Oh, uuuuhm, Kyle is it morning? Oh I'm still tired from running the half marathon, but happy. Oh, I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed I had cancer this past year. What? I did? How can that be true? Well, when my boob itches and now I scratch it, I can't feel my fingernails on my skin, hmmm! Proof?
Sorry I haven't been posting, guys, I guess I've been too busy living my life.
So, on October 17th I had my "Cancerversarry" as Lily calls it. In a bizarre de ja vu twilight zone twist of fate, I spent it exactly the same way I did one year earlier, at Markoff's Haunted Forrest with my family, a tremendous bonfire and a couple hundred ghouls trying to scare me. Little did they know they didn't hold a candle to the oncology radiologist from Sibley I spoke to by cell phone while standing in the funnel cake tent. But this year there was no such horrifying phone call. This year there were only chain saws, heavy metal music and laughing. It was so much fun and even though I was a bit nervous about returning to the scene of the crime, it was a joyous occasion wraping up the past few weeks of celebration at the very end of my year of living dangerously!
ABOVE: Moni and I at mile marker 9.
ABOVE: My buddy Traci and I at mile marker 9 - it was a loooooong uphill
The most wonderful success was finishing the Baltimore half marathon with my sister, Moni. We did it together, every step. But I can't go without mentioning the rest of my Tough Alliance who ran too, John Lundin who came in from Detroit, Jim Kelly who came from Chicago, Sonia Jimenez who came with us from Ch Ch, my buddy Traci who we stopped and chatted with at the end of a long hill at mile 9, Tom and Monica Kearns who hosted us in Baltimore, and my amazing husband who kept telling me I could do it even when I didn't think so. Ok, so John And Jim did have stomach issues, but Monica and I even managed to beat them into the finish. (I think they let us). Back at Tom's house, we had BBQ and white chocolate cake. I love this race. I'm still shocked that I finished. I had been struggling a bit with plantar fasciitis. But I guess that's really nothing. My arm held up well even though it was a warmish day of 80 degrees. It was actually a gorgeous day and pretty much a carbon copy of one year ago. I'm committed to run this race every year I think.
And of course, only one week before Baltimore, I walked in the Breast Cancer 3-Day with 13 extremely determined and pink ladies.
ABOVE: Me and Moni at 6am in Potomac Mills parking lot to start the 3-Day Walk with the whole team
ABOVE: Sea of pink tents
ABOVE & BELOW: My mom and I visited the camp and drink wine out of paper cups with the team
ABOVE: Just before the finish line, Hope, Jill, Sonia, Liza, Erica and Annika and I toasted our success
At the closing ceremony walkers held up their stinky shoes in tribute to the hard journey of survivors
So today – November 4rth, 2008 – I’m sitting here at Georgetown Hospital on the 7th Floor, maybe for the last time. Today I’m getting my last Avastin infusion. It’s a big day, to say the least. I will continue with Dr, Claudine Isaacs and Nurse Nellie, of course for years but with any luck I will never find myself staring at the pink and blue curtains in Room 09.
ABOVE: Nurse Nellie on the left and Dr. Isaacs on the right - my friends!
But of course, that’s not the only historic event of the day. After I leave here, I will go to Somerset ES to proudly cast my vote for Barack Obama, who I fully expect to become the first African American to become president. The man is on fire. He is so hopeful and inspiring. It makes you cry from happiness. I read this morning that his Grandmother died yesterday, though. That’s so sad. Seems she was a victim of ovarian cancer. It must be a tough pill to swallow that she didn’t make it to see THIS day. I read that she spent a lot of time raising him and guiding him to become the person he is.
In any case, it’s still going to happen. Though it’s been and extremely tough year, personally and in the world, it feels like Progress is happening. I am so lucky despite the breast cancer. I’ve accomplished a lot and had great opportunities driven by the strength of Kyle and the kiddos, my sister and mom and all of you, my friends. I’ve seen so many bands in the last year, more than any other time in my whole life. It feels to me like a miracle has happened and you guys know I’m a skeptic, so that’s big.
In just few more days, my adventures continue. We’re going to Costa Rica. I will be able to check off some more life list items: see a volcano, relax in a hot spring, commune with another unbelievably beautiful body of water and explore a garden of earthly delight.
So after convalescing in Italy, I jumped back into the stream of life with both feet. I’m once again a part of that flow, gliding effortless and free. I no longer see walls in front of me at every step. No friction. I’ve regained synchronicity with the Universe. (In the back of my mind, there is a movie replaying that day last winter and the Helen Reddy music in the dentist office. Should I ever go back there? I think it might be time to change Desntists.) Did I actually have cancer last year? What a weird dream. Now the “Flow” feels so good, like it’s own special drug that keeps me high nearly all the time. Maybe that's just the emotional rollercoaster of the Tamoxifen, but it's only propelling me up, up, up.
OMG, there’s the beeper – IT'S FUCKING OVER!
Here is a fabulous song from Blitzen Trapper that comes to mind when I think of this moment
God & Suicide...
But of course, that’s not the only historic event of the day. After I leave here, I will go to Somerset ES to proudly cast my vote for Barack Obama, who I fully expect to become the first African American to become president. The man is on fire. He is so hopeful and inspiring. It makes you cry from happiness. I read this morning that his Grandmother died yesterday, though. That’s so sad. Seems she was a victim of ovarian cancer. It must be a tough pill to swallow that she didn’t make it to see THIS day. I read that she spent a lot of time raising him and guiding him to become the person he is.
In any case, it’s still going to happen. Though it’s been and extremely tough year, personally and in the world, it feels like Progress is happening. I am so lucky despite the breast cancer. I’ve accomplished a lot and had great opportunities driven by the strength of Kyle and the kiddos, my sister and mom and all of you, my friends. I’ve seen so many bands in the last year, more than any other time in my whole life. It feels to me like a miracle has happened and you guys know I’m a skeptic, so that’s big.
In just few more days, my adventures continue. We’re going to Costa Rica. I will be able to check off some more life list items: see a volcano, relax in a hot spring, commune with another unbelievably beautiful body of water and explore a garden of earthly delight.
So after convalescing in Italy, I jumped back into the stream of life with both feet. I’m once again a part of that flow, gliding effortless and free. I no longer see walls in front of me at every step. No friction. I’ve regained synchronicity with the Universe. (In the back of my mind, there is a movie replaying that day last winter and the Helen Reddy music in the dentist office. Should I ever go back there? I think it might be time to change Desntists.) Did I actually have cancer last year? What a weird dream. Now the “Flow” feels so good, like it’s own special drug that keeps me high nearly all the time. Maybe that's just the emotional rollercoaster of the Tamoxifen, but it's only propelling me up, up, up.
OMG, there’s the beeper – IT'S FUCKING OVER!
Here is a fabulous song from Blitzen Trapper that comes to mind when I think of this momentGod & Suicide...
i can live with god and with suicide
the same thing holds if i close my eyes
it's a truth so pure it can kill you dead
the taste of heaven mixed with hell inside of my head
if a three-four cord can ignite a flame
and a girl like you can forget my name
then i'm that far gone in this crooked grave
with a pistol for my creature and a feather for my day
when i do go down in a rain of toil
with a hand in my satchel and my knees in the soil
i can live with god and with suicide
a lover (Kyle) in her calico, a pony stands at her side
i can live with god and with suicide
the same thing holds if i close my eyes
it's a truth so pure it can kill you dead
the taste of heaven mixed with hell inside of my head
