Running is Stronger Than Cancer and Lemon Pie Sounds Pretty Darn Good

Over the weekend, my husband, my boys, my Stacie, her children, her survivor mama and my Stephanie did the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. My husband, the boys and I used some of our fancy credit card points to stay at a hotel near the start of the race. I am sure I sound like a crazy person, but it makes me feel more "normal" to go on these little staycations while we are battling this cancer {yes, WE, my cancer is my husband's cancer, my cancer is my children's cancer, we are in this together, WE are battling this together!}. We played around the hotel and shopping area, went swimming, had a nice dinner out at a favorite Thai noddle shop, and slept on a crazy kind of "bed continent" which we created using our king size, the roll away and two chairs fashioned into a sort of crib type situation.

Hanging out at the Curious George exhibit. Which one is the monkey?

We then woke bright and early after a not so fabulous night of sleep to attend the walk/run {I ran.....the whole thing...I just feel like I need to say that...it makes me feel good...so there!}. I am not sure how it is in other cities, but in our city, there are at least 30,000 people in attendance, it's pretty incredible. Say what you want about Komen, but I was really craving the inspiration that comes from seeing other people who have been through this and have come out the other side. I really wanted to see that I am not alone and that there is LIFE after a cancer diagnosis. It also helped to see {although I am sad to see it} that there are many many women in my age group who are currently on this special little life detour. In fact, I briefly interacted with one woman on the elevator, while running back to the room to grab my headphones, who looked not a whole lot older than me who battled cancer in 1997!!! 1997!!! Oh.my.goodness! She must have been SO young! I didn't really ask her about her story, because I was pretty close to losing it, but she did tell me after asking if I was currently in treatment that, "It get's better, it does." and I believe her, because she knows. Most of the time I am a bit embarrassed by my diagnosis, like I think I should have been smart enough to catch it sooner, or I should have lived my life in a way where it never would have happened in the first place, {which I don't actually believe is possible, no rhyme or reason to this disease!}. However, seeing all of the women, men, families, friends, etc affected by breast cancer made me realize that there is NO WAY I would blame anyone else for their diagnosis, so why in the world am I sitting here blaming myself?  I know I can't change the past, I can't change my diagnosis, but I CAN change what I take away from it.

I'm the one in the hat. ;~) Also, that top left is so dorky, but oh well.

 I am still not sure what I am going to gain from this journey {people always talk about gaining things after cancer}, but I know it's got to be something. I have an inkling that it's going to be a lesson in control, as in "You can't control everything, and you CERTAINLY can't control this!", but I am just not sure. You hear a lot of people saying, "Cancer taught me to appreciate life and really slow down", but I like to think that I already had a pretty darn good appreciation for life. I mean, I already stop and {literally} smell the roses. I already notice on drives home when the moon looks super cool at night, and call my husband to tell him to look as well. I already point out the pretty things in the world to my sweet boys and try to remember to follow their lead and allow them to move at THEIR pace. I try not to hurry and rush my way through life. I try to be aware and in the moment. I smile at people and really really try to see the best in everyone and in the world in general. I truly do believe there is more good than not out there, but maybe I haven't been appreciating the world ENOUGH. Maybe. I just don't know. I know that makes it sound like I think God or some higher power did this to me for some "greater purpose", which I am somehow in charge of figuring out, but I don't really believe that. God doesn't want this, not for me, not for anyone. Ever. I refuse to believe that God said, "Hey, you know what Heather needs? A little bit o' cancer. THAT should really make her love life!". Cancer is stupid and awful and it sucks and it makes God just as sad and angry as it makes me, so no, I don't believe God "gave" me this. I guess what I do believe is that crap just happens sometimes, but it's up to me to try and make something of it.  And THAT RIGHT THERE is something God did give me, the abilty to make something of it. I was given my fight, my ability to hope, my love for life, and my joy in the small things. Not cancer, definitely not cancer.

I guess it's that whole "when life gives you lemons...." thing, right? I have my lemons, now I need to decide what to do with them and right about now, a pie sure is sounding nice. :~)

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That took a little turn at the end I wasn't expecting. Haha, oh well. And now, an update:

Last Friday I had my 9th out of 12 infusions of the Abraxane/ Herceptin leg of the trial. It was a crappy day. A crap-crap-crappity-crap day. My mom tripped over one of our boys while babysitting and broke her humerus. Bummer. Major major bummer. So this meant I was worried about my mom, worried about the boys being traumatized, and worried because Matt was unable, for the first time, to come to treatment. Matt not being able to attend treatment sent me into a panic. I am a person of ritual, he had been there every time, things had gone well when he was there, what was going to happen if he wasn't able to come? For my friends/ family who have wanted to come to treatments, this is why you haven't been there. It's not because I don't love you or because I don't want you to see it, it's because I need him there, he's my lucky charm, and there is only one chair. :~) Well, anyway, my labs were taking longer than normal to come back and I found out that they were having to count my white blood cells manually because they "might be low". Holy crap. This had never happened before and I started to panic, a lot. A nice volunteer walked in to a crying mess and later came back bearing gifts, so that was nice, she must have felt really bad for me. Eventually, the nurse came in and my counts were "fine", but I made the mistake of asking to see them and then worried over every.single.thing. Ugh. It was not the finest of mornings. Ultimately though, I got my treatment and it did go well, but still. No thanks.

So this week's "begging for prayers/ energy" section is as follows:

1. That the cancer is being eradicated from my body and will NEVER return again. {of course}
2. That on Friday, when we meet with Dr. K, he is still impressed by the progress being made and we can leave the appointment feeling geared up to continue fighting.
3. That my counts are good enough to go forward with treatment, and that we don't have a scare like last week. Seriously. I did not like that.
4. That I can feel peace about the fact that I can still feel the lymph nodes. I have been harboring an insane amount of worry over this lately and it needs to stop. Please just help me to let it go.
5. That we are able to GET BUSY LIVING and enjoy a fantastic weekend with friends, family and food, because there are some super fun things going on!

Thank you everyone for your support. I hope you know how much it means to us.