One of the Happiest Places On Earth

My apologies if you get tired of all the Jeep pictures I post...  Truth is that our Jeep is one of my happiest places on Earth.  It reminds me of when Richard and I were dating.  We fell in love on country back roads, just cruising around with the top down, sipping on Starbucks, and belting out some of our favorite songs.

I remember being pregnant with Mason and imagining family Jeep rides, just as my family did when we were kids.

I remember this winter, driving to chemo, when Richard and I decided to trade the Tahoe in for yet another Jeep because we realized life was just too short to not make memories.  Yes, the Tahoe was extremely comfortable, but Jeeps are where memories made.  It took all of one day for Richard to make the switch (as you can see, I really had to twist his arm!! HA!).

And yesterday, as we celebrated Father's Day, I loved feeling the wind in my hair, the sun on my head, our kiddo laughing in the back and seeing my handsome husband lead our family down gravel roads, taking in the moment.  We still fall in love on our Jeep rides.  In love with each other.  In love with our family.  And in love with the life we have been given.

One Step Forward, One Step Back

*Disclaimer* I'm writing this post with full intentions of publishing it in a few days. So by the time any of you read this, it will be old news to me.  I say that because I don't at all want people worrying about me.  I fully believe I am fine, I'll just feel better when the doctors believe the same thing.

6-17-15
So recently a few friends and I have talked about doing a half-marathon.  There is even one on my cancer-versary that we talked about signing up for.  As I was sitting in the waiting room for a follow-up appointment, my friends sent me a text saying there was a discount code available if you signed up for the race today so naturally in all my excitement to save $7.50, I stupidly naively signed up for the Waddell & Reed Kansas City Half Marathon, forgetting that I will actually have to complete 13.1 miles.  Well played Waddell & Reed, this girl loves a bargain and fell right into your trap!  Yes, I got so excited about saving $7.50 that I took the plunge to sign up for a half marathon I am no where near prepared for!

As I was feeling a little nauseous/excited about signing up for this race, I over confidently thought to myself "I'm going to show cancer that she's messed with the wrong lady!  I WIN!" I could feel my swagger coming back.  One step forward in me taking back my life.  

Literally one minute later, my breast surgeon walks in the room.  We do our nice greetings and I take my top off for him (that's how we roll).  He feels around a little bit and becomes concern over a mass.  I had assumed it was nothing, just part of the healing process, but he isn't quite so sure.  I think he's feeling this mass for awhile (admittedly, since I have zero feeling in my breast, I can't say for how long or how aggressively he was feeling around there).  I usually shut my eyes during the exam, you know to keep it less awkward.  He recommends I go for an ultrasound.  

The office folks at both my surgeon's office and the Cox Breast Center bend over backwards to get me in the same day.  I intended this to be a quick 10 minute appointment, and it just turned into a one hour appointment.  No biggie.  Right?

I waited a bit to get called back by the ultrasound tech.  I didn't mind, the waiting area had several tables with jigsaw puzzles on them.  I love puzzles!  (What a genius idea to keep women busy instead of sitting there worried - nice job Cox Breast Center!).  After a 30 minute ultrasound and some chit chat with the tech, she tells me the doctor will review my images and she'll be back shortly.  

2 hours later: I wait.  And then the tech comes back and says the doctor wants to see a mammogram of the mass.  I didn't know you could mammogram an implant, but it turns out you can.  At this point I start to get worried.  What is on that ultrasound that is so worrisome that warrants them risking breaking my new boob?

After the ultrasound, and the mammogram I finally meet with the doctor for yet another ultrasound.  She says something doesn't look right.  She explains that when they do ultrasounds they can often confidently say it's nothing or confidently say it's cancer and in my case she couldn't confidently tell me either way.  

My thoughts: Shit! What do you mean something doesn't look right?  I just signed up for this race.  What if I can't do my race?  Oh my God!  What the f$@# is happening right now?  Am I going to die? It's cancer.  No! It's nothing.  They are just being careful because they don't want to get sued.  I know how this works.  Stop playing games!  I won't sue!  Just tell me what is going on! Oh gosh, Richard has been with Mason in the car for a long time.  They both are probably going crazy.  What if one of them needs to poop?  Can we just hurry this up, please?

3 and a half hours later: The doctor suggests a biopsy is in order.  Or we can just wait and see and I can come back in a few weeks.  F that!  We need to figure this thing out like yesterday.  Luckily, they worked me in for a needle core biopsy... She took 3 samples with this thing that makes a loud, startling clicking noise (sort of like one of Mason's toy guns).  One step back.

And now we wait... Again...  

I'm 94% confident this isn't a big deal.  Perhaps some necrosis (which sounds really bad, but I don't think it's a huge deal) and the other 6% of me is scared shitless.  I've had that "it's not a big deal" feeling before... And I couldn't have been more wrong.  

On the bright side, after we returned home, my friends had left bags of Oreos on my counter to do an Oreo taste test.  They know me SO well!

UPDATE
6-21-15  Richard and I handled the stress of waiting for the results really well this weekend.  Until 9:30 when he went to the bathroom and I went to bed.  We both secretly started looking up information on Google.  Goodness, that's one way to get yourself whipped up into a frenzy fast!  I told Richard that I could handle another surgery.  But that another round of chemo would be devastating.  And the thought of starting all over when we had just arrived at the point where we could see the light at the end of the tunnel felt like too much.  We prayed.  And vowed to stop looking at Google for the night.

At 10:42pm, my phone rang.  It was Dr. Buchner.  Seeing his name come up on my phone brought back a flood of memories the last time I saw his name on my phone.  He said the mass was benign - no cancer!  He also said a bunch of other stuff that I didn't catch because I heard the words we so desperately needed to hear!  What an incredible blessing!

Also a blessing is that I have a surgeon who saw the results at 10:45pm, after a long day, and took the time to call me, knowing I was probably on pins and needles waiting for the outcome.

My Friends Would Walk/Run/Swim 1,000 Miles for Me

Humbled. 

About 25 members of my family (both the Gillispie side and the Moss side) showed up to walk laps at Relay for Life. My sister and her family even flew in from Florida.

My friend, Susan, ran Joplin's Race4Hope in my honor. 

My girlfriends walked in the pouring rain during the TaTa Trot.

 My friends, Grace (age 6) and Alex (age 8), participated in the Splash Out Cancer swim meet. Grace won a medal for the 100 Meter Relay and gave it to me!  Such a sweet gesture from a stunning girl with a beautiful heart! 

And these girls have committed to completing a half-marathon with me by my cancer-versary.  There is actually one that takes place on October 17th, the date I got the call.  Coincidence?  I think not.  

  

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...