Who is the Weak One?

Four years ago, Alan and I sat in my doctor's office, waiting for her to come in.  About a month before that, I had gone in for a visit because I felt a lump in my right breast.  I was still breast-feeding a then-six-month-old Adam, so it was tough for them to tell anything.  They asked if I would feel comfortable stopping the breastfeeding so they could get a better image.  So I went back two weeks later and the lump was gone - determined to be a clogged milk duct.  Two weeks after that, I felt another lump.  This time on the left.  A lump that made my heart stop for a beat.  So back I went.  My doctor saw me, hesitantly, noting that my chart was marked "paranoid" (this wasn't the first time I'd been in for a lump...or second...or eighth).  As she got ready to examine me, she said, "You know it's not cancer.  Cancer's so far down on the list."  Nevertheless, she thought it was something, so she ordered an ultrasound.  At the ultrasound, the radiologist thought it was something, so he ordered a biopsy.  I had the biopsy done and was told my doctor would call me to talk about the results.

Tuesday morning, March 20, 2007, I got a call from General Surgery.  They wanted to know when I would like to come in and speak with the surgeon.  "For what?" I replied.  "Oh. (pause)  Has your doctor not called you?"  "No.  Is this about the biopsy?  What's going on?"  "Ma'am, we're going to need to schedule you for a consultation with the surgeon.  Your doctor should be calling you soon to give you more information."  WHAT?!?  Big oops going on here.  But I wasn't getting anything out of this girl, so I scheduled the appointment and hung up.  Thirty seconds later, my doctor calls and needs to schedule an appointment ASAP.  So Alan met me there later that day and here's how it went:

My doctor walked in to the room, sat down on her little spin-y stool, and said, "Well, it's not good.  It's cancer."  I know she said some other stuff after that, but she lost me at "cancer."  All I could think about was what she said to me when she examined me.  How totally wrong she had been.  Not a little wrong.  Totally.  I remember she seemed to know absolutely nothing and was no help to us in answering any of the immediate questions we had.  She left me with a piece of paper that she had printed out after no doubt Google-ing "breast cancer".  I was so disappointed.  And scared.  But oddly enough, not totally shocked.

I had always felt some sort of special connection to my Nanny (my Dad's Mom).  She was girly and liked Estee Lauder lipstick and shopping - so that connection was obvious, but that wasn't it.  My Nanny was a breast cancer survivor and a recurrence of the disease is what ultimately took her from us.  That was it.  There was something about her battle with that disease that felt incredibly personal to me.  I knew I would fight that battle.  I know it sounds weird and creepy and scary, but I just knew.  I just didn't know I would be so young when I fought.  So my shock at being diagnosed was more because of my age.  Only about 5% of all breast cancers occur in women under the age of 40.  How special am I, right?

Over the next three weeks I had two surgeries to remove the lump.  Then, over the next three months I had four rounds of chemotherapy.  And over the next 7 weeks, I had daily radiation treatments.  By the end of October, I was finished with the intensive treatment. 

Cancer did a lot of ugly things to me.  It made me sick.  It made me bald.  It made me skinny.  It made me scared.  It stole my innocence.  It made me look weak.  But you know what?  Cancer did a lot of good things to me, too.  Cancer really is so limited.  I might even say that Cancer is the one who is weak.  It made me realize that I might have looked weak, but I was STRONG.  It made me savour my loves, friendships, hopes, and memories.  It did not conquer my spirit or my Faith.  In fact, it restored my Faith to a new level.  It did not shatter my dreams.  It made me realize that bald is beautiful...and that summer, I really enjoyed not having to shave my legs or armpits!  It made me thankful for Adam, since we might not be able to have any more children.  It made me thankful for Alan and how strong and dependable and loving he is.  It made me skinny (because while this was considered a "negative" side effect, let's be honest...).  It gave me Anaya and Audie.  This one's a long story about the pain I have endured as a result of the chemo, which I ultimately believe resulted in twins...Or, maybe cancer was God's test for me and He found out I was tough enough for twins.  Sort of his way of saying, "Okay, now if you thought that was tough..."  Amazing.  If I had to have cancer to get everything I have today, then I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Four years.  Just like that.  

The day Alan took Command of Rebeleven...Also the day my hair fell out

Alan and me after shaving our heads that night

Pennie's wedding...in a wig

High School Reunion...in a wig

My last chemo treatment!

2007 Race for the Cure, which Mom and Robin came and surprised me for

My 2007 RFTC Team - the Commandant of Cadets ran with me, along with a few of Rebeleven's cadets and some great friends

2008 RFTC, where I finished THIRD among Survivors!  Those are a bunch of Alan's cadets running with me.

2008 RFTC Team - what a difference a year makes!  About 100 cadets also volunteered on race day.

2009 RFTC in Omaha (while pregnant with the twins)

I missed the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in 2010, which broke my heart.  Komen had a direct influence on my cancer treatment and I appreciate this organization.  So, I couldn't sit idly by in 2011.  I have started a team for the 2011 Global Race for the Cure, June 4th.  Although we can't get to Washington, D.C. for the race, we are going to run it here in Oki.  So, feel free to be a part of our Warriors on the Rock team.  Donate if you can.  You can also register and be a part of my team!  And on June 4th, put your shirt on and go out in your town and run a 5K.  I would be honored to have you.

I'm participating in the 2011 Susan G. Komen Global Race for the Cure.  Feel free to join me or donate by clicking here.