This page is intended to share my random thoughts and stories about my journey with cancer. I cannot guarantee that they will be in chronological order. I hope that they inspire you and help you to know that you are not alone!
|
Before I get started, I want to thank everyone who has ever mentioned to me that I am an inspiration to them. You may feel inspired by me but, I gather my strength from you. I do not try to be anything than what I am, sometimes it is good and sometimes it is not so good so, I thank you for your kind words and your patience with me while I grow.
I am going to start with my thoughts from the beginning. When I first got diagnosed, it was so hard to process everything. It was hard to imagine what I was going to encounter and endure. I have a great fear of the unknown and this was truly unknown territory. No one in my family had ever had cancer so I had never been exposed to this before. It seemed like one big cruel joke. I kept waiting for someone to tell me they were just kidding. That "just kidding" never happened and ready or not I found myself in the first chapter of what would become my journey with cancer.
In the beginning I felt as if someone had their hands on my shoulders and they were leading me around. I did not have an opinion or say in what was happening. They directed me and I complied. I was overwhelmed with emotion and information and was too shocked to really question anything. I remember that I had to have my cancer "staged" but I don't remember much about the tests. I do have one recollection that stands out though. I had to have yet another test, I went to register and they asked if I had ever been to that hospital before, I said, "well, I was born here." They looked me up and found my records, that just amazed me. That same day my husband and I were sitting in the waiting room and it was the first episode of "The View" and this I will never forget, they came on the air and introduced themselves and gave a short biography of what type of "women" they were representing, the lawyer, the actor, the working woman, etc. Then they said that their opinions would be that of all women and I remember thinking you don't represent the stay at home mom who has cancer. From that moment on I could not stand that show and I still don't like it.
The first day of treatment, I had the option to have a Port-A-Cath put in or receive my chemo via my veins. They explained that my veins may not be able to handle the daily chemo that I would receive and that if I had a Port-A-Cath I could receive my chemo meds via it and they would be able to draw blood easily from it. Since I was (and still am) not a fan of needles, I chose to have the Port-A-Cath "installed." They did that minor surgery the first day I had chemo. I remember just feeling so drained by the time I got to go home. I walked into my home and my girlfriend was there, she looked at me and said, "you look great, green, but great!"
In the beginning I felt as if someone had their hands on my shoulders and they were leading me around. I did not have an opinion or say in what was happening. They directed me and I complied. I was overwhelmed with emotion and information and was too shocked to really question anything. I remember that I had to have my cancer "staged" but I don't remember much about the tests. I do have one recollection that stands out though. I had to have yet another test, I went to register and they asked if I had ever been to that hospital before, I said, "well, I was born here." They looked me up and found my records, that just amazed me. That same day my husband and I were sitting in the waiting room and it was the first episode of "The View" and this I will never forget, they came on the air and introduced themselves and gave a short biography of what type of "women" they were representing, the lawyer, the actor, the working woman, etc. Then they said that their opinions would be that of all women and I remember thinking you don't represent the stay at home mom who has cancer. From that moment on I could not stand that show and I still don't like it.
The first day of treatment, I had the option to have a Port-A-Cath put in or receive my chemo via my veins. They explained that my veins may not be able to handle the daily chemo that I would receive and that if I had a Port-A-Cath I could receive my chemo meds via it and they would be able to draw blood easily from it. Since I was (and still am) not a fan of needles, I chose to have the Port-A-Cath "installed." They did that minor surgery the first day I had chemo. I remember just feeling so drained by the time I got to go home. I walked into my home and my girlfriend was there, she looked at me and said, "you look great, green, but great!"
A question I often get asked is, "What type of cancer did you have?" My original diagnosis was Hemangiopericytoma, a very rare cancer. My entire treatment plan was based around this cancer. However, after my amputation, they diagnosed it as Synovial Cell Sarcoma, also a very rare cancer. They assure me that my treatment would have been the same, a fact I guess I won't really know. Due to the rarity of my cancer I have done my best to describe it to people as it was described to me. After reading the small amount of research that is available I feel that I am still confused about exactly what my tumor was made of. One fact remains the same though, it was a very rare form of cancer.
Feeling vulnerable, I asked the nurses and doctors what my life expectancy was. They never gave me that information. Instead they responded with statements such as, "there is not really data out there" or "there aren't enough cases to give you that information." These are not things I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that I was going to make it! One day I asked a family member, who is a nurse, what she thought my life expectancy was. She had been doing a lot of research on my cancer so I felt she would have the answer I was looking for. She responded to my question with the most devastating answer, "it is quite likely you will die." After hearing that I went into a full-blown sob fest. I sat down on the floor with all my photo albums around me. I literally was looking at my life and sobbing uncontrollably. No one was home, and I was not able to reach anyone on the phone except for my dad. My poor dad! I am sure he wished he did not pick-up the phone. He rushed over and found me still sitting on the floor in the middle of my photo albums sobbing. He asked me what was wrong. I told him that I was going to die. He asked me where I got that idea from. I told him who told me. He was mad. He said that she had no business telling me something like that. He told me I was not going to die. Then he grabbed my hands picked me up and told me to stop crying and clean-up that mess. I complied. From that moment on I stopped asking if I was going to die and started praying about living. As you can see, my dad was right, I am still here.
(I want to go on record as saying that I am not upset with that family member. She was a great source of help and knowledge. She was only telling me what she had ascertained from the research she had done. I am very grateful for all that she did for me during my journey.)
(I want to go on record as saying that I am not upset with that family member. She was a great source of help and knowledge. She was only telling me what she had ascertained from the research she had done. I am very grateful for all that she did for me during my journey.)
Disappointment and anger are two feelings I experienced early on. I was in a perfect part of life, I was a stay at home mom with two beautiful children. My daughter was starting Pre-School and I was looking forward to taking her there, meeting other moms, and having play dates. My son was just about to start potty training and I was looking forward to having some one-on-one time with him while my daughter was at school. I was Vice-President of the Woman's Society at church, Chair of Education at church, sang in the church choir, and taught Sunday School. I was at church sometimes six to seven days a week. I had just given up coaching cheerleading, which was a difficult thing to give up because cheerleading was one of my passions. When I found out I had cancer, I was so angry. How could God have done that to me? Wasn't I giving him enough of my time already? It was so unfair, my kids were little and I was just in the place of life I wanted to be in. How could this be happening to me? I harbored these feelings for months. I kept them on the inside longer than I think I showed on the outside.. These thoughts kept me up at night. I was given many books by people trying to help. I had about six "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books, just about every one pertaining to cancer or being sick you could imagine and my sister-in-law's mom gave me her copy of "Healing Through Spiritual Warfare." I put all those books under my bed and pulled the covers up over my head. I got out of bed to go to treatment and was in bed every other moment. Then one night I was up and there was nothing on t.v. so I pulled out "Healing Through Spiritual Warfare" and started to read it. I had been struggling with the fact that I was, in my opinion, giving my life to God and He returned the favor by giving me cancer. Early on in the book there was a sentence that changed my perspective and outlook. It basically said that God does not give one cancer. However, when a person is close to God the Devil works to separate the child from the father. That was something that made sense to me. From that moment on I took charge of the situation. I told the Devil nice try and then pushed him out of my mind. I learned to put my mind over what was weighing me down and I learned to look at things in a positive manner. I still have my days of disappointment but anger over my cancer was gone, gone, gone.
A visit from my grandpa. My mom's dad died in January of 1985. He was such a great man. When I was little he often would stop by unexpectedly for a quick visit; I loved those visits. One afternoon prior to my biopsy, I was taking a nap. I am guessing it was a Saturday or Sunday because my husband was home. While I was napping my grandpa came to me in my dream. It was very real. In that dream he asked me to tell my grandma that he loves her and misses her, and to tell my mom that she raised two wonderful children. Then he said he had to go. I asked him if I was going to be ok. He told me I was. I replied really, really ok? He responded yes, you will be really, really ok. Then he walked off into the sunset. When I woke from my dream I went to tell my husband about it. As I was talking to him I looked out the window and saw the exact same sky that was in my dream. This gave me the chills and a quiet confidence that I would be really, really ok. When I got the results from my biopsy I felt so let down. Then when I had to have my leg amputated I felt let down again. However, here I sit twelve years after my amputation. I guess my grandpa was right after all, I am really, really ok. I find myself longing for another one of his unexpected visits.
The night can be so scary. Since I was sleeping most of the day, I often found myself up in the middle of the night. There is something so eerie about a dark quiet house. There were really only infomercials on and I found that I had way to much time to think about everything that could go wrong. The mind is a powerful tool, it can lift you up or tear you down. I took to reading at night and reading led to praying and meditating. It was in these moments that I restored and built a firm relationship with God. It was in these moments that my worry turned to hope.
There would be no me without my family and friends. To this day, I am awed by how many people dropped everything in their life to help me, my children, and my husband. The sacrifices of time, money, food, love and prayers will never be forgotten. I still get overwhelmed with joy and feel a little bit embarrassed by how much my family received. I know that I would not have made it through those dark days if I didn't have so many people loving me. I was often told I needed to go to a support group to fend off depression. My response was I have the greatest support group, I stand by that response today. Whenever possible, I pay that love and sacrifice forward. I will never, ever be able to repay these people back nor will I ever be able to say thank you enough. I am forever in your debt and forever grateful.
No pumpkin candles! I love to burn candles. Lately I have taken to using those little wax melts, I just love how homey a good scent can make my house feel. Knowing this my husband was thoughtful enough to make sure that my pumpkin candle was burning when I got home from chemo. That was both good and bad. It made me feel good at the time but now I can no longer burn a pumpkin candle in my house.
Italian ice and fruit punch does not a meal make, unless you are going through chemo. So many things are affected by chemo. Two of those things for me were taste and cravings. I was often very nauseous, just the smell of something could make me sick. Pouring milk in the morning for my children made me sick. Chocolate didn't taste good. The smell of popcorn was not good. I found that I could only eat certain things. The list of foods I was able to eat: orange chicken from Chi Tung, cheeseburgers from Jensen's, italian ice from Bartollini's, and Kool-aid fruit punch. Everyone kept trying to get me to eat healthy but I felt as long as I was eating that was success. My advice to anyone going through chemo is eat what you want, at least you are putting food in your body.
When you are feeling overwhelmed and out of control. I find that I think a lot about the future. I am always trying to look for my next adventure, project, or task. When you are sick, especially sick with cancer, the future is so uncertain. I found when I was sick I got very overwhelmed thinking of the future and I felt I had no control. I received great advice from someone and I took it to heart. Give the future planning to God and take one day at a time. I found that only thinking about the things I need to get done that day helped me feel more in control and also helped me to manage my anxiety. I certainly had to plan a bit for the next day and for my appointments and child care. However, that was all something I was in control of and made me feel like I was still a participant in my own life.
Why me? As I worked through the stages of cancer diagnosis, I often asked, why me? Even though I had already made peace with the fact that the Devil was trying to pry me away from my God, thoughts of self-pity drifted into my mind occasionally. (Something I haven't mentioned yet is that I was treated for my cancer in the pediatric oncology/hematology department.. Apparently the cancer I had was a juvenile cancer and since I was twenty-eight I was still able to be treated there.) One day, I was having a particular hard day. I was away from my children and missing them. I was wondering which one of my many sins had placed me in that chair. As I was sitting there wallowing a mom came in with her three month old son. This little three month old had cancer. They actually let me hold him while the mom went to take care of something. Looking at this little life in my arms with his little port protruding from his chest stopped my pity party right in its tracks. There was no way that this little guy was being punished for anything. It is ok to ask why me but only if you ask the second part of that question, why not me? That little life should not have needed to suffer so that I could get a grip but, his message to me was loud and clear. Live life with purpose. Thank you little guy for giving me the perspective I needed.
Needles are soooooo icky! I think by now I must have mentioned that I am not a fan of needles. Having been stuck by so many needles I have learned to tolerate them but I certainly don't enjoy it. As I mentioned above, I was treated in the pediatric oncology/hematology department. Pediatrics is used to dealing with little people. There are little blood pressure cuffs, character band-aids, and small gauge needles. Did you know that not all needles need to be HUGE? I learned that they can take my blood just fine with a small gauge needle. Now when I need to have a blood test I always request a smaller (butterfly) needle. The phlebotomists do not seem to enjoy my request. They tell me it takes longer. My response is usually, "well I am in no hurry!" One of the little medical tips I have picked up along the way, you're welcome!
Two things I had trouble with... Two things I had trouble with; asking for help and accepting a request to pray over me. Asking for help was a difficult thing for me. I was and still am afraid that when I ask someone for help they will say no and then I will be embarrassed that I put them in that spot. So, I have become very independent and that is now a new reason why asking for help is difficult for me. The other thing that I had trouble with was allowing someone to pray over me. Being born and raised United Methodist, we did not really do a lot of that. We are what I like to call, quiet worshipers. One day a man from church told me that his girlfriend wanted to pray over me. I was not sure how to do this so I was a little bit nervous. We met at church one day and she had me lay down on a pew in the sanctuary. She then began to pray over me. She prayed over me from the top of my head all the way down to my toes. She even spoke in tongues. As this prayer process was going on I began to relax a little and was really trying to take in every word she was saying. It was a unique experience and I am very grateful that I allowed myself to accept that gift.
A moment of gratitude. I have made mention of it before but I really feel it is time that I pause for a moment of gratitude. My treatment was five days of chemo and two weeks off. I was treated at RUSH in the city. It was not easy to get down there and my days began early and lasted all day. I forget exactly but I believe I was in that chair from 8:00a.m. - 4:00p.m. My husband took so much time off of work to go to appointments with me. I am so grateful to the company he was working with at the time for their understanding and compassion. However, there was no way that he could go with me every day. So, he would go with me on the first day and friends would take me the other days. I was so very blessed. I literally had two teams of people, team Me and team Kids. I had a group of people who gave up their days to take care of my kids. Usually it was two non-family members that would either take my daughter to Pre-School and pick her up or stay with my son. I am so grateful to them for their sacrifice of time so that my children had consistent people in their life. The other team, my team, took me to chemo and sat there with me all day! It was a lot of time away from their homes and families and I will never be able to repay them for that. This doesn't even begin to cover the many other people that coordinated meals, help with the kids, came to give me medical care, fundraisers, concerts, and the like. I will never take for granted the love that I was shown during that time of my life nor will I ever underestimate how those sacrifices of love took away from their own lives. So, thank you, thank you, a million times thank you. I am forever in your debt.
Be careful, the vows you say may be tested! When we said, for better or worse, back in 1990, I don't think we realized just how those words would be tested. It is hard to imagine when you are young and invincible that one day one or the other of you may be facing something life threatening. When we said those words I was imagining a fight or two, may some rough financial times, but never did I imagine cancer. I don't know many men that would have endured what my husband endured. He was faced with the challenge of trying to balance work, children, and his wife's illness. Along with a houseful of people helping out and taking over things. Additionally, he had to be the spokesperson fielding calls about my health and condition. Rarely did anyone call to see how he was doing or to see if he needed anything. Then there was the night that I passed out and hit my eye on our oak coffee table. It was a horrendous night. He had to be a pillar of strength when I was weak, a voice of reason when I was down, and try to lead a normal life when our life was anything but normal. I will always be grateful for all the support he gave to me and continues to give me. For better or worse, no words have ever been tested more. Thank you for being my everything.
One for my Mom. Even though I just finished an entire entry of gratitude, my mom deserves her own entry. I cannot even begin to imagine what this woman endured learning her daughter had cancer. How do you hear those words and process them all the while maintaining a strong face of determination? This woman, my mom, was a pillar of grace and strength. She had to tolerate my anger, tears, fears, and often less than cherub-like attitude. She took vacation time to be with me, she tried to keep my life normal, even when I made that an incredibly difficult task. When I had my amputation, she slept on a cot in my hospital room and went to work from there everyday. She came back to the hospital after work so that I did not have to be alone. She would come over after work and help to bandage my leg. There was nothing she did not do for me and I am sure that I am leaving so much more out. Not only did she bring me into this world once, she did everything possible to keep me here. I feel bad that I have never shared with her how much her sacrifices and strength helped me through that difficult time. So mom, thank you. I love you more than you will ever know.
Donate blood and platelets. If it were not for those people in the world who selflessly give of their blood and platelets I might not be here today. I received so many blood transfusions I seriously could not keep count. Additionally, on many occasions I received platelets. So many people went to the hospital and gave blood to replace the blood that I was being given. Several people drove all the way to RUSH to donate it so that they could replenish the blood bank at RUSH. I have only given blood once and that was in March of 1998, the year I was diagnosed with cancer. Ever since then I have been afraid to donate blood. I know the two incidents are in no way connected but in my mind they are. Donating blood is something that is on my list of fears I need to overcome. It is important that I overcome this so that I may give back to all that have given to me. Hopefully by putting this out into the universe, I will overcome this fear sooner than later.
The day I started to lose my hair. After my first round of chemo I was not feeling too bad. Remember, I had chemo for five days and then had two weeks off. The first week of chemo left me feeling tired and a little nauseous but not too terrible. However, as the two weeks went on things started to change. I guess this was due to the fact that the chemo builds up in your system as it is "working." By the end of my second week off of treatment I developed something that I thought was strep throat. I was admitted to the hospital. I could barely swallow and definitely could not eat anything. As I came to find out I did not have strep throat, I had mouth sores. I don't remember how many days I was in the hospital but it was the end of August right into Labor Day weekend. (While in the hospital Princess Diana died. I remember being up in the middle of the night and watching that on the news.) The day after that, I started to feel better and decided that I would wash my hair. I had to do this task in the sink. As I was washing my hair it was beginning to come out in chunks. This was so disturbing but it didn't hurt. Once I went home my sister-in-law took me to a wig shop. It was the same one she took her mom to. The people in that store and my sister-in-law made the experience a good one. I came home with my wig and let my hair fall out. I did not shave my head, I just could not bring myself to do it. My wig was very similar to my own hair style and color. I rarely was seen without it, even when at home. I didn't want my family (mostly my kids) to see me without hair. I received so many compliments on my haircut while I was wearing that wig. It was even the conversation starter with someone who has become a dear friend. Something that was my initial worst fear, turned into something that was one of the easiest things that I would endure during my journey with cancer.
Weight loss plan? I have never had a skinny model type body. I don't feel I am built to have that type of body nor do I have the will power to achieve such status. I have struggled with my weight since high school. Beginning treatment I was slightly overweight. This was good because without really knowing it I was about to begin a super fast weight loss program. One thing I think the common person does not know is that the chemo drugs have many possible side-effects, so many it is almost scary. One of the effects I experienced was weight loss. When I began treatment I was wearing a size 16 by the time it ended I was in a size 6 and sometimes a size 4. I enjoyed being in these small sizes and felt that I looked good. I now look back at pictures of me and realize I am not meant to be that small. I went from watching everything that went into my mouth and having guilt over the size of my food portions to needing to eat whenever I could manage to keep it down. It was very difficult to eat because the chemo had changed my taste buds a little bit and on most days I felt nauseous. I relied on foods that tasted good to me sadly, those foods had very little nutritional value. I am very happy to report that once I finished with chemo my taste buds went back to normal and have no problem eating. I am also happy to report that while I have put weight back on I am not in a size 16. I will forever struggle with my weight and I am ok with that, it is a part of life and I really love living!
Being bald wasn't all that bad. My worst fear was losing my hair. Once it fell out and I had my groovy wig, it was not all that bad. It took me a long time to not wear my wig in the house and to allow my children to see me without my wig. But, as they had shown me multiple times they took it in stride. I often would have headaches and nothing seemed to ease them except a hug from my daughter. She would get on the chair behind me and hug my head and give it a sweet kiss. Nothing felt better and my headache pain did ease. One other thing I did enjoy about being bald is that fixing my hair was a snap! I would take a shower, dry off, get dressed, put on my make-up, and put my wig on and just like that I was ready to go! This just goes to show that sometimes the things we fear the most are not as bad as they seem.
And then there was an emergency! My ten year high school reunion was coming up and I was going to be going and seeing all my high school friends. In an effort to get ready for my reunion I went down to our family room to exercise while the kids were playing in their room. Suddenly my daughter came running down to tell me that my son was bleeding. Sure enough he was and it looked like he was going to need stitches. There I stood in crazy clothes with no wig on, and a bleeding child. I called my mom and she came right over. I got dressed and we took him to the emergency room. (This was my first kid emergency room experience.) As it turned out, he needed a couple of stitches and was completely fine. How he actually got the gash in his head that required stitches is still a mystery. However, we lived through our first emergency together. I learned that exercise was dangerous to my children's health and did not attempt to do it again while they were awake.
My favorite holiday. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I love this holiday because you get to spend it with family and eat delicious food and there is no pressure of presents or Easter baskets. I love to host Thanksgiving and have been doing so since the year my daughter was born. The year I was diagnosed was a difficult one. It was clear that I was too weak to cook it myself and clear that I really needed to be in my own home. So, my dear mother came over and cooked it at my house. She was so helpful. I was sleeping in my room knowing that I needed to get up and get the kids dressed. I had in my mind the outfits I wanted them to wear. Laying in bed knowing that my mom was working so hard gave me terrible guilt. I felt useless. When I finally got up to get the kids dressed my mom already had dressed them. They looked lovely but I was terribly upset. I was so upset that she dressed them and didn't ask me what they should wear. She had no idea that - that was the one thing I was going to do. I know I threw some sort of terrible fit and acted like a big child. I remember going back into my room and thinking (and this was the only time I thought this) that I might as well die because no one needed me. Everyone else had stepped in and was doing all the things that I used to do. I felt horrible and useless. I did not hold on to that feeling for very long because, I realized that they were only doing these things to help me and to make my life easier. Her help allowed me to rest and garner strength. Her help allowed me to not have to worry about things getting done. I think that it is important to remember that when we feel alone and useless it is a temporary moment. We need to look to those around us and understand that they are there to help us and to nurture us. I am so very grateful that she was there to help me and that I was able to realize quickly that I was still certainly needed. I am very grateful that I did not give up. "For where your treasure is, there your heart will also be." Matthew 6:21
Let's get a puppy. For the longest time we had wanted a puppy. Now that we were in a house with a fenced yard it seemed like the perfect time. Right about the time I was getting staged for my cancer, my friend found a puppy in a parking lot downtown. He was adorable, she brought him home and offered him to us. We fell in love right away. The day of my staging she watched the kids for us. When we got home from the hospital we would be picking up the kids and the puppy. My husband and I sat all day in the hospital discussing the perfect name. After many excellent names we finally came up with the perfect name, Fahey. We called our friend to let her know we named the puppy and she informed us that we were too late, the kids had already named him, Spike. So, Spike it stayed. He was such a great dog. He was the perfect companion and so friendly. He lived with us for fourteen years and lives in our hearts still. A pet is a great distraction to all the chaos that life sends our way. Our puppy was a great distraction to our children, he gave them something to get excited about and he was a great distraction to me as well. That puppy was meant for us and it was a great idea to adopt him. Thank you Spike for being such an amazing addition to our family.
Our Pastor. Growing up I can remember three pastors. The pastor I remember the most was with our church for at least 16 years before he was transferred to a new church. I was devastated when he was transferred. I had no idea how to even deal with a new pastor. We had an interim pastor while we waited for our new pastor and he was very nice. Once our new pastor was appointed many people were unsure of him. He was from Chile and had a very thick Spanish accent. He came to us with a wife and three children. There was something about him that I immediately liked. (Which made me sad because I felt like I was being untrue to our former pastor.) Our new pastor had such passion and vitality he just seemed to emit the Holy Spirit. He was funny but serious, kind but firm, and had a vision that you could not help but be on board with. He was a gardener and not afraid to roll-up his sleeves to do physical work. He led many mission trips to his home country. His attitude was contagious. We were very lucky as our families became close. We had dinner with them many times and he helped me garden and he helped my husband build a swing set for our children. When I got diagnosed with cancer, they were there for me. He would just show up at my house and pray for me and anoint me. He encouraged me spiritually and listened to me talk about all my fears and concerns. He taught me how to pray about them and to feel the Lord working in my life. He was reassigned before I had my amputation and that made me very sad. Even though our families were close, it is discouraged to have contact with former parishioners, so we lost touch. The new pastor that was assigned to our church had very big shoes to fill and he fell short in many areas. I still to this day miss our Chilean pastor but, I am so very grateful for the time I was able to have with him. He taught me so much about life and living. I carry his lessons are with me to this day.
Relay for Life. Life is great and throughout my life I have had the opportunity to meet many amazing people. One such person is the former principal of the school that my children attended and that I started my teaching career. She just so happened to be my husband's fifth grade teacher too. Right from the beginning we had more than a principal/parent relationship. She became a great friend. While I had finished my chemo/radiation treatments prior to my daughter starting kindergarten, I still had many health issues while my children where in elementary school. She went above and beyond her role to help my children. She even took them home with her one day after school and kept them overnight while I was in the hospital having surgery. An experience they will never forget and I will never be able to repay her for. One other thing that she did was dedicate a luminary in my honor every year at the Relay for Life event at her son's high school. She also invited me every year too. I was not ready to attend the first few invites but one year I was ready. It was one of the most beautiful events I have ever attended. To be around so many other cancer survivors and so many people in one place for a cause was an overwhelming experience. I am not 100% certain that all the kids there really understood how profound what they were doing was but I am so grateful to them and I am so grateful to my friend for not giving up on me and continuing to invite me. It was and experience I will not forget.
The day I met God. Dr. Godellas that is! As luck would have it, in 2000 I discovered a tumor in my pelvis. After seeing my new pediatric oncologist I was referred to a surgeon, Dr. Constantine V. Godellas. He was a handsome, confident doctor who immediately put me at ease. I had a grapefruit size tumor in my pelvis that needed to be removed. This was a pretty serious surgery and I was scared. It was May and in December my husband and I would celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. I remember making my husband promise that if I made it out of surgery he would take me to Hawaii for our anniversary. I didn't specify what anniversary I wanted to go to Hawaii for so fourteen years later I am still waiting! Dr. Godellas is a fantastic surgeon and he has saved my life multiple times. I have a special place in my heart for him and quite literally owe him my life. I will never forget the day I met God and am forever grateful for his skill and compassion. (I call him Dr. God because when his name would come up on caller id it would read "drconstantinegod" on the display.) If you or a loved one needs a surgical oncologist I highly recommend him.
Oops...guess I needed platelets. One December Saturday night, in the middle of the night, I was thirsty. Everyone was sleeping so I got up to get myself a drink. I started to feel faint and thought I could make it to the kitchen to lean on the counter but that was not the case. I fainted and hit my eyebrow on our oak coffee table. This cause me to have the biggest shiner I have ever had in my life! It was so bad that my kids were scared of me. I remember thinking, I just want to be at my parent's house, in my old room, in my old bed. My brother came and picked me up and I spent the day at my parent's house sleeping, in my old room, in my old bed. There was great comfort in that. On Monday I went to the hospital to see my doctor and they told me that my platelets were low and my blood was low. So, I spend the day getting blood and platelets. That shiner took a very long time to heal and I went through Christmas and a wedding with it. Just one of life's little moments with cancer!
Not every moment with cancer was bad. I know that I have mentioned before how blessed I am. Having cancer was an incredibly humbling experience. So many people went out of their way to show me just how loved my family and I were. There were countless and I mean countless acts of kindness that had been shown to me. One in particular stands out right now and that one was a benefit concert put on for me by a dear friend. That night was amazing and I just could not believe how many people showed up for that including several friends from high school that I had not seen in many years. Although the time has passed and I am living a full and completely healthy life right now, moments like that are never far from my thoughts. I know that I fought so hard because I had no other choice, the prayers, love and warmth I felt from so many (including strangers) will never be forgotten!
A room with a view. I was treated at RUSH hospital in Chicago. As much as I did not enjoy being in the hospital there could not have been a better place to be. My hospital rooms offered such incredible views of the city. I have always had a love of our beautiful city and have even thought it would be nice to live there. I guess I can say that I lived in the city, if even for a few days at a time. As I drive into the city I pass by RUSH and think with gratitude how lucky I am to have had such great care.
Let's bring out the big guns. I had tried chemotherapy and radiation therapy (proton) and neither of these things made my tumor shrink. They stopped if from growing but did not make it shrink. I had been told of a different type of radiation treatment that was offered at Fermilab. This radiation is neutron radiation. It was described to me like this, proton radiation that is given at a local facility or hospital is like shooting a bullet at the cancer; while neutron radiation is like shoot a cannon at it. Not everybody with cancer is a candidate for this type of radiation. I had to apply to be part of this program. I remember the day I found out I got accepted I was so excited. It was a long drive but other than the third-degree burns I received from it, it was a painless procedure. Now, It did not shrink my tumor either however, I feel that it was the final medicine I needed to ensure that the cancer cells were definitely dead. It has been added to my list of interesting cancer experiences.
Let's bring out the big guns. I had tried chemotherapy and radiation therapy (proton) and neither of these things made my tumor shrink. They stopped if from growing but did not make it shrink. I had been told of a different type of radiation treatment that was offered at Fermilab. This radiation is neutron radiation. It was described to me like this, proton radiation that is given at a local facility or hospital is like shooting a bullet at the cancer; while neutron radiation is like shoot a cannon at it. Not everybody with cancer is a candidate for this type of radiation. I had to apply to be part of this program. I remember the day I found out I got accepted I was so excited. It was a long drive but other than the third-degree burns I received from it, it was a painless procedure. Now, It did not shrink my tumor either however, I feel that it was the final medicine I needed to ensure that the cancer cells were definitely dead. It has been added to my list of interesting cancer experiences.
Why I hate winter. There is a sudden sadness that comes over me as we head into winter. It is not that I don't appreciate the beauty of the fresh fallen snow or the peace that overcomes the Earth as the snow falls from the sky. Those are things that I can deeply appreciate. What makes me dread winter so much is how much it slows me down. I am not one to move slowly nor am I one to stay inside; these are the reasons I hate winter. Winter requires me to walk with my crutches close to my body (which is very tiring) and to walk cautiously. Walking outside is much easier than walking inside where there are tile floors. They are not my friend, one little drop of water can send me flying. Winter is a constant reminder to me that I am "handicapped" and different. It reminds me that I am human and therefore vulnerable. When I find myself dwelling on those thoughts I try to quickly cycle towards more positive thoughts, ones that remind me I am lucky to be alive and to experience these small setbacks. I try to focus on slowing down and letting life carry me for a few months. I try to overlook the constant reminders of my handicap and take inventory of all the things I am still able to do. While I do not think I will ever learn to love winter, more importantly the snow, I do think that I can still learn to appreciate the fact that I am still here to face these inconveniences.
Being in bed more than out of bed...There was a point during my chemo treatments where I was in bed more than I was out of bed. It is ironic how when we are healthy we wish we could sleep more and when we are sick and should be sleeping we want to be out of bed. I remember being in bed and being so weak that I didn't even have the energy to drink something when I was thirsty. This was a real bummer since in order to keep your strength up you need to eat and drink. If food wasn't made for me or brought to me it meant I probably wasn't going to eat. Which was a real problem since I had such a difficult time asking for people to help me with that task. God was good and saw my needs and put amazing people in my life to help me. People who knew me well enough to know I wouldn't ask for help. As I look back I am so grateful that those people were in my life but I learned that it is okay to ask for help. If you are facing a battle and you find yourself in bed more often than you are out of it and you find yourself to weak to make food or get yourself something to drink, please tell yourself that it is okay to ask for help. It doesn't make you weak it makes you brave.