Find a Cure

Too cute... had to share.

Wisdom

I keep thinking that I will have some kind of personal epiphany due to my cancer journey. I mean, aren’t I supposed to learn some valuable life lesson from this adversity that I will carry with me the rest of my life? Aren’t I supposed to have a life altering “ah-ha!” moment that changes me forever? Now that I have joined the cancer club, I pretty much expected the clouds to part and a ray of light would shine down illuminating the great “cancer gods” who would reveal the meaning of life to me - or something prophetic like that. I was hoping a clever, Lance Armstrong-like slogan would form in my head and I would be able to hand out sage advice to all those around me who have not stared the “Big C” straight in the face.

I got nothing.

Well, that is, I got nothing clever. I have learned a few things about myself and about my life that I didn’t really notice before.

I never fully realized what wonderful family and friends I have until I got cancer. I never realized how MANY friends I have nor had I ever truly realized the depths of my friendships. I never appreciated how many intelligent, funny, and caring individuals I know! How lucky I am to have family and friends that are so wise and witty and that show up when it matters most. Your outreach to me has made a significant impact; each and every one of you has touched my heart in some special way. It sounds kinda weird to say, but I felt validated as a person recognizing all the good friends I have. It made me think that maybe I’m not such a bad person after all :) It feels good to know that such wonderful people love you, care about you, and are concerned for your safety. I had a true Sally Fields moment where I realized, “They like me – they really like me!”

I realized something else important. I’m not sure I have paid enough attention when others are in a crisis. Have I shown up when it was important? I don’t think I’ve been the best at sending cards or meals or making phone calls. My mailbox and inbox have stayed full since my diagnosis; I now know how much a simple card can mean. It seems every time I was feeling low, a note of some kind would arrive and lift my spirits. How hard is that? Why haven’t I been more attentive to these kinds of things? And many people went way beyond a simple note. You brought meals, you sent flowers and gifts. You listened to me cry or bitch or you made me laugh. This whole experience has taught me I need to be more aware of what’s happening to other people and reach out to them – even if it’s just in a small way. I will do better. In the words of the dumb blonde, “It isn’t rocket surgery.”

So…all of this is important stuff – even if it isn’t clever or earth shattering. Maybe those clouds will still part, maybe the epiphany will eventually arrive. If it does… I’ll be sure to fill you in.

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Are We There Yet?

I had the notion that as soon as I was one week past my last chemo that I would be feeling brand new again and ready to celebrate. In truth, it is just this past week that I have begun to feel some real strength and stamina. What are we now – 7 weeks out? My fingers and toes are still pretty numb and are a constant reminder that my body is still recovering. However, I’m excited to report that I’ve regained complete feeling in my pinky fingers!! It leaves me with hope that the other digits will be returning soon. Fine motor skills like buttoning a shirt or fastening a necklace are quite difficult. The fingernails continue to decay, but I’m not sure if they will actually fall off. The top half of the nails is dead but the nail beds seem strong and are producing new growth. Maybe the dead part will just “grow out” and I won’t ever be completely nail less.

My poor little head is covered with a good bit of fuzz now (most of it grey, unfortunately!) and a tiny bit of hair is starting to crop up on my legs, underarms and private parts (yes – I lost all of that hair too!) I only have a few eyelashes left and something tells me it will be awhile before they return. I wonder what it’s like to wear fake eyelashes? I don’t believe I’ve ever tried them. And even if I put them on they’d probably melt off right after the first hot flash. Man – those hot flashes are a bitch! Mine start at the base of my skull and within an instant my whole head is covered with sweat, which is weird because I have never been a heavy sweater. Like many fine, southern women, I don’t sweat, I dew, so this is a very new phenomena for me! Now I can handle them fine during the daytime, but they sure mess up my sleep at night. Argh – they are so unfair.

I have been trying to exercise as much as possible to rebuild my strength. I get to the gym when I can and try to walk on the other days. I have to say – the exercise feels good and I can tell a difference in my stamina already. It’s always hard to make myself get up and go but I always feel much better afterwards. As my sister-in-law Ruth says, you never leave the gym saying, “That was a waste of time. I wish I hadn’t done that.”

So I’m starting to feel more like my old self, but I’m not completely there yet. The end of chemo was a huge milestone, but I’m just not ready to celebrate. The big surgeries still loom ahead and I am having a hard time thinking about them. In fact, I don’t want to think about them at all. I just want to feel normal again. I want to have hair, and fingers that work, and strength in my legs. And I want those damn hot flashes to go away.

Okay, okay – I’ll settle for 3 out of the 4.

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The Happiness Grenade

Happiness often comes through simple pleasures. Take the Happiness Grenade, for example. My son Eli, made this Happiness Grenade for me when I was in the hospital earlier this summer; it is one of my most prized possessions. He pulled together all the parts and assembled it on his own. Just pull the pin and throw – and happiness will spill out everywhere!

Where in the world did he come up with this idea? My son is somewhat obsessed with guns and weapons, yet he has a very sweet, nurturing heart. The Happiness Grenade is a perfect symbol of irony for him.

The most amazing thing of all is – it really works! I never fail to smile anytime I look at it :)

The Race for the Cure

The Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Little Rock is one of the biggest in the country; they typically have over 40,000 people each year. So I had absolutely no plans to fight that crowd and walk (or run) in the event. My plan was to register, donate my money, pick up my t-shirt, and go have breakfast somewhere the day of the race! But it seems my friends and family had a different idea!

My friends and family got together and organized a party of folks to walk in the Family 2k Race in my honor. They finally let me in on this plan the Monday before the race. I was immediately worried because my stamina is so low I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to walk a mile and half. There was even talk of pushing me in a wheel chair, but I quickly nixed that idea! I got to the gym every day that week and walked the track to make sure I was ready.

The day of the race we all met at a friend’s house to park our cars. My brother-in-law, Adam, owns a limo as a part of his auto repair business and he came to pick us up and take us to the race. Now this is the way to travel to the Race for the Cure! No parking problems, no walking 10 blocks to the start line, no standing around. Oh no – we were dropped off one block from the start line minutes before the race began. Fabulous!

To make the day more festive, we all donned bright orange cowboy hats on our heads. No- we aren’t Oklahoma football fans… You see, when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I kept saying, “Everybody circle the wagons and shoot!” It was my way of saying that I needed everybody to gather around me to help fight this disease. Also, I seemed to gravitate towards the color orange once I lost my hair – I’ve particularly clung to one orange colored scarf that is my favorite. So – the orange cowboy hats were a perfect salute to my cancer journey. Below are a couple of the little cowboys that walked with us. The biggest one (Eli) belongs to me, the other two are family friends. Eli covered his face with his pink bandana and called himself the cancer bandit!




The race was amazing. When we got out of the limo we could see a river of people flowing by. As we merged into the stream, I quickly realized there was an ocean of people as far as we could see – both ahead of us and behind us. It was unlike anything I have ever seen. Our orange hats turned out to be a great idea; they were so bright you could easily spot anyone in our group! And I have to tell ya, it was the most orderly group of 46,000 people I have ever been in. No one was rushing or pushing – no one ever even bumped into me! Look at all the people:





The walk was slow but fun – it took us about an hour to complete. Every quarter mile or so there was a band playing or a radio station blasting tunes. Supporters - mostly men, but women too - lined the sides of the streets and clapped and cheered as everyone walked past. One exciting moment occurred when we were crossing the Broadway St. Bridge over the Arkansas River. The bridge was swaying so heavily under all the foot traffic that it was literally making us stumble! We paused to take a picture of the river but quickly decided to forget the picture and get the heck off that bridge. I know they are meant to sway like that, but yikes!

It was very heartwarming to see all the signs people were wearing on their backs. The signs told who they were honoring or memorializing with their walk in the race. The signs said things like, “I love you Sara” or “I miss you Mom,” (which brought a tear to my eye.) And imagine how surprised I was to run into some people I know who had my name printed on their backs! I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. I also received emails later from two friends saying they had worn my name as well. Wow.

At the end of the walk, they had a special finishing “gate” for survivors. My sister and I ran the gate together. Not only is she an 18 year survivor of breast cancer herself, but she has made the entire journey with me. In fact, Ben and Eli should have run the gate with me too. Although they’ve never had breast cancer, they are survivors of the disease.

When the race was over, Adam picked us up in the limo (again – one block from the finish line!) and took us back to our cars. We all trekked over to my house where a host of chefs (Ben, Dan, Janet, and my Mom) had prepared a sumptuous brunch of baked eggs, cheese grits, homemade biscuits, apple soufflé, fruit salad, green salad, assorted baked goods, and a small pot of cowboy beans. Of course we had bloody mary’s and mimosas too! I drank my fair share of champagne and had to take a little nap before the day was over :)

The organizers of the Little Rock Race for the Cure have every reason to be proud. It was such a well run, well supported event. Over 46,000 people participated and raised over 2 million dollars!! It is so encouraging to see so many people united over a single cause. It is a truly unbelievable event.

All in all it was a wonderful day and I am so glad we did it. I felt so honored by everyone that attended. I’ve said this many times and I’ll say it again – I never realized how many good friends and relatives I have until this disease showed up at my door. If I gain nothing else from this journey – I know I am loved.

Now really – can you ask anything more of life than that?

(Okay… I have to go find some tissue now!)

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