Posts tagged ‘cancer survivor’

10 Years Chemo-Free

They say that a blog can be therapeutic, and a great way to process raw feelings and emotions. Well, this is one of those posts. At least I gave you a heads up. Sorry, no baby photos or poop jokes today. Maybe next time.

On this cancer journey, several of us have special milestone days each year that take us back to when we were in the midst of our fight. Here are a few of mine:

  • January 23 – the day I was diagnosed, how long I’ve been fighting this bad boy cancer.
  • The two weeks between January 23 – Feb 2 – it’s like this shadow hangs over me these weeks as I remember the journey from being diagnosed, to finding doctors, to finally having my first major surgery.
  • June 9 – my new date I have to go off to consider myself “cancer free.” I’m at 2 years.
  • July 24 – my original “survivor day” that my family and I celebrated on the glorious day I was released from cancer treatments and finished with chemo all together!

I know it’s a lot, it is for me too. But these are my special cancer days that I remember each year. I don’t do big celebrations or even really recognize them all each year  (although my husband typically does, bless his heart) but as each one of these days comes, it’s a time for me to reflect – or as it has been in the past, push away the rush of emotions that come with the reality of this cancer game.

Today is one of the days along my journey that always means something special to me, July 24. I hope I never forget what it was like to walk into my oncologist’s office 10 years ago. I was supposed to have a treatment, one of my last. They drew my blood and saw that I was absolutely too weak to take the next chemo treatment. My white blood counts were way too low. Six months of chemo and a month of radiation had been enough. Instead of heading for the chemo room, I got to go into the physician’s room where he explained that I was done, I didn’t have to finish my remaining two treatments, and that I was released from treatment.

While I walked in there without any strength, I nearly floated out of the office. Finally after several months of living through one of the horrors that comes on this side of heaven, at age 17 nonetheless, I was free. My parents took me to Eskews Fine Jewelry to get a watch – and had it engraved “SURVIVOR” and the date, 7-24-01. I still wear it every year on this day. We went out to dinner at Gojos to celebrate. It was a huge day for me.

Just like the Sunday morning earlier this year on January 23, I had a rush of emotions come over me this morning. It’s funny because during the first years of being in remission, I don’t think I really had it all sink in yet. I would be so excited to reach my cancer mile-markers, and just be pumped to celebrate. I even made a homemade t-shirt and wore it for a few years. I was on cloud nine.

survivordayyear1

My homemade "Survivor" t-shirt I sported for years - in 2002

Maybe it’s because my cancer HAS come back once that I find it hard to joyously celebrate now, or maybe it’s because I’m older, I’m married, I have a kiddo – and the actuality of what I went through has just begun to hit me. But instead of breaking out my old shirt today and sporting the town with it – proudly showing I am a survivor – I had to make myself get out of bed, go through my typical Sunday routine and not break down bawling along the way. God bless my friends and family who showed up with flowers today, and my hubby who splurged on delicious cupcakes. He knows the way to my heart.

Although I hate that I feel like crying rather than celebrating as each one of my “Year 10” mile markers has come, I actually think it’s a good thing. Last year when I went through counseling, I learned that instead of processing my emotions, I’ve developed a pattern to unplug from them and disconnect with how I really feel. I’ve slowly started to “plug back in” throughout the year, and the raw emotions of fear, sadness, grief, loss and more have rushed in as I’ve dealt with the cancer face-to-face.While it’s not been fun, it is nice to actually feel again and get real with what I’ve faced throughout the years.

So, today hits 10 years for me that I’ve been “chemo-free” and my original Survivor Day. And while I’ve got a train of emotions hitting me, I’m so, so grateful for them. Not only am I grateful for the ability to feel the emotions, but for life and how God is using my story even 10 years later. I could have easily not made it 10 years ago. But He chose to heal me so that His glory would be made known through me and my story. Why that’s not been the case for everyone who has faced this disease, I don’t understand – but I have faith that it’s all for a reason, and I will continue to point people to hope as long as I’m still here. As hard as it is to face the fears, side effects and impacts that surviving cancer so young has had – I absolutely feel blessed to be part of the bigger picture and do my part in pointing people upwards to Him.

So on that note, a huge “hurray” that I’ve been off the chemo for 10 years now. A huge thank you to everyone who has prayed for me, supported us and walked with us through this journey over the years. I can only pray that there are many more days full of flowers and cupcakes ahead.

July 24, 2011 at 9:47 pm 8 comments

Fireworks in the Sky

I admittedly have a really crappy memory. It’s actually never really been that great, but I like to use the excuse of “chemo brain” when I really can’t remember things. Who knows if it’s the chemo or not… but that makes since so I’m going with it.

While I struggle recalling events in the past, the six months that I was on cancer treatment 10 years ago remain very vivid. And one night that is particularly clear is the evening I tried to rejoin my life on the 4th of July weekend.

I was at the tail end of my radiation treatments and the hopes of “normal life” were starting to appear. I hadn’t hung out with my friends in months due to my illness. My butt was raw from 30 days of radiation, and I was just plain tired of wearing that stupid, ugly continuous infusion chemo pack everywhere I went. Nicknaming it “Chester” had only helped in the beginning. By the end of those four weeks, I was ready for “Chester” to meet Jesus and get the heck off of me.

I had been invited to my friend Meagan’s house to celebrate the Fourth of July. She lived on a lake within my suburb, and although I was not much of a lake person even back then – not to mention extremely intimidated by the lakeside neighborhoods with their narrow, windy roads and zero parking – I went for it and joined my friends. I had a big group of girlfriends when I was diagnosed, and this was one of the first nights that we were all together since I’d been sick.

We weren’t the drinking kind, nor did we find a lot of fun in rebelling against our parents. So, our high school version of hanging out was pretty low-key. Some had brought fireworks and were starting to shoot them off by the time I arrived. I remember slowly walking down to the water and watching my friends float on rafts and flirt with boys. I carefully dipped my feet into the lake – opting not to swim since lake water wouldn’t quite agree with my immune system. I laughed with my friends. I tried to fit in. I even had a red, white and blue tank-top on to prove it.

There was nothing magical about that night. But for some reason I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember being happy that I could fit into tiny jean shorts. I remember being jealous of my friend’s gorgeous tan and sparkly pink bikini. I remember the sparklers, having fun drawing pictures in the air. I remember trying to fit in with the jokes and flirting, yet not, and while the group hung back to talk and laugh, I went off by myself and gazed at the fireworks above the lake in an “I really feel older than 17” moment.

Life has a funny way of coming in and out, and making you realize that what seemed like a passing moment in time was actually a mile marker in the journey. That night 10 years ago as I watched fireworks above the lake, I cracked open the realization that I was different… and I would never be the same again. My experience with cancer had not only scarred my body and interrupted my calendar. It had changed the dynamics of my friendships and how I would relate to others for the rest of my life.

Surviving cancer doesn’t make one an obvious alien this world, although it too often feels like it. The secret aches from past surgeries and scar tissues, the quiet worries of what will happen next or why that pain just shot through your body, the unspoken questions of how much longer you have or if your kids have your genes – thus is the mindset of a survivor. And while we try to brush it off and fit in most days, it’s often what’s running through our minds when we’re staring off into space… or up at the fireworks in the sky.

When life crisis hits, you don’t always realize all of the areas it will impact until enough time has gone by and then you start to “get it.” That moment on the lake 10 years ago was just a momentary peek into the types of issues I would process in the coming decade. And while the gravity of the situation has come over the years, I’m thankful that it’s been over time. Even more, I’m thankful that despite my moment of seriousness as I slipped away from my friends only to quickly rejoin them that Fourth of July weekend – what really was was going through my head was where I could get another sparkler and how I had managed to fit into my jean shorts that night.

July 4, 2011 at 12:06 am Leave a comment

Bucket Lists

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day, and bucket lists came up. As a cancer survivor, I have a handful of opinions when it comes to certain topics. And while I like to think I’m pretty easy-going, for some reason, these I have a very clear, passionate view on at least four things:  the need for colonoscopy,  cancer crawls, breast cancer awareness month and bucket lists.

I’m not Down on Bucket Lists

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not down on bucket lists. I actually think they’re great… for most people. Especially when the “Bucket List” movie came out and raised awareness about the whole idea. I think it’s great that people start thinking about what they’d like to do in life. Bucket lists stir passions in people. They motivate people to go get all that life has to offer, at least as much as they possibly can. So while I think bucket lists are great.. they’re just not for me.

Why I don’t have a Bucket List

I don’t have a bucket list. I think it’s mainly because the idea that life is short is all too real for me. Maybe it’s unhealthy and out of fear that I won’t create a bucket list. I mean, I don’t want to create a list that I have no way of achieving. I know that’s how it works for everyone (not everyone can always get to everything on their bucket list)… but that possibility is all too real for me. And although it’s a daily process for me to not live out of fear, I think there are some healthy reasons I don’t have a bucket list. I really do try to live each day realizing that it could be my last … or at least as best I can. I try to cram as much as I can into life just because I’m very aware that life is short. And while I don’t have a long list of big things I’d love to do before I die, I do try to take each opportunity that comes to me. I feel blessed that I’ve gotten to do, see and experience a ton of things already, and that as I continue to follow my heart and passions, that will only increase.

So Should you Have a Bucket List?

I’m not the one to say if you should have a bucket list or not. I think they’re great for so many people, even though I don’t have one. I’d say what is important more than a bucket list is an awareness that life is short. We were all put here for a reason and with a purpose, and so why not find that reason and what drives our passion. We’ll all have the opportunity to do things we dream of doing throughout life, so if it takes a bucket list to realize them – then go for it. Or, if you’re like me and refuse to make a list (but still have a few things you’d love to do in your life in the back of your mind) – do that too. Life is short, so let’s make it count.

May 27, 2011 at 3:31 pm Leave a comment

I’m a SAMFund Recipient

Last fall amidst the craziness of announcing we were adopting, and then the winter of our oh-so-fast adoption, I haven’t had a  chance to blog about the SAMFund yet.

The SAMFund

I don’t recall exactly how I learned about the SAMFund, but between my fellow cancer survivor friends and online media, I was made aware of this organization. Their mission is provide grants to young adult cancer survivors who’ve been impacted by cancer. It doesn’t matter what type of cancer you’ve had, the SAMFund can help. They provide grants to young adult cancer survivors to help with medical bills, gym memberships, school, family building and more. I had known about the SAMFund for awhile, and when we began our adoption process, I applied for a family building grant. Our process to adopt was directly impacted by my cancer, and so I felt like I had a shot.

Hearing from the SAMFund

God’s timing is always perfect, and how funny it is. I had completed all of our paperwork to begin our home study, including the worksheet with my credit card information. I folded it up and placed it in an envelope to mail later that day. No joke – before I could take the letter to the mailbox, I got a call from the SAMFund, notifying me that I had received a grant from their foundation. They wanted to award us a grant to pay for our home study.

Thankful for the SAMFund

Receiving a grant from the SAMFund wasn’t only so helpful for our adoption finances, but it meant so much to me personally. In a way, cancer gave back to me that day. It meant the world to be recognized by this organization as someone worthy of their grant funds. The road of cancer is long and hard, and so when its stopped in its tracks for a moment and you’re blessed by it, it’s a chilling yet very amazing experience.

I am so appreciative of the SAMFund. Not just for their financial aid, but for the emotional boost they gave me in the process. I’m excited for them and their new video they just launch to share their SAMFund story and mission with the world.

Check out the new SAMFund video, and spread their cause with me!

April 27, 2011 at 1:17 pm Leave a comment

Cancer Scares

One part of survivorhood I never really prepared for was the cancer scares. Sure, I knew that I would need to keep a healthy lifestyle and make sure I went to routine scans, but for some reason the element of the constant scares had never crossed my mind. That is, until about a month ago.

It’s never fun when your doctor calls to personally to deliver the CT scan results. He was concerned, sent me for a follow-up PET Scan, and about a week-and-a-half of anxiety ridden days and nights, I finally got the news that all was clear once again. Apparently, being operated and radiated on as a 17-year-old can have some residual effects like scaring in the pelvis that looks questionable.

While I’m thankful that in this instance, all was clear, it opened my eyes to the long journey that I, as well as all of my fellow cancer survivors, are on. Especially for those of us who’ve been hit with the disease twice or more; it’s an eye-opening and sobering experience to realize that you’ll be fighting a disease for the rest of your life. When I first realized this after my second diagnosis, I was angry. My anger has subsided these days, but it’s still shocking to me sometimes when I realize the risks associated with just living life. I realized as I waited for my PET scan results to come in, that even if all was clear, this wouldn’t be the last time I’d have a scare like this. Unfortunately, this is a lifelong journey.

As I went about church and life group yesterday; however, I began to see a comforting  parallel between living with Christ, and my life as a cancer survivor. Both require a “wartime” mentality, as we must always stay on guard for the next attack. We mustn’t be surprised by it, but rather, anticipate that the enemy will work to get us down… whether it’s sickness, debt, rough relationships, sinful temptations, etc. We won’t have these “scares” subside until we reach heaven. So until we’re there, we must anticipate them.We must stay in the fight, and remember that we’re at war.

I found encouragement yesterday in remembering that I serve a God that is here to help. Christ didn’t come down to earth to leave us hanging. He sent the Holy Spirit to get us through tough times, give us unity among one another, and bring about a perfect peace that gets us through any trial. While we can’t always change our thoughts or make ourselves feel differently, we can plug into the source who will “guard our minds and our hearts” with only the peace He can bring. Whether it’s a cancer scare, or any other life problem that gets us down, we must keep pressing on and hold the line in this war.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7

April 4, 2011 at 11:40 am Leave a comment

Puck Dropper

While living the cancer survivor life has been no cake walk, I will say that it’s afforded me some of the coolest opportunities.

One of those opportunities came this past fall when I was asked to represent Midwest Gastroenterology and drop the ceremonial puck at the Missouri Mavericks game. With Mike & I being avid Mavericks fans and season ticket holders, this was a no-brainer. I think the best part was watching Mike’s face as he stood with me and watched all of the players skate onto the ice from the locker room.

Thanks, Dr. T for this priceless opportunity! Enjoy some pics…

Puck Dropper

Nice and close

We could even smell their sweat

And they could hear Mike yelling their names

These guys had a blast with the foam fingers

It's me with Dr. T on Halloween night at the Mavericks game!

 

 

December 3, 2010 at 8:30 pm Leave a comment

Reasons #20 & #21 You Never Want Colon Cancer

Today’s two reasons are just cancer-specific. But hopefully they help give a small glimpse into the life of a survivor. No cancer is fun, and colon cancer tops that list (in my opinion.) And while I have learned to live with it and found many blessings that have come from it — it’s still not a disease I would wish upon anyone. As a mid-month message that will be repeated over and over — colon cancer is one of THE MOST preventable, treatable and beatable cancers out there. I’ll be the first in line to coach you through it if it indeed comes your way, but beg you to do whatever you can NOW to not see that day, especially if you’re over 50 and need a colonoscopy, or have a family history. Get your colons checked people!

Reason #20
Survivor’s Guilt

I’ve mentioned this before, but sometimes being a survivor is hard for reasons other than the obvious physical ones. As you watch and hear of others facing the disease and then losing their battles, unfortunate and inevitable guilt often hits. Not that you could have changed your course or theirs, but it’s definitely something to keep working through.

Reason #21
You’ll have the urge to start planning your funeral. (And all of the strange looks that follow when you start making requests.)

Not to be morbid or anything, but I often think about lining things up for my funeral, ya know, just in case. I know that it’s not guaranteed that I will go before anyone around me. But living through a major life-threatening disease (twice now) does open up your eyes to the reality that you won’t live forever. I’ve got a few songs that I’d like to be sung, and an idea of where I’d like proceeds to go. I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing to think of these things, but it does seem a little early for a 26-year-old to start making these plans.

March 21, 2010 at 10:32 pm Leave a comment

My Personal 9/11

Some days you never forget. Just about everyone can tell you where they were during 9/11. I distinctly remember Columbine. And my dad still tells stories of JFK’s shooting. Today is not a day that is remembered by our nation, but it is a day that’s significant for me and my family. It’s one of those days where no matter how many years go by, I will always remember where I was and what happened nine years ago.

My story actually begins at the library. I worked at the public library near my house as a “page” which meant I had the glorified job of arranging books on a cart and then reshelving them. It was a great job with flexible hours, decent pay and amazing coworkers. It was a Tuesday night. I was with my friends (we called ourselves “The A Team”, ) and we were excited this evening because we had the special job of  moving the tables and chairs in the childrens’ book area for a speaker. We loved when speakers came. We’d spend at least 30 minutes on unique arrangements for the chairs and table stacking patterns.  Anything that could take up extra time, we tried.

As much as I was trying to have fun with our furniture arranging on this evening, I wasn’t feeling it. I was expecting a phone call, and my mind couldn’t stay focused. I couldn’t shake a feeling that something was off. As we finished setting up for the program, I looked up to see my mom & dad coming through the doors. I was surprised to see them since I had two hours of work left. Something was strange though. Their faces verified my anxious feelings. Plus, they looked like death. They met me in the childrens’ area and began to deliver the news.

“We got a call from Dr. T’s office today,” my dad said. “Your mass they found was malignant.”

Dad and Mom looked at me with somber faces, pursed their lips, and anticipated my response. As they began to reach in for instant comfort, the reality that I was a little too young for the disease set in as I asked,

“Malignant? What does that mean?”

They got an even sadder look on their faces.

“It means it’s cancer honey,” Mom said. “Your tumor is cancerous.”

As soon as Mom explained that malignant meant cancer, I felt a heaviness that hasn’t ever completely lifted. I’m sure I began asking many questions they couldn’t answer. We made our way toward the front of the library for my coat and stopped by to tell my boss that I’d be gone for a while. She gave me a big hug and told me not to worry about a thing.

The rest of the evening is a blur, except I remember telling my brother, calling Mike who was at SBU, and having Nick come over to pray with my family that evening. I knew nothing about cancer, except that the only man I knew who had it, died.  I knew I should have felt scared, but didn’t fully understand. I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t sure I was upset. I was just numb and confused about what this all meant. At 17, I didn’t have a lot of experience with the disease, nor did I understand its repurcussions. All I knew was that life would be different.

One thing I remember telling Nick that evening was that I was thankful for the opportunity to spice up my testimony. I had always felt I had such a vanilla story of knowing Jesus. I was raised in the church, so my journey was so typical up until then, or so I felt. But this night, when the cancer bomb dropped, I knew my story had changed. While I was unaware of the physical and mental changes, I definitely knew that part of this new diagnosis was spiritual. And my teenage faith automatically put me into the “God’s got a purpose” for this mode that night.

Today I enter my ninth year as a cancer survivor, and I am reminded by my own words back then. No matter what comes – whether it’s a third diagnosis, a complete colon removal, a rough day with olive oil, losing a friend, or just a challenging emotional day, my prayer is that I forever hang on to my own teenage advice and remember God’s got a plan for all of this – and I have to trust that.

2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  James 1:2-4

January 23, 2010 at 9:58 pm 3 comments

Newer Posts

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 69 other subscribers

We're a hit!

  • 76,688 hits