going to be able to handle that arrangement for his wife and daughter, too.... (Sorry, bro, you've been ousted as top dog.) If any one has a job for a 2D animator who speaks conversational Japanese, has crazy mad computer skills, and is willing to do just about anything, just give me a call I've got the perfect guy for you.

Since I'm paying no mind to the timeline, I can't forget to include Burke week--a time to enjoy my east coast family. No fancy trip this year, but Toledo was full of family fun. There was a day on Lake Erie and several "less than epic" Uncle Paul nights. I love that my kids know my aunts and uncles and that they look forward to this part of our summer every year.

(Timeline-shmi-line)    We even got to enjoy two trips to Columbus to visit my dad's new house! Papa Joe is cool and all, but two trips to the American Girl Doll and Lego stores in less than a month... oh dear Lord were the guppies happy. Then there was more family--my Aunt Teri and my cousin Katie came in from Washington and Indiana and we got to have a mini-Zupsic reunion.

Now to enjoy a little down time at home appreciating the mountain of laundry that we have amassed and trying to establish some sort of organization in this house!!!

I would be remiss if I didn't remember to include that this is the first summer in 3 years that I have been given an all clear from cancer. I'm totally enjoying being able to write that.

A few good days to write about

As with most of my writing, I started, got distracted, and now have too much to share it all...

On October 17th, I wrote:
Today has been a VERY good day! This sitting still and listening to my body thing is seriously not my style. But today I was granted some reprieve from the ouch-ness and thought I would brag about a good day. 

I wasn't expecting today to be a good day at all, last night was rough and I didn't sleep much at all--just didn't get the pain meds timed right. When I awoke, I did the little shimmy wiggle thing I have to do now to sit up in bed, and while the pressure on my chest was tremendous it was manageable. I let the sleep fog dissipate for a bit with a few games of Candy Crush. Then I was able to take a warm shower, notice it was warm and not hot..... (reason #1 for good and not great day) And since the warmth relaxed my chest muscles I did a little tidying in my room. 

Then I made way downstairs to do some sitting and resting.

When my father-in-law, AKA babysitter extraordinaire, arrived to help me with lunch I asked if he would also take me to the Secretary of State to get my enhanced driver's license (since the mobile app said there was only a 31 minute wait).  He even let me convince him to make a detour to the grocery store. Apple pie makes people do strange things this time of year.... While we were unsuccessful in our hunt for an apple pie--to quench my craving for MacQueen's Dutch Apple pie--I did manage to sneak and put things in the cart all by myself. I felt like a little kid getting away with putting stuff in the cart. (too bad it was greek yogurt, bananas, Thomas's bagels, and some fruit)


On October 21st, I should have written (but I was too excited):
I got to drive today!!!!!!! Not quite strong enough for any long distances, but I can do some basic errand stuff!!!! There are not enough exclamation points to show how exciting this is for me.


Today is October 27th:
At my expansion appointment the doctor and I discussed several things, first was size (insert your favorite "it matters" joke here). Did you know that it is important to over expand to give the doctor more room to make the Franken-boobs pretty? Yeah, me either. AND a dear friend offered up the advice to "go big or go home" which led to my new found knowledge that it is a pretty easy surgery to change out implants if you are unsatisfied with the bigger, bolder version. Oh the conversations you never thought you'd be having....

Then he took out the wire-like stitches. Which actually hurt. Way more than the little tug he described. Attention doctors, just because you use the word little and you aren't exerting a huge effort doesn't mean that it feels that way on the receiving end. Oh, and a word to the wise, if there are a lot of steri-strips on your incision it isn't because the doctor let your kids play with the band-aids. That is one HECK of a battle scar:

But the highlight was talking seriously about going back to work. I'm not ready yet, but maybe in two weeks. I need to work on getting physically stronger by doing the "duh stuff" that everyone needs to do to be a little healthier (drink water, eat more fruits and veggies, exercise--for me that is walking for now--blah, blah, blah).

My biggest take away from this part of the conversation was the realization that outside of our own occupation we as adults have no idea what it really takes to do a job that is not our own. The interactions that just make the entire day more wonderful and those that make you shake your head or roll your eyes are all different, but we all have them. For me, knowing when I will be well enough to get back to my classroom, my passion, will be directly tied to knowing that I am ready to be fully present for both the wonderful and the difficult parts of the job.

(My apologies to English teachers and well-trained writers/reader everywhere for the horrid grammar in this post and for the last paragraph that is so disconnected and conclusion-less.)

Another reason why I love my husband

My days are currently filled with high doses of pain meds, naps, and tv watching which means that I don't have much to update you with. The quick and easy: pathology report from the mastectomy says that while the cancer was invasive on the left side it does NOT require chemotherapy. The same report also says that there was a previously undetected new cancer on the right side. (I will have to post about that again once I have met with my oncologist and surgeon and understand what it means exactly.) For now, we can all give a giant whoo hoo for no chemo. If it didn't hurt so much, I'd suggest a happy dance, but...... that ain't gonna happen.

It has been a while since I shared one of the good chuckles Sean and I have had along this journey. (Trust me, we laugh A LOT---way more than we cry.) So today you get a glimpse into our little world of coping with other doctor's office.

Yesterday ,I went to a check-up with the plastic surgeon. (Oh, an update I forgot about--Dr. Lytle was able to remove 2 of my drains, only 4 more to go!) And since that office has become Sean's favorite place to make inappropriate jokes (the first visit involved him being the man behind the curtain with the Quagmire and that creepy old guy from Family Guy sound board). Gratefully the nurses have a fabulous senses of humor and we laugh hysterically at just about everything that happens there.

To truly understand this anecdote indulge me: Put your left hand over your chest (like your are going to use the wrong hand to say the Pledge of Allegiance) and wiggles your fingers. I know nothing happened when you did it, but when I did it went squish squish like a 1980s waterbed. Sounded and felt as creepy as you are imagining, but didn't hurt (that could be the two HUGE pills I took before we left the house, but who's counting).

Nicole's perspective: The doc turns away and gives directions to the nurse in what sounds like English but went by me so fast I didn't catch it all. My mind went immediately to Willy Wonka and like he was whistling to the Oompa Loompas and giving orders for sending me to the juicing machine. I kept waiting to hear him say, "but look quick...." and dancing to begin (see previous paragraph and two HUGE pills comment).

Sean's perspective (keep in mind he is not laying down on the exam table nor has he had the two HUGE pills): Doc turns away and goes over to the counter. He pulls out a syringe and needle. No, not the ordinary one that you have probably all seen at a regular doctor's appointment. BUT instead the one straight out of some freak-tastic Halloween movie. The barrel of the syringe is at least an inch and a half in diameter and the needle is at least 3 inches long. Sean and the doc start exchanging some banter about rusty needles and my looopy world hears "WAAAAhahahahahaha!" followed by a clap of thunder and flickering lights (remember those two HUGE pills--that didn't really happen but we were all laughing like it was). The nurse holds my hand and says, "you won't feel anything." and it was about then that I actually saw the harpoon he was sticking in my non-existent boob. And he really did fill that bad boy with the ick that went squish..... and now I don't go squish anymore.

Hope this made you at least giggle a little. If not, I'll give you one last try, I took my husband with me to the plastic surgeon's office when I was loopy....... Thank GOD it wasn't size picking day, that could have been a disaster.

I get by with a little help from my friends...

Tonight the kids and I went to Mass, and it was the first time in a long time that I was listening with all of my heart. When we were singing "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to people of goodwill..." I started to cry, you know those tears that you can't control and yet you fight anyway. The ones everyone pretends they don't see, but their eyes say they do. In this moment Elizabeth asked me why I was crying, and when I told her I would explain after Mass she reached up and wiped away my tears. Jake wrapped his arms around me, and somehow I didn't fall apart and crumple into a ball on the floor in the middle of the church.

Since we were sitting in the front row (yes, I let the kids pick our seats when it is just us 3 and they like to be able to see everything) I'm certain that Fr. Pat wasn't the only one who had front row seats to our moment. But for the first time along this journey I didn't care who was watching or what they thought. I wonder if they could tell that I didn't know how to explain to her that I am angry, a little lost, and yet I have faith in God. That at moments like this I can find all of my strength in their two small hearts and know that it will all be OK someday.

I feel this need to ask, "why again?" Like there is some answer or some lesson that I have to learn the hard way.  I've had conversations with many different friends and family about this idea that there is some higher purpose to my having to have breast cancer 3 times. I must have missed some important lesson the first two times, although that seems to reek of the movie Groundhog's Day.

A convincing argument in my head, and in my heart, is that I have to learn to ask for and accept help more often. I think it is the asking part in particular that is my challenge. So many people have offered to help, and I am going to let them, I just have to figure out what to ask for help doing. Which, as moms everywhere can understand, is a lot harder than just doing it all yourself.

SO to my many people of goodwill, I will accept your offers and find a place for as much help as I can.



Well this post was waaaaaaaaay more emotional than I intended..... I was really just planning to let you know that after some back and forth between the surgeon and the plastic surgeon we have set a date. On September 27th (yes that is a Saturday) I will have a double mastectomy with reconstruction. It is expected to be about a 12 hour surgery with a night or two hospital stay. I haven't done any online research about what to expect, but doctors everywhere seem to like to say that this is a very painful procedure. Meh, bring it on!!! This tough cookie will come out even stronger in the end.

Crap..... it's back...

There are so many ways to start this post, but I think that direct is best. 

Yep, you read correctly, third time's a charm for me on this breast cancer roller coaster. 

On the 13th, I went for my preventative MRI of the breasts. That evening I got a call from my surgeon that there were two suspicious areas showing up in the left breast. She arranged for a mammogram with ultrasound on the 15th. They were not able to see the same areas in the mammogram nor with the ultrasound. Due to my history (and certainly the knowledge of the doctors) they arranged for, although I think demanded is a better word, an MRI guided biopsy on Monday (I could write an entire post about how much I dislike this procedure). Tuesday, my surgeon called with the preliminary results--both areas are cancerous. 

I apologize for all those reading who are knowledgable on BC and have questions that I should know the answer to but simply don't right now. This diagnosis took me completely off guard. I was expecting an all clear. I was ready to put my teacher wardrobe to work, my PTA mom positive attitude in high gear, and my hockey mom schedule in motion. 

Today, I had strength. I went to my classroom. I said the right things to the right people, and meant it. I sincerely promised to take care of myself and to ask for anything that I might need. 

Tonight, I am weak. I am hiding in my house, grateful to be allowed to just be mad and sad alone. 

Tomorrow, I will stand tall. We will formulate a plan and with the help of so many people I love and cherish I will take on this challenge with determination and whatever else it takes to rid myself of this round of evil.

It's been a loooooong time since I've written

I'm not entirely sure why it is that I haven't written. I pen fantastic and interesting paragraphs in my head all the time. There just doesn't seem to be time to live in the both the electronic world and the real world. Right now it seems that the real world has all of my attention, and that it AWESOME.

So, why actually write now?

First, I have a need to share that everything with my health is going great right now. I have been allowed to extend my oncology appointments to every 3 months! My last mammogram came back all clear. The results to the more extensive genetics test came back and I do not have any of the currently known genetic markers. (Still not 100% sure how I feel about that last one, but since the medical community says that's a good thing I will leave it in the great news paragraph.)

Second, my breast cancer journey has allowed me to reach out and get to know other women on similar journeys. I feel honored that they have allowed me to be a part of one of the most challenging times in their lives. There are two women whose stories are deeply in my heart today and if you are a prayerful person, I ask that you think of them over the next few weeks. They are in two completely different parts of their journey and both are fierce fighters.

Finally, this is mother's day weekend and I am looking forward to some rest and relaxation.

Ha ha! Seriously, that was some serious wishful thinking... 2 baseball practices, 2 hockey games, and a breast cancer fundraiser on Saturday and 2 more hockey games on Sunday, some PTA work, and maybe a little yardwork--nope, no rest for the wicked around here.

As much as I would love for this to be truly a complaint, and for you to have this urge to offer up niceties, it isn't and you shouldn't. I have longed for these days to be a part of my life, and I don't wish them gone. Yes, I said it, as much as I want to be done going to hockey practices and games and balancing schedules, I have a mom life and I love it. I get to talk to moms (and dads) who share in the many facets that make up the Guppy Kids. The friendships and acquaintances that I have built these last few years are some that I hope will grow and last for years to come. AND I get excited just thinking about the new faces and people that I will get to know through this insane schedule that we like to keep.

To all of the hockey moms and not-so-crazy-after-all PTA moms out there, I love ya!

To my mom, I love you!

And the best for last:
To the man who made me a mom, I love you!!!!

The TPA is looking for a few good birds (that's the Turkey Protection Agency)

Cancer update= On Friday, I had radiation treatment #15 of 33. Still have to drag myself into the hospital, but a good friend gave me a song to help me through, One Foot First by Rosetta Pebble (find them online). I highly recommend listening carefully, the lyrics are very inspiring and they make me smile.

That's small potatoes right now though. I am in the midst of a new crisis. I knew I would struggle with this particular parenting issue. I just thought I had a few more years before I had to learn this lesson. The following is the assignment that was sent home for Miss Herself to work on this weekend:

Save the Turkey!

Dear Families,

We are asking all of our students to take the attached undressed turkey and give him a disguise so he is saved from being the main course at Thanksgiving dinner. You may take on a theme or just have fun dressing the turkey any way that you wish. In the past, some have been dressed like football players, dancers, etc... Cut out the turkey and glue him on the colored construction paper. Then use items around your house or yard to disguise him. Seeds, beans, leaves, fabric, or buttons are some possibilities. This can be a family event with moms and dads helping their (second) grader!

This is also a creative writing assignment. Students must then write 4 sentences about their turkey explaining the story behind his/her disguise. Use the attached checklist as a guide. Remember - have some fun and be creative with this!

I can't just do this for her???.... even if it is fun and the directions say I can help.
Why can't I do the Turkey assignment for my 2nd grader all by myself?
Does the teacher not know that I am a creative control freak?
Does she understand how hard it is for me not to take my daughter's story and run with it?
Or even worse, we are supposed to create a disguise... together...
OMG, I think the teacher is trying to kill me.

Yes, I know the directions say it can be a family event, but we all know that means that parents are allowed to guide but are supposed to take a support role, taking orders from the little dictator about what is and isn't allowed in the disguise. Letting them write and learn about being creative in the writing process. Offering ideas and patiently allowing them to be shot down by an attitude that rivals any teenage girl's best 'tude. There should have been a disclaimer that this was really an activity in perseverance and patience for all parents with a shred of creative desire.

So I made Miss Herself a deal, I would write a blog post about her assignment and post her turkey and story for all to read. I can take credit for the helmet and skates (I am supposed to finish them because she had to go to bed). Other than those two, it is all her work--ideas and writing 100% her own. I am going to include her "sloppy copy" because it is almost as entertaining as the real deal.

(and sitting here with her while we both wrote and created really was a lot of fun! I think we might have to do this more often.

Want to make Miss Herself's week? Create your own turkey with a disguise and story then send it to us! We will share what we collect with her class and here!!!
Twitter: @guppy_mom or via email: nicole c sturgeon at gmail dot com

This is the turkey that needs to be saved!

Looking forward to some Thanksgiving fun!

Back to the Grind

This was our first full week back in school and it was a doozy. I will just touch the highlights, and then get back to my glass of wine and let the days get brighter.

First, it was supposed to be a great week. On Tuesday I had a follow up appointment with my surgeon and she informed me that my surgery was awesome. Usually, they hope to get 2mm of clear margins (healthy tissue on the outside of the cancerous tissue). For this round, they were able to get 5-10mm around my tumor. That's more than 100% better than what they hope to get!!! Can't complain about being better than expected!!!!!!

Still have to do this round of radiation. Have to pick up the 500 pound phone and make the appointments...

Second, I really want to start writing about being a mom and not a mom with cancer/battling cancer/surviving cancer. BUT this week has shown me that I have a ways to go before that gets to happen fully. BUT I have to get my cancer-mom on for a moment--I was reminded by my friend, Daniele (check out her blog lifewithpenispeople.wordpress.com) that while I am blessed to have this pink sisterhood and a plethora of options for treatment, I am lucky. I can't imagine having to take my child to these appointments. I can't imagine having to sit by and watch my child fight from the inside out. I can't imagine trying to teach them to be strong, have faith, trust in people with more knowledge than I have, believe that things will work out, that God doesn't give you more than you can handle, or worse holding their tiny hand and kissing them goodbye for the last time.... So for Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month, I am going to hug my own kids a little tighter and dust off my church clothes and go to God's house to say thank you for the strength, courage, and guidance He has given. AND I'm going to put my money where my mouth is by donating to the Jacob Michael Davis Foundation, http://www.jacobmichaeldavis.org/help.htm, because the Davis Family inspires me.

Third, I am not going to let ignorance and insult influence my decisions as a teacher. Today I sat in a meeting where a parent claimed that because I appeared sick (had no hair) in the videos I recorded and have students watch that her daughter couldn't learn from me. It was "too close to home" because they had people who have lost their battle with the big C or are fighting a good fight... (notice that I didn't use quotations, but I think I am pretty close to what she said) My first reaction was that of a concerned teacher, OMG what can I do to fix that and make it better. I will re-record my videos so that I look better, I will find other resources for her to use/watch. But as I have gained time and emotional distance from the experience, I am angry. How dare she even try to use that as a ticket to get what she wants. To even begin to explain how hard of a leap that was for me to make at that point in my journey is impossible. However, the research says it is better for students to not only hear but see their teacher in this style of presentation so that is what I did and will continue to do. As a friend told me today, that was not an example of good parenting skills. I have learned from from this experience.

So now that I have written, and finished my glass of wine. I am going to enjoy watching the PINK OUT at the Tigers game and wonder when they are going to make it a GOLD OUT for all the kids who are battling a pediatric cancer. And hug my kids a few more times.

The Glad Game Sucks

If you have never met my mother, you are missing out on one of the most awesome individuals you can imagine. If you have met her, then you have been infuriated by her endless creativity and positiveness at one point or another. I can only imagine how many of you are laughing hysterically because you know how many times you have wanted to say, "________ (she wears a lot of hats, so put your title for her here) get a grip," only to decide that she was the one who had one and you were in need of perspective or growth. Growing up with this woman, who seems to glide miraculously through things that tear other people to shreds, has made me the person I am today. 

BUT (there is always a BUT) Mom, you forgot to remind me that Pollyanna had to endure a whole lot of crap before she learned that the Glad Game was worth it. Any game that starts with getting crutches instead of a doll, includes losing your dad, being moved into a hostile environment, and requires you to fall out of a tree (or get hit by a car, depending on if you are reading or watching), break your legs, and learn to walk again in order for everything to work out...why the hell is this your favorite?!?!?! :)

Oh, it is because when those test results come back and the doctor says it's cancer again. You can truly see the positive in his words. It isn't a recurrence, it is a new cancer (this one I am still working for the silver lining so don't ask me). It is Stage 0, very early=very good. It is "in situ", inside the ducts, not in the regular breast tissue=good. I think that non-invasive is tied to in situ, but I like non-invasive enough that it gets its own sentence. All of those mean that I will have another lumpectomy and more radiation, but no systemic treatment=no chemo.

It took a few days to get my mind to accept this new turn and to understand that my path just wasn't complete yet. But at least I didn't need to whole town to come calling to make me play the Glad Game. 

Thanks Mom!!! (Freaking Pollyanna wins again.....)

Has it really been a year...

I feel like I should apologize for my lack of writing, but that would be like apologizing for celebrating for the last 12 months... For those who have been reading that long, can you hardly believe that a year has gone by since I was declared a "pathological responder"??? (still my favorite way to say NO MORE CANCER IN MY BODY)

And yet as I type that sentence, I have to admit that this milestone isn't without its own touché moment. As in, haha caught ya thinking life was headed back to normal. Or, haha you thought you could start planning in to the future. Or, HAHAHA you thought this adventure was coming to an end.... Think again lady.

My team of doctors have been watching the cyst in my liver and the cysts on my ovaries pretty carefully the last few months. (Since it is late, I have to tell you that my brain wants to include a "don't drink the CT scan Kool-Aid" joke, but I am pretty sure that it is waaaaaay funnier in my head than as part of this post.) To add to the lurking cysts, at my last oncology appointment my doctor felt a new lump, this time in my left breast. I have gone for an MRI and an ultrasound, and that was followed by an MRI guided biopsy to confirm that it is just a lumpy boob. (still awaiting results)

I don't know how to describe my mood right now. Nervous, yes. Terrified, hell yes. Yet calm, I have a team of doctors whom Sean and I both trust. (a team of doctors I was looking forward to not seeing as much of....) I also have this sense of confidence that things will work out, but I don't have a gut feeling about what the path will look like. I don't know whether to expect a long battle, or if this is just a flash in the pan of nothingness. I mean really how much of a tool will I look like when I come to say, "oh it was nothing." And am I destined to have these thoughts every time my boobs feel a little lumpy??? And how often are my boobs going to feel lumpy???? Holy crap, am I going to have to go through this every time I go for a follow up appointment??? And how am I supposed to tell what is normal every day wear and tear on my body and what is something I need to think of as a potential symptom? How do you answer "how are you feeling today?" when asked by a doctor?

But I am letting go of those worries today. Today is a day for celebration. Today they take out my chemo-port!!!!! This is the milestone that feels like true completion, an end to a path. So the next time you see me it will be with one more scar and one less bump. Can't wait!!!

Take that Breast Cancer and other motherly musings

A year ago this weekend I found the lump and started on my fantastically miserable awesome scary intense journey. I know it sounds crazy, but I really am starting to believe that there is a silverlining here...

I will start with a cancer update. I had my first follow-up mammogram (the big squish) and all is clear! I  have to finish up my herceptin infusions and then will get to have my port removed. I'm thinking that will be the next medical mile marker I am shooting for. All is good in the cancer world.

Back to the fun stuff--the silver lining. I am writing this post from my seat on AirTran flight 18 to Orlando!!! Have you ever watched the SuperBowl? When they win the big game they always get to say, "I'm going to Disney World!!" I think that I have just won the biggest game ever, and I'm tired of waiting for the right moment, enough money, the time off, what ever excuse it is that all parents make for not doing the fun things in life. So, yep, this superstar cancer fighter and the love of her life are taking their kids to Disney for a week.

AND just to be sure that cancer really understands that we are thumbing our noses at it and sticking up our middle fingers (on both hands) and shouting f*&^ you at the top of our lungs, I am really running the Princess Half Marathon. 13.1 miles of cancer ass kicking.

I know that there are a great number of runners who are a part of my support system, and their words of encouragement are in my heart. With a RockMyRun (www.RockMyRun.com) mix ready on my phone, a pink tutu (which may or may not get worn), and my cousin on the course, I will finish this race just so that cancer knows who is the winning player.

(Pilot just said to shut 'em down, so this post is going up before I have proofread..... hope it makes sense and promise to post pictures ASAP)

Good bye 2012, Hello 2013!

Well that is a year that I am quite glad to see end.... and yet, I can't help but look back on it and be grateful for all that I have learned.

I have experienced loss. I have faced cancer.

But bigger than that is all the awesomeness that comes with those two things.
I learned who I can count on when I can barely keep my wits about me.
I learned that life has to be lived every moment, even the craptastic ones.
I learned how to reach out for help (okay not as much as I probably should have reached for it, but I took a lot more help than I ever thought I would).
I learned to listen to my body and to my doctors.
I learned to love my husband on a whole new plane. (I love you.... I can't say it enough.)
I learned that there are good people everywhere in this world and sometimes they pop up in the most unlikely of places.
I learned that sometimes you just have to be a mom and nothing else.
I also learned that being a grown-up doesn't mean you don't need your parents.
I learned that sometimes a simple note/text/message/postcard/conversation is really enough to brighten a dark day or a scary moment.
I also learned that being a grown-up doesn't mean you don't need your parents.
I learned exactly how strong I am.
I learned to trust God.

I have met some amazing men and women this year. I have been inspired by them and challenged by them to be a better person.

To those who know me in the real world, I hope you know where you fit in my lessons because you are all there!!!!

So, here is to 2013. The best year yet.

Work (it all feels like work)

Wow. September is over.... Where the hell did it go?!?!?!? I have so much that I meant to get done and so much that I did that I didn't want to do and so much that I enjoyed doing.  Oh crap..... October is over too???????

Cancer update: I am officially done with radiation. I had to do 33 treatments, and they went better than I expected. (I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the horror stories of charring skin and whateverthehell a "wet peel" might mean.) Once again, the people at Oakwood Hospital made the entire experience freakishly enjoyable with their friendly ways and smiling faces. AND it probably helps that have great senses of humor.

So I wish that meant that I am free to enjoy my cancer-free status, but I am a long way to being done with my preventative care.

Ok, I have to give a warning that the next paragraph may be TooMuchInformation for some. Read the purple paragraph only if you have a sense of humor and can appreciate the silver lining in bad situations.

There are some perks to being in the midst of cancer treatments. While being bald is not my idea of fun, I have to admit that being hairless had its ups. I really hate shaving my legs, and having had the perk of not having to do it for 6 months..... well that I might actually say I will miss, a lot. AND being put into medical menopause (and potentially permanently) was supposed to mean no periods, not random insane ones. The kind that remind me that I have to be more understanding of teenage girls and the unpredictability of starting irregularly (which I have never before had a true appreciation for the fear of "everyone can tell").

I will still get my herceptin (estrogen blocker chemo) for the next year. Hopefully, this week I will get approved to go to the every 3 weeks dose instead of the every week dose I am currently on. Tomorrow, I start on my other hormone therapy called tamoxifen, it is an oral med. I will have to take it for 5 years. Slowly the hard stuff is being checked off the list, but with each check mark comes another bit of freedom from this trial.

Thank you for all of your support through this process.

Step 4: Radiation (and go back to work)

Burned boobies ahead....

I have been told A LOT that radiation is the easiest of of all the cancer crap that I have to face. But that sure didn't stop me from being completely freaked out by not just the process, but the aftermath too. Its like this dirty little secret of cancer survivors and doctors alike. Its easy, and then they use the phrases "dry peel" and "wet peel". Who thinks either of these things sound as though they will be easy?!?!?! And if you are going to pretend that "wet peel" doesn't sound scary, now imagine that whatever the hell that is is going to happen to your boob and armpit......

While I am not quite sure I agree with it, I am going to trust in my doctors, friends, and family that this is a necessary step in staying CANCER FREE. For the record, getting radiation is freaky from start to finish. The whole process starts with a simulation and getting marked (medical term for getting new dot tattoos). I have never wanted any sort of tattoo anywhere near the girls, but a dot smack dap in the middle of my chest was seriously the most painful poke I have had yet.

Every day (5 days a week) I have to go to the hospital. I take the elevator to the basement of the cancer building and scan my ID card to tell them I am there. The techs go get my body holder while I go to the locker room and put on my hospital gown. By the time you get this far in the game of being sick you don't even have to ask what to do anymore, waist up nudie butt. Then I have a seat in the gowned waiting room. (There are separate locker rooms for men and women, but once gowned you all sit uncomfortably in the same waiting area. Most of the time it is me in my gown feeling naked and like I am surrounded by old men who apparently don't have to put on gowns to be in the gowned waiting area.... there has to be some sort of injustice in this. It's gowned waiting, shouldn't everyone have to be in a stinky gown???? And today mine was clean and stinky--the kind of stink that makes you sniff your armpits to be sure it isn't you. I would have grabbed another, but that would have meant opening the door to the gowned waiting room full of old men with no shirt on at all.....)

Once they feel you have suffered just enough humiliation in gowned waiting the techs come get you and lead you back to the treatment room. I have a really hard time accepting the word treatment when I walk through the 12 foot wide 2 foot thick "door" with a handle that looks like a bank vault and a radioactive hazard sign on it. That is where my heart starts to race a little. Gratefully, all of the people in this department move really fast. Can't say that I blame them, if the door to my classroom looked like that I would spend as little time in there as I possibly could. They put you on a tiny table, put a rubberband around your feet, and uncover all of your dot tattoos and of course one boob. Using laser beams that shoot out from the wall they line you all up so that the poison treatment always goes to the same spot. They flick the lights off and leave the room (it is at this point that the telephone always seems to ring and I wonder who would call this room and what would be so important that the techs would stand still long enough to answer it). Then the machine turns on and start making its cross between a click and a beep and a hum sound while it slowly rotates around the table. After the longest 5 minutes ever they come back in and send me on my way. It is very surreal....

I have 7 out of the 33 treatments done, so by the end of October I will have another item checked off the cancer treatment list!!

And like most days, I'm tired out from radiation and being a mom so I will have to save the back to work stories for another post!

Step 3: Surgery

I have been so busy celebrating that I have forgotten to update my blog.... Actually, I've started to write this piece several different times, but have been dissatisfied with the plainness and just haven't had the heart to click submit on something not worth reading past the first paragraph. I mean after you read that my surgeon performed a lumpectomy and removed 9 more lymph-nodes and at my first follow up she declared that my pathology report came back as a complete responder, what else is there for you to read?

The fact that I was able to attend Burke Week 2012 in Lackawaxen, PA with my family before surgery becomes kind of second rate when compared to I'M CANCER FREE!!! Even if I try to one up it with the fact that my brother was able to come home from Japan for three weeks or the fact that we were able to take a photo of all of the first cousins for the first time in years. I'M CANCER FREE still wins.

I could attempt to tell you about surgery day. That Sean and I arrived late at the surgery center (and for this I am sure I am going to suffer the wrath of Karma in the near future). After being checked in at the counter, they handed Sean his visitor's badge and he politely asked for extras for the rest of our family who were on their way. We picked a seating area and sat in uncomfortable silence waiting for them to call me back. How my mom, dad, brother, and hubby were just this side of crazy (you decide which side of crazy this is) when they called me back, alone. Their my family's concern caused the nurses to push my wheelchair through the waiting room on the way to have the ________ stuck in my boob so that I could get/give one more kiss (I have no idea what the giant needle/probe that they stuck in me, wiggled around until it was in the tumor tissue, mammogrammed, then left dangling was actually called). The fact that I didn't pass out from pride or embarrassment or hunger doesn't even compare to the fact that I'M CANCER FREE.

An adventure in having a bridal shower to honor one of the sweetest young women I get to call family for 50+of her closest friends and family at my house, no in my house because the weather didn't cooperate, a week after surgery would seem humdrum and rather boring. Especially in comparison to I'M CANCER FREE. (Don't worry, I didn't do much of the preparations. I have been getting pretty good at following orders.)

Even if I tried to fake a lamentation about having to go back to work and the end of summer blues. It really wouldn't make the post any better since you have already read that I'M CANCER FREE.

Three weeks ago, I had a lumpectomy to remove what was left of my tumor. I am pleased to report that at my follow-up appointment the surgeon informed me that I am a complete pathological responder.   It's a good thing that she was as excited to report this as I was to get it because if she weren't smiling I think I might have cried. Complete and pathological are not easy words to hear together... So it should come as no surprise that my first question was, "What does that mean?" Thankfully, it means (in my words) that the tumor was shrunk enough that she was able to take out all the bad cells, there was enough space for her to take a little extra tissue (clear margins), and in the nine lymph nodes that were removed there was no cancer left.

So we know that the chemo drugs are effective and the surgery got it all out. At this point I AM CANCER FREE!!!!! I still have to go through radiation and finish the hormone drugs, but those are to maintain my cancer free status. It is going to be a busy fall, filled with appointments and work and getting involved in my new community.

In case you didn't quite get the picture, I want to tell you that I'M CANCER FREE!!!!!!!!

Let the celebrations continue!!!!!!!! Tutus, tiaras, and running shoes are ready to be put on!!!!!!!!!!

A little bit of lemonade....

Life tosses everyone some lemons. I am starting to understand why the adage suggests that you make lemonade; rarely do you just get tossed one lemon. If it was just one challenge at a time the adage might suggest a shot of tequila and a slice of lemon to suck on to drown the sorrows and move ahead, but instead it suggests lemonade. To me, lemonade is a drink that implies a pitcher to share with young and old alike. One that you would have waiting for unexpected company so that you could sit and chat on the front porch. I have been told quite a bit that this little blog is definitely a place for everyone who loves me to come and share a glass of lemonade with me on my journey. So grab a glass, add some ice, a shot of something fun if you want it, and don't forget the lemonade...... it is time for another celebration!!!!!!!!!!

I am done with CHEMOTHERAPY!!!!

It is hard to believe that I have only been doing this for 16 weeks. When I started, I knew that the time would go much faster than it sounded. I knew that it would be hard emotionally and physically. I knew that I would never be alone. It is this last one that has made the first leg of this journey soooo much easier. To those who have sent cards and emails (especially those that have gone unanswered), THANK YOU. I have all of them in my "boobie binder" and "BC folder" that I take with me to each appointment. When the going got tough I knew that you were there cheering me on. 

I have to share with you that this blog has a brutal editor. She doesn't let just anything get posted. There are 3 half completed posts that will never see your screen because they don't possess enough humor, have too much raw emotion (can't go freaking people out), or just aren't interesting enough to let her click the publish button. Take for example this paragraph:

It is just after midnight and I should be snuggled into bed and soundly asleep. Alas, it is the Tuesday before my LAST chemo treatment and I'm nearly as anxious as I was for the first one. This time the anxiety is more from the fear of the future than from the treatment. I know how chemo feels and that the side effects get progressively worse with each treatment. Which means I have some serious night sweats and joint pain coming my way in the next week, but I also know that this will be the LAST treatment. (Can you read my personal pep talk between those lines? The one that says that I will never have to do this again, ever? Because sometimes that worry is the hardest part to overcome...)

Blah, blah, whining again..... not going out to readers. I can't very well do that again. (even if the night sweats and joint aches are a super suckfest that I don't wish for anyone, ever)

There is one where I tried to express my gratitude and excitement for Pig Roast 2012: Pink Roast. 

So I have slowed down for 16 weeks. I have slept more than I ever thought my body was capable of sleeping. I have sat on the couch for entire days. I didn't teach an entire quarter of the school year. I can't run, bike, or swim as far/fast/often as I want. AND the cherry on the top of this suck sundae, I won't get to enjoy Pig Roast 2012 quite the way I would like.

"Pig Roast?" you ask, "what's that?" I will do my best to explain, but if you end up more confused than you are right now you just about have it understood.

Pig Roast is the annual gathering of the Tribe to celebrate life and all that it has given us in the past year. This year is the 18^th time the Tribe has gathered and those who have stepped up to organize the weeklong event made it intentionally close to me so that I could be there for whatever my treatment/body will allow. Pig Roast is usually a weeklong “vacation” with all the swimming, game playing, and camaraderie you can imagine. The kind of weeklong fun and debauchery that has most tribe members saying that they need a vacation from their vacation. I look forward to this week every year. (with chemo and its hangover looming in the middle of the weeklong festivities I am less enthused to go and watch instead of play, but I love my tribe and treasure every moment we get together)

I know that means that I am now supposed to tell you about The Tribe, but after three valiant attempts to describe this group of people I am struggling. Remember when you were little and your parents would say you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family? They were only half right.   Our parents forgot to tell us that sometimes there are friends that touch our hearts and poison our livers enough that we end up joined together in a beautiful extended family. It is those people, the ones that end up more than friends that became The Tribe. In most circles of friends, you are usually asked about who you know or what your connection is when someone new is introduced. In the tribe the question is less of who do you know and more of, “where was your first roast?” As the years go by it is fun to reminisce about all the different places we have gone and the adventures we have had.

In typical Tribe fashion, I measure my membership by my first Pig Roast. For this city-loving, camping-is-done-at-a-campground girl my first roast was at Muck-Leech Lake (I have no idea if that is the real name of the lake or not, but it was mucky and full of leeches and I never went in it). Sean and I arrived after a long drive, my first goal was to find the bathroom. You can imagine my horror when I was pointed in the direction of the outhouse. You can appreciate the people in my tribe when I say that by the time I finished using the outhouse and walked back to the rustic campsite that the tent was set up and a cold beer was waiting for me. (and for the record I only had to pee… and it was an outhouse, in case you forgot… that had been used for the better part of a week… they were that fast)

I see why this one was rejected by the editor there was not enough gratitude or enough excitement. Blah, blah, you love them, blah, blah, whine about being too sick to play along… Plus, this doesn’t even begin to do Pig Roast or The Tribe justice.

I guess that just leaves this post with one question to answer, “Now that chemo is done, what comes next in the cancer journey?” I promised in the beginning to only take small steps at a time, but being more experienced/informed allows you to see a broader picture.

Small step—surgery on August 2^nd. Since the tumor has shrunk and is considered to be responding to the treatments the plan is that surgery will just be a lumpectomy (as opposed to a mastectomy). This means that they will take out the cells where the cancer was along with a small bit of healthy tissue (known as clear margins). Also, 3 out of the 4 lymph nodes that were removed when my port was placed were cancerous, I will also have some of the lymph nodes in that area removed.

Larger picture—I have to keep the evil port a little longer (it still isn’t normal to me). I will continue to have the hormone drug Herceptin infused every week until the beginning of September, then it will change to every 3 weeks until next summer. In addition, I will start radiation after surgery. That schedule hasn’t been completely laid out for me, but I can count on 6-7 weeks of it.

So bottoms up on this celebration! There will be more celebrations to come (maybe we will get lucky enough to run out of lemons for a while)!!! Thank you again for stopping by and having a glass with me, I always love good company.

75% done....

From chemo Thursday:
I am sitting in chemo appointment #6, and felt that I had to start this post now or else I might forget something (something I have been even more prone to do lately). As I signed in and wished the front office girls my standard "Happy Thursday" I was approached by the nicest woman. (I really wish I remember her exact words, she was so diplomatic and yet blunt about what she wanted to know.) She was interested in my opinion of the office and my journey, and she looked on the outside exactly how I feel on the inside. (stressed, worried, like she was going to crack at any moment I) I gave her a big hug, and I immediately reached for my Thirty-One card and wrote the blog address on the back. Like I was going to fit my story and emotions in the 3-4 minutes before she was called while she was supposed to be filling out paperwork... Good luck with me fitting any one story into 3-4 minutes.

To my (our) new friend--I hope you have made it here and read about my journey. I hope that you really do give me a call; I have some things I could ask you too!! I hope that you have found a doctor that you trust and have faith in. I hope that you find some inner peace once you know your next steps and believe that they are the right ones for you. I hope that while it sounds as though our journeys have different paths that we both end up kicking some serious cancer ass. :)

From Monday:
Ouch. Ick. Ugh. Those are the words I have for Taxol. I try not to complain here too much, and certainly don't want anyone to worry. I am 75% done and two more treatments I can do easy peasy at this point. (what? it isn't like I can ask them to take it back or say, "ya know, I'm done with this. I'm going to skip the last two." --because you know you have done that with an antibiotic or class or book) That being said, and because this is my little corner of cyberspace, I'm gonna whine for a few.

First, my joints hurt like no other. 800mg of Motrin and 5mg of melatonin puts enough of a dent in it that I think in the past three days I have managed 8 good hours of sleep total. Usually just as I fall asleep is when Sean's alarm goes off, and I spend 30+ minutes trying to peel my eyes open (knowing gratefully that it can take me as long as I need--Thank you Dad S!!!). Only to discover that this is another morning that my toes are going to start off numb. Crossing my fingers that my fingers stay achy and sore (instead of turning numb). I have a new med to start tonight that is supposed to help with some of this.

Second, to all of my family and friends who are passing another female only milestone, specifically menopause, OMG this crap sucks. I really hope that God has some sort of plan for explaining these atrocities when we get to Heaven. Not even kidding, why exactly do we have to bear the indignity of having a period for (well normal people) 30 years or so then this.... Who hasn't heard the old joke about never trust something that bleeds for 7 days??? Oh wait, I forgot the part about Auntie Flo arriving unexpectedly/unannounced/brutally at some random time in your life when you are most vulnerable and confused about the world. Then when she is leaving you have these lovely things that people refer to as hot flashes, or in my case right now, night sweats. I wake up 2-3 times a night feeling like I just spent an hour in a sauna. My dear friends who are, like I was, not even contemplating the concept of menopause, be kind to your moms, this stage sucks.

Final whine, I promise, I just want to feel better!!!!!!

From Friday: (no spoiler, don't worry I know most of you are going to see this movie)
If you are contemplating seeing the new movie Brave, do IT!!!!!!!! Great movie! Bring your mom, daughter, and tissues (wish I had waited to see it with my mom)! I love the old school Princesses with all of my heart for all of the fun and fancy that I have enjoyed because of them. BUT it is about time Disney made one like the strong and wonderful women I look up to and those I want my daughter to look up to.

Compliment to contest

I'm not sure if I have written about this yet, but I think I at least mentioned it at one point... But I am going to rehash the story anyway for my own self serving reasons. In case you read no further, please vote for me.

The story starts with all the emotions that go along with hair-loss due to chemo therapy. I was feeling like GI Jane with nothing to prove and an insatiable appetite in the morning. It was a Friday, so when the boys said they were going to breakfast and to get hair cuts and asked if I wanted to come along I  said, "OK." (laughing out loud now at the humor in the fact that I had just shaved all my hair off and was choosing to go into a barber shop)

For the record, Sean is waaaaaaaaay more picky about where he gets his hair cut than I am. His favorite place, Rex's Barber Shop, still charges $7 a haircut and I would be willing to bet that the interior decor has not changed since the 50s. The kind of place where they actually use a straight razor to clean up. I am 100% certain that they will never ask if he would like a glass of red or white, but if he was having a particularly bad day someone might have a bottle of Jack Plague to pass him.... I digress, Rex's is in Dearborn Heights, and since the boys were missing their regular Friday routine breakfast was at Leon's in Dearborn.

Breakfast was uncomfortable for me, it was the first time I went out in public with a scarf on my head. Dearborn has a large Muslim population and seeing a woman with her head covered isn't strange, but I am not Muslim and I have no idea how to wear a hijab (perhaps I was feeling a bit silly too, why doesn't this woman know how to wear her scarf properly? Like there is some right way for a cancer patient to wear a scarf--or be bald-- and not be obvious). I was beyond self-conscious and felt as though every person was staring at me. I knew that they weren't, but it sure did feel like it.

As we were leaving there was a woman who stopped me, she literally grabbed my arm and stopped me. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "You are beautiful. I would like to give you a makeover." It felt great to hear that from a complete stranger. I am a huge fan of giving strangers compliments, but I have never experienced receiving the right one at the exact right moment. Sometimes, God sends people to the exact right moments in your life and all you can do is thank Him.

It turns out that the woman is named Sharon Parker and she is a Mary Kay consultant. We exchanged numbers and when she called me I was still riding the compliment high and agreed to the makeover. Secretly, I was worried that I was going to lose my eyebrows at any moment. Being more tomboy than glitter-girl, I have no idea how to use makeup for everyday things and figured that THIS had to be the right person to show me. I confessed to Sharon my lack of proper glitter-girl training, and that I have no intention of ever wearing makeup as a daily routine. She was understanding and immediately started asking questions about how my treatments make my skin feel.

We decided to do a "night out" look so that I could get all dressed up to celebrate halfway (or whatever I decide to celebrate next). Elizabeth was home that day due to a teacher work day, so I let her play makeover with us. IT WAS SO FUN!!!!!! We tried lots of stuff, picked everything sparkly/shiny/pink/purple or with names like Fancy Nancy, and giggled a lot.

Shameless plug: If you do not have a Mary Kay lady, or just want to check out what they have nowadays her website is www.marykay.com/sharonparker. I ended up getting moisturizer (w/SPF so my head doesn't burn) and the pampered hands lotion in peach (thank God that smell wasn't ruined by chemo). My face is no longer flaky and my hands feel better. AND while I am mentioning direct sales, I am going to make a June Thirty-One order, if you want something let me know!

Before we started Sharon mentioned that there was a contest going on for before and after shots, so we took them. I debated about whether or not to submit my photos for a while. After looking at the website and the rewards, I felt that I had to do it. $2,500 shopping spree and $5,000 to the charity of my choice are two good reasons to play the cancer card. So I did it!!!! (I am the dork that read the fine print to see how these prizes are awarded--turns out I can split the charitable donation between 2 organizations!!!!).  Now I need you to spread the word! Below is the link to vote, you can vote 5 times a day from now until June 15th. Thank you in advance for your support here and belatedly for the countless "you're beautiful"s that you have given me. Trust that every one of them is appreciated.

Mary Kay Makeover. Get Beautiful. Give Back.