So many of my friends have moved to products that are clean. That being said, old habits die hard. I still use skin and beauty products that I have used for a large portion of my lifetime.
I am currently spinning. Are the products I am using in my daily life the reason for this cancer growing in my body? I don’t know. I have had multiple doctors try to reassure me this isn’t my fault. It is still hard to think my actions might be to blame.
Sleep is obviously of the utmost importance. Unfortunately, night time is not my strong suit right now. Some nights I can’t sleep because I’m worried and scared about this process. How will it affect my family? Will I be okay? What is the answer if I’m not going to make it? I’m a positive person as I’ve said before, but night can be hard and all these thoughts creep in.
I am writing this post at 2 AM because apparently sleep is not an option tonight even with the help of medication prescribed by my doctor. And that’s okay. I never thought a blog would be important to me, but this feels therapeutic. It allows me to express and share with those that are part of my circle how I feel and what I am experiencing.
I am still struggling with deciding how I can let people help. So many have reached out to me and even more people reached out to some of my closest friends and family members asking what we want and need to make the days ahead easier. I feel like I’ve actually cried more about understanding the overwhelming amount of support coming in from people from every aspect and crevice of my life than I have about my actual diagnosis. The diagnosis and the movement forward all still feels like science. I’m collecting evidence, I have a hypothesis, and now I am just trying to reach an actionable plan that can be put in play very quickly to start the process of healing and ensuring my longevity.
We live a beautiful life in a neighborhood that we love and feel truly supported by the people around us. The outpouring of love from our local community has been overwhelming. That being said, I know there are people that are part of our life and history that want to help and keep reaching out asking what we need and what they can do. We keep saying nothing except love us, send us positive vibes, pray for us. Do whatever feels good to you to help ensure a positive outcome for both me and my family.
We don’t live in an actual “tiny house”, but as a family of five in 1400 ft.² with everyone working from home, it does kind of feel that way at the moment. I do not have private space in my house. Once I make the bed in the morning, I leave my bedroom and that becomes my husband‘s office for the remainder of the day. My two daughters thankfully have bedrooms where they can conduct their virtual school days, and Halle and I spend our time in our living room and kitchen/ dining area that also houses my office. We are doing our best. Is this ideal? Of course not. Do I wish we had more space? Sure, naturally. Do I have any desire to move or leave my community that we have created and has allowed my family to thrive in the Bay Area? Absolutely not! So we make the best of what we’ve got. Using the word “blessed” is not something that is part of my everyday vernacular. While I am spiritual and miss the relationship I had with our church in Texas, we have not found that same home in California. Some days that is hard for me. I miss it deeply. I want it back. I wish I had the same thing here. I have tried a lot to find it locally but been unsuccessful. I also feel like right now I’m at a crossroads. I’m trying to come to terms with how I feel spiritually and how I need to foster that to give me more comfort moving forward. I believe, as always, it will all work out. Clarity will come, and what I need and what works for my family will present itself when the time is right.
The reason you always hear people say things like “fuck cancer” is becasue it comes with a lot of baggage. What did I do to deserve this tumor and diagnosis? It’s hard. There are so many unanswered questions. There are so many decisions being placed upon myself (and Jeremy).
I truly believe we are in the hardest days. As I have said before, I am positive and deeply believe things will be okay but the road ahead will not be easy. One of the oncologists I’ve met with so far told me in no uncertain terms chemo and radiation are in my future. Had I hoped for less invasive procedures? Of course. But do I want to be conservative and allow potential for new cancers to grow in my body? Absolutely not. Aggressive and progressive treatment is my only option. It is the way I am wired. And how I will tackle this diagnosis and the cancer currently growing in my body.
People keep asking me what stage of cancer do you have? Apparently that answer is yet to be determined. When surgery is performed my lymph nodes will also be tested and we have more information about potential spread. These items will be more clear and those answers can be provided. To me, the stage doesn’t matter right now. What matters is moving forward and doing everything in my power to ensure I am afforded the long life I have planned. I love my job, I love my family, I love my friends, some of which are my family now. I love traveling and my journey is not over. So today and tomorrow and sadly for probably more days that I would like to admit - I fight for answers and I fight to ensure I am going to receive the best care. I will make hard decisions that will ensure I create a team of doctors that I believe will do everything it takes to make sure I am a success story.
There obviously a lot of emotions wrapped into this entire process. For me, I had not actually gotten mad until yesterday. Somehow, with all the information that has been provided to me by doctor after doctor and nurses and nurse navigators, no one had mentioned the physical pathology slides are owned by a separate entity and that anyone willing to take on my case must have the option to review for themselves before proceeding. I received a phone call at 4 PM telling me I needed to decide immediately if Stanford or PAMF was going to receive my slides. I haven’t even met with the doctor at Stanford. At PAMF, I have put together a team that so far I truly love and believe in. I even have a tentative surgery date 2.26 and that is great. As I’ve said in previous posts, the one item that remains constant in every doctor that has reviewed my chart is this must come out fast. I don’t even know if 2.26 is quick enough. I am so excited and eager to meet with the team from Stanford this coming Tuesday, but I am worried if they can even move fast enough to make my surgery happen in a timely fashion. That is yet to be determined. Will I hear something new? Will I be given information that makes this decision process difficult? I don’t know. What I need to do now is create a framework so that I can quickly make that decision once these appointments have taken place. It is scary and I worry about how I will keep the emotional aspect out as I try to make what feels like the biggest decision of my life this coming week. There’s some answers that might make this easy and some that might make it hard. I’m trying to be prepared for both.
We never feel like we have enough time as we grow older. Everything moves too fast. Our children grow up too fast. Our parents get old too fast. Life flies by. This is nothing different. Everything feels like it is moving exponentially fast. Some days feel like a week. The idea that my diagnosis came less than two weeks ago is mind blowing.
It’s kind of hysterical, it seems impossible, but yet it is the truth. It is my truth and so for now one foot in front of another. We move forward; we make decisions; we decide the next step. So for now I will attempt to sleep. Sadly that means taking another Xanax and hoping for the best.