Kicking cancer's ass - day 1145

Dear Hubby,

Fifteen years ago today, we stood at the courthouse and said "I do".  There wasn't a big crowd or white dress or cake to cut.  There was no first dance or a honeymoon.  None of that matters.  We have proven that the marriage is more important than the wedding, and our commitment to each other was made before October 15, 2001.  You see, I had already turned myself over to you, heart and soul, long before then.  The smartest decision of my life was when I chose you.  When I chose the life I wanted to have with you. 

Fifteen years is more than a third of my life.  We have seen our share of ups and downs.  We have had babies and lost babies.  We've celebrated marriages of family and friends and we have held each other through the losses of people close to us.  We have seen each other through injuries and illness, happy times and sad times, vacations and the everyday grind.

There's no question that I would not have made it through the last three years without you.  You have seen me at my absolute worst:  sick, tired, bald, scarred and scared.  And you loved me through it.  You have been so strong when I couldn't be, even though I know your world was turned upside down.  You have changed bandages, held me when I was sick, emptied drains and made me feel pretty through all of it, simply because of the way you looked at me.  You never saw any of that stuff.  When that was all I could focus on, you still saw ME.

From the day we met, you have been a calm, steady presence in my life.  You are the glue that holds me together when I feel like everything is falling apart.  You are the strong arms that hold me when I need comfort, you're the shoulder I cry on when life gets to be too much.  You make me laugh every day. 

You have given me two of the greatest joys of my life.  J and K make me proud every single day, and I love our little family with every fiber of my being.

Our kids keep us so busy that our focus is usually on their lives and activities.  But before there was them, there was us.

Our love is the foundation that we've built our family on, and it is solid as a rock.  I love that yours is the last face I see at night, and I love waking up next to you every morning. 

Thank you for giving me you.  I couldn't love you more.
Happy 15th Anniversary.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1130

It's October y'all.

Know what that means?  Football and cooler nights and sweaters and pumpkin scented everything.

It also means a deluge of pink ribbons everywhere.  You'll see more fundraisers for breast cancer awareness this month than you will the rest of the months of the year combined.  You'll be able to buy pink trash bags, pink socks, pink ribbon jewelry.... everything from shampoo to sweatshirts will turn pink for October.  The NFL players will be wearing pink socks and gloves.  Even our high school football team has a "Pink Out" game.

The sad part is, most of that money is simply revenue for the companies capitalizing on an extremely popular marketing campaign.  If you look at the numbers, very little of the money spent on pink ribbon stuff actually goes towards funding anything to do with breast cancer.  

That sucks.  But you know what?  For me, buying a pink ribbon bracelet because it's pretty and your mother had breast cancer is ok.  Wearing pink ribbon fuzzy socks on the first cold day because you couldn't resist them is ok.  I'm pretty sure there aren't too many people around who are not aware of breast cancer.  One in eight women will get it, which means a lot more of those eight will be directly affected by it.  Choose how you participate in the pink ribbon campaign wisely.  Going without a bra for a day to "save the ta tas" is not ok.... it's a Facebook gimmick. 

(If you want some cute stuff and help fund mammograms for women while you're at it, shop at The Breast Cancer Site.  They will tell you exactly how much of your purchase goes toward breast cancer funding.)

A couple of weeks ago I was talking with a softball coach from out of town, and she mentioned that her mom has breast cancer.  I told her that I am a three year breast cancer survivor, and her email reply was:

That's AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   

Yeah.  It damn sure is.

Next weekend is our softball league's fifth annual "Hope for a Cure" tournament.  K's team will be wearing special pink ribbon jerseys, and I bought Hubby a pin that says "Real men wear pink".  Not because I want to jump on the Pinktober bandwagon, but because this has been a very real, very difficult, very personal journey and "Pinktober" MEANS something to me.  When I hand out the trophies and medals to the winning teams next Sunday and tell them that I'm a breast cancer survivor, it shows those young girls that breast cancer is more than just a pink ribbon on a cup.  I can look at them and smile and tell them thank you for playing for a such a good cause.  I can give them a face for "Pinktober".

From my October 1st blog post two years ago:
(kicking-cancers-ass-day-399)

I don't wear pink to make people aware.  I don't wear my pink ribbon necklace so people will know I had breast cancer.  I support "the cause", because in turn, I'm supporting the women who have been and are right there with me.  Fighting cancer is a big, huge deal, and every day that I wake up breathing and smiling is a big fat "f-you" to cancer.  And that's worth wearing pink for! 

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1121

There haven't been many days in the last 1000+ that I haven't been tired, but lately my fatigue is at a whole new level.  If I wasn't so tired, I would probably be really worried.

This is me at work today:

I'm not kidding.  

It probably didn't help that I took a muscle relaxer at midnight last night.  But what are you supposed to do when you go to sleep, then wake up fifteen minutes later with serious jitters and restless legs?  I needed help - fast.

I'm a night owl.  I always have been.

Mornings are not my friend.  My mother wakes up at 5am (or earlier) every day.... without an alarm clock.  Seriously?  That's practically the middle of the night for me.  

Lately I've been fighting some kind of cold with a migraine or allergies or SOMEthing, and have been staying up way too late working on softball stuff.  So last night I went to bed at 10:30, determined to get a good night's sleep.

It didn't work out for me.  I fell asleep fine, but staying asleep was the problem.  How can I be so incredibly exhausted and yet unable to sleep?

It doesn't really matter if I go to bed at 10pm or 1am.  It doesn't matter if I go to work, or if I go back to bed after the kids leave for school and nap until 11am.  I never feel rested.

Is this a post-cancer thing?  A menopause thing?  A life is so busy I just need a hundred naps thing?

Or is something else going on... something possibly scary and worrisome that I don't even want to think about?

I'm blaming it on Tamoxifen, which has been proven to cause symptoms similar to chemo brain.

In fact, Tamoxifen has been linked to symptoms like being unusually disorganized, confusion, difficulty concentrating, fatigue, impaired verbal memory (e.g. remembering a conversation), impaired visual memory (e.g. recalling an image or list of words) and other similar problems. 

I'm like a toddler with ADHD.  I'm exhausted but can't sleep, can't pay attention, can't stay on task, etc.  There is hope, though.  From WebMD:

For the study, Mark Noble and his research team first sought to identify whether brain and central nervous system cells were sensitive to tamoxifen. They found one type of cell that was particularly vulnerable to the drug. After just two days of exposure to tamoxifen at levels similar to those someone in treatment would receive, 75 percent of these cells died.

"AZD6244 is being studied for cancer therapy. It protects normal cells, but it doesn't protect cancer cells. It may even make cancer cells more sensitive to some types of therapies," Noble said.

I don't know how soon the additional research on this AZD drug will happen, so it's probably years away from being a viable option.  But considering I have to take Tamoxifen for ten years.... maybe eventually I'll get back to being sharp, smart, organized and energetic.

Maybe.  But looks like that's not happening today.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1111

I wanted to write something profound, something that would touch people and mean something on this, the fifteenth anniversary of 9/11.
Then I realized I already had.  The following post is from my blog five years ago, on the 10th anniversary of 9/11.  I still feel exactly as I did that day, and I couldn't have written anything better.

Never forget.

September 11, 2011

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1105

Lately I've felt like Snoopy in that cartoon.  I don't claim to be a writer in any way, shape or form .... but as a blogger, writer's block can and has hit me a time or two.  This is one of those times.

In 2013 I was in the midst of a grueling chemo regimen designed to save my life.  I had a lot more to write about back then.  Chemo details, cold caps, appointments, medication, injections, side effects... the list was endless.  Now that life is settling into a new normal for me, it's more of a same stuff, different day kind of thing.

I have four cancer doctors.  One of them I only have to see once a year.  The other three are six month visits.  I'm lucky because aside from Tamoxifen side effects, I'm feeling pretty good, so when I go to an appointment, I usually get a "everything looks good, see you in six months".  Considering where I was this time three years ago, I consider that progress.  If hot flashes, hip pain and restless legs are my biggest complaints, I can't really complain.

One area I haven't made a lot of progress in is dealing with the fear.  I don't have any reason to believe I am not cancer free.  I did everything medically possible to give myself the best chance to live a lot of years with NED (no evidence of disease).  Sixteen weeks of chemo, seven surgeries, six weeks of radiation and now eight more years of hormone therapy..... that's a pretty impressive attack on cancer.  

The unknown is a dark and scary place, though.  I haven't had a scan since I finished chemo.  My mom had colon cancer and she has routine CT scans to check for the dreaded C.  While those scans are nerve-wracking, it's a relief when she gets the all clear.  Aside from routine blood work when I see Dr. H, I don't have any tests or procedures to check for cancer.  Basically, unless my labs go wonky or I start showing worrisome symptoms, everyone is happy, and that is my "all clear".  Despite that, there's a small part of me that always, always expects to have the other shoe drop eventually.  I'm only 43 years old and I had Stage III cancer.  I'm also positive for the BRCA 2 gene, which means my chances of getting breast cancer, as well as many other cancers, are much higher than normal.  That's serious business to me.  

How do I combat that fear?  By being grateful for every moment.  I get to watch my son march with his band during the halftime shows at football games.  He loves band, and I love that for him.  

I get to spend most of my free time doing softball stuff.... I am vice president and scheduler for the league, and team mom for K's team.  Saturday she had five games and she pitched and/or caught in all of them.  I love, love, love watching her and her Diamonds teammates play.  

Today is Labor Day, which means I got to spend an extra day with Hubby.  We walked hand in hand through Lowe's, planning a bathroom update.  Two years ago I was recovering from surgery.  Today I was shopping for a vanity.

A couple weeks ago my sister-in-law (another cancer survivor) accompanied me to my doctor appointment in Dallas and we had an overnight detour at the casino.  Last week I had dinner and a drink with a friend.  I read a lot, I drive around with the sunroof open and the music loud, and I've been binge watching Sons of Anarchy with my husband.

Football games, softball games, band performances, dinners out with friends, home improvements..... all little things that add up to one big thing:  my life.

There have been many dark days since August 1, 2013, but life is so good.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1088

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1087

So apparently I have kids in middle school and high school.  How did THAT happen?

This afternoon I had a lunch date with my son.  He's a fun guy to hang out with.  Honest.  He's a moody, cranky, hormone-driven, puberty-stricken man-child, but he's pretty low maintenance for a teenager.  And he's extremely clever and very funny.  Afterward we went shopping for school supplies.  For a freshman, that consisted of one spiral notebook, a 3-pack of mechanical pencils and an electric razor.  Whoa.... wait!  A RAZOR!?!??!  Yes.  His high school does not allow any facial hair.  I'm not sure how on earth I suddenly have a boy old enough to shave, but there you have it.

Tonight we went to our last ever "Meet the Teacher".  Thankfully it was relatively painless.  Her campus is 5th and 6th grades, but only 5th has meet the teacher night, so it wasn't nearly the mad house that the other schools have been.  I'm extremely happy that K not only knows several people in her class this year (including the boy she's been crushing on... oooh la la), but she apparently lucked out and got the teacher other people requested.  Last year's trio of fantastic teachers will be hard to top, but it's nice to know we're starting out on a high note.

Both kids are excited for school.  It's a whole new world for both of them.... new schools, new teachers, new schedules.  I pray that they, along with their teachers, have a fantastic year.  

Now if someone could just tell me which bus they will ride....

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1077

Time for another insomniac blogging post...

The story of my life these days.....waking up exhausted, feeling drained by 3pm, needing a nap at 7pm and being wide awake at 10pm.  

I've always been a night owl.  My mother and my son are morning people.  Like wake up at ridiculously early hours without an alarm kind of morning people.  Not me.  I need an alarm and four or five snooze hits to wake up.  I hate having to set an alarm.  Once I'm asleep, I like to SLEEP!  But I also like to stay up late.  A quiet house late at night is bliss for me.  Most of the time that's because I've got my nose buried in a book.  Or I'm playing 1010 on my phone....... the seriously addictive game my kids introduced me to.  Sometimes I'm researching Dr. Google for whatever mysterious ailment is plaguing me lately.  Or I'm scouring Facebook for posts by other people who are awake in the middle of the night too.  

Since my days of fighting cancer began, the words night owl took on an entirely new meaning.  I want to sleep.  I need to sleep.  But the time comes to go to bed and suddenly I'm wide awake... or my hip starts hurting me... or most often, my restless legs kick in.  Tonight it's all three, and even with the help of a pain pill and a restless legs pill, it's 12:13am and I'm still awake.

I should be sleepy.  Yesterday I logged over 10,000 steps in 102 degree heat at K's softball tournament, and I was up at 6:30am today to be back at the fields for a morning game.  Some shopping, four loads of laundry, vacuuming and cooking dinner filled my the rest of my day..... none of that wore me out apparently.  

Eventually I will get tired.  My legs will hopefully calm down enough so that I can go to bed and at least lay there until I'm sleepy.  I don't mind that.  I always joke when my kids complain about going to bed that I wish someone would tell ME to go to bed.  Ha.  

I love my bed.  I love my pillow.  I love going to bed having Hubby right next to me.

I just wish sleep came as easily as it used to, because nothing is more frustrating than lying awake counting down the hours until you have to get up for work.

Hubby and J have to be up by 6:15am - Hubby for work and J for band practice, so they've both been asleep for hours.  K and I have to be up by 6:45am - me for work and K for church camp, but I have obviously NOT been asleep for hours.  

As a cancer patient, there are a lot of legitimate reasons to have trouble sleeping.  In the beginning, the emotions and the fear and the anxiety take hold and it's hard to dial it all down.  Steroids during chemo keep you going until you eventually crash.  Pain after surgery makes sleeping very uncomfortable.  Hot flashes from menopause make trying to sleep an Olympic event.  

Maybe my body has just had too long (1075 days) to get used to not sleeping.  

Cancer is the gift that keeps on giving.

Kicking cancer'a ass - day 1076

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1071

Sleep at 10pm?  12am?  3am?  All iffy. 

Sleep at 7am or 8am when I have to get up?  You betcha.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1070

Being a cancer survivor means...

• feeling exhausted all day, yet going to bed feeling wide awake
  (There is nothing like the tired that comes from being a cancer patient.  I'm a mom - I know tired.  But no amount of 3am feedings could have prepared me for what THIS kind of tired feels like.  Even now, three years after D-day, my body is still trying to recover from 16 weeks of chemo, 6 weeks of radiation and 7 surgeries.  Add in immediate surgical menopause and anti-cancer meds and you have the perfect cocktail of extreme fatigue.  Insomnia is my new best friend.)
• treasuring every day with my children
  (Telling my kids that I had cancer was the worst moment of my life.  The fact that I'm alive and well and able to do things like enjoy K's softball games and J's band concerts, play mini golf and go to the water park on vacation with them, teach them, laugh with them, love them.....I know a lot of cancer patients aren't as lucky.  I get to wake up and look at the two greatest joys of my life and be grateful that I get to spend another day with them.... another chance to watch them grow into pretty cool people.)
• having to write everything down (and I mean everything)
  (Or in my case, put everything in my phone.  If there is an appointment that's not on my calendar, I won't be there.  If I have to make a phone call the next day and I don't send myself a text, that call will never happen.  If I have to pay something, email something, buy something, sell something, do anything - it goes in my phone. I used to be a supremely organized multi-tasker.  Now I can't walk into a room without forgetting why I was going there.  If my life wasn't backed up in my Google account, I'd be lost.  Chemo brain is real, folks.)
• learning what is worth stressing over
  (I'm still working on this one.  Everyone says "don't sweat the small stuff" right?  When you are diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, your definition of "small stuff" changes in a heartbeat.  I can't say that I've perfected the art of letting things go, but I have been teaching myself to pause, take a step back, and when I'm in the middle of a freak out or getting really upset over something, remind myself that I faced cancer.  I often ask myself "is this really important in the grand scheme of things?".  I haven't exactly mastered the art of letting things roll off my back, and probably never will, but I'm trying.)

• finding out what an amazing human being my husband is 
  (I wish every woman fighting breast cancer could have someone like him.  No lie.  My man has held me up, played Mr. Mom, changed my bandages, nursed me through chemo, emptied - and even removed - drains, packed wounds, filled prescriptions, made phone calls.... you name it, he's done it.  He has a creaky, cranky, scarred wife and doesn't bat an eye at any of it.  He has been my nurse, my sounding board, my chauffeur, my shoulder to cry on, my rock.  I would not have made it through three years of kicking cancer's ass without him by my side.)
• rebuilding my self-esteem
  (I have never been a self-confident person.  I'm too shy, too timid, don't like to be the center of attention.  My hair is too curly, my thighs are too fat, my skin is too wrinkled.  Cancer changed me, physically and emotionally, and I've had to learn how to love the new me.  Chemo killed my taste for water and for diet coke.  Radiation left me with fatigue that still lingers.  I have scars on top of scars and areas where I can't feel anything from my surgeries.  Weight gain is a side effect of two of the medications I'm on (boy oh boy, is it ever!).  My hair came back 80% gray.  My right hip hurts so bad I feel like I'm ninety years old.  But I'm alive.  And you know what hasn't changed?  What makes me Michelle.  I still cry when I'm mad, get my feelings hurt too easily, love with all my heart.  I try to be kind, and be the kind of friend I'd like to have.  I like lighthouses and reading and going to the casino with my Hubby.  I'm still a diehard Cowboys fan and love country music and would give anything to live by the beach.  Even though parts of me may not look the same or feel the same, or ever really BE the same.....I'm still me.)

Every day I'm alive is a victory over cancer.
Every day I'm alive is a bonus day that I've been given.
Every day is a gift I try to treasure.

Want to know what being a cancer survivor means?
It means thumbing my nose at cancer each and every day.... three years and counting.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1049

I'm reposting this blog entry from last year because I couldn't write it any better.

Allyson Hendrickson.

Most of you did not know her.  I'm sorry for that.  She was a person well worth knowing.  She was a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an auntie and a friend.  She was my friend.

Two years ago today Allyson earned her angel wings.  I know she's at peace now that she's at home with God.  She's no longer in pain.  She's no longer having to fight every single day to stay alive.  I'm relieved for her.  But I'm still sad.  Sad for those of us who loved her.  Especially sad for her "three little cowboys" who have to grow up without their incredible mom.  

I always talk about my "journey" or traveling this road we call cancer.  Nobody traveled it better, with more grace, than Allyson.  She was my example.  She taught me how to fight cancer, and how to live life while doing it.  Having cancer brought her to the lowest of low points, and yet her faith was still shining brightly.

My blog entry from the day of Allyson's memorial service is one of the best things I've ever written.  If you want to know Allyson, and what having her for a friend was like, read Kicking cancer's ass - day 321

Allyson's friends started a non-profit organization called Ally's Wish, and they raise money to grant wishes to mothers with terminal illnesses.  The first wish granted was Allyson's - to have her blog published for her boys.  Her family was the first to receive the book, but I'm happy to say that Three Little Cowboys is finally available to everyone.  Click here to purchase!  My copy sits proudly on my bookshelf.

If you've never read any of Allyson's blog, you need this book.  Even if you have, you need this book.  She was such a gifted writer - her blog entries were so heartfelt and funny, even through her darkest days.  The light that is Allyson Hendrickson shines through every single blog entry.

Buy the book.  Read the book.

Pray for her family.

Donate to Ally's Wish.

And wear flip flops.  Make Allyson proud.

I miss you friend.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1045

Definition of blessing

: something that helps you or brings happines

One of the greatest blessings in my life is my husband.

Sixteen years ago today, he walked off of a plane in Atlanta and changed my life forever. From that day forward it has been him and me against the world, and I thank God every day that He gave me such a good, good man to stand beside me for the rest of my life.

Tomorrow, July 8th, we get to celebrate Hubby on his birthday.  

I looked at him with stars in my eyes back then, and I still look at him that way today.  He is the one who makes me laugh, the one who holds me when I cry.  He teases me and takes care of me.  He has been my rock through every storm we've faced, including a pretty damn big storm.

Hubby is not only a good person and a wonderful husband.  

He is a fantastic father to his three kids.  He is funny and sarcastic, strict but gentle, strong and loving.  He would do anything for his kids and to him, family is everything.

Hubby, I wish I knew how to give you the perfect day for your birthday.  You're the husband I love more than words can say, the incredible father to our kids, the friend anyone would be lucky to have.
You wear many hats:  business owner, boss, coach, pool guy, nurse, masseuse, father, son, uncle, brother, even grandpa.  You're always willing to help - anyone, anytime.  You generously give over and over without complaint.

You're the biggest, brightest star in my galaxy and you make me happy every single day.  

You're the strongest person I've ever known, and I'm one lucky lady to have had that strength to help me through 1043 days of kicking cancer's ass.

Happy Birthday Hubby.  I love you!