tommorrow

This week has been surreal.  Today has been breathtaking, I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring.

Tomorrow is chemotherapy treatment number 17 - it is my last one.  After tomorrow my body will be able to begin to heal itself, after tomorrow I will be on my way to being me again.  I still have two surgeries in my near future, and with them the fear of my hives returning (although I am sad to say that they have never actually fully subsided, they are currently controllable).

I read somewhere that it takes six months per treatment for the poison to rid itself from your body.  I have no idea if that is true or not, but it gives me peace.  I know that is a strange thing to say, but for as excited as I am to no longer have to receive chemotherapy treatments, I am also super fearful of no longer having the super strong medicine/poison running through my veins.  In a large part that is why I never truly feared my treatments. I thought of them as a beautiful magical potion, working its way through my body to kill all that nasty cancer.

This week has brought tears to my eyes so many times.

My beautiful and dear friend, Beth Ann, has been instrumental throughout my treatments.  She and her husband have provided us with so much nourishment, both spiritual and literal.  Beth was responsible for the lovely pictures that were taken when David and I renewed our vows at our ten year anniversary.  She brought us countless dinners when I was truly at my very sickest.  How she knew, intuitively, that I was so sick I will never ever know, but I am so thankful.  She is also the one who helped me find my dress for tomorrow.  Not only did she find it, she arranged for Puritan Cleaners to alter and dry clean it for me- for free.

I have to take a minute to truly thank the staff of Puritan Cleaners.  Marco and Gerry have been unbelievably kind.  If you have ever met me outside of work, you know that I am almost always accompanied by my two sidekicks.  I fretted over taking them to my dress fittings.  Gerry was amazing with them, she gave them snacks and indulged them in conversation as I dressed and undressed, even as she pinned and planned the alterations.  I am forever grateful for her kindness.  Marco was also so kind, and wanted to hear my whole story. I love to spread the importance of early detection whenever I can.  If you ever need a dry cleaner or alterations, you need to look no further than Puritan Cleaners.  I am officially their biggest fan.

The kids have been in Vacation Bible School all week.  This is extremely significant, because the week that I was diagnosed with breast cancer they were also in vacation bible school.  God has a way of weaving himself so intricately in my life when I need him the very most.

This week my babies have been learning about God Sightings. God Sightings are when you see God in your every day life.  Each student in VBS has the opportunity to give his or her example and write it on a lantern to go in the Bat Cave at church.  Before they are hung, the leader reads all of them aloud during the closing ceremony.

She saved Tommy's for last.  It made her cry, it made me cry, I saw several adults and children with their eyes brimming with tears. Tommy wrote, "My God Sighting is that my mommy has her last chemotherapy treatment tomorrow."  A simply written, poignant statement from my eight year old son.

It was a spectacular moment.  Seconds later my dear, sweet friend, Renee handed me a shirt for Tommy.  It says, "Tuff Guys Wear Pink."  Renee is also the creator of my beautiful new "Princess Warrior, Fight Like a Mommy"  lanyards.

In true Tommy fashion he slipped it over his head the second he received it. You may remember that he also did that with the "Bald Chicks Rock Shirt" that Mr. Roger gave him when this journey began.

Tomorrow will be beautiful, and emotional, and terrifying.  I want to thank all of you who have supported me, all of you who have prayed for me and my family, all of you who have provided us with nourishment, all of you who have made me laugh - or made my babies or my husband laugh. All of you who have supported us financially during this year.  Thank you for loving me, for holding my hand both figuratively or literally.  Thank you for the hugs, now that I can give them I cannot possibly ever get enough.  Thank you for the messages, letters, texts, phone calls, smiles, and well wishes.  Thank you for telling me that sharing my story has influenced or inspired you.

On my way to my first chemotherapy treatment.

If you have the time to come by and spend some time with me tomorrow please know how much that means to me.  If you cannot be there I totally understand.  It is my hope that we will brighten the day of others going through the ugliness of cancer.  Please remember that there will be patients there in all stages of treatment.  I want to do everything we can to respect and celebrate them while I am ending this stage of my treatment.

Tomorrow is not the end of the journey.  I still have at least two surgeries, and a lifetime of fretting. It is however, the end of a chapter.  I will no longer smell of poison for a few days every three weeks.

I am eternally grateful for all of you for your love, support, hopeful thoughts, and prayers.

This morning my Time-hop reminded me of a truly beautiful time last year.  At this point last year,  I knew that something was going on.  My lump was still present, I had pressed on it so many times that it was sore, and slightly swollen. I hadn't spoken a word about it to anyone except David, but the fear of what it could be gripped me every minute of the day.  I had an appointment scheduled for the following week to see if my fears amounted to anything and I was determined to make every single second of summer count.

We had the most magical day with two of my best friends, Autumn and MC.  I will never ever forget that day.  The warmth of the sun, the adorable animals, and fantastic company.  It was then that I knew that no matter what, with the love and support of my friends and family I would be ok.  In the weeks and months following my diagnosis I leaned heavily on these two remarkable friends.  They provided me safety and comfort in a way that is hard to put words to.  There is a magic to a friendship that does not need words to convey a feeling or a need.



It always takes my breath away when I get a message or a text that shows that you know what I am feeling, without me having ever having expressed it.  You all give me so much strength, and I truly love you for it.


#itisstillmyfairytale
#fightlikeamommy

a year

A year ago today it was cold and rainy.  It was the kind of cold that doesn't often happen in July and causes you to be chilled to the bone.

Our little family spent the day at the Hanover Tomato Festival where Elayna was competing in the Tiny Miss Tomato Pageant.  She was wearing a beautiful blue gown.  I carried her most of the day due to the torrential rainstorm that passed through after the pageant.  Although we were soaked, we had a good day.  After stopping at a farmer's market on Pole Green Road, we came home and took showers to warm up.

I was so uncomfortable.  My breast and underarm area were so sore.  Elayna and I got in the shower together to warm up.  As she was rinsing off I started rubbing my underarm to ease my discomfort, that is when I felt it - a lump.  I remember my panic, and then my immediate dismissal.  I convinced myself that it was nothing.  I was obviously over reacting.  I got Elayna toweled off and dressed and then I did a full breast exam.  I recall my hands trembling when I realized that the lump was still there.  It was not a figment of my imagination.

I pulled my computer into my lap and began Googling, everything I found said not to worry. I read article after article that said if it you are under 40 it is probably nothing, if you find it yourself it is probably nothing, if it hurts it is probably nothing.  After googling for hours I decided to give it a few days to see if the lump changed at all.  By that point I had poked it so many times that I figured I had probably made whatever it was swell, and it was undeniably sore and red from the prodding.

The next morning I woke up before the kids and scrolled through my Facebook feed.  I again read the story of a lovely young mother who had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. I spent a good part of the morning reading and re-reading her story.

By the middle of the week I was a basket case, alternating between convincing myself that I was fine and realizing that the lump was still there and I had to do something. I remember vividly having David feel it.  He had just come home from work, before he even got all the way through the door I told him that I had felt a lump and was sure it was nothing, but wanted him to check.  We both smiled.  I am a total hypochondriac and worry incessantly.  I think we both anticipated that he wouldn't feel it, or would be able to tell that it was a bug bite, or something- anything but a lump.

I will never ever forget the look on his face when he felt the lump.  It confirmed all the terror that I had built up over the preceding few days. The lump was there, it was real.  With worry in his eyes he told me he thought I needed to call the doctor.

I remember kicking myself for waiting until he got home, I knew the doctor's office would not be open until morning.  I remember being completely terrified, but so relieved that I had finally shared my fear with him.

The next month is going to be filled with milestones, with anniversaries of dates that changed my life forever.  I hope that you will indulge me as I reminisce about the summer of 2015.  The summer that my little girl's beauty pageant saved my life.



#fightlikeamommy