Update

I have finally gotten a few minutes to update everyone.

First of all, thank you again for all the texts, emails, cards, FB messages/posts, and prayers.  Once again, we are overwhelmed by our friends and know we are loved.

As my last post said, it is cancer.  It is in my hip, in my lung, and in my chest.  It isn't good.

Stage 4 and metastasized were said.  I don't know how I didn't faint.  Thankfully my nurse came in and explained what those words truly mean.  Stage 4 is scary!!!  She explained that any time cancer returns, it is stage 4.  Still scary, but not as much.  Metastasized is scary too.  But fundamentally it just means it has spread.  Information we already knew without those scary words.

The plan is to do 6 months of chemo EVERY week.  Reassess after 6 months and go from there.

My oncologist mentioned being on chemo the rest of my life.  This just isn't good.

That was where we were at on Tuesday.  I have cried.  I have screamed.  I have cursed.  I have cried some more.  These last few days have been a whirlwind.

On Wednesday morning, my port was put back in.  Might be just as mad about that.

I have asked friends to do research.  But only if this is your thing!  Don't be sending me random research.  :-) We are collecting information.  I need concrete information.  Concrete success stories.  Other options.

I am going to throw out some of our (mine and my family/friends) thoughts.  Because maybe it will trigger something with someone.  And that is what we need.  To think outside the box.

Chemo didn't work.  You can argue and say, "But you were cancer free."  Well, this was my first PET scan.  How do we know the cancer wasn't there before?  I asked my oncologist about 6 months after I started treatment when my scan would be.  She asked, "What scan?"  The one that everyone gets and posts on Facebook saying their scan was clean.  Another year cancer free!  She said that the day we took out the tumor and it hadn't spread was the day I was deemed cancer free.  There was no indication it would return so no scans.  BUT HOW DO WE KNOW THE CHEMO WORKED??

We will more than likely do some chemo, but honestly feel that we need to be doing more.  We need to think outside of the box.  We need doctors who think outside of the box.

We are in the process of hopefully (cross your fingers) getting into see someone at MD Anderson.  It is time to be as aggressive as this damn cancer.  It is time to do more than just assume what my doctor says is the way to go or the ONLY way to go.

My sister came on Wednesday with hope.  (A post to follow soon).  I am on a strict diet.  It is like Paleo on steroids.  I will write more on that later, but I know making a meal is what comes to mind when you get news like this.  Please don't send any food at this point.  We are researching the best things to put in my body right now.

We were not given good news on Tuesday.  But today is Sunday and I have some hope.  It is small, but it is there.  This is not good, but I am hoping one day VERY SOON, it will be good.

Subscribe To Our Mailing List

When I created this blog, I had no idea what I was doing.  I wanted to be cool and have a place where people can follow me and receive my posts via email.  I was so proud of myself when I thought I had figured it.  But I don't think I did it correctly.  Over on the right it says, "Subscribe to our mailing list".  What mailing list and who is this "we" it is talking about??

It does what I want it to do which means it sends anyone who filled it out an email whenever I post.  But I think it confuses people because I somehow picked the wrong thing to embed.  (I think that is the right term.  But haven't learned much since starting this blog!) :-)

Why am I bringing this up?  I have a friend who didn't know what was going on.  In my fog, I assumed if I posted and put it on Facebook, I could fill everyone in quickly.  Poor thing.  She showed up at my house and had no idea what was going on.  I was crying.  People were offering their help and advice.  And she just said, "I have no idea what is going on, but I am here for you."  

So....if you want to follow this new journey that I am on, please sign up to for "our mailing list".  That just means that when I post, you will get that post in an email.  I have had so many friends and family ask to be updated.  This is going to be the easiest and quickest way to do that.  Plus, it helps me to write it down and document everything.

Come along for the ride.  It should be interesting....

6 Long Days

I have run through all the scenerios of my worst fear - cancer coming back.  I have been in bed not able to sleep and I have run them all.  Finding another lump.  Having bone pain that lasts too long.  Feeling sick.  All of them.  I thought I would be ready..

I went to a new gynecologist yesterday.  After going over my medical history and proclaiming "what a couple years you had" and "glad you are doing so well", she started my exam.  She listened to my heart.  Heart sounds great.  She listen to my lungs.  Even with bronchitis, lungs sound good.  Then she put her hands around my neck and said, "Oh, no."  What??  "You have a swollen lymph node.  This isn't good."  And the world starts spinning.  She mentioned cancer and I am not sure if I truly heard her next words.  She finished the exam and told me to meet her in her office.  She was going to call my oncologist and get me in ASAP.  Here come the tears....

I meet her in the office and she is on hold.  I ask her, "If I didn't have cancer in my history, what would you be thinking?"  She looked me right in the eye and said cancer.  I think I am going to be sick.

It is 11:00.  She gets me in at 3:00.  I go home and start cleaning.  Because that is what I do.  I have to be able to control something because my day has suddenly spun out of control.  I pick up the boys and try not to squeeze them because that will just make me cry even more.  We eat lunch.  We play.  We laugh.  I forget for seconds at a time. My mother in law comes at 2:30.

I have not told Jason at this point.  We had a honest conversation about the scares that are part of my life now.  He said he didn't want to know until he had to know.  Even when a scare turns out to be nothing, he still doesn't want to know.  I was clinging onto the fact that I have bronchitis and that is why my lymph node is swollen.  My oncologist was going to tell me that is what is was and we would move on.

Unfortunately, that did not happen.  I wish I could write down our conversation, but I remember bits and pieces.  It was not from bronchitis.  It is a mass.  It is hard.  She didn't like it.  What are the chances it is cancer?  50/50, but it is hard.  I told her I was grasping for some reassurance and said, "I am sorry.  I am not going to sugar coat this for you."  The small bit of hope I had vanishes.  And here comes the ugly cry.  My favorite nurse comes and I thought, "Here comes my reassurance."  She hugged me and said she was sorry.

I check out and get scheduled for a biopsy and a PET scan.  I go outside and call Jason.  That wasn't fun.  He meets me at the house and we sit in the driveway.  I am crying and he is shaking.  This sucks.

We go in the house and try to act normal for the boys.  Thankfully, they are a wonderful distraction.  My sister walked through the door unannounced, but very much appreciated. We did baths and dinner and played.  We had a fun night considering.  We tried to sleep, but were up a lot.

I had my biopsy today at 1:30.  I had an ultrasound first.  The doctor said it is not a lymph node.  It is a mass.  Ugh.  Good news is that it isn't attached to anything.  I asked him if he thought it was cancer.  Still grasping for something to hold onto here.  He said he couldn't tell.  And I think he was being honest.  He said whether it is cancer or not, it has to come out.  That is scheduled for Dec. 5.

We did the biopsy (that hurt!) and now we wait.  I have my PET scan on Monday at 2:00.  I have an appointment on Tuesday with my oncologist at 8:45 am to go over all the results and come up with a plan.

I am not being all gloom and doom, but this scare is different.  You could feel the fear in that room yesterday.  With all my other scares, it was, "We are just being cautious.  We are almost positive it is nothing."  I haven't gotten that this time.  Nothing even close.

I asked my oncologist what is the worst case scenerio?  It is breast cancer.  We take it out.  We do radiation.  We put you on another pill.  I think that is what she said.  But it being breast cancer is the best worst case scenerio, right?  Because it could be another type of cancer.  And that REALLY scares me.

I am not afraid/worried about treatment.  Chemo sucks, but I can do it.  Losing my hair sucks, but if I am alive, I will take it.  What does worry me is having cancer twice.  That is never good.  I don't really have a gut feeling, but I am assuming it is cancer at this point.  The waiting stinks.  I just want to know what it is and what the plan is so we can start.

I have told a few friends and appreciate their words (and swearing).  I am just as mad.  They are already asking what they can do.  Just pray.  I am always torn between praying that this is not cancer and, (if it is), praying that we can get all the cancer out and move on.  The wonderful nurse today said to only say positive things.  Don't give the negative a place to grow.  I like that a lot, but I feel like praying that it is not cancer is not realistic.

But oh what a day Tuesday will be if we find out it isn't....

Isn't It Ironic?

12 weeks of training.  12 weeks of getting up early to get my miles in before the boys woke up.  12 weeks of getting excited about running this race.  And I wasn’t able to run it…

I ran my first half marathon in 2007.  I ran it for two reasons.  The younger brother of one of my student’s was diagnosed with leukemia when he was 1.  His mother started training with Team in Training and I thought that was awesome.  Then one of my best friends was killed in a car accident.  I was having a hard time with that loss and someone suggested I do something for closure.  So I signed up to run a half marathon. 

Enjoying a bagel after a long run down by the river.

Running really wasn’t my thing.  I had tried several times to “become” a runner, but it wasn’t happening.  Now I had two reasons to push myself.  When I didn’t think I could run anymore, I thought about that sweet little boy going through treatments.  I could do this for him.  I thought about my friend, who was training for a marathon when he was killed, who didn’t cross the finish line.  These two helped me push past my comfort zone.  The training was tough on my knees and I said that it was going to be my last marathon.  

Then came cancer.  And I decided I needed to run another one and dubbed it my f^%$ cancer race.  I had two friends who said they were going to train with me and cross that finish line with me.  I often cried thinking about these amazing girls and what they were doing for me.  

So we started training.  I felt surprisingly strong.  In 2007, I had to put frozen pees on my knees after my long runs.  I walked like an old woman for a couple days after those long runs.  This time?  Not one pack of frozen pees was needed.  This time when I ran, I thought about the fact that I was alive and healthy.  I thought about how horrible I felt going through chemo and how unbelievably tired I was all the time.  I thought about missing out on my baby’s tiny moments because I was in the bathroom for hours.  It felt so good to be outside and pushing my body.  A body that was finally feeling normal and STRONG.  

Same river 7 years later!

The week before the race, I was so excited.  And emotional.  I pictured crossing that finish line with my girlfriends.  I pictured my family waiting for me.  I pictured how I would feel finishing this race.  I pictured myself bawling like a baby.  The only part that I was right about were the tears.  I cried on Saturday, but because I was too sick to run the race.

Wednesday before the race I had an annoying cough.  But it was just a cough.  I could handle running with a cough.  Then Thursday came and I had the aches and chills and swimmy head.  Friday we drove to Savannah and I was eating vitamin C like it was candy.  That night, I put my timing chip on my shoe, laid out my race clothes, and went to bed praying I would feel better.  I woke up several times with chills and coughing fits.  At one point, I woke up and my eye was sealed shut.  I think that is when I realized I was not going to run.

The first marathon was for my two friends and to say that I could do it.  This one was because I wasn’t sick anymore and was feeling so alive.  Pretty ironic that I was too sick to run it.  But I think that is why I didn’t feel horribly guilty for not running.  I felt guilty, but knew I had made the right decision.  Even if I had somehow managed to run 13.1 miles, it wouldn’t have been pretty.  It would have been awful.  And that wasn’t the point of me doing this race.  I wanted to run it because I felt so good.  

I have signed up for another half on Dec. 14.  It is here in Atlanta.  I am going to rest and hit the ground running (pun intended) on Sunday.  

                                                                 http://jeffgalloway131.com

4 weeks of training.  4 weeks of getting up at 5 to get my miles in before the boys wake up.  4 weeks of getting excited about running this race.  But this time, I am going to run it. 

My wonderful, supportive friends.