Back to Work

It has been over a month since my last post. It feels like a year or more. So much has happened. First let me start by saying Thank You to all that came out to the Sherbert Punch Cancer Walk. Despite a chilly start, the day was perfect. I got to see people I had not seen in years and visit with all my friends and family at one location. It was overwhelming. I wish it had lasted longer so I could have talked to everyone.  The following weekend was the yardsale, where even in the pouring rain, people were shopping. Yvette, Tara, Bre and Jessica worked so hard. I have never seen anything like it. My heart overflows with gratitude.

It has been five months since my surgery, six months since my diagnosis. This just blows my mind. I feel as if my world is standing still, but the world keeps spinning. I feel angry about this sometimes. It usually manifests itself though road rage. Don't these other drivers understand I am having a bad day? A bad six months? That's when I have to remember that the world does not revolve around me and my chemo schedule. Although this is sometimes the hardest pill to swallow, I find great comfort in knowing that there is One who is always with me and knows every hair (well, hair follicle) on my head. Lucky me.

There is nothing like a national tragedy or natural disaster to put me in my place, and the past six months have been riddled with them. The week before my diagnosis..Hurricane Sandy, The weekend after my surgery...Sandy Hook, Last month...Boston, and this week..Oklahoma tornadoes. These are all reminders of the fact that we are not promised tomorrow, and things can change in the blink of an eye. And hopefully these events are reminders that material things do not matter. We should all realize that it is the people around us, and the everyday moments that are irreplaceable. I cannot imagine waiting to find out if my babies escaped the school that was leveled by a tornado or whether the gunman passed by the classroom holding my darlings. But I sure do forget my fortune when they make a mess or wake me up at 7:00, or eat ice cream sandwiches for breakfast. Shame on me. Do I send my husband to work with an "I love you", or did I just roll over in a huff because he shaved too loud? I have a ton of work to do.

Last month, my God mother passed away unexpectedly. She was the kindest woman. She could cook, sew, sing, and she always told me she was proud of me. Even when I was strung out on drugs with beer on my breath, she would hug me and smile and make me feel as if I was the only one in her world. She and her husband came to my college graduation in 2011. She was so proud of me. The day she died, I went back through my phone and Facebook inbox just to make sure that I had told her that I loved her. I could not bear the thought of her dying and not knowing. As I scrolled back through our conversations from the last few years, I know for a fact that she knew. This was such a relief to me. I type through my tears as I think of all the work I have to do.

Tomorrow is my last chemo therapy treatment. As I try to prepare myself for what is to come over the next week, I keep coming back to what seems to be the take home lesson. IT'S NOT THAT BAD and LIFE IS SHORT.
If I love someone, I need to tell them often. If I am upset with someone, I need to work it out...fast. I need to tell my kids daily that they make me proud. I need to breathe deep and react slowly (especially in Evans traffic). I need to make time for myself. It is okay to say no. I need to celebrate the little things. I need to ask for forgiveness. I need to stop making excuses. I need to forget about the Jones', and remember that it is the memories and the laughs and the tears and hugs that are most important. I've got work to do.

Thanks again to the ladies that helped with the yardsale, and the Cancer Walk. Thanks to all that purchased t-shirts and bumper stickers. I hope that "One in Eight" has sparked conversations about breast cancer and early detection. Thanks for the support and prayers that have been spoken on my behalf. It has truly made a difference. 

Phoebe Buffet

Well, we are halfway through the month of April. Master's patrons have hopped their little planes back to where ever they come from. Pollen has settled into the hearts and noses of everyone. Kids have gone back to school..can I get an AMEN! The days seem to move quickly, especially the days when I feel good. Those days fly! I am happy that time is not standing still, because that means that this leg of my journey will soon be over. The last several weeks have been a struggle for me, and I am ready to move on. I am over this. 

I have been a bit overwhelmed at the attention I have received the past few weeks. I had a chance to speak at a University Foundation Fundraiser, I did an interview with Kimberly Scott on channel 2, which showcased my brilliant guitar skills, and now the commercial video for University Hospital foundation has been released. Everywhere I look, I see my own mug. Couldn't I have gotten some recognition while enjoying a good hair day?? Anyway, I don't mind being on stage, so if this gives me a chance to highlight this scary disease and put a steroid rounded face to it, then so be it. 

I have now completed 4 rounds of chemo. But this round has pulled its fair share of punches. Each time I go to the clinic for a treatment, we start off with blood work. The tech draws my blood, someone processes the blood and reports the results to Dr. Keaton, and he consults with me. This whole process takes about 15 minutes and demands a $40 copay and then I am off to the treatment room, where I begin my infusion. On this particular day, my platelet counts were too low for me to receive my chemo.. Some might have celebrated the fact that they would get an extra "feel good" week, but not me. I have painstakingly planned my entire life around these treatments, so for there to be unforeseen changes in this schedule almost shut me down. I do not like surprises, I like structure, I like a routine. I do not like change. And for those out there that know me well, know that I love my day planner, and to have to deface this possession with Liquid Paper, was almost too much for me to bear. It's not that any of my "scheduled appointments" are so important that they could not be changed, it's that I had no control over the decision. No one asked me. Doesn't this doctor know me? Doesn't he know that I have business to tend to? Events to host? Visitors to entertain? TV to watch? Kids to wrangle? I will admit..I am a control freak. I always have been. I try to turn over my will and give it all over to God and somehow, I always take it back. This is just one more time where I had to learn that there are things that are out of my control, and I have to let it go. LET IT GO.

So, I am 5 days out from receiving round 4. The side effects are starting to ease. The bone pain comes and goes and my attention span has improved to the point that I have been able to sit here and write a bit. 
The t-shirts came in Friday, so I have been working on bagging them up, and getting everything ready for the walk on Saturday, and I have been doing so with 3 brain cells. I know I have mentioned chemo brain before..It is like being in a constant cloud...ADD...hangover..Phoebe Buffet state for days. There is not anything you can do about it except laugh and wander around the house looking for stuff. My family thinks this is funny. Throw a pain pill into the mix, and you have one hot bald mess. So this is your disclaimer..who knows what you might find in your race bag.

The Walk is Saturday..I cannot wait to see everyone that is coming out to be with me. I know we will have a good time. It will be a time to learn and spread awareness..

Please continue to pray for me and my family. Pray for me to LET IT GO. Pray for Lauren and Dusty, friends that are courageously fighting cancer battles. We will see you all Saturday!!!

The BIG Things

Over the past four months, I have spent a great deal of time writing about, celebrating and clinging to the small joys. It has been the simple things, the small things that have meant the most throughout this cancer trip. And I totally believe that it is the simple, everyday, ordinary moments that one strings together that will mean the most in the end. Yesterday, I started thinking about the BIG things. 

I promise that this is not a gloom and doom post. However, one cannot face cancer without thinking about the big things. 

Christian's Grandmother passed away right after Christmas. She was the purest, kindest soul I have ever met. This past weekend, our family gathered from all ends of the country to celebrate her life with a small memorial. The weather was perfect, and my dad got to do the service. As I sat there thinking about her and listening to the stories and memories, I was overcome with gratitude that I had had a chance to know her and be a part of her family. She was a quiet, strong woman. She loved her family, and she lived a full life caring for others and loving God.

 I sat there wondering how I would be remembered if my family had gathered to reflect on my life. I know they would not say I was quiet, but strong, I think they would say that. I think they would say I could make people laugh. I have always loved making people laugh. I hope they would say that I was loyal and determined and that I loved hard. It really made me think about how I have lived my life up to this point. I know I have played hard, made mistakes, held grudges and burned bridges. I have lied and gossiped and been self-centered. Yuck. But  I hope that when I am a grandma and I leave this place, my children rise up and call me blessed (Proverbs 31). I hope that I make my children feel good about themselves. I hope they never question whether I am proud of them. I hope Christian knows that he rocks my world. I hope my children and friends will think about me when they hear Janis Joplin or a broadway number or smell patchouli..

The BIG thing is that I don't have to hope for all of these things to happen. I can start right now and make it my mission to love and laugh with my babies and spoil them rotten. I can celebrate report cards and strike outs and recitals and coloring in the lines. I can tell my husband that he is number 1, better yet, I can show him. I can teach my children about love and life and mistakes and grace and I can do it right now. I can prioritize and capitalize on this moment.

Chemotherapy #3 is now in the past. My side effects seem less severe with the new meds that have been added. And the family time, and belly laughs were just what the doctor ordered. The SHERBERT PUNCH CANCER WALK is coming up on April 20. I have ordered the first round of t-shirts, so if you still would like to participate, please visit SHERBERT PUNCH CANCER FIGHT FB page for details. 

As you wrap up this work week, and enjoy the weekend, enjoy the small things while remembering the BIG things.

Life is short. Family is important. Now is the time.

March Madness

I am so glad that March is here. I love the fact that Spring is around the corner. I love Augusta in the Spring. I love dogwood trees, especially the pink ones. I love Masters week. I love Easter. I love the fact that cold weather will soon be a thing of the past. I am definitely a warm weather girl. I think the sun and warmth will do wonders for my morale as I go through the back half of this treatment regimen.

I have completed my second round of chemo. My oncologist added in some new medications to help with the digestive side effects that the chemotherapy brings on. I have to say that round 2 was easier than round 1. I only lost 7 pounds this time around, and I was able to get through my follow-up appointment without the breakdown of the decade. I spared my poor doctor the "Steel Magnolias" beauty shop scene complete with snot and orange juice. My main complaint this time was the emotional symptoms brought on by the steroids I receive before my infusion. I was in full blown "roid rage" by day 3. Everything and everyone had wronged me in some way. The kids were having too much fun, Christian crunched chips too loud, and although I was surrounded with my family and friends most of the weekend, I felt completely alone. The best thing I could do for myself and everyone around me was sleep. And sleep I did. I made up for at least 3 months of 1998, in one weekend.  

I have spoken to other cancer patients about this "alone in a crowded room" phenomenon. I really thought I was going crazy, but it turns out that most people who have faced cancer have faced this feeling. It is a desperate, scary state to be in. I can confidently say that this feeling, by far, is the hardest part of this disease. This is where support groups and conversations with other cancer survivors has been the most helpful for me. When I first meet a woman who has been through breast cancer, it immediately feels as if we have known each other a lifetime. So, if you are reading this at home and you have been through cancer, reach out to others who are in the trenches, because your story can change the course of the day or week for someone. 

Almost all of my hair is gone. There still remains a little halo of fuzz. When I look at myself in the mirror, my physical appearance can be hard to swallow. The mastectomy scars, my port and now my bald head...it is so crazy how life has changed in 4 months. I think I have mourned my hair loss more than the boob loss. I was able to cover my flat chest with a sweater or scarf, but when the hair is gone, there is nowhere to hide. I cannot pretend that nothing is wrong.  I cannot fake it. I have cancer. I have been covered up with complements. My head shape is a hit!! I am grateful my head isn't shaped like Sloth from the Goonies.  All I can say is, Target's winter hat clearance sale and rouge have saved me. 

I had the chance to share a meal with old friends from nursing school the other day. It was a time to catch up, and share our struggles and victories. I left the restaurant with a renewed since of gratitude for my life experiences, even the painful ones. It has been these rock bottom moments where I have seen things the clearest and experienced God's grace to the fullest. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have never been alone. 

With Easter approaching, I pray that I can focus on the good, positive things in my life, rather than feel sorry for myself. I am thankful for my husband who crunches, my friends who visit even when I have steroid rage, my understanding employers, doctors with big brains and DVR. I am thankful for sunshine and photography and 90's music. I am thankful for belly laughs, and the ability to laugh at myself. I am thankful for my kids and their bravery, my church family that has prayed for me for over 20 years. Survivor stories, My dad's gentle hands, my mom's ability to know exactly what I need, even when I don't. My friends who are working tirelessly on the fundraiser, so my bills will be paid. Strangers that pray for me. Memories of where I have been that will keep me from going there again, Jesus, who endured a torture much worse than chemo, and sherbert punch. 






If anyone is interested in purchasing a shirt, it is easiest to just sign up for the walk. Active.com will take your payment, get a shirt size and a mailing address. If you are unable to attend the walk, simply send me a message and we will mail it to you. 

pay pal

Some of you have been asking how you can help or purchase bumper stickers.  Here is how! Once you have a confirmation number, simply email your confirmation number and an address to where you'd like it sent, to sherbertpunch1@gmail.com.  Thanks!



I am getting high tech! Thanks to everyone for the thoughts, prayers, texts and gifts.

Sarah

Chernobyl??

The other day, while texting, I noticed that spell check had replaced the word “chemo” with the word Chernobyl. At the time, I laughed at the absurd substitution. Now, I know Siri had it right. Chernobyl? Chernobyl.

 From the very beginning, I have tried to keep a positive attitude, because I truly believe that my attitude can affect my outcome. I also try to take the “mind over matter” approach, and up until February 1, this approach has worked. I had my first treatment on January 31. The actual infusion went smooth…no allergic reactions, no problems with my port. The nurses at the office were very helpful and friendly, and mom and I shared gossip rags and a few belly laughs. I felt good. The next day, I felt normal. I knew it would take a few hours for the side effects to kick in, but I had already decided that I would be the patient that did not experience any side effects. I had claimed it, so when 4:00 came around, and I was awakened from a nap by the hot flash from hell, I was legitimately surprised. My positive attitude, mind over matter approach had worked until now, what is going on??? My face and neck were on fire, although I did not have a fever, and I was having birthing pains. Birthing pains? Yes. Birthing pains. Lucky for me, Jacob (aka brother of the year) happened to call at the moment I thought I would surely die. He sped to my house to stay with me until Christian could get home. Within an hour, the spell had passed, but it would be three seasons of Idiot Abroad, 16 rolls of quilted northern, 1 gallon of egg drop soup and 13 days until I would feel normal. At this point, mind over matter is out the window.

I returned to the clinic for a checkup on day 7, to have my labs drawn and blood counts checked. When the poor doctor asked me how I had handled the side effects, I had a total melt down. I listed every symptom, muscle cramp, bone pain, hot flash, GI upset all through a mask of tears and snot. It was lovely. I had lost 13 pounds and my white blood cell count was in the toilet. I was escorted over to the “chemo room”, where I received a liter of fluid, antibiotics and a shot that relieved stomach cramps and GI upset. I also enjoyed a much needed therapy session with 2 ladies in the office that understood my fear and sickness all too well. It still amazes me how God places people in one’s path at the exact perfect moment. He is always there looking out for little old me. Within 12 hours, I was on the upswing. I felt like a person again, rather than a dried up, white crusty yard bomb left by the family dog.

Because of the drop in white blood cells, compromised immune system, I am unable to return to my job at this time. I think the financial stress of medical bills and dramatic cut in income is the cause of most of my anxiety. But just as He has provided for my emotional peace, God has also provided for us financially. Through the generosity of family and friends, we have been able to stay afloat. Ends meet, where mathematically they should not.

I have the best friends in the world. Some have come together to arrange fundraisers on my behalf.      April 20, 2013 is the Sherbert Punch Cancer Walk, which will be held at Brookfield Park on Mayo Rd. A silent auction will also be held at that time. My friend Pam (University breast Health Center) will also be on hand to demonstrate and educate about self-breast exams. Proceeds from the walk, auction will go to help my family and Relay for Life. All registration information is on the Sherbert Punch Cancer Fight Facebook Page or at http://www.active.com/running/augusta-ga/sherbert-punch-cancer-fight-2013.

 Please share the information with friends and family. One in eight women is diagnosed with breast cancer during her lifetime. So, if my fight can help just one person, it will have not been in vain. Thanks so much for the continued outpouring of support and prayers. Always remember to enjoy and celebrate the small things in life. Hug your loved ones tight and pray for your enemies.

 

Back to Reality

It has been nearly a month since my last blog post. It does not seem possible that January is almost over. My mother always said that the older one gets the faster the years fly by..and once again, she was right. She is almost always right.

January started out with many follow-up appointments and meetings. I went to a support group for breast cancer survivors and patients, called The Pink Magnolias. It is really interesting to meet people for the first time and have this crazy thing in common. There is an unspoken energy, love in every handshake and glance. The stories of survival are truly awe inspiring. One lady was diagnosed in 1956. She never received Chemo or radiation, and she is not shy about telling everyone that God alone cured her. 

I went to a group called "Look Good Feel Better" where I learned how to apply makeup, tie a scarf out of a t-shirt, care for my skin during chemo, ect. I liked the facial part, but it was very difficult to meet ladies that had already been treated for breast cancer, and were being treated again because the cancer had come back. For those that have read this blog and know me, know that this is my greatest fear. The women I met were especially brave and resilient. I, however was not feeling brave and resilient. 

I had my first appointment with the medical oncology team that will be handling all of my medications from this point on. Dr. Pugliese (BC surgeon extraordinaire) picked Dr. Keaton for me, because of my need to know facts, stats and un-sugarcoated news. He was very nice. He and his nurse covered all side effects that I might endure. The list was long and included nausea, vomiting, hair loss, numbness in the arms/legs, BONE PAIN..
The most upsetting news is I cannot eat sushi or enjoy pedicures (salon style) until I am finished. Of course, I can do my own pedi if I can find my numb feet and bend my painful bones to reach them. UGH.

Mind over matter, mind over matter, mind over matter........

Tomorrow, I will have my port-o-cath placed in my chest, just below my collar bone on the right side. This is a small device that can be accessed with a needle, and my infusions will be delivered right into my large vessles near my heart. They can also draw lab work from the port, so I will only have to endure 1 stick. I will keep this in for up to 2 years.

I will receive 6 rounds of chemotherapy, 3 weeks apart. My infusions will be on Thursdays beginning this week. Each Friday following the infusion, I will receive an injection to help my blood counts rebound. I will also receive a medication called Herceptin, which is a targeted medication for my type of cancer. I will get it for a solid year, every 3 weeks. 

Knowing my chemo start date has given me some time to take charge of my own situation a bit. I cut all of my hair off a couple of weeks ago. I have eaten sushi. I am going today for another pedicure. Last week, I was able to accompany my family to Orlando for some fun. Ellyott and I enjoyed a Justin Bieber concert from a VIP catered Box seat. Christian's Aunt Janelle and Uncle Mack showed us a diva Disney,Epcot, MGM experience complete with private tour guide and line jumping privileges. It was AMAZING!

Today, its back to reality. I am getting myself prepared for port placement and my first treatment in the next couple of days. So, all your prayers are coveted. Please pray for financial provision, because I am still not cleared to work. Please pray for both of my grandmothers who are recovering from a car accident. Please remember to also pray for the gals I met in the makeup class, who are facing repeat treatment, and everyone else who has been touched by this horrible disease. 

Although reality is tough sometimes, we are never alone. We are all in this cancer fight together.May we all be reminded to cherish each second and to love one another.