Race Day

This past weekend, I ran 13.1 freaking miles on my one year cancer-versary.  It was simply AMAZING.  It's an accomplishment I worked very hard for.  Something that no one can take away from me.  It was the end of a chapter (cancer) and the start of a new one (as a runner).  Believe it or not, I've never considered myself a runner... Until I crossed the finish line and decided I want to do another run.  I feel like I've finally earned the title of runner.

I wanted to share a bit about my race day.  

I set my alarm for 4:30am and hoped to sleep well the night before the race.  Of course, I didn't sleep well... I was wide awake at 3:30.  After trying to go back to sleep, I finally got up around 4am to start my OCD carefully planned out routine.  It wasn't the 13.1 miles that had me stressing out.  {TMI ALERT!!} My finely tuned routine had one goal in mind: a pre-race poo.  For any of you that run, you know how important this can be.  For weeks, I took mental notes about my routines and which activities would increased the chances of reaching my goal.  My routine was on point and 85% of the time, I could predict success.  All I needed was a cup of coffee, a half mile warm up, and indoor plumbing and BOOM! I was in business. 

Here's what my morning looked like Believe it or not, I actually took notes on my phone so I would remember the details of the day:

Pre-Race

4:00 - Up and at 'em.  Make coffee.  Shower and brush my teeth.  Goodness it's early. But, it's going to be a great day! I've trained so hard and it's finally here!

4:20 - Get dressed, eat banana.

4:30 - Write prayer list on my arm.

4:40 - Time to get the shit show on the road!  I decide to run The Link, the indoor tunnel that connects our hotel to the Crown Center.  I run for about a mile and a half, praying my colon body starts to wake-up. 

5:24 - I take coffee back to the room for Richard and go hang out on the toilet a bit.  As a psych major, I know the effects our environment can have on our behavior.  So, I figure it can't hurt to just go sit for awhile.  Still nothing.  

5:30 - It's got to happen soon, right?  I go down to my friend Carrie's room, where we talk about the race.  And poop.  I'm getting worried this isn't going to happen.  1.57 miles in.  Still not happening.  

6:15 - We meet our friend Whitney and Whitney's mom in the lobby.  We are going to do a quick jog to the WWI Memorial (I'd say it was maybe a half mile away).  It was cool and crisp.  Union Station was lit up blue for the Royals and Whitney is telling us about her Grandpa, who has a bench named after him at the memorial.  We get to the bench, say a prayer, and decide it's time to get back down to the start line.  

6:40 - Our hotel is close to the start line, so I run back up to the room to try to go one more time.  At this point I'm panicked!  The race hadn't even started yet and I've logged 3 miles already and still no dice.  

6:45 - I kiss Mase and Richard as they are in bed.  Mase is up and we do our family 'handshake' where we put our hands on top of each others and yell 1...2...3...Moss.  It puts me in a good headspace to hit the course.  

6:50 - Carrie, myself, and 11,000 other runners get in the chute (sort of like a corral for runners).  I feel the urge to pee, but don't have time to go because the race is going to start soon.  I'm nervous, I've worked so hard to poo, I'm positive it's going to hit me sometime during the race.   

The Race

7:10ish - The race starts.  The energy and excitement can be felt in the air.  Holy cow, this is happening.  And I haven't pooped.  Just go with it, Julie.  It's too late to worry about that now.  Enjoy it! You've got this!

Mile 3 - I'm praying for my marriage, per my prayer list.  Richard sends me a quick text of encouragement that I can read on my watch.  Rascal Flatts's song Won't Let Go starts to play on my Beats.  Richard would play this song for me when we were traveling to our doctor appointments.  Tears start to flow.  Dammit.  Stop crying Julie.  Suck it up.  Crying takes energy.  And you need the hydration.  Stop it!   

...You think you're lost.  But you're not lost on your own.  You aren't alone.  I will stand by you.  I will help you through.  When you've done all you can do, you can call.  I will dry your eyes.  I will dry your eyes, I will fight your fight.  I will hold you tight and I won't let go.  It hurts my heart to see you cry.  I know it's dark, this part of life.  It finds us all when we're too small to stop the rain, oh, but when it rains, I will stand by you.  I will help you through...  (Rascal Flatts, Won't Let Go)

Mile 5 - I'm praying for my Gillispie family and I quickly text my sister (thank you Apple watch for enabling me to text while I'm in the middle of a race.  Apple: Feel free to send me a free one for this endorsement).  Jill starts sending me texts of encouragement.  She has been following me the entire time using a tracking app.  She's encouraging me and telling me about water stations coming up.  Even though she was in Florida, it feels like she's running with me.  Another boost.
Mile 8 - I'm getting tired.  I've done a few hills.  The excitement of the start line has worn off.  Still a long way to go.  I round a corner and hear this familiar voice yelling "Go Julie! Go Julie!"  I look around and it is my friend Alicia, who lives about an hour away from KC.  We logged a lot of miles about 3 years ago, navigating motherhood.  Alicia ran a half marathon (I started training with her, but quit).  She knew exactly what I was feeling.  I stopped very briefly to give her a hug and a kiss and she told me to keep running and that she was proud of me.  She's got tears in her eyes and I'm choking back tears again.  She spent a precious morning traveling and fighting the crowds to come cheer me on for all of 3 seconds.  It's just the boost I needed to get over that 8 mile slump.  As I run away, I look back and can see her cheering me on.
Mile 9 - Richard sends me a quick text letting me know that he will be at Mile 11 (with him are my in-laws and Mason).  Another boost... Plus the Sport Beans I ate at mile 5 are starting to hit.  I kick it up a notch.  The motivation that my family is just a mile ahead keeps me going strong.
Mile 10 - I'm praying for all Survivors, especially those I've come to know in a Surviving Together Facebook group.  Praying for those who fought the battle and lost.  Praying for those who signed up for clinical trials so that I could get the best treatment possible.  Again, another boost to keep me going.
Mile 10.5 - I am running hard, okay as hard as you can after running 10 miles, and I'm looking for my crew.  I do this for about 15 minutes, expecting to see them any minute.
Mile 12 - I finally see Richard, Mase on his shoulders and my in-laws.  I quickly stop and give them high fives.  Mase thinks I'm like a super star athlete.  I can hear him ask "Daddy, is mommy winning?" Richard says "Yep, she's winning!"  Talk about a major boost!  I know I'm close to the end.  I've got about 10 minutes of the race left.
Mile 12.5 - I round the home stretch (although a half a mile is still a long ways after you've ran 12) and again, I see Alicia.  She's yelling that she's proud of me and tells me to finish strong.  I'm humbled.
Mile 13 - I see the finish line.  I'm soaking it in.  I'm a bit sad the race is coming to an end.  I feel so strong in that moment.  I'm proud of myself and cannot believe I've done it.  Cannot believe all that has transpired over the past year.  I quietly whisper "I WIN."  And, I'm thankful I didn't have to poop during the race.
After the race, I meet up with Alicia and my family.  Mason is so excited about my medal and decides  he wants to wear it.  Of course, I let him.  I know this was a team effort.  This entire year has been a team effort.

My cheering section!
My friend Alicia who was there to cheer me on in the very moment I needed a cheerleader.
Carrie, Whitney and I celebrating the finish.
My prayer list.
1...2...3...Moss cheer.
My race swag.

Oh, and my story was mentioned on the front page of sports in the KC Star!  You can read the article here: http://www.kansascity.com/sports/other-sports/article39351111.html

An Update

Just thought I would share a quick update...

To be honest, a few days ago, I was really down.  Cancer is hard (okay, that is a massive understatement), but you know what else is hard?  Transitioning back to "normal" - whatever that is.

I really looked forward to my exchange surgery, where the take out the rock hard, uncomfortable tissue expanders and put in soft, round implants - while I still have treatments, in the breast cancer and tissue expander world, the exchange surgery is often viewed as crossing the finish line.  I thought I would come out of the surgery skipping (okay not really skipping, as exercise isn't encouraged yet) and euphoric.  I mean after all I had been through, it was going to end with perky breasts, right?  What girl doesn't want perky, youthful breasts?

Well, I got perky, youthful breasts (my husband even called them a 10, minus the black-blue-yellow-greenish bruising).  And guess what: I still had a bout of depression after my surgery.  For so long Richard and I have had to FIGHT for my life.  Now what?  It's certainly a blessing, but an odd feeling none the less.  The depression has passed.  For now.  I suspect it may come back...  And that's okay; I've been through a personal war.  (Side note: I would imagine this is something similar to what our veterans face, although obviously on a different scale... it's not easy.  Thank you for all of you who have served!).

Okay, so for some good news:

• My pathology came back from my exchange surgery all clean!  If you didn't know that they were sending more tissue off to pathology after my exchange, join the club.  I didn't either.  I knew my surgeon was going to shave a bit more off my chest muscle to help create a bigger margin, as one was very close.  Blissfully stupid of me, It hadn't even dawned on me that there was a chance the cancer could still be present in my body.  The surgeon told Mom and Richard that he was sending it off to be checked and apparently they decided it was best not to tell me that.  Well played, you two.  They knew the results were going to come in a week and wanted to spare me the week of worry.  I damn near cried when the nurse announced my pathology was clear: both because I was oblivious obviously relieved and also because Richard and my mom choose to keep that burden to themselves, and protect me from it.  Thank you.  
• My energy keeps improving.  We stay very busy with playdates and shuffling around town to school and soccer practice.  The beautiful weather helps, too.  
• Hair is starting to come back everywhere.  I even had to shave the other day (I haven't done that in months and gotta say didn't miss it one bit!).  I am getting a hair line; Think a man's 5 o'clock shadow, but on my head.
• Eye lashes are also growing back, and not just a few, a whole row of them.  Right now they are about a millimeter long, but it's a start!  
• After some inspiration from some great friends, I've really tried to clean up my eating.  So far, I've lost 4 lbs! 
• My breasts...  They are a 100% fake, but they aren't trying to kill me.  And, as a bonus they are  90% fabulous (Richard would probably even rate them higher), even more amazing considering what they have been through.  They will take some time to get used to.  It takes months for them to 'drop and fluff' and do their thing.  But, my surgeon did an AMAZING job!  Ya'll ~ I had the DREAM TEAM of medical professionals!  If you are in the Springfield, Missouri area and need recommendations, please hit me up!!!  These guys are a amazing!  (Side note: Richard tells me he's seen a lot of breasts and felt an undisclosed number of them, so he's pretty much has an expert opinion).  

Off to enjoy the beautiful day...  Gentle hugs everyone (oh, hugs are way better without those blasted expanders, too!).  

Chemo #6 - Chemo is tough, but I am tougher.

As we made the drive to the Hulston Cancer Center, Richard and I were reflecting on the first time we made that drive just over 4 months ago.  We were in disbelief that we were reporting for chemotherapy.  And today, we were in disbelief that we were reporting for our last chemotherapy.  We made it; The fight isn't officially over (I'll have infusions through November and another reconstruction surgery and at some point they will need to remove my port), but we finished the toughest rounds.  I do have a sick week ahead of me, but knowing it will be my last sick week makes me giddy.  I can handle anything just one more time.  

All smiles on his last day of chemo!  

 Around 10:00 this morning, while we are checking in for chemo, my phone starts to blow up with emails and text messages.  Richard (along with my friends Shavonne, Brian, Maria and my Mom) had arranged for people to send messages of encouragement all at once.  It was amazing.  And it made me cry.  I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I am surrounded by some amazing friends and family.  

Richard's excited about it being our last day of chemo, probably because he thinks he'll get out of taking pictures with me.

Mason was excited too...  This kid has made a lot of sacrifices during this time.  He probably isn't even aware of the sacrifices he's made.  But Richard and I are and we could not be prouder.  Team Moss: One team, one dream! 

Bummer that most of my important counts were on the low end of the scale.  But, not low enough to keep me from finishing this final round.  My body is tired.  It's struggling to put up with the stress we've put it through the past 4 months.  It definitely fights back after my treatment in a barrage of side effects.  Chemo is tough, but I am tougher.

Our final waiting room selfie before we start round #6.  Can't you tell how excited Richard is? 

Me as they are disconnecting me from the infusion machine.  I was choking back the tears.  Can't believe this chapter is nearing an end.  I'm so excited.  And proud.  And honestly, a little scared.  But overall, they were very happy tears!

I did it!  6 rounds with poison getting pumped through my body.  

A family picture right before I ring the bell.  It meant so much to me that Mase was there.  

Me ringing the bell.  Ringing the bell signals the end of chemo and is a tradition at most cancer centers.  

What meant the absolute most to me was that my family showed up to ring the bell and cheer me on! The support we have gotten from my family and Richard's family has been amazing.  We are so blessed. 

Getting cheered on by my family meant the world to me.  Jill wasn't able to make it up from Florida, but that's okay because I booked Mason and I a little celebratory trip down there.  I cannot wait to get a big hug from my sister and feel that Florida sun on my head!  

Sorry, Not Sorry

Oh my!  I just re-read my last blog entry.  I'm not sure I've ever been that angry at something in my life.  For the one person that came close: all I wanted for that girl was that she has bad teeth and bad acne, and frankly I don't even wish that on her anymore.  I'm not sure I've ever hated anything in my life.  Sorry... Not sorry.

I hope no one found my last post offensive.  I considered taking it down once I read it in a more relaxed head space.  I used some strong words.  But, the truth is I was feeling some very strong feelings.  I've decided to leave it up, because it was what I was feeling at the time.  Those feelings are part of my cancer journey, and the entire purpose of this blog is to document that journey ~ the good, the bad and the ugly.  Feelings can't hurt us (unless perhaps we keep them bottled up inside).

It's such a fine line to walk, this journey.  I certainly don't want to portray myself as being a victim.  I'm incredibly blessed.  Cancer is bad, but it's not the worst thing in the world.  I try to be positive, because that's who I usually am.  Let's be honest, it's happened and my having a bad attitude isn't going to change that.  Might as well be positive and make it as bearable on myself and others as possible.  But, I don't ever want to give others the wrong idea that it is just an 'inconvenience'.  It's much, much more than that.  It's totally okay to be angry.  And it's okay to laugh.  There are no rules. Just moments.  Some moments are just harder to get through than others.

Happy to report I am in a much better place today.  I feel better physically.  I feel better mentally.  I feel better spiritually.  Thanks for the prayers and words of encouragement, everyone!

Off to enjoy the day with my sweet kiddo.  Reminds me of a tear filled conversation Richard and I had last night:  Cancer is a family disease.  My family (Richard, Mase, The Gillispie's and the Snyder's) has battled cancer, not just me.  They've had to pick up the pieces.  They've had to watch someone they love hurt.  They have made tremendous sacrifices.  They have cried themselves to sleep.  They have worried themselves sick.  We know our family is capable of handling this, although we certainly wish they didn't have to.  Our heart especially break for our sweet Mason.  He's watched far too much tv and played way too many hours on the iPad because mom just didn't have the energy to get down and play with him.  He's had to miss out on sports opportunities because we just couldn't commit to attending practices and games.  We've been distracted, and much of that distraction has been at his expense.  We decided a family date, complete with a trip to Toys R Us is in order once this last chemo cycle is over.  Cannot wait to celebrate as a family!

Chemo Cycle #5

Chemo #5.  Knocking these babies out!

We are getting so close to being done with the hard stuff!  We are on cycle #5 of 6 with the chemo.  I will have infusions through November, but those shouldn't bring on the sick days like the chemo does.

It's been a tough few days.  I can work myself up into a frenzy over anything!  I recently found out that a breast cancer buddy cancer had metastasized to her brain.  She's in her mid-30's and has 2 kids. It scared the shit out me.  If it could happen to her, then it could happen to me.  I shared this with Richard and we both got online and read some really scary stuff about HER2+ patients having an increased risk of their cancer metastasizing to other areas.  I felt like we could both handle this, but once we started thinking about how that sort of thing would impact Mason, it was a tough pill to swallow.  We cried.  We prayed.  And we vowed to do whatever we needed to do to reduce our risks as much as possible.

Well, our freak out came just in the nick of time, since we were meeting with the oncologist at today's appointment.  We discussed our fears and he did an amazing job at putting our fears at ease.  I am so grateful that Richard was there to have his fears put at ease, too.  Yes, it could happen, but there are also some factors that are in our favor, reducing our risk that it will happen.

Also, we were able to talk with our oncologist about my weight gain.  He assured me it was because of the chemo meds and steroids.  He attributed a lot of it to water retention and to the steroids and drugs making me hungry.  Now, I know that isn't all of the reason for my weight gain, but it was good to hear that the drugs are a contributing factor.  He assured me that it will fall off... I'm not sure I 100% believe him, but it was comforting to hear.  On a side note, he also said he would be upping my chemo dose because of my weight gain.  Yikes!  I guess that just means that I'll be getting more medicine, right?  So that's not an entirely bad thing, assuming I can handle it.

He also shared that drinking could raise my risk, like even 1 glass of wine a week can increase a chance of reoccurrence. I'm not a huge drinker anymore, so you would think this wouldn't bother me much, but all of a sudden I'm craving beer and hot wings like crazy. Apparently, I don't like being told I can't do something even if I wouldn't do it in the first place.

I'll post another update of cycle #5 soon.  Thanks for all the words of encouragement, thoughts and prayers everyone!  WE are doing this!  And I absolutely know I am not alone in this journey.  Humbled by all your thoughts and prayers for me and my family.

UPDATE: Cycle #5 has been rough.  I'm not sure if my body has just had enough, if I'm less mentally strong than before or if it is the additional chemo, but this round, I've been extremely tired.  Oh, and I caught Mason's cold.  But, I'm looking forward to a much better week next week!  One more cycle.  I can do this!

Chemo #4. Kicking Tail. Taking Names.

Today begins chemo cycle #4 of 6.  My counts were good enough and on some level I was giddy for today's infusion.  All 5 hours of it.  You see, in a few days, I'll hit a rough patch.  And after that, I will officially be on the downhill slide.  Only 2 more left after that.  THAT is a number I can live with.

My day started out with a tissue expansion fill.  Things are shaping up nicely so far.  Pun intended.

Today, during chemo, I realize I am especially blessed after I spoke with a lady about her journey.  She has pretty much been in chemo for the past 8 years.  She started out with breast cancer.  But it had reached stage 4, and had also spread to her lungs and her brain.  Her attitude was amazing.  Her journey, no doubt will be very tough, and the way it sounded it will never end.  Chemo can help manage her disease, but it won't cure her disease.

I can hear them ordering another patient morphine.  Me, I'm sitting comfortably in a recliner with my handsome, supportive husband by my side, ever so gently rubbing my leg and asking if I feel okay (chemo makes my face puffy from all the fluids and flush).  So, today I count my blessings.

Also, a good friend of ours came to hang out for a few hours of my chemo session.  And he brought lunch.  YES!  Thanks, Zach!  That reminds me of another friend, Debra, who has managed to send me a care package, complete with toys for Mason in it, for every treatment.  Even though, she has been dealing with some family health struggles, too.  And I've had numerous texts and messages from others checking in on me today.  Thanks for all the love.  Again, counting my blessings.

Richard has decided that the worst part of my chemo appointments is that I make him take a selfie with me every time.  And he can't even say no since I have cancer.  Hang in there, R.  Only 2 more to go.

Our friend Zach came to visit.  I made him join the selfie fun, too.  Loved seeing him.  He always makes us laugh!

UPDATE: While on infusion day I felt like I was kicking tail, truth be told chemo kicked my tail a few days later.  My 4th cycle hit me hard!  I spent well over 48 hours lying in bed or on the couch.  I was so exhausted I didn't even have the energy to watch TV.  I didn't sleep any more than usual, just pretty much laid there and chatted with mom when I was up for it.  Honestly, it felt like a setback ~ I handled cycles 2 and 3 so well.  I wonder if some of the chemo drugs have a cumulative effect and my body was angry, as it has reached its threshold.  I don't know, but I know it was a tough struggle for a few days.  This too shall pass.

NEVER ALONE

I'm preparing to tell my cancer story to a group of students and it has me thinking about what I want to say.  Let's be honest, my blog isn't exactly academically appropriate, but I know I want to be sincere and honest and that is exactly what my blog is.  It's dawned on me that cancer is a totally fubar'd total juxtaposition of emotions.

Since the end of yesterday's treatment, I've been on a bit of a high knowing I am on the downhill side the nastiness/awesomeness of chemo (admittedly it might again be the steroids that are making me giddy too).

Chemo is harsh. It's cruel. It knocks you on your ass and makes you crazy. I hate my sick days after my treatment.  Yet, it also may very well be saving my life. Prolonging the time I get with my family. It may be totally eradicating any trace of cancer that name still remain in my body.  Or it may be doing nothing at all, except killing my hair folicales.

And then there is the feeling of being beyond fragile and at the same time like a total badass.  

Or feeling pulled to listen to some amazing worship music and some profanity laden rap music. 

Feeling like I'm holding it all together at times and also on the brink of a complete meltdown.

Blessed and cursed. 

Laughing and crying.

Praising and cursing.

Angry and grateful. 

Strong and weak. 

Excited for the end of treatment, but also beyond scared to be turned lose without supervision. Thankful for my amazing family and hating myself that I'm putting them through this roller coaster. 

Energetic and so exhausted (once again, thank you steroids).

Hungry and nauseous.

Last night, Richard came home and we turned off the tv and had a good heart to heart.  He's good like that.  He is feeling the exact same way I am.  I'm not alone.  It's good when there is someone to walk you off your crazy ledge, but sometimes it's just nice to have someone sit on the ledge with you and hold your hand.  Thanks, Richard.

This morning, after a good cup of coffee, I was reflecting on Richard's and I chat last night.  It's okay to not always be strong.  But, it's also okay to give it to God and let it go.  He doesn't want us to shoulder these burdens alone.  He asks that we trust him.  And we do.  And when we waiver, he takes our brokenness and uses it to work within us.  Never alone.  NEVER ALONE.  

The Anxiety is Creeping In

This weekend Richard and I are sneaking away with some good friends (two who happens to be my ex-husband and his wife, who is also a friend of mine. Richard and I take credit for setting them up.) to a Garth Brooks concert.  I'm super excited to spend some time with our friends and to have some grown-up time... I know we will have lots of laughs.  But now the anxiety is creeping in as I try to pick out my clothes for the trip.  We've seen it before: anytime I want to dress up, I struggle with my current situation bald. 

I thought I was making progress.  A few times, I have even gone out and about without a hat, forgetting I was bald.  I ran an errand the other day, and didn't realize I was 'exposed' until I walked up to the register to pay.  I was really proud of myself, I've made a lot of progress.  And, then there was earlier this week when I delivered a meal to a friend who had a baby and I'm pretty sure I scared her kids with my bald head.  I had ran off without a hat, and gosh, the looks on their faces was quite funny and made me smile.  They don't know to be sad or to look away, they just know to ask questions and share their curiosity.  I love it!  It does look silly.  

So, I was sharing my anxiety with Richard.  Anxiety about being around beautiful women (who I should also mention are extremely kind and sweet!).  Sara is a petite gal with amazing dark skin and black, shiny hair.  Marisa is also super petite, with long, blond hair.  And she runs wins marathons.  Me, I'm bald.  And 15 pound overweight.  And today I was proud of myself for getting on a treadmill and walking 2.5 miles.  And I still have a cold sore that my body refuses to let heal.  And my boobs look like Frankenstein and feel like whoopee cushions.  Admittedly, I also have anxiety about being around my ex-husband.  I'm a girl, on some level I'd like to show him what he missed out on, (although admittedly, we both would whole-heartedly agree we ended up with better long-term matches).  And, I want to be a wife Richard can be proud of.  I know he's proud of me, but I used to look a little more like Barbie and a little less like Mr. Clean.

UPDATE: Well, we're back from the road trip and happy to report we had a great time!  The concert was awesome.  And, goodness, we are so blessed with amazing friends.  As we were walking through a crowd of 20,000 people, I rocked the bald.  The arena was warm and wearing my stocking cap just wasn't comfortable.  I loved the way Richard held my hand in a crowd of that many people.  He was probably just trying to make sure I wouldn't lose him in the sea of people, but in my mind it was his way of saying "This is my wife and I'm proud to be with her."

We also went to The Cheesecake Factory, where I ordered 2 pieces of cheesecake for dessert: Lemon meringue and Oreo explosion.  Yum!  I ate them both, too!  I figured, I have cancer.  And if I wanted two pieces of cheesecake, I was going to order two pieces of cheesecake.  Life is too short.

Enjoying the dance!

These are our friends Brian and Marisa Blackford and Brett and Sara Wilson.  Richard, Brett and Brian have known each other since grade school.  

It's Okay. I Have Cancer.

So, I've done A LOT a few things I'm not proud of...  So this isn't a marathon post, I will limit this list to just the last few months... Otherwise, we could be here awhile.
Truth is, when you have cancer, there are just some things you can get away with:

• Like eating a whole sleeve of Lemon Oreos.  For breakfast.  Before 8 o'clock in the morning. {Thank you chemo steroids}
• Nap for 5 hours in one day.  
• Cry at inappropriate times.
• Laugh at inappropriate times.
• Want to tell some one how you really feel when they politely ask you "How are you today?"  My mind says: "Well, my breasts were plotting to kill me, my 'new' boobs feel like whoopee cushions, I've got thrush, mouth sores and I could easily poop myself any minute."  My words say: "I'm good.  Thank you."
• Retail therapy.  Especially if mom is helping you foot the bill.  {Thanks Mom!}
• Shit yourself.  I'll spare you the details.  But, let's just say I am so thankful I was home.  And a word to any of you who may face chemo in the future: Never trust a chemo fart.  
• Totally acceptable to look at boobs on your computer or phone.  Even acceptable for your spouse to look at boobs on their phone or iPad.  For once, it's called research.  
• Wake your mom up at 2:30 in the morning because you don't want to eat Reese's cereal all by yourself.
• Gaining weight.  I blame it on the steroids.  But truth is, a lot of it is that at this point I just don't give a flip.  I'm sure (at least I hope) my attitude changes once my treatment is over, but for now, I find comfort in anything carb-y and salty.  

And a few things you shouldn't do if you have cancer:

• Blame yourself.  During infusion #3, there was a newbie sitting next to me.  She was probably in her mid-60's.  She shared with me that she has lung cancer.  Then, she hung her head and said she had been a smoker for years.  My heart broke, cancer is bad enough without the self-imposed guilt and shame.  NO ONE deserves cancer.  I can assure you, if there was some sort of cancer caused by binge eating carbs, I would have it.  And even then, I still wouldn't deserve it.  Her statement made me realize that I got one of the 'lucky' cancers that come with lots of resources and research funding, financial support, and pretty pink ribbons.  Instead of a big pink ribbon, a lot of cancers come wrapped in a bag of stigma.  Melenoma?  You must have spent too much time in the sun or in the tanning bed.  Liver cancer?  Clearly you drank yourself into that mess.  Lung cancer?  You were dumb and smoked cancer sticks cigarettes, despite all the warnings.  
• Google anything cancer related.  It will scare the shit out of you... (which isn't as quite out of the realm of possibility as it used to be).  
• Use it as an excuse to be mean to your spouse.  For the most part, I feel like I've been pretty nice to my husband during these times, admittedly not exactly the kind of nice he is probably wanting, but I plan to talk to my doctor about that, but on occasion I've taken out my frustration on him.  He deserves better.  Cancer is a family disease.  My job is to take care of myself and not poop myself.  His job is everything else, the biggest which is being the sane and stable voice of reason in a crazy season.  I fall in love with him more and more throughout all of this.  
• Clean.  Life is too short to spend time cleaning.  This has always been a philosophy of mine, now I just finally have a way to justify it.  

Signing off now... Those Oreos aren't going to eat themselves.  

Reflections on 2014

2014 has not exactly been easy.  In fact, it's been one of the most physically and emotionally draining years of my life... And on my entire family.

• We were bee-bopping along until July when my twin sister, Jill, found out she tested positive for the rare BRCA gene mutation.  I was tested in late-July and in the middle of August found out that I, too, had the mutation.  
• In September, my family and I made the decision that it was time to take care of business: I had a complete hysterectomy.  It was the easiest difficult decision I've had to make.  Sometimes I still get sad that Mason won't have a sibling, but I also remind myself that the reason why I did the surgery was so I can be around a long time to serve my family.  
• A month after my hysterectomy (mid-October), I completed my preventative surgeries by having what was supposed to be a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy.  The surgery was extremely painful... Even more painful was the phone call I received on Friday, Oct. 17th telling me that they had found cancer.  I endured countless sleepless nights and tears wondering if I was doing the right thing...  I endured painful surgeries and decisions in order to prevent cancer ~ yet it got me anyway.  I was devastated.  My family was devastated.  

So, yeah, not an easy 2014 to say the least... But I feel more blessed than ever.  

• In early July, we took a vacation with the entire Moss/Snyder family.  It was a week filled with sunshine, sand and family.  Memories made that we will never forget! 
• My sister taking the BRCA test saved my life.  My positive BRCA status saved my life.  We would have never been able to afford the surgeries on our own, and I wouldn't have pursued them without being BRCA+.  My BRCA status meant that insurance would cover a good portion of my procedures.  It meant that despite having a clean mammogram, I was able to push through and have the mastectomy my gut told me I needed to do.  I've learned to trust in my instincts, at any cost.  
• I've learned that I have an amazing husband.  I always knew Richard was amazing, but this year he has been my rock.  My marriage has grown and strengthened.  My love for him cannot be explained.  We vowed through sickness and in health, but we never imagined we would be tested like this.  
• I've learned to enjoy normal.  During my months of treatment, normal days are often few and far between.  Normal days are a huge gift.  I pray I don't fall back into old habits of taking normal days for granted.  Each day truly is a gift.
• My 'village' of friends are the cream of the crop.  They anticipate needs before I am able to speak them.  They pray for me and with me.  They listen when I am crying and cursing this journey.  They don't judge.  They just sit beside me and accept me exactly where I am without one ounce of judgement.
• My family, both immediate and extended family, have my back no matter what.  All of them have dropped what they are doing to assist in anyway possible.  Especially my mom.  She's comes up during my chemo weeks to help with Mason and the house.  Truth be told, I don't really need her to help with those things too much, but I do need her presence.  I am so grateful for the quality time we have gotten to spend together.  
• Our faith has grown exponentially.  Honestly, my faith has been growing all year though out 2014, thanks to an amazing group of ladies group I am part of.  At the time, I had no idea that God was preparing me for this trial.  I've learned He always provides us with what we need.  He knew I would be facing a trial and He put me in a place to grow spiritually so I was prepared.  

New Year's Eve 2014

Feeling blessed and looking forward to 2015.  Life is still good, God is still great!  

Chemo Cycle #3

Chemo cycle #3 - After the side effects of this treatment, I'll officially be half way through this stuff.  I'm not going to lie, I dreaded this round.  I've been feeling really good lately and didn't want to get knocked down again.   There isn't a whole lot to report, except we did meet with Dr. Ellis, my oncologist, today.  He said my counts looked really good and I'm taking chemo like a champ.  Thankful for my health, despite this cancer thing.  A lot of people have been sick this season and we've managed to avoid a lot of it!  

Dec. 29th, 2014
Chemo cycle #3

The JV Symptoms - Yikes!

So, I'm well on my way to having completed two chemo cycles.  Only four more to go!

Since I'm about a week out from my infusion the "JV symptoms" have started.  These symptoms aren't as severe as as the nausea and bone aches, but every bit as annoying as a freshman.  I'm talking abdominal cramps, random diarrhea and sporadic nose bleeds.  At the same time.  At 4:30 in the morning.

Let me tell you, I must have been quite a site as call out to Richard over the bathroom fan to come help me because too many of my body parts are leaking at one time.  Try it: holding your head back, to keep blood from dripping on the pillow you are doubled over on, all while you are sitting on the toilet.  Now, with your third hand and your eyes closed (because you can't see because your head is tilted back) go ahead and reach for some toilet paper so you can tend to your nose and your bum.  Oh... then for good measure swallow some of that blood that is dripping down your throat and start to gag once you finally make it over the bathroom sink.  Mercy!  My bathroom looked like a scene from Dexter.

I was so frustrated over that whole incident that I couldn't get back to sleep.  Small victory: I did resist the urge to get up and eat a piece of the chocolate cake that was in the fridge :).  So, while I couldn't sleep, I spent some time talking with God, another victory.  I didn't try to rush through my prayers like I often do, I spent some real quality time with Him.  Thanking him for the many blessings in my life.  Thanking him that it is me and not Mase.  Thanking and praying for Richard.  Praying that the doctors would discover that they had made a mistake and that it wasn't necessary for me to continue on with the next four chemo cycles.  Thinking of the wonderful families that raised Richard and me... And how because of their example we are equipped to raise Mason.

Still blessed.  And thankful for some quiet time with God.  And a husband that tells me he loves me and asks how he can help over the bathroom fan, a bloody mess at 4:30 in the morning.

Abundantly Blessed

For the most part, it's been a good week.  I'm finally getting over a cold, which I likely got while my immune system was down.  Thankful I am starting to feel better and also that I am hopeful I will be well for my next treatment, which will be this coming Thursday.  

Ugh!  I have a love/hate relationship with my treatments.  I dread it.  I've found my good days getting clouded by the dread of knowing what's to come.  I know next weekend I will be very sick, very achy and not able to do much of anything.  I know my only goal next Saturday, Sunday and Monday will be to make it through the day.  It almost seems sinful to waste a good day, such as today, with worrying about the future.  But, the worry manages to creep in.  

I also love the fact that after my next treatment, I will be 1/3 the way through.  And by New Year's I will be half way finished with my sentence treatment.  I'm hoping to have a cute, spunky hair style by summer.  I can do this!  It's just a season, right?  Come to think of it, New Year's day I will likely feel the same way some of you may feel on New Year's Day.  Hungover.  I guess I can take comfort in knowing my chemo hangover isn't of my own doing.  

Okay, back to being abundantly blessed.  I've been working on Christmas cards, and as I write each one, I am reminded of why I am abundantly blessed.  It isn't at all the things around me, it is the people around me.  It's my boss and department I work for that has been beyond supportive of me.  It's my friend Joni in Marshfield who watches Mase when I have appointments and showers him with love.  It's my friends Sam and Tara who I haven't seen in nearly a year and continue to text me at those times I need the support.  Their texts of encouragement always seem to come just when I need it.  Or my best friend from high school Sarah, who always makes me smile and we can pick up a conversation so easily just like we did in high school.  Or my mom and dad, who have been beyond supportive of me ~ not just with this cancer ordeal, but my entire life, whether I deserved their support or not.  And my sister.  Especially my sister.  Today she told me "it's okay to tell me when you have bad days.  You don't need to protect me from those.  I want to be there for you."  She said she can tell when I have a bad day because I won't answer my phone.  She's right.  She knows me all too well.  I miss her something awful!  

And then there is my little family.  I look at Mase and I just want to cry ~ but in a good way.  I love the little guy he is becoming.  He has a heart of gold!  I am so thankful that he's not old enough to be embarrassed of me and my bald head.  That would break my heart.  Instead, he helps me pick out my hat and headscarves, and I almost always go with whatever he picks.  If only time would slow down.  That kid has my heart.  I love him so much that it makes my heart ache, again in a good way.  And then there is my husband.  Who continues to shave his head since I am losing my hair.  Who still wakes up in the middle of the night to ask me if I need anything.  Who loves me unconditionally.  And supports me and encourages me to be me...  I am humbled that I get to be married to such an amazing man and that Mason has such an awesome example of a man to look up to.  I love both of them so much it's quite frankly hard to even put into words...  

Even though I have this cancer thing going on, I still feel like the absolute luckiest girl in the world. 

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

This week I have ventured out a few times.  Sometimes I'll wear a hat, sometimes I've rocked the bald, and sometimes I have worn a head scarf.  I thought I was strong enough to rock the bald, but now I am not so sure. Maybe it's all in my head, but I've noticed people look at me differently than they did when I had hair.  Men will glance at me and quickly dart their eyes away.  Women often look at me and give me the ever so polite head tilt and a slight smile, as if to take pity on me.  Children stare and sometimes whisper to their parent about the lady with a bald head.  I can't say I blame them.  I'm sure I would have done the exact same thing when I was a child. Kids are curious and I love that!

I especially felt self conscious as I was trolling through Target and saw a group of women close to my age laughing it up and flipping their long, blond, straight hair all around.  It made me sad and self conscious.  I once was confidence in my appearance and that just simply isn't the case anymore.  And perhaps there is a lesson in all of that, that appearance isn't everything, but let's be honest: it's something.  

I'm very open about my cancer.  I blog about it and post my ramblings on Facebook.  The thing about losing your hair, you can't hide it.  It feels so vulnerable.  And even though I am an over-sharer, I would like to have the option of when I share and what I share.  Looking at me, a stranger could probably not even tell I had a mastectomy.  My breasts will soon get pumped full of saline as I go in for my expansions.  But my hair, or lack of, is one of the first things people notice and it isn't near as easy to hide.  I feel like I have a 'cancer' bumper sticker on my big, bare forehead.  Some days, I'm okay with that, but some days I just want to blend in.  So, while I can put up a brave, happy-go-lucky face on my blog, going out in public is a lot more difficult for me now.  I'm constantly looking around judging peoples reactions.  I totally acknowledge it's very ego-centric and reminiscent of junior high school.    

I do have my sassy red wig.  But to be honest, when I put it on I feel like a giant faker.  And it's itchy.  And I would constantly worry if it is on my head right.  It's not the real me, and I pride myself on being real and authentic.  The other three options of hat, head scarf, or bald just make me look like a cancer patient.  And, I suppose that is okay because I am a cancer patient.  But even this over-sharer wishes I had a bit more control over my over-shearing get it, share - shear?! HA!.

Yesterday, on Thanksgiving, my hair officially started to fall out.  I would take a little pinch of my short, dark hair and like 20 little hairs would come out.  Richard shaved my head even shorter, in hopes of lessening the patchy baldness.  Even though he acted like it was no big deal, I can't imagine that was much fun for him.  Even though I shaved my head nearly two weeks ago, it's still a shock to me.  Just makes it all so real.  Honestly, on one hand I'm glad it started falling out.  I've been dreading it.  And, in my small little mind, it shows me that the chemo is working.  If it is destroying my hair growth, perhaps it is also destroying any rogue cancer cells in my body.

It's just hair.  It was hair today and will be gone tomorrow.  But, it will grow back.  Small price to pay for reducing my cancer reoccurrence rate, I suppose.  

Giving Thanks

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  To think about what a tough month it has been you would think it would be difficult to find thankfulness in my cancer diagnosis.  No, I'm not thankful for cancer.  But, I am thankful for some of the things my cancer diagnosis has shown me:

1. My husband will love and support me through thick and thin.  He has been A-MAZ-ING though out all the surgeries and treatments.  He's never gotten upset me with me and has been 100% supportive every step of the way.  I know it hasn't been easy on him.  It's got to be tough to see your wife go through the things I've been through, all while holding down 'the fort' and working.  He knows when to make me laugh, and when to allow me to cry.  So grateful for him!
2. My family pulls together.  As we all get older and start our own families, it's easy to get busy and not make time for each other.  I'm perhaps guilty of this more than anyone.  But, it's been awesome to see my family pull together to support me thought this journey.  
3. My in-laws are the bomb!  Again, so supportive of our little Moss family as we battle this thing together.  
4. My friends are top notch.  Confirmation that God puts us where we are supposed to be.  A year ago, we had just moved to Lake Ozark and barely knew anyone.  In fact, we were devastated we were moving away from every thing and every one we were familiar with.  You can read about that story here in the post "Where's Our Faith?".  No doubt God knew what we would need - and as always He provided.  Our friends have carried us through the past several months through support and encouragement.  It's humbling.  I don't deserve the caliber of friends I have, but I'll take it!  Love you ladies more than I will ever be able to tell or show you!
5. Life is precious.  Do not take tomorrow for granted.  I'm lucky enough that my cancer is treatable.  Not everyone is so fortunate.  Each day really is a gift.  I know it sounds cliche, but it's the truth.
6. Humor and faith are the best medicine.  Speaking of medicine, modern medicine is pretty fascinating/mind-blowing, too.  

Wishing everyone a great Thanksgiving!  I know we will spend it being thankful and celebrating life! Be blessed everyone!  

The Cut: Take Two. Rockin' the Bald

After chemo on Thursday and a follow-up shot on Friday, I knew my good hair days were numbered.  Generally, they tell you that your hair will start to come out in massive clumps between days 10-14.  I was feeling strong and felt ready to take the plunge.  So, I called up my good friend Brittany and made an appointment to get my head shaved on Saturday afternoon.

Some women choose to let their hair fall out on their own.  But, I'm a bit of a control freak, so that just isn't my style.  I've read that it can be quite traumatic to see clumps of hair on your pillow, in the shower, or on your hair brush.  I've heard from a few Survivors that your hair falling out actually hurts; that your head gets extremely sensitive.  And, I wanted to do the deed on my terms, when I felt strong and with Mason present so he could see mommy was just getting a silly new hair cut.

Richard agreed to meet Mason, my mom, and I at Head Case hair salon.  To my surprise, he walked out and greeted me with a big, bald head!  He knew I would need the support and didn't want me to have to go at it alone, so he showed up a bit early and had Brittany shave his head before I got there.  I was so touched... And come to think of it, I should have seen it coming.  Richard and I always call our little family of three Team Moss.  One team, one dream!  That's just who he is: we're in this together, no matter what!  The good, the bad and the ugly (I still haven't figured out which of those three categories Richard's bald head fits into yet).

I walked into the salon, gave Brittany a big hug and started to make my way over to her chair.  There wasn't a lot of time to second guess things ~ I was ready to do this!  I felt really strong, up until I looked over at my mom and saw big tears welling up in her eyes.  I'm not sure what she was thinking: perhaps pride that I was handling this so strongly; or perhaps she was just sad I was having to go through this.  Either way, I quickly wiped away my tears and made my way over Brittany's chair.  Brittany asked if I was ready and I gave her a simple nod.  On the outside I smiled my way through the shave.  On the inside, I was in shock that this was actually happening: I have cancer.  I have f#@$%&* cancer!  THIS is happening and it's happening right now!  Deep breath.  I shut my eyes and feel the clippers against my head.  It feels cool, as my scalp has never had so much room to breathe before.

I distract myself by talking to my mom, Richard and Mase.  Mase is dancing around the shop and thinks my hair looks silly.  Eventually, Brittany turns the chair and I catch a glimpse of my head in the mirror.  While it was a bit of a shock, I have to admit, it wasn't as bad as I expected.  I was still me, just with a shaved head.  Did I love it?  No, but I didn't hate it!  I looked at myself in the mirror and I remember telling myself "You can do this!"  I find myself saying that phrase to myself a lot these days...

I absolutely love Mase's face in this picture!  Sweet kid has taken all this in stride!
So blessed to be his mommy!  

My handsome little family.  

Rockin' the bald!  Thankful for a few other ladies I know who encouraged me to rock the bald.  Not sure I would have been able to do it on my own without the encouragement of a few bald beauties I know!  

Day 4: A Roller Coaster of Ramblings

Hi all!  I've wanted to keep up and have thought of tons of things to write about,  but honestly, I just haven't had the energy.  This cancer roller coaster is not for the faint at heart.  Maybe there's a common denominator (that common denominator is me and my big ol' bald head ~ more on that later) in a lot of my posts, the highs and lows of this journey are ever twisting.  To the point of nausea.

Speaking of nausea, I'm writing this at 2:40 am because I am up with achy joints, and you guessed it, the dreaded nausea which supposedly and ironically can be treated with joints.  See what I did there? :).  In truth, the nausea hasn't been overwhelmingly bad until now.  In fact, I have a couple of girl friends who seem to have pregnancy nausea that is way worse than what I'm experiencing.  Also on the topic of nausea, I just laid in bed a fucking hour trying to convince myself I wasn't nauseous, all because I was actually too tired to get up and take a Compazine or Zophran.  Yes, the nausea is such a dreaded side effect that they actually give you two drugs to combat the side effects.

That reminds me, there was clearly a distinct marijuana smell from a patient at my chemo appointment last Thursday.  Richard and I decided that it was probably one of the few doctor offices where such an odor wouldn't be considered downright offensive.  Every one is trying to make their way through this, no matter what.  And they sure as heck aren't going to face any judgement from me.  I just wished I liked pot.  The smell makes me sick.  You know the one I'm talking about...  Okay, I've got to stop writing about pot because those strong, thin muscles that are attached to your tongue are starting to tighten as I think about it.  {Gag}.

Some of you are wondering what 'this' feels like.  Here's a little text I sent out to a few of my close friends tonight:  "It's been a rough day.  I'm not in pain just achy, extremely tired and uncomfy.  I am eating and have managed to take 4 naps and a bath.  More than anything my heart is happy.  My body is sick, but a happy heart and a solid, peaceful mind is a great thing!  Still blessed.  Thanks for checking in."

Okay, now onto my roller coaster of ramblings... I've actually been keeping a short list in my phone of things I want to write about when I have the energy.

• The first one was how I laid in bed an hour trying to decide if I was truly nauseated or if it were all in my head.  
• Today was the first snow of the season and seeing Mason's face light up as the big flakes fell was damn near magical.  I will say, even though I don't feel well, there are worse things than just laying in bed, listening to your mom and little family scurry around the house and watching it snow.  
• So thankful for the time I've had with my family through all of this.  Richard has been with me every step of the way.  And so has my mom.  We probably laid in bed together for hours today.  There wasn't even a lot of talking, just a lot of hand holding and her asking me if she can get me anything to eat or drink.  For those who know mom, you know how she loves to make people feel better with food.  It probably breaks her heart that she just wants to cook me something homemade and all I want are these delicious, store bought, scalloped potatoes.  My mom isn't the 'store bought' kind of lady.  She labors in the kitchen and cooks with her whole heart.  *Mom, don't worry, I know you threw that cardboard box of potatoes in the oven with all your heart too.*  
• Damn, it's cold without hair.  Like all the time.  I literally spent my day curled up in bed, with a hat on (and an eye patch Mason thought I should wear).  To my dad, my brother-in-law Jack, Brian Blackford, and a few other guys I know, my apologies for making fun of your cold, bare, bald heads.  Just smile slightly and know that karma is a bitch and I am now eating my words!  
• Speaking of eating, I am so exhausted lately that I told my mom "even chewing seems like a lot of work."  

Battle #1

Hey all!  I write this as I sit in a comfy recliner getting poison medicine pumped through my veins.  Yesterday, I felt like a 'real' cancer patient was I started my lengthy medicine regime that I have in addition to my chemo drugs that are put through my port.  Richard reminds me I've been a cancer patient for nearly a month now, but truth be told, I haven't always felt like one.  For the most part I've felt well.  I had some pain and fatigue after the surgeries, so I did consider myself recovering from those, I didn't attribute that stuff to the cancer.  Now the cancer treatment starts.

This morning I started Battle #1.  I'm calling each treatment a battle, because I know I will win the war.  And I will conquer the battles, they just may rough me up a little.  They told me that today's treatment will last 7-8 hours, as they give your your medicines very slowly and watch you for reactions.  This morning they also did my chemo education.  Fun times!  Seriously, very informative, and honestly a little scary.  It almost scared the shit out of me.  Pun intended.  Apparently one chemo I have has a high rate of diarrhea for a few days and the other chemo has a high rate of vomiting.  Apparently, your body doesn't like poison chemo.  I'm guessing I'll feel like I did during college after a drinking binge.  So, nothing I can't handle, right?  Although, come to think about it, college was a long time ago and I bet I don't recover nearly as fast.  And, I probably won't have as many cool stories...  Did I ever tell you guys the time I nearly got arrested in my sexy devil costume?  I digress...

Okay, for all of you who brought care packages and gifts, sent messages of encouragement and prayer, a HUGE thank you!  I've got to say, aside from a quick blood draw and a Pulp Fiction like needle going into my port (that might be an exaggeration, but I assure you it felt like a huge needle!) today has been a piece of cake.  And they have wi-fi.  And comfy chairs.  And I plan on taking a nap.  No need to feel sorry for me... Goodness, I know I will eat these words later, but this almost feels like vacation.

Speaking of cake, I plan on eating my way through chemo, which probably isn't a great plan, as they said I will actually be one of the lucky ones who gain weight during chemo.  But, you do what you've got to do, right?!  They actually encourage you to eat your way through, so it's really like I'm following doctor's orders.

Speaking of eating, this is a picture of Richard last week before my PET scan.  He decided that he was done starving with me when they tell me I can't eat for 8-12 hours.  Sweet guy, I know he stuck it out with me as long as possible.  This is Richard getting ready to scarf down a Chik-Fil-A sandwich right in front of me.  As my stomach feels like it is eating itself.  Good thing he is cute, huh?!

Richard being the 'supportive' husband ~ eating in front of me while I haven't had anything to eat in over 12  hours.

I'll try to check in with everyone in a few days.  They've warned me that days 3-5 will be the worse, but there will be a roller coaster of symptoms, as some symptoms hit at different times during my chemo cycle.

Feeling more blessed than ever.  I know this is the 'easy' day, but we are in good spirits.  Much love everyone!

"It Might Be A Lot Scary"

I've been incredibly impressed with Cox in Springfield.  Since I got my cancer diagnosis, they have reached out to me every step of the way.  I even have a "breast navigator" who calls to offer resources and makes sure we are dealing with everything okay.  Her name is Laura, and from the moment I spoke with her she put my spinning mind at ease.  She 'gets it'.  She knows that it is more than hair that will just grow back (yes, I know it will grow back, but that doesn't take away the trauma of losing it).  She understands that I am young and have to go through cancer while raising a 4 year old. She gets that cancer is a family disease, not just the patient's.  She understands that sometimes you laugh your way through the process to keep from crying.  And she's cool with the crying, too.  She's a cancer counselor.  

In fact, last week, she met me at one of my doctor appointments to pass along a book that would help us explain things to Mason.  The book is called Mom and the Polka-Dot Boo Boo by Eileen Sutherland.  It's a cute little book that talks about mom being sick and taking medicine that might give her silly hair.  We've been very honest about telling Mase that mom is going to have silly hair and that some days she might be tired, but that is okay, because she is getting better.  We are trying to prepare him for the idea that even though I look different, I'm still the same mom, hence the short hair cut before all my hair falls out.  Mase thinks my new spiky hair is "silly and awesome."

Yesterday morning, Richard and Mase curled up on the couch and took a few minutes to read the book.  The conversation went a little like this:

Richard: So, Mase, Mom's hair is going to look silly.  Like Unke Jack's hair.  It might even be a little scary.
Mase:  {Sporting a big smile} It might be silly and A LOT scary!
Richard:  {Holding back the laughter} Yeah, it might be a lot scary, but that's okay.

Out of the mouth's of babes.  I love the special bond these two have.  I love that they can have bow and arrow wars one minute and then talk about 'life' stuff the next minute.

Oh, and Mase is wrapped up in a super soft blanket.  Nurse-extradionnare Jessica surprised me with it at my last appointment.  Mason has claimed it as his own, but I plan on re-claiming it very soon.

A Good Reminder...

Last night was Halloween.  I literally spent all day in bed, as I knew I would need to save my energy for trick-or-treating with Mase.  I tire very easily these days.  I've lost 5 pounds, which is a lot for me.   Seems I was just one breast cancer away from reaching my goal weight :).  My arms and legs are skinny, there is very little muscle tone left.  Not to worry, I plan on getting that back and my appetite is finally coming back.  I just knew I didn't want Mase to miss out on something because I was too tired to participate.  I know we will all have to make adjustments during this season, I just pray those adjustments don't interfere with him doing the things he loves to do.

Our friends, the Manselle's, hosted a fabulous Halloween party.  I cannot tell you how good it felt to be surrounded by some of our favorite families and watch Mase squeal with excitement during trick-or-treating.  Being around friends and seeing the kids get so excited was a good reminder that even though the journey is going to be tough, it is worth it.

Maverick and Mason keeping the neighborhood safe!

This morning, Richard went back to work.  I was sad to see him go.  He took excellent care of me the past two weeks.  He was nothing but kind and compassionate... Even anticipating my needs before they happened (he still wakes up at 2:30 in the morning and brings me my cool neck wrap).  It's not easy playing 24/7 nurse, Mr. Mom, cook, chauffeur, and housekeeper... But he did it enthusiastically and joyfully.  While Mase and I were sad to see him go, I think it will be good for all of us to get on with our lives.