Single Most Asked Question

Today is my six and a half year cancer diagnosis anniversary and it to this day it amazes me how it seems like yesterday, with every feeling as familiar as if I had just felt them. To be told that you have this unknown monster living in you and knowing that it could kill you isn’t something I would wish on my worst enemy, but looking back I’m incredibly glad I went through it. It changed me in ways that nothing else could have and was an amazing life changing experience (not one I’d like to go through again, but not one I regret).

In all the years since going through it, there is one question that I get asked, hands down, more than any other… “Didn’t it hurt?” The mass in my leg was six inches by four inches and wrapped around the side of my knee, a rare form of cancer known as liposarcoma. There were red flags that made me wonder what was going on, but like I tell everyone, “Nothing hurt until they fixed me.”

From what I’ve been told, cancer is silent and if it gets to a point where there is pain, it’s likely advanced. If most people are like me, they know something is amiss. I tried denial, but my right leg was three inches larger than my left in diameter and it would go numb from the knee down if I would sit too long. Those are things that are extremely difficult to ignore. Even before going to the doctor I had that “gut feeling” that something was seriously wrong. I’d ignored this problem for no less than two years or tried to. With no pain, that came easily.

With this fact, I tell everyone to pay attention to their bodies. Don’t ignore something that seems “off.” Have a doctor check out issues, if for nothing other reason than you own peace of mind. Cancer sneaks up on us and we need to take care of these precious gifts that are our bodies.

Reality and Kids

Anyone that knows me at all knows that I detest reality shows in all their forms and am never quiet about this fact, but lately I’m seeing it go to all time lows. First of all, isn’t “Reality Television” an oxymoron to begin with? Reality goes right out the window the instant the camera starts rolling. No one can truly be themselves in front of the camera. Okay, maybe those village idiots out there, but no one with a single functioning brain cell can.

Lately it’s all you hear and mostly about these poor kids that are getting thrown in front of the camera. I don’t mean to sound cold, but the instant I heard “reality show family” with the balloon boy, I knew that I wasn’t taking it seriously. Come on, I’m not a rocket scientist, but even I couldn’t see how that flimsy balloon could have ever lifted a child or even a small animal off the ground. Get real people!

It all goes to show how true the old adage is that you have to have a license to drive a car, but any idiot can have a child. It’s scary the damage these people are likely doing to these children. In years to come instead of it being “Plus Eight,” it will more likely be “Eighteen Plus Years of Therapy.”

Don’t get me wrong… I don’t claim to be the perfect parent by any means, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, knowing that was using my kids to make an easy buck. That seems to be all these parents are interested in. Their 15 minutes of fame, garnering an income off the backs of their kids.

What kind of example are they setting??? Yes, all of us normal people know it’s a bad one, then why are people still watching? I know that I’ve read that people are getting sick of hearing about it (goodness knows I am), but it’s going to take more people to realize that watching is keeping this nonsense going. Yes, these shows make the most dysfunctional family feel normal by watching, but what does watching this teach our own children?

Let’s get REAL and turn off the “Reality Television.” Maybe then it would go away for good.

A Remarkable Time of Year

October is easily my favorite time of year, with so many beautiful memories of life growing up. All it takes is the leaves to start changing and I get all starry eyed and sentimental. I adore raking leaves and the feel of crisp mornings. It never feels like work and genuinely takes me back to when I was a kid. Feeling the same feelings I did when I was 15 and always bringing a smile to my face.

It's funny, but cool October mornings always cause the song "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" by The Police to pop into my, playing repeatedly and causing "goofy grin" syndrome. I'd love to tell you why, but that's a story for another day.;o)

What sorts of memories does it bring back to you? Your first kiss, a hayride or going door-to-door for candy? I still can see myself in my Snow White costume when I was no more than six and going our trick or treating with my dad and brother. Even now I giggle.

Take this weekend and get out and enjoy the magic of the season. Kick up some leaves and remember being a kid. You'll never regret it...

You really can be a kid, again.

The Glory of Forty

I think I’m about to slap the next one of my friends that says that they are old or over the hill after hitting forty. Where does anyone get the idea that forty is old??? I’m just beginning to come of my own and loving every second of it. The old saying, “Old enough to know better, but young enough not to care,” rings true and should for most of us.

When we were younger, we worried about what everyone thought of us and now we know that the only person we truly need to impress is ourselves. How many times did we do something we didn’t believe in or didn’t do something we did, simply because we were afraid of what “others” would think?

When I was in my twenties, all the women that I looked up to and thought of as drop dead gorgeous were in their forties and that actually excited me about the future. Confident and achieving more than I could have hoped for back then, as well as comfortable in their own skin… Something rare and special in my eyes.

Now here I am, forty-three and having the time of my life. Better, healthier, and 100% more confident than I could have even dreamed possible. I’m literally bouncing off the walls and ready to try anything, not standing for being a wallflower, the way I was when I was younger. Determined to leave my mark and making a difference in the world.

Everyone should feel this good about their age. There’s nothing wrong with getting older, as long as we don’t get too old to enjoy life. Get comfortable in your skin, ignore your kids when they say you’re old, and get out there, experience life. You’ll never regret it. Getting “old” is always optional.

A Day that Changed a Life

Thirteen years ago an experience changed the way I looked at my life and my family. Was working as an oral surgeon’s assistant and had went out to lunch with the girls to the local Burger King. A typical lunch hour crowd filling the place, with everyone chatting amongst themselves, and no one taking notice of each other, as they relaxed for their hour.

Lunch hour was always the break we needed from our insane surgery schedule of what seemed like an endless line of wisdom teeth extractions. A chance to complain about our boss, chat about the latest episodes of Lois and Clark, or how we couldn’t lose weight while eating a Whopper; it was a nice escape. At least until the unknown mother and child came bursting into our lives.

Mother and son came shouting and fussing into the restaurant, loud enough to interrupt most conversations. This seemed like a daily routine for the pair and this time it was over the little guy not getting out of the car fast enough to appease his mother. Loud enough to garner everyone’s undivided attention this argument was over him not telling what he wanted to the waitress fast enough to suit his tyrant of a mother. She grabbed the back of the child’s shirt and started shaking and dragging him around.

The painter standing behind them in line had clearly had enough and politely said; “I believe your son is choking.”

"Instantly lashing back; “It’s none of your damn business, what’s goin’ on here!” Screaming she began again; “Another word about it, I’ll get the gun out of my car and blow your brains out!”

"Fear gripped everyone as they watched in stunned silence. Personally, I’d never witnessed anything quite like it and hope to never again. You could hear a pin drop as she took the child and left. Everyone was looking at each other, wondering about what they had just seen.

A couple of us slipped out the door to attempt to get her license plate number, without luck, but the manager assured us that during the commotion someone had already written it down, as well as notified the authorities. This relieved most of us, but I had to wonder how often this type of thing had happened in that household.

That day touched my life in countless ways and led to me getting involved with our local foster care system as a foster/adoptive mother and serving as a volunteer CASA in support of these kids. Having adopted three wonderful children that deserved a safe and loving home, I wish there was more that can be done to protect children from this sort of treatment. Sadly, this abuse is some of the milder that happens out there.

Every time I hear of another celebrity going outside this country to adopt a child it breaks my heart because we have so many wonderful and needy children right here in the United States. Most families are oblivious to how many children sit in the system, desperately needing nothing more than loving homes. They deserve all the love a good home can give.

If you have a chance to reach out to these kids… Do it. It will change your life. Even if it’s something as simple as giving hats and gloves or donating Christmas gifts, it matters so much and these children appreciate it more than you can imagine.

Take today to reach out and help a child in foster care. They need all the love they can get.

Damaged Goods

I’m damaged goods. What does it take to be whole after cancer? There are times I ask this question and wonder if I actually want to be “whole” again. Who have I become? Am I anyone remotely like the person I used to be? No, but that’s not exactly a negative.

I’m damaged, but not broken and or defeated. I hold my head higher and walk up straight, without having it in me to back down on anything. Willing to fight for myself and others, not something I would have done before.

I’m damaged and scarred, but have a bounce in my step. Sometimes smiling endlessly for no reason, just for being alive, and being able to step at all; doing things I “shouldn’t” be able to do. Doing things because I’ll never take my life or abilities for granted.

I’m damaged, but wiser than most. Seeing the future and all of its possibilities, desiring to feel and experience life to the fullest. Running when I should be grateful for walking and racing toward the future like a rocket.

I’m damaged, but a light shining brighter than the sun. Attempting to light the way of other survivors and showing that life is worth any and every fight. Blinding those that doubt and carrying those that can’t stand alone.

Yes, I’m damaged goods, but I’m better for it. Prouder, happier, wiser, and brighter than the person I used to be was. A fighter and warrior that has stood up in the face of cancer and shoved back, winning at life and reaching for the future, never to be beaten by cancer, as every survivor deserves to be.

An Introduction to Me and My Story...

To describe my life before cancer is difficult, it was nondescript and genuinely not memorable, if that is possible. Sometimes I think it was like walking through a haze of what was expected and never quite doing the things I wanted to do. Figuring that I had my whole life ahead of me and that I’d get around to it. Yes, I was a mom, a wife, and a friend, but I had no idea who I was and I was certainly no friend to myself. My self worth wasn’t great, I’d let go of just about every dream I had ever had and had no one to blame, but myself… Ironically, it took cancer to crash into my life, to shake my core, and blast the fog away.

I had known that there was mass and I hate to call it a mass, but since that is what it was, I will, for arguments sake. A bigger girl at the time and figured it was just a fatty deposit. Hey, it sounded good and kept things simple. It had been on my leg, behind my knee for at least two years that I had known and since it had never caused pain, figured that it was nothing. Looking back, there were a number of “little” things that I should have figured as a sign of a problem, but if I’m anything, I’m the queen of denial. It’s a skill and I’ve reached a professional level.

Finally, figuring that I had better get my weight in check, I started walking and training for running a race in the future. I went from 225 to 155 and was feeling incredible, but the mass on my leg was then much more noticeable. My right knee area was at least three inches larger than my left and I began to get scared. You know that eerie feeling of dread that something is really wrong and it’s not going to be able to be swept under the rug? Yeah, that’s the one. I had it and I had it bad. Sleep wasn’t coming easily and the panic was beginning to set in.

When I went to the doctor, it verified that something was seriously amiss. Not in the words that were being said, but by the look on the doctor’s face. I adore my doctor, but he is obvious when something is awry. The MRI was scheduled in about a week and the ride was about to begin…

First lesson learned… Never and I mean NEVER schedule a test on a Friday the 13^th! I’m not superstitious, but I’m not stupid, either and will never do that again. Sometimes we think that we’ve got it together and know what the future holds, but life can throw you a curve that you never saw coming and you must be ready to swing like you’re going to knock it out of the park… Your life may depend on it.

The MRI went fairly well and it really is like lying in a trashcan and having someone beat on the outside. They really need to make the music where it can be louder than the pounding. Afterwards, I spent the rest of the afternoon hounding my poor doctor for results. I badgered the poor man until he gave in and told me on the phone that it was cancer. Looking back, I feel terrible for pressuring him so much, but I wanted to know. Okay, I’m lying, I didn’t “want” to know it was cancer, but so it was and the adventure began.

It’s called Liposarcoma and a rare form of fatty cancer. It sounds like something that you would pay to have done, not something that you would be diagnosed with and nothing could have ever prepared me for the months to come. The mass was huge and people were measuring it in inches, instead of centimeters (approx. 6” by 4” and wrapping around the side of my knee, from the back). I was sent to a Sarcoma specialist in Cincinnati that was beyond incredible. After spending three days thinking that I would likely lose my leg and possibly have to go through chemo, with one look at the x-rays he said that he didn’t see a reason to think that I would lose my leg and that chemo wouldn’t be necessary either. For the first time, I had hope and was immensely grateful.

The light was turned on and I realized that life doesn’t go on forever and that I wasn’t immortal. Spending most of my life putting off until tomorrow, the things I should have already been doing today. I was suddenly running scared and introduced to anxiety attacks and depression. I had hoped to be able to run my first 5k race that coming fall and that goal was looking unattainable, under the best of circumstances. To fight the depression, I continued training as much as possible, through treatment. It became what pushed me forward and gave me a reason to care whether I survived or not. Needing to know that tomorrow would be worth something and to work towards was imperative, life had urgency.

Treatment consisted of six weeks of radiation (which was a piece of cake), followed by two surgeries (one to remove the tumor and the other to take care of an abscess), two weeks of IV antibiotics to treat some serious infections from me trying to avoid the second surgery (which, by the way was a bad idea), and eight weeks of physical therapy to be able to walk like a human and no longer like a duck. When I wasn’t on crutches or in a brace, I was on the treadmill. It may have not been pretty, but walking and running continued. The race dream created a reason to push through the pain and fight to be as normal as I was going to be. When I was too weak or unable to walk, I was online researching, becoming a sponge, and taking in everything. Studying my disease, physical therapy, racing, business, writing and whatever else came to mind, becoming a continuous student.

It took me six months longer than I had hoped, but in May of the following year and just eleven months from my diagnosis, but I ran and finished my first ever 5K race. I didn’t officially win the race, but in finishing I won the race of my life and couldn’t feel more joy, if I had finished first. Cancer was the race of my life, it changed me forever, but I won… I won!!!

Now I run three to four miles a day, have developed a growing business, and have already ran three different 5K races, aiming towards a 10K. These goals continue to grow and evolve, planning to move on to writing a book and well… I’m thinking of trying something a little faster than running… Maybe four wheels and racing school, how cool would that be? Life is short, it is NOW and we must experience it.

Welcome & Coming Soon...

Welcome to my new blog...
Will officially be up and going May 16th.

Come back and pay me a visit.