Relay for Life

The t-shirts say: Celebrate. Remember. Fight Back. John and I participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life, North Whidbey this past weekend. We were honored to be part of the experience. The Relay begins with a "Survivor" lap. It was amazing to be "in" a sea of purple shirts. Directly ahead of me was a man with a little boy on his shoulders, both were wearing survivor shirts. I was constantly wondering what each person's story was. They are all so different, and yet they all have cancer in common. After the survivor lap, the Relay starts in earnest. There were 84 teams. The idea is to have a team member walking (or running) on the track all the time, from about 6:00 on Friday evening, to 3:30 on Sabbath afternoon. When night comes, we don't stop, because cancer doesn't stop. Booths, representing the teams, line both the inside and outside of the track. They often have food or fun things for sale to add to the donations. Many people are cheering the walkers on.

another check-up

The picture is of John and me at Keystone with SCUBA instructor Bob after John's check-out dives. They thought he should get the prize for most persistent, since it was 3 years ago that he started his first class. A ruptured eardrum prevented him from finishing. Then he tried again, but wasn't able to finish because of work. Before he could reschedule I was diagnosed, so it got put on hold for another year. But he is now a certified open water diver. Yea!

I attend a support group, and this month 3 of us had just had check-ups the previous week. The emotions it brings up can be quite overwhelming. I had been having some issues with my neck, so ended up having chest x-ray, C-spine and neck CT. Everything looked fine. So another 4 months.

Someone asked me if I think about it (cancer) every day. It's kind of hard not to, especially with the visual of the scars. And while I know I haven't gone a day without thinking about it, it doesn't consume my time or attention like it used to. There are times when emotionally you have to bring it out and deal with it (like around check-up times). Then you put it away , hoping it will be a long time before you have to pull it out again.

John and I went to Monterey Bay Academy for alumni weekend (John's 30th. I know, it's hard to believe!). During church, a drama called "Stepping Into the Ring", written by Nicole Johnson was presented. I had not ever heard of it, and had no idea it was about breast cancer. It is a very intense presentation. And with my own diagnosis and treatment being so recent, much of the dialog was hitting me very hard, as hard as the punches that were being portrayed on stage. When it concluded, I was sitting there totally dazed. It was then that John returned. He had slipped out to use the restroom, and had missed the whole thing.

I had another "first". Cindy trimmed my hair. She shaped it up a bit, being very careful not to take very much off. I get compliments on it often, which is very nice. But as I told John today, I'm looking forward to having a pony-tail again!'

Next weekend John and I will be participating in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life here in Oak Harbor. I'm not sure quite what to expect. It should prove to be an interesting 24 hours.

This post is actually being "posted" May 31, at around 11:30 pm.

Time flies...life in pictures

A lot has happened since I last blogged, and I haven't had much time for DEEP THOUGHTS, or pretty much thoughts of any kind, so this one will be more informational. We took a ski vacation to Silver Star in Vernon, BC, for my mom's 70th birthday. She skied all three days and did great! After we got back, we helped Ryan move back to Walla Walla where he is teaching a couple classes in engineering. Very cool! We picked up Cindy's dog Rambo to watch for a couple weeks, and the first morning he treed our cat, Shadow. Just had to throw that picture in.

On Thursday (Apr 3) I had what should be my last surgery for reconstruction. All went well and I was home by late afternoon. I am again wrapped Victor/Victoria-ish and am looking forward to unwrapping on Sunday.

Today I am celebrating my 6 month anniversary from the end of chemo. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday I was chemo sick, and other times it seems like a lifetime ago. Of course my hair (or lack of it) is a pretty major reminder that it wasn't that long ago! Except for recovering from surgery again, I am feeling well. I think it's about time. I have plants that need planting, (if it would ever stop raining; our ground is so saturated that a pair of mallards has taken up residence in a puddle on our grass and in the pond. Seriously.) and many other things we've had to put off doing for way too long. I am soaking in the renewing spirit of spring, physically, as well as emotionally and spiritually.

Another first

I had another "first" the other day. I was outside doing yard work and actually felt the wind blowing thru my hair. It was awesome! I haven't worn a wig or hat in awhile and it's nice not having to mess with them! But it's still a little intimidating. I try not to think about it. In January my nephew Matt saw me and said "I see your hair is growing in...it makes you look like a boy" and just kept right on going. Nothing like a kid to keep you humble!

My fingernails are getting very long and they really need to be cut, but emotionally it's very hard to do after so many months of having hardly any nails at all. I recently lost most of both of my big toenails. Not sure why they are so far behind the fingernails. Takes longer for the chemo to get to them? Who knows. I'm just hoping they'll grow in before sandal season!

Cancer Sucks!

This shirt says it all!

The river

The following is an analogy that I feel is worth sharing. I am quoting from a breast cancer survivors blog. It will give you a glimpse into the thoughts of most, if not all, cancer survivors.

"Someone likened having cancer to getting in a raft on a river. Once you are on the river you can never get off. Sometimes the river has rapids, and even waterfalls. Some people get knocked out of their raft, not able to make it back in their boat. Some people ride through turbulent waters, their boats rock but do not capsize. So far, this is my story. And what lies ahead on my river? I pray, like every other survivor, that ahead is nothing but smooth slow quiet waters with only the boulders of check-ups...to paddle around. Maybe there is white-water ahead. And maybe the doctors and I will both be experienced enough to make it through just fine. I will have help from those in the water with me. I will have support from those still on dry land. I am never allowed to get off the river completely. So I will make it an adventure!"

So Cal

These are pictures from trips to see Lindsey and Jason.