Life with a Purpose

In the past nine months, I have thought and talked a great deal about the Big C at work. Every woman I talk to gets the same lecture on getting checked. And recently, I have heard from a number who listened. In fact, I have also heard from male customers who listened... and this is what I have heard back.

Most of the women who have talked with me and heard my plea that they get checked came back with smiles and good reports. Every time I hear an all clear report, I smile and remind them to be vigilant. One young lady, or rather, younger than me lady, came to tell me she took my advice and MADE her doctor give her the mammogram.  She is in her thirties, but has a family history of BC and thought maybe she felt something, but wasn't sure. Her doctor poo poo-ed her at first, but after talking to me, she went to him and argued. A week later, she had her test. Two days after that, she got the phone call. Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Not what you want to hear, but she caught it at age 36. Four more years and it could have spread anywhere. She came back to thank me. I hugged her, gave her my phone number and told her anything she needs to talk about... just call. Anytime. Even 4am. Don't be afraid. You have cancer, sister, but it doesn't have you.

A man who has watched me talk to her came to me afterwards and told me that he had been watching me throughout this whole ordeal. His aunt had just been diagnosed and had a mastectomy. He said he thought about me when he talked to her. Then he asked "What is it about cancer that makes people change? How do you get so strong?" I asked what he meant and he explained that his aunt is in her seventies, but had the surgery and went right back to caring for her husband who has Alzheimer's. He noticed that I worked the whole way through chemo, was out a very short period and came back like nothing had happened. And to top it off, I was happy!

Now... I know this man as a 7 year customer. He is what we call a difficult customer. He gets mad easy, yells and has temper tantrums. But I have noticed that he has changed over the past 8 months. He always stops to talk. He smiles at me more. He takes an interest. And I don't think he even realized that he has changed... not me. But his question made me stop.

I told him this:
Not everyone who has cancer is strong. None of us are strong by choice.Some are strong by necessity. Some are strong by faith.  Some of us are just stubborn. But you can't beat it if you don't fight. Sometimes you fight and still lose...
Cancer doesn't change you. Facing your own mortality does. But you know, you don't have to have cancer to make the same change. All you need to do it look at the beautiful woman you woke up beside and that beautiful baby asleep in the next room and realize that you are blessed. To start with... you woke up, and somewhere out there, someone else didn't. Secondly, you have people you love who love you. And most importantly, you just have to realize that you are not promised the first two things forever, so enjoy them right now. Also...( and this is where I put things in perspective) before you go to get upset over something, ask yourself... is this really worth getting upset over? I mean... in my life, if it isn't as bad as the news that I have the big C, then it isn't worth getting worked up over. Finally... when you lay down to sleep at night... don't forget to say Thank You... because today was a gift, and we should always be thankful for the gifts that come our way.

Butter and the cookie monster

I had to post these two short stories separate. You'll understand when you read it.

I had two major chemo brain incidents while in NY. The first was the day we got there.  It is otherwise known as the attack of the cookie monster.

We went to the first viewing, and while we were outside, a woman came up with a plate of cookies. I know I have met her before, but for the life of me, I can't place her. She goes inside, then comes back to tell me to make sure the cookies go where everyone is after the service. I make it a point to not forget the cookies. So after the service, I took the cookies with us to Tara's house, where Dad's family is gathered. Turns out that the woman was actually one of her mom's relatives and I was supposed to get the cookies to that side of the family. I am now a cookie thief. I have misappropriated the cookies.

The second is what I will call The Butter Incident.

After the services, we went to dinner with the family at a country club. I got my plate, my roll and a pat of butter. I sat down, buttered the roll and started eating. Of course, we are at a table filled with the younger cousins, so there is a lot of conversation. I went to butter my roll and realized the butter was missing. I could have sworn I picked up butter. What did I do with it? I was looking all around my plate and someone asked what I was looking for. So I explained I had misplaced the butter. Then I noticed the roll... it was already cut open... don't tell me... I lifted the top and it was buttered. So I started laughing. Of course now everyone wants to know what is so funny. I explain what I just did. Meanwhile, Michele thinks I just wanted more butter, so while I was explaining what was so funny, she dropped a pat of butter on the plate. I turn back to the plate and THERE IS THE BUTTER!!!!! Oh My GOOODDDD!!! I KNEW I had picked up butter. And Of course, I have already forgotten that I buttered the roll. I am honestly startled by the sudden reappearance of my missing butter and I say so loudly and emphatically, to which the whole table begins laughing. They had all seen Michele put the butter on my plate and thought I had seen it too. I pick up my roll and once again discover it is already buttered... wait... then whose butter is that on the plate?

Michele said the look on my face was priceless. And I may never live it down... in fact... the next day, her cousin gave me a whole stick of butter of my very own...

Family Part 2

Okay... so... We are Driving to NY, which is normally a 12 hour trip. I had Herceptin that morning, so of course I am loopy and groggy. Our future sister in law and the baby are with us and the poor baby is teething and has very bad gas. The trip turned into an 18 hour drive. I missed a good portion of it, because I fell asleep, but Michele and SIL were both completely worn out by the time we got there. Everyone napped a couple of hours and then headed out to the funeral.

It was a beautiful service. Her dad was a retired police lieutenant and volunteer fire fighter, as well as a veteran, so there were lots of uniforms there. And of course, the huge family. Oh yeah... I forgot to tell you (I think...but maybe not) that her family is Irish. Extremely Irish. Did I also mention that there are a lot of them? My poor SIL had to meet this huge family after three hours of sleep with a fussy baby. Then there was me... Chemo brain in action... trying to remember names and attach them to the right people (which I am not good with on a regular day, let alone after 8 months of treatments and a long car ride) and hoping I don't confuse anyone. Of course, I know her aunts and uncles on her fathers' side. They are the most amazingly warm and loving bunch of people. They love my wife so much and they just opened their arms to me from the start, so every time I see them is a joy. Add to that all the cousins who are so willing to love and be loved and I wondered why I had been so worried about coming. Wait... her mom... that's right.

Due to the sheer size of the family, or so I thought, I saw her mom about twice. Once when I hugged her and told her I was so sorry for his passing and then again when we were at the dinner after the burial service. I was taking pictures of everyone, and took some good ones of her and the family. Turns out, the family had decided to prevent any problems by never leaving me alone. Michele told me this afterwards, and I could just kiss every one of them. I know it was hard on everyone, losing Dad... but I think it was wonderful how his family protects their own. Her mom's family... well...

The one aunt who I respect a great deal was polite as always. Her mom was polite. The other aunt... as soon as I was alone came up to me, scared the crap out of me and began to tell me how I need to ask her personally for any help we might need, not do some Facebook crap.What she was talking about was the fundraiser we did to pay medical bills. I just nodded and smiled. I mean... I see her point. If we need help, we should just ask, right? But I have a hard time doing that.Asking in person for money that we might not be able to repay puts the person being asked in a difficult position. I didn't want anyone to feel obligated to donate. The whole point to a fundraiser was that people could contribute if they wanted to, in any amount they wanted, but they weren't being pressured to do so. Also, they could do it anonymously if they wanted. I had plenty of those and believe me... I valued every single donation because it paid for a good portion of the bills that were piling up. I am still paying some of them.... but that's not a problem. I have time to pay them now! At any rate... I think it's easier on people to be able to just share the fundraiser site even if they couldn't contribute. Just the fact that so many people sent me prayers and good wishes made it worthwhile. I was touched and surprised by the people who helped, and I can not begin to express how thankful I still am for the generosity of my friends, my family and their friends and family.  So maybe for this particular aunt it seemed.... ummm... cold? I don't really know... I mean... I know why I chose to do what I did, but I don't think that side of the family understands how hard it was for me to even ask for help. But, you know... that's okay, because I have really gotten over worrying about what anyone thinks of me. I am what and who I am and while I am always trying to better myself, I still make mistakes and I guess that may have been one of them.

So... after all the funeral services, we got to spend some quality time with various members of the family. Can I just tell you how much I love her dads family? It was like walking into a room of all your favorite people. It was like having the best hug ever. It was warm, loving and accepting. It made me want to pack them all in my luggage and bring them home. I loved watching how they treated each other. I loved the fact that they care so deeply for family no matter what time or distance has passed. I regret that we haven't had more time with them in the past and I swear that we will find a way to have more time with them in the future. It was exactly what everyone wishes for when they think of family. And I am so honored that they opened their arms for me... not just because of Michele, but because they are just that kind of amazing.

Family... part 1

This may be a long one, so bear with me. Also... this might be a time to remind anyone who reads this that I have made a choice to be completely honest in everything I post, but that all the opinions are mine and mine alone... and sometimes the things I think and say may not be pleasant.

Michele's father passed away June 7th. It's amazing how you can go from ecstatically happy to unbelievably sad in such a short period of time. To add to that, my birthday is also that week. It's hard to explain.  To know that I have time is amazing. To celebrate a birthday that I was afraid I wasn't going to see felt like a victory.  To hear that my partners father, who she loved so dearly, was gone was sad. To try to help her cope with her mixed emotions was frustrating, confusing, depressing and at times I felt completely bewildered. I can't speak for her, so I can't say what all was going through her head. (I have asked her several times to feel free to post anytime she wants, but as yet she still hasn't) All I can say is that my heart hurt for her.  So, of course, I rearranged work so that I could go with her to the funeral. Who wouldn't? The thing is... her mother has never liked me.

I know there are lots of women out there who have difficult relationships with their in-laws. Mine is probably not any different than anyone else. I have never understood the why of it, but she doesn't like me, has never liked me and I don't expect that to change.I have often wondered how to change it. What exactly could I have done differently in the past... what did I say or do that started this and how can I make our not so hot relationship not have an impact on Michele's relationship with her parents. So, I have done my best to stay out of situations where I might do something or say something that will add fuel to the fire.And of course... since she doesn't like me... I am not crazy about her.  Strangely, I have always expected that eventually we would be taking care of her, and you know, I am okay with that. That is what you do for family. No matter what, your parents and your spouses' parents will eventually need you to look after them, and this is something you do no matter what the history you have behind you is. I'm not saying that it would be easy... after all, I am only human, and really... even asking Him to help me not have a cold heart or mean thought doesn't always work. I have said some things in the recent past I wish I could take back, but you can't un-ring a bell.And if I am perfectly honest with myself, it's not that I would take back what I said, just how I said it. Again... I am only human and I make mistakes. (This goes back to some of the things I talked about in earlier posts about looking at the things in your life that you aren't proud of and admitting that there are some ugly things inside yourself.)

But that's really not what I wanted to talk about. I mean, it feeds into what I want to talk about, but I am not writing this to absolve myself of being an ass, which unfortunately I am sometimes. The thing is... I was really unsure about going. My head was like a Greek chorus on crack. Should I go even though I have never been considered by her mom's side to be family? What if I stayed home? Would that be worse? What should I say? Should I say anything? Should I sit with the family or should I sit in the back or should I stay in the bathroom? Do I give my MIL a hug, a handshake or just stay away? What do I need to wear? Should I wear a hat or a scarf? Which will draw the least attention? Should I just go without either and hope everyone thinks my new hair looks okay? What do I do if someone asks me about my health? Is it appropriate to talk about it at all? How do I handle the stress without drawing attention to myself? What do I do if she gets mad at me? What if I say the wrong thing? What if I do the wrong thing? What if she wants to let bygones be bygones? Can I do that? Should I ask that? Is there a rock I can crawl under till this is over? What if it were my funeral? How can I help Michele best? How do I keep from being in the way? What if her alcoholic aunt corners me? What if the dogs try to eat Emily? How do you act at a Catholic service? Should I kneel or stay in my seat? What if I don't know the responses? Will everyone understand that I have chemo brain and can't remember names very well? Can I just stay with the half of the family that likes me or do I have to do my duty to the other half? What if I forget to offer condolences to someone that I should?

So... Regardless of the crazy thoughts in my head... I went.

The R word

There is word I have been waiting to hear. It's a special word, a word that seems almost impossible... but I heard it today for the first time in relation to me. I wish I could say it is a five letter word, as in "cured", but it's not. On the other hand, it's much better than a four letter word, as in dead. It's a word that means I can let out my breathe, which I feel like I have been holding since October. It's a word that means I have some time, that I can pick up my life again. Ask any stage IV patient what they are waiting to hear, and I will bet they say the same thing. Yes... it's Remission. I am officially in remission.

We went to UNC- Chapel Hill today to the Cancer hospital and met with Dr Dees, who is the Associate in charge of the Breast Cancer Clinic. She went through my records and talked with me about where do we go from here and those magic words came from her lips. No... there will be no more Chemo or radiation because there is no need for it right now. After all... currently we have no proof that there is any active cancer anywhere. The lymph nodes that lit up the first PET scan but disappeared on the second one... well, she says those could have been anything... a cold, lupus, stray cancer cells... who knows. But the fact is that they aren't there now. Yes, there MIGHT be some rogue cancer cells floating around, but the Herceptin should take care of that. Yes, the cancer MIGHT have a recurrence, and if it does, we will try something else. But for now... exercise and Vitamin D3 are her suggestions.

So now... I exhale.

How amazing it feels to leave a doctors office with time ahead of me filled with something other than worries. Yes, I know... it's temporary... but there are people who have been in remission for years and years... and I think I can handle that. At least until the day they say they have a cure. So... here's to me and to all those people who prayed for me and with me... Thank You, my Best Friend, for giving me this gift. Thank You for the lessons I have learned. Thank You for the strength to fight, for the love of family and friends and for carrying me through the Valley of Shadows.... I knew if I just had Faith, we could make it through.