I am a week out of the operating room and the final pathology report came in today. That is the operating room I was in for seven hours with meticulous Surgeons and staff and the report that will determine my future. As we hoped, the cancer did not have time to spread anywhere else. I will not need chemotherapy or radiation. Merry Christmas to my family and me! This is my big miracle.
I keep telling myself the worst is over, but my wounds are fresh and the scars are deep. Sometimes it's hard to believe this isn't the worst. But the truth is, in the journey of love, the worst is in fact over and I continue to be showered with love and support.
Through the pain and confusion I am filled with a gratefulness that I don't know how I will ever be able to ever repay.
Thank you!
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Monday, December 5, 2016
Small Miracles
We often look for big miracles in life. When my cousin Mikey died, I thought I would wake up from the nightmare and realize it was just a horrible dream. I have a friend that physically could not get pregnant. I prayed she would defy science. With a cancer diagnosis, I think people dream of the tumor being gone minutes before the surgery to remove it. I hope for that miracle too, but I've learned to appreciate the small miracles, the everyday miracles.
With the big prayers come so many small miracles, we just have to open our eyes and see them. My husband first found the lump while we were lying down in bed. He rolled over and reached his arm over me. Almost instantly he said "what was that?" The small lump can only be felt when I'm laying down. It can’t be felt if I'm turned or sitting. When the doctor examined me, she said "most people wouldn't have caught that." (Thanks for saving my life A!) It was a small miracle that we found the lump so soon.
When I called to schedule a breast MRI, I was given an appointment in one week and one day. Shortly after setting the appointment the nurse called me back. She said the doctor wanted me to get the testing done sooner because of my menstrual cycle; otherwise I would have to wait until next month. I went in two days earlier. Maybe someone was just really efficient at their job, or maybe it was a small miracle.
When I got the test results to the MRI at 4:15 pm on a Tuesday (the office closes at 4:30), there was one appointment left for an ultrasound and biopsy on Wednesday morning at 7:30 am (the first appointment) or I could wait another day. I took that first appointment recognizing, though not fully, the value of it.
Last week I learned the doctors believe the cancer is in its very early stages, so early I may not need chemotherapy or radiation. The many prayers provided me with yet another miracle. This was the best case scenario!
It was an easy decision to be aggressive with surgery, but with the holidays, there were no surgery appointments available in December. I know the difference a month made with my mom's cancer. It was the difference from them not thinking she had cancer, to having stage 3 cancer. One month, that's what it took! But then...someone cancelled, and I was given two weeks to prepare. A small or maybe the large miracle I was waiting for.
I am a little scared, but with lots of prayers and small miracles I know it will all be ok. My daughter was playing in the first snow fall of the year today and she said "it is beautiful out here." The snow that adults curse and the cold that bites your skin was beautiful to her. I watched her laugh, sing and play. We caught snowflakes in our mouth and we spun around as we watched them fall on our faces. Every snowflake was a miracle. That moment with my daughter was a miracle. She is my miracle. She is right, it's beautiful out here, and I'm not taking anything for granted.
With the big prayers come so many small miracles, we just have to open our eyes and see them. My husband first found the lump while we were lying down in bed. He rolled over and reached his arm over me. Almost instantly he said "what was that?" The small lump can only be felt when I'm laying down. It can’t be felt if I'm turned or sitting. When the doctor examined me, she said "most people wouldn't have caught that." (Thanks for saving my life A!) It was a small miracle that we found the lump so soon.
When I called to schedule a breast MRI, I was given an appointment in one week and one day. Shortly after setting the appointment the nurse called me back. She said the doctor wanted me to get the testing done sooner because of my menstrual cycle; otherwise I would have to wait until next month. I went in two days earlier. Maybe someone was just really efficient at their job, or maybe it was a small miracle.
When I got the test results to the MRI at 4:15 pm on a Tuesday (the office closes at 4:30), there was one appointment left for an ultrasound and biopsy on Wednesday morning at 7:30 am (the first appointment) or I could wait another day. I took that first appointment recognizing, though not fully, the value of it.
Last week I learned the doctors believe the cancer is in its very early stages, so early I may not need chemotherapy or radiation. The many prayers provided me with yet another miracle. This was the best case scenario!
It was an easy decision to be aggressive with surgery, but with the holidays, there were no surgery appointments available in December. I know the difference a month made with my mom's cancer. It was the difference from them not thinking she had cancer, to having stage 3 cancer. One month, that's what it took! But then...someone cancelled, and I was given two weeks to prepare. A small or maybe the large miracle I was waiting for.
I am a little scared, but with lots of prayers and small miracles I know it will all be ok. My daughter was playing in the first snow fall of the year today and she said "it is beautiful out here." The snow that adults curse and the cold that bites your skin was beautiful to her. I watched her laugh, sing and play. We caught snowflakes in our mouth and we spun around as we watched them fall on our faces. Every snowflake was a miracle. That moment with my daughter was a miracle. She is my miracle. She is right, it's beautiful out here, and I'm not taking anything for granted.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
The Many Faces
Sitting in the plastic surgeon's office waiting for a consultation on an unusually busy day, I was struck by the diversity of women I knew were there, because they had breast cancer. When I mentioned that I noticed he had a number of women that were seeing him today related to their reconstruction surgery, he at first was a little taken aback, maybe he was worried he was violating HIPPA laws, but after thinking about it he said, "yeah, you can kind of tell can't you?" I am, if nothing else, observant. Five years of supporting my mom and I know what cancer looks like. But I also know what I need new bigger breast looks like versus, this is just part of my process to save my life. I know what tired and worn out look like. I know what I'm not giving up looks like too though.
As I watched the women, I wondered what their stories were, not just their cancer story, but their life story. "How did you get here?" "What other battles are you fighting?" I wondered as I looked at the women who ranged in age, race and ethnicity. White women get breast cancer more often than other races, but African American women are more likely to die from breast Cancer. But in that waiting room, there was no discrimination by the disease. There were immigrants both European and Latin American. There were women who worked and women with flexible schedules. There were suburbanites and city dwellers. I wanted to hug them all and remind them that they are warriors. In the end I decided against it, because well that would just make me a weirdo. But as I continue on my journey of love, I'm collecting mental snapshots in the waiting rooms. I will take their many faces with me. I will make silent prayers and give silent warm wishes. And maybe someday, I will hear their survival stories, but for now I will be a witness from the waiting room.
As I watched the women, I wondered what their stories were, not just their cancer story, but their life story. "How did you get here?" "What other battles are you fighting?" I wondered as I looked at the women who ranged in age, race and ethnicity. White women get breast cancer more often than other races, but African American women are more likely to die from breast Cancer. But in that waiting room, there was no discrimination by the disease. There were immigrants both European and Latin American. There were women who worked and women with flexible schedules. There were suburbanites and city dwellers. I wanted to hug them all and remind them that they are warriors. In the end I decided against it, because well that would just make me a weirdo. But as I continue on my journey of love, I'm collecting mental snapshots in the waiting rooms. I will take their many faces with me. I will make silent prayers and give silent warm wishes. And maybe someday, I will hear their survival stories, but for now I will be a witness from the waiting room.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Daughter of a Warrior
Daughter: Mama can you carry me?
Mother: Yes.
Daughter: Your owie doesn't hurt anymore? [worried about the biopsy site]
Mother: No baby, I can carry you.
Daughter: Yay!!!!!!
Mother: You know even when mommy has an owie, or is sick, or is throwing up, mommy is going to be ok, because mommies are strong!
Daughter: Yea, mommy is strong and she has girl power!
Mother: That's exactly right baby girl. Mommy has girl power.
I will be the warrior my mother was and I hope that it inspires my daughter to be a warrior too. The myth is that Amazonian women warriors cut off their right breast in order to better shoot a bow and arrow. Next steps/current life goals...be an amazonian warrior.
Mother: Yes.
Daughter: Your owie doesn't hurt anymore? [worried about the biopsy site]
Mother: No baby, I can carry you.
Daughter: Yay!!!!!!
Mother: You know even when mommy has an owie, or is sick, or is throwing up, mommy is going to be ok, because mommies are strong!
Daughter: Yea, mommy is strong and she has girl power!
Mother: That's exactly right baby girl. Mommy has girl power.
I will be the warrior my mother was and I hope that it inspires my daughter to be a warrior too. The myth is that Amazonian women warriors cut off their right breast in order to better shoot a bow and arrow. Next steps/current life goals...be an amazonian warrior.
#Jennysdaughter
#Catalinasmom
#girlpower
#warrior
#love
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
A Journey of Love
...I have Cancer...
I have cancer. How do you tell people? "how are you? Me? I'm great, but I have cancer." How do you tell someone you barely know? How do you tell someone you've known your whole life?
I have cancer. Not all cancer is created equal. It's not the ovarian cancer that killed my mom, but it comes from the same mutated gene, the only thing her sperm donor father left behind. How do you tell those family and friends who were traumatized by her suffering and loss that her daughter now has a similar battle ahead of her?
I have cancer. How do you tell your motherless-daughter friend who has shared your fears and has healed with her daughter like you have with yours? How do you share that the breast that fed your daughter has been invaded by a traitor ready to fight you?
I have cancer. How do you give comfort to those who don't know what to say when faced with their own mortality by fearing yours?
...I have cancer...
Earlier this week, I received the call that I had known for years was a real possibility, and I always feared. "you do have a form of breast cancer." I scrambled to grab my list of questions and scrolled down to the "If it's cancer..." section. We didn't have answers to those questions yet. I didn't cry, not until I said those three words out loud for the first time. "I have cancer." I whispered. I allowed myself those tears of fear. Then, I let it go.
I have this inexplicable feeling. Everything is going to be ok. I don't know how I know this, I just do. It's sort of the same way, before those test results came back I knew this tumor was cancer. I just knew. I am scared. Of course I am scared of the Big C that's not welcome in this C-Club. But I'm ready to embark on this journey of love ahead of me.
That is what I have found this to be, a journey of love. I know the challenges an illness like this brings. I am not blind to this at all. I've seen it first hand, but I also know the love it brings. It brings a love that endures "in sickness and in health." It brings old friends who are ready to add this to the list of challenges and joys they have shared with me. It brings new friends who are ready to bond with me on whatever level I will let them. It brings family together to ensure that I don't have to be that reasonable rock I have always been if I don't want to. It brings the strength of the women who endured before me, willing to share their stories, their advice and their warm embraces. It brings my mom's love that surrounds me and never leaves me. It brings the joy, the hope and the love in my daughters eyes which inspire me day in and day out.
Yes, I have cancer, but that is just another way of saying I am embarking on a journey of love.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
My First Cancer Scare
Being BRCA2 positive means that while I have an increased risk of getting ovarian and breast cancer, there are things I can do to minimize my risk and for early detection. I had genetic testing done at 21, when the idea of mammograms and ultrasounds seemed far off. I was told when I was tested that I would have many false alarms; my doctors weren't going to take any risks with me. They were going to check everything out. This would mean I would have more biopsies in my life than most people do. Hearing this warning would help me years later.
About a month ago, I had my first "routine" mammogram and a pelvic ultrasound. These routine check ups are suppose to help with early detection. Even though it was a routine check up, it was emotional for me. I even wrote about how scary these check ups can be. I didn't realize, how much scarier, things could get, then my mammogram came back abnormal,
The last month has been a series of picking up medical records, delivering medical records, more testings, and lots of calls to my doctor, the hospital, and the insurance company. But, it has also been a month of sobering reality. I realized that I do not take care of myself. I am a typical Latina. I take care of my daughter, my family, and work, but not me. I knew that needed to change. If I want to be around to take care of those I love, than I need to take care of me. I know I want to be there at my daughters wedding. I want to live to be a grandma. I know, I never want to tell my brother that I have the cancer that killed our mother.
I started working out. I've worked out three times a week for the past month. I am watching what I eat and I'm taking more breaks. I'm hugging my baby girl tighter and randomly holding my husband's hand. Life is too short.
A biopsy this week showed that I do not have cancer. The relief is great, but I know the journey ahead of me is still long and difficult. I have many decisions to make. I plan on being aggressive in prevention. Someone said "but you have faith and believe in god, why would you want to go through preventative surgeries?" My answer is simple, you have to do your part then God will do the rest. I will do everything in my control to make sure I get to be here as long as I can.
Knowing that I have difficult choices and a bumpy road ahead of me makes me feel incredibly blessed. My mom didn't have these choices. For her, it was too late. There are also many women who don't have health insurance or the support system I have in place. I am lucky!
I'm ready for this beautiful journey & Thank you for coming along for the ride with me!
 |
| I survived my first biopsy! |
Monday, May 9, 2016
She is learning life lessons
May 2016
My daughter is only 2 and she is building her vocabulary, but already I can tell from her words the life lessons she is learning.
"Don't Worry Dada, Mama got it."
That's right baby, no matter what the task, if it is for you, I got it! Rest assured I will work hard to never let you down. And if I do, I will make it up to you! :) Mama got it!
"A skunk is yuck."
Well, yes, this is true. It is best to stay away from skunks.
"I beautiful" and "I so pretty"
You are beautiful, pretty and fabulous!!!!!! Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise
"Dada and grandma and grandpa love me."
You are loved my baby girl. You are loved by people who have never met you and by those who see you every day. I hope you will always love yourself as much as we love you!
"I had a good day."
May your life be a series of good days strung together.
"Don't Worry Dada, Mama got it."
That's right baby, no matter what the task, if it is for you, I got it! Rest assured I will work hard to never let you down. And if I do, I will make it up to you! :) Mama got it!
"A skunk is yuck."
Well, yes, this is true. It is best to stay away from skunks.
"I beautiful" and "I so pretty"
You are beautiful, pretty and fabulous!!!!!! Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise
"Dada and grandma and grandpa love me."
You are loved my baby girl. You are loved by people who have never met you and by those who see you every day. I hope you will always love yourself as much as we love you!
"I had a good day."
May your life be a series of good days strung together.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Words Matter Part 2
A while back I wrote how Words Matter. I've always believe in the power of words. Maybe that is why I love to read so much. In high school, Brother Ruhl (an amazing English teacher) taught me about le mot juste or the perfect word. I remember my first job out of college I was working on a press release and I spent way too much time on one word. I wanted to get it right. I believe in choosing words wisely, because words can be so powerful. They can empower or break a person down.
As my daughter begins to develop language skills, I find myself even more aware of the importance of word choice. We are cautious of the words we let her hear on television or the radio. We are careful of the words we teach her, but she goes to school and even as toddlers they learn so much from their peers.
Language is so much of who we are as people. My mom never allowed us to say the words "shut up" or "stupid." They were the ultimate disrespect. As an adult in my home, "I can't" is like nails on a chalkboard. We have taught our daughter to say "I need help" instead of "I can't"
What words do you let into your home/life? What words do you leave out?
As my daughter begins to develop language skills, I find myself even more aware of the importance of word choice. We are cautious of the words we let her hear on television or the radio. We are careful of the words we teach her, but she goes to school and even as toddlers they learn so much from their peers.
Language is so much of who we are as people. My mom never allowed us to say the words "shut up" or "stupid." They were the ultimate disrespect. As an adult in my home, "I can't" is like nails on a chalkboard. We have taught our daughter to say "I need help" instead of "I can't"
What words do you let into your home/life? What words do you leave out?
Monday, April 11, 2016
The Sign
Sometimes you get signs and you don't know what they mean and sometimes it hits you like a ton of bricks and the point is so obvious, there is no ignoring it. Last week, I was hit with a ton of bricks, and it felt surprisingly great!
I am BRCA2 positive, I have written many times about my cancer gene. I've written about my fears when I found out I was having a daughter, healing from losing my mom to cancer, and living without my mom. Last week, I had some screenings done as part of being proactive for early detection. It's always a scary thing, even if the test are routine. You can't help to think "what if." As I was in the waiting room I suddenly felt very sorry for myself. I was the youngest person in the waiting room except for a woman my age who was with her mother. I couldn't stop the tear from rolling down my cheek. My thoughts included "I shouldn't have to get this test done so early," "this should be my mom's routine test," and "I should have my mom here to ask her my questions about the procedure." I am usually a positive thinking person, for a moment, I just wanted things to be different. The lady performing the test was very nice and the test was much easier than the one I had earlier that morning. She asked me many questions, because "we don't get many of these cases." I am always happy to educate. The more we talk about BRCA2 and ovarian cancer the more relevant it becomes and the more we can all learn. I have always thought if someone can learn from my mom's experience than her death wasn't in vain.
As I was leaving, I was feeling a little better, but my heart was still heavy. Then I received a text message and picture from my childhood best friend. The message read:
My mom sent me a message. But the way she sent it to me was so significant. It wasn't a song or a reminder that she is with me. It was a reminder, that she did not leave me here alone. My best friend is my angel on earth. No one knows me better. No one knows where I came from or where I'm going better. No one can relate to my broken heart over the loss of my mom better than she can. I am grateful for her strength, her courage and her love and I know my mom is grateful for it too.
We are not alone!
I am BRCA2 positive, I have written many times about my cancer gene. I've written about my fears when I found out I was having a daughter, healing from losing my mom to cancer, and living without my mom. Last week, I had some screenings done as part of being proactive for early detection. It's always a scary thing, even if the test are routine. You can't help to think "what if." As I was in the waiting room I suddenly felt very sorry for myself. I was the youngest person in the waiting room except for a woman my age who was with her mother. I couldn't stop the tear from rolling down my cheek. My thoughts included "I shouldn't have to get this test done so early," "this should be my mom's routine test," and "I should have my mom here to ask her my questions about the procedure." I am usually a positive thinking person, for a moment, I just wanted things to be different. The lady performing the test was very nice and the test was much easier than the one I had earlier that morning. She asked me many questions, because "we don't get many of these cases." I am always happy to educate. The more we talk about BRCA2 and ovarian cancer the more relevant it becomes and the more we can all learn. I have always thought if someone can learn from my mom's experience than her death wasn't in vain.
As I was leaving, I was feeling a little better, but my heart was still heavy. Then I received a text message and picture from my childhood best friend. The message read:
As I was putting my laundry away this morning, this fell out of the pile of clothes. I don't even know how it got there. All I know is that it put a big smile on my face.
My BFF & My Mami
My mom sent me a message. But the way she sent it to me was so significant. It wasn't a song or a reminder that she is with me. It was a reminder, that she did not leave me here alone. My best friend is my angel on earth. No one knows me better. No one knows where I came from or where I'm going better. No one can relate to my broken heart over the loss of my mom better than she can. I am grateful for her strength, her courage and her love and I know my mom is grateful for it too.
We are not alone!
Friday, April 8, 2016
Dear Daughter: A Random Day with Random Thoughts That Could Be Any Day.
My Dearest Catalina,
You are growing up so fast! There are so many memories I want to keep, like this morning when you said "I see the Chicago water," but you meant the Chicago River. I want to remember you yelling "I have girl power" and the smile on your face when we pick you up at the end of the day. I want to remember your sweetness and your feistyness (even if that isn't a word). I want to remember your innocence and the tantrums. I want to always be challenged by you and always proud of your defiance. I love that you are "bossy," it means you have leadership skills. I want to hold everything about you in my pocket and keep it near me always. I know times will change. You will change. I will change. Life will change. But I hope that you will always feel my unconditional love and the freedom to be who you want to be.
I love you,
#CatalinasMom
You are growing up so fast! There are so many memories I want to keep, like this morning when you said "I see the Chicago water," but you meant the Chicago River. I want to remember you yelling "I have girl power" and the smile on your face when we pick you up at the end of the day. I want to remember your sweetness and your feistyness (even if that isn't a word). I want to remember your innocence and the tantrums. I want to always be challenged by you and always proud of your defiance. I love that you are "bossy," it means you have leadership skills. I want to hold everything about you in my pocket and keep it near me always. I know times will change. You will change. I will change. Life will change. But I hope that you will always feel my unconditional love and the freedom to be who you want to be.
I love you,
#CatalinasMom
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)