Love Dad…..

Mornings are the hardest. It’s like when I awoke on Sept 12, 2001 and for just a minute I’d forgotten the world was changed forever and then the realization and horror hit me like a ton of bricks recalling the horrible terrorist events of the day before. It’s much like that now –  I wake in a haze -sometimes it’s 3am ,sometimes 4 am sometimes I even wake at those hours and somehow will myself not to let myself think or feel anything -and if I’m lucky it waits a little longer in the morning to pound me. That wonderful moment of haze and  then I feel the tug or shot of pain from my surgical scar but then the pounding realization that I lost my dad overwhelms me. I hurt all over. Grief emulates from the inside out.  

I know it will ebb someday but the loss of a parent  is so life changing – more painful than I could ever conceive.  

Sleep has been an elixir. But my body hasn’t wanted to do that much. Pain medication has been helpful and I have some because of the surgery -but I take it so sparingly for fear of addiction. I have hunger sometimes but no appetite. The wonderful meals people have brought over – smell so good-yet I try to eat but I’m not able to get much down. 

On days where I can’t eat much I go for the bad stuff-cake or ice cream – cookies (except my dogs ate most of those when they found them near my bed). Even then I can’t eat in much quantity. I know this is the grief diet -the lack of appetite and the white sugar carb only foods that keep me fueled. We’ve met before. It will subside in time. 

Losing a parent is -at least for me -so profound. I realized in the wake of all that the last weeks have brought that I’ve always been a child. And thankfully because I still have my dear mom I still am.  But as soon as I learned that my dads situation was dire I yelled in my room “daddy don’t leave me” over and over.  I hadn’t called my dad daddy in years. The grief that hit me was paralyzingly. A couple of my kids were home and i heard them shuffling outside my door and I tried to calm myself – I’m not sure I heard myself yelling. My daughter came in and asked if she could do anything and asked if she should stay home from work. I know for her that work was the best place for her to be.  I told her it was ok to go. As it turned out she was able to say goodbye to my dad over the phone when she got home later that night. We held a prayer circle around my dad with family on the phone and my brother and his friend by my dads side in Florida. 

We didn’t have time to get down to Florida to be there. I didn’t go down to help my brother navigate my dads medical issues that led to this last trip to the hospital bc I was recovering from surgery.  It’s that suddenness that’s is so hard. You wonder what your last words were that he was conscious to hear. You wonder what things you wish you said when the person was living. 

My last words to my dad when he was conscious in the Physical in-patient rehab facility were “I Love You”.  My last words to him as he left the world were the same. 

I’m still not sure I can bring myself to write about the last weeks of my dads life.  I’m still getting my mind wrapped around the fact he’s gone. But I would be remiss in not talking about my dad. I spent a lot of time not writing about him when he was living. And I did so because my dad had his flaws. I guess I didn’t want to hurt him if he read anything unflattering  about himself.  We all have flaws but I didn’t want to hurt anyone I loved. We had a roller coaster ride of a relationship. Not often understanding each other. My teen years with him were hard. My dad liked to drink and back then he could be an angry person when he had too much. I also am sure my teenage antics caused him a lot of reasons to get angry with me. There are so much that goes into the dynamics of a relationship. And through the years I sometimes felt like my dad didn’t like me and often I didn’t like him. But man did I love him. And I always will. And I know that though we could have so many differences from politics to how we chose to live our lives that my dad may not have always liked me but I know he loved me. 

His ways of showing love were different than obvious affection. He didn’t like goodbyes at all. So it was fitting that he never regained consciousness in his last hours. If he knew he was leaving us he’d have preferred to slip away. But he had a fierce sense of responsibility to my brother and I.  His desire was to leave us each some money. And he succeeded. Though I’d prefer to having my dad around still to drive me nuts than to have the money he left me. But I know he’s happy that he was able to leave us this final  gift.  

My dad had grown up less than wealthy and had been fortunate to receive a great education with the help of a wealthy and wonderful Uncle named Jim. And that education enabled him to become a successful businessman. He was always careful with his spending. I often thought he was a miser.  Sometimes it was so hard for him to spend a dime. He loved money too much sometimes but I think there was great fear in somehow losing it.

 In my youth I began seeing money as a means of control and I saw that money didn’t always buy happiness. So I went the opposite  direction and mismanaged my money and then my families and that infuriated my dad when I mistakenly told him about out issues a couple years ago. It was fear that drove that anger but it hurt me. One never gets over wanting to please their parents.  Eventually we filed bankruptcy and I don’t know if my dad ever knew this fact. But from that I learned so much we are back on our financial feet – doing better – making better choices on spending and saving – and I don’t plan on mismanaging the money I inherit.  In fact the last time I saw my dad he introduced me to his financial advisor- hoping that when he died I would use him.(and I will).  As it turns out the advisor is also the administrator of my dads trust. I had no idea six months ago when I met him we would be meeting again so soon.  Making sure he could leave us some money was a final gift of love that my dad left us. I want to be smart about it for my families benefit and out of respect to my dad. 

My dad and I had an argument about a year or two ago. He had a hard time listening to me and I suppose I became loud and frustrated as I had many times over the years but I had tried to quell in recent years preferring to just try listening to him bc I loved him and maybe it didn’t matter if he actually heard me. (I began writing when I was a kid solely so I could express myself because I felt my words went unheard so often – even with my peers – maybe all kids feel that way but it’s in this frustration of needing to be heard that my writing need and desire were born -so in many ways I’m grateful). Anyway that day I yelled back and the argument didn’t end well. We were on the phone which complicated things more I think. My dad used his speaker when he chatted and that made me nuts – though I use speaker now often- is it an age thing or a tech thing but it can be so annoying causing disjointed conversations. Maybe we were both on speaker that day booming voices being heard talking over each other. Nobody listening. So the call ended not well and now I can’t recall if someone hung up on the other but it was a bad ending. Which led me to promise myself I wasn’t going to call him ever again ( so teenager-esque –we are children always with our parents and our immaturity can really come out when dealing with them). 

About a week after that argument I got an envelope from him from his home on Marco Island, Fl. It was kind of bulging.   I opened it to find two pretty, white sand dollars wrapped in tissue. One had broken a bit but the other – the big one- remained intact. – and a small note was included that simply said “I thought you might like these . There are many here on the Island. – Love Dad.”  There was no I’m sorry -but he had raised the white flag with the gift of those beautiful white sand dollars. And I called him to thank him- we never mentioned the fight. But that act by a sometimes impossible man was how he best showed his love.  Those sand dollars will forever be in my shell collection vase. They aren’t just stuff from the sea – which he and I both loved- they are a gift of love. 

Dad and I were on a good run in the last year or more. We were in a good place. We talked often on the phone and had a nice visit in Florida last March. I’m so very grateful for that. I laugh as I recall some of those conversations. Ones which often ended with a speech about the candidate for President he very much disliked. I just listened and laughed bc he was very funny.  He wasn’t looking for a conversation or my opinion -he just wanted to be heard and an ear I gave.

 I suppose I held on to some sadness and anger over the differences we had over the years even when I thought I had let them go. But I know I’ve let much of it go now.  Everything he was became so clear to me in the moments he was dying. Not the flaws or disagreements, not just my daddy, but the whole man. All I felt was love for this big personality that was part of my life.  It was as if God gave me that gift of seeing him as a human -exactly like me. A soul trying to figure out how to get through this thing called life – and trying to love in the best way he could.  


Why I won’t vote this year -thank you Dad. 

Last Sunday I lost my dad suddenly and the pain is profound. I can’t even write much about it all yet. I still feel as if this is all just a horrible dream. 

I’m really worn out. I’ve had chronic pain issues over the last few years after breast cancer treatment. It hit high levels this summer and I had surgery on Oct 12 – on that day we hadn’t been able my to reach my dad and not the day before either- which was very unusual. Eventually he was found on the floor of his condo the next day Oct 13. He was rushed to ER which began a journey of ups and downs that ended in his unexpected death ten days later. 

It’s all been too much for me. The last there years – the cancer – the pain – financial trouble- the loss of my father in law – trying to find doctors to help me – moving my frail mother in law to assisted living – worrying about newly widowed mom living alone and in pain in PA. – finally having some complex nerve  surgery that seems to have helped some of my problems but maybe not all  (BC I’m still healing) -but then the icing on the cake is the loss of my father. Sometimes I just think I can’t face another second of this life. I’m so tired and beaten down. I’ve yet to figure out what I’m supposed to learn from all this. Maybe it’s resiliency but now it feels like shit. 

My Heart is cracked open. And if you’ve had that happen and most of us have – sometimes there are no words to really express what we feel. And sometimes we just don’t want to share those raw bits and pieces. But I’m a writer and I eventually will need to get out the things I feel. Now there are too many questions. Too much sadness and anger.  Just too much. 

I am as close to my breaking point as I’ve ever been. Sometimes I just want to follow my daddy to the other side. But my dad was not one to give up and neither am I. But lord I’m so tired in so many ways. 

In these last few days I’ve yet again been reminded that the very most imperically important thing is In this world is love. LOVE.  

And that’s why I’m not voting.  All I’ve seen in the last few months as I’ve layed in bed in pain -is anger and hate. And I’ll admit I’ve had a lot  of anger on my own I didnt need to feed off of more of it from other sources.  

 Anger and hate have lashed out over this crazy dance we call running for president -and it’s really not the election and really not politics. These forums just bring out the anger and hurt that’s in our world. It magnifies it. It’s shows the opposite of love.  Its just one of the focal Hate cancers that permeate our society. And I can’t bring myself to vote In a system that magnifies hate from it. It might just be too soul crushing for me. And I need things to enlighten my soul right now. Not things that poison it. 

When my dad lay dying in the hospital we formed a circle of love around him.  Most family unable to get there because it all happened so fast. My brother at his side in the ICU of a hospital in Florida along with his friend Jeff by his side – I was here in Maryland on the phone with Jeff which he held next to my fathers ear  -and Kevin and my kids were in the room with me and my brother had his family on his phone. We surrounded my dad with love as we said goodbye and prayed and told him how much he was loved. Later my brother sat with just me on the phone in that quiet ICU while we waited for my dad to take his last breath. I was holding my brother’s hand metaphorically as he held that phone -and in the opposite hand held my dads hand in his.  I spoke prayers and verses I found on the internet. The nurse removed his breathing tube -We prayed that God would lift him up – We cried – and my brother and I waited for our dads soul to rise into eternity – our hearts breaking.

 My friends this is love. 

And this is where I belong. In the realms of love  Not in the hatred of this world. My fragile soul was born into a world of such love but where there are cancers of hatred. I can no longer bring myself to be part of that sickness.

My soul seeks so much of a different path.  

My dad who loved politics and who loved to tell me often and in detail of his dislike of the candidate he planned on not voting for -would be appalled at me for not voting. I think I told him that one year many years ago  I wrote in my dog as my choice for president. Now thinking back I may never have told him that. He may have stopped speaking to me. Well dad- if you can read in heaven – I voted for Gator my greyhound and I chose Jay Jay Star his greyhound friend as be his Vice President. Sorry. But it’s what I had to do. 

And this year I won’t be voting and  I am not voting ever again if all that permeates from an election is hatred. I don’t expect profound love coming from any competitive race but what I expect is respect and decency.  Not venom from candidates which lathers people who watch with that venom and then It begins to spread. Friends hate friends for opposing views. Slinging barbs to someone they once would have never considered saying those things to. It’s a cancer. 

I know my dad would have given me many reasons why my vote matters and what a priveledge it is that we have such a system in our country.  But sadly his death made me drive my stake in the sand even more.  “Not gonna do it.” If I can paraphrase  Dana Carvey who used to parody former President Bush. 

I wish people would remember  that the nucleus of humanity is love. We see it come out sometimes when we least expect it.  We humans can really rally when shit hits the fan. And love really does win.  But it’s our human condition that seems to so easily allow us to gravitate to the cancers of hate. Why do we forget we are all worthy of compassion and respect? 

I don’t feel strong enough anymore to spend my time among hate. I’m not sure it’s from my wisdom where this comes – I think it’s just a worn spirit that knows from where it needs to get its water – the clean spring bringing waters of love. Not the dirty one bringing waters from sewage of hate. 

Sometimes I wonder if I’m supposed to be here on this earth. Like maybe there is another planet I was supposed to be on. Like my soul got delivered to the wrong place. Maybe the only such place I dream of only exists in heaven -on the other side of this place called earth.    

 In my own humanness I’ve had anger issues of my own. I’ve lashed out at my kids when they’ve hurt me or frustrated me. I held some anger for my own dad for years. Most of my anger comes from hurt or fear. Once you can see where it comes from you can try to work on it. And I’ve found as I’ve aged that I just need to try to step away from my fear and move very far away from hatred machines as best I can. 

In that moment when I knew I was saying goodbye to my daddy for a final time until I will -God Willing- see him again – all that I felt was love for this man. And in that sterile ICU –that I could only see in my imagination – all that exuded was love. And then it’s so obvious to me – in that moment of pain and sorrow that it’s all that matters in this world is Love. Why is that so hard  for humans to live each day by?  The answer is because we are human. 

If I only get to go through this journey of life on earth once I’m going to stand away from things that permeate hate.  And this includes this thing we know as an election – -it can unfold all on its own.

 I’m out.  

And I don’t even care anymore. My heart is ripped open and all I want to put into it now is love and as best as I can I want the output to be love – for as long as I live. 

My vote is for LOVE. 

“Love one another” –Jesus Christ. 

“I hope you Dance “-Lee Ann Womack 

Facing surgery. 

Tomorrow is my surgery day. I’m nervous which is normal. I feel a little bad about feeling nervous because I’ve prayed for for so long now for someone to give me some hope to help ease my pain. I finally found that doctor and I should be excited. 

I was excited early on after we got the ok from the doctor that he’d perform the surgery.  But as it’s closed in I’ve become less excited. 

I think in part because it’s surgery and that’s scary but also I want to get my hopes up that it will help reduce my pain a lot but then I’m afraid to get too hopeful. 

I want to be able to get out of bed and live my life.  Last spring I had pain as I’d had for over two years but I was dealing with it   It wasn’t optimal but I had a life outside the confines of my home and bedroom. Now it feels like such a reach to get that life back again. 

I’ve had to get my mind around my reality. It’s been hard. I was steadfast against taking any RX medications. Now I realize I may have to take some medications even after my surgery is over.  I’m taking some meds now BC once you get to a certain pain level ones stealth refusal to take medications is easily changed to give me whatever will make not hurt so much. 

I had never taken an opiate before but I have now. And even at 1/4 dose those suckers work. And I can see why people become dependent on them for pain relief and I can see how they can be used recreationally causing addiction. They make you feel good. So far I’ve only take a total of maybe 4 pills in all the months I’ve be feeling badly. I didn’t want to become needy for them. I so take Valium which for some reason helps my discomfort but I take that sparingly as welll.  I wonder after surgery where I’ll be with this. Directly after I’m sure to need pain meds. But I won’t know about the long term for a while. 

 After breast cancer surgery I didn’t take anything for pain and the pain was bad but doable for me. But I’ve read since that It’s good to take pain. meds after surgery as it may lower the existence of pain in the future. It has something to do with the brain and the nerves getting a rest from eacother. In fact in some cancer centers woman are given general anesthesia and a nerve block. This has been researched and it seems it also helps lessen the chance of post surgery long term nerve pain.  

My mind kind of goes everywhere today. I need to shower tonight. I have to be at the surgery center very early and my surgery is early. I have to leave the house before my kids get up. I need to get things ready so I can sleep (hopefully) as close to our departure time as possible. I have to wash my surgical area with some special soap before I go.  I’ll need to take meds before I go. I can’t eat after midnight. So I have planned a second dinner at ten.  Trying to get all this straight while being nervous is kind of overwhelming. 

I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who love me and who I love. I also have my sweet dogs milling around trying to help the take edge off of my nerves. I love how they just live life in the moment except when it’s almost chow time. They seem to anticipate that. It’s nice having my golden Rudy here. He chooses to be with me over playing in the yard with his buddies. He’s gotten a bit heavy -we will work on that with some ball throwing when  i am feeling better. 

Kevin -my husband- has been incredible through this. A better friend and partner I couldn’t ask for. You don’t realize until your sick how much it effects the entire family. This has been a 3 year ordeal. My kids have seen me at my worst through this. And I’m sorry for that. Maybe after this is done and I’m feeling better I can make it up to them in some fun way. 

Right now, I think I’ll do some meditation and prayer. That should help center me I hope. I’ll picture myself whole and walking on the beach.  Or riding my horse. I’ll think of the endpoint -focus on the outcome I  want. 

And maybe I’ll focus on the meal I want after surgery and I’m through recovery. 

I like to eat.  

Thanks to all who have sent me notes and have prayed and thought of me through all this. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers at 7am tomorrow if you can. 

God Bless. 


October has come – some thoughts from a breast cancer survivor

Holy Cow! It’s already October. The summer slipped away from me as I rested in bed trying to stay away from pain. And as I searched for answers to rid me of the pain. Now it is fall- one days oozed into another and what seemed like an eternity  of time as I sat in bed day after day has slipped away so very quickly. I look back and I still feel as if it should still be June.

I’m going into my fourth month of this hell with my pain issues. The pink will come out today. It’s breast cancer awareness month. It’s a good thing. But it’s hard for me to sort out my feelings really.

Today my son runs in a cross country meet. I haven’t been able to go to any of the meets this fall. Which is a bummer. Anyway for October -the runners are going to wear pink shoelaces. My son wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to all the trouble to change his laces. He’s a teen and has his lazy moments. I kind of wanted him to want to wear them bc his mom had breast cancer and bc i am still dealing w the after effects of treatments. And he lives it with me everyday. He’s used to a mom who  is sick in bed. That makes me sad. But his wearing the laces -that’s just a personal thing bc this son and I are so close. His wearing pink is significant to me bc he lives with the real truth -the real awareness.

He wrote an essay for his AP lit class last month . Part of it mentions how he was effected by my cancer. It made me cry.  I so wish I didn’t cause my family strife in this way. I rather cause strife by being a nagging mom not a sick one.

Three years ago on oct 3 I had surgery to remove the cancer from my right breast. It’s was a stage one cancer. Early stage. And I had a procedure done called a sentinel lymph node Biopsy where I had 4 lymph nodes removed – all returned negative for cancer. During surgery  I had little tiny surgical clips placed in my breast and in my armpit -also called the axilla. They are used to control bleeding and they help speed up the surgery.  Not all surgeons use them.  I followed my surgery with 30 rounds of radiation. Later I learned that radiation can be as damaging to the body as chemo and the effects of radiation can show up years later. I’ve since come to know cancer survivors who suffer from the effects of radiation treatments. I’d like to say in hindsight I would change something that I did back in 2013 but I really don’t know if I would. I didn’t have the gift of hindsight at that time. If I have been asked if I wanted surgical clips in my body I think I may have said no but I can’t for sure say that.

After surgery, I had pain and limited arm range of motion. Radiation intensified the issue. A few months after my treatments ended i was shoveling snow and something happened – when I awoke the next morning I had tingling sensations that went across my chest. It was very painful and it made me cough. Over the years I have had pain in the axilla and in my arm and those terrible sensations that would go across my chest. Nobody knew what was wrong. I saw many doctors with nobody really helping except to refer me to someone else. So I gave up. I was able to deal with the pain and I tried to live with it -figuring this was the price you paid for getting cured from cancer. Then this year in late late May I began to feel worse. The pain was getting much worse -and the horrible chest sensations occurring more often and they were much more severe.

By June it was getting so bad I was basically in pain for our entire vacation and when I came home we began to really push for answers. Which has been hell. I was in a very dark place for a good while.  Read more about that here. But our luck changed when we found our way  to some great and kind doctors who listened. A physiatrist I saw said it could be an issue with my surgical clips as they are located in my areas of focal pain.

That sent me back to my original breast surgeon who treated me like I was an alien and sent me to another breast surgeon that left me wishing I’d used him from the start of my cancer journey . He was finally Someone who looked at me – right at me- and saw a person in so much pain and I could see his shock in his eyes. I had come so drugged to his office for my appointment that day and  I still had to ask to be placed in an exam room while we waited for him to get out of surgery. I had to lay down. Sitting for long is too hard.  He walked in and saw me on the table with a heating pad in my armpit and he was shocked I was ever allowed to be in that much pain and he was even more shocked when I told him I was unable to get out of bed much and too use my right arm much brought on intense symptoms.

He sent me to his pain management center a few days later -where I had diagnostic injections – and all of those docs  -breast cancer and pain doc and a plastic surgeon I also saw – referred me to a peripheral nerve surgeon that also listened  and was so kind. He has seen a large number of breast cancer patients who suffer like I am. Post Breast Therapy  Pain Syndrome is only just now getting recognized as a thing in the medical communities. Often you get doctors not understanding your pain and you don’t know where to turn. Which sends you bouncing from one doctor to another.

But this doctor got it. I liked him right away. We talked a good while. He did a diagnostic injection in my armpit and I reported my results to him. He was happy enough with the results to agree to go in and resection my nerves. He agreed that surgical clips could be caught up in scar tissue and nerves and that this could be causing my pain issues. He didn’t know why I coughed from some of my chest sensations but didn’t cast me off as s crazy person.  He knows the issue occurred after the cancer surgery so he feels it’s all related to my axilla and breast pain. My surgeon is worried I may have internal tissue damage from radiation which can make the case more complicated. The things that we have to help eradicate the cancer can damage us further.

So on October 12 -a little over three years since my original cancer surgery I will be having nerve resection surgery. And he will remove as many surgical clips as he can.  I’m nervous but hopeful this will rid me of much of my pain so that I can again be a part of the world.

This brings me back to pink October and breast cancer awareness month. I’m all for creating awareness. But I think many of us are quite aware of breast cancer and cancer in general it’s everywhere.  All of us have been touched by cancer.  Do we need to be made more aware than me already are? I think awareness needs to expand its scope. I know this is a big fundraising month for breast cancer organizations. And that’s the point for the pink in your face for the month of October. And I think giving is great to help further cancer research to find less barbaric ways to treat this disease. Because it’s barbaric.

In Mexico there is a clinic where they treat breast cancer in a very different way. So much less invasive -breasts aren’t removed -the cancer is treated through the heating of the blood -and it also it involves diet changes ,supplements , the use of hormonal meds like tamoxifen. No chemo. No radiation.  They have good results in treating early stage cancers. Many of their patients achieve remission which is no evidence of cancer in their bodies and they didn’t have surgery or chemo or radiation. Pretty amazing. There are alternatives out there.

The month of awareness needs to extend to the entire truth. Cancer is a journey for the person having treatment.  It doesn’t end the last day of chemo or radiation.  We are all left with scars. Some physical some mental some financial. I had all of them. Cancer doesn’t effect just the patient. It effects the whole family. People think we just should get on with life. And most of us who are lucky enough to be in remission do. But we have scars. Fear always follows us. Sometimes chronic pain infiltrates us. Sometime it pops up years after treatment.

We freak out inside at any weird blood test result. I had one yesterday. Liver enzymes high. I think it’s because I had taken a pain killer and Valium right before the  visit to my primary care doc for a pre-op check. But they are higher than my blood draw a few weeks ago. In my head swirls so many thoughts.  Rational and irrational. I had a chest CT that said I had nodules on my lungs and three docs have told me they aren’t anything. But when you’ve had cancer you can’t let it go so easily. I’ll get a recheck  on these things after I deal with this pain issue.  It’s the trajectory having had cancer puts you on. You never really let your guard down.

Let the awareness continue. But let’s not make the end of the story just that we are survivors. That you rid us  of cancer – you’ve really put me in remission and I will try to do the right things to stay there.  Let’s tell the whole story.  Survivors can end up with chronic pain issues and other nasty side effects from the treatments. They can end up with recurrence and other types of cancers. Don’t ask us to be thankful we are still alive and we should deal with our new normal. I am thankful but theres just so much more to it than just telling someone to get over it and be thankful and get used to a new normal. My pain wasn’t addressed early on properly and now I’m in agony. And now hopefully I’ll be in less pain soon. But the mental wounds are hard to shake.

There too many people that suffer after cancer. Some things needs to be fixed to keep this from occurring. We need better after care for one. And its coming -I see it now after hunting down doctors familiar with post cancer pain – but the progression is slow.

I’m angry inside – but it comes from frustration over my situation and I want to make people aware of the true realities of cancer – not just the numbers Komen and other organizations throw out about survivor stats.

I’m that survivor and I am here to tell you the truth.  The good, the bad, and the ugly. Cancer is just the monster that begins the domino effect of a journey you never ever wanted to be on. I’ve seen my strength and weakness pop up in the same minute. I’ve Seen the very worst of myself and the very best. I’ve learned I’m resilient. I’ve seen the darkest depths of despair yet I’m here to tell you about them.

I’m the woman at the walk to raise money for a breast cancer center that’s helps treat woman who are low income or who are not insured. I’m the woman lying on the table face down getting pain block injections.  I’m the woman laughing out to dinner with friends. I’m the woman in tears bc her doctor doesn’t want to help her. I’m the woman stuck in bed trying to plan her daughters journey to get into college. I’m the woman who makes meals when others need help. I’m the woman taking in those meals now so her husband has one less thing to worry about.  I’m the woman who is facing surgery three years after my initial diagnosis. I’m not the only one. There are more of us. We are warriors.

I’m here to create real awareness that the cancer may be gone but the journey is never over.

I don’t mind the pink but just know there is more to the story -a lot more.

Cancer means so many things. It’s bowled over too many people. It’s a journey of warriors. When you see all the pink in October and your sick of it maybe if you’ve read my blog posts of late maybe you can look at the pink in a different way and you can know the story behind the story and think of those cancer warriors making their way through life trying to pick up the broken pieces and live their lives. And think of those fighters who have left us. This month should also be about them. The ones who are gone.  The cancer org’s won’t focus on that. I have a list of those brave souls that I knew that were taken by cancer- I bet you do too. When you see pink think of them.

And on October 12 if you have a minute to send a prayer up for me or send good vibes for my surgery and a good outcome that would be such a blessing to me.


See More on my pain journey here:

Sidelined -the summer goes on. 

Powerless- in search of MY power. 

Did I leave? 

Sitting on the deck