NOVEMBER 29, 2012

Xeloda

I'll admit - I've tried to convince myself that Xeloda isn't chemo.  I've used all sorts of terminology to convince myself that maintenance is easier than IV chemo, that it's less harmful, that it's no worse than taking a vitamin or supplement.

*sigh*

As I finish up with this third round of Xeloda (today is the last day of this round of pills), I'm starting to see some of the side effects kick in.  Luckily, it's nothing like when I was on IV chemo.  However, I think I had talked myself into believing that I wouldn't have any side effects from this.  Realizing that I was lying to myself makes me feel dumb.

The nausea has been minimal - once I figured out that I needed to eat a decent amount of food prior to taking the pills (and making sure that I took the Ginger supplement), I was able to keep the nausea down.  It kicks up every once in a while, but I've got that part of it figured out for now.  I've been diligent about the hand/foot symptoms, and making sure that I'm constantly vigilant about hand washing and moisturizing.  And, I will say, on a very vain note, keeping my feet moisturized and covered at night has cut down on the dry skin on my feet.  A nice side effect in the winter, if I do say so myself.  :)

So, what are some of these new issues I'm dealing with?  Well, there's a couple.  As I said in my post yesterday, I'm much more susceptible to getting colds, etc.  I've been very against getting the flu shot, but I'm going to ask my doctor about it tomorrow when I go in.  Given the fact that I'm not able to fight things off as well, I'm thinking it might be worth looking into.

In and of itself, this is hard.  I am being forced to rethink many of my decision regarding my health (specifically around my expectations of my body, my ability to fight off colds, viruses, etc.) and will have to really change the way I approach social situations.  I can't just take for granted that my body is going to be able to fight off every cold, virus, and infection that my kids bring home.

Damn it.  Now I have to plan better.  Say no to events if/when I'm not feeling 100%.  Make sure I don't forget that I'm not Super Woman.  *grrr*

Okay - so, while I'm reeling from that realization (which I clearly don't care for), let's also talk about some of the other fun things that are popping up.  Trouble sleeping - I'm still on the Ambien to help me sleep/get to sleep at night, but I tried to cut back on the dosage by cutting the pills in half.  I was waking up fairly dopey (moreso than normal...), and had hoped that this would help.  Instead, I'm waking up at least once each night (usually around 2pm...), and sometimes, I'm up several times.  I'll be talking with the doctor tomorrow about this, too.

Hair loss - based on the itchiness in my scalp, I'm thinking that my new-found funky hairdo is going to be short-lived.  Xeloda is an oral form of 5-FU, and one of the side effects can be thinning hair.  I lost about 1/2-2/3 of my hair when I was on Folfox back in 2008, and looking back on pictures from earlier this year, I definitely had thinning of the hair, in spite of the shaved head.  It makes sense that I would have some hair thinning with this new chemo.  Which, when I think about it, kind of sucks.  But, I'll survive. 

Hello, funkiness....

We'll see how this goes.  It's definitely thicker than it was the last time I shaved it, and I have had to get a hair cut (about two weeks ago) to keep the shagginess down to a minimum.  I've had to learn how to style it again, how to schedule said styling (all 5 minutes of it) into my morning routine....and, it's been kind of fun.  I've been toying with the idea of dying my hair again, and how can I style it once it grows out a bit more, etc. I'm going to hold off on those ideas for now.  We'll see how this goes.  Meantime, I'm digging the short style.    We'll see how long it lasts.

Appetite - my desire for food comes and goes.  My tastes change, almost daily.  I have a new aversion to tomato-based sauces, which is odd.  I can't eat the marinara sauce I make for my family, and any tomato-based soups have an almost metallic taste to them.  I'm not happy about this.  And, my overall desire for food isn't there.

Part of this is due to the fact that I have another new side effect - GI issues.  I'll spare you the details; suffice it to say that right now, fresh fruits and veggies don't exactly agree with me, and each day, I'm struggling to find foods that won't upset my tummy.  This sucks, because I really want nothing more than to keep eating my salads, fruits, veggies with hummus, etc.  But, alas, they all cause issues that don't need to be discussed on a blog that my co-workers are reading.  :)

Yesterday, I finally remembered that I had a protein shake mix in the pantry, and made myself a chocolate peanut butter protein shake.  That worked well, so I may do that again today.  Hey - it's not perfect, but it helps, and right now, that makes me happy.

I'm dealing with a lot of emotional instability right now (read: mood swings), and I'm not sure if that's from the chemo, or from the fact that I'm trying to balance everything.  I am going to see a therapist at CTCA today; I think working with someone will help me sort through the mess that's in my head, and help me deal better with, well, everything. I have a lot on my mind, and sometimes, it's completely, utterly, depressingly overwhelming.  Don't get me wrong - I'm optimistic and glad to be alive; it's just that some days, what's weighing on me seems too much for one person to bear.  So, I'm seeking out someone who can help me get through it.  I hope.

I think the biggest thing that I'm struggling with right now is that I so badly want to get back to living life normally, and I can't.  I am still very much dealing with the emotional baggage that this diagnosis has brought, along with the fact that I'm trying to balance work, home life, and cancer.  It's not easy.  It's actually one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.  When I went through this last time and I finished chemo, I was done.  Yes, I had routine check-ups, but they were every 3 months or so.  This time, I have to remember my Xeloda, all the meds that go along with that, 6 week check-ups, what week of this round am I on....it's a lot. The thing with this is that, as much as I want it all to be over, it isn't.  I don't know that it ever will be.  My cancer is going to be a part of my life for the rest of my life.  I need to remember that, and embrace it.

I read and shared something on facebook yesterday that spoke to me.  It said: "Cancer does not define me, but how I live and fight with cancer DOES define me."

Holy hell - talk about speaking the truth.  My cancer does not define me.  It is but a part of who I am.  Yes, it's indelibly changed the person I am, in side and out, physically and emotionally.  It's made me realize what I am capable of, who I want to be, and who I want to be remembered as.  It has torn me down in ways that I could never have imagined.  It has made me weaker than I've ever thought a person could be.  However, it has shown me that I am a LOT stronger than I realized.  It has forced me to look at the world differently.  It has given me an appreciation for life in general, and for all of the beauty that it holds.  Cancer has shown me death, life, illness, health, fear, hope, faith, love, untouchable heartbreak, and amazingly uplifting miracles.  I have seen it tear families apart, and I have seen it create new families.

A person does not need to be defined by their cancer.  Rather, we need to look at the whole person, and how their diagnosis not only affects them physically, but emotionally as well.  I'm not sure how we do this, but it needs to happen.  There are many organizations out there that look at some of these pieces, but I don't think I've found a single organization yet that has wholly and completely considered that the emotional component of a diagnosis like this is just as vital as the physical piece.  I think there are several that are heading that way, which makes me feel like we are on the right path. I'm excited to see where the next several years takes this, and how I can be a part of this movement.

I just realized that I'm totally off-topic from the title of this blog posting, so I'll end here.

Comments:

Natteringnic said...

Fab post...as always. I love your writing and your ability to convey emotion.

Ottawa has a new addition to the cancer fight - the Maplesoft Centre. Its mandate is to pretty much take care of everything a cancer survivor, and their family, need beyond the medicine. If you're looking for a template to share with "the poweres that be" in your area, it might be worth sharing. https://survivorship.ottawacancer.ca/main.jsf

November 29, 2012 at 9:44 AM

 Carol Pack Urban said...

I agree and understand everything you said! I remember being told not to eat any fresh fruits and veggies while on chemo as it most likely would give me dia-hoo-hoo. I do remember my feet and hands turning bright red, burning and peeling. Xeloda was awful for me but I was on that clinical trial. Your hair looks really cute!

November 29, 2012 at 2:53 PM

NOVEMBER 28, 2012

Another new normal...

As I continue on this journey, one thing becomes blatantly clear.  Normal is relative. 

Every few weeks, I seem to have something that reminds me of this fact.  Sometimes, it's a notification on my phone, reminding me to take my Xeloda.  This week, it was a reminder that I have my 6-week check-up with my oncologist.  And, this damn chest cold that's plaguing me.

Apparently, this chemo has compromised my immune system enough that I'm going to get sick.  All the time.

*sigh*

I'm usually pretty good about staying healthy (which is funny, when you think about the fact that I have stage 4 cancer).  I wash my hands, and make sure the kids do the same thing.  Generally, preventative measures have worked in the past, but with an immune system that's compromised (as mine is), I'm finding that I need to be much more diligent.  And, even then, I'm going to get sick.

This week brings yet another chest cold.  I went into CTCA on Monday for a massage, and my therapist heard my voice and insisted that I go up to the IM clinic to be evaluated.  The IM clinic is kind of like a non-oncology urgent care, in that I wouldn't go there for an issue with my cancer, but I'll go there for things like colds, etc.  They have access to my medical records and can see what I'm on, what I've been on, and how I've responded to things in the past.  I can't tell you how nice it is to be able to go into a place and NOT have to retell my story again and again....they have the records, and they don't make me repeat the story.

Anyways, the folks in the clinic were amazing, had me in and out in under 10 minutes, and I'm now on fairly strong antibiotics (Augmentin), Mucinex DM, and a nasal spray.  I'm glad I went in when I did, because I can feel my body getting weaker and fighting this.  I think if I had waited, I would be in big trouble.

Lesson learned - go in to see the docs before it gets too bad.  Prevention is the key here, apparently.

One thing I learned from the cold I was fighting a few weeks ago is that recovery is a lot less swift than I remember it being.  I know why - my body is not only compromised from the chemo, it's also battling this cold thing.  I get it - I don't like it, but I get it.  I want to be better NOW, not days from now.  So, once again, I need to remember to be patient.

I'm just glad it's being taken care of this week - I would be pissed if I got sick next week, before Vegas.  :)  Priorities, people.

Med-onc follow-up with Dr. Granick this week.  Another reminder that this is my new normal.  I'm getting anxious about the blood work.  I have no reason to be anxious - I just am.  I'll feel better once I have confirmation that we are still on the right path.  Hoping that we can get this blasted port out before Christmas.  That would be awesome.

I had a friend hit me up on facebook yesterday, asking if I have the same concerns whenever I have a cough, lump, rash, etc. - their mind always goes to "It must be a recurrence."  They asked if I had the same concerns.

You bet your ass I do.

How could you not?  I know that other survivors have the same concerns.  You want to be joyous about being done with actively fighting, and yet, you can't help but wonder when the other foot is going to drop, so to speak.  I am always worried.  My cough must be another recurrence in my lungs.  Any issues with my GI system must mean another tumor in my colon.  A pain in my back must mean mets to my bones (which isn't common with colon cancer).  It's never ending.  The key is to balance your concerns with the fact that you can't control it.  You can control how you react, and how you live well in whatever time you have left here.

And, that's another new normal.  I thought I got it last time.  I thought I understood the fragility of life, and really lived my life.  I totally get it now.  (Dear Universe: Please note this down - I don't need any more lessons.  I'm good, thanks!)

Because of this, I'm in a different place than I was 5 years ago.  Hell, I'm in a different place than I was this time last year.  I know this has changed me, in ways I'm just beginning to realize.  It has shifted my priorities, my life expectations, my understanding of where I fit into the world and where I want to fit into the world.  It's shifted my (in)ability to tolerate drama and ignorance and the non-essentials.  I get frustrated when people focus on the small things, and forget to be grateful for what we have.  I find joy in the things most people take for granted - laughter, smiles, sunsets, hugs, dancing, music....

I seek out happiness.  Purposefully, and energetically.  I want to live life blissfully.  I want to cut out all the noise and really, truly focus on making my life my own.

I was talking with another parent a few days ago, and she told me that she didn't know how I was able to go though all of this and still smile.  It stopped me for a moment.

To me, it isn't an option.  Well, there is an option.  I can sit around, ponder why this happened to me, have a pity party, and mourn my life.  That's not the choice I made.  On a daily basis, I choose to enjoy my life.  I choose to celebrate what I've been given, and to take the lemons life has handed me and make one hell of a lemonade.

I mentioned to this parent that everyday, the choices I make are (partially) determined by the fact that my kids watch me, and mimic what I do.  If I show them that you can take whatever life throws at you and still have a good life, then I'm teaching them to make the best of a situation.  And, that's something I'll be proud of.

So, this new normal?  We are all still adjusting to it.  I don't know that I've fully got my head around what this means.  I'm learning so much about myself on a daily basis.  I feel like, each day, I have a new revelation that  surprises me and makes me take stock of who I am.  It forces me to look at everything I've known, experienced, felt, done.  I don't know where I'm headed, or what the future is going to hold, but I'm here.  For now, that's enough.

It's a process, isn't it?  This getting-to-know-yourself.  Hmmm....

NOVEMBER 15, 2012

My favorite time of the year....mostly...

We are coming up (way too quickly) on what has always been my favorite time of the year.  The next 6-8 weeks are just awesome.  They are full of hope and spirit and wonder and love and friendship (and good food) and amazing memories.  Christmas music is playing all around us - yes, I'm one of those that will have it on in my car *all the time*.  Charlie Brown's Christmas, Rudolph, Frosty and Santa Claus are television specials that I have on DVD, but MUST be watched on television, interrupted by commercials for stuff I don't need and advertisements that make me cry with their sappy sentimentality.

Yes.  This is my favorite time of the year.

It hit me this weekend that this holiday season will be special.  They all are - honestly, I'm like a little kid when people start putting their lights up and I can finally put my tree up.  But, this year?  Yeah - it's going to be very emotional.  I saw my first Christmas commercial this past weekend - it was a Folger's commercial where the son comes home from West Africa and his sister greets him at the door.  They make coffee, waking Mom and Dad up from their sleep, and Mom and Dad come down into the kitchen just in time for the heart-warming moment where sister tells brother that he is her Christmas gift.

***tear***

I've seen this commercial a bazillion times.  And, just about every time, it makes me tear up.  This year, though?  Woah.  I wasn't prepared for the emotional reaction.

It makes sense, when I think about it.  The past 8 months have been kind of a blur - the rediagnosis came on so quickly, and we went from "What's for dinner next week?" to "When's my next chemo?" in what seemed to be a heartbeat.  I/we never had time to really deal with the emotional turmoil that accompanies any kind of diagnosis like this.

This has been on my mind lately.  I remember that in 2008, during my original battle, the physical fight came first.  And, while that was hard, I think it was even more difficult to deal with the emotional battle once I was done actively fighting.  I think it's a mentality that a lot of folks don't give much thought to.

The physical battle is something you have to dedicate everything to.  You have to shift your entire life to accommodate the schedule, the doctor's appointments, the chemo and recovery, etc.  You go into fight mode, and (for me), I didn't allow myself to feel the emotions associated with the diagnosis.  Once I was done actively fighting (meaning, I was done with chemotherapy), I had to get back to real life and to figure out what that meant for me.

I have heard it referred to as PTSD, and while I don't want to take away from anyone else's situation (when I think of PTSD, I think of those that have been in combat), I do think it's fairly accurate.

To some extent, I'm going through the same thing again.  Now that I'm done actively fighting (no more IV chemo.....hopefully, ever again), I'm trying to get back to life.  I'm trying to balance my full-time job, the kids, the house, our finances (which are struggling at best right now, even with the generous help of others), mounting medical bills that are piling up, and just learning where I fit back into things.  There have been some issues at home that have popped up that have been brewing for a while, and we are trying to figure those out.  The emotional toll those are taking is overwhelming and undeniable.

There is also always this fear of recurrence.  Now that it's happened, I'm much more aware of how fickle the cancer can be, and how prevalent the worry is in my mind.  Every twinge, every cough, every ache leads to the inevitable question.....what if?  I try not to let it rule my life, but how do I make sure that I'm balancing the understanding and awareness with making sure I don't let it rule my life.

I realize I'm babbling.  Sorry.  This wasn't where I planned to go with this when I logged in, but there you go.

I really don't think that many people consider this when they look at a patient who's in remission, or who's no longer actively fighting.  There is an expectation on the part of everyone (including the survivor) that life will just fall back into place, right where you left off.  If you were working when you were diagnosed, you should be able to go right back to work full-time.  You should be able to pick up housework, shuttling kids, and helping with homework as usual.

Friends, family, the medical community - I don't think most people realize how hard it is for us as survivors to try to find where we belong and how we fit back into the "normal" world.  A cancer diagnosis fundamentally changes who you are, how you look at the world, how you view yourself, how you view others.

Hell - I don't think the survivors realize how hard it's going to be.

My re-diagnosis this time around made me really evaluate my life, and what I'm doing with it.  Who am I?  How has this changed me?  How has this changed my relationship with (quite honestly) everyone?  Where do I want to be?  How do I want to spend whatever time I have left here?  What kind of person do I want to be remembered as?  How do I want to be viewed by others?  How can I make sure that I live life the way I want to, not the way others expect me to?

Lots of questions, and not a whole lot of answers.

**********************************************

I've been doing a LOT of thinking lately.  I'll have a thought, and it will progress into something else, and eventually, it's three hours later and I still don't have any answers.  I'm trying to figure things out, and it isn't easy.  Blogging helps.  Lets me work through things in my mind.

I'm looking forward to next week....we will be spending the holiday with friends, and I'm hoping to take the kids to a parade on Friday night.  I'll probably put up the Christmas tree, and decorate the house.  I love watching the kids put ornaments on the tree - Kevin ends up putting them all in the same spot on the tree, and I try to redistribute them slowly, without him noticing.  I am usually unsuccessful, as he notices everything.  Julia loves talking about the ornaments....whose they were, where they came from.  It's awesome.

This weekend is the Undy 5000 - I'm sure it's going to be super-emotional.  5 years ago, I was in a wheelchair, three days out of chemo.  This time, I've beaten cancer again, and I'll be celebrating with Team Mission: Remission.  I have a good sized team, and I think we will represent you all proudly.  I can't wait to post pictures. 

NOVEMBER 7, 2012

Vegas Connections?

Anyone have connections in Vegas?  Looking for hotel room(s) near Mandalay Bay Dec 8-10.  Hoping to drive there, but also willing to look at inexpensive (i.e., cheap) flight/hotel combos.

Figured it was worth asking....  :)

Comments:

Mrs. Buv said...

I tagged you the other day on FB. My SIL is/was trying to give you a free flight. :)

November 7, 2012 at 11:59 AM

 Stephanie said...

Michelle,
I was researching CTCA because I have a job interview there. Fate brought me to your blog. I have been reading it for the past hour and you are an amazing woman. I don't know you, but I live in Phoenix and I LOVE NKOTB!! I will be praying for you. Stay strong. You will beat this.

November 9, 2012 at 1:35 PM

NOVEMBER 5, 2012

No words....

I have had a week to remember.  Earlier this week, I took my trip to Chicago to speak at the Board Meeting of Cancer Treatment Centers of America.  I'll post about that in a bit.  Suffice it to say, it was an amazing trip that will have an impact on who I am, and how I work against this disease.  We left on Wednesday, came home Thursday night, and were exhausted.  Friday, I ended up getting tickets to the Eric Church concert, so I called Lisa and she met me in Glendale.  That man can rock a serious concert - you want a good fusion of country and rock?  Check him out.

Saturday was the day I've been waiting on for years.  I finally got to meet Rodney Atkins.  It was a heck of a road to get there, and now that it's over, I still can't believe it happened.  And, I'm really surprised at the emotions that this triggered.

Saturday night, from start to finish, was amazing.  I was able to drag Lisa, Alyssa, Danielle, and Karena with me, and Gina met us out.   The concert was General Admission, so I wanted to get there early.  We did (too early, which won't surprise people that know me), and we ended up hanging out on the patio of the bar.  If you ever have the chance to venture up to the Cave Creek area, and especially to Harold's Corral, I'd highly recommend it!

Hanging on the patio!

L-R, Lisa, Karena, me, Danielle, Alyssa

Karena and I

While we were waiting, we started chatting with some other folks, and made new friends!  I know this is shocking, that I would talk with strangers and make friends.  I'm such an introvert.  *snort*

Spenser was a super nice guy who introduced us to his friends (many of them servicemen), and it was a pleasure to get to know them all.  Such gentlemen....they took care of us and made sure that we were safe all night.  Hugs, guys!  Thanks for all that you do!  

After a few drinks, it was time to get the party started....Meet and Greet Time.  Gina made it there just in time, so the six of us headed into the concert area and, after some frantic moments, made it to the line.  As they queued us up, we saw Rodney, waiting for it all to start.  And, almost passed out.   

I knew that I would likely tear up when I met him.  I knew it was going to be difficult to see him and not cry as I thanked him. I figured it would be a few tears on my part, maybe a quick hug as he shooed this crazy fan away, and that would be it.  

It was so much more than I could have ever imagined.  

As I stood there, I looked at where I was.  It hit me - I beat cancer.  Twice.  Part of the reason is the strength Rodney has given me through his music.  Not just *my song*....I listen to his music, and it gives me an escape from everything I'm going through.  I looked at my girls, and broke down.  I just broke down.  Once I recovered, I thought - hey!  Now, I can meet him and not blubber.

Ha.  I am so funny.

We worked our way through the line, and it was time.  My amazing friends stood back as I approached Rodney.  I walked up, reached to shake his hand, and introduced myself.  He looked at me, smiled, and grabbed me in a huge bear hug.  

He just held me, and I started sobbing.  I couldn't help it.  Even sitting here, typing this, I'm tearing up.  It was so damn emotional.  To have him know who I am...the look of understanding and recognition and caring was something I will never, ever forget.  

I don't know how long we stood there.  He would pull back, look at me, and hug me again.  It was....wow.  

.

This is me, trying to wipe my eyes and compose myself as he signed the picture they handed out.  

I don't know if I can tell you what I said to Rodney, or everything that he said to me.  I did bring him a Mission: Remission tee shirt, and he took it with a smile.  I know that we took WAY longer than intended, and I hope I didn't make anyone behind me angry.  But, I fought like hell to get here; I wasn't going to waste this moment.  

Happy, happy girl...

This is my favorite photo from Saturday night.  This man has my heart....I just adore him.  He is just a gentleman, and I couldn't be more proud to know him.  To me, he represents everything that I love about country music.  

The next few photos were official ones taken by the radio station that hosted the concert, 102.5 KNIX Country.  

He was so huggable!  :)

Karena and Rodney.  He said she smelled good.  She's not allowed to come with me anymore.  LOL!  

Gina, Rodney and me.  We met Daughtry together; it only seemed right that we meet Rodney together, too.  

Rodney and some of Team Mission: Remission....this picture makes my heart SO DAMN HAPPY!  

Once we finally left the meet-and-greet area, we headed to the concert area to find the best "seat".  The tickets I had were general admission standing, so we needed to worm our way into a good spot.  We did, and waited for the concert to start.

He came on stage, and the rest is kind of a blur.  I don't remember exactly how it all played out, but Gina and I crossed the fence into VIP territory to get closer.  After Gina, Lisa and Karena had some conversations with security and with the ticket holders (and despite my initial protests), I ended up front row, center stage.  Are you KIDDING me?  

Harley, our friend in security that hooked me up...S'up, dude?  

Once I got up front, Rodney saw me, and sang to me.  Well, he was singing, and he looked at me.  But, when he sang certain lyrics and looked at me, like "...giving this life everything we've got and then some..." - yeah.  He was totally singing to me.  

More pictures from KNIX of the show...

Do you see that look?  Yeah....melts my heart!

  

All I'm going to say is, thank goodness for cowboys in tight jeans...

When I was talking to Rodney, I asked him if he was going to sing my song.  He gave me a look, and then smiled. 

*grin*

Last song.  Someone in the band played the first few notes, and that was it.  I knew.  MY SONG!  I jumped up and down and screamed and yelled and....then, he came down into the pit and handed me the microphone.  

I got to sing my song with Rodney.  Oh.  My.  God.  

"If You're Going Through Hell" - I made it.  I made it through.  

In shock!

And, just like that, it was over.  I'm still in awe.  I look at these pictures, and my heart skips a beat.  I just can't believe that, after four and a half years of dreaming about maybe, maybe someday being able to thank him, it's over.  

Or, is it?  

Sunday morning, as I looked through the pictures and the comments and the emails, I was a mess.  I was tearing up at the drop of a hat.  I found out that Hope (dear Hope, whom I've never met and yet, I think is amazing!) and Rodney were texting about me on Saturday night.  (I'm just hoping it wasn't along the lines of....yes, I met that crazy fan...)  Also found out that he's going to be in Vegas in December....

So, if you remember back when I was originally diagnosed, I declared that my remission party would be in Vegas?  Yeah.....it's time.  

Why was I crying on Sunday?  I think that Saturday was, for me, the culmination of the past four-plus years.  

I know it's silly and ridiculous and crazy, but, in my mind, meeting Rodney and getting to thank him in person was a goal I set.  I don't think it was a conscious thing, but it's something I have looked forward to for years.  I just wanted to have a few moments of his time to say, thanks.  I had to keep fighting because I needed to say thanks.  Over the past 6 months, I've gotten so much more than that, and I never expected to have all of this *pointing to pics above* happen.  Saturday night, I lived.  Over the past week, I've lived the HELL out of my life.  And, I'm just getting started.

Maybe that's it.  I feel like I have been given another lease on life.  I feel like this is the start of the rest of my life.  I feel an almost physical push to get out there, to do the things that I want to do.  I feel an obligation to me, to my doctors, my family....I fought the physical battle to live life.  Now, I need to fight some emotional ones (more on that later), and to get to living.  

***************************************************

Rodney - thank you for making this girl's dreams come true.  I'll see you in Vegas...

Hope - thank you for helping make this night a reality.  I can't wait until Vegas, to finally hug you and thank you in person.  You inspire me.  Daily.

Lisa, Alyssa, Danielle, Karena, and Gina - thank you for being part of my life.  Saturday night will be one I remember forever, even when I'm 97 years old and don't remember my name.  I will remember that night.  I'm so grateful to have you all in my life.  

To the rest of you, thanks for joining me on this crazy journey.  

Comments:

Kristi H said...

OK.. so you made me cry tears of joy!!! I am so happy for you!!! My granny always said, "Good things come to those who wait..."
Soooo glad you had such an awesome time!!! You deserve it girlfriend.

November 5, 2012 at 5:52 PM

 Amanda: said...

Ah-ma-zing. Thank you for sharing that, you cancer beating rockstar, you :)

Geeked you had a great time.

November 5, 2012 at 5:59 PM