Relay for Life 2015

This weekend, we all met up for Branson's Relay for Life.  And when I say 'we all' I mean nearly my entire family ~ both the Gillsipie's and the Snyder/Moss side.  Parts of the event was somber, which quite honestly, was a bit uncomfortable, although cancer can be somber, so it was appropriate.  I have to remind myself, that I'm a lucky one who made it through, relatively unscathed (I lost my breasts and my hair, but many people lose much, much more). 

I was thinking what my Relay for Life would be like if I set it up.  We aren't really the somber type.  We are the loud, crass, laugh, joke, toast-to-life type.  I wasn't sure of the song that was played during the Survivor lap (it was a serious one), but if I would have picked it, it would have been Eye of the Tiger by Survivor (coincidence?  I think not.).  And when I finished my Survivor's lap, my dad would have handed me a stiff run and Coke and my entire family would have clinked glasses and toasted to living life.  And then if things got too mushy, someone, would make an inappropriate joke.  

Cancer has shown me so many things... One of the things I am most grateful for is for the reminder of what an amazing family I have, and what an amazing family I married into.  

My sister Jill and her family flew up all the way from Florida for the weekend.

It's so rare that we are all together.  I just wanted one picture.  And this is the best one I got.  

You can't see Josh, because he is out of frame, but he walked with us, too.  So blessed to be a part of this family! 

Yay!  Sister time!  Isn't Jill's hair gorgeous?! 

Gillispie Girls!  100% real and genuine, although all our boobs are 100% fake.  That's okay because they were trying to get us.  They didn't know they picked the wrong family to mess with!

So blessed to be a Gillispie.  

My dad and his 'goos' as he calls us.
Jill Bean and Julie Bug 

Mase had a blast seeing his cousin Jack.  We hit up Silver Dollar City.

I wanted one good picture and Mase would only give me his tough guy face. 

Shout Out to My Peeps

Today I will be walking in the Relay for Life.  As I prepare for the day, I'm thinking about this past year ~ It's been pretty un-freaking-believable.

I'm thinking about the Survivors lap.  Seems so surreal to call myself a Survivor.  The word is so empowering.  It takes my breath away.  8 months ago, I didn't even know I had cancer.  And today I can say I beat it.  As my friend Carrie so eloquently put it: Gotcha Bitch!

I'm thinking about the Caregivers lap and it brings tear to my eyes. A few shout outs to my peeps:

God: Who gave me strength when I didn't have any more to give.  Who loves me, despite my potty-mouth and the avalanche of sins I commit every day.  Who's presence I felt in my darkest hour.

My sister, Jill: Taking an hour worth of selfies with me in the hospital because she looked better than me (I of course don't remember doing this at all, but I believe her when she tells me the story).  And the time I convinced her that it would make me feel better if she shaved her head, too (of course I was kidding, but I had her going there for about 45 minutes).  Who showed up before and after surgeries even though I know it was hard for her to see me like that.

My mother-in-law, Val: Who was there when I got the cancer call.  She just gave me and Richard a long, silent hug.  It was exactly what we needed in that moment.  She also cheered for me when I had my first post-surgery poo.  For anyone who's had surgery and been on pain meds, you know that's a big deal!  Kept my house together at a time when Richard and I were falling apart.

My mom, Donna: When I called to tell her the news, she was driving.  I told her in the happiest voice I could muster to call me when she got home.  She demanded that I immediately tell her what was wrong.   Drove me to the salon when I had to shave my head.  Held my hand during my sick days, even when I slept.  Woke up with me at 2am to eat ice cream and cereal because I couldn't sleep.  Rubbed my shoulders when the bone aches were just too much.  Supported my crazy ideas when I was on a steroid high. My family for supporting me with thoughts, prayers and phone calls when they couldn't physically be there.

My friends: Who showered me with love, encouragement, prayer, meals, gifts, chemo parties, new boob parties, made me laugh and listened to me cry.  Who walked miles in the rain for me.  My friend Natalie even shaved her head in support of me.  Who does that?

Mason: Who accepted me with my new 'haircut', always gently hugged me, was patient and content sitting around the house when I didn't feel well enough to be a interactive mom, let me nap when needed, made me laugh.  He doesn't know it, but he sacrificed a lot the past 8 months.  He's the reason why I kept fighting when things got tough.  

Richard: Who has been with me every step of the way.  Telling me I was beautiful, even when I didn't feel beautiful.  Made sure I rested and did whatever I needed to take care of myself.  Accompanied me on every single appointment.  Was 'mom' and 'dad' when I didn't have the energy to be Mom.  Assured me everything was going to be okay.  Prayed.  Played worship and rap music before an appointment to pump me up.  Sat through hundreds of hours of chemo and appointments.  Made me laugh and held me when I cried.  Sometimes would even cry with me.  Remind me that all that matters is the little family we created.

Defeated but Not Deflated

Last week I had an appointment with my plastic surgeon.  I'm nearly six weeks out of surgery and was given the all clear to wear a regular, non-underwire bra instead of these dreadful, tight sport bras.  I left his office excited; Dreaming of all the sexy lingerie I hadn't been able to wear in years due to my large, post-pregnancy, somewhat saggy breasts.  And when I say sexy lingerie I mean a matching bra and panty set.  Let's be honest, I'm 36, a stay-at-home, work-from-home mom.  Matching is about as good as it gets.  Sorry R!

So, I set out to the local mall, with a fist full of money, my body pumping with adrenaline, breasts full of silicone, and a head filled with unrealistic expectations.  This was going to be the start of a 'new me' - sassy and sexy.  My body had been through Hell and I was ready to treat it to some new under-things.

I walked into the store and I shit you not, it felt like a foreign place to me.  I've been buying bras for over 24 years and it was like I forgot what to do.  I didn't even know what size I was.  I couldn't even guess.  But, that's okay, because I got sidetracked with all the pretty, colorful, lacy bras.

Ladies, I know I don't have to explain this to you, but for the guys out there, let me explain something to you: for some girls, bras are a cute little accessory for their cute little boobies (if you fit into this category, more power to you!) and then there are those of us who NEED a real bra (not an accessory bra), even better if the bra designer had some sort of architecture or engineering degree.  We are talking underwire, reinforced snaps (3 at minimum, as two likely won't cut it), substantial cups and nice, big, thick comfy straps.  I've always been one who needed a bra, but now I was one of the lucky few who could wear accessory bras on occasion.  How exciting, right?!

So, while I'm like a shark attracted to shiny things, I'm looking around the store and everything has an underwire.  Underwires are a no-no, at least for now.  I'm not exactly sure why, maybe so I don't spring a leak if the wire were to poke me?  No biggie, I didn't need an underwire for the first time in my life.  Anyhow, after about 5 minutes of searching in this small store, I finally ask the associate where the non-underwire bras are.  She lead me over to the a wall full of beige granny panties and bras in boxes (gasp!).  Apparently, these bras were so ugly they warranted a box.  I'm also pretty sure neither of my grandmother's (God rest their sweet souls) wouldn't have been caught dead in one of these dreadful things.  No lace.  No colors.  No embellishment.  My dreams and hopes were crushed.

I walked out feeling defeated.  The search continues...

An Update: Body Hair, Barf, Boobs, and a Bear

Sorry it's been awhile since I've posted... I've been busy LIVING!  Life is good...  Nope, it's GREAT!

A few observations I've had these past couple of weeks:

1.  My hair (everywhere!) is really starting to come back!  Richard tells me there's a lot of gray, but that's okay because there's hair color for that.  He said I no longer look like a cancer patient, just like someone who shaved my head (Thanks?! I think??).  Now, if only the hair on my head would grow as quickly as the hair everywhere else (TMI?).  Time to invest in some razors... and perhaps some laser hair removal.

2.  I've really been trying to focus on getting healthy... Walking a lot and watching my diet.  I gained nearly 25lbs. the past 8 months and would love to shed some of the weight.  I've been at it over a month with walking almost non-stop all day.  I typically walk between 8-10 miles a day (I know this thanks to my trusty Apple watch) and I've lost a total of 2lbs.  WTF?  I have put on some muscle, which is good.  You lose a lot of muscle when you lay around for 6 months.  Anyway, I'll keep trucking away at it.  Really trying to adopt the mindset that I'm doing all I can do and let the results fall where they may.  I used to be able to drop weight pretty easily and I've never worked this hard at it and had such dismal results.  Perhaps it is my gaining muscle?  Or the hormone shit-storm my body has endured?  I'm not sure... I'll keep plugging away though.

3.  The other day I did get a kick in the pants ~ God has a way of doing that to us, you know?  I was getting my Herceptian treatment and the poor woman next to me was vomiting.  Like, nearly the entire time.  Here I am complaining about my weight gain (which I did to myself!) and this woman can't hold anything down.  After I threw my half eaten lunch away and did some breathing exercises to keep myself from vomiting, tears started to flow down my cheeks.  This woman was fighting for her life against this stupid f'n disease and as if just fighting and surviving wasn't enough, she had to deal with the vomiting on top of it.  It's so unfair.  Cancer sure is a bitch.  Her name was Mary.  I so badly wanted to comfort her but also wanted to give her some privacy (by the way, there is almost no privacy in the infusion room).  Take a moment to say a prayer for Mary.

4.  Speaking of the infusion room:  Most of you have probably never seen an infusion room, and to those of you who have, I'm sorry.  The infusion room isn't much to look at ~ about 20 recliners lined up against a wall of windows, each with an IV pole on one side and a chair for a guest on the other.  But, I want to tell you (at least in my experience) what an infusion room feels like.  Some days I walk in and it feels very sad.  There are some very old patients in very rough shape.  I shutter to think that these folks don't have much time left and they are spending it like this.  (I've got to be honest, if it were me later in life, I think I might just throw in the towel.)  But for the most part, it feels like family.  Weird, huh?  Everyone is there for the same reason ~ while we have different diagnosis we all have heard those dreaded words that make you literally go weak in the knees: "You have cancer."  There is no judgement about your hair or your dress.  No judgement about your weight or even your attitude.  Everyone in that room is fighting a battle.  Admittedly, most battles are worse than mine.  So, while we are all there for treatment, nearly every person I've met there (and you meet a lot of people when your treatment lasts for 6+ hours) is encouraging, kind, and empathetic (and some poor souls are vomiting, but that's besides the point).

5.  Okay, I know some of you read this just to keep up with my legendary boobs (kidding!).  So, here's an update:  They look fantastic and like they did 10 years ago, pre-Mason.  To you, they would feel soft and squishy, to me they feel... well like nothing.  Still absolutely no feeling in them (I've told my friends to let me know if I have a nipple exposed at the pool, as I wouldn't even know!).
I've been given the all clear to start running, which has taken away all motivation to actually run (funny how that works, huh?).  Seriously, it's amazing what they've been through, sliced apart, gutted, filled, stuffed and then put back together again.  It wasn't an easy process.  In fact, the mastectomy was probably the hardest thing I've had to endure in my life.  Not an easy process.  Shout out to my sister, my mom, and any of my readers who have endured the surgery.  Wear those battle wounds with pride!

6.  While I was at treatment trying not to join Mary in yaking, my boys had "Guy Time" which ended with a $75 Build-A-Bear.  Mercy!  Good thing my boys are cute!

Friends Come Hell or High Water

How do these girls look this beautiful in the pouring rain?  

I've mentioned that I run with a group of friends that are there for me come Hell or high water. This morning was no exception.

We all signed up for the Tata Trot 5k weeks ago, a race to benefit breast cancer research. I was so humbled thinking that these girls would get up early, arrange for childcare, and give up their Saturday morning to walk in something that is now near and dear to my heart.  I mean, we all know how precious sleep is to moms, right?!

This morning, the torrential rain started.  I gave everyone an 'out' saying I would completely understand if they just wanted to skip it.  Nope.  These girls were committed.  Not to the 5k, but to me.  As they have been for the last year.

The race shirts said "Cancer, we're coming to get you".  To which my friend Carrie replied, "Gotcha bitch".  See why I love these ladies?

As the race started, the rain turned into a mist.  We laughed the entire way telling stories and poking fun at Maria because her legs were burning after mile marker one.  Isn't that true friendship when you refuse to talk behind their back, but are willing to say damn near anything to their face?

What a great morning we had!  Looking forward to many more!  

My friend Carrie made us these buffs, she's crafty like that.
Left to right: Carrie, me, Brooke, Kristan, Maria, Becky and Whitney

My circle of friends.

Freedom!

I'm two weeks out from my exchange and feeling fabulous - mainly because my new boobs got a taste of freedom last night. For the first time in 2 weeks I got to take the vice sports bra off and let things air out.  For weeks I've had that "can't wait to get home and take my bra off" feeling (all you girls know what I'm talking about) and not been able to.  Ahhh... Such a relief to take that blasted bra off.  I must say I really enjoyed my 7 months of not wearing a bra.

I also went for a long, brisk walk today and even snuck in a few stretches of trotting (I'm calling it a trot because I was told I'm still not supposed to run). It felt amazing!  I forgot how much I missed getting my sweat on (at least though exercise; Admittedly I get my sweat on most nights due to night sweats).  I'm finally feeling well enough to get back in a routine and it's so good for me physically, but also emotionally and spiritually.

Today during my trot I actually started cry (it was a happy cry).  I felt so blessed to be feeling good again.  It's been a long 7 months.  Blame it on my mania feeling better but I'm even contemplating training for a half marathon (of course waiting until I get the all clear from my doctors). I'd love to complete a half marathon by my one year cancer-versary. 1. It would certainly help with my 20 pound weight gain 2. If I can beat cancer, then surely I can complete 13.1 miles, right?! 3. Most importantly, it would be my way of giving cancer the middle finger.

Who's with me?

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!).