This past Tuesday I had my third chemo session. The day before treatment I got my bags all packed. As I approached the bags I felt sick to my stomach. I knew that it was psychosomatic, but the feeling was real. 

I am not sure what it was but this past treatment was not fun. I felt uncomfortable and was really bothered by the cold cap treatment. At the end of the treatment, all I wanted to do is go home and wash the ickiness off of me. Unfortunately because of my Neulasta patch, I couldn’t shower for 27 hours. If you know one thing about me is that I like to shower at least once a day. I was simply miserable. 

With each new day comes the opportunity to come back to center, for me, it is the time I spend reading the Bible and in prayer. I started yesterday off beautifully. I stayed busy as I held out for that evening shower. So it was with some dismay that so much hair was falling out in the shower. 

It has been a little over a week that I have noticed hair loss. This was something that I was trying to avoid with the cold cap treatment. On Tuesday there were no bald spots which is really great. But yesterday night was different. I am balding in spots. After a bit of a cry, I shared the news with Stephen, the kids, and my siblings. Funny, calling the, was more about giving them a heads up that I was going to look different than it was an act of self-consolation. 

You see, this is hard, but I have God by my side and I know that this hair loss means that the chemo is working. I want this cancer GONE! If it takes my hair so be it. Just leave me cancer!

This song popped up the other day and I added it to my running playlist as I often do when good songs come on. When it came on during my run/walk the day after I met with my surgeon I had the opportunity to actually listen to the lyrics and I was brought to a standstill with tears pouring down my face. 

I feel glorious, glorious
Got a chance to start again
I was born for this, born for this
It’s who I am, how could I forget?
I made it through the darkest part of the night
And now I see the sunrise
Now I feel glorious, glorious
I feel glorious, glorious

Cancer sucks. Cancer during a pandemic sucks more. But I am strong. And I am loved. Each step towards healing is a glorious gift. As I listened to the lyrics by heart swelled. I simply could not contain how much love I felt in my heart for all my blessings. In a minute I could call on any of my siblings and they would come running. My father in his elderly state would do ANYTHING for me. Stephen and the kids would too!

Damn, this cancer stinks, but my blessings are greater and for that, I feel GLORIOUS!

Last Tuesday I met with my surgeon. Being a quarter way through my chemo she wanted to check if there was any shrinking of the cancer in my lyphnodes. The great news is that there was some shrinking which means the chemo seems to be working. 

As the masses in my breast are not seen well with the ultrasound machine, we couldn’t really check on those. Because my cancer is not visible in a mammogram or ultrasound I asked if a double mastectomy might be a smart decision to avoid a future undetected cancer. That, or would I be a candidate for an annual MRI. The doctor said that I am now a candidate for an annual MRI which is great news. She also shared that she feels a lumpectomy might be all that I need if the chemo continues to do its job. 

My surgeon is highly recommended, but she is also a sweet soul and I left her office feeling thoughtfully cared for. Surgery is due in March and I feel that I will be in great hands. 

My cancer is not…..terminal. That makes me incredibly lucky.

My cancer ….was caught early. How grateful I am my doctor requested additional tests. 

My cancer is not…..a childhood cancer. I am a grown woman who can deal with the poking and prodding. I can understand the disease and am old enough to reason that the pain is temporary. 

My cancer is… in my body, not that of my child. Many would give anything to be in my shoes. 

My cancer is…..curable, not simply treatable. This disease is a chapter in my book and I get to turn to another after. For some, they will endure this disease and its treatment indefinitely to keep cancer at bay so that they can stay alive. 

My cancer treatment is…being taken care of by the insurance coverage I have. 

My cancer…is not preventing me from earning an income. 

Yes, my cancer is defining this time in my life, but I know that it does not define me. I recognize the impact it is having, but my blessings are greater than this disease. If you feel sad for me, please don’t. But if you want to do something I know that Anne’s Place or St. Jude’s Hospital are two organizations that support those who need assistance. For me, I simply ask that you say a prayer in my name. Cancer has not only shown me how very lucky I am but also how very much I have to live for. 

I am a runner. I like to wake up by 4 am, drink a cup of coffee, read the Bible, and pray. Then I walk out my door and meet my friend Lisa for a run. Typically we run 6 miles, but on the weekend we can run up to 10 or 12. It is what keeps me healthy both physically and mentally. 

Since my cancer diagnosis, everyone has told me to listen to my body and I have. As a woman who never suffered from menstrual cramps and who has only had a few headaches in her life, I am unable to ignore the nausea and body aches of chemo. There was also the week and a half before my treatment started that I had the port put in. Having a protruding device that is still healing from its placement also impacts one’s runs. Especially when it is right near your bra strapline. 

SOOO, when I woke up this morning I listened to my body. It told me to get out and get some fresh air. The plan was to take a walk, but just in case I put on my sports bra. 

Having my bra strap not touch my port was a win that I very much needed (note my smile). I did actually mention this very concern to my surgeon which may be part of the reason that it is located where is, but it may have just been good luck. I quickly got all geared up. It was a nippy 26F this morning which is good. I am not meant to be pulling my hair back, nor am I meant to wash it more than once a week. I don’t think I could run in the summer with my hair down. Having cancer during the winter is a WIN!

I walked and ran to start, but halfway through my loop, I put my running mix on. I knew today was not about listening to podcasts or the news, but all about escaping into music. It was bliss. One of the songs that popped onto my list was recently borrowed from my friend Jill’s running list. It brought a smile to my face thinking of times we have spent dancing together and of times to come doing the same. 

The next song that I stopped on was shared by my friend Nancy. She recommended it when I was looking for songs for an upcoming half-marathon. This song is one that often brings me to dance and/or clap while I am running. As it started I simply smiled, but as I sang the lyrics hit me.  “The whole world’s out of sync.” You’re telling me! How unfair it is that I have cancer?!?!? I eat so healthily! I run all the time! I don’t use chemicals in my home cleaning products! Crickey, I make my own almond milk!

I stopped, cried, and closed my eyes. I wanted to scream, but I knew that I would alarm my neighbors, so I decided to just stand there and breathe. In a flash, I knew that it wasn’t in fact unfair. That this cancer, the very two cancerous growths that they still cannot see with a mammogram may have been there for some time. Maybe my healthy lifestyle slowed the growth. Maybe doing the right thing helped me in some way. I will never know, but this for sure, but it is a definite maybe.

Maybe the cancer is a gift to remind me that I have had 49 really wonderful years and that if I want to have 49 more I need to continue to embrace the good that I have been blessed with and to continue to treat myself in a respectful manner. 

The song played on and I danced and ran and dance some more. And then I thought of my friends dancing to this song. And that was JOY. So, don’t feel sad for me. Nope. Scroll up, hit play and DANCE!!!!

My first chemo session was this past Tuesday. I had been warned that the side effects might not hit me until two or three days afterward. I felt GREAT the day after and it wasn’t until Thursday that the queasiness and lightheadedness hit. Sure I didn’t feel great, but I didn’t feel awful. Drinking fresh ginger tea and eating loads of bread made a huge difference. Easy. 

On Saturday it started to become clear that the Neufesta was doing its job. Unfortunately, that meant every bone in my body was sore. Every bone, my cheekbones, my cranium, my back…. I am sure you get it. It was then that I realized that I was sick. Sick during a pandemic. Now, I am a pretty optimistic and positive person so imagine my realizing that I am at very high risk if I catch Covid-19. 

Saturday night I realized that I have some choices to make to keep myself safe. I could ask my family to quarantine, but I can’t. I simply can not ask that of my children. This pandemic has already been so unfair to them. They are still my priority and any plan needs to have their needs at the top of the list. 

My plan A was to get them all in a car and ship them off to Snowmass. It is where they were meant to be if I had not gotten my diagnosis. After chats with family and a couple of friends, I think we have a Plan B. Right now it looks as Lana will move in with Raquel. Lana is the most ‘active’ of the four of us so ‘removing’ her from the mix might make me and the others less likely to contract Covid. 

I know that Lana is ready to go off into the world. She has utterly impressed both Stephen and myself this year in the manner with which she has tackled every aspect of the pandemic, the college application process, and life. I had joked that I wanted to spoil her rotten this year because she will be off next September. So this, this seems a little unfair. I really want my girl here. I love dotting on her, I love our chats, I love our laughs. Asking Lana to go to Raquel’s is about the least natural thing for this mother to do. But I am doing it for her. I want her to continue to live her life, to swim, to see her friends. And more than anything I want years and years to enjoy with her. I love you Lana.