National Cancer Survivors Month

June is National Cancer Survivors month here in the U.S. I celebrated National Cancer Survivors Day (June 1) by walking in Day 2 of the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Chicago. Today, I was looking through some journal entries and emails from my first year, and I thought I’d share two entries with you.

Has your breast cancer experience changed your life?

I was asked this question within the first year after my diagnosis. Here is what I shared. (Edited)

I am told that women who are survivors find that their life does change; some more dramatically than others. My life was forced into change after December 2007 through circumstances (other than the cancer) beyond my control. I chose to embrace these changes, accept what is and rely on God to bring me through it. Part of the journey has been painful but I know that I am right where I am supposed to be right now. I do not believe that God “did this” to me. Nor do I believe that God “let it happen.” Rather, I believe that God knew what was (and is) on my horizon and orchestrated my life so that I could best deal with the challenges. I decided that after March 5, 2008 (my final chemotherapy treatment) I would take care of myself through healthy eating, exercise and reading. I decided not to look for a full time job until after the bar exam results came out so that if I was unsuccessful I would have the summer to study. This was a wise decision.

As some of you know, I was unsuccessful on my first attempt at the bar exam. I missed “passing” by 17 points or 7 multiple choice questions. While this news was initially devastating, once I received my grades in the mail I became quite motivated by how well I had done despite being in a chemo fog. In retrospect I really felt lousy during the exam, but I did what I had set out to do and that was take the exam. Also, as some know, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of that April. However, having a simplified life made reviewing for the bar exam and helping my mother easier.

We started eating organic. Though I have not become obsessed with it; I still eat out in restaurants and enjoy the occasional pizza or Chinese food. I am trying to get back to eating healthy. Too many lunches of grilled cheese and French fries in the cafeteria certainly could not have been good for me. I stopped eating beef and pork for a while, but now enjoy the occasional steak or roast. I try to eat low fat and avoid fried foods. Of course, the pizza and Chinese food is a contradiction. Whoever said I was consistent? I now walk at least one mile three times a week. The first time I took a walk after finishing chemotherapy really hurt. Intellectually I knew that treatment had taken away my strength but somehow I thought I could just jump right back into exercising. My doctors had advised taking it slow by walking twenty minutes three times a week to get started. They sure were right! I find that each walk is a bit easier than the last.

So I’m not really sure how my life changed, if at all, other than trying to embrace a slower pace, focus on one event at a time, and listen to God. I don’t believe my outlook on work, family or faith has changed.

On November 29, 2008

One year ago, on November 29, I had surgery for breast cancer. I celebrate today as my one year anniversary of being cancer free. I know I faced other challenges with chemotherapy and radiation afterwards, but I count those as preventative medicine. I truly believe that I was cancer free as of my surgery. I owe each and every one of my friends and extended family a huge debt of gratitude for your love, prayers and support. I learned that you can get through anything with the love of your friends. I also believe that I received the gift of healing between the time of my diagnosis on November 2, 2007 and my surgery. Even my doctors were amazed at my various test results. I know that came from the faith that each one of you carries.

While the past year was filled with challenges and losses, it was also filled with grace, love and many gifts. I am thankful for so many things: my health, passing the bar exam, and my new kitten to name a few. However, love, hope and grace remain the greatest gifts I received.

And today
 

What I wrote then is true today. The love of family and friends will get you through challenges. God will give you a second chance. And the greatest gifts are love, hope and grace.

 

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Redefining Myself

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer I was in denial, and yet I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. I felt a protection that left me with a sense of calm that nothing was wrong; this was just something that I had to go through. I truly believe I was blessed with healing and health, and I thought that I wanted to share this as my story. But it never happened. As a result of wanting to share my story I started this blog.

Instead of sharing what I thought was my message of healing and hope, I have learned more about breast cancer. The fact is that one size does not fit all. I have learned the reality of my own diagnosis and realize that I am not off base in feeling blessed. And I have said “yes” to situations that I never imagined would come my way.

I have shared how I became involved with the Avon Foundation and the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. This upcoming weekend I will walk in my fourth Walk. It has become a passion and a goal to walk in each city where the Walk is hosted. After this weekend I will have walked in half of them.

This year is especially meaningful for me because the Avon Foundation has committed to funding research projects that are specifically related to metastatic breast cancer. No, I have not been diagnosed with a recurrence or metastatic breast cancer. But my friend Linda is dying. And I have been part of her transportation team. I never imagined I would find myself in this place. The truth is that cancer kills.

Recently I have seen postings by people who offer a false hope. Their message is that God healed them through some miraculous diet and you, too, can be healed. These websites make me angry. It is not that I do not believe in God’s grace and healing touch. I do. But to tell someone that all they have to do is have enough faith, and they can be healed is false and misleading. Part of me wants to call them out as hacks on social media. However, that is not fair. They truly believe in their miracle, and I hope they are not disappointed in 15 to 20 years.

I now know that I do not want to be that person. I want to be realistic. The truth is I am fortunate. I was diagnosed with Stage I triple negative breast cancer, which is almost unheard of. I did not have a recurrence in 36-48 months. I have just passed my six years after treatment date. (My oncologist measures my progress based on when I finished treatment).

Mine is still a story of healing and hope. The hope I now share is the hope of God’s grace.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Unfortunate Side Effects

Metastatic cancer kills. That is reality. That is the final truth. A diagnosis of metastatic disease means the end of life. Death is not a side effect. It is the end game. However, along the way, there are side effects that have nothing to do with chemotherapy or radiation or any of the other treatments for cancer. They are the side effects of living.

Living with metastatic cancer impacts everyone around you. It affects your doctors and nurses. No matter how many times they have watched other patients die, they give themselves to you with kindness and compassion. You can’t fake that kind of care or the gentleness in their voice as they deliver news you don’t want to hear.

It affects your co-workers. You may have made friends at work but now you need to resign or retire because your disease is too much for your job.

It affects your friends. No one wants to watch you die. You should live a long and healthy life so that you can go on doing all the things you love. Some friends will stay by your side and help during these troubled times. Others will send cards or call once in a while. Still others you may never see again, though they will show up at your Memorial Service.

Living will change your family. Those with whom you live will care for you to the best of their ability. Some will remain by your side. Others will choose a different path.

Most of all, living will affect your primary caregivers. Dying in front of their eyes will give them the chance to grieve and say “good-bye” while you are still here. But living, and loving, and letting them love you, that my friend, is the greatest gift of all. And not at all unfortunate.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Chicago 2014

In five weeks I’ll be in Chicago for my fourth Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. The first physical fundraising event I ever participated in was Spin for Hope in 2010. It is an American Cancer Society fundraiser and basically a three hour spin class. A year later I participated in my first Avon Walk in Houston, Texas.

Before 2010 I had never trained for any physical event. I trained for the California Bar Exam (CBX), but never a physical challenge. During bar prep time our professors held bi-weekly web-based chats to help guide and encourage us through exam preparation. One of the analogies that was regularly used is that the CBX is like training for a marathon.

The CBX is the most difficult bar exam in the nation. Not just because the examiners are tough, but also because it is a three day event. Every other bar exam is only two days. In the end, the exam is 18 hours long and we were taught to think of the exam as six, three-hour segments. You can do any three hour exam.

In comparison, the Avon Walk is a marathon and a half. I always commit to a marathon. I know I can walk 13.1 miles each day. Last year I surprised myself and walked 31.4 miles over the two days. I am going to try to do the same or better in Chicago but I won’t get discouraged if I only walk a marathon.

The Avon Walk is a test of endurance. I think of endurance as “slow and steady wins the race.” However, it is more than that. Like the CBX there is both the physical endurance to make it through both days but there is also the mental energy needed to stay focused. Also, there is a learning curve. Having walked before I know what to expect. And as I train I know how to challenge myself.

As I go into the final weeks of training I will focus on my goal and remember why I am walking. I want a world without breast cancer. A world without any cancer. No more deaths and many, many more birthdays.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Colossians

 

 

I went to church on Easter Sunday. I don’t attend church every week, but I probably visit once a month. I usually go with my mother to the church where I grew up. But for Easter we were with my in-laws and went to their home church. The pastor spoke on Colossians 3:1-4. However, while reading the passage my eye caught the two verses further down in the chapter. Verses 23 & 24.

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ. Colossians 3:23-24 ESV

Thursday I was scheduled to take my friend Linda to her weekly appointment. However, she had just received news that the chemotherapy was not working and her doctor pulled her out of the trial. I am heartbroken that the chemotherapy didn’t work. But I was also sad that I would not see her on Thursday. Her daughter encouraged me to reach out, and so after a phone call and a few exchanged text messages, Linda and I made plans to get together on Thursday anyway.

I showed up at her house with coffee, of course. What I found was my friend; a woman willing to face whatever is “next” in this journey. We talked some about what had happened. We talked about her children. She showed me pictures of her grandchildren. And we talked about our faith.

She wondered if she had already fulfilled God’s purpose for her life or if that purpose is yet to come. I think our purpose is right here and now. When I reflect on all of the events in my life and how they brought the two of us together I am truly overwhelmed by God’s grace and love for me. Linda is a blessing in my life. Her faith keeps her strong, and as she tells her daughter Tina, “you just have to stay positive.” Her life is serving God right here. Right now.

I carry her lesson with me. I want to know that I am fulfilling God’s purpose for my life. Right here. Right now.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Disappointment

I was recently disappointed. And I mean big time disappointment. The kind that leaves you with no energy and not wanting to get out of bed in the morning. I had plans to spend the weekend with my mother and had been invited to visit with some friends that I haven’t seen in over 30 years. I was looking forward to both. But it wasn’t meant to be. At least not this time.

I’m not usually like this. I find the positive in everything and truly believe that I am where I’m meant to be when things like this happen. It’s a mindset that I adopt when I’m stuck in traffic. I think of all the stories after 9/11 from people who were supposed to be in those towers or on one of the flights that day but something delayed them or changed their plans. It was not their time.

A few years ago I made plans to get together with a longtime friend who had moved away and was traveling home for a visit with his parents over Christmas. We decided we would meet for lunch the day after Christmas. I had the week off from work and he was “home” for the week. Well, it was the year of the Christmas Blizzard here in New England. And his area had a severe snow and ice storm that closed his airport for four days. He never made it home for Christmas. And while that was disappointing, I wasn’t too sad. I felt as if God (or at least Mother Nature) had given us a big, fat “no” to getting together. Oh well. Weather happens and there will be another time.

This weekend God said “no” and I can’t blame Mother Nature this time. I’m not sure why, and maybe I’ll never know. I like to be philosophical about these things. At times I need, even crave, down time. Time to myself. Time to watch junk television. Time to read. Time to knit. Time away from people. Maybe I just needed to slow down and enjoy the spring weather here at home.

Or maybe it has nothing to do with me. My mother spoke at a women’s group; it was one of the things I was going to attend. She confessed that I probably would have made her nervous. I’m sure her talk was a blessing to all who were there.

And with the spring weather, my friends were probably happy to get out into their gardens. They own the Late Bloomer Farm and Rabbitry. You can read their blog at Late Bloomer Farm & Rabbitry. They also have a Facebook page. Check them out.

So while I’m disappointed I’m going to embrace the here and now. And anticipate that there is another, better time to see my mother and visit with my friends. Besides, the sun is shining and the temperatures are warming. There’s even a hint of spring in my yard.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

The Way We Were

“What’s too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget. So it’s the laughter, we will remember.” – Barbra Streisand, The Way We Were

I received a phone call yesterday from a childhood friend. It has been decades since we’ve spoken. He is my “big brother” from my youth. We spent most of our time talking about the here and now; our lives as they are today. We didn’t reminisce about any “do you remember when” events but we did talk about the past. And he wondered if we only have fond memories of childhood activities because of the passage of time. Why are difficulties and struggles colored by nostalgia? Did time paint them over?

The most traumatic event of my childhood was the death of my friend’s sister when we were in the eighth grade. I learned of her death over the loud speakers at school, though there had been rumors all day long. I will never forget the heart wrenching sobs as I sat in that classroom and heard those words. My classmates tried to console me, and it was even suggested that someone call my parents so they could pick me up from school. I stayed, and took the bus home only to be met by my mother who had taken the day off from work because she knew that her children would need her.

Now I think about how our lives changed. Amy and I became closer friends. To this day she is my “sister” and we can talk for hours today even if we just talked yesterday. It is because of Nancy’s death that Amy took me to her brother’s Youth Group. And it was there that I met Seth and his younger brother. My world was changed forever. Many future life events are the result of meeting those two brothers and having them in my life during High School.

Today I look back on our time together; the fun we had as a group. I think about today and how blessed I am to have them in my life again. As Seth wrote me a few years back, some connections are meant to last. Yes, those memories are all warm and fuzzy, and colored by time. But that’s ok because we were given the gift of a forever friendship.

So it’s the laughter we will remember.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.