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

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!  

Never Too Old to Need Mom

Since all these surgeries began, Richard and I have been so blessed that our Mom's have been there with us!  Whether it be waiting in the waiting room for hours on end waiting for me to get out of surgery, keeping Mase entertained, the house maintained, our Mom's have been there every step of the way.  Our mom's have seen us both at our worst, when we are tired, crying and broken.  They have also witnessed that our marriage is strong and that we will conquer this battle as a family.  They laugh with us when we feel like laughing and they cry with us when they see us hurting.

Val, my mother-in-law stayed with us several days after my mastectomy.  She was a huge help to both me and Richard, and of course Mase had her wrapped around his sweet little finger.  She was here when we got the cancer call.  I will never forget that.  She was her usual calm, steady and faithful.  She kept Mase busy so Richard and I could have some time to process the weight of the information that we had just received.  She never shuttered when she saw my scarred up body.  Never gave me a disapproving look as I navigated this crisis without estrogen (and admittedly sometimes without grace).  Not once judged me for using the word 'clusterfuck' in my blog... In fact she thought I made it up.  I wish!  

My mom came up to watch Mase for my surgery on Thursday.  She was supposed to leave today.  This morning, she came and laid down in bed with me and held my hand.  The thought of her leaving scared me and I told her I wasn't ready for her to leave yet... So she just looked into my dazed tired eyes and said "then I won't leave yet."  I know she had commitments back home.  I know she had been away from my dad for several days.  She didn't even hesitate to offer to stay longer and that  meant so much to me!

I know both of our mom's have obligations at home, yet put those aside because we weren't ready to let go yet.  One of them have been here since this whole journey started 10 days ago.  I dread the day things return to 'normal' and we don't get one of our mom's here.  They bring so much to our lives just by being the strong, caring, loving, nurturing women they are.  Sure do love you Mom and Val!  

Day 5 Update

I've been laying around a lot, taking lots of naps and have had people waiting on me hand and foot ~ I could get used to this!

Admittedly, the first 3 days were really tough.  I honestly don't remember a whole lot about them, other than every 2.5-3 hours feeling like I needed a pain pill.  I laid in bed all day, except for the occasional trip to the bathroom or out to the living room to see the fam.  Luckily, today I seem to be turning a corner.  I slept from 9pm-8am straight through!  I woke up this morning and decided I was going to try to stop the hydrocodone and make the move to ibuprofen.  So far so good!  Hydrocodone has some pretty nasty side effects, including drowsiness (to be honest, I like this side effect), itching and causing constipation.  I think I also developed a slight rash from it.

My goal for today:  Poo!  Goodness, it's been a few days and I've been reading all these horror stories online.  I've not really had much of an appetite, so I've mostly be snacking on fruit and granola, so I think that should help.  I've also been popping stool softeners like candy.  The last few days, I've felt gas moving through and noticed my stomach making gurgle sounds, so that's promising, too!  I'm happy to report that it finally happened.  My mother-in-law Val, Richard and Mason through me a nice little poo party when I came out of the bathroom!  It's good to feel so loved!

After going to the bathroom, rummaging around the kitchen and visiting with my family, I took a shower (all by myself I might add).  It was nice.  And it felt almost normal.  When you've been down and out for a few days, normal is such a great feeling!

My incisions:  To look at my incisions, you'd think I just had a few serious paper cuts on my stomach.  Seriously, it's embarrassing amazing that they performed surgery and that's all I have to show for it!  I keep reminding myself that there are internal stitches and that it is still important to take it easy, but I do feel silly for people making such a fuss over me and on the outside I have these little paper cuts.

3 incisions sites: one coming out of the bottom of my belly button and two above my pubic bone.  

I'd love to say that I've got a bad case of 'swelly belly' that a lot of hysterectomy patients talk about, but in all honesty, while it's a little swollen, this isn't too far off from what my stomach would look like normally.  Goodness, hysterectomies have came a long way!  My mom has a 6 inch battle scar from when she had her procedure 30 years ago.

My mother-in-law, Val, has been absolutely amazing though all of this!  She kept Mase during my surgery and then came home with us to help out.  Richard and I have really enjoyed her being here!  Mason has probably enjoyed her the most because she lets him have Bomb Pops for breakfast!  Seriously, it was so great to know while I was just chillin' in bed, my guys were taken care of.  Richard has also been absolutely amazing!  This has been no picnic for him.  He's had to do everything!  I know I've said it before, but I fall in love with him more and more everyday!  And, I know he's not just being nice in hopes of getting some action, because that's not going to happen for a long time!  

Okay, I think it's time for another nappy-poo (pun intended).

The Big Dance

My hysterectomy was yesterday morning, here's how the big dance went down... At least the parts that I can remember:

Tuesday afternoon we drove to Joplin and stayed with my in-laws.  My mother in law hosted a small birthday party for Mase which was a great distraction!  Surprisingly, I felt relatively calm all day.  Some nerves, but it was all very manageable.  I even managed to sleep really well from 10pm to around 2:30am.  I wasn't expecting to sleep much at all, so I'll count that as a win.

Wednesday

4:00 am - I 'wake up' get up and take a quick shower, as who knows when I will get to shower next.  Poor Richard is exhausted because little Mase suckered him into sleeping on the futon so they could have a father-son sleep over.  I get dressed and quietly go in to kiss Mase on the cheek.  I'm sad.  I know this hysterectomy decision affects my entire family.  On one hand, Mase won't ever get a sibling, on the other hand, I am doing this FOR my family.  

My mom was 8 years old when she lost her mom to ovarian cancer. Her mom wasn't there to teach her all the things little girls (and grown up girls) learn from their mom.  Admittedly, I still need my mom, which I'm sure will become all too evident after surgery.  Up to this point, I've always felt sorry for my mom, but now that I am a mom myself, I cannot imagine the array of pain my maternal grandmother, Mildred, must have gone through, too.  Obviously, physically cancer is rough.  But the emotional pain of knowing your kids aren't going to have you when they need you ~ I cannot even put it into words.  The hurt, sadness and worry she must have experienced...  I literally cannot imagine.  Grandma Mildred would have given anything to have the warning.  My mom, had a full on abdominal hysterectomy complete with a big scar to prove it purely out of fear that we would end up without our mother.  She knew that pain and she wanted to protect us from experiencing what she went through.  I'm doing the same for Mason.  He NEEDS me.  And that is why this BRCA warning is such a blessing.  This surgery protects me, it protects him and it protects our entire family.  

5:00 am - Richard and I leave for the hospital.  I'm nervous and my mouth is so dry, but they've told me absolutely no food or drink since midnight, so I quickly take a few sips of water when R isn't looking.  

Pre-Op
5:30 am - Richard and I are called back into the prep room where I am told to get completely undressed and to wipe down with these towelettes and use this mouthwash that made my mouth a bit sticky.  I put on my fancy gown, hairnet, and booties and we wait...  I'm so nervous my body is literally shaking.  Or maybe the room was cold.  Probably a combination of both.  

5:45 am - A nurse comes in to start my IV.  Shit's getting real and I continue to shake.  

6:30 am - Several people come in and ask me the same set of questions.  Then, the anesthesiologist comes in to introduce himself.  I keep my composure, but now realize that was a mistake.  Pretty sure Gill got knocked out on their first meeting since she turned on the tears.  Bummer!  He's leaving and I'm still awake!  Ugh, I fear I missed my window of opportunity to get knocked out early.  

6:45 am - DHL, my OBGYN, comes in to say good morning.  He's his usual calm, confident, reassuring self.  He's the reason why we drove 3 hours to have this procedure.  It's not lost on Richard and I that DHL helped bring our precious Mason into the world, and now he would be doing this surgery so that we could preserve our little family.  On a normal day, the gravity of that would have been huge.  But, frankly I quickly push that thought out of my head because I'm at maximum crazy capacity.  Still shaking.

I couldn't figure out how to get my hair net on.  

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!  

7:15 am - The nurse anesthetist comes in to introduce herself.  I like her.  She doesn't seem much older than me and appears confident and reassuring.  She offers me a little patch to put behind my ear that would cut down on nausea should I have any.  I hear someone in the hallway say it's time to roll.  Tears start flowing and Richard leans over to kiss me good bye.  I know it must have been so tough for him to leave me as I was crying.  I know if he could trade places with me, he would in a heartbeat.    One of my biggest fears was seeing him walk away.  I was hoping I wouldn't be awake for that moment.  But, it happened and I survived.

Surgery
My gurney gets pushed through several rooms and corridors.  We arrive in the operating room and my eyes are closed, because I am scared.  Occasionally I would open my eyes during the transport and it feels like people are lined up just watching me.  Come to think of it, they probably had to stop so that me and my big rolling bed wouldn't run them over.  They had warned me that before we get to the operating room I would feel a little breeze.  I felt the breeze, so I knew we were close.  Again, I occasionally peak at my surroundings, but I can't see much besides bright lights since I don't have my glasses on.  They ask me to scoot off my bed to the surgical gurney.  I don't remember much, but I remember the surgical gurney feels really small.  Someone tells me I'm skinny, so it's nice I fit.  Isn't that what everyone wants to hear right before they go under, that they are skinny?  The nurse anesthetist tells me she's going to give me something to relax and it can't come soon enough.  I remember her starting to put an oxygen mask close to my face and being able to smell the plastic.  That's the last thing I remember.  Not to self: Next time, I'm listening to Jill and turning on the water works in the surgery holding cell.

Post-Op
8:00 am - My surgery lasts about 45 minutes, so I'm told.  I don't remember much about the recovery area, but for some reason I am picturing a woman with long, big, blond hair.  Not sure if she's real or someone I made up.  

At some point, DHL talks to Richard and reports that all went well and that everything looked good and healthy.  What a relief this must have been on Richard.  He's a bit of a control freak, but in a good way.  He would give anything to protect me from being scared or hurt.  

I must have been in recovery for quite some time, but I don't remember much of it.  

10:30 am - I vaguely remember being wheeled to our room and R is in the hallway waiting for me.  Somehow I am transferred to the bed in my recovery suite.  Again, I don't remember much, but I do remember being in a significant amount of pain and writhing around.  Perhaps my pain meds from surgery had worn off or I was just coming to enough to realize the amount of pain I was in.  I was probably out of it where I wasn't even aware of my actions or what I was saying, but I was definitely awake enough to know I was hurting.  Richard tells me that they administer a pain med through my IV which must have been effective because again, I don't remember much past that.    

12:00 pm - We're in a double room, and they transfer me to a different bed, as the first bed I'm in seems to be having a few issues.  No biggie, I've got a morphine drip and I must be feeling pretty good at this point.  Again, I don't remember much, just bits and pieces of certain moments.  Did I mention I'm in the postpartum unit of the hospital.  Lucky for them I wasn't wearing my crazy pants just yet and even if I wanted to they wouldn't fit because I'm so bloated!, but putting a woman who just had a hysterectomy around babies seems like it has potential to be a disaster.  Lucky for me and everyone else around me, I wake up feeling good about my decision.  At least so far.  

At some point, I wake up and look up and my sister is walking in!  Again, I don't really remember much, but goodness, it meant a lot to me that she would come up and surprise me.  Like I've said, everyone deserves a Gill!  She brought me a grilled cheese and a peach mango tea.  I was so thirsty and hungry, but had a bit difficulty swallowing, probably because of the tube put down my throat during surgery.  

Jill, Richard and I hang out a bit, but I don't remember much of it.  I do remember taking a selfie :) for the blog.  Goodness, Gill is beautiful.  And I am pale and look a bit drunk.  Usually, Jill is the one that looks drunk in our selfies, because well...

Gill looks great.  I look like someone just ripped my insides out.  Oh wait, they did! 

I don't remember much of the remainder of the day.  I know I had trouble sleeping, but when I would go to sleep, it would be for 20-30 minutes, but it did feel like good sleep.  I also know I got up to walk a few time...  Perhaps the pain meds were working too good.  A few of the nurses were saying how great I looked for just having surgery since I was walking around.  I think those couple of walks will come back to bite me in my big o BRCA butt.  Oh, and I peed A LOT!  They make you pee in this top hat looking thing that measures your pee and I constantly was receiving fluids.

Around 3:30 the next morning, I called the nurses station to ask for another pill and they took my vitals and gave me a final dose of antibiotic.  R woke up with me and we ended up watching the Big Brother episode we missed.  Making memories at 3:30 in the morning.  Bonus, we were the only people in a double occupancy room, so R got to sleep in an actual bed.  Poor guy was flat out exhausted.  Yes, I had a big day, but let's be honest, so did he.  Sometimes I wonder if being the patient is the easy spot to be in.  He was dozing off, so I remember turning on some calming worship music to help us both get to sleep ~ it worked!  Either that or it was the morphine.  Let's just say it was the music though.

Me about 24 hours out from surgery.  I am so swollen  ~ everywhere!
Richard said it was a good look and wondered if we could take some of that fluid home.  Perhaps we show this swollen picture to Dr. Price before my mastectomy.  HAHA!  

My Pain
A few people have asked what current pain feels like.  Here's my best way of describing it... Imagine you have grossly over ate at Thanksgiving, and then you eat another plate (my mom calls this other plate a sampler, where she fixes herself one normal sized piece of every single dessert being served).  Then, you have one of those gas pains under your ribs that takes your breath away, paired with a giant, never-ending contraction.  And it feels like my bladder is constantly full.  It's uncomfortable, but it's not unbearable with the pain meds.  Pain meds mainly just take the edge off.  Admittedly the morphine drip I had in the hospital took the edge off quite a bit more than the hydrocodone they sent me home with.  Physically, I have three very small incisions.  One right under my belly button and two right above my pubic bone.  Surprisingly, there's been very little blood.  Although, BONUS!  I did manage to snag a few extra pair of those great, comfy mesh panties.  The nurse called them Fredrick's of Freemen (Hospital) undies.  Another interesting fact, my nurse actually has the BRCA gene too.  Her procedures will start in the next month.  

I'm Coming Home, Back Where I Belong (Richard and I used to cruise in the jeep, top down listening to this by Jay-Z and Skylar Gray)
We're home now, and my big goal for tomorrow is to pass some gas and take a shower.  That's right, I'm shooting for the stars!  Richard is currently laying next to me dropping bombs.  Pretty sure he's doing it to taunt me.  Every time he does it, and he's doing it a lot, he looks over at me, smiles, and then says he's sorry.  Richard: if you are sorry you will quit rubbing in the fact that you can fart and I can't.

Val, my sweet mother in law came up to help with Mase.  She's awesome!  She keeps wanting to do chores, but I'm hoping tomorrow she will just come lay in bed with me.

That's it for now... getting drowsy.  

Appreciate all the prayers, messages and texts.  God is good all the time.