My Name is Chicken Little and I Am Here To Get Fried

As always, the morning started off way too early, but knowing it was my last morning, I bounded (okay, maybe not...) out of bed to get ready for radiation.  Mother in law showed up and crawled back into bed.  I looked at her with jealously.  I grabbed my cookies and thank you cards, camera, radiation card, and keys and jumped in the car.  When I got to the office, Glenda was waiting for me.  This was a surprise and when I walked to the dressing room to get changed, the tears were already starting.  My wonderful techs called me back and they were excited for me.  Which only caused me to cry some more.  I got on the table for the last time.  A minute later we were done and it all seemed so surreal.  2 pictures were taken.  

                                                                What do you think?

                                                             2 of my awesome techs!

And I was done.  I was crying some more as I walked down the hallway to see my doctor.  I will go see her in 2 more weeks to check on my skin, but then I won't be back.

Taking off the stickers that covered my markers was so cathartic.  For the past 60 days, I wasn't able to forget that I had cancer because my markers reminded me every time I saw them.  My hair is finally coming back, my energy is coming back, I am starting to exercise, etc.  When I first got diagnosed, it was all consuming.  Thoughts of tumors and treatments and dying and fear.  Then I would go an hour and marvel that I hadn't thought about it.  Then came the hair loss and it was hard to forget.  My hair starting coming back in and I could forget as long as I wasn't near a mirror.  Then radiation at 6:30 and marks all over my chest to remind me once again.  Now I will only have my Herceptin treatments every 3 weeks until September to remind me.  I am almost there!

I got dressed and took the elevator back up and there was sweet Glenda with pretty roses and an even more beautiful smile for me.  Jason had balloons from my sisters and cards.  Darn it - more tears.  We asked Glenda to video me ringing the bell.

All I have left is Herceptin.  I go tomorrow morning at 8 and every 3 weeks until September.  Then the port comes out.  I do have to take a pill for five years and am hoping that goes well.  Knowing my luck, more side effects, but will take them happily knowing I am alive to feel them.

On the way home, the song I put in the background of my video was playing.  How appropro.  Through all this, I have felt Him and know that because of Him, I am going to be okay.  Now onto sleeping in - well, at least until 8!

Blog-hogging

Okay.  Now it is my turn.  I only hope that I can express myself as well as my sister Dawn does.  Is this called blog-hogging?
Yes, Dawn is right.  I decided to do a bodybuilding show, but what I didn't know is that Dawn also decided to do a show with me.  Two weeks after my trainer picked a show, we realized that the date was wrong on the Internet.  We thought it was April 20.  It is April 13, which starts Dawn's "training."  Her and Jason, after some much-needed time together, decided they would take a vacation.  Well, when the show got changed, so did their vacation.  When I called to tell Dawn, she just laughed -- I mean laughed -- and said, "No worries.  We'll figure it out."  What that meant was they changed their vacation plans to just an overnight stay so that they can be here for my show.  So the training continued.... There is so much that goes into doing a show besides just training and cardio and eating right, etc.  Well, Dawn has just about taken over all of those extras, so that I can concentrate on what i need to do.  She's even become a mixologist and made my song for me.  She's downloaded my application, her boys have paid for my entrance fees, she has come to the gym to support me, arranged and paid for my makeup and hair to be done, sent out emails and arranged the tickets, encouraged me when I need it, planned my baby sister's shower around my show, and she said she'd even do my cardio 2x a day if she could :)  She has really helped me with the nervousness and stress by really understanding what I'm going through and "getting it."
Now, let's not forget that this is all on top of kicking cancer's ass, raising two beautiful, happy, adorable children, taking care of her home and husband, working, educating herself on better eating and a healthy future, doing her situps and pushups every night, planning birthday parties -- WHEW!  I'm tired just thinking about it. 
When Dawn was first diagnosed, as her big sister, I just didn't know what to do.  What do I say?  How do I act?  How can I make it all better?  Can I go beat someone up for her and teach them a lesson about messing with my little sister?  Please.... just tell me what I should do. 
Of course, no one has the answers, so I was just there.  There if she needed a babysitter, there if she needed some rest, there if she needed to vent, there if she needed to break down (which to this day, I have not seen), just there to walk this path with her and let her know how much I love her and am there for her.
As it turns out, that didn't seem to last long.  Somehow she got ahead of me and has been holding my hand through the last 6 mos.  How did that happen?  Well, that is Dawn.  Through all of this, she is still putting others first.  She is the true definition of
selflessness and grace.  I don't need to see what Webster's Dictionary says because I already know they have it wrong if her picture is not there. For those of us who are lucky enough to have Dawn in our lives, you already know what I'm talking about.  She has follow-through.  We all "think" about doing those special things for people we love.  SHE ACTUALLY DOES IT.  And that is what sets her apart, among a ton of other things.  She is the type of person we should all strive to be -- in so many ways.
They say you can't pick your family.  I sure as hell lucked out there.  Who could ask for anything more in a sister/friend/supporter?
And I could go on, but I think I've blog-hogged enough for now.
WE LOVE YOU, DAWN, MORE THAN YOU'LL EVER KNOW!!!
P.S.  Tomorrow is Dawn's last day of radiation!!  She will be ringing a bell at the hospital tomorrow approximately around 7:30 a.m.  I know we all can't be with her physically, but, Dawn, just know when you walk down that short hall, we all are there cheering for you!!  YOU DID IT, GIRL!!!!!

Brave

I have been told that I am brave.  Brave to go through breast cancer while pregnant.  Brave to suffer through chemo and radiation with a baby and toddler.  According to Webster, the definition of brave is having or showing courage.  The definition of courage is mental strength to persevere and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.  The definition I like is to do something even though you are scared shitless.  Whatever definition you like I feel it is doing something you have a choice to do.  I didn't have a choice.  Okay, I could have said no to treatment, but I don't know of many people who would have chosen that in my situation.  When talking about being brave an imagine comes to mind.  A young child on the high dive.  Knees shaking.  Arms wrapped around their little, wet body.  Their eyes wide and staring at the water below.  Their fear is visible.  And yet, they jump.  They don't turn around and go down the ladder to solid ground.  They choose to jump even though they are scared.  That is courage.

I am not saying that what I have been through and what I have done is not courageous.  I can pat myself on the back because it has been hard, but I have done it.  I just don't feel that I deserve that much praise.  Millions of woman have gone through this and I am not that much different. I will take credit for going through most of it with a smile.  But I really didn't have a choice.

My sister, Lisa, has had a goal.  She wants to enter a body building show.  She has talked about it for years.  3 years ago, she started training.  She stopped drinking.  She stopped eating sweets.  She stopped being able to eat at most restaurants.  Which means she stopped having girl time.  She started really working out.  She educated herself on the human body and how exercise and food can change how it operates and looks.  

And for awhile, I began to wonder if she was ever going to get on that stage.  I mean - 3 years of this crazy way of life and no show in sight.  Who does that?  That changed about 8 months ago.  She found a new trainer and all of a sudden there was a show in the future.  I thought she was crazy with her food and workouts before, but now it was just nuts.  

She is entering a show on April 13.  As we get closer and closer, her schedule is getting crazier and crazier.  She is working out twice a day with a trainer.  She is doing cardio twice a day.  Even with all this working out, she has had to cut out one of her meals.  She is cranky and tired and stressed and nervous.  Oh my goodness, she is nervous.  The thought of standing up in front of an audience in a skimpy bodybuilding suit is causing her knees to shake.  The fear is evident in her voice and eyes.  She said she can't even think about it without wanting to puke.  Then on top of that, she has to move to the music as she poses.  We have called her Elaine because of that episode of Friends.  The girl cannot dance.  

As we get closer to April 13, I can hear it in her voice.  This sista is skerred.  But she could back out.  No one would blame her.  We would understand.  It is only going to get harder from here until April 13.  Most of us of couldn't persevere with what she has had to do so far let alone what she is about to do leading up to this competition. Most of us would have turned around and climbed down the ladder until we hit solid ground.  But she is going to do it.  She is going to jump despite her shaky knees.  That is brave.  That is courage.  That is my big sister and I am very proud of her.

Pictures

I've always loved pictures.  I love taking them, I love being in them, I love looking at them, I just love pictures.  Pictures capture so many emotions and elicit smiles, laughter, tears, and hope. But there was a time when I didn't like pictures.  There was a time in my life when I didn't like what I saw in the mirror.

I have been made fun of a lot in my life.  I was teased for being tall and skinny.  I was teased for my crooked teeth and, when I got braces, I got teased about the braces on those crooked teeth.  I was once told by a guy, "You are so pretty, if only you had boobs."  Females are funny, aren't we?  I have been given tons of compliments - before and after that comment - yet that one statement resonated in my head.  I would get dressed up and look at myself in the mirror and not feel pretty because I didn't fill out my dress.

Then something happened in my 30s.  I relaxed and actually started liking what I saw.  When I looked in the mirror, I wasn't quick to see the imperfections.  I know I am not what society considers beautiful, but I am not what I used to think - ugly.  (I could write a whole post on girls and low self esteem, but will store that in my "Posts For Later" file.)  I liked my breasts.  They were proportional to my body.  And I really appreciated them when I started running!  I no longer thought about getting some of "those store bought breasticles".

It was an intentional effort.  I forced myself to see the good things and ignore the bad.  When with friends, we would have to say what we liked about ourselves.  Basically, I decided to be happy.  Sounds simple and easy.  At first it is not so easy, but when you are not paying attention, it becomes easy.  I chose and I did.

Then came cancer and surgeries and chemo and radiation.  And that wonderful self esteem I finally had was slowly slipping away.  I am not sure when it started to leave, I just know that when I would be waiting for the shower to warm up, I would get a glimpse of myself in the mirror and those old feelings started creeping back.

But, and this is a big but (and I cannot lie), when I wasn't seeing myself in the mirror, I felt strong and beautiful.  Remember, I am annoyingly happy.  I walk around without a hat most of the time.  Apparently my self confidence is still there.  But lately, when I see my scars and markers and a right breast that doesn't match the left one, I want to cry.

I needed to remedy this.  I had a wonderful life to live and didn't want this to weigh me down.  I decided to work on choosing to be happy again.  I asked Jason to take some pictures of me.  Tasteful pictures of me that show my imperfections.  Have you seen the pictures of actresses who looked beautiful after cancer?  I wanted one of those.  Yes, I know they have makeup artists and lighting and airbrushing.  But I wanted to see a picture of me looking pretty despite the imperfections.

Something was also telling me that I needed to document this time in my life.  So Jason took some pictures.  It was pretty funny.  I tried to put my hands in strategic places.  I thought I looked at the camera in a way that showed beauty and toughness at the same time.  All that the pictures portrayed was a goofy-ass girl trying to look like something she wasn't.

Cut to stage left and in comes Gina.  I met Gina when she came to take newborn pictures of Jack.  She was patient when Jack was not cooperating.  We bonded over trying to get Jack to sleep long enough to pose him.  There was a lot of me breast feeding until he fell asleep and then slowly trying to remove said breast so she can get a shot.  When she left, I didn't think she got any shots.  When she sent me the pictures, I cried.  She is an amazing photographer (and person).

Before I could chicken out, I ask her to take some pictures.  As I told her, "Inside I feel beautiful, but at times, I don't feel that way on the outside."  I want my outside to match my inside. Her response?  She was speechless and honored that I asked her.  Within five minutes of agreeing on a time, I get the email from her that always gets me excited - Your pictures are live!  Charlie's 5 month pictures were ready.  I was not prepared for the link.  Gina blogged about me and I couldn't even finish reading it because I was crying so hard.  Please take a moment to check it out. http://www.redcoatmedia.com/2013/03/a-family-story-atlanta-family-photography/.  I knew she would do for me exactly what I needed.

The pictures are for my eyes only.  They are to remind me that I am beautiful and I am strong in case I forget.

Well, that is what I thought.  During our shoot today, Gina showed me one of the pictures we took and I started crying.  She captured exactly what I was having a hard time articulating.  So maybe, just maybe, I will share one with you.  I cannot wait to get that email saying my pictures are live.  I hope they give me what I have been missing - self confidence in this new body.  Self confidence that I am still me.  That I am still me and maybe just a little bit better.

Please, please do not send me comments that you think I am beautiful.  That will mean that I did not articulate myself correctly.  Many friends suggested I blog when I was first diagnosed.  It didn't feel right then.  Now when thoughts (good and bad) are in my head,  it helps to write them down.  I feel better when I press publish.   These thoughts of insecurity have been running around in my head and when I press publish today, I hope I will be able to let some of them go.  That is my intent.

Ring the Bell!

5 more days!  5 more days of getting up at the crack of dawn.  5 more days of waiting for my car to warm up and laughing when it finally does - as I pull into the parking garage.  5 more days of watching my skin get more orange.  5 more days of an itchy, red rash that gets worse every day.  5 more days of having to take a shower with the warm water hitting my back so my Sharpie marks and stickers don't come off.  5 more days!

March 20th at 7:15, this girl will get her last dose of radiation.  Starting tomorrow, we will do what they call a BOOST.  The last 28 treatments were on 2 cm below and 2 cm above my breast and into my armpit.  The BOOST will concentrate right where they found the cancer - under my breast.  I have a 3 inch scar where they took it out and that is where my new marks are and where the radiation will make its home.  I am sure my skin is not going to like its new residents, but it is only for a short time.  Kind of like renters.  After 5 days, those renters are going to be kicked out, thank you very much.  Too bad I can't collect rent....

Outside the hospital is a beautiful little garden.  There are chairs and tables and flowers everywhere.  In one of the flower beds, there is a bell.  When a patient finishes radiation, they ring the bell to signify the end of their radiation journey.

I cannot wait to ring that bell.  There is a short walk from the elevator to this garden - a short hallway.  I am going to picture all of you lined up cheering for me.  In my head, I will slap each of your hands as I walk to that bell.  I am going to feel like a rockstar for 5 minutes.  I may wake everyone up in Marietta as I ring that bell, but everyone should know that I am done.  I am done and I am still me because of everyone's support and prayers.  Yes, when I ring that bell, it will be because I am done with this part of my treatment.  But I will also ring that bell as a thank to everyone for walking with me.  Maybe I can get the church to ring their bell too.  Hmmmm....

Crack of Dawn

I have had a lot of friends ask me questions about radiation.  I guess I didn't explain it well.

Even though I had a lumpectomy and it was determined that the cancer had not spread, cancer cells are tricky little devils.  Unless they have multiplied, they can be too small to be detected.  Radiation will destroy these cells and, therefore, prevent them from growing.

I have not asked where they come up with the number, but I am getting 33 days of radiation.  33 days minus weekends.  My first day was Feb. 4 and my last one will be March 20.  This is what happens at the crack of dawn at my house (pun intended):

-alarm goes off at 6:20
-hit snooze
-9 minutes later it goes off again
-groan, hit snooze
-9 minutes later it goes off again
-turn off alarm and groan again LOUDER (because Jason should be awake too, right? I need sympathy from someone at this ugly hour)
-go to the bathroom, splash water on my face, take my vitamins, and brush my teeth
-go to my closet and put on something warm (because it is freezing out!) grab socks (to be put on once I get downstairs - see previous post) and grab a hat
-unplug phone and head downstairs
-let dogs out, warm up car
-feed dogs, eat a yogurt, put license, credit card, and radiation card in back pocket
-put on socks and shoes and head on out
-drive to Cancer Center
-park in garage, hide phone in glove compartment, grab lotion, and head to building
-take elevator down to basement level (is this because of the radiation??? Haven't asked.)
-scan radiation card, go to dressing rooms, undress from waist up, put on gown
-sit and wait to be called
-walk to back, get asked, "Name and birthday, please."  "What are we treating?" (One day I said my right testicle.  I thought it was funny...)
-lie on the table, arms above my head, gown down to my waist, techs adjust me so everything lines up (I have 4 stickers that are covering Sharpie Xs and, of course, my 3 tattoos that they use to line me up with the machine.  This is to make sure the radiation hits the same spot every time.)
-techs leave and for 2 minutes (I timed it) the machine rotates and shoots radiation at me
-techs come back and help me up
-walk back to dressing room, put lotion on breast and under arm, get dressed, take elevator back up
-say something cute to the parking attendant and drive home
-walk back in the door at 7:50

The main side effects are blistering and fatigue.  I have not had any blistering - knock on wood - and have joked that I don't know how I could be any more tired.  Well.........I was wrong!  I am beyond tired.  I am beyond "stayed up too late studying for exams" tired.  Beyond "just had a baby and haven't slept in months" tired.  Beyond "just had a baby and am going through chemo" tired.  I am not even going to try to come up with some cute way to say what it is like.  I am just tired. All. The. Time.

My skin has also started to discolor.  It looks like a tan, but more of an orangey, bad color tan.  It makes me think if that episode of Seinfeld where Kramer's apartment was being lit up from the neon sign from a fried chicken place.  I am also having some pain in the armpit area.  This is normal.

So, I am bald with some black fuzz.  I have scars from a lumpectomy.  I have scars from them taking out lymph nodes.  My skin is orange.  My armpit hurts.  I am tired.  My taste buds still aren't 100%. And I cannot stop smiling.

I drove home from my first radiation treatment and was listening to The Fish.  "I Need a Miracle" by Third Day was playing.  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTjimzpyE4k) It got me thinking....

There are some who get a diagnosis that won't have a happy ending.  I can see them praying to God and bartering.  "Take my hair, take my breasts, have food taste bad, etc, etc.  Just let me live."

When I first got my diagnosis, one of my first thoughts that caused my breath to catch in my throat was not seeing my boys grow up.  It still scares me.  But today, all signs point to me seeing that happen.  So things have been put into perspective for me.  I may not look that great when you see me, but I am going to be around for a long time to hopefully make you forget that.  When you see my scars, see someone who fought like hell to be around for her boys (Jason included).  When you see the wrinkles around my eyes, know it is because for a year, I took everything they could throw at me to make sure cancer stayed away and it wore me out.

But soon I won't be tired and I will enjoy the life God helped save.  Soon this will be behind me and when my alarm goes off at 6:20, it will be for something fun.