Notes From Supergirl

My Diary from the Trenches

No Hiding From Cancer

November30

It’s been a couple of months since my last post and I wouldn’t even know where to begin as far as catching everyone up. I think about blogging all the time and never make the time to do it. I’ve let myself sink into a focus on work and productivity and less on the things that truly matter. It is a constant battle now – knowing that life is short and I should only focus on living in the moment versus feeling like I have all of these things to make up for that I missed over the last 3 years. I feel behind in my career, my skills, my production and as if I have things to catch up to. It’s ridiculous, I see that. Days like today bring it all into focus.

I’m fine, no bad news. I just had one of those days where I couldn’t escape cancer. There was really sad news from a friend about a mutual acquaintance who is in a dire situation. She is a lot like me – young and with two young kids. I thought about her all day today. I thought about her as I went to a doctor’s appointment in the same building where my mother was treated with cancer. Just going into that building makes my stomach turn. I know it is a good hospital but I feel like that is the place she went to die. I know that’s not true, but that’s how I feel. There were other small voices from cancer throughout the day but what threw me over the edge was a Facebook post from a leukemia survivor. He is 4 years in remission now and doing great. But someone who had a transplant at the same time he did relapsed last year, as well as another friend of his who was treated shortly after that. People ask me all the time what the success of my transplant means and I always say that it means that I’m here today. As far as what it means for tomorrow, I don’t know. Reading stories about people relapsing 3 years out from transplant is gut wrenching. They say that making it to 5 years is a sign of cure. I have four to go. And I’m realizing more than ever that I better make the most of every one of these days I am free from this horrid disease.

I got on here to blog because I needed to vent about all of this and I’m trying to suppress the urge to Google leukemia statistics. My life has been amazing – and NOTHING short of it – for the last few months. I feel alive, I feel healthy, I have energy, I feel NORMAL. I LOVE my life and everything about it. Yes, I still complain about my hair but it’s there and that’s a beautiful thing. I know how lucky I am and people who know cancer often remind me. I was lucky to be given more time.

I am nine days away from my transplant anniversary. I have been waiting for this day and I am so happy about that I cry every time I think of it. Of all the races I trained for and all the finish lines I envisioned crossing, this is by far one of the most important ones. I am so insanely giddy about Christmas this year and actually being home with my family that words cannot express the emotion of it all. This time last year I was packing my bags to go to the hospital and not knowing if I would be back for Christmas. So I savor this time. But I’m also feeling a great deal of anxiety about my upcoming biopsy. I haven’t had one since the spring. I know it SHOULD be okay, but you just never know. Living in ignorance is truly bliss sometimes.

Alright, I’m done with the negativity. I must talk about one of the best things that has happened in the last few months. My cousin Kenny and his awesome gal Lynn put together a fantastic event to celebrate the 10-year anniversary of their winery and donated the proceeds to Team Inspiration. Roseann and I went out to California, along with my dad and some great friends, to partake in the celebration. Their was skateboarding, there was wine making and drinking, great food and lots of merriment. At the end of it all they raised $10,000 for TI!!!!! That money will help fund the Cancer Walking and Exercise Program at the University of Maryland that will begin in January. Roseann and I are simply speechless and incredibly humbled by all of those. Most importantly, we are grateful. I cannot wait to walk the halls of the cancer unit with other patients that I hope to inspire to get out of bed and not let this horrid disease get them down. Thanks to Kenny and Lynn and their very generous friends, Roseann has great plans for 2013.

I must run. It’s time to decorate the house, cuddle with kids and watch Christmas movies. I hope to have good news to report in a couple of weeks. Stay tuned.

posted under Part 3 - The Allo-Transplant | Comments Off