depression worries me and Farrah inspires me

I deleted my post from Thursday about going back on disability. Those of you who read the blog through the RSS feed (direct emails) got a chance to see my thoughts. I deleted it because I was worried about any fallout from discussing the job in a negative way.

(shrug)

I didn't say anything bad, but I was pretty emotional when I wrote it and I didn't take time to reflect on how I was feeling and the best way to approach the matter.

Bottomline, I'm back on disability. I was sent home on Thursday because the people in my office didn't think I was doing so well.

Now that I've had time to think about it and reflect -- and also consider the sudden death of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's death after fighting cancer for 3 years -- I have calmed down. The truth is that sometimes other people see you in ways that you cannot see yourself. I live in a bubble of sorts... I'm surrounded by people who love me and want to see me survive and thrive through this latest challenge. So, to hear from strangers (over the phone) and hear that people who only vaguely know me (my co-workers) that they are worried about my abilities... really was devastating.

Lately, I've been very concerned with my emotional health. Not that I feel like I'm doing very poorly emotionally, but some days I do struggle. Some days, it is HARD, hard, hard. I am not as angry as I was months back but the sadness... it is always pretty close by. And that frightens me.

Although I wasn't exactly thrilled with my job after I returned (things were very different)... it did get me out of the house and among other people. Being put back on short-term disability felt like being pushed back down a staircase you've worked to climb. I've been kicking myself, asking myself what I could have done differently, done better. And I don't know. There's always something that I think I can improve upon. I wonder if I'm too hard, not hard enough... am I doing this right?

There are no easy answers.

True to myself... I did a quick search for depression and breast cancer and also suicide and breast cancer. (yes, I did) I had to see for myself what was out there, what others have dealt with and gone through just to see where I fell on the scale.

I was mortified to learn that black women breast cancer survivors are almost 3 times more likely to commit suicide than other survivors. This includes a period of up to 25 years beyond breast cancer.

Wow.

Now, to put things in perspective, the number is relatively small considering the number of women who have to handle breast cancer... so its not like we're talking about an epidemic. But there is definitely a reported number of women who struggle with depression during and after breast cancer. And a small number of those women end up committing suicide.

Its a frightening thought.

I looked up depression because the fear of depression coming into my life scares me deeply. And the emotions that bubbled up on Thursday reminded me of a darker period in my life. I needed to head it off at the pass.

Naturally there are lots of reasons/contributing factors to the depression that are directly linked to breast cancer treatments -- including taking tamoxifen for hormonal treatments.

Arrrghhh... is there ever an easy answer, an easy choice on this journey?

Right this moment, I am trying to motivate myself to go to a birthday party tonight. Earlier this week, I really wanted to go. Now, I'm not sure. But then... after reading about depression and suicide and breast cancer -- I feel like I need to force myself out of the house and interact with people.

I think I'm going to go. I need to mingle among other people and laugh and feel free for a little while. I refuse to go down into the pit of depression.

Re-

Fuse.


Farrah Fawcett has never been a "hero" of mine. Well, maybe when I was a little girl and she was one of "Charlie's Angels". But generally speaking, I've only thought of her as "fluff"... pretty much the way I consider most entertainers. Though I didn't get to see her documentary her death touched me deeply. Every time I learn about another cancer death, it affects my mood and my spirit. Farrah's death actually has been more difficult for me than Michael Jackson's death. Because I know that she has exercised a lot of faith, a lot of courage and a lot of strength just to live to June 2009.

This has been an emotional and difficult week. Dealing with the death of others always makes us loook at our own lives and wonder about our mortality. Farrah had a rare form of cancer and she fought, fought and fought some more against it. In the end, she was frail and in pain... but she still fought. I admire that kind of strength. I don't know if I have it or not... but I certainly hope so.

The faith to keep trusting doctors, the faith to keep trying new treatments, the courage to get on planes and fly between countries looking for answers, the faith and the courage to say yes to the marriage proposal of Ryan O'Neal...the courage to keep smiling, and keep filming... through the pain and through the knowledge that the end was near.

Today Farrah is definitely my hero.

If I had enough hair, I would rock the "Farrah flip" in her honor. But instead, I will put on some snazzy trousers and some heels and go to this party like nothing's bothering me and my body is in perfect health.

being uncomfortable with vulnerability

I have trust and commitment issues.

There. Its out in the open for all to see and to comment. I've been working on it --on my perspective about love and relationships for awhile now. And until recently, I thought I had made good progress. But today, I'm back at zero -- wondering how to have faith in someone else. Faith that they understand what it means to love someone, what it means to be a family. And I'm wondering if its really possible to risk everything on loving (and marrying) someone.

Lately, all sorts of information has been coming my way and shaking my faith in love and in people. I want to get married one day, and have a family. At least in theory. But wow... marriage is a scary concept if you marry the wrong person. You could lose EVERYTHING, including your health or your kid's health.

In the best of situations, love is risky and scary. But having cancer, and having one boobie... isn't the best of situations. I would list all my ailments and issues but the specifics don't matter. What matters is that I'm a vulnerable sister right now. And I think about love a lot.

Thinking about the wedding yesterday and the faith that it takes to agree to marry someone and stick with them -- come hell or high water -- has consumed me today. Like everyone else, I know many people who are living in miserable marriages or going through traumatic divorces. My heart aches for them.

People in love seem to have an innate ability to practically cut the heart out of the person they love, if they are angry with them. No one can hurt you more than the person you love. I've been hearing some tragic stories of love gone bad. People losing their homes, finding out that their spouses are sleeping around or sleeping with prostitutes, and so forth... scary, scary stuff.

None of us are perfect. And even though our intentions aren't usually to hurt someone else, sometimes in trying to take care of self we stomp all over our loved one's feelings. I've done that and its a hurtful feeling knowing that you've hurt someone who loved you. But its worse when you're the one who has been trampled on.

In a tenuous economic time like now, and when I'm physically not at my best and somewhat reliant on other people to be at their best or at least true to their word... the notion of love is a very daunting one. I find myself questioning how anyone finds the strength to be vulnerable to another person. How do you risk losing everything in order to love and be loved by someone else?

I know there are no easy answers. And I know logically that the real answer is that you have faith. Faith in God, faith in love itself. But my heart... my heart is screaming that its just not possible. I go back to my question from a few months ago -- who's gonna love the cancer girl? And more importantly...will they be able to stand by their word and stick by my side?

I'm still thinking about Fran's death. Her husband was by her side all the way to the end. Even after he lost his job and found out that his wife's cancer had returned... he was by her side. Rubbing her feet, sitting with her at the hospital. Every day. Love like that -- love in action -- is rare.

Knowing that you are dying of breast cancer has to be devastating. But watching your wife/loved one dying of breast cancer and CHOOSING to be there anyway, every day, no matter what... that's incredible. That's strength. That's love.

misuse of the "cancer card"

I spent the evening at a very lovely wedding of a good friend. Weddings are tricky for me because I hate going to "couple" events solo. But, I almost always end up in that predicament. (shrug) What's a single girl to do?

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to witness the union of my friend and watch her joy and happiness. And since I am on a mission to continue to push myself out of my comfort zone -- and spend time among the living -- it was a good way to spend the day.

I've been to many weddings in my day. For awhile, I was on a wedding-fast. But I've since gotten over that (gotten over myself really) and feel privileged and honored when asked to share in a couple's magical moment of wedded bliss. Generally speaking, I love and enjoy just about everything about a wedding... except the bouquet toss.

I've been "single" all my life. And no matter how many times I have been called to participate in the bouquet toss, it never gets any easier to stroll to the front of the assembly and let it be known that yes, I am single and yes, I do hope to get married... someday to someone. So much so... that I will (in my good clothes and high heels) momentarily "fight" another sister (actually a group of sisters) for the opportunity to grab some good fortune in love and be the one who wins the bouquet toss.

Lots of good intentions... I'm sure that the bride wants her single friends to experience the love and devotion she's feeling on that day. But, for the forever single (like me) it just feels like more of a bulls-eye on my chest. Honestly speaking... I tend to sit out the bouquet toss. Good intentions aside.

It was my intention to sit out the bouquet toss tonight. I was a little tired. The day had gone long AND I walked around in 4 inch heels all day. I wasn't exhausted, but I had definitely lost a little pep in my step. Imagine the look on my face when I heard my name (FULL NAME-first and last) announced on the microphone to come to the front for the bouquet toss. My "date"... another good girlfriend, was called out too.

We were stunned. Had to laugh at the shock of it. But the classic moment of hilarity was when the maid of honor (another friend) came all the way to the back of the room to get us for the bouquet toss... and I tried to use the "cancer card".

As smooth as you please, when the maid of honor told us we had to come to the front... I tried to play my hand.

"I'm not going up there. I have cancer. I am tired."

I know. I know. I should be ashamed of myself.

It was a blatant MIS-USE of the cancer card. My "date" looked so shocked when I said it. She fell out laughing when the maid of honor replied...

"I don't give a damn about your cancer. You have been summoned to the front, so get to stepping". And then she stood there, mean mugging me, daring me NOT to get up and participate in the fun. Only a real friend would call you out like that. :)

My cancer card was soundly (and quickly) rejected. And it should have been. I was being a punk. And would have missed out on a happy memory had I remained hidden in my seat at the back of the room. After it was over, I was glad that I did it. That quick moment made me feel like a part of the day, instead of just a witness.

I didn't catch the bouquet (not too surprising). BUT... the maid of honor did. It was a set-up, and a good one. I smiled all the way home thinking about it. Karma is something else. :)

Tick Tock Time Management

I am continuously running into this issue. To work (or apply for jobs for many of you out there), to volunteer, to have fun, to relax... how to keep this all straight and remain sane?!

The point is, as a mid-twenties-er trying to make a name for myself and figure out where I want to go and be, I find keeping up my momentum is the biggest key to success (yes, I just used the phrase "key to success"...enter vomit).

Sure, on a Tuesday night, I am tempted by the cheese-bucket reality TV my roommates are watching on the boob. Sure, at least 30 percent of the time I give into the temptation to slouch on into my new comfy couches and go numb for a while.

My more important point: Don't deny that YOU DO have the time to fit in SOME form of volunteering on, say, a bi-weekly basis (minimum).

Better yet... Your enthusiasm will motivate me and the others around you to do something interesting. And let's face it, we could all use a little more excitement in our (actual) lives.

let's talk about cancer and money

As I type this, laying flat on my back with a heat pack on my neck/back... I am thinking about all the other devastating ways that cancer ruins lives. I just read a financial blog posting about bankruptcy   and cancer and it forced me to think.

Its not enough to have a disease that could kill you, and its not enough to have treatments for the disease that make you feel like you're dying... cancer rips apart relationships by putting more strain on them than they can handle. Cancer also wrecks your financial future because the cost of treatment is enormous. If you're fortunate enough to have insurance through your job, the hit may be minimal. If you're not so lucky, or if you have to supplement your insurance with state/federal assistance... not only will you have to suck up your pride and grow some patience to get through the madness... you will be stuck with huge HUGE medical bills.

The number 1 reason for bankruptcy in this country is CANCER-related medical bills. At my last chemotherapy session, there was a gentleman sitting beside me who was paying for his treatment himself. I overheard the administrator talking to him about it when he asked how much his treatment cost for that day. I nearly fainted when she said that the total was over $16,000! For one day of treatment, almost twenty thousand dollars. Keeping in mind, depending on your cancer treatment you may need anywhere from 4 infusions to 20. Can you imagine? He asked about discounts for different things but he didn't qualify for any reduced prices because he wasn't using insurance. While insurance is helpful for all of us with it, insurance pays a reduced rate for the procedures, medications and treatments. For example, my chemotherapy infusions cost my insurance company $5000 each treatment. (just the infusion) Whereas this gentleman was going to pay triple that amount. Assuming that we were receiving similar treatments (from a financial perspective)... that's a drastic difference.

I don't know how they (the man and his wife) paid. He seemed stoic and calm when the administrator was talking to him. The wife seemed much more nervous. I wasn't involved and I wanted to cry.

And that's just treatment. The other things that people don't tell you about is that once you find out that you have cancer, you need to change your entire life basically. What you eat, what you drink, what you bathe with... what lotions you use, what you use on your teeth... depending on where your cancer is... your clothing is different, maybe your teeth are affected and so on. EVERYTHING is different after the day you learn that you have cancer.

I'm going to talk about something really "silly" but important for me. Bras. As many of you know, before cancer I was spending a small fortune on my lingerie because my breasts were much larger than average. And since I'm a girl who fully appreciates and expects luxury... I bought the best and prettiest lingerie I could find in my size. That meant that while many sisters were scooping up deals at Victoria Secret's for $20 or less for a bra, Nicole was spending $100+ for one bra. I bitched and moaned about it to myself but it was my reality so I accepted it.

Fast forward to now. I can't wear the bras I used to wear. Not because of the size - I have a prosthesis that I could put into the regular bra to wear. But because of the underwire. Bras created for larger-breasted women almost always have underwire in them to provide support. I've been told that there are bras for larger breasts without underwire - though honestly, I haven't seen any yet.

I cannot wear underwire because its too constricting for my chest. Since the surgery, some of my chest area is numb. Underwire could rub, chafe and eventually cut my skin in my breast area because the skin there is still very fragile and sensitive. And numb. So I wouldn't feel the destruction taking place. My doctors -- each of them -- have warned me repeatedly not to wear underwire bras. So, I have beautiful lacy items that I may never get to use again. Waste of money. And int he meantime, I need to find new items to wear that fit well and appeal to my sense of style.

Drama. Its not just finding bras and then paying whatever price they cost just to have them. Its finding a massage therapist who knows how to work with cancer patients to assist in helping me to get my body back. Its finding a physical therapist to work with, to get my range of motion back. Its keeping lots of suncreen (spf 70) and bug spray around to protect my skin. Suncreen to protect my very fragile skin. And bug spray because the slightest infection in the arm that was affected by my surgery could trigger lymphodema.

And it goes on and on.

Yesterday I talked about my back pain and how its driving me crazy. It is. And I continue to push myself because I want as much of my life back as I can get. I hung out yesterday and am paying for it today. I knew when I decided to hang out that I was making a choice but I needed the time I spent with my friends, so I hoped that my back wouldn't protest too much.

Eh. Its hurting something serious today but I will force myself to get moving soon. I just want to feel like it won't get really worse today.

But all of that to say... it costs to be sick. Beyond the active treatment of your disease, there are considerations about your lifestyle that you have to consider.

So... when you talk to someone that you know is dealing with an illness, if you're in a position to help them -- buy a cup of coffee, or something like that -- pass that kindness along. Although we're all feeling the pinch in this recession, the pinch isn't the same for everyone.

I've been reading and researching diet changes and I don't know how I will afford to eat the way that so many people believe is best to keep my chances of cancer recurrence low. Whole foods, organic produce, etc. cost a lot of money. Juicing daily, though good for you, gets expensive. The herbal supplements and such... are not cheap. But it is a balancing act, where somethings go up in the budget, other things will have to come down. And some dreams may have to be washed away.

I haven't figured out what I will leave behind in order to make these other things happen. But something will. It has to. I am single with no children. I've read horror stories about women with breast cancer whose husbands left, leaving them alone, sick, scared and broke trying to raise healthy kids in the meantime. Some women have lost their homes, trying to be treated for breast cancer. I know that I've been bitter and angry about my relationship ending... but I do feel blessed that at least we weren't married and then broke up. As much as my heart has been broken, my finances were not affected by the dissolution of the relationship. Not to be callous, but that's a huge relief - I'm sure for both of us.

Thinking about planning for retirement while paying medical bills and adjusting to higher living costs... is where my head is right now. Having fun, squeezing it in when and where I can, is priority for me right now. When I close my eyes and think about the ways that my life is different today from a year ago, there is still a lot of anger there. But its not as much as was there 6 months ago. And 6 months from now, I pray that it will be even less.

It is a good day. :)

my d*mn back hurts -- and i'm SICK of it

I've been trying to "play nice" and just go with the flow.

I've been trying to convince myself that this ache and this pain, in the middle of my upper back was temporary. And if I just soldiered through, it would eventually go away.

Its not going away.

Its not getting better.

And I'm very damned annoyed about it.

My typical day goes like this... wake up, feeling groggy and nauseous. (That means I took my sleeping pill and I have to suffer through the nausea) The alternative is to wake up, tired as hell because I didn't sleep all night - thanks to hot flashes and sweaty sheets/pillow cases.

Drag myself out of bed, try to stretch my stiff left arm, slightly massage my breast "nubbin" and head to the bathroom. After doing what I do in there -- included scrunch-faced inspections of my mastectomy scar and the discolored skin from radiation (that doesn't appear to be changing back like I was told it would) -- I get dressed and head to work.

Now, all of this takes about an hour or so because I move slow. Just as I get to the subway station, my back starts to hurt. At this point, I've only been up for less than 2 hours.

I make it to work, smile and shuffle around the office... do what I do over there... and then I sit at my desk. Basically, I'm on super-duper-light duty so mostly I answer phones and talk to the never-ending stream of building workers who visit our new office trying to work out the kinks and complete the decorating of our space.

So I sit. For hours. And by the time my few hours are up...

I feel like someone has wedged a damn HATCHET into my back. Every move left or right, is a twinge. When I stand up to walk, I have to brace myself because not only are my knees and hips tight now (which causes me to walk funky) my damn back hurts so badly that I just wanna lay down and curl up into a small ball.

I pop tylenol like they are mentos. And I self-talk all the way through the rest of my day. Some days are worse than others, though I haven't noticed any correlation with the weather or anything like that. (Which reminds me, I'm almost out of my handy tylenol)

Every day.

Its so damn annoying.

I've been joking with people that since I'm lopsided, my back can't handle the stress of carrying just one super-boobie. Not really sure if that's it, or if its something else. I spent a little time this morning searching the breast cancer message boards to see if any others have experienced similar pains. And of course, I am not alone in my misery.

I did find it strange the the major complainers about back pain where women who had undergone bi-lateral mastectomies. You would think that with no boobies, there would be no pain. But, that's obviously wishful thinking on my part.

The pain is prompting me to look into my reconstruction surgery options and see if I can possibly move my expected surgery date up a few months. Right now, I'm planning for October or November... but I don't think I'd be upset if I could move it up to August or September.

I'm going to try massage as an option to help with the back pain. There is a massage school in the area that offers free/reduced massages for breast cancer patients. I actually had an appointment for last week and forgot about it during my emotional meltdown. Rescheduling it was challenging because it has to be scheduled in a certain time interval around my chemotherapy.

(I mean, really, does every-damn-thing have to be this hard and this complicated? Seriously?)

At any rate... today's post is a whine and a complaint. My back hurts like hell. I'm going to keep doing what I do. Keep moving forward. But all of this drama... its for the dang birds, I tell you.



....totally unrelated though, I'm looking rather cute today. :) So, there's always that.

The Canary Project

I work for a very green company in a very green workplace, so it was no surprise to me when the founders of the Canary Project paid us a visit to educate us about their work. The Project "produces visual media, events, and artwork that build public understanding of human-induced climate change and energize commitment to solutions." Edward Morris and his wife and photographer for the project, Susannah Sayler have travelled the world (I won't pretend I'm not a little bit jealous) photographing areas affected by climate change. The Canary Project successfully melds art and activism and is an interesting new way to inform and inspire. Check it out!

the healing balm of family...

I decided last week that my emotional health was in jeopardy and that I needed to do something to turn the tide. My grief and despair over the death of Fran was deep and was growing everyday. I needed to do something different and I had to do it quickly.

I decided to go to see my family in Alabama.

Those of you who know me, may have heard bits and pieces about my Birmingham family. My mother is from there and several of her siblings (and their children, grand-children, etc.) still live there. We try to have a reunion every two-three years just to get together and see one another. Catch up on everyone's lives, so to speak. My family is LARGE. Very, very large. There were 16 siblings, and all but one had children. Two uncles and one aunt have passed, along with my grandparents... but for the rest of us, we try to make an effort to see each other (or some part of the family tree anyway) every so often.

I had not personally been to Alabama since our reunion there in 2003. And when I thought about it, I had not been to the last reunion either. I was overdue... and with all that I've been through and all that I'm looking to go through... it was time.

I'd detail the trip but, let's just say it was worth it. Family is family. Whether we agree or not, like one another or would rather stay gone... family is family. I saw relatives I had not seen in many years -- like 10-15-20 years in some cases. We reminisced about stupid things we did as children. We discussed what we were doing with our lives as adults. And eventually, at a smaller gathering... we discussed my breast cancer.

It was the last night I was in town and it was a small gathering of "the grands" at the home of one of my cousins. (that's a tradition of its own, anyway) And we discussed breast cancer, the treatment, our personal responsibility to check our breasts and so on. It wasn't a difficult conversation -- this was my family -- and for once I could talk about it and not cry.

I did talk about my cancer with one of my aunties a few days prior and I was close to tears then. But by Sunday night, I was feeling stronger about this journey and it didn't bother me to talk about it. I love my family... all of them. Even the crazy ones (I'll let them figure out which ones those are).

One of my aunties died from breast cancer. And I have thought about her everyday since my diagnosis. I looked around at all of the women in my family this past weekend and prayed. The statistical numbers say that 1 in 8 women will have breast cancer in their lifetime. My aunt Vinnie-Lee was 1, and I am 2. I am praying that those two lives will serve as a protective balm over the remaining women in the family.

Family is family. The love of family can truly soothe what ails you. Now, no one in my family is trained in oncology medicine and none of them can help me with my breast cancer treatments... but they helped me a lot by treating me just the same way they always have. Loving on me and cracking jokes.

I hope I left them with a good memory of me.

say a prayer please

There are millions of people right now... living with cancer in the United States. And a large number of these people are breast cancer survivors. I don't know if its something in the air, or the phase of the moon... but it feels like a really heavy week emotionally and physically for many of us fighting breast cancer.

My facebook friends can tell you... my status reports these past couple of days have been somber and sad. My heart is very heavy. My body is going through something -- maybe its nerves and anxiety -- and I've been sick to my stomach for days now. I don't think I've picked up a bug, but I will continue to monitor myself for any other changes.

But I think that I, as well as all the other breast cancer survivors (including family and friends) could use a prayer boost right now. Cancer attacked my body and I've been fighting it since day 1. Now, something is attacking my spirit and its dragging me down.

I just read a blog entry of another breast cancer sister. She is going through chemotherapy and her body is not handling it well. She's been in and out of the hospital with various infections since she started. Her doctor finally told her that they were going to stop the chemotherapy at 4 rounds, instead of pushing on to 6 because her body wasn't handling the infusions well. So, now although she feels some relief from going through another 2 rounds of chemo, she's now afraid that maybe 4 isn't enough. She's scared and tired.

I know how she feels. I went through 8 rounds of chemo and although my body handled things relatively well -- I still ended up in the hospital a couple of times myself. Its frightening. Your body hurts, you are scared and you don't know if the decisions that you're making are the right ones.

I left a comment on Sheri's blog that... the hardest thing right now is learning to live with the unknown. The best part of being an adult is being in control of your own life. Cancer takes that control from you. You never know if you've tried enough, done enough, to make a difference. You don't know if doing everything your doctors tell you to do is the right thing. Or would it be better to skip the western medicine and go the alternative/natural path? No assurances either way. No one can promise you that "this" path is the right path.

And that's frightening. Because you're already feeling so close to death as it is, that you absolutely do not want to take the wrong step off the short ledge.

The bottomline for me is that I'm scared. I'm scared that after doing all the things I've been told will help, after cutting off body parts, and sitting through hours upon hours of chemo... that in the end, none of that will matter and the end result will be that cancer still had its way.

Fran's death is hitting me so hard because she did all the right things. She fought the cancer hard. She was diligent. And in the end, it didn't stop the cancer from finding her again and hitting her even harder.

How do you keep finding the strength to fight an enemy you can't see coming? Where does that energy come from?

My family reunion is this weekend in Birmingham, Alabama. I had not planned to attend. Lots of reasons, none of them good really... but I just didn't feel up to it. Today, I'm going to see if I can take the time off of work and go down to visit my family. I'd rather see them now, even with this immense sadness in my heart... than to have the next time they see me be at my funeral.

Stepping out of my comfort zone (because I'd rather curl up in my bed and close the curtains and just cry) because I'm hoping it will shake up my mood. Help me find some joy and laughter again.

Please say a prayer for all of us struggling with cancer today. We need it.

today was a really hard day...

I'm hoping that tomorrow will be better. Today was hard. Yesterday was hard too. Pretty much... every moment since I learned about Fran's death has been difficult. Fran is the second breast cancer sister I've known this year to die.

I cried so much yesterday and today... that now I feel sick. I stayed home from work today because I was an emotional wreck and I just wasn't feeling well. Its a bad combination -- aches and pains, along with grief and heartache.

I'm being a whiny baby about this and I know it. But I'm honestly struggling with handling the deaths of other breast cancer patients. Its like for every step forward, every moment of joy... there is a step backwards and moments of agony. Its just not fair.

I'm shedding tears for all of us who have to deal with this. Patients, family, friends, and medical staff. Its so hard. Like fighting a ghost or something. You do what worked before and you hope that it works again. You do what you're told will work best... and you pray that cancer doesn't find you again.

I've never been very good with uncertainty and change. But I've been working on learning to go with the flow for years and I have gotten better. I know that there's still work for me to do.

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with an old friend from college. Her mother passed away years ago from cancer and she was just talking to me about my disease. She mentioned to me that she felt that her mother had given up and that's why she was gone now. But my friend Monica didn't believe that I would give up, and she expected me to live a long time.

I don't know what stage of cancer Monica's mother had, or what her prognosis was... so I don't know what her state of mind was at the time of her passing. But I know that the uncertainty of all of this is really hard to handle. Right now, I don't feel like giving up. I feel that there's a lot of life left for me to experience and enjoy and I want to do that. What makes me pause, and makes me cry and worry... is that I don't have any control over this. I can read everything I get my hands on -- most of it conflicts with other reports every day -- but it might not be enough. I do what my doctors tell me to do -- but there's always a possibility that I'm the exception to the rule.

Its overwhelming sometimes to think about all the possibilities.

I know that this sadness will pass. I hope that its gone by the time I wake up in the morning, actually. I just keep thinking about everything and everyone in my life. Thinking about Fran's death makes me think about my own. I suppose that when that day comes, I won't be sad anymore. But until then, I'm going to keep fighting to stay alive and to live a good life.

Don't mind my tears and sobs. Just a temporary state of mind. Deep down, I'm happy. Pretty soon, I'll be laughing again.

Just not tonight.

The Race for the Cure...

A few years ago, I participated in the Marine Corps Marathon to raise money for HIV/AIDS awareness. It was one of the most difficult things I've ever done on purpose. I am not an athlete. Don't really want to be either. But I have to say, though I loathed every step I took to train for that event, my body was fantastically toned and I was actually strong for a little while. I reverted to my couch potato ways immediately following the race and am still there.

I mention that because I learned a lot about myself and my ability to endure tough situations from that time. I am once again in a marathon situation, but this time I don't know where the finish line is. I won't know until God tells me that its time.

That's a little harder to prepare for.

Saturday, I participated in my first Race for the Cure. I personally raised over $400 and my team raised over $1500. All for breast cancer research. I went into this event thinking that it wouldn't be that difficult, since it was only a 5k. There was a 1 mile option, so I was aware that I didn't have to force myself to do three miles if I didn't feel up to it. I thought I had mentally and physically prepared myself for the race.

I wasn't ready.

From the moment I stepped on the subway platform to head to the Mall... I felt exposed and stripped bare. Survivors were given pink t-shirts to wear, all other registrants had white shirts. I was moved to tears when I realized that I was the only pink shirt in my subway car. However, when I got off the subway to walk to the meeting point... the abundance of pink shirts caused me to cry again.

I know the statistics about the number of women and men with this disease and yet... my breath stopped when I saw the abundance of pink shirts. As people walked by, many with their kids in strollers or holding hands... I noticed a lot of remembrance signs. Again, had not prepared myself for that and I cried at each passing sign... "in memory of grandma"... "we love you mom"... so forth.

By the time I walked the two blocks to meet my team -- I was an emotional mess. I sobbed uncontrollably for awhile, while my teammates hugged me and tried to console me. I don't even know if I had a chance to explain to them why I was so upset. But it was completely overwhelming. I think a really hard part of it was that I went to the event alone. I needed someone there to hold my hand. I couldn't say that to anyone but I realized later on that I needed that.

My team joined another team, IASK, to walk in honor of three breast cancer survivors. I was one of the three ladies that was so honored. The other two were Fran Robinson and Venessa Bates. The IASK team (which means, I am my sister's keeper) had participated in the walk for the past 5 years... so they were better prepared and not as emotional as I was. I was grateful for that. Those ladies helped me and my team to complete the walk.

The Race for the Cure was well-organized, very energetic and generally a good time. Even through my tears and heartache, I felt love from everyone I saw. Once on the mall, my pink shirt put me in a special club. I hugged and was hugged by many of my breast cancer sisters. It was randomly wonderful. As we stood in line to pick up gifts, we exchanged our bc-lingo. "How long have you been a survivor?" "Did you have radiation too?" And so forth. I am comforted and disturbed by the notion that sharing my medical history with strangers has become normal for me. There are people in the world who don't know my name, may never cross my path again and yet... they have been briefly privileged to know my intimate medical history.

Its strange. And yet, the comraderie is so wonderful because you know that they completely understand everything you have been unable to adequately express to others in your life.

I didn't complete the 5k. When I noticed the signs for the "short route", I bowed out and did the 1 mile. It was enough. I was definitely tired after that walk and I was happy that I didn't force myself to complete 3 miles in an effort to prove something to strangers.

Somehow though, my friend and I failed to cross the finish line and so I did not receive my survivor medallion at the end. I didn't even know it was missing until I was standing in line to pick up my fundraiser gifts and I noticed several of my pink shirt sisters with the medallion around their neck. Eventually, I asked one sister and she explained what it was and as we continued to exchange our breast cancer lingo -- you guessed it -- I burst out into tears again.

I do not know why this is all so damn hard, all the time.

That lovely lady gave me her medallion and that touched my heart even more. I was a muddy, exhausted mess by the end of it all. The Mall was madness because it had rained in DC for days prior to the walk. My shoes, my sweat pants... just soaked with mud. But I didn't really care.

At the end of the day, all that really mattered was that women and men from around the globe gathered together to pay their respects to those who have fought this disease.

I was lucky enough to run into some friends (some of the DC Sistagirls who walked with other teams) and I was boosted by seeing familiar faces. But it was a hard day emotionally.

Later that day, I learned that one of the ladies we walked in honor of had actually passed away the day before the race. I never had the chance to meet Fran Robinson. Just after my diagnosis, one of the sisters from IASK mentioned her to me and suggested that we get together and talk. I wasn't up for it then. I was wallowing in my own self-pity and naturally figured that ... there was time for that later. Sadly, there wasn't.

It seems that there just isn't enough time to do it all. I feel compelled to honor myself and respect my own emotional needs. But I also am realizing that when the opportunity presents itself for me to connect with another breast cancer sister, I need to move beyond my own comfort zone and make more of an effort to do so. Participating in the Race for the Cure was a big step out of my personal comfort zone and I think that it was worth it.

I am looking forward to doing the event again next year. Hopefully I will be less emotional about my journey and will be able to see things without tears in my eyes.

Cocktails 101

Does this scene sound familiar with you?

You are heading out after work with a few friends to a new bar you haven't been to before. The waiter hands you a list of the drinks offered at this bar and you haven't heard of any of them previously. Your friends look at the menu and know exactly what they are going to get in seconds. You, on the other hand don't know what drink you prefer as you look through the short novel of all the drinks they can create for you. You don't want to be lame and ask the waiter/bartender what exactly is in each of the drinks, but you aren't sure which ones you will like. The waiter comes back and takes everyone's orders, and when it comes to you, you try the first one on the list. Several minutes pass, and the waiter comes back with all of your drinks. You take a sip of your drink, and you don't like it, you try your friends drink and love it. If only you knew what drinks were what.

If that scene sounds familiar have we got an event for you! Cocktails 101, where you can learn from the Boston Shaker how to make a Martinez, French 75 among others. Enjoy Cocktail Samples and amazing appetizers from Mantra while your at it!

PLUS ALL PROCEEDS will go to the West End House which offers life-shaping opportunities to more than 1,000 youth representing 40 countries. Learning and doing something good for you community, all in one!

Details:

Where: Mantra, 52 Temple Street

When: June 18th, 6-9pm

Benefitting: West End House

Cost: $20 in advance, $25 at the door

Sponsors: Mantra, Boston Shaker, Berkshire Mountain Distillers, Preiss Imports and Vin Divino,.

Related Posts: 80's Game Night, I love Pasta, Spirit of Service

Maybe it’s time to GIVE a bit more Boston…

Maybe it’s time to GIVE a bit more Boston…

Sometimes you have to hand it to Congress, at least for their creative naming of legislation. Proposed bill names are often a little self serving, i.e. the ABC act (Access to Books for Children); or they may provide a little double meaning, as in one in the news recently, the FACE act (Freedom of Access to Clinics); sometimes they even actually make sense, e.g. BUSES act (Bus Uniform Standards and Enhanced Safety), and sometimes they are just aptly named, e.g. the CAN-SPAM act (Controlling the Assault of Non-Solicited Pornography and Marketing Act); and, of course others make you wonder how much time and effort was spent just naming the thing, and why, e.g.the HOME-RUN act (Helping Owners Make Energy-Efficiency Residential Upgrades Now).

Fun with words aside – in April of this year, Congress passed the GIVE act (Generations Invigorating Volunteerism and Education). Okay, so this was later renamed in honor of our own Sen. Kennedy, but regardless the bill provides for the reauthorization of the Corporation for National and Community Service, vastly expands the AmericaCorps program, creates a social venture capital fund, and provides funding for programs to support community involvement among college-students, senior citizens, and yep you guessed it…younger, working professionals.

According to 2007 data from the Corporation, Boston residents aged 25-34 are the least likely to volunteer their time (20% participation in volunteer activities). Sound low? This is in a city that ranks 34th out of the 50 largest US cities in terms of volunteerism rates (26.4% in 2007).

Surprising maybe? This means that just 1 of every 5 of your friends in Boston is likely to volunteer their time to a local or national organization provide tutoring, mentoring, fundraising, organizing, or direct services. The median time given among young professionals? -- just 36 hours, or less than 2 days a year, about 12 Red Sox games, or the time spent watching a season of 24.

So what can we do to encourage a Spirit of Service among this age group? Aside from increased federal support for organizations, encouraging access to positive volunteer experiences may increase the likelihood of individuals developing a sustained interest in civic service.

For working professionals with competing interests, this may be easier said than realized. Still, there is no shortage of great organizations and volunteering opportunities in Boston. OYFP, for one, is among many others, such as YAVA. Private and business support for volunteering is organized through organizations such as Boston Cares. Traditional services-organizations are expanding their reach, e.g. United Way’s Young Leaders program. You can encourage your company to adopt a community-oriented component to their mission statement, that explicitly supports employee involvement. In this increasingly connected world your iphone and facebook account can do more than update your friends’ status, by plugging into a lot more.

Talk to friends, commit a couple hours, join a email listing, become involved, GIVE a little bit more, and help Boston become better than 1 in 5.

Please check out Fight Pink!

Fight Pink is a website dedicated to advocating on behalf of breast cancer patients, survivors and others connected/interested in the disease. Stacy, the founder of the site, is a breast cancer survivor and a diligent voice for all of us who venture on this journey.

Stacy found my blog and asked if she could share my story on her site. Naturally, I agreed. For those who have been following this blog since the beginning... its all old news. But if you're late to the party, you can get a glimpse into the beginning of this journey through breast cancer.

http://www.fightpink.org/

I have agreed to be a contributing writer to the site. So look forward to seeing different things from me concerning african american women and breast cancer. Should tie in nicely with the new blog that I am creating.

Just sharing the good news. Please check out the site... its really awesome.