Looking For Inspiration

I've decided to design a breast cancer awareness t-shirt. It's somewhat of a daunting task as there are some really great ones already out there.

These are just a few of the hundreds of awesome shirts out there. My design will incorporate the ribbon that Patrick painted for me. It's my signature picture for the blog. It will most likely be black with pink lettering so that while it will be "In the Pink", guys will still be comfortable wearing it.  My good friend Cara who is very talented at everything from designing shirts to photography, suggested adding a quote.

Here are few quotes I've found:

Once you choose hope, anything's possible.  ~Christopher Reeve
Cancer is a word, not a sentence.  ~John Diamond
Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow.  ~Dan Rather
 When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.  ~Franklin D. Roosevelt


What do you think? Do you have any quotes that would be good?

Acknolwedging The Angels In Your Life

Crazy Sexy Cancer Tip #45: Take A Moment And Acknowledge The Co-Survivors In Your Life!

Cancer doesn't limit itself to hurting the person who is diagnosed with it. It can be devastating to those around us, especially those who love us. They are fighting the battle right along with us.

Carr puts it this way "Co-survivors are the Crazy Sexy Cancer Angels, the wonderful family, best friends, and even pets who stick by your side and care for you through thick and then." (Carr, K. (2007). Crazy sexy cancer tips. Connecticut: Morris Publishing Group, LLC.)

I would add co-workers as well. I've been truly blessed with a wonderfully large and supportive network of angels looking out for me. Prayers have been said for me all over the country. People have opened up to tell me about their experiences, delicious meals have been brought to the house, willing ears and shoulders have been ready whenever I needed them. I've been allowed to be cranky and pitiful whenever I needed to be. Not one time since I got the phone call in November have I been in this alone. I am truly blessed.

I want to take just a moment to thank my Cancer Battle Buddies.

My wonderful husband, Tony, tops the list. He has been my biggest supporter from the very beginning. He has even embraced my new love of pink. He's put up with  my mood swings when any normal person would have told me to get over myself.

My son Patrick, has been my Battle Buddy for more than just the fight against cancer. He was my Battle Buddy for my husband's last deployment and he was one of my biggest supporters during my weight loss program. He never asked me if I lost weight on my weigh-ins - he always asked how much? He's been a real trooper during the cancer battle as well. He runs errands for me, helps me take care of the hedgehog and doesn't let a morning go by without making sure I get my morning hug. He plans to walk with me in the Avon Walk for the Cure and the Susan G. Komen Walks for the Cure in Denver and Colorado Springs. He even hung out with me while I was recuperating from the first surgery. Not too many 13 year-olds would give up their entire Saturday to hang out with Mom.

Then there are my parents by choice. Clark and Sue have seen me through more dramas/traumas than I can count. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have in my corner. The parents who gave me life were not able to be there for me, but these two have been my parents and best friends all rolled up together.

I have also been truly blessed with with wonderful friends both far and near (Rhonda, Paula, Michelle, Joyce, Jim, Laurel, Marken, Christy - the gang at Peak - to name just a few) and Casi, who is the little sister I always wanted and my wonderful family from Academy Endeavour and Chinook Trail. 

And I have also been blessed and comforted by two true angels who are no longer with us.  I know this is going to sound nuts, but I do believe that God gives us what we need - if we just open ourselves up to receive it.  When I had the first biopsy, I was feeling very sorry for myself. (It was that needle thing again.) Tony was in the waiting room. He couldn't be in the room with me. And I was feeling alone. It was then that I thought of both my Granny and Tony's mom, Patty.  I could hear Patty telling me that I was strong enough to handle this and anything else that comes along. And I could almost feel Granny's cool hand on my forehead, just like all the times she did that when I was little and not feeling well.  These were two of the strongest women I've ever known. If they thought I could handle it then I knew I could. Were their spirits in the room with me? I don't know. I'd like to think so, but I do know they were in my heart just when I needed them. 

So, the point of all this rambling this morning is that I know I'm blessed because I don't have to fight this fight alone.  I know this can be tough for my friends and family and not just me.  I know that with everyone that I have on my team, kicking cancer will be a breeze. I pray that everyone who must fight such a battle will be as blessed as I am.

Sometimes Getting Hysterical Can Be A Good Thing.

First, I apologize for missing yesterday. I had planned to get up early and blog before the surgery.  It didn't happen. It seems I can't think straight without a cup of coffee. And after the surgery, I was so drugged I just slept the afternoon away - first time in months I've actually had some decent sleep. Too bad it was only yesterday afternoon and didn't follow through to the night. But that's another story.  The surgery went well. I'm just a little sore and fighting a sore throat from the breathing tube.

I even survived the IV. In fact there a funny story about the IV. It's no secret that I'm terrified of needles and the more I try to psyche myself up for anything involving needles, I usually end up psyching myself OUT. I usually build it up to the point that I'm just one big ball of nerves before the nurse even mentions the word IV. Yesterday, I said a quick little prayer that for once the IV wouldn't hurt.  God's answer was rather hilarious - literally. First my sweet husband offered to put the IV in for me - after all he's battle field trained to do that sort of thing. I asked him if he wanted to stay married. Seriously, I love him too much to let him come near me with a needle, as I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted to explain the broken nose that was likely to have resulted from such an attempt.

The first nurse that came in took one look at my veins and went to get warm blankets.  After letting my arm sit under the warm blanket for a while she checked my veins again and went for more warm blankets and another nurse.  This nurse (and I'm kicking myself for not getting her name) did the best job of anyone I've ever known when it comes to putting in an IV.  The first nurse and Tony stood by the bed doing their best to distract me while the second nurse searched for a good spot on my arm for the IV.  And here is where God decided we all needed a little levity. When the nurse started running her fingers up my arm to find the vein, I got such a case of the giggles.  I was giggling so hysterically that my feet were kicking. And the more I giggled the funnier I thought it was and so I giggled even more. I barely felt her poke me with the lidocaine or even when she placed the IV.  Tony couldn't believe what he was seeing.  I couldn't believe it either. I'm thankful to God for answering this prayer in a funny way and I think I should send that nurse some chocolate. Maybe I'll paint her a mug, too. 

And though I can't remember her name at the moment, I did remember to thank her for making it the least painful experience I've ever had with a needle. I'm sure this will be a story Tony will tell more than once. :)

Walk for the Cure

Before being diagnosed with breast cancer I was in the process of making the transition from Mrs. Army wife to Mrs. Retired Army Wife. After almost 19 years as an Army Wife helping and supporting soldiers and their families, I found myself faced with the need to redefine myself.  I'm not sure who I'll be when I'm done with the process, but victim will not be one of my descriptive words.  

I've always felt that part of God's design for me was for me to help others. I'm a care giver. It's part of my nature to want to do things for others.  Since I would no longer be fundraising and volunteering for Family Readiness Groups (FRGs) I had decided to look for other volunteer opportunities.  I've discovered that I truly enjoy walking, so I had decided in 2011 I would be participating in as many "Walk For . . ." walks as I could find.  This would have the added benefit of helping me to get in shape for hiking up Pikes Peak in August.

Though I plan to walk for other worthy causes (Alzheimer's and Autism for example), after the diagnoses I decided I wanted to concentrate on events supporting cancer research.  

In Colorado there are three events that I know of: 

Avon Walk for Breast Cancer June 25-26.

Komen Race for the Cure - Denver

Komen Race for the Cure - Colorado Springs - September 2011

I'd like to participate in all three of these. My radiation treatments will have been completed long before June. I should be back in walking shape.  What I'm worried about is the fundraising expected for these events.  Fundraising is essential.  After all it takes money to conduct research and funds are also needed to provide care for patients in financial need.  

My fear is that I won't be able to live up to the challenge.  The Avon Walk requires walkers to raise a minimum of $1,800. The other two races don't have such high requirements. I've done tons of fundraising for FRG events. I've done more bake sales and hot dog sales than I can remember. 

 Recently, I spent an entire day at a local book store dressed as a pig to raise funds for books for the library.  

I've put together and sold cookbooks. I've made blankets and raffled them off. I helped put together a craft fair.  Out of 19 years of experience at this sort of thing, I've only one event that made close to $1,800 - that was the craft fair. And you will notice that all of these fundraising events were ones where people were buying something, not just donating.  Asking people for money - for sponsorships - is somewhat out of my comfort zone.  I don't like to put people on the spot.  But then again, no one every promised life would be easy.  If something is important enough (and this is to me) then you have to be willing to sweat a little. Maybe if I start now, I can find 180 people willing to donate $10. Or maybe I can bake 1800 batches of cookies. Or maybe there is a way I can use my photography to raise funds. I'm sure God didn't me bless me with camera skills just so I could scrapbook.

Fundraising is not the only way to support cancer patients.  There are many ways to help. Check back frequently as I use my super librarian skills to pull together a list.  In the mean time - something as simple as wearing a pink ribbon is a good way to show your support. 

All Those Thoughts and Feelings Have To Go Somewhere

Crazy Sexy Cancer Tip #41 is "Journaling is Self-Therapy on The Cheap."

I'm no stranger to journaling (when I was a kid we called it keeping a diary).  When my sons were born, I started a book of letters to them. I regret that after a few years I didn't keep it up, but after my youngest was born, I think I suffered from an undiagnosed case of post partum depression. When my letters to the boys became maudlin, I stopped.  Over the years I've kept a journal off and on. I even had a big red journal I kept during the last deployment - all that anger/fear/frustration had to go somewhere and better on the pages of book I could always burn - than bottled up inside me or spewed all over my friends and family. (Though, I do have several battle buddies who would have and have stood near with a bucket to help clean up the mess. - Rhonda, Paula, Kristel, Sue, just name a few.)

As I said journaling is something I'm very familiar with - it's the frustrated writer wannabe in me.  (Who knows, there just might be a gem of a story in some of those pages).  So one of the first things I did after being told I had cancer was to look for a pretty pink journal. I've always loved pink and at this point in my life it seems to be my signature color.  I bought it to write down questions for the doctor (though I never seem to have it handy in the wee hours of the night when those questions pop up) and to let out those feelings and fears that I want to acknowledge, but don't want to share with anyone.  Exposing myself on this blog is a big step for me - one that I hope will help me as well as others - but there are some things I'm still not ready to share.


The journal does not take the place of talking with a good therapist (an idea I'm still toying around with), but it is certainly better than ignoring what's going on in my head.


If you are new to journaling, Carr offers some tips to get you started.

"1. Using two hundred words or less, paint a self portrait with words.
2.  What are your top five favorite things? What are your top five least favorite things? (Some of these sound like weekly blog memes.)
3. Write about someone who has inspired you. (I've got at least four people I could fill numerous pages about.)
4. Describe your happiest childhood memories.
5. Write a letter to yourself now and one from yourself ten years from now.  Describe all the cool things that have happened in your life.
6. Write a letter you'll never send." Carr, K. (2007). Crazy sexy cancer tips. Connecticut: Morris Publishing Group, LLC.




This is a picture of my current journal.

If you are creative, you can always make your own journal. I've been thinking of doing that. Here's some pics of a couple of journals I made for two young cousins. (No they don't have cancer, I just wanted to make them something personal.)

You are only limited by your own imagination.  My friend and fellow blogger, Jenbug also talks about journaling on her blog today: Jenbug's Story She is the only person I know who has more journals going than I do. (And yes, I do keep a book journal. I'm a librarian and a total book geek, so of course I have book journals dating back for the last several years.)

Finding the Right Fit

As you know, I'm reading Kris Carr's Crazy Sexy Cancer Tips. One of her many tips is about finding the right medical team, getting second opinions and not just settling for whatever doctor shows up.

I didn't seek a second opinion. I liked my surgeon and his team from the beginning. I felt comfortable with them and for me that's a big thing.

Right up there with needles one of my biggest phobias is doctors in general. After 15 years of Army medical care, where I've been laughed at, ignored and treated like one in a large of herd of cattle or just experienced substandard care, I have to force myself to go to make appointments. (My oldest son broke his arm when he was  around 9.  The wonderful Army emergency room x-rayed his elbow. So perhaps you can understand my reluctance when it comes to anything army and medical.)

However, when the Army sent us to Ft. Carson four years ago, we opted to live on the north side of Colorado Springs. We wanted our boys to go to school in D20.  The added benefit was that Tricare (Army health insurance) assigned the boys and I to the Air Force Academy for our healthcare.  What a difference! For the first time since college, a doctor took my migraines seriously and prescribed something other than 800 mg of Motrin.  Everyone was friendly and pleasant.  Of course, I didn't seem the same primary care provider twice until sometime within the last year - it seems that every time they assigned me someone, they got deployed.   Still, I went from being a file among many to being a person.

One of the handful of things that crossed my mind after the diagnosis was "Thank God, I'm getting my treatment from the Academy and not the Army post in Missouri!"  Seriously, I do have a great medical team (even if the surgeon did scare the bejeebers out of me when he cautioned that the medical oncologist might recommend chemo.)  The surgeon took time to make sure my husband and I both understand the diagnosis and the possible treatments. He let us decide the route we wanted to go and then made sure our questions are answered (and as for the scare about the chemo - remember I was the dingy librarian that didn't use all of her resources to find out more about that one. I really have myself to blame on that one.) One thing that I've not done and as I read Carr's book I've added something else to my to do list - keep a note pad handy to right down the questions I can never think of when I'm sitting in front of the doctor.  My doctor is great about answering questions - provided I could think of and remember them any time besides two in morning.

The surgeon talked to us, not at us or around us. His nurse is fabulous at cutting through Tricare red tape.  The nurses in the mammography clinic have been wonderful as well.  In the beginning, I wanted my husband's Aunt Jacquie to be here - she works in a mammography clinic in another state. It would have been nice to have her to hold my hand through all this, but still, the ladies in clinic at the Academy are wonderful.  This has been the scariest event of my life (ok being pregnant and having children was pretty scary, too) and I've been fortunate so far to have a medical team that has worked to make it as less traumatic as possible. God put us in the right place to deal with this.

My point in all this rambling is that you have to feel comfortable with your medical team. You have to trust them.  And if you don't  - you should jump up and demand better.  Maybe that means getting a second, third  or even fourth opinion.  If  you are willing to shop around to find the right pair of shoes or the computer that can do all the things you want it to do - shouldn't you do the same for your medical care?  If your doctor is not comfortable with you asking questions or wanting a second opinion, that should raise a red flag.  This isn't a small boo-boo.  This is your life.  You are going to be spending a lot of time with this team, it's important that it be the right fit.

Why Me? What Did I Do Wrong?

     From the little I've read so far, at some point almost every one diagnosed with cancer asks the question(s)  "Why Me? What Did I Do Wrong? Am  I Not a Good Person?"  

    For me, once the shock wore off the first thing I thought was "OMG, Granny was right!"  When I was a teen I began my weight struggles (no surprise when you live with a woman who makes even the most boring of meals taste fabulous) and so I took some over the counter diet pills.  When Granny found out, she was livid. She scolded me and told me that I was going to get breast cancer.  I was a  teen and didn't take her seriously - I thought it was one of her goofy old wives' tales. (I'm ashamed to admit that though I loved her more than anyone, I was a teen and I often didn't take seriously what she said - even when she was right on track.)  And no I don't believe diet pills I took 30 years ago gave me cancer today, but it did cross my mind after the diagnoses.  (I later found out that she told my younger cousin that he shouldn't hit his sister because it would give her breast cancer.  For a woman plagued with high cholesterol and hear disease Granny seemed very worried about breast cancer.  I always thought God had granted her a little bit of the "sight.") 

     And intellectually, I know that I didn't get cancer because I'm a bad person. (I'm not as good a person as I'd like to be and there was that thing that happened when I didn't get on the high road as fast I would have liked, but there are plenty of evil people much worse than I am walking around in perfect health. And besides I'm kind to small animals and small children.)  My BCN wants me to meet with the genetic specialist at the cancer center, so even though there is no known history of it in my family, maybe I did have a genetic pre-disposition for breast cancer. I was estranged from my mother and my half sister. I do know that my mother passed away about two years ago, but have no idea of what.

Or maybe, it's just like the oncologist said, my case is a fluke.

    In the cold light of morning, strengthened by a good cup of coffee, I don't think it matters how I got it, because I don't believe I have the kind of cancer that knowing how or why I got it will make a bit of difference in my cure. I wasn't exposed to any toxic chemicals. It's not lung, skin or liver cancer - the kinds that know what caused it could have a big impact on the cure and making sure it doesn't reoccur.  What matters is how I fight it.  - So says the educated somewhat intellectual librarian.  But sometimes, in the dark of the night, the frightened little girl still asks why and wonders if she had done some things differently, if she'd been a nicer person, would it have made a difference?

Today's tip is for friends and family of cancer patients.  When your loved one asks the questions I just mentioned, don't immediately dismiss their feelings. It's one thing to know you are not being punished - that it's not your fault -  but it's normal to have those feelings. So assure them that they were not struck by cancer because  they snarled at the person who took the parking space they wanted (yes I'm being a little irreverent and exaggerating a great deal), but validate their feelings by recognizing it's normal to have those feelings.  And if nothing else, just lend an ear when those fears surface.