Today I had two of my tests: the MUGA (for heart issues related to Herceptin) and the DEXA (for bone density) tests. I have not yet had further genetic testing because we're waiting to see if insurance will cover it.
The MUGA went well. There were no significant changes from previously, and I believe that this means that I will qualify for a second year of Herceptin, perhaps improving my odds even more. The study data on extended (more than one year) use of Herceptin isn't in yet, but I'm hoping that more is better. I'm very happy about this.
The results of the DEXA were not so good. I have lost 11% of the bone density in my spine since last year. This is way, way, way more than I expected, and I'm really upset by it. I'm borderline for osteopenia (the precurser of osteoporosis), still in the okay zone, but I am expected to lose some bone density annually from here on out (menopausal, no estrogen due to the lack of ovaries, and taking drugs - Femara - that promote bone loss) and this rate is truly terrifying. A lifetime of bone fractures is scary. 20% of women with hip fractures from osteoporosis die of complications.
CRAP.
Part of what is making me so sad is that I'm trying so, so, so hard to be healthy and strong and to take positive control of my health, and I'm eating healthy food and exercising and taking calcium and vitamin D and all the rest....so it feels so grossly unfair.
Today I was listening to a Sheryl Crow song, "No one ever said it would be easy; but no one ever said it would be this hard." That about sums it up right now.
Don't get me wrong. Life is busy in mostly wonderful ways. I feel healthy and strong. Mostly, I feel optimistic. But today, I'm saddened by the news that my body has yet another challenge to deal with, and I feel overwhelmed by it. Tomorrow, my PollyAnna attitude can return...but today I'm tired.
Kristina
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Test results
Today I had two of my tests: the MUGA (for heart issues related to Herceptin) and the DEXA (for bone density) tests.
The MUGA went well. There were no significant changes from previously, and I believe that this means that I will qualify for a second year of Herceptin, perhaps improving my odds even more. The study data on extended (more than one year) use of Herceptin isn't in yet, but I'm hoping that more is better.
The results of the DEXA were not so good. I have lost 11% of the bone density in my spine since last year. This is way, way, way more than I expected, and I'm really upset by it. I'm borderline for osteopenia (the precurser of osteoporosis), still in the okay zone, but I am expected to lose some bone density annually from here on out (menopausal, no estrogen due to the lack of ovaries, and taking drugs - Femara - that promote bone loss) and this rate is truly terrifying. A lifetime of bone fractures is scary. 20% of women with hip fractures from osteoporosis die of complications.
CRAP.
Part of what is making me so sad is that I'm trying so, so, so hard to be healthy and strong and to take positive control of my health, and I'm eating healthy food and exercising and taking calcium and vitamin D and all the rest....so it feels so grossly unfair.
Today I was listening to a Sheryl Crow song, "No one said it would be easy; but no one said it would be this hard." That about sums it up right now.
Don't get me wrong. Life is busy in mostly wonderful ways. I feel healthy and strong. Mostly, I feel optimistic. But today, I'm saddened by the news that my body has yet another challenge to deal with, and I feel overwhelmed by it. Tomorrow, my PollyAnna attitude can return...but today I'm tired.
Kristina
The MUGA went well. There were no significant changes from previously, and I believe that this means that I will qualify for a second year of Herceptin, perhaps improving my odds even more. The study data on extended (more than one year) use of Herceptin isn't in yet, but I'm hoping that more is better.
The results of the DEXA were not so good. I have lost 11% of the bone density in my spine since last year. This is way, way, way more than I expected, and I'm really upset by it. I'm borderline for osteopenia (the precurser of osteoporosis), still in the okay zone, but I am expected to lose some bone density annually from here on out (menopausal, no estrogen due to the lack of ovaries, and taking drugs - Femara - that promote bone loss) and this rate is truly terrifying. A lifetime of bone fractures is scary. 20% of women with hip fractures from osteoporosis die of complications.
CRAP.
Part of what is making me so sad is that I'm trying so, so, so hard to be healthy and strong and to take positive control of my health, and I'm eating healthy food and exercising and taking calcium and vitamin D and all the rest....so it feels so grossly unfair.
Today I was listening to a Sheryl Crow song, "No one said it would be easy; but no one said it would be this hard." That about sums it up right now.
Don't get me wrong. Life is busy in mostly wonderful ways. I feel healthy and strong. Mostly, I feel optimistic. But today, I'm saddened by the news that my body has yet another challenge to deal with, and I feel overwhelmed by it. Tomorrow, my PollyAnna attitude can return...but today I'm tired.
Kristina
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Testing, testing, 1-2-3
The testing never stops. I need to go in for my regular MUGA (heart function), DEXA (bone density), bloodwork (CA 27.29, CA 125, TSH, etc.)...and now I will get the new BRCA (genetic) test that has just come out. Since male factor breast cancer is so rare, and tends to be BRCA2 related, and since breast cancer in a woman so young is so rare, it is highly suspected that I have a genetic mutation. Perhaps this test will find it.
I hope that I do NOT have such a mutation, of course....it's too late for me but I'd like to believe that my aunts and cousins are not at a higher risk.
Stay tuned!
----------
Myriad Introduces Enhanced BRACAnalysis® Test for Exceptionally High-Risk Breast Cancer Patients
New BART™ Technology Detects Rare DNA Rearrangements in BRCA1 and BRCA2 Genes
Salt Lake City, August 1, 2006—Myriad Genetics, Inc. (Nasdaq: MYGN) (www.myriad.com) announced today the introduction of the BRACAnalysis® Rearrangement Test, a new molecular diagnostic test in the BRACAnalysis family of products. The added test detects rare, large rearrangements of the DNA in the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes and will be performed for women with exceptionally high risk who have tested negative for sequence mutations and the common large rearrangements already included in Myriad's test.
BRACAnalysis, Myriad's test for hereditary breast and ovarian cancer incorporates the most thorough full-sequence analysis for gene mutation detection ever employed on a broad commercial scale. More recently, Myriad and others have discovered and published information on an additional type of mutation, known as a large rearrangement, that has not been detectable by commercial DNA sequencing technologies, but only by laborious, manual research-based methods. Such rearrangements are responsible for a small percentage of changes in the two breast cancer genes. In 2002, Myriad added a panel of five common rearrangements to its BRACAnalysis test, accounting for nearly half of the total occurrence of large rearrangements in the two genes. Because large rearrangements are quite rare, a woman meeting the commonly employed selection criteria for BRACAnalysis has less than one half of one percent (0.5%) risk of carrying one of the large rearrangement mutations.
Now, with its new BART technology for large rearrangement detection, Myriad offers an automated, robust test designed to detect all large rearrangement mutations in the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes, even if they have not been seen previously. As of August 1, 2006, Myriad will conduct the BRACAnalysis Rearrangement Test on patient samples where the individual's personal and family history is indicative of an exceptionally high level of risk, but the sample tests negative for BRACAnalysis. The Rearrangement test will be performed, when indicated, at no additional charge, and is also available for order independently for a fee of $650.
"We are very pleased to introduce an exciting and robust technology to detect these rare rearrangement mutations," said Gregory Critchfield, MD, President of Myriad Genetic Laboratories, Inc. "This work continues Myriad's leadership in providing the best testing possible for individuals at risk for hereditary breast and ovarian cancer through our gold-standard BRACAnalysis product."
I hope that I do NOT have such a mutation, of course....it's too late for me but I'd like to believe that my aunts and cousins are not at a higher risk.
Stay tuned!
----------
Myriad Introduces Enhanced BRACAnalysis® Test for Exceptionally High-Risk Breast Cancer Patients
New BART™ Technology Detects Rare DNA Rearrangements in BRCA1 and BRCA2 Genes
Salt Lake City, August 1, 2006—Myriad Genetics, Inc. (Nasdaq: MYGN) (www.myriad.com) announced today the introduction of the BRACAnalysis® Rearrangement Test, a new molecular diagnostic test in the BRACAnalysis family of products. The added test detects rare, large rearrangements of the DNA in the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes and will be performed for women with exceptionally high risk who have tested negative for sequence mutations and the common large rearrangements already included in Myriad's test.
BRACAnalysis, Myriad's test for hereditary breast and ovarian cancer incorporates the most thorough full-sequence analysis for gene mutation detection ever employed on a broad commercial scale. More recently, Myriad and others have discovered and published information on an additional type of mutation, known as a large rearrangement, that has not been detectable by commercial DNA sequencing technologies, but only by laborious, manual research-based methods. Such rearrangements are responsible for a small percentage of changes in the two breast cancer genes. In 2002, Myriad added a panel of five common rearrangements to its BRACAnalysis test, accounting for nearly half of the total occurrence of large rearrangements in the two genes. Because large rearrangements are quite rare, a woman meeting the commonly employed selection criteria for BRACAnalysis has less than one half of one percent (0.5%) risk of carrying one of the large rearrangement mutations.
Now, with its new BART technology for large rearrangement detection, Myriad offers an automated, robust test designed to detect all large rearrangement mutations in the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes, even if they have not been seen previously. As of August 1, 2006, Myriad will conduct the BRACAnalysis Rearrangement Test on patient samples where the individual's personal and family history is indicative of an exceptionally high level of risk, but the sample tests negative for BRACAnalysis. The Rearrangement test will be performed, when indicated, at no additional charge, and is also available for order independently for a fee of $650.
"We are very pleased to introduce an exciting and robust technology to detect these rare rearrangement mutations," said Gregory Critchfield, MD, President of Myriad Genetic Laboratories, Inc. "This work continues Myriad's leadership in providing the best testing possible for individuals at risk for hereditary breast and ovarian cancer through our gold-standard BRACAnalysis product."
Saturday, September 02, 2006
A good reminder
http://www.breastcancer.org/research_diet_082806.html
This study should remind me to keep my weight low.... I'm glad I gave away all of my "big" clothes because it's important to me as a breast cancer survivor to keep that weight off. The statistics are particularly powerful if you consider that chemo only improved my chances by, perhaps, 7-10%...so the improvement brought about by a healthy weight loss is particularly important and substantial.
I know it's only been a few months since I started maintaining my new, healthy weight, but I am DETERMINED to keep it off forever. You may quote me on that, and gently remind me that I am perfectly capable of doing so, should I ever start to slip. :-)
This study should remind me to keep my weight low.... I'm glad I gave away all of my "big" clothes because it's important to me as a breast cancer survivor to keep that weight off. The statistics are particularly powerful if you consider that chemo only improved my chances by, perhaps, 7-10%...so the improvement brought about by a healthy weight loss is particularly important and substantial.
I know it's only been a few months since I started maintaining my new, healthy weight, but I am DETERMINED to keep it off forever. You may quote me on that, and gently remind me that I am perfectly capable of doing so, should I ever start to slip. :-)
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
A survivor story from the 3-Day - 27 years!
At the end of the 3-Day, the survivors line up in pairs and march into the arena together after all the other walkers are already in for the closing ceremony. While we were watching the long stream of walkers go by us - 2300 people - the 400 survivors stood and talked about who they were, and how far out they were.
The woman behind me in the line was 27 years out; she's 69, and she was 32 when she was diagnosed. She didn't remember her staging, but she had a Halsted radical mastectomy and chemotherapy, so that tells us something. She had three small children at the time, and she told me that, like many of us, she just prayed that she would see them grow old.
When she was diagnosed she made herself a tape that she played for herself every night, in which she told herself the story of her future life, saying things like, "I will see my son graduate from high school. I will attend my daughter's wedding. I will rock my grandchildren to sleep." I don't know if this helped or not....but it made me think I might do the same thing (on CD!). I know that a positive attitude will not cure cancer (if it did I wouldn't have gotten it in the first place!) but it sounds very affirming and life-embracing to me.
She's a grandma now to SIX grandchildren; she has rocked them all to sleep. She didn't miss any graduations, nor weddings. She's still NED, and at 69 she was spry enough to walk 60 miles and smile at the end, offering encouragement to many of us.
There wasn't a dry eye around.
The woman behind me in the line was 27 years out; she's 69, and she was 32 when she was diagnosed. She didn't remember her staging, but she had a Halsted radical mastectomy and chemotherapy, so that tells us something. She had three small children at the time, and she told me that, like many of us, she just prayed that she would see them grow old.
When she was diagnosed she made herself a tape that she played for herself every night, in which she told herself the story of her future life, saying things like, "I will see my son graduate from high school. I will attend my daughter's wedding. I will rock my grandchildren to sleep." I don't know if this helped or not....but it made me think I might do the same thing (on CD!). I know that a positive attitude will not cure cancer (if it did I wouldn't have gotten it in the first place!) but it sounds very affirming and life-embracing to me.
She's a grandma now to SIX grandchildren; she has rocked them all to sleep. She didn't miss any graduations, nor weddings. She's still NED, and at 69 she was spry enough to walk 60 miles and smile at the end, offering encouragement to many of us.
There wasn't a dry eye around.
A survivor story from the 3-Day - 27 years!
At the end of the 3-Day, the survivors line up in pairs and march into the arena together after all the other walkers are already in for the closing ceremony. While we were watching the long stream of walkers go by us - 2300 people - the 400 survivors stood and talked about who they were, and how far out they were.
The woman behind me in the line was 27 years out; she's 69, and she was 32 when she was diagnosed. She didn't remember her staging, but she had a Halsted radical mastectomy and chemotherapy, so that tells us something. She had three small children at the time, and she told me that, like many of us, she just prayed that she would see them grow old.
When she was diagnosed she made herself a tape that she played for herself every night, in which she told herself the story of her future life, saying things like, "I will see my son graduate from high school. I will attend my daughter's wedding. I will rock my grandchildren to sleep." I don't know if this helped or not....but it made me think I might do the same thing (on CD!). I know that a positive attitude will not cure cancer (if it did I wouldn't have gotten it in the first place!) but it sounds very affirming and life-embracing to me.
She's a grandma now to SIX grandchildren; she has rocked them all to sleep. She didn't miss any graduations, nor weddings. She's still NED, and at 69 she was spry enough to walk 60 miles and smile at the end, offering encouragement to many of us.
There wasn't a dry eye around.
The woman behind me in the line was 27 years out; she's 69, and she was 32 when she was diagnosed. She didn't remember her staging, but she had a Halsted radical mastectomy and chemotherapy, so that tells us something. She had three small children at the time, and she told me that, like many of us, she just prayed that she would see them grow old.
When she was diagnosed she made herself a tape that she played for herself every night, in which she told herself the story of her future life, saying things like, "I will see my son graduate from high school. I will attend my daughter's wedding. I will rock my grandchildren to sleep." I don't know if this helped or not....but it made me think I might do the same thing (on CD!). I know that a positive attitude will not cure cancer (if it did I wouldn't have gotten it in the first place!) but it sounds very affirming and life-embracing to me.
She's a grandma now to SIX grandchildren; she has rocked them all to sleep. She didn't miss any graduations, nor weddings. She's still NED, and at 69 she was spry enough to walk 60 miles and smile at the end, offering encouragement to many of us.
There wasn't a dry eye around.
Monday, August 28, 2006
The Breast Cancer 3-Day: The first installment
Here is what I have started writing about the 3-Day. I missed so much information about the event in this telling, and there are funny stories to tell, and touching ones, and I need to add them....but here is a taste of my experiences at the 3-Day. More to follow!
----------------------------
I got home from the Seattle Breast Cancer 3-Day yesterday, and I am still on a high. Here are a few notes that I just can't resist sharing...
This event was INCREDIBLE for me. First of all, I had been using the 3-Day as a fantasy to get me through the most heinous parts of treatment for over a year. Sitting in chemo, burning from rads, and recovering from surgeries, I would close my eyes and envision crossing the finish line....strong and healthy enough to have walked 60 miles, with my hair ruffling in the breeze, surrounded by friends, proving that the cancer was BEHIND me. The event became the symbol of good health for me, and I sometimes wondered if I'd ever get there, if I'd ever actually be well enough to partake in it.
I was honored to walk with nine friends for the entire event: Michele, Lori, Susan, Carolyn, Molly, Darcy, Bryona, Katie, and Sara. Joining us on the last day as an honorary team member was my oncologist, Kristine (now officially one of the girls, not just my oncologist). Being surrounded by these friends, and spending three full days, including two nights of sleeping in tents just feet apart from one another, was the most incredible girl-bonding experience ever. Suddenly, we were all twelve years old, pulling practical jokes, laughing, singing, resting, eating, and talking talking talking talking. Our husbands and children were at home; there were no chores; no jobs; no email; no phones (except when we chose to call home on our cellphones to check in....and then we'd turn the phones off!). We were there to take care of ourselves, and of each other, and it was incredible.
The first day, after opening ceremonies, as all 2700 walkers were released, it was like one giant walker traffic jam, and things were slloooooowwwwwww... too slow for me. I found myself having something to prove, and I would have run if they'd let me (actually, during a 3-Day, you can get disqualified for running...."it's a walk, not a race!"). I had all kinds of energy, and I felt the full health of my fantasies, and I was practically giddy about it - I felt like I could FLY. When the crowds loosened up after the first pit stop, I started walking faster, and faster, until I was doing a walk just short of running. Every time I called out "On your left!" and passed someone, I felt a little surge of adreneline, and a happiness that seemed to fill my entire self. THIS was health. This was the fantasy come true.
I walked like a fool, but took my time at pit stops to visit with my friends (some walked with me, some came a bit slower), snacking on the billions of calories worth of food provided (string cheese, bagels with cream cheese, peanuts, bananas, oranges, pretzels, potato chips, granola bars and more) and refilling my water bottle (sports drinks were provided but I find them heinous and unnecessary). I arrived at camp with a smile a mile wide, and had plenty of time to shower (they have mobile showers), set up my tent, check out the camp, and hang out before dinner at 5pm.
The walk itself was just so FUN. People lined the streets to cheer, which shouldn't matter (it's about personal health and fundraising, which I had already accomplished) but the kindness of these strangers was INCREDIBLE. In addition to the pit stops every 3 miles, people stood at the sidelines handing out candy, or popsicles, or watermelon (my personal favorite!), or misting the walkers with spray bottles. People held signs saying, "Thank you" and "This survivor thanks you" and cheering for strangers and friends alike. Some people got REALLY into cheering, and dressed in silly costumes (mostly pink!), or set up stereos pumping out music, or they passed out little trinkets for the walkers to pin to their shirts or hats. Some of these self-appointed cheerers actually stationed themselves at multiple stations throughout the day, so that we would see them time and time again. (My favorites were Dan, Moose, and Bob: a father, grown son, and best friend, who clapped their hearts out for us, wore pink pompoms on their shoes, and treated every walker they saw like an angel. WOW.) I was also honored to be visited by Ryan, Tessa, Shep, and my mom and dad, which was wonderful: I was so glad to share some of this with them. Ryan held a sign "Go Team Kristina" up for us, and it felt good to hug each member of my family, and to feel their incredible support.
On the first day, I was just filled with so much energy that I practically (but not quite) ran the event, and it all passed in a blur. On the second day, I walked more with my team, or large parts of my team....and we found ourselves singing to pass the time. Yes, singing. It was crazy! I can't carry a tune but we found ourselves belting out songs from Grease and The Sound of Music and all kinds of other incredibly cheesy stuff. I think that we sounded particularly good on "My Girl" and "Lean on Me," but by then my standards were not particularly high....I was just so filled with love for my friends, and for the moment, that the craziness of it all filled me with happiness.
The first night, the entertainment was karaoke, which I wasn't into...but the second night, the entertainment was a local band called the Aphrodisiacs who play 70s cover tunes like "Celebration" and Earth, Wind and Fire tunes. I could not believe it, but after walking 40 miles over two days, and after hearing stories from one survivor and one co-survivor that had me shaking with emotional tears (God I hate this disease!!!)...I found myself dancing and singing along (this time, thankfully for everyone around me, I was drowned out by the music playing!).
The final day, with Kristine joining us, was tons of talking, and the team stayed all together. We were all happy to be getting done with the walk...but we were all a bit sad that it was ending, too. A girl-fest like this one doesn't happen often, and I could not believe how much fun each of us seemed to be having, despite blisters and various small ailments. I got to know Kristine as a friend, and we talked about everything under the sun, and she shared stories happy and sad about her experiences as a oncologist who works exclusively with breast cancer patients.
As we walked in to the end, we (all 11 of us, with other walkers sometimes joining in) sang "You've Got a Friend." I cried as I listened to my friends singing, and as I heard the words "You just call out my name, and you know whereever I am, I'll come running..." and thought about how they'd run to my side. I thought about telling Carolyn, who lives two states away from me, that I had cancer, and how she showed up at my door two days before my mastectomy. I thought about all of them, walking with me....wow.
As we got into camp, I started to think that I didn't want to leave my team during closing ceremonies....they had been so instrumental in my experience that I didn't want to separate from them. Michele, upon hearing this, put her arm around me, and said, "You know that we are at your side on this journey, and throughout all of this. But you also know that there are some things that you have had to do all by yourself, that we can not help you with, and that you have been strong enough to do them. Now you will do this, and you will know that we are still at your back, even when we're not by your side." I wept....and agreed with her. It's a perfect metaphor.
While we were in the holding area, waiting to be called into the arena, Michele (who always knows the right thing to say!) asked me what the high point of the previous year had been. I flashed back through the entire year, the highs and lows, and it seemed like an hour before I could answer. My voice shaking, I knew I was telling the truth when I said, "Right now. Here, together. I made it!"
My friends entered the arena before me, in the long parade of walkers, and I huddled under a shady tent with the other survivors. The survivors, all in matching pink t-shirts for this final part, started talking together....my partner was a five year survivor, I'm a one year survivor. As I mentioned in my other post, the woman behind me was a 27 year survivor, and we all cheered and hugged her. She asked me about my treatment, and she looked me in the eye and said, "You are going to make it. You will rock your grandbabies to sleep." I sobbed again, and held her tight in my arms for a moment. Funny, I never learned her name, but I will never forget that moment.
And then we marched into ceremonies. I wish I could tell you about them, but I don't remember most of them, because I was so lost in the emotion of it all, and in the realization that the event was over. I do know that I cried.
There are many other stories I could tell, and some of them are silly/stupid/goofy, and others are touching, but I will leave it here for now, as it's 11:06am and I must go to bed.
If you made it reading this far, thank you.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
The face of breast cancer
A member of the YSC has been putting together this poster, and I'm on it (second row, third from left). It's still being constructed (more faces are being added, they're working on the verbage) but even incomplete I think it's very, very powerful.
http://www.susantallman.com/bcposter.htm
http://www.susantallman.com/bcposter.htm
Monday, August 21, 2006
Closing Ceremonies at the 3-Day
I know that this will be a major milestone for me, and I already know that I am going to cry for most of the closing ceremonies - tears of pride, success, fear, and uncertainty about the future...as well as hope. This year has been an amazing journey, and more than my official one year anniversary, I am using this event as a way of closing the year. I would be deeply touched if any of you chose to attend the closing ceremonies with me.
---------------------
Closing Ceremonies
Sunday, August 27
4:30 pm
University of Washington
Off Montlake Blvd. NE and NE 45th Street
Seattle, WA 98195
View maps: Entrance / Exit
Spectator Note: Friends, family and supporters should arrive to the Closing Ceremonies site at least one hour early to get the best view of the program. To witness the final victory walk of the 3-Day is truly an experience worth the wait. All walkers and crew members will remain in the Participant Holding area where they will receive their victory shirt, cheer on their fellow walkers and crew members, and reflect on their experience before the dramatic silent victory walk into Closing Ceremonies.
Driving Directions
From the north via I-5 southbound:
From I-5 southbound, take the NE 45th Street exit (#169). Turn left onto NE 45th Street. Continue east past the main entrance to the University of Washington at 17th Avenue NE and onto the viaduct. Near the bottom of the viaduct, move into the left lane. Continuing on NE 45th Street, move into the right lane. At the next traffic light (located at the 5-Corners intersection of NE 45th Street, NE 45th Place, and Mary Gates Memorial Drive) turn right onto Mary Gates Memorial Drive. Take the first right onto Clark Road. Proceed west to the NE entrance to the E1 parking lot.
TIP: to avoid traffic congestion use the NE entrance to E1 from Mary Gates Memorial Drive.
From the south via I-5 northbound:
From I-5 nouthbound, take the NE 45th Street exit (#169). Turn right onto NE 45th Street. Continue east past the main entrance to the University of Washington at 17th Avenue NE and onto the viaduct. Near the bottom of the viaduct, move into the left lane. As you continue east on NE 45th Street, move into the right lane. At the next traffic light (located at the 5-Corners intersection of NE 45th Street, NE 45th Place, and Mary Gates Memorial Drive) turn right onto Mary Gates Memorial Drive. Take the first right onto Clark Road. Proceed west to the NE entrance to the E1 parking lot.
From the east via State Route 520:
Coming from the east use State Route 520. Take the Montlake Boulevard exit. Continue north on Montlake Blvd. crossing the drawbridge and then travel past the Bank of America Arena and the Intramural Activities Center. Stay in the right-hand lane and continue north. When the road makes a "Y," bear right staying on Montlake Blvd. Take the next right onto Walla Walla Road. Straight ahead you will see a multi-lane northern entrance to the E1 lot.
TIP: To avoid traffic congestion use either the Walla Walla Rd. entrance to E1 or the entrance accessed from Mary Gates Memorial Drive.
Event Parking
Parking Lot E1 will be available for spectator parking.
Public Transportation
The University of Washington can also be accessed by bus. Visit http://transit.metrokc.gov/ for route and timetable information
---------------------
Closing Ceremonies
Sunday, August 27
4:30 pm
University of Washington
Off Montlake Blvd. NE and NE 45th Street
Seattle, WA 98195
View maps: Entrance / Exit
Spectator Note: Friends, family and supporters should arrive to the Closing Ceremonies site at least one hour early to get the best view of the program. To witness the final victory walk of the 3-Day is truly an experience worth the wait. All walkers and crew members will remain in the Participant Holding area where they will receive their victory shirt, cheer on their fellow walkers and crew members, and reflect on their experience before the dramatic silent victory walk into Closing Ceremonies.
Driving Directions
From the north via I-5 southbound:
From I-5 southbound, take the NE 45th Street exit (#169). Turn left onto NE 45th Street. Continue east past the main entrance to the University of Washington at 17th Avenue NE and onto the viaduct. Near the bottom of the viaduct, move into the left lane. Continuing on NE 45th Street, move into the right lane. At the next traffic light (located at the 5-Corners intersection of NE 45th Street, NE 45th Place, and Mary Gates Memorial Drive) turn right onto Mary Gates Memorial Drive. Take the first right onto Clark Road. Proceed west to the NE entrance to the E1 parking lot.
TIP: to avoid traffic congestion use the NE entrance to E1 from Mary Gates Memorial Drive.
From the south via I-5 northbound:
From I-5 nouthbound, take the NE 45th Street exit (#169). Turn right onto NE 45th Street. Continue east past the main entrance to the University of Washington at 17th Avenue NE and onto the viaduct. Near the bottom of the viaduct, move into the left lane. As you continue east on NE 45th Street, move into the right lane. At the next traffic light (located at the 5-Corners intersection of NE 45th Street, NE 45th Place, and Mary Gates Memorial Drive) turn right onto Mary Gates Memorial Drive. Take the first right onto Clark Road. Proceed west to the NE entrance to the E1 parking lot.
From the east via State Route 520:
Coming from the east use State Route 520. Take the Montlake Boulevard exit. Continue north on Montlake Blvd. crossing the drawbridge and then travel past the Bank of America Arena and the Intramural Activities Center. Stay in the right-hand lane and continue north. When the road makes a "Y," bear right staying on Montlake Blvd. Take the next right onto Walla Walla Road. Straight ahead you will see a multi-lane northern entrance to the E1 lot.
TIP: To avoid traffic congestion use either the Walla Walla Rd. entrance to E1 or the entrance accessed from Mary Gates Memorial Drive.
Event Parking
Parking Lot E1 will be available for spectator parking.
Public Transportation
The University of Washington can also be accessed by bus. Visit http://transit.metrokc.gov/ for route and timetable information
Want to come cheer at the 3-Day?
Invite Your Friends and Family to Support You
Invite your friends and family to the Opening or Closing Ceremonies. They can also cheer you on at any of the following Cheering Stations. These are designated spots where it is safe for them to gather along the route.
Day One:
Mile Marker 7.9
8:45 am - 12:00 pm
Marina Beach Park
25 Lake Shore Plaza
Kirkland, WA 98033
Mile Marker 16.4
12:00 pm - 5:30 pm
Helen Keller Elementary
13820 108th NE
Kirkland, WA 98034
Day Two:
Mile Marker 7.9
9:00 am - 12:30 pm
Bank of America
14003 NE Woodinville Duvall
Woodinville, WA 98072
Mile Marker 12.7
11:00 am - 3:00 pm
Washington Mutual
18925 Bothell Way Northeast
Bothell, WA 98011
Day Three:
Mile Marker 6.6
8:15 am - 10:45 am
Northwest Kidney Center
14524 Bothell Way NE
Lake Forest Park, WA 98155
Mile Marker 13.2
11:20 am - 2:30 pm
Washington Mutual
5464 Sand Point Way Northeast
Seattle, WA 98105
Invite your friends and family to the Opening or Closing Ceremonies. They can also cheer you on at any of the following Cheering Stations. These are designated spots where it is safe for them to gather along the route.
Day One:
Mile Marker 7.9
8:45 am - 12:00 pm
Marina Beach Park
25 Lake Shore Plaza
Kirkland, WA 98033
Mile Marker 16.4
12:00 pm - 5:30 pm
Helen Keller Elementary
13820 108th NE
Kirkland, WA 98034
Day Two:
Mile Marker 7.9
9:00 am - 12:30 pm
Bank of America
14003 NE Woodinville Duvall
Woodinville, WA 98072
Mile Marker 12.7
11:00 am - 3:00 pm
Washington Mutual
18925 Bothell Way Northeast
Bothell, WA 98011
Day Three:
Mile Marker 6.6
8:15 am - 10:45 am
Northwest Kidney Center
14524 Bothell Way NE
Lake Forest Park, WA 98155
Mile Marker 13.2
11:20 am - 2:30 pm
Washington Mutual
5464 Sand Point Way Northeast
Seattle, WA 98105
Friday, August 18, 2006
I could get hit by a bus, too
This essay has a lot of truth to it, and so I thought I would share it here. The bolding is mine.
------------
I COULD GET HIT BY A BUS TOO
Copyright 1995 Susan Frisius
"You never know when you're going to die, after all, I could get hit by a bus."
Since I've never known anyone who has been hit by a bus, I don't understand why friends and acquaintances often say this when I first tell them I have breast cancer. Do they think the possibility of their being hit by a bus equals the possibility of my dying from cancer? Besides, I could get hit by a bus too.
"You're lucky you have a treatable disease."
Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful I wasn't told, "There's nothing we can do," but losing pieces of my body, having a radiation machine set off a nuclear war in my breast and getting my veins filled with toxic chemicals doesn't exactly make me feel lucky.
"You'll be fine because you have a great attitude."
If attitude really matters, why did I get cancer in the first place? Or does attitude only matter after you get cancer? Right now my attitude about cancer is lousy. So what does that mean?
"Don't worry, if your time's not up, it's not up."
If that's true, why did I bother with the surgery? Should I cancel the rest of my treatments? Do doctors perform surgery and give chemo and radiation for no good reason? After all, "if my time's up," treatments won't help.
"I've read that anger and stress lead to cancer."
Great! Now I caused my own cancer.
"You should simplify your life."
It's pretty simple now, all I seem to do is go to medical appointments.
"I've read that people can keep cancer from coming back by changing their diet. Maybe you should try to improve yours since it didn't keep you from getting cancer. That's why I watch everything I eat."
The person who tells me this knows I only eat natural foods, cook everything from scratch, don't eat junk foods and rarely eat meat.
"You eat white pasta," she says when she sees my puzzled look.
Of course, she eats white pasta too, but calls the flour "semolina." Does she really think if I had eaten pasta with "semolina" on the label I wouldn't now have cancer?
One person says, "If you really want to live, you will. Just never give up. When people give up, they die."
If I were hit and killed by a bus would she think I died because I gave up?
Another person tells me to visualize the cancer shrinking. She says, "If you really work at it, you can eliminate it."
Most conversations end with "call if you need anything."
I don't have the energy to call anyone - I can hardly feed myself and get to my medical appointments.
Why do intelligent and sensitive people who care about me say such things? Can they really believe I'm responsible both for my cancer and the outcome of my treatments?
I think these people want to believe cancers are caused by a person's poor emotional state or diet. This lets them think they won't get cancer because they think they eat properly and handle their lives and emotions well. Unfortunately, it also makes them feel uncomfortable around me because they're afraid they'll find out their attitudes and diets are no better than mine. So I hear, "How can you be so cheerful?" and "All that yogurt can't be good for you," and "Put your daughters in foster care, they're too stressful for you."
I have no doubt that everyone I talked to about my cancer was concerned about me and wanted to help me keep a positive outlook. I'm sure they were sincere when they said, "I'd like to have you over for dinner sometime, but I know everything makes you sick," or "It's good to see you out grocery shopping, I was worried because I hadn't seen you for a while."
I'm sure friends would have been happy to help if I had called them and asked for assistance. Most likely they thought they were being considerate when they didn't visit or call "so I could rest." I think they just didn't know what to do or say.
So what would help me while I'm being treated for cancer?
Drop in or call. The only way you'll know what I need is if you keep in touch. Remember, if I'm out in the community, I'm well enough to be out. It's when you don't see me that I need your support.
Don't wait for me or my immediate family to ask you for help. It takes too much energy and I don't like admitting I can no longer cope with everyday living. When you want to help, don't ask what I need, just do it. Bring me a meal (white pasta is fine), wash my floors while I sleep, take my children to a movie, get the oil changed in my car, pick up a few vegetables for me at a farm stand, change a burned out light bulb, take my empty yogurt container off the coffee table and throw it out.
Don't minimize the illness that scrambles my life by telling me about simple causes and self cures. Everything I've held important has been touched by it - my ability to raise my children, my work, my independence, my social life.
Don't let your fear of hearing about cancer keep you away. While cancer has become a big part of my life, it's not my whole existence and I am able to converse on other subjects.
Remember my immediate family. My cancer affects them emotionally as much as it does me. My kids and parents need their friends' support now more than they ever did.
If I let you know your company is too much for me at the time, come back. If I don't answer the phone, call again. I need to know I can count on you because I'm temporarily unable to count on myself.
If you're feeling helpless because someone you know has cancer, don't. Take them a meal and eat it with them. Talk to them as you wash their dishes. Play a game with their kids so they can hear laughter. Pet their cat until it purrs. Bring over a book and read it to them.
Both of you will fell better when you take action.
------------
I COULD GET HIT BY A BUS TOO
Copyright 1995 Susan Frisius
"You never know when you're going to die, after all, I could get hit by a bus."
Since I've never known anyone who has been hit by a bus, I don't understand why friends and acquaintances often say this when I first tell them I have breast cancer. Do they think the possibility of their being hit by a bus equals the possibility of my dying from cancer? Besides, I could get hit by a bus too.
"You're lucky you have a treatable disease."
Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful I wasn't told, "There's nothing we can do," but losing pieces of my body, having a radiation machine set off a nuclear war in my breast and getting my veins filled with toxic chemicals doesn't exactly make me feel lucky.
"You'll be fine because you have a great attitude."
If attitude really matters, why did I get cancer in the first place? Or does attitude only matter after you get cancer? Right now my attitude about cancer is lousy. So what does that mean?
"Don't worry, if your time's not up, it's not up."
If that's true, why did I bother with the surgery? Should I cancel the rest of my treatments? Do doctors perform surgery and give chemo and radiation for no good reason? After all, "if my time's up," treatments won't help.
"I've read that anger and stress lead to cancer."
Great! Now I caused my own cancer.
"You should simplify your life."
It's pretty simple now, all I seem to do is go to medical appointments.
"I've read that people can keep cancer from coming back by changing their diet. Maybe you should try to improve yours since it didn't keep you from getting cancer. That's why I watch everything I eat."
The person who tells me this knows I only eat natural foods, cook everything from scratch, don't eat junk foods and rarely eat meat.
"You eat white pasta," she says when she sees my puzzled look.
Of course, she eats white pasta too, but calls the flour "semolina." Does she really think if I had eaten pasta with "semolina" on the label I wouldn't now have cancer?
One person says, "If you really want to live, you will. Just never give up. When people give up, they die."
If I were hit and killed by a bus would she think I died because I gave up?
Another person tells me to visualize the cancer shrinking. She says, "If you really work at it, you can eliminate it."
Most conversations end with "call if you need anything."
I don't have the energy to call anyone - I can hardly feed myself and get to my medical appointments.
Why do intelligent and sensitive people who care about me say such things? Can they really believe I'm responsible both for my cancer and the outcome of my treatments?
I think these people want to believe cancers are caused by a person's poor emotional state or diet. This lets them think they won't get cancer because they think they eat properly and handle their lives and emotions well. Unfortunately, it also makes them feel uncomfortable around me because they're afraid they'll find out their attitudes and diets are no better than mine. So I hear, "How can you be so cheerful?" and "All that yogurt can't be good for you," and "Put your daughters in foster care, they're too stressful for you."
I have no doubt that everyone I talked to about my cancer was concerned about me and wanted to help me keep a positive outlook. I'm sure they were sincere when they said, "I'd like to have you over for dinner sometime, but I know everything makes you sick," or "It's good to see you out grocery shopping, I was worried because I hadn't seen you for a while."
I'm sure friends would have been happy to help if I had called them and asked for assistance. Most likely they thought they were being considerate when they didn't visit or call "so I could rest." I think they just didn't know what to do or say.
So what would help me while I'm being treated for cancer?
Drop in or call. The only way you'll know what I need is if you keep in touch. Remember, if I'm out in the community, I'm well enough to be out. It's when you don't see me that I need your support.
Don't wait for me or my immediate family to ask you for help. It takes too much energy and I don't like admitting I can no longer cope with everyday living. When you want to help, don't ask what I need, just do it. Bring me a meal (white pasta is fine), wash my floors while I sleep, take my children to a movie, get the oil changed in my car, pick up a few vegetables for me at a farm stand, change a burned out light bulb, take my empty yogurt container off the coffee table and throw it out.
Don't minimize the illness that scrambles my life by telling me about simple causes and self cures. Everything I've held important has been touched by it - my ability to raise my children, my work, my independence, my social life.
Don't let your fear of hearing about cancer keep you away. While cancer has become a big part of my life, it's not my whole existence and I am able to converse on other subjects.
Remember my immediate family. My cancer affects them emotionally as much as it does me. My kids and parents need their friends' support now more than they ever did.
If I let you know your company is too much for me at the time, come back. If I don't answer the phone, call again. I need to know I can count on you because I'm temporarily unable to count on myself.
If you're feeling helpless because someone you know has cancer, don't. Take them a meal and eat it with them. Talk to them as you wash their dishes. Play a game with their kids so they can hear laughter. Pet their cat until it purrs. Bring over a book and read it to them.
Both of you will fell better when you take action.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Bad dreams
Last night I dreamed that I went to the hospital for testing, and the scans all showed ten spots on my lungs. "I'm so sorry," the doctors said, "But it's advanced to stage IV." In my dream, I ran my fingers through my short hair, realizing that I would soon be bald. In my dream, I knew that my life would never be the same. In my dream, I was exhausted at the prospect of all I had to do.
I pray this was only a dream.
I pray this was only a dream.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Fundraising
Today I sent out a big email to friends and family...and I'm hoping that some others will come here and see it, and consider making a donation to the Breast Cancer 3-Day.
-------------------
Friends and family,
It is no secret to any of you that I am walking the Breast Cancer 3-Day in a couple of weeks - I've been talking about it nonstop for some time now, getting ready emotionally and physically for the big event. Everything is almost in order: I have become physically able to walk that far (my first 20 mile walk was a resounding success), I have my lymphedema sleeve to war while walking so that my arm won't balloon up during the walk (yes, this is a treatment side effect), I have my amazing team of nine friends walking at my side, and, most importantly, together my team has raised $23,167.25 according to our team webpage
Team Kristina Page .
This is an amazing accomplishment, and one that we are all very, very proud of. The money goes primarily to research (through the Susan G. Komen and the National Philanthropic Trust), every dollar brings us one step closer to finding a cure. We aren't done yet, though, and hope to bring that number even higher.
Some things have changed since our team first decided to walk. The most depressing change is that the statistic "1 in 8 women will get breast cancer in their lifetime" is no longer true: now it's 1 in 7. Think of the women you know, and mull that over. Who will it be? Worst of all, I think of the children that I know. How many of them will it be? It's unbearable.
I have been sliced (five surgeries so far, five more to go), poisoned (16 chemo treatments), and burned (33 radiation treatments, resulting in third degree burns) in an effort to rid my body of this disease... but I am not asking you to donate for me. I'm asking you to donate because I absolutely can not BEAR the idea of these treatments applied to Tessa, or to any of our children. I am asking you to donate so that we can find a cure in our children's lifetime. I'm certain that it's possible, but it's going to take money to fund the research that will change things for the better. I have come through this treatment year a warrior woman, stronger than I ever guessed possible and supported by world class amazing doctors, and yet I still live in fear of recurrance and mets, and in fear of the women I care about being diagnosed. I have already had one knock at the door: my neighbor, who is my age and has a three year old, was diagnosed a couple of weeks ago, and she has stage IV breast cancer (in her liver and bones). Her pain is my pain, and it must be stopped.
The only thing I know how to do to make myself feel better is to fundraise to find a cure. We HAVE to find a cure. In the words of one of my survivor friends on the web, we must Kill the Beast.
This is the last email that I will send asking for your money for this event. I am truly grateful for any donation, small or large, as they all add up and DO make a difference.
You may donate by going to the website below:
Donate to Kristina's Breast Cancer 3-Day Efforts
and either donating online or printing a form to send in with a check.
Thank you for reading this, and for your donation.
Kristina
-------------------
Friends and family,
It is no secret to any of you that I am walking the Breast Cancer 3-Day in a couple of weeks - I've been talking about it nonstop for some time now, getting ready emotionally and physically for the big event. Everything is almost in order: I have become physically able to walk that far (my first 20 mile walk was a resounding success), I have my lymphedema sleeve to war while walking so that my arm won't balloon up during the walk (yes, this is a treatment side effect), I have my amazing team of nine friends walking at my side, and, most importantly, together my team has raised $23,167.25 according to our team webpage
Team Kristina Page .
This is an amazing accomplishment, and one that we are all very, very proud of. The money goes primarily to research (through the Susan G. Komen and the National Philanthropic Trust), every dollar brings us one step closer to finding a cure. We aren't done yet, though, and hope to bring that number even higher.
Some things have changed since our team first decided to walk. The most depressing change is that the statistic "1 in 8 women will get breast cancer in their lifetime" is no longer true: now it's 1 in 7. Think of the women you know, and mull that over. Who will it be? Worst of all, I think of the children that I know. How many of them will it be? It's unbearable.
I have been sliced (five surgeries so far, five more to go), poisoned (16 chemo treatments), and burned (33 radiation treatments, resulting in third degree burns) in an effort to rid my body of this disease... but I am not asking you to donate for me. I'm asking you to donate because I absolutely can not BEAR the idea of these treatments applied to Tessa, or to any of our children. I am asking you to donate so that we can find a cure in our children's lifetime. I'm certain that it's possible, but it's going to take money to fund the research that will change things for the better. I have come through this treatment year a warrior woman, stronger than I ever guessed possible and supported by world class amazing doctors, and yet I still live in fear of recurrance and mets, and in fear of the women I care about being diagnosed. I have already had one knock at the door: my neighbor, who is my age and has a three year old, was diagnosed a couple of weeks ago, and she has stage IV breast cancer (in her liver and bones). Her pain is my pain, and it must be stopped.
The only thing I know how to do to make myself feel better is to fundraise to find a cure. We HAVE to find a cure. In the words of one of my survivor friends on the web, we must Kill the Beast.
This is the last email that I will send asking for your money for this event. I am truly grateful for any donation, small or large, as they all add up and DO make a difference.
You may donate by going to the website below:
Donate to Kristina's Breast Cancer 3-Day Efforts
and either donating online or printing a form to send in with a check.
Thank you for reading this, and for your donation.
Kristina
Saturday, July 29, 2006
First 20 mile walk!
Today I walked 20.16 miles around West Seattle with a group of women all training for the 3-Day. Some were from my team, and others were from "Hiking for Hooters," and their team captain, Alex, organized and led the walk. I feel great - 7 hours of walking and I could have kept going, so that is a very good sign!
Alex gave me a special gift today. She told me that when we met at the FOCUS meeting for the first time, and I shared my story a bit (along with my reason for walking - my daughter: it's okay for me to do this, but NOT TESSA!), she said she felt very inspired and that she has been walking in my honor, and that she used my story in her fundraising letter. Alex has recruited 16 people to her team, and they've raised over $30,000 so far. I am deeply touched and grateful that I had a small part in this success. Alex has done the work, but I feel that my meaningless, awful cancer and treatment are more meaningful knowing that it has touched someone in this way.
Thank you, Alex.
Kristina
Alex gave me a special gift today. She told me that when we met at the FOCUS meeting for the first time, and I shared my story a bit (along with my reason for walking - my daughter: it's okay for me to do this, but NOT TESSA!), she said she felt very inspired and that she has been walking in my honor, and that she used my story in her fundraising letter. Alex has recruited 16 people to her team, and they've raised over $30,000 so far. I am deeply touched and grateful that I had a small part in this success. Alex has done the work, but I feel that my meaningless, awful cancer and treatment are more meaningful knowing that it has touched someone in this way.
Thank you, Alex.
Kristina
Friday, July 28, 2006
Much to think about
I haven't been posting here often because I am overwhelmed by trying to live my "real" and intended life, and I find myself running all over the place, very scattered, as I try to squeeze every drop out of living. It's an interesting dilemma: I am more determined than ever to live consciously, making all of my actions meaningful...but at the same time, I'm too busy living to find real balance or to sit back and reflect upon my experiences. I will get there, but not yet.
An update on my neighbor: she is a strong woman...would you believe that she actually brought us dinner this weekend (delicious Cajun BBQ pork)? She has a hard road ahead of her, and I hope to help her sometimes, and to be a shoulder for her to lean on... but I also have come to the realization that I can not immerse myself in her problems right now, because I simply do not have the energy to give. My strength comes from a deep well, but this is larger than I can handle, and I have backed off somewhat, and I'm not involved in her day-to-day treatment. I plan to call Mira soon, when I've caught my breath, but her diagnosis hit me harder than I would have imagined possible (after all, we don't know each other well) and I need to sort out my own head before I can help her further with hers.
I hate this disease.
In other ramblings...
I did my first 15+ mile training walk last weekend, and it went really well...I didn't even hurt the next day! Tomorrow I plan another, similarly distanced, walk, and I'm looking forward to it. The 3-Day is just weeks away (Aug. 25-27) and I'm really excited for it. I'm also going to be glad when it's over, because I've decided I'm not a walker...it's too inefficient for me! When I'm burning calories, I want to burn them faster. :-) I'm thinking of doing a 1/2 marathon next, but not as a fundraiser.
In fundraising/cancer awareness and prevention news, I'm pleased to say that my team has hit $22K in fundraising. HURRAH! Every dime helps. It might not help myself, Susan, Gretchen, Prema, Nicole, Jodi, Mira, or I....but it WILL help our daughters. I am convinced of this, and it drives me to keep working at it. To that end, Ryan and I intend to attend the Austin, TX Livestrong Summit in October, so that we can be trained as leaders and advocates for the cancer survivorship community. We must end this **** disease, and I mean business when I say that.
Tessa continues to delight me, and to amaze me with her "big girl" ways. She plays beautifully with other children, and is getting quite good at sharing and playing imaginatively with others. I love to watch her when she thinks I'm not around, to see how she interacts with another child, and to hear the stories they dream up together. These are good, good days.
Shep is a Wonderdog, and we're all more in love than ever. He follows me around, which amuses me, and he's getting our family out on walks (good boy!).
We are nearing the completion of a (for us) major house project: a new deck! As I type, my friend Kathleen and her friend Rob are putting up railings on our new deck, and I'm THRILLED with it, because I think it's beautiful. The rest of the summer will be spent enjoying it, and it should be around for MANY years to come. The old deck was rotten and ugly, and this new one, in addition to being safe (a major concern, and the driving factor in our replacement of the old deck) it's really pretty, and I'm a happy girl.
Love,
Kristina
An update on my neighbor: she is a strong woman...would you believe that she actually brought us dinner this weekend (delicious Cajun BBQ pork)? She has a hard road ahead of her, and I hope to help her sometimes, and to be a shoulder for her to lean on... but I also have come to the realization that I can not immerse myself in her problems right now, because I simply do not have the energy to give. My strength comes from a deep well, but this is larger than I can handle, and I have backed off somewhat, and I'm not involved in her day-to-day treatment. I plan to call Mira soon, when I've caught my breath, but her diagnosis hit me harder than I would have imagined possible (after all, we don't know each other well) and I need to sort out my own head before I can help her further with hers.
I hate this disease.
In other ramblings...
I did my first 15+ mile training walk last weekend, and it went really well...I didn't even hurt the next day! Tomorrow I plan another, similarly distanced, walk, and I'm looking forward to it. The 3-Day is just weeks away (Aug. 25-27) and I'm really excited for it. I'm also going to be glad when it's over, because I've decided I'm not a walker...it's too inefficient for me! When I'm burning calories, I want to burn them faster. :-) I'm thinking of doing a 1/2 marathon next, but not as a fundraiser.
In fundraising/cancer awareness and prevention news, I'm pleased to say that my team has hit $22K in fundraising. HURRAH! Every dime helps. It might not help myself, Susan, Gretchen, Prema, Nicole, Jodi, Mira, or I....but it WILL help our daughters. I am convinced of this, and it drives me to keep working at it. To that end, Ryan and I intend to attend the Austin, TX Livestrong Summit in October, so that we can be trained as leaders and advocates for the cancer survivorship community. We must end this **** disease, and I mean business when I say that.
Tessa continues to delight me, and to amaze me with her "big girl" ways. She plays beautifully with other children, and is getting quite good at sharing and playing imaginatively with others. I love to watch her when she thinks I'm not around, to see how she interacts with another child, and to hear the stories they dream up together. These are good, good days.
Shep is a Wonderdog, and we're all more in love than ever. He follows me around, which amuses me, and he's getting our family out on walks (good boy!).
We are nearing the completion of a (for us) major house project: a new deck! As I type, my friend Kathleen and her friend Rob are putting up railings on our new deck, and I'm THRILLED with it, because I think it's beautiful. The rest of the summer will be spent enjoying it, and it should be around for MANY years to come. The old deck was rotten and ugly, and this new one, in addition to being safe (a major concern, and the driving factor in our replacement of the old deck) it's really pretty, and I'm a happy girl.
Love,
Kristina
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Send me a letter!
Apparently, I can get letters at the 3-Day event. I would love to hear from you...even though the concept is a bit odd to me! Here's the instructions on how to send me a letter that I will receive on the Breast Cancer 3-Day:
Camp Post Office
Everyone loves to get mail - especially when it's a personal note from a friend or loved one. Let your friends and family know that they can send you personal greetings while you are on the Breast Cancer 3-Day. Ask them to mail their letters of encouragement to:
3-Day Camp Post Office - Seattle, WA
Attn: Kristina Surface
1200 W. 35th Ave Suite #360
Chicago, IL 60609
Your letters will be available for pick-up on-event at the 3-Day Camp Post Office, along with the letters you wrote to yourself at the 3-Day Kick-Off and Expo. The Camp Post Office is also where you can write and send free postcards to your friends, family and donors. Don't forget to bring their addresses with you to the event.
Important Notes:
All letters must be postmarked no later than 2 weeks out from the event.
The 3-Day location (city/state) and the participant name MUST be clearly marked in the address
No boxes/packages; envelopes only!
Letters will not be mailed to participants after the event. Any unclaimed letters will be disposed of.
Camp Post Office
Everyone loves to get mail - especially when it's a personal note from a friend or loved one. Let your friends and family know that they can send you personal greetings while you are on the Breast Cancer 3-Day. Ask them to mail their letters of encouragement to:
3-Day Camp Post Office - Seattle, WA
Attn: Kristina Surface
1200 W. 35th Ave Suite #360
Chicago, IL 60609
Your letters will be available for pick-up on-event at the 3-Day Camp Post Office, along with the letters you wrote to yourself at the 3-Day Kick-Off and Expo. The Camp Post Office is also where you can write and send free postcards to your friends, family and donors. Don't forget to bring their addresses with you to the event.
Important Notes:
All letters must be postmarked no later than 2 weeks out from the event.
The 3-Day location (city/state) and the participant name MUST be clearly marked in the address
No boxes/packages; envelopes only!
Letters will not be mailed to participants after the event. Any unclaimed letters will be disposed of.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Oh God, no, not another person!
Last week my neighbor came knocking on my door. I knew in an instant that something was terribly wrong, and it is. She had been diagnosed, the hour before, with breast cancer. She came to me for support, and I'm grateful to have the opportunity to share my experiences and strength with her.
Yesterday, she found out that she has stage four breast cancer that has metastacized to her liver and bones. For information, try:
http://www.breastcancer.org/rcr_metas_idx.html
My neighbor has a three year old son. When I gave them the book "Sammy's Mommy Has Cancer" I thought my soul would implode and shatter; I remember all too well those early days. Indeed, I relate all too well to her story, to her fear, to her driving desire to live. The fear colors it all.
Please pray for me that I will know how to help her, and that I will be able to set boundaries so that I do not take on more than I can handle in helping her. Please pray for her, that the journey is tolerable and the cure in sight. Please help me remember that I am not necessarily destined to have her fate; that I have stage IIb cancer, and not stage IV.
I HATE THIS DISEASE. It must be stopped. I will help to stop it. My "Team Kristina" has raised over $20,000 so far, and it's going to help. I will not stop there. "We will fight them on the beaches..."
Today I have wondered if I will lose my mind from it all.
Love,
Kristina
Yesterday, she found out that she has stage four breast cancer that has metastacized to her liver and bones. For information, try:
http://www.breastcancer.org/rcr_metas_idx.html
My neighbor has a three year old son. When I gave them the book "Sammy's Mommy Has Cancer" I thought my soul would implode and shatter; I remember all too well those early days. Indeed, I relate all too well to her story, to her fear, to her driving desire to live. The fear colors it all.
Please pray for me that I will know how to help her, and that I will be able to set boundaries so that I do not take on more than I can handle in helping her. Please pray for her, that the journey is tolerable and the cure in sight. Please help me remember that I am not necessarily destined to have her fate; that I have stage IIb cancer, and not stage IV.
I HATE THIS DISEASE. It must be stopped. I will help to stop it. My "Team Kristina" has raised over $20,000 so far, and it's going to help. I will not stop there. "We will fight them on the beaches..."
Today I have wondered if I will lose my mind from it all.
Love,
Kristina
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Sharing poetry
KINDNESS
Naomi Shihab Nye, Palestinian Poet
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
and the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the windows forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day
to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.
Naomi Shihab Nye, Palestinian Poet
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
and the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the windows forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day
to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Potty trained!
Over a week ago, Tessa decided to wear big girl underwear....and just like that, she's potty trained! HURRAH! I'm so proud of her for figuring it out. I wonder if she was waiting for our lives to calm down, and now that I'm feeling healthy and Ryan's back at work, things felt normal enough for her to take on this new challenge? Or maybe it was just time. In any case, I'm thrilled.
We had some potty setbacks while camping, but now that we're home, everything is going as it should.
More updates later on life in general, our visit with Corina and family, our camping trip, and the rest.
Love,
Kristina
We had some potty setbacks while camping, but now that we're home, everything is going as it should.
More updates later on life in general, our visit with Corina and family, our camping trip, and the rest.
Love,
Kristina
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Newness
Yesterday, Ryan started his new job, and he had a great first day: he likes his boss, he met lots of nice people, the work is looking interesting, he's got a tiny little laptop (easy to carry), and he even has a view of Alki and Puget Sound and the Olympics from his cubicle. When I met him after work, he had a great smile on his face, and that is the best.
And the commute....perfect! It's about a 20 minute bus ride, and he's in the hub of downtown. Last night my parents had Tessa (thank you Grammy & Grandpa!) and so I met Ryan downtown for a date night at Dahlia Lounge (Ryan walked from his office) and Paul, Libby, and Joy joined us there. It was VERY fun to be part of the urban downtown scene, and as Ryan was walking to the resturant he was scoping out all of the cool places we should go together (for happy hour or dinners or lunches). Ryan's got his cool Livestrong messenger/bike bag, and his nifty C&P coffee mug, and his new-smaller-sized work clothes, and he heads out early every morning so that he can get home in good time... and things look good. Very good!
And me? I'm trying to squeeze every drop out of life. Yesterday, we had PEPS at our house, and Tessa, Nina, and Anna all played together so well....and I got to catch up with some mommy friends. Then, Tessa and I rushed off to the club, and she and I went swimming together at the outdoor pool (heaven on a hot day!), and were joined by my mom. Then I rushed home to get ready for my date, and had said date in the evening. Now THIS is living! Today, I'm about to go for a long walk by myself (Ryan and I already took Shep for his walk together...he can't go too far yet), then I'm going to do housework (notice that I didn't mention any housework yesterday....this place is a wreck, and needs my time) before meeting Susan and Adrienne for coffee, and picking up Tessa, before coming home for a quiet evening. Tomorrow, I'm participating in a breast cancer study for a couple of hours in the morning, then packing up, and then in the evening Tessa & I will pick up Ryan at his office and head to Crystal Mountain, where we're joining our friends Katie, Mike, Jessie and Emma for a weekend at their cabin. HURRAH!
I am still, obviously, working on finding my routine; on getting all the things I need to get do done, on balancing the different parts of my life. But things are certainly moving in the right direction!
Love,
Kristina
And the commute....perfect! It's about a 20 minute bus ride, and he's in the hub of downtown. Last night my parents had Tessa (thank you Grammy & Grandpa!) and so I met Ryan downtown for a date night at Dahlia Lounge (Ryan walked from his office) and Paul, Libby, and Joy joined us there. It was VERY fun to be part of the urban downtown scene, and as Ryan was walking to the resturant he was scoping out all of the cool places we should go together (for happy hour or dinners or lunches). Ryan's got his cool Livestrong messenger/bike bag, and his nifty C&P coffee mug, and his new-smaller-sized work clothes, and he heads out early every morning so that he can get home in good time... and things look good. Very good!
And me? I'm trying to squeeze every drop out of life. Yesterday, we had PEPS at our house, and Tessa, Nina, and Anna all played together so well....and I got to catch up with some mommy friends. Then, Tessa and I rushed off to the club, and she and I went swimming together at the outdoor pool (heaven on a hot day!), and were joined by my mom. Then I rushed home to get ready for my date, and had said date in the evening. Now THIS is living! Today, I'm about to go for a long walk by myself (Ryan and I already took Shep for his walk together...he can't go too far yet), then I'm going to do housework (notice that I didn't mention any housework yesterday....this place is a wreck, and needs my time) before meeting Susan and Adrienne for coffee, and picking up Tessa, before coming home for a quiet evening. Tomorrow, I'm participating in a breast cancer study for a couple of hours in the morning, then packing up, and then in the evening Tessa & I will pick up Ryan at his office and head to Crystal Mountain, where we're joining our friends Katie, Mike, Jessie and Emma for a weekend at their cabin. HURRAH!
I am still, obviously, working on finding my routine; on getting all the things I need to get do done, on balancing the different parts of my life. But things are certainly moving in the right direction!
Love,
Kristina
Monday, June 26, 2006
Getting down to the business of living
I rarely find myself in front of my computer any more, as I am just so swamped with, well, everything. I'm occupied by the usual things (caring for Tessa, playdates, laundry, etc.) and the new addition of our puppy, but I'm also trying to squeeze in a year's worth of living into each day. I'm wearing Tessa out with this approach, which makes me smile - at the end of each day she is more than ready to go to bed! Yesterday, for example, we met Michele & Elliott at C&P for coffee and Shep's walk, then came back to crate Shep so that we could go on a 5 mile walk to Lincoln Park. At the mid-point of the walk, we stopped to let the kids play on the play structure for a while, and then came home. Once home, I quickly packed a picnic, and then Tessa, Shep and I were off to the club to have a picnic with my brother, SIL, and two nephews...along with their two dogs (they got a beautiful new puppy, Tigger). We played with the dogs and had lunch, and then the humans went swimming at the pool there. Then, rushing again, Tessa, Shep and I headed off to Edmonds for a girls' night with Libby and friends, stopping to pick up some dinner fixings at QFC (a giant salad - yummm - in this hot weather nothing sounded better to me). At 7:30pm we again made a dash for home, Shep whimpering because he wanted a walk, and Tessa falling asleep in the carseat. Once home, we got Tessa into her PJs & slippers, loaded her into the jogging stroller, and off we went around the neighborhood, exercising Shep and I and hoping that Tessa would be able to manage the lateness of the stroll. Then, Tessa tucked into bed, Shep into his crate, and I started unloading the day's debris: picnic supplies, wet swimsuits, etc. and preparing for the next day.
Every day sounds about like that, right now. I'm wearing myself out too but I don't care. It just feels so good to LIVE! I love being out in the sun, the joy of physical play, bonding with family and friends....it's lovely.
Ryan is in Bend, OR with Paul on their bike trip, and Ryan reports that it has been wonderful. I'm so glad that Ryan could get in some down time (times two - Cannon Beach with us, Bend with Paul) before the "real life" of the new job begins. We're all excited for the job, and I think that it will be great for Ryan, but of course we treasure vacation, as well, and it's healthy and healing to start such a prospect fully refreshed.
I am still working on what my real routine will look like in this new life we're fashioning. I know that each day must start and end with Shep's walk, that I want to get hours in at the Komen Foundation doing volunteer work, that my yard needs lots of TLC that I'd like to give, that I'm eager to help out friends now that I can. It is wonderful to receive, and I have received so much in the past year...but it feels even better to give. Hurrah for being able to do so! I'll find my rhythm soon enough, but right now I don't mind the craziness of going from place to place and packing so much into each day. THIS is living.
Love,
Kristina
Every day sounds about like that, right now. I'm wearing myself out too but I don't care. It just feels so good to LIVE! I love being out in the sun, the joy of physical play, bonding with family and friends....it's lovely.
Ryan is in Bend, OR with Paul on their bike trip, and Ryan reports that it has been wonderful. I'm so glad that Ryan could get in some down time (times two - Cannon Beach with us, Bend with Paul) before the "real life" of the new job begins. We're all excited for the job, and I think that it will be great for Ryan, but of course we treasure vacation, as well, and it's healthy and healing to start such a prospect fully refreshed.
I am still working on what my real routine will look like in this new life we're fashioning. I know that each day must start and end with Shep's walk, that I want to get hours in at the Komen Foundation doing volunteer work, that my yard needs lots of TLC that I'd like to give, that I'm eager to help out friends now that I can. It is wonderful to receive, and I have received so much in the past year...but it feels even better to give. Hurrah for being able to do so! I'll find my rhythm soon enough, but right now I don't mind the craziness of going from place to place and packing so much into each day. THIS is living.
Love,
Kristina
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Cannon Beach
Ahhh, Cannon Beach.
We got home this evening from our vacation at Cannon Beach, feeling much refreshed and more ready than ever to take the world by the tail (apologies to Shep & Mo!). There is something special about that place; it refreshes us, body and soul. I slept well, we played together (flying a kite, building a sand castle, romping in the sand, playing at the tidepools, hanging out at coffee shops, going for a walk/run - me - and a bike ride - Ryan, and much, much more). These few pictures capture only a bit of it, but I had to share.
I think you can see my weight loss in these pics, so finally, here are some pictures of me at a much smaller size than I used to be!
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Race for the Cure/Cannon Beach
Today, I did Race for the Cure, and it was a great experience. There were more people than I could ever see at once: the event was held on the viaduct, and when I was at a high point, I couldn't see the end of the people ahead or behind me. It's powerful to think of how much money must have been raised to fight the cause, and how many people cared enough to spend their morning doing this event. We got pictures: one of Paul, Ryan, myself and (sleeping!) Tessa; another of Tessa and I with Gov. Christine Gregoire; several of Tessa with various mascots, etc. I'm glad I did this event, and hope to do it again next year....maybe with a big team!
Tomorrow, we leave for Cannon Beach, and I can't wait. We haven't taken more than a weekend to get away for a LONG time, and I'm really looking forward to the break. Shep will come with us, we'll stay in a little hotel (dog friendly), we'll play on the beach, we'll fly a kite together for the first time, we'll build sand castles, we'll drink coffee at our favorite Cannon Beach coffeehouse....bliss. The simple pleasures! We'll be back on Wednesday (although we might try to reschedule my Herceptin appointment to Thursday or Friday so that I could come home a day later. We will see!)
Love to all,
Kristina
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Shep update - nothing to worry about
Well, we took Shep in to the vet today, and we don't have any reason to be really concerned. It may be that he has kennel cough, but a perhaps even more likely scenerio is that his trachea is very sore from surgery (he would have had a tube down his throat) and combined with that he's been pulling at his leash and so the trachea might be extra irritated, and that could be the reason for the little cough. Also, he's on a new diet, in a new place, so he may have a bit of an upset tummy, leading to the lack of eating.
The cure? I'm currently cooking my dog's dinner! He will be dining on rice and chicken today, and it's simmering in the rice cooker as we speak. Hopefully this mild diet will help his tummy as he transitions to a healthy diet at our house, and he will return to his prior energy levels.
We think that Shep is starting to understand that he lives here, and he's getting more and more comfortable. He's not a big fan of the car yet (though he mellows as soon as he's loaded up), and we think that this is because every time he got in a car he got a new home...first one shelter, then another, then our house. We like to believe that he loves being with us, and the idea that we'd take him somewhere else makes him sad, so he doesn't want to get in the car. In any case, that's improving.
We have booked a trip to Cannon Beach (and we're staying at a hotel that allows dogs), leaving on Father's Day, returning Wednesday. This will be a GREAT time to take a break before Ryan begins his new job. Hooray!
Kristina
The cure? I'm currently cooking my dog's dinner! He will be dining on rice and chicken today, and it's simmering in the rice cooker as we speak. Hopefully this mild diet will help his tummy as he transitions to a healthy diet at our house, and he will return to his prior energy levels.
We think that Shep is starting to understand that he lives here, and he's getting more and more comfortable. He's not a big fan of the car yet (though he mellows as soon as he's loaded up), and we think that this is because every time he got in a car he got a new home...first one shelter, then another, then our house. We like to believe that he loves being with us, and the idea that we'd take him somewhere else makes him sad, so he doesn't want to get in the car. In any case, that's improving.
We have booked a trip to Cannon Beach (and we're staying at a hotel that allows dogs), leaving on Father's Day, returning Wednesday. This will be a GREAT time to take a break before Ryan begins his new job. Hooray!
Kristina
Sick puppy!
We think it's just kennel cough, but our little guy is really lethargic today and is refusing food (which, based on our short experience with him, is NOT his nature). We're going to go to the vet this morning to get him checked out and get some meds. I like how well behaved he is right now (sleeping on his little bed all day long) but I hate the fact that he obviously doesn't feel well.
I'm working on getting better pictures of Shep, but he's either so active that I can only get half of him in the picture as he runs out of the frame, or he's a blur, or (today) he's just so sorrowful looking. Just trust that he's WAY cuter in person than he is in these pics.
Love,
Kristina
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Great news
At long last, we have great news to announce.
In addition to falling ever deeper in love with our puppy Shep (he's fabulous!) - certainly a highlight this week, Ryan has accepted a job offer at PAR3 in Seattle. Ryan had the honor of receiving quite a bit of interest from a variety of companies, but the PAR3 offer was the most appealing, and Ryan is excited to begin in two weeks. We are ever so grateful to Randal for giving Ryan an internal recommendation, and to Marisa for pointing out that PAR3 might be a great place to apply.
Dare we think that our luck has changed? My recent good health, our lovely puppy, and Ryan's job seem to bode well for our futures. I am filled with optimism and hope.
In all of this good news, we also received some sad news. Today, my brother's puppy, adopted only 72 hours earlier, died. Mike, Krystal, and Caleb (fortunately, Josh is too young to be too affected) are devastated, and our hearts break for them, for we know what it is to love an animal. It's a strange world we live in: Ryan and I have light hearts because of all of the positive changes in our lives, and at the same time (initially unbeknownst to us) little Titan's passing was breaking the hearts of others.
We are trying to live each moment to the fullest. We never know where life will take us, or what surprise (good or bad) awaits us, so I'm living in the moment, trying to squeeze a lifetime worth's joy into each minute.
Love,
Kristina
In addition to falling ever deeper in love with our puppy Shep (he's fabulous!) - certainly a highlight this week, Ryan has accepted a job offer at PAR3 in Seattle. Ryan had the honor of receiving quite a bit of interest from a variety of companies, but the PAR3 offer was the most appealing, and Ryan is excited to begin in two weeks. We are ever so grateful to Randal for giving Ryan an internal recommendation, and to Marisa for pointing out that PAR3 might be a great place to apply.
Dare we think that our luck has changed? My recent good health, our lovely puppy, and Ryan's job seem to bode well for our futures. I am filled with optimism and hope.
In all of this good news, we also received some sad news. Today, my brother's puppy, adopted only 72 hours earlier, died. Mike, Krystal, and Caleb (fortunately, Josh is too young to be too affected) are devastated, and our hearts break for them, for we know what it is to love an animal. It's a strange world we live in: Ryan and I have light hearts because of all of the positive changes in our lives, and at the same time (initially unbeknownst to us) little Titan's passing was breaking the hearts of others.
We are trying to live each moment to the fullest. We never know where life will take us, or what surprise (good or bad) awaits us, so I'm living in the moment, trying to squeeze a lifetime worth's joy into each minute.
Love,
Kristina
Saturday, June 10, 2006
A boy and his dog
Ryan's never had a dog - but today his boyhood dreams came true! Today, Ryan met Shep for the first time. Our family had a wonderful time visiting with Shep, and we can't wait to get him home and REALLY get to know him.
Our list of doggy "to-do's" is growing. Secure laundry room, buy dog-guard for the Subaru, trim Mozart's toenails (Shep is sure to get a few warnings from Mo, and that's okay, but we don't want real damage to be inflicted!), figure out a way (and a place) to store the dogfood, read up on puppy training... These are tasks to be done with joy - no complaints from me!
Tomorrow morning I will do my first 10 mile walk. I'm nervous - wish me well!
Kristina
Thursday, June 08, 2006
SHEP!!!!!
Today, we found Shep! His picture, above, is from the Petfinder website, and there are a couple more pictures there, at Shep's page on Petfinder.
Unfortunately, the friend who will be helping us to train Shep is out of town, but I did as much temperment testing as my inexperience would allow (using a book called "Successful Dog Adoptions" and a very long phonecall with my brother, using the book HE has about temperment testing) and Shep passed with flying colors. He's a very active little guy, full of mischief, and I have a feeling that we will have some sleepless nights. However, he's gentle, not easily startled, and oh-so-affectionate. We are thrilled by this new member of our family.
Shep was not already "altered" (neutered) and his appointment is Monday; unfortunately, that means we can't take him home until Monday. However, he's ours: all the paperwork was filled out and the money was paid (a ridiculously low cost, I might add...!). We can't wait to get him home!
Love,
Kristina
Real Life
Slowly, I (we) are returning to real life, which, though not always easy, is so much better than cancer-patient life. Instead of spending hours every day feeling ill or running around to various doctors' offices, I am knee-deep in laundry, playdates, grocery lists, and dreams for the future. What was once mundane now feels pretty darn good - I don't mind the laundry because I can do it. I have time to dream, and the hope that my dreams will come true. Real life is not on hold...it is happening NOW.
Ryan is as busy, or busier, than I am. He has been receiving interview requests, and today has interviews with three companies (as I type this, he's en route from one company to the next!). Ryan is much like his old self, but better....he is very focused, and some company is going to be very grateful that they are the company to have snagged him. Of course, it's nerve wracking to go through the process (if only we knew the outcome!) but I am confident that soon he will be fully employed, and that part of normal will return to our family, as well....and then we'll complain about long hours and busy schedules, but it will be with smiles on our faces (I hope!).
We are also in dog mode. Today, for the first time in weeks, I found a dog on Petfinder.com that matches our criteria (black lab or black lab not mixed with pit bull, chow, rottweiler, a puppy younger than six months, and in the Seattle area), appropriately titled "Puppy Love." Will this be our dog? I don't know...but I hope to go to the shelter today to check it out! I have a book entitled "Successful Dog Adoptions" that I've read cover to cover, and it has information on temperment testing. I am hopeful...but not foolish, so if this isn't Shep, I will hold off until I meet Shep. (Should anyone be wondering, our most important criteria is that the dog not exhibit any aggressiveness, and be VERY child-friendly. Of course, we expect Shep to be the love of Tessa's childhood, but we also want to keep every child coming to our home safe. We will not adopt a dog with any aggressive tendencies, and we will take no risks.)
We are on the cusp of many good things.
I am training for the 3-Day and will do my first 10 mile walk this weekend; I'm nervous but excited for that. Our team has raised nearly $20,000 so far and I know that the money will keep coming in. I am SO PROUD of my friends for supporting this cause - together, we are making a HUGE difference. A cure by the time Tessa's a woman....now, that's not too much to ask, is it? (Well, I'll ask for one more thing, too: I want to be alive to see the cure!) The 3-Day, job, puppy, Tessa talking a mile a minute about all of the things that interest her, swimming at the club (Gold Creek), Tessa attending a ballet class with her friends at the YMCA locally (all those little girls in pink tutus is something to behold, and could melt the hardest heart), playing at the park, PEPS at our house, starting work on our garden (which is a mess!), enjoying the sunshine but not minding the rain, Ryan getting in bike rides and watching his times get faster as the hills get easier (hooray Weight Watchers!)....we're all trying to find our rhythm, trying to carve out a new version of normal that allows for the mundane (laundry) while focusing on the joy (puppies, beach picnics, splashing in the pool as a family).
I still don't make time to contemplate the past year. I can't let myself do it yet. There are parts of this year that make me feel physically sick to think about them, and that is not where I wish to be. I'm not in denial about it all, I'm just shelving it for a while. I'm allowing my body and soul to get a bit stronger, and to enjoy the flowers, the laughter of my daughter, my husband holding my hand, the prospect of hikes in the summer and camping with our dog....these, most certainly, are the finer things.
On my one year anniversary, I met with Dr. Okorn, the GP who originally examined my lump and sent me (the very next day) for a mammogram and ultrasound. It was a bit emotional to me to see her again, remembering the events of our last meeting, but I was glad to do it. That day, I reset the clock. I visited the doctor, same as a year before, but this year I had no symptoms to report, and instead was able to ask questions about avoiding osteoporosis and heart disease, what type of vitamins to take, how much calcium, etc. At the end of our meeting, Dr. Okorn said (and I quote) "You are the picture of health." Just thinking about it makes me tear up - ME, the picture of health! This is my new refrain, and it brings me joy....I repeat the words to myself daily. A picture of health. A picture of health. I am a picture of health.
And for those of you who want to know about the day to day...well, I've got a bit of a cold with laryngitis, but I don't care. I know what it means to be SICK, and this is a mere inconvenience (particularly irritating because I want to fly around doing things and I'm a bit tired, but there you have it). I'm anemic -a nd have been since during chemo - and taking iron supplements, but my doctor laughs that the world may not be ready for a version of me that has MORE energy because I really do feel energized. I'm keeping off the lost weight, which is good, because I've given away even more of my old clothes and if I gain weight I literally will not have a thing to wear. :-)
Portland with the PEPS ladies was incredible. Much laughter, some shopping, eating out, relaxing at the hotel, a long walk in the morning, times shared with my friends on the train ride....I could not have asked for more. Every new mother should have the opportunity to join PEPS - these women fill my heart with such joy, and the times we share together are really important to me. I started talking about what we'll be doing together in 30 years and Linda teared up, saying "That is what I want for me, and for my family...." and I couldn't agree more. I know how blessed I am.
And today, my mom has Tessa, as I sit here nervously awaiting news of Ryan's most recent interviews, and the world is well. Shep is out there somewhere (whether I'll meet him today or not), summer is around the corner, and I am LIVING. I wish to suck the marrow from life...and I'm trying my hardest to do that, whether it's feeling the joy of using basil I grew myself in a pasta dish I'm making, or admiring the old-fashioned roses in our garden, or listening to Tessa sing (never mind that she can't carry a tune...I think it's adorable!), or sharing lattes with Ryan in the morning. Life, with all of its ups and downs, is sweet. If nothing else, I've learned that, and I hope I never forget.
Love,
Kristina
Ryan is as busy, or busier, than I am. He has been receiving interview requests, and today has interviews with three companies (as I type this, he's en route from one company to the next!). Ryan is much like his old self, but better....he is very focused, and some company is going to be very grateful that they are the company to have snagged him. Of course, it's nerve wracking to go through the process (if only we knew the outcome!) but I am confident that soon he will be fully employed, and that part of normal will return to our family, as well....and then we'll complain about long hours and busy schedules, but it will be with smiles on our faces (I hope!).
We are also in dog mode. Today, for the first time in weeks, I found a dog on Petfinder.com that matches our criteria (black lab or black lab not mixed with pit bull, chow, rottweiler, a puppy younger than six months, and in the Seattle area), appropriately titled "Puppy Love." Will this be our dog? I don't know...but I hope to go to the shelter today to check it out! I have a book entitled "Successful Dog Adoptions" that I've read cover to cover, and it has information on temperment testing. I am hopeful...but not foolish, so if this isn't Shep, I will hold off until I meet Shep. (Should anyone be wondering, our most important criteria is that the dog not exhibit any aggressiveness, and be VERY child-friendly. Of course, we expect Shep to be the love of Tessa's childhood, but we also want to keep every child coming to our home safe. We will not adopt a dog with any aggressive tendencies, and we will take no risks.)
We are on the cusp of many good things.
I am training for the 3-Day and will do my first 10 mile walk this weekend; I'm nervous but excited for that. Our team has raised nearly $20,000 so far and I know that the money will keep coming in. I am SO PROUD of my friends for supporting this cause - together, we are making a HUGE difference. A cure by the time Tessa's a woman....now, that's not too much to ask, is it? (Well, I'll ask for one more thing, too: I want to be alive to see the cure!) The 3-Day, job, puppy, Tessa talking a mile a minute about all of the things that interest her, swimming at the club (Gold Creek), Tessa attending a ballet class with her friends at the YMCA locally (all those little girls in pink tutus is something to behold, and could melt the hardest heart), playing at the park, PEPS at our house, starting work on our garden (which is a mess!), enjoying the sunshine but not minding the rain, Ryan getting in bike rides and watching his times get faster as the hills get easier (hooray Weight Watchers!)....we're all trying to find our rhythm, trying to carve out a new version of normal that allows for the mundane (laundry) while focusing on the joy (puppies, beach picnics, splashing in the pool as a family).
I still don't make time to contemplate the past year. I can't let myself do it yet. There are parts of this year that make me feel physically sick to think about them, and that is not where I wish to be. I'm not in denial about it all, I'm just shelving it for a while. I'm allowing my body and soul to get a bit stronger, and to enjoy the flowers, the laughter of my daughter, my husband holding my hand, the prospect of hikes in the summer and camping with our dog....these, most certainly, are the finer things.
On my one year anniversary, I met with Dr. Okorn, the GP who originally examined my lump and sent me (the very next day) for a mammogram and ultrasound. It was a bit emotional to me to see her again, remembering the events of our last meeting, but I was glad to do it. That day, I reset the clock. I visited the doctor, same as a year before, but this year I had no symptoms to report, and instead was able to ask questions about avoiding osteoporosis and heart disease, what type of vitamins to take, how much calcium, etc. At the end of our meeting, Dr. Okorn said (and I quote) "You are the picture of health." Just thinking about it makes me tear up - ME, the picture of health! This is my new refrain, and it brings me joy....I repeat the words to myself daily. A picture of health. A picture of health. I am a picture of health.
And for those of you who want to know about the day to day...well, I've got a bit of a cold with laryngitis, but I don't care. I know what it means to be SICK, and this is a mere inconvenience (particularly irritating because I want to fly around doing things and I'm a bit tired, but there you have it). I'm anemic -a nd have been since during chemo - and taking iron supplements, but my doctor laughs that the world may not be ready for a version of me that has MORE energy because I really do feel energized. I'm keeping off the lost weight, which is good, because I've given away even more of my old clothes and if I gain weight I literally will not have a thing to wear. :-)
Portland with the PEPS ladies was incredible. Much laughter, some shopping, eating out, relaxing at the hotel, a long walk in the morning, times shared with my friends on the train ride....I could not have asked for more. Every new mother should have the opportunity to join PEPS - these women fill my heart with such joy, and the times we share together are really important to me. I started talking about what we'll be doing together in 30 years and Linda teared up, saying "That is what I want for me, and for my family...." and I couldn't agree more. I know how blessed I am.
And today, my mom has Tessa, as I sit here nervously awaiting news of Ryan's most recent interviews, and the world is well. Shep is out there somewhere (whether I'll meet him today or not), summer is around the corner, and I am LIVING. I wish to suck the marrow from life...and I'm trying my hardest to do that, whether it's feeling the joy of using basil I grew myself in a pasta dish I'm making, or admiring the old-fashioned roses in our garden, or listening to Tessa sing (never mind that she can't carry a tune...I think it's adorable!), or sharing lattes with Ryan in the morning. Life, with all of its ups and downs, is sweet. If nothing else, I've learned that, and I hope I never forget.
Love,
Kristina
Friday, June 02, 2006
One year and counting
June 1st was my one year survivorship anniversary, and I had planned to spend the day being meditative about it, and to write a long blog entry about my experiences. I didn't. I couldn't. Instead, I ran around like a madwoman, with chores, playdates, preschool, a doctor's appointment (an annual physical, nothing to do with cancer),and finally, a date with my family (dinner at my favorite resturant, La Rustica).
I still intend to think, to be introspective, and to contemplate the events of the past year, but right now I'm too busy living. I've felt pretty normal (not ill, or in major pain) for about a week and a half, and the idea that I will continue to get better for a few months makes me positively GIDDY. I'm trying to squeeze in a year of living into each day, and it doesn't leave a lot of time. I have things to say about the one year mark...but they must wait. The feelings won't go away; I won't forget.
Tomorrow, I'm getting on a train with my PEPS group friends, and we're headed to Portland. I've purchased shallow magazines (Glamour, Self, Vogue) to peruse on the train; I've got my water bottle, my umbrella, and my cute shoes. I've spent half the evening trying to decide what to wear. Tessa is absolutely fine with my absence, and happily tells friends that her mommy is going to Portland with some other mommies and that she's going to see the Mariner Moose with her Daddy. I have a light heart - time with friends, time away from Cancerville, and time to look to the future in an optimistic manner is EXACTLY what I need right now. I don't feel like being introspective, I feel like pushing behind the pain of the past year and ignoring it, at least for the moment.
Love,
Kristina
PS I was able to exercise 4 times this week so far. YAHOOOOOOOOOOO! I am serious about training for the 3-Day, and I'm baaa-aack!
PPS Caroline, I got your message but I've misplaced your number. Call me back, and leave a number! I'm home on Monday. It was great to hear from you.
I still intend to think, to be introspective, and to contemplate the events of the past year, but right now I'm too busy living. I've felt pretty normal (not ill, or in major pain) for about a week and a half, and the idea that I will continue to get better for a few months makes me positively GIDDY. I'm trying to squeeze in a year of living into each day, and it doesn't leave a lot of time. I have things to say about the one year mark...but they must wait. The feelings won't go away; I won't forget.
Tomorrow, I'm getting on a train with my PEPS group friends, and we're headed to Portland. I've purchased shallow magazines (Glamour, Self, Vogue) to peruse on the train; I've got my water bottle, my umbrella, and my cute shoes. I've spent half the evening trying to decide what to wear. Tessa is absolutely fine with my absence, and happily tells friends that her mommy is going to Portland with some other mommies and that she's going to see the Mariner Moose with her Daddy. I have a light heart - time with friends, time away from Cancerville, and time to look to the future in an optimistic manner is EXACTLY what I need right now. I don't feel like being introspective, I feel like pushing behind the pain of the past year and ignoring it, at least for the moment.
Love,
Kristina
PS I was able to exercise 4 times this week so far. YAHOOOOOOOOOOO! I am serious about training for the 3-Day, and I'm baaa-aack!
PPS Caroline, I got your message but I've misplaced your number. Call me back, and leave a number! I'm home on Monday. It was great to hear from you.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
A year ago today...
...I found a lump on my left breast. It felt firm and slightly flat, like a lima bean under my skin. I poked it and prodded it, because it wasn't there the month before, and I'd never felt it before, so I thought it would go away. Poking and prodding did nothing but make my skin red; the lump did not change.
Ryan came in just as I was laying in bed, poking and prodding, and I didn't say anything about it to him, convinced that when I woke up the lump would be gone. He asked me to go lay in the hammock with him, and so we went out and looked at the stars in the clear sky. (Perhaps todays rain showers and cloudy skies are a sign that the next year will be very different from the last year!)
I didn't understand then how much my life would change because of that little lump.
Love,
Kristina
Ryan came in just as I was laying in bed, poking and prodding, and I didn't say anything about it to him, convinced that when I woke up the lump would be gone. He asked me to go lay in the hammock with him, and so we went out and looked at the stars in the clear sky. (Perhaps todays rain showers and cloudy skies are a sign that the next year will be very different from the last year!)
I didn't understand then how much my life would change because of that little lump.
Love,
Kristina
Lifetime!
Today at my Weight Watchers meeting I was awarded Lifetime status, meaning that I've hit my goal weight and maintained it for six weeks. Now, it's my job to keep the pounds off, and to continue my healthy habits for the rest of my life. I am encouraged to continue going to WW meetings to stay on track, and to continue journaling my food, which I will do. I hope that one day I won't have to write every morsel down, but I will use the scale as my guide: if I gain, I'll jump back on WW immediately.
Part of the standard protocol at meetings is that members receiving Lifetime get to get up in front of the group and discuss their success. I can not believe how emotional it was for me to do that! I was trying to tell people that they COULD lose weight, no matter what the obstacles in front of them, and I started to point out that I'd had third degree radiation burns, as well as two major surgeries, during my weight loss phase...and I really choked up. Sometimes, I can't allow myself to feel the enormity of things until I'm through them, and this was one of those times. Standing in front of that crowd, I told them: it was hard. It really, really hurt. I didn't think I could keep going...but I did. And now look at me! I can hardly believe the difference - I look like an entirely different person. I'm thin! I really am! I'm at an "ideal" weight, and nobody (except myself) can take it away from me. I intend to remain thin for all of my days. I've been heavy, and I didn't like it: I'm NOT going back.
For any here who are trying to lose weight, here are the two things I think it boils down to. Really, there are only two things that I think make a person successful at weight loss. Only two. You can do it!
1. Decide that it's really very, very important to you to lose weight, and that are absolutely committed to losing weight NOW. This is different than wanting to lose weight - wishes do not get results. If you decide that losing weight is an absolute top priority for you, then you will remake your life to make weight loss possible. You will tell the girlfriend who invites you out to lunch, "You know, I can't resist the cheesecake at that resturant, and I'm trying to cut back. Can we go somewhere else instead?" You will bring snacks with you so that you have healthy choices when you're going to be busy all day. You will refuse to use cookbooks whose main ingredient lists include lots of butter and cream. You will weigh your food. All because of one thing: you decided that it was important. We all know how to lose weight, and it's not rocket science (eat less, exercise more), but I think that the thing is the level of commitment. Don't think that you can't because of your husband's sweet tooth, or your office's policy of having donut Fridays, or the fact that your kids like too many carbs and so it's hard for you to avoid those things. Just decide that it's the most important thing to you to be thin, and make your decisions based on that. The cliche'd expression "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" is oh-so-true. I still love fettucine alfredo...but not nearly as much as I love being thin. Never before in my life have I really committed to losing weight. It's not easy, but it can be done....if you commit to it.
2. Write down every bite, and be honest about it. I've never food journaled before this, and I see why it's such a successful technique: it forces honesty in black and white; and it makes you think, "do I want to have to write this down?" It also helps with math. If you're adding up in your head, it's easy to miss things, to "forget," or to miscalculate portions. It's harder to lie on paper, right there before you. Write it down! If you're dieting now, and it's not working, start writing it down, and you'll discover one of two things: either that you're eating more than you thought (or more of the wrong things than you thought); or that you weren't really dieting at all because of all of the "hidden" foods that you weren't really counting in your head. In a recent Oprah magazine there was a great article about weight loss that discussed food journaling, and it said that people who do not food journal tended to underestimate their caloric intake by 1,050 calories a day. WHOA! That's a lot of calories! I believe that journaling is the magic bullet for dieters. You bite it, you write it; you nibble, you scribble. Try it! It really works!
I don't profess to have all of the answers, but I've become the biggest believer in Weight Watchers. They know their stuff. They've seen it all. The meetings are a big motivator...and I can't tell you how many times I thought "well I want to eat ___ but I'm being weighed in a couple of days and I don't want them to write down a higher number than last week," so the nature of weighing in weekly is very effective. I've met lovely, wonderful people there, and everyone is very encouraging. My leader, Shelly, is an amazing, amazing, woman, and I credit a good deal of my success to her lessons, kindness, and support.
But in the end, it was ME who did the hard work, and I'm very, very, very proud of myself. Officially, I lost 39 pounds. I hope to never see them again....and you'll see me working at keeping them off for the rest of my life.
Love,
Kristina
Part of the standard protocol at meetings is that members receiving Lifetime get to get up in front of the group and discuss their success. I can not believe how emotional it was for me to do that! I was trying to tell people that they COULD lose weight, no matter what the obstacles in front of them, and I started to point out that I'd had third degree radiation burns, as well as two major surgeries, during my weight loss phase...and I really choked up. Sometimes, I can't allow myself to feel the enormity of things until I'm through them, and this was one of those times. Standing in front of that crowd, I told them: it was hard. It really, really hurt. I didn't think I could keep going...but I did. And now look at me! I can hardly believe the difference - I look like an entirely different person. I'm thin! I really am! I'm at an "ideal" weight, and nobody (except myself) can take it away from me. I intend to remain thin for all of my days. I've been heavy, and I didn't like it: I'm NOT going back.
For any here who are trying to lose weight, here are the two things I think it boils down to. Really, there are only two things that I think make a person successful at weight loss. Only two. You can do it!
1. Decide that it's really very, very important to you to lose weight, and that are absolutely committed to losing weight NOW. This is different than wanting to lose weight - wishes do not get results. If you decide that losing weight is an absolute top priority for you, then you will remake your life to make weight loss possible. You will tell the girlfriend who invites you out to lunch, "You know, I can't resist the cheesecake at that resturant, and I'm trying to cut back. Can we go somewhere else instead?" You will bring snacks with you so that you have healthy choices when you're going to be busy all day. You will refuse to use cookbooks whose main ingredient lists include lots of butter and cream. You will weigh your food. All because of one thing: you decided that it was important. We all know how to lose weight, and it's not rocket science (eat less, exercise more), but I think that the thing is the level of commitment. Don't think that you can't because of your husband's sweet tooth, or your office's policy of having donut Fridays, or the fact that your kids like too many carbs and so it's hard for you to avoid those things. Just decide that it's the most important thing to you to be thin, and make your decisions based on that. The cliche'd expression "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" is oh-so-true. I still love fettucine alfredo...but not nearly as much as I love being thin. Never before in my life have I really committed to losing weight. It's not easy, but it can be done....if you commit to it.
2. Write down every bite, and be honest about it. I've never food journaled before this, and I see why it's such a successful technique: it forces honesty in black and white; and it makes you think, "do I want to have to write this down?" It also helps with math. If you're adding up in your head, it's easy to miss things, to "forget," or to miscalculate portions. It's harder to lie on paper, right there before you. Write it down! If you're dieting now, and it's not working, start writing it down, and you'll discover one of two things: either that you're eating more than you thought (or more of the wrong things than you thought); or that you weren't really dieting at all because of all of the "hidden" foods that you weren't really counting in your head. In a recent Oprah magazine there was a great article about weight loss that discussed food journaling, and it said that people who do not food journal tended to underestimate their caloric intake by 1,050 calories a day. WHOA! That's a lot of calories! I believe that journaling is the magic bullet for dieters. You bite it, you write it; you nibble, you scribble. Try it! It really works!
I don't profess to have all of the answers, but I've become the biggest believer in Weight Watchers. They know their stuff. They've seen it all. The meetings are a big motivator...and I can't tell you how many times I thought "well I want to eat ___ but I'm being weighed in a couple of days and I don't want them to write down a higher number than last week," so the nature of weighing in weekly is very effective. I've met lovely, wonderful people there, and everyone is very encouraging. My leader, Shelly, is an amazing, amazing, woman, and I credit a good deal of my success to her lessons, kindness, and support.
But in the end, it was ME who did the hard work, and I'm very, very, very proud of myself. Officially, I lost 39 pounds. I hope to never see them again....and you'll see me working at keeping them off for the rest of my life.
Love,
Kristina
Saturday, May 20, 2006
I want breasts.
Yesterday I shopped, briefly, for a couple of summer clothing items. I'd like a sundress that fits me, and so off I went.
All of the sundresses I liked had halter tops, spaghetti straps, strapless, or V-necks. All were impossible for a woman who has one weird, bumpy, off-to-one-side breast and one flat side. From the bottom of my rib-cage down, I thought they looked fabulous. Around my bosom, they looked terrible.
This breast business is really, truly, seriously getting old. I feel like I've done my time, and yet I'm still in jail. It's been nearly a year, and still, I have one breast, and it doesn't look that great (think Frankenstein). One day, I know, I'm going to have two relatively normal looking breasts, just scarred...but now, I have one lousy, misshapen, lumpy breast, and one very flat, burned, brown, scarred chest.
Losing all this weight, I have a desire to show off my new body. I'm a weight I haven't been since my mid-twenties, and I love it. I'm out of size 8, wearing size 6 all the time. And yet clothes shopping is still sometimes torturous, unless I want to advertise my mastectomy through the clothes I wear.
Grrrr.
All of the sundresses I liked had halter tops, spaghetti straps, strapless, or V-necks. All were impossible for a woman who has one weird, bumpy, off-to-one-side breast and one flat side. From the bottom of my rib-cage down, I thought they looked fabulous. Around my bosom, they looked terrible.
This breast business is really, truly, seriously getting old. I feel like I've done my time, and yet I'm still in jail. It's been nearly a year, and still, I have one breast, and it doesn't look that great (think Frankenstein). One day, I know, I'm going to have two relatively normal looking breasts, just scarred...but now, I have one lousy, misshapen, lumpy breast, and one very flat, burned, brown, scarred chest.
Losing all this weight, I have a desire to show off my new body. I'm a weight I haven't been since my mid-twenties, and I love it. I'm out of size 8, wearing size 6 all the time. And yet clothes shopping is still sometimes torturous, unless I want to advertise my mastectomy through the clothes I wear.
Grrrr.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
"Blog against cancer" for LiveStrong
The LiveStrong organization, headed by Lance Armstrong, is determined to make a difference by helping cancer survivors, finding cures, and encouraging government to do important funding to fight this deadly disease. Today is LiveStrong's "Blog against cancer" event, and I'm participating.
Cancer, in any form, is frightening. Terrifying. Mind-numbing. Everyone knows someone touched by the disease, and we all know that a cancer diagnosis comes hand in hand with the kind of fear that makes one shake and tremble. It must be stopped. We must find out what factors - environmental or otherwise - are causing cancer rates to rise so dramatically, and we must find cures. I know too much about cancer to want to witness anyone else go through it, and yet I know that I will, in my lifetime, doubtless receive that terrible phone call or message that someone else I love has cancer.
I plan to make a difference through fundraising. It's all that I know how to do, so I must do it. If you haven't already, today would be a great day to donate to the Breast Cancer 3-Day (there's a link on the right of this page), or to any other cancer charity (LiveStrong is a great one, and one that Ryan and I support, in addition to the Susan G. Komen Foundation.)
Love,
Kristina
Cancer, in any form, is frightening. Terrifying. Mind-numbing. Everyone knows someone touched by the disease, and we all know that a cancer diagnosis comes hand in hand with the kind of fear that makes one shake and tremble. It must be stopped. We must find out what factors - environmental or otherwise - are causing cancer rates to rise so dramatically, and we must find cures. I know too much about cancer to want to witness anyone else go through it, and yet I know that I will, in my lifetime, doubtless receive that terrible phone call or message that someone else I love has cancer.
I plan to make a difference through fundraising. It's all that I know how to do, so I must do it. If you haven't already, today would be a great day to donate to the Breast Cancer 3-Day (there's a link on the right of this page), or to any other cancer charity (LiveStrong is a great one, and one that Ryan and I support, in addition to the Susan G. Komen Foundation.)
Love,
Kristina
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Yard Sale Craziness - Pictures
Here are some pictures of the craziness that was our yard sale. Our neighbors, Jeff & Amy, kindly let us use their front yard, and we spread out across the two yards, taking up the sidewalk and parking strip as well. There were literally hundreds of visitors to the yard sale - and countless items for sale. The pictures give just a taste of what it was like that day: organized chaos!
The final two pictures were taken the night before the yard sale. Our dining room table became a sorting ground for clothing (a hopeless cause because there was just so much!) and Erik found a fabulously awful yellow blazer that had us all in stitches laughing. Good times, despite the huge amount of work!
Kristina
The final two pictures were taken the night before the yard sale. Our dining room table became a sorting ground for clothing (a hopeless cause because there was just so much!) and Erik found a fabulously awful yellow blazer that had us all in stitches laughing. Good times, despite the huge amount of work!
Kristina
Moving on
A few months ago, there was a post on the YSC ("Young Survivor Coalition" - a website for women under the age of 40 who have been diagnosed with breast cancer) about moving on, and whether it was possible to truly move on after breast cancer. The women there posted a variety of thoughts on the subject, ranging from the "I forgot about it as soon as I finished" (then why are you on a support-group website?!) to "it's always on my mind, every second of every minute of every hour of every day." The idea of moving on pops in my head all the time now: as I approach my one year anniversary of diagnosis, I start to wonder what moving on looks like for me.
Obviously, my diagnosis changed the rest of my life. The thing that I miss most, more than my breasts or hair, is my innocence. Before June 1, 2005, I was innocent. Aside from the tragedy of my cousin Kathy's death at age 17 in 1988 (I miss her every day, to this day), I had not been deeply touched by tragedy. I don't know if I felt invincible, but it did seem like bad things happened to other people. The diagnosis changed all of that, and in a heartbeat. Not only did I lose body parts, and a year of treatment, but I also lost confidence in my own body's ability to fight the "bad stuff." I am no longer invincible. I am utterly human, and there is no guarantee that I will live to be 100. A good attitude, strong support network, and healthy lifestyle guarantee me nothing. This, of course, is no different from the minute before I found my lump; it's just that I'm always aware of it now.
I will never regain my innocence. There will always be two parts to my life: before and after breast cancer. The loss of innocence is the dividing point between those points.
Despite all that, I do wish to move on. So how do I move on, while acknowledging that life will never again be what it once was?
I think that the answer to that question will come slowly, over time. I don't pretend to have it figured out, and I know that what is true for me will not ring true for others...my truth is not an absolute truth, and what's more, it may be an ever changing truth.
Right now, here's what I know. I know that I want to stop losing time to cancer. For nearly a year, every moment has been colored by cancer. I have felt the aches and pains of treatment as a daily reminder, and I have felt the heartache of wondering what would happen if treatment didn't work. It's time to move past that. With the removal of my final breast, the hard part of treatment is now officially over. My time will not be robbed, daily, by cancer's after-effects, because now I am working on healing. Nothing else will be taken from me: from here on out, my hair will grow longer, my breasts will return to me (in some form!), and the hours of my days will be less and less painful as my body returns to fitness and health. Soon, I will be able to chase Tessa again, to scoop her up in my arms and throw her up in the air and catch her, and my body will not shriek at me to STOP before I fall down from the pain. Soon, I will be able to exercise daily, to keep house and to cook food, to organize playdates, to assist friends and family with their needs, to work regular hours for the BSD. That is what it means to move on. I want to move out of a land where pain is the guideline for how much I can do, and where my hours and days are stolen by doctors, technicians, and drugs. There were many weeks when I had 10 appointments per week; there has not been a week without medical appointments (except Christmas) since the whole mess started, and. I still have appointments and scans, I still have doctors to see, but only sometimes, not all the time.
With clear pathology on my hysterectomy and mastectomy, and a clean whole-body MRI and CT scan, I am disease free. Now, I need to go about the business of living, and I really want to live. I am impatient to enjoy long summer days, to BBQ with friends, to bring my body to never-before-seen levels of fitness. I want to live fully, with full knowledge of the beauty that life presents itself. I will not take it for granted. I want to seize every day and live it to the fullest, because a little voice whispers in my ear "At any moment, this can all change, and tragedy can strike. Don't throw away what you're given! This is your life, and it's short. Make a difference! LIVE!" It's a bittersweet message: full of hope and strength and courage to make the most of my life, tinged with the fear that I will have to relive some of the past year again in the future. I know that I may die young. I don't plan on it, but I know that my plans have nothing to do with it. All I can do is make the most of my days, and hope and pray that I live to watch my daughter grow old, my husband at my side, surrounded by friends and family.
I'm ready to move on in this new universe I live in. I will never forget that I am a breast cancer survivor, but I hope to live my life as more than just a survivor - I want to take every minute and squeeze the essence from it, absorbing all of the joy that the world has to offer me. What's more, I want to give joy to those around me. I want to give my family the best of me, to share and learn from friends and family, and to inspire other breast cancer survivors. I want to use my life for something useful: I want to leave the world a better place than I found it. I pray that I can be part of the solution to finding a cure for breast cancer; I will not forget the cause. I want to remember my diagnosis, without being defined by it.
The anniversary of my diagnosis is a monumental day for me. I barely remember the self that existed before that day...she seems so far away now. I hope that I can revisit her, and recapture some of her spirit, while keeping some of the strength that I have earned and learned in the past year.
Moving on. I'm trying, that's for sure. It sounds so beautiful to me - to move on, and reclaim my life. That is what I am working on, on this beautiful sunny day.
Love,
Kristina
Obviously, my diagnosis changed the rest of my life. The thing that I miss most, more than my breasts or hair, is my innocence. Before June 1, 2005, I was innocent. Aside from the tragedy of my cousin Kathy's death at age 17 in 1988 (I miss her every day, to this day), I had not been deeply touched by tragedy. I don't know if I felt invincible, but it did seem like bad things happened to other people. The diagnosis changed all of that, and in a heartbeat. Not only did I lose body parts, and a year of treatment, but I also lost confidence in my own body's ability to fight the "bad stuff." I am no longer invincible. I am utterly human, and there is no guarantee that I will live to be 100. A good attitude, strong support network, and healthy lifestyle guarantee me nothing. This, of course, is no different from the minute before I found my lump; it's just that I'm always aware of it now.
I will never regain my innocence. There will always be two parts to my life: before and after breast cancer. The loss of innocence is the dividing point between those points.
Despite all that, I do wish to move on. So how do I move on, while acknowledging that life will never again be what it once was?
I think that the answer to that question will come slowly, over time. I don't pretend to have it figured out, and I know that what is true for me will not ring true for others...my truth is not an absolute truth, and what's more, it may be an ever changing truth.
Right now, here's what I know. I know that I want to stop losing time to cancer. For nearly a year, every moment has been colored by cancer. I have felt the aches and pains of treatment as a daily reminder, and I have felt the heartache of wondering what would happen if treatment didn't work. It's time to move past that. With the removal of my final breast, the hard part of treatment is now officially over. My time will not be robbed, daily, by cancer's after-effects, because now I am working on healing. Nothing else will be taken from me: from here on out, my hair will grow longer, my breasts will return to me (in some form!), and the hours of my days will be less and less painful as my body returns to fitness and health. Soon, I will be able to chase Tessa again, to scoop her up in my arms and throw her up in the air and catch her, and my body will not shriek at me to STOP before I fall down from the pain. Soon, I will be able to exercise daily, to keep house and to cook food, to organize playdates, to assist friends and family with their needs, to work regular hours for the BSD. That is what it means to move on. I want to move out of a land where pain is the guideline for how much I can do, and where my hours and days are stolen by doctors, technicians, and drugs. There were many weeks when I had 10 appointments per week; there has not been a week without medical appointments (except Christmas) since the whole mess started, and. I still have appointments and scans, I still have doctors to see, but only sometimes, not all the time.
With clear pathology on my hysterectomy and mastectomy, and a clean whole-body MRI and CT scan, I am disease free. Now, I need to go about the business of living, and I really want to live. I am impatient to enjoy long summer days, to BBQ with friends, to bring my body to never-before-seen levels of fitness. I want to live fully, with full knowledge of the beauty that life presents itself. I will not take it for granted. I want to seize every day and live it to the fullest, because a little voice whispers in my ear "At any moment, this can all change, and tragedy can strike. Don't throw away what you're given! This is your life, and it's short. Make a difference! LIVE!" It's a bittersweet message: full of hope and strength and courage to make the most of my life, tinged with the fear that I will have to relive some of the past year again in the future. I know that I may die young. I don't plan on it, but I know that my plans have nothing to do with it. All I can do is make the most of my days, and hope and pray that I live to watch my daughter grow old, my husband at my side, surrounded by friends and family.
I'm ready to move on in this new universe I live in. I will never forget that I am a breast cancer survivor, but I hope to live my life as more than just a survivor - I want to take every minute and squeeze the essence from it, absorbing all of the joy that the world has to offer me. What's more, I want to give joy to those around me. I want to give my family the best of me, to share and learn from friends and family, and to inspire other breast cancer survivors. I want to use my life for something useful: I want to leave the world a better place than I found it. I pray that I can be part of the solution to finding a cure for breast cancer; I will not forget the cause. I want to remember my diagnosis, without being defined by it.
The anniversary of my diagnosis is a monumental day for me. I barely remember the self that existed before that day...she seems so far away now. I hope that I can revisit her, and recapture some of her spirit, while keeping some of the strength that I have earned and learned in the past year.
Moving on. I'm trying, that's for sure. It sounds so beautiful to me - to move on, and reclaim my life. That is what I am working on, on this beautiful sunny day.
Love,
Kristina
Monday, May 15, 2006
Proud of Ryan
First, I need to say that I'm very proud of Ryan for all that he's accomplished over the past months. He has developed a positive outlook, and his smile truly gladdens my heart. Ryan is a fabulously smart and talented individual, and some company is going to be so incredibly fortunate to have him working for him.
That said, the Microsoft position did not come through, and of course that's disappointing. There is a silver lining, however: the team all thought that Ryan was "Microsoft material," just not a good fit for the position, and the recruiter has another position in mind that she'd like Ryan to interview for. We'll hear more soon...and we hope for the best, of course.
I'd also like to post a couple of pictures: a before and after of Ryan. The first picture was taken on my first Mother's Day, when Ryan was at his heaviest weight. The second was taken yesterday on Mother's Day - look at how handsome my husband is! He continues to work hard at Weight Watchers with me, and he's almost lost more than I have (we're neck in neck). Wahooooo! I'll also post one of me yesterday - I don't think it's the most flattering, but it certainly shows that I've lost weight from where I started. :-)
That said, the Microsoft position did not come through, and of course that's disappointing. There is a silver lining, however: the team all thought that Ryan was "Microsoft material," just not a good fit for the position, and the recruiter has another position in mind that she'd like Ryan to interview for. We'll hear more soon...and we hope for the best, of course.
I'd also like to post a couple of pictures: a before and after of Ryan. The first picture was taken on my first Mother's Day, when Ryan was at his heaviest weight. The second was taken yesterday on Mother's Day - look at how handsome my husband is! He continues to work hard at Weight Watchers with me, and he's almost lost more than I have (we're neck in neck). Wahooooo! I'll also post one of me yesterday - I don't think it's the most flattering, but it certainly shows that I've lost weight from where I started. :-)
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Yard Sale Results; Happy Mother's Day!
Yesterday's yard sale was a phenomenal success - just thinking about how many people contributed to its success through donations, volunteer time, baking, etc. brings tears to my eyes. I am overwhlemed with gratitude! There were literally hundreds of people that came by and shopped, and I'm glad for that, too.
And (drumroll please): We raised over $2100!!!!! THANK YOU! The money will be divided up among participating team members to put in their Breast Cancer 3-Day accounts, so that individuals can get closer to their goals. (Each team member needs to raise $2200 in order to participate in the walk.)
I took a few photos that I will post later. Now, I must go and enjoy Mother's Day! Happy Mother's Day to the wonderful mothers in my life: I am blessed by my own mother's love, and I am grateful for the many mothers in my life who have helped to mother me, or who have set great examples of mothering for me to learn from.
Love,
Kristina
And (drumroll please): We raised over $2100!!!!! THANK YOU! The money will be divided up among participating team members to put in their Breast Cancer 3-Day accounts, so that individuals can get closer to their goals. (Each team member needs to raise $2200 in order to participate in the walk.)
I took a few photos that I will post later. Now, I must go and enjoy Mother's Day! Happy Mother's Day to the wonderful mothers in my life: I am blessed by my own mother's love, and I am grateful for the many mothers in my life who have helped to mother me, or who have set great examples of mothering for me to learn from.
Love,
Kristina
Friday, May 12, 2006
WOW - Yard Sale Update
Today, for the first time, I fully understand how GIGANTIC the yard sale is going to be. People brought by items all day long, and I'm thrilled by the sheer enormity of goods that we have to sell. There's furniture, more clothes than any 20 people could wear, a Toys'R'Us worth of toys and children's thing, and household stuff enough to furnish a couple homes (I think I counted 8 lamps, 4 crockpots, etc).
So many people are helping with time and donations that I am truly touched (and overwhelmed). I look forward to a festive atmosphere tomorrow - come on by if you live in the area, and see what treasures we have for sale! 100% of the proceeds benefit the Breast Cancer 3-Day. We WILL find a cure.
Love,
Kristina
So many people are helping with time and donations that I am truly touched (and overwhelmed). I look forward to a festive atmosphere tomorrow - come on by if you live in the area, and see what treasures we have for sale! 100% of the proceeds benefit the Breast Cancer 3-Day. We WILL find a cure.
Love,
Kristina
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
drains out!
Today, as planned, my two remaining drains were removed. HURRAH! I hated those things, and I'm already much more comfortable. I feel fortunate as some women have had to keep their drains in for as long as a month, so at one week, I really won the prize.
This means that I also got to see my breast without bandages on it. It's not pretty by any stretch of the imagination, but it looks like it has a lot of potential. It's tiny right now, and yellow with bruises, and bright blue (!) stitches where they removed the nipple, and swelling where there isn't usually swelling...but one day, it will look like a "real" breast and I live for that moment.
I'm only taking a pain pill at night at this point, and I'm able to function during the day without one. That's good, because some of the pain meds make my vision fuzzy and my head feel fuzzier, so I like to avoid them.
Good night, all!
Kristina
This means that I also got to see my breast without bandages on it. It's not pretty by any stretch of the imagination, but it looks like it has a lot of potential. It's tiny right now, and yellow with bruises, and bright blue (!) stitches where they removed the nipple, and swelling where there isn't usually swelling...but one day, it will look like a "real" breast and I live for that moment.
I'm only taking a pain pill at night at this point, and I'm able to function during the day without one. That's good, because some of the pain meds make my vision fuzzy and my head feel fuzzier, so I like to avoid them.
Good night, all!
Kristina
Drains come out today; yard sale update
The drains are coming out today - hurrah! hurrah! I hate the ()@()&%#) things, and it will be quite a relief to be rid of them.
I will be at doctor's appointments (plastic surgeon for drain removal, regular oncologist appt, regular Herceptin infusion) all afternoon, but this morning Ryan's dropping Tessa and I off at PEPS. I'm still a bit hesitant to drive because I can't lift my arm up very high (a problem for steering) but I'm hopeful that I'll get clearance to drive soon.
Tomorrow night I'm going to Northwest Hope and Healing's fashion show fundraiser, and I'm looking forward to the girls' night out aspects as well as to contributing (in a small way) to the cause.
Friday and Saturday will be taken up by the yard sale; on Friday evening there will be a pricing/sorting party, and the yard sale itself is at our house on Saturday. I'm realling hoping to break $1000 on this sale, as tons of people are contributing items for donation, and it's part of the MegaWatt sale so we're getting free advertising and publicity, so we expect a lot of traffic. All proceeds go to The Breast Cancer 3-Day; participants in the yard sale who are doing the 3-Day will split the proceeds of the yard sale to contribute toward their individual 3-Day totals. I'm amazed at how much work must go into this sale, and I'm amazed at how kind people are about helping. I am truly blessed!
If you're in West Seattle on Saturday, c'mon by the the sale at my house. There are a ton of baby/kids' items, as well as household items, a few items of furniture, clothing, and much much more. Out of the thousands of items donated, surely something would suit you? :-)
Love,
Kristina
I will be at doctor's appointments (plastic surgeon for drain removal, regular oncologist appt, regular Herceptin infusion) all afternoon, but this morning Ryan's dropping Tessa and I off at PEPS. I'm still a bit hesitant to drive because I can't lift my arm up very high (a problem for steering) but I'm hopeful that I'll get clearance to drive soon.
Tomorrow night I'm going to Northwest Hope and Healing's fashion show fundraiser, and I'm looking forward to the girls' night out aspects as well as to contributing (in a small way) to the cause.
Friday and Saturday will be taken up by the yard sale; on Friday evening there will be a pricing/sorting party, and the yard sale itself is at our house on Saturday. I'm realling hoping to break $1000 on this sale, as tons of people are contributing items for donation, and it's part of the MegaWatt sale so we're getting free advertising and publicity, so we expect a lot of traffic. All proceeds go to The Breast Cancer 3-Day; participants in the yard sale who are doing the 3-Day will split the proceeds of the yard sale to contribute toward their individual 3-Day totals. I'm amazed at how much work must go into this sale, and I'm amazed at how kind people are about helping. I am truly blessed!
If you're in West Seattle on Saturday, c'mon by the the sale at my house. There are a ton of baby/kids' items, as well as household items, a few items of furniture, clothing, and much much more. Out of the thousands of items donated, surely something would suit you? :-)
Love,
Kristina
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Home sweet home
I got home yesterday, and my mom brought Tessa home today, and so our family is together at home at last. It feels very good to be home!
I got the pathology from the removed breast: CLEAN! No evidience of cancer anywhere in the breast. What a relief!
Tomorrow I have doctor's appointments, and Thursday I hopefully will get the two remaining drains out (one has already been removed). Things move quickly, but not nearly as quickly as I hope for, of course.
I'm still feeling loopy from all the drugs but I'm weaning from some of the pain meds, so that should improve soon.
Love,
Kristina
I got the pathology from the removed breast: CLEAN! No evidience of cancer anywhere in the breast. What a relief!
Tomorrow I have doctor's appointments, and Thursday I hopefully will get the two remaining drains out (one has already been removed). Things move quickly, but not nearly as quickly as I hope for, of course.
I'm still feeling loopy from all the drugs but I'm weaning from some of the pain meds, so that should improve soon.
Love,
Kristina
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