word.

may the sun bring you energy by day,
may the moon softly restore you by night,
may the rain wash away your worries,
may the breeze blow new strength into your being,
may you walk gently through the world and
know its beauty and harmony all the
days of your life. - apache blessing


i really don't remember when we last checked our mail.
apparently, it had been a while
due to the explosion of paper
when i opened the small door.

i made two piles.
cards in one;
bills, surgery procedure packets, and magazines
in the other.

i can pay bills and be serious about
medicine and stuff
tomorrow.

for now? i am wading in a
paper love-fest.
i can feel your strength
and your arms around me.
i can hear each of you saying the words you wrote,
on paper and in your emails.
and i know you love me.
this is what gets me through.

nothing is more important than friends and family.
i am so blessed.
and so aware.

work

my oncologist called me this morning.
after speaking with my colleagues, and expressing
my concern about what we are dealing with,
the same answer came up repeatedly.
take it out.
get it out.
let's take no risks.

i have an aggressive form of cervical cancer.
it isn't the one that people read about:
the slow moving one that, if caught in time,
is easy to contain and zap.

my cancer is a mover and a shaker.
so they want to make sure that there are zero
of these raucous cells left in my nether regions.

two weeks ago, i was told that i probably had stage 2 cervical cancer.
i was told that in the next three weeks, i would start
a five-day-a-week radiation and one-day-a-week chemotherapy schedule
for six weeks.

all i could do was look at my three-year old son and cry.
or lower myself to the floor, on all fours,
have a monumental freak-out-panic-attack,
and try to catch my breath and pull myself together.
don't let the boy see you cry.

today? i am told that in a week and a half, i will have a radical hysterectomy.
no radiation.
no chemo.
for now.
(and for this, i would like to
thank everyone for their prayers.)
(no. really.)
(i mean it.)
(because before this, i was a bit skeptical.)
(but this has been an enlightening journey, so far.)

deep breath.
buck up, sister. you can do this.

my mom said that if i can have a ten pound baby
with no drugs,
then i can do this.
and you know what?
she is right.

clarity

...breathe deeply and slowly
and live in the moment because
not one of us has been guaranteed more than that.
-written to me by my wise friend, susan.

breathing out

the waiting is the hardest part.
the whole time, imagining the cancer slowly taking over,
winding its way around and though,
eating away at my health. not considering that
i am a mama
i am a wife
i am a teacher
i want to live until i am 89.

written in an email 8/25/10:

yesterday, when i met with my chemotherapist for the first time, she had my PET scan in front of her. she introduced herself to me, sat down, and said, "i have good news. the cancer has not spread to your lymph nodes or any of your organs."
i almost fell off of my chair!
since this whole journey started, i have braced myself for the worst. and today, when i met with my oncologist, i learned that i will be ok. i do have a long road ahead...but, in the end, i will still be breathing and here to watch my son grow and enjoy my family.
my oncologist, dr. abbas, had a colleague of his from hopkins examine me this afternoon. they are concerned about the type of cancer that i have, so they are presenting my case to two different boards to make sure they have covered everything. then, next week, we will discuss my treatment. (surgery/chemo/radiation).
the choices are not fun, but i will do whatever it takes...
they both said that i will be ok...that i will get through this. it will be work, but i can do it.

i will live.

and honestly, a week ago? i wasn't too sure about that.

so, please. be good to one another. don't take your days for granted. slow down and soak it all in. because it really is a luxury to enjoy this thing called life.

i love you all. and thank you for your prayers and good energy. i think the outcome has proven that it works.

read all about it

blog about it, said my mother.
write about it,my brother advised. that way, you can keep everyone updated and you won't have to repeat yourself to exhaustion.
share your story, my aunt suggested. maybe you can help others going through the same thing.

so here goes. here is the first email that i sent out.
the first what-the-hell-is-she-saying to those i love.
written between panic attacks on the bedroom floor and
"you can fight this" encouragement from my mother.
trying to stay positive while waiting for the other shoe to drop.
seriously considering the process of wrapping things up and wondering why
i don't have a bucket list.

8/19/2010
the next few weeks are going to be a bit crazy. i don't want to alarm you, but i am in the middle of a health-thing. i will know more on wednesday after i have had a PET scan and my doctor can look at it. bottom line: i have cervical cancer. and they are not sure what stage it is...or how much it has spread. usually cervical cancer is slow to spread, which is why people don't worry too much when they are diagnosed. but i have a rare, aggressive cervical cancer that is fast moving. (yay, me!) you know...i always have to be different. sigh...
so. by the end of next week, i will either be getting the hysterectomy/chemo/radiation combo package...or the simpler chemo/radiation deal. we'll see.

i hate sending this in an email. but i am just so tired of talking about it...repeating the same story over and over while i cry and then worry about how the person i just told is doing. you are all my "people". and right now, i need the strength of you all. what i really want to do is just curl around my boy and be normal.

i will be ok. i have to be. i feel that there is no other option, really.

i love you all. please pray for me, send healing thoughts, goodness and whatever else you can muster.

kathleen