July... This month brings up so many feelings...
July 4th, 2008... we told our families that we would be parents. Unbeknownst to us, we ended up having two weeks to prepare. Most parents get more time. We had a car seat and pack in play (still in the box), random bottles and pacifiers. Trust me, not much else. We had a room painted in "viking blue," and hope. Hope and faith in a young girl. Hope that she would follow through with her adoption plan. We did not want anything, just in case the birth mother wanted to parent. Those were our early concerns of July 2008.
2015...
Sitting, near an acquaintance at Coney Island, asking her, "What was up with the hospital picture I saw on Facebook?" She, much younger than I, explained, it was breast cancer. A weird spot on her nipple, that eventually lead her to a double mastectomy. She had (has) 4 little girls. I thought, shit. I'm almost 40 and 1/2 better get that mammogram.
2018...
Healthy. Standing in our garage. I took a minute to fix the fan out here, to have one last beer and watch Hawaii Five-O. It's my current Netflix binge. Jeff and I love Hawaii. I'm a geek and dream of the next time we can go, with our kids. It gets hot out here in the garage. No one is out here, and everyone is asleep. I take off my t-shirt and let the air from the fan run over me. Cooling me off. I look at my foobs, all puckered and imperfect. Toning my pecs has hurt my odds of nice looking "boobs." Hence, they are "foobs," my fake breasts.
I recall getting that mammogram. I recall, being asked to go for a more diagnostic mammogram. Jeff asked, "Should I come with you?" Me, "Nah." As my Uncle said, I come from the family of heart disease, dementia, Parkinson's, skin cancer... we are not the breast cancer family, so no... no need. I went alone.
After the mammogram, the radiologist called me back. He asked, "Do you have someone with you?" "No," was my response. It was abnormal. The diagnostic mammogram...abnormal. I was then set up with a biopsy. No ultrasound, right to biopsy. Of course, I played it cool with my husband. "Painless," they say; "No big deal," they say... It hurt, it sucked. I went back to coaching Cheer camp that day.
"You need an MRI." "OK," I say. Again, Jeff asking if he should come. "Nah, MRI is a piece of cake." That is until it's an MRI with contrast. They can find that "funny spot" and the "marker" placed in my by biopsy.
No marker found, more than 1 funny spot found. Crap. Yet, I did not know.
August 13th- my daughter turned 6. We spend the day at Coney Island... Waiting... for the call....
August 14th, at Target with my new 6 year old daughter. I was looking for pineapple tid-bids. They had crushed, and cut. No tid-bits. My phone rings. A strange number, a doctor, who I have never met states,"You have cancer."
With a newly 6 year old in your cart, in Target, you cannot wig out. Maybe you can, but I knew I could not. I finished my call, and went to check out. I tried to be calm. I tried not to vomit. I tried to be a regular Mom. Yet, I was now a Mom with cancer.
On the way home... my thoughts, they went right to Jeff and the kids. How do you say, "I have cancer." You've just done the Flying Pig 3 way. You run, you are active, you stopped socially smoking 7 years ago. Cancer. WTF.
Somehow, I get Jeff in the garage. I ask for a cigarette. If my cells are gonna mutate and fuck with me, I'm playing that game. I explain to him....cancer....we need to see a doctor.
With that our world changed from, "What's for dinner?" to "Holy shit, what are we going to do?"
What did I do? I took a shower. In that shower, I prayed, and plead to God. " Dear God, I can deal with Cancer, and the treatment. Just, please, please, Dear Lord, don't let this cancer take me from my kids in 6 months. Let me fight. Let me see them grow up and get married."
Almost, 3 years ago, I prayed that prayer.
Yet, today, I have stayed up too late. I have a 6am yoga class I will miss... But, I needed time to reflect. Time to myself, to see how far I have come. I still have 8 years of medicine to help me fight my mutant cells, who knows how many years of medicine to counter act that medicine. But, I am here. Standing in the garage. Letting the air cover me, and watching Hawaii Five-O. The journey has been strange, yet paved with beautiful people. I hope to have the longevity of seeing my children marry, seeing my 401K mature, seeing me grow old with my J.
I'm unsure I will be blessed to experience all that. I pray I will. I am not the best daughter of God, or the healthiest of folks. But, I hope, being me, in the darkest of hours, and in the light of day is enough. Enough to see my children grow into adults, and to ensure my husband is loving retirement before I have to leave this Earth.
Please schedule your mammogram.
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Side note from Jeff...
We all love you. From J,Cand C please stop dwelling on death and keep focusing on the future. We have lots of time to spend together sunny beaches and fun times. You are a great mom and a great wife. Most of all you are a fighter. Many more days of notes on your coffee pot.
we all love you to the moon and back
