I am long overdue for an update on my health. I’m not even sure where to start and I admit that I have major writer’s block, both mentally and physically. So with that disclaimer, here we go…

 

Back in March, I started having growing nerve pain on my left side. After having an MRI it was determined by the doctor that I needed to go to the hospital right away for steroids to help with the inflammation surrounding part of my spinal cord. I was told that the cancer had spread and grown inside my spinal cord and surgery would be necessary to remove the cancer and hopefully remedy the pain. This felt like insult to injury and I had a hard time processing the diagnosis and proposed plan. 

 

After a lot of tears, and discussion with my sister and God, I decided to move forward with the surgery. I had also been told around this time that we were out of treatment options and at this point, the disease would spread more rapidly. Just great. Exactly the news I was hoping for. What I didn’t see coming is how God met me in my fear and he promises never to leave us. And while my fear wasn’t completely removed, God gave me the peace and joy I needed to get through a very difficult procedure.

 

I stayed in the hospital for several days after the surgery. It went well and thankfully the only blowback is limited use of my left hand. This is for sure frustrating, to say the least, but with all the things that could have gone wrong, I’m thankful. Recovery happened slowly and took about 3-4 months. 

 

At this point, cancer has spread throughout my body. It has set up shop in some important organs (liver, lungs, stomach), brain and quite a few bones throughout; this is all really hard to wrap my head around. The pathology that came out of the cancer that was removed during surgery opened the door for me to try 2 more drugs. I have tried one of them and it was not helpful against the cancer. I am on the second one now, but it is too soon to tell. 

 

Sometimes it is really hard to accept that this is my life, but here we are. I don’t really question “why me?”, because why not me or why anyone, but I do struggle with the unknown. The how’s and when’s try their best to pull my eyes away from My Savior. I would like things to be easier now, but the bible tells me that I am not lost or forgotten and that I will be with Jesus for eternity. There will be no more tears or hurt, but instead great praise to God for his never-ending glory and love.

 

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be morning, crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:21:4 

This is HOPE for my future!

 

In the meantime, God is holding tight to me and he reminds me that I can do what James urges us to do:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:2-4

So with my heart full of his goodness, I can say yes to God and Amen to his will for my life. 

 

 

 

“Does the coronavirus cause me to fear?” it is a question I’ve been asked a lot lately. I would be lying if I said no, but saying yes doesn’t quite line up either. Everyday I get up and look at fear in the mirror. My face and my body remind me that things change quickly and you never know what can happen. Being diagnosed with cancer, especially stage 4 cancer, was never on my fear radar, yet here I am. Every night I go to bed and it whispers in my ear of all the things that could happen with my health, and now even more so with cv19 and the cancer I have in both lungs. But here’s the thing, fear is a liar.

I’m not for one-second saying fear is not convincing, it most definitely is. For a long time I didn’t recognize it as fear. It was kind of a wolf in sheep’s clothing situation and it would cause me to spiral low as it told me all kinds of things about who I am and what could happen. I lived out of my fear and for a time it was even somewhat motivating, but it was exhausting and life stealing.

This past year my thinking has slowly changed, and therefore my life has changed. After I moved back to IL I started seeing a counselor at my church for biblical counseling. For the past few years I went to a counselor specifically for cancer and then, later, a Christian counselor. Both allowed my to talk as much as I wanted, say the deep dark things I was afraid of regarding my sickness and share the regrets I have, but inside I didn’t really feel any better. None of them were able to help me at the heart level, and quite frankly that is fair because I don’t think it is their practice to do so. In biblical counseling, it is far less about me and much more about who God is—it’s a change in perspective from me to Him. And this change is everything.

Some days I can see the changes in my heart so clearly, other days I wonder if I’ve even changed very much at all. Then God kindly reminds me that it really isn’t about me changing enough to become good enough for Him. Even when I can’t stand myself for one more second His word tells me about what Jesus Christ did for me on the cross, and THAT is what changes everything.

“I don’t know the end or tomorrow’s story but I have found the one that gives me rest

And I will make my bed in His promises, for He holds true when nothing’s left”

~Time, by Jon Lucas

So back to the original question, am I fearful with everything that is going on? Yes. But I have found The One who gives me rest. I will never know what tomorrow brings, but I know who to run to with every fear I have, even if I have to do it 10x a day or 50x an hour. Jesus covers me and my hope for eternity is in Him. That doesn’t mean that I won’t get the virus (or something else) and it doesn’t mean that I will be healed of cancer in this life, but I believe that we have a kind, loving God who knows every hair on our heads and every fear we have and His promises are true.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1

“Oh God be our hope in the middle of the drought, and the flood
Grant us not wealth nor too little so we remember you're in our blood

Teach us to plant in our sorrows and trust the rain will come

Teach us to lie down in peace and rest when the day is done”

~When the Well Runs Dry, by Liv Douglas and Jon Lucas

Hearing these song lyrics feels like the prayer my heart has been singing but couldn’t find the words for… God is more than enough, in scary times and in peaceful times. He is the author and creator of my life and he knows all the days accounted for me (Psalm 139:16). This time is important; I can let fear steal it, or I can trust God by planting in the hard time, then resting and trusting He will grow something very much alive in Him in His time.

Thankful. For Him and for you 

My View From the Chemo Chair

I used to think that when people had a major, undesirable life change they automatically got the right thinking and a clear perspective. Like somehow you wake up with a pillowcase over your head and it is yanked off to reveal you are in a real life nightmare. You are at some sort of terrible party you'd been forced to go to against your will, and new found clarity about life is the door prize. All of the sudden your superpower is seeing what really matters--only the truly important things--and you are able to love everyone better and forgive anyone anything, immediately. In that single, life-changing, moment you become the very best version of yourself you've always wanted to be. False. Wrong. Incorrect-o. WILD LIES. And if someone tells you they didn't, or don't still wrestle through the difficulties, RUN AWAY. Or, on second though, maybe I'll have what they're having!

I've been in and out of chemo chairs lately, this time since November 2018. Exactly 2 days after my carefully poured over post on David and Goliath I found myself under the bright lights of the trauma room in the ER at 2am because of heart issues. Life is funny like that, isn't it? I went on to have a wild October in and out of the hospital, undergoing all the tests and gathering all the bad reports. We found out my cancer had spread to more organs. We were all in rough shape, to say the least. From October to March my family, friends and church took turns coming to stay with me and helping with everything pretty much back to back. It became clear this was not sustainable and that it was time for me to move back home from Wisconsin to Central Illinois, where I grew up. My doctor is now in Peoria IL and my current treatment is once per week, with a break every 3rd week. There are good days, bad days and days in between. I'm told they are all part of the journey, but I will admit that this is not the one I would have chosen given the option at the journey store. No one would. 

Most of the time I can't see the direct reasons why people have to go through so much suffering in this life, but I also believe that Jesus went through more suffering for me than I could possibly endure. I believe there is a lot to learn in suffering and it is for our good, but still don't like it. I so often get stuck thinking I have such lovely ideas about how my life should go, but my view only includes ONE perspective, mine. I believe God is changing my heart little by little to be more like Jesus. I also trust he knows the best way to do that because his view includes ALL the perspectives. But I admit trusting God is not what I instinctively want to do--I want to trust ME (not the Taylor Swift song). I clinch my fists so tightly my fingernails dig into my palms so that I can control everything, hoping I can beat the odds with my "perfect" actions and stay on this earth a long, long time. But the longer I am given the privilege of this "inevitable adventure", called life (Andrew Peterson, https://rabbitroom.com/2013/01/youll-find-your-way-a-letter-and-a-video/), the more I realize I am wasting my focus during the life I have been given trying muscle the outcome I want. For a very long time, even before cancer, I exhausted myself physically and emotionally trying to drink deeply from what was actually just a desert mirage. I will never be able to muscle anything enough, ever. But Jesus did. And I am thankful for God's mercy and grace and promises.
John 15: 4-5, 4Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.  5I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

My view from the chemo chair today reminded me that the glory I see from the window wouldn't be any more beautiful if I didn't have cancer. I don't need to be on a mountain top to be awed by it. The beauty of God's creation is not affected or altered by our circumstances. It's there for all of us to see no matter what season we are in, however rich, poor, tired, sad, happy, satisfied or unsatisfied we may be. God knows every blade of grass in that yard and every leaf on the tree, he shaped every cloud in the sky, and he even knows every tick (barf) in that tall waving grass. So I am comforted that he sees me, right there in that chair, often uncertain, teetering towards fear and still at times overwhelmed by all of this. He hears me pray for faith, strength and courage, and thank him for my eternal hope in Jesus. I also believe he wants me to know I am deeply loved, feel his comfort and trust in his goodness and promises.

The days of summer march on and the enchanting fireflies have come out to brighten my night sky. I can see the stars from where I live for the first time in years--such gifts. Things can change quickly sometimes, but I can report that I feel stronger physically than I felt in March. I want ALL the days God has allotted for me, and I truly hope that there are many! 

Here's a link to the song I listened to over and over today:

https://youtu.be/DR9EIUXEe9Y

This morning I woke up feeling the same things I feel most days. There are the life-stealing feeling, like fear surrounding my health and unknown future, all the questions, how’s, what-ifs and regret. Then come prayers, thankfulness, hopefulness, healing and grace, followed by more prayers that the knowledge of what God has already done in my life outshine the dark, joy-stealing, thoughts. And even though the clouds come back around sometimes, God’s love and mercy out shine the darkness. 

The “beast” of cancer was on intimidation overdrive this morning and God kindly reminded me of the story of David and Goliath in 1 Samuel 17. Who was David that he should stand up against this giant, beast of a man-destroyer? Nobody. He was a youngest son, a regular guy, who was also probably pretty good at keeping an eye on sheep, since that was his day (and night) job. That’s it, folks. He couldn’t even wear the armor they tried to put on him to help protect him while fighting the giant beast. What chance did he have in this fight? Slim at best, but probably closer to zero, at least that’s what everyone thought. 

So the big fight comes, and after Goliath basically says he is going to rip David from limb to limb and feed him to the animals in his scariest giant voice, David says in vs. 42-46, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD ALMIGHTY, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will hand you over to me, and I will strike you down and cut off your head.“ David is not kidding around here. Then in vs. 47 David pulls the mightiest weapon possible, “All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

I know David sounds all confident and fully assured, but he had to have some amount of fear. You don’t go into battle with nothing but a slingshot and a God you can’t even physically see next to you and not feel SOME amount of fear. (Or maybe I’m just projecting…)
I guess that is what impacted me—it seems to me that David was a regular person, who probably had regular person feelings, and he stood confidently in the face of almost certain defeat declaring faith and victory because of who God says He is. And that was more than enough. Spoiler alert, David flies the W.

I am no biblical scholar, and clearly the story of David and Goliath is technically not about “cancer”, more like biblical times turf wars and important stuff like that, but it encouraged me today. 

I know October is a month promoting “awareness” but I was thinking maybe we could instead challenge ourselves to be aware that we all have “goliaths” in our lives; they are just called something different. And if you really want to help people with breast cancer this month maybe just buy them a bunch of organic, green, broccoli. That would be super helpful and healing. 

xoxo

Hi everyone, happy 2018 (a little late...)!

I wanted to give you a quick update on things. So far I have had 3 PET scans, one was in March 2017, second was July 2017 and then I had a third in early January. My oncologist wants me to repeat scans every 5-6 months (unless there is reason for concern prior to that time line). The scan last in March was not great (showed lung, lymph node and tail bone involvement), but the one in July showed some improvement (clear lymph nodes, less chaos on the lung and smaller tail bone lesion). From my understanding, the results of the most recent one was very similar to the July scan--which is good, and I am very grateful!

We keep an eye on things because at some point the cancer could out smart the medication. I also have a monthly check in with my oncologist and we do blood work, etc. The last several months my white blood counts continue to lower, which is a side effect of the medication. In full transparency, this is concerning because those are my fighter cells, which I need to fight cancer.... It's really frustrating, but I am hopeful!

I didn't set "resolutions" for this year, but decided I want to be really intentional about my health, and my role in things (plus, I thrive on a good experiment!). I will be researching and incorporating things into my diet and lifestyle in hopes of boosting my WBC and strengthening my immune system. And ultimately healing this cancer situation completely--I am believing this is possible! If I pop in your head from time to time, I would really appreciate your continued prayers, and thank you so much for all the ones you have already said on my behalf--you help hold me up.
💗💗💗 xoxo

**If you are interested in following along, I will be posting updates/information on my "2 Shots of Valor" Facebook page. I am hoping this information will be helpful to others, especially since it has been a rough winter for many people I know getting colds, the flu, etc. I know, sadly, that cancer and sickness have affected SO many people's lives. Maybe there may be something I have to share that can help someone, or someone who knows someone, etc. Lot's of love to you 💕💕💕

North Star, lost then found.

For quite awhile I've been feeling pretty lost in life. I know I'm not actually lost, and I feel like I am finally starting to find my way, but when the contents of your life gets dumped out like an old diorama, it's not easy to find your North Star.

When I was diagnosed back in 2014 my world collapsed. It felt like Godzilla came along and brought his BFF, Destruction, for an old fashion hay day. At the time I really wasn't able to confront the giant lizard, so I hid in a back alley with my head down waiting desperately for the day it would be "over". That went on for about a year and half. When I thought the dust had settled enough to return to my life and try to put everything back together, it was a lot harder than I imagined. The pieces didn't fit the way they used to, and for all my efforts and tears, I still couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

I figured I'd wait it out and eventually I'd find a new North Star that would look really similar to my old one, with maybe a few reasonable adjustments. But then, when I found out the cancer had spread, life came to a screeching halt. Finding a new North Star was not even on the radar for many months while I lived in somewhat of a crisis mode. Since my last surgery, in late July, things have calmed down enough for me look up and wonder which star/path is mine to follow, and realize it will never look anything like my old star.

With that wonder has come questions. The big ones. Like: What do you want to do with the time you have here? What do you want to leave behind? What have you done with all the time you've already been given? What do you want to say to others? To anyone who may want to listen? To life? And of course, is anyone I know prepared to love my cats as much as I do??? Probably not, so I should probably stick around for as long as possible.  And while I'm at it, try to explore the answers to some of the previous questions.

During my search for some of these answers I went to an art fair last month with some dear friends. I saw 2 pieces of art that struck me immediately. One was of a cat, gigantic like Godzilla, over the city of Milwaukee, and the other was a card with various mountains painted on it and below said the words I have been thinking on ever since, "Be Kind, Be Brave"; four simple word, two simple questions. I began to ask myself, "What is the kindest thing I can do with the life I have, and what is the bravest thing I can do?". I have landed on an answer to both, at least partially. Simply share.

Find my voice and share it, along with my life and story, with you, and anyone else who wants to listen. Not just the pretty and polished parts, all the parts--or, as much as I can get the courage to share (baby steps).

So far, the answer has been the only part that has felt easy. After these last few years I feel like I lost my voice, and I definitely lost who I thought I was and what I thought I had to contribute. But I want to start contributing again, although it is terrifying. I WANT to share my story, the things I have learned and my life with you. I don't want to hide in the back alley (or really anywhere) anymore. The coping strategy of "hunker down until it blows over" just does not apply anymore. It is a different life in so many ways.

My new North Star is leading me down a different path.

I started my 2 Shots of Valor Facebook page as a central location to share. I honestly have no idea what I am doing, but I'm going for it and we can laugh at my fumbles and misspellings along the way, together. I hope you find it helpful. I hope we both find it encouraging, comforting and healing. And don't worry, there will be plenty of pictures of my cats along the way (give the people what they really want!!).

Thank you for sticking with me through the quiet. I'm still here, and very much alive.
xoxo

When life hands you lemons, get a kitten.

On February 18^th I turned 38, 6 days later I was told I have stage 4 breast cancer. Wait….,WHAT???! Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought, too. Let’s back up…

The week before my birthday I took a short vacation with some friends. I had been traveling non-stop for work and needed a break. When I got home I thought I was coming down with something. I was a little short of breath and coughing here and there, but I did not feel sick. All I wanted for my birthday was couch time.

When the symptoms continued but I was clearly not developing a cold, I went to a Yoga class to “focus on my breath”. I thought the shortness of breath must just be anxiety, but while the stretching felt good there was no improvement in the breathing department.

I was scheduled to fly out again on Wednesday for work, but after talking to my sister Elisabeth (nurse sister) I knew I needed to get checked out prior to flying. She was concerned there may be a clot in my lung, which could be a BIG problem at 35,000 feet. I had an appointment with my counselor at the hospital the next day so I planned to see if she could get me in with someone on short notice. By the time I met with her something was noticeably wrong. I was having a really hard time breathing and major anxiety. I left the appointment early and drove a few blocks to the ER to begin the stabbing and probing to figure out what was wrong with me.

They did x-rays, a CT, blood work, etc. and determined there was fluid all around my right lung; so basically I was only breathing with one lung for the last few days. Great. The anxiety made a lot more sense now. I was admitted to the hospital that evening. On Wednesday morning they removed the fluid so it could be tested. I’ll spare you the details, but you’ll want to add that to your list of things to avoid if humanly possible.

After sitting in the hospital and getting no information or results for another 36 hours, I finally asked them to release me. I knew they were concerned the cancer had spread and I couldn’t take them looking at me with “sad/poor you, we know something but aren’t telling you faces” any longer. If I had to sit, cry and wait, I wanted to be a home burying my face in my cat’s fur (He really loves the personal space invasion).

The robotic call came Friday morning, February 24^th. I’m sure it was a Doctor on the other end of the line, but I’m guessing wire and screws have long since replaced his insides. I don’t blame him, I’m sure it’s an occupational hazard that comes with giving this type of news. He suggested I move up my 6 month routine check-up scheduled for May 1^st. Seriously? I’m no doctor, but I think that went without saying.

I met with my oncologist the following week as well as a pulmonary doctor for my lung situation. I also returned to the ER to drain the fluid around my lung, again. The week after, they placed a semi-permanent catheter so the fluid could be drained as needed without me having to go into the ER every time. This was helpful, yet very painful and surreal to have a hose coming out the side of my body 24/7. A nurse came to my apartment, daily at first, to drain the fluid. God bless her.

Meanwhile, I got a PET scan, which showed the breast cancer had come back and was now on my right lung and possibly a bone in my tailbone area. The doctor explained that the cells found in the fluid were consistent with the cells found in the original tumor removed in 2015 and were very high in estrogen. What has proven true over and again, is that cancer is confusing, at least to me anyway.

My oncologist gave me her care plan, so I got a second opinion at the University of Chicago. The initial plan included 12 rounds of Taxol Chemo (which I did in 2015), followed by a daily chemo pill, a hormone suppression pill and, ideally, by having my ovaries removed surgically. I said no. Initially. I just needed time to think and breathe. After my 2014 diagnosis I panicked and rushed my decisions, understandably, but I knew I did not want to take that approach again.

After researching and taking into consideration both doctor’s opinions I decided I would do the daily chemo pill and the hormone suppressing pill along with a monthly shot to shut down my ovaries until I could process and research more. At that time I said no to the 12 rounds of Taxol. The treatments I agreed to started in April.

Most of the decisions I have made regarding all things cancer have been really hard. Grueling even. But within 24 hours of being re-diagnosed there were 2 things I knew I 100% wanted to do:

1. Get my reconstruction implants removed from the double mastectomy in 2015 (the major discomfort, complications, etc. over the past 2 years was no longer worth it),

2. Adopt a kitten (because baby animals make everything better. It’s science).

March 12^th A.W. Tozer came to live with Boo Radley and me.

April 13^th I had the removal surgery.

After a long process healing from surgery, the last couple months have been better. With treatment, the fluid around the lung slowed to a more “normal”/manageable amount after about 3-4 weeks. In early May the lung doctor decided we could go ahead and remove the catheter he placed back in March, and so far all is well. I never imagined being free of tubes coming out of my body would be anywhere on my gratitude list, but it is now up near the top.

Currently, I’m feeling pretty well. They continue to monitor my blood work monthly, as well as monthly shots and meeting with my oncologist. The daily chemo pill makes my white count a bit low so I am not able to keep up with my work travel schedule. Short-term disability and family and friends’ contributions help so much. I have another PET scan scheduled for July 24^th, so I will know more when I meet with the doctor in early August.

Honestly, when I first heard the words “Stage 4” it FELT like a death sentence—but I KNOW now that is not necessarily the case.

The last few months I have spent more time with my family, friends and cats, which has been a gift. I am also working, via phone, with an integrative doctor out of Memphis, TN, and he is very encouraging. I know there are more difficult decisions to be made, but I will huff some essential oils and cross that road when and if the time comes.

I believe that God is with me every step, through the good days and the bad days, tears, anger, laugher, etc., and He loves me even more than I love my cats (if that’s even possible…). The fact that He doesn’t change, even though everything else feels like it has, somehow makes me feel better and have more stability.

Thank you for reading this and for caring about me. I know this isn’t the fun thing to read. Thank you for your prayers and/or thinking of me.

xoxo 

Spring is Finally Here

Hello Friend. Thank you for reading. I think I had a dream that I updated my blog more recently; I cannot believe it was back in November! Time is a funny thing. Last year at this time I was in the middle of chemo and time dragged so slowly. I felt like it would never end. And now, a year later, the days are flying by as I prepare to return to work. I'll be honest, I am nervous. But I know it is time.

I finished radiation in mid-December and by the end I was very tired, burned and had the general feeling of being hit by a truck (or, at least what I imagine it would feel like---thank God I don't actually know what that feels like!). Over Christmas and New Year I went to Illinois and spent time with my family and worked on recovering.

After I healed somewhat from radiation, I met with my plastic surgeon in late January. At that time it was decided that I needed another surgery because things were not healing they way they should. You can imagine my excitement. One of the hardest parts of treatment was physically getting knocked down just when I started to get back up on my feet. After 3 surgeries, 8 rounds of chemo and 25 radiation sessions, I remember sitting in my counselor's office, doing the ugly cry, and saying "I just can't take it anymore. I am really starting to lose it." And I was. But thankfully the sun came up the next day, and the next, and I listened to the album, "A Table Full of Strangers", by Jason Upton on repeat. Specifically song #6. I healed and 6 weeks after surgery I was allow to lift things over 10 pounds, run, etc., and I started to feel alive again.

At church we have been going through the seasons. In the winter we talked about the snow being a metaphor for God's covering in or lives to protect and prepare us to grow. The snow has all melted here and everywhere are signs of growth and new life. Everything that appeared to be dead is now coming to life. The other day I said to my friend, somewhat panicked, "I'm not ready! I don't know how to come back to life..." and she so kindly smiled and said to me, "But you can. And you will. And it will be awesome." I repeat those words to myself often. God is slowly bringing me into spring.

I read a quote today that I really like, "All your past except its beauty is gone, and nothing is left but a blessing", Marianne Williamson. I would like to remember those words.

So back to work I go...this Tuesday. I fly to Dallas on Tuesday for a training class that will last about a week, then I will be back home for 5 days and then leave again for more training. Allstate, my boss and coworkers have been incredible to me throughout all of this and I am so,so thankful. It is an odd feeling going back. It feels familiar yet very different at the same time. But I guess that is to be expected because things are very different.

I know this post is not so light hearted, but I still wanted to share these things with you. Winter was long and hard. Spring has not exactly sprung, but is slowly coming back to my life. Believe me when I say, I CANNOT WAIT FOR SUMMER!!!

:) xoxo

A long overdue update, "it's different for everyone" and other ramblings...

Hi friends. How is everyone? I am sorry I have been missing for most of 2015. You know how people say irritating, undefinable statements like "everything happens for a reason", "it is what it is" and "it's different for everyone" and you want to punch them in face because that really doesn't answer anything? Well that has been my entire year. And I now also realize that they are entirely true. I have heard the statement "it is different for everyone" a bazillion times this year from friends and all my doctors and nurses. I have hated this statement so much because it doesn't at all prepare me for what to expect, but I have finally accepted that it is so deeply true.

I have had so much love and support from all of you since I was diagnosed 1 year ago, today, and I am so, so thankful. I realized you may not know this since most of you haven't heard much from me along the way. I stopped writing when I started chemo. It was like I just couldn't find words. Words just felt empty. The truth is, I was trapped under a very large and heavy shame rock. Sounds weird, right? Yeah, it felt weird. It took me a long time to figure out what was going on and why I felt this way. The reality is, I felt really scared, weak (both physically and emotionally), guilty, vulnerable and exposed. I wasn't positive and did not have brave or strong feelings or things to say so I said nothing at all. Which turned into a spiral because then I felt bad for not communicating. I never would have guessed I would have responded this way, but proven once again to be painfully true, "it's different for everyone"

So with this post I would just like to apologize, say a very heart felt thank you to my friends and family and send a long over due update.

Chemo was every other week starting in April and ending mid-July. It was hard. Losing my hair wasn't actually that bad. Having a port in my chest, losing my eye brows, eye lashes and feeling like a swollen, disfigured lunatic, due to the steroids, were the parts I struggled with. Thankfully chemo is over. I had reconstruction surgery September 10th and they also removed the port. My parents and sisters have been an invaluable part of my surgery recoveries and each round of chemo.

I started Radiation on November 2nd (thank you Jenni Zook for helping me with that decision and being my friend since the halls of Eureka Middle School. And all my EMS/EHS friends for still being so supportive after all these years and in spite of that time in 8th grade when the blood vessel burst in my eye and I looked like a monster). I go to Froedtert Hospital every day, Monday-Friday, for treatment--it is basically like ground hog day, the movie. I have 2 weeks left of the 5 week treatment regimen. It is going as well as it can, I think. The side effects are mostly tiredness and skin irritation. For a claustrophobic person, such as myself, one of the worst parts is being strapped to the table with an ungodly chin strap for each treatment as the table digs into my head and I count to 10 on repeated and remind myself that a person can handle anything for 10 seconds, while listening to country music songs about bars, trucks and pretty girls and think about how similar our lives are. And by similar, I mean polar opposite.

Anyway... You may be asking what's next? How do we know if treatment worked? Well, we don't. Which is a hard thing to wrap my head around. Next, I will be watched like a hawk by my doctors for the next 5 years and they will also want me to take a pill everyday to block estrogen. I am now working to rebuild strength, stamina and emotions so I can return to work hopefully in early 2016.

So on the anniversary of my diagnosis I am looking out at the first snow fall of the year with my cat, Boo Radley, thinking about the past year. So much has changed, and still changing. God is doing something with all of this. I don't know what, but I feel it. I have so much less control than I could have ever realized. I am learning to let go and replace my clenched fists with open palms. It has been a long and painful year. You all were with me through it even if you didn't realize it. Thank you.

You never know what choices you will actually make or how you will respond to bad news until the idea of the bad news becomes reality. Six months ago if I had been asked if I would ever do chemo, my answer would likely have been no. Truthfully, the idea of chemo and the side effects scares me. I'm sure it would scare anyone. The last few months have showed me that you just never know...I start chemo tomorrow. 

I have seen several oncologists and researched conventional and non-conventional options and have decided that the best fit for me is to combine both. This option is not readily available so I am so thankful it is close enough to Milwaukee that I can drive, stay for a few days, and then drive back home. Treatment will take place at the Block Center in Chicago: http://www.blockmd.com/

This morning my friend Magda went with me to have the port put in and then we went to the Block Center were I got a high dose vitamin C treatment, worked with a physical therapist and met with the PA's and nurses to prepare for tomorrow. Chemo will take 5 months, 16 rounds total, and I am still considering radiation. In the mean time the team I work with will focus on nutrition changes, lifestyle and rehabilitation, all while going through chemo. The additional treatments will not prolong my recovery and they are individualized specifically for me--which is my favorite part.

I know people go through this everyday and I am amazed and thankful for the people I have met along the way. Their stories encourage me and the doctors and nurses at Froedert and the Block Center have been amazing. I have no idea how I will react to chemo, which makes me nervous, but I am feeling more positive and that I finally have some direction.

Also, thank you for being hopeful and positive for me these past few months when I have struggled. The email, calls and texts really do bless me.  

Well, it's been officially 6 weeks as of today. I'd like to think that I have made the most of the past 6 weeks and the surgery recovery down time, but to be honest I've really only done 3 things--see doctors, research and binge watch Grey's Anatomy on Netflix. 

The doctors at Froedtert have tracked my recovery progress, helped get my arms moving and talked me through their suggestions for treatment. Currently they are recommending chemo for 5 months, radiation and ongoing medication--which made me to do a lot of research. All of these treatments have been tested and are known to often treat my type of cancer but also have side effects, potential risks and are not always effective. Since I can't swing a trip to Mexico right now, I looked for information on places that would provide integrative options a little closer to my neighborhood. I found the Block Center in Chicago and I have an appointment on April 1st. I am planning to meet the doctors and staff for a second opinion prior to starting chemo (which is currently scheduled to start on the 3rd). The Block center offers traditional treatments like chemo and radiation as well treatments like acupuncture, high-dose vitamin C and individualized nutrition counseling. For right now the jury is still out on what my exact treatment plan will be, but I'll let you know when I know. 

In other news, I have had several visits with some of my friend from the Chicago area. It was beyond great to see them and have help with really fun things like laundry! I have learned that laundry is a lot more bearable if you get a cup of the best latte you've ever had and conquer the local laundromat with friends. Also, a squirrel jumped out of my dumpster at me last week, which is clearly a health hazard. 

Lastly, thank you for your continued encouragement and support. I have a long list of people to write back and people to thank, but for now, even if I haven't responded to a message or text yet, please know it is not unnoticed or unappreciated. I truly appreciate you. 

5 Day Update

I arrived at the hospital at 5:00 am on Thursday the 12th. They took me back and began prep and all the set up around 5:20. At this point things moved quickly. They hooked up the IV and all the other necessary weird surgery tubes and apparatuses like a well oiled machine. I, on the other hand, cried a lot. And although I was as ready as I could possibly be and ready to get this thing removed, I honestly was scared. They gave me an epidural and at that point I knew I did not want be awake for any more of the surgical process. Apparently it started about 7:30 am and ended around 2:00 pm. I cannot verify that information because I was gladly asleep.

Waking up is the strangest experience; you can hear before you can actually open your eyes. When you are finally able to open your eyes, things slowly come into focus, similar to the way it is projected in movies. I was very disoriented when I woke up, but obviously happy to be awake.

After they took all my vitals and monitored me for awhile, my surgeon came to speak with me. Dr. Kong said things went very well. In addition to the surgery for the tumor she took 3 lymph nodes. The preliminary testing showed 2 nodes were clean and 1 had cancer cells. Everything has been sent to pathology and they will have all the specifics in 5-7 business days. Nothing will be determined until the actual results are back.

I got to my room around 3:30 pm. All of the nurses staff were amazing and it made completely worth it to go out in the freezing cold of Milwaukee.

The first days after were not as bad as I thought although I did not have much use of my arms. They left the epidural in for the first 24 hours and I felt pretty good. After it was removed the story was a bit different... Each day is slowly getting better. Friday I had a few different visitors and flowers to cheer up my room. Thank you!!!

I was released from the hospital yesterday afternoon. At that point my parents went home and my sister Elisabeth stayed to take first watch. She will stay until Thursday and Lora will come up to replace her for a few days. At that point we will play it by ear (finally a benefit to being the youngest of 6--lots of people to help :). Physical Therapy starts next week and it will be 3-4 weeks before I can drive, and longer for full range of motion.

Tomorrow is a follow up with one of the surgeons to see how I am recovering. Once pathology results are in I will meet with an oncologist to discuss treatment.

Calling and/or texting has been more difficult than I planned, but I hope to be able to communicate more directly soon. In the mean time I wanted to update you here. Thank you for reading and for you thoughts and prayers. Thank you also for the encouragement and support. Seriously, thank you. I could not walk through all of this alone.

On my way to the hospital. My parents and sister Sarah are here with me. Long day ahead, for everyone. I am very thankful for all the prayers and well wishes from all of you. 

10 days and counting

Everything about this is changing me,,. slowly. I never wanted to ask for help, yet I am. I did not want to live again in blizzard land, yet here I am. I tried to work hard and fly under the attention radar, but I think you all know what is happening. I traveled with a nutribullet….How did this happen? And why?

Most people are doing the best they can as often as they can. I know am.

Getting settled/walking the plank. 10 days until surgery. 

Made it to Wauwatosa. Trailer unpacked. Everyone home safe. 

Agenda

1/31
- Complete the drive to Wauwatosa, WI (Milwaukee)
- Unload the u-haul with the help of my brothers and sister before the snow comes on Sunday
2/1-2/3
- work on unpacking and getting settled
2/4
- doctor appointment
- more unpacking
2/5
- doctor appointment
- shop for post surgery
2/6-2/9
- finish preparing apartment/getting settled
2/10
- doctor appointment
2/11
- pre-surgery procedure/test/stabbing
2/12
- 5:30 am hospital arrival for surgery
2/18
- turn 36

Wondering about recovery and everything after? That makes two of us. I won't know until after surgery but I'll let you know when find out. 2015 is TBD in every way.

Williamsburg, KY

Today started way to early for my liking. I loaded the u-haul trailer with the help of my dad, Amy, Bob and Jim--there is no way I could have pulled this off without all of their help. My dad left with his truck and the trailer around 1:00 pm and I left after the necessary clean up, etc., around 3:00. We made it just over the Kentucky state line. Tomorrow is destination Milwaukee. It looks like it should be 8-11 more hours, depending on traffic, etc. Good thing I rediscovered the audio book Jamie "loaned" to me 2 years ago...Don't worry, I'll get back to you regarding my thoughts on Bossy Pants, by Tina Fey.

A lot has happened since my last post. I met with a surgeon and plastic surgeon in Milwaukee, which was followed by more tests and stabbings. The good news is that the results of the stabbings seem fairly positive, but we won't know anything for sure until surgery. In other news, I have also learned how to spell the words surgery and surgeon.

After a lot of thought, I decided I wanted the doctors I met with to be on my team--you, my dear reader, are also on my team, by the way. I have no idea of how long recovery will be or what the next year of my life looks like, so it became apparent that I would need to relocate to the great state of Wisconsin. Between appointments I was able to find an apartment in Wauwatosa, which is about 10 minutes from the hospital and 10 minutes from downtown Milwaukee (Wauwatosa, that's another new spelling word for me). Craig and Joanne, some dear friends I have in the Milwaukee area, helped with support, transportation, appointments, etc., and it was more of a blessing than I can begin to explain.

So where are we today? Well, surgery is scheduled for February 12th. I am currently in North Carolina packing up my house and saying goodbye (I flew back Monday evening), while my dad is driving down from Illinois. Saturday we will make the drive up to Wauwatosa. I have appointments February 4th, 5th, 10th and 11th, and then of course D-day on the 12th.

Packing has been hard and there has probably been an unreasonable amount of tears. I don't really want to say goodbye to this place or my wonderful neighbors, Ginny, Jim, Amy and Bob, but I think it is the right decision. In Wisconsin, my family will be within a 3.5 hour drive radius and I have a good support system with friends in the general area. Oh, how I will miss this place though. I now truly understand why James Taylor sang so many songs about the Carolina's.

Alright, back to packing...

It just keeps snowing

Heading to appointments.... Why does it have to be January in Milwaukee?

3am

3am alarm clocks are just plain ungodly. I know because that's what time mine went off today. I rolled out of bed (after appropriately hitting snooze twice) and did the normal "final packing scramble" for my 5:20 flight. Charlie, Jamie's husband, took me to the airport, where reality and emotions about leaving Idaho and the situation in general turned me in to a hot mess for the 4:30am viewing pleasure of everyone at BOI. The 1 hour delay on the runway didn't help but at least they dimmed the lights on the plane.

Why Delta would schedule at flight at 5:20am out of Boise, Idaho in January is beyond me. Turns out de-icing for an hour prior to take off is not as fun as you would imagine. Good news though, the last 3 years have primed me to make a 20 minute connection like a boss.

I landed safely in Milwaukee at 11:30am and was greeted by Michelle (who I mentioned in my previous post). Michelle shared with me her experiences, connected me with doctors at Froedtert Hospital and gave me insight into some of the unknowns. I also had dinner with her and some of her friends with additional experience, insight and encouragement.

Tomorrow (Tuesday the 13th) afternoon I will meet with 2 different surgeons. My hope and prayer is that I will have clarity, direction and most of all peace with the best decision.

This is just a quick update and I will let you know more as I know more.... As always, the fact that you care truly means the world to me.