#545 A Grumpy Old Bear

Yep, this looks like me.

Some days when I feel like a million bucks it is as if I am back to my old self again.  I crack jokes, smile at the world and jump up and down screaming, "I'm alive, you *&^% cancer cells so back off."  Those are the good days that I embrace and cherish

 because...

When the bad days pop up I feel my eyes crossing and my ornery cantankerous personality surface with a vengeance and watch out to anyone in my path.  I snap at poor Rob (he's learned to stay clear) or criticize my dear friends when all they want to do is help.  It's as if I can't help myself.  I am one gigantic bitch and I want everyone else to feel as miserable as I do.

And I hate it when I'm like that.  That is not me--not the me I remember before cancer.  Yes, I might have had my moments (don't we all?) but nothing, absolutely nothing like what I do now on a bad day.

Anything can trigger those mean son of bitches days--lack of sleep, sore bones, another mets sister dying--you name it the fury will rise out of nowhere and I am ready to knock anyone or anything to the moon and back.

How do I combat this need to slice and dice my good friends or my beloved husband?  Meditation in the morning seems to improve my sour mood for a short time.  Catching myself before I say something hurtful has proven to rid those ugly words on the tip of my tongue when I feel need to spew venom at anyone near me. Exercise can be two fold--either it's that winning sense --I'm on top of my game-- or a depressed --can't do what I used to do and I'm going to hurt someone today--feeling. My goal is to have at least a few good friends left and my loving husband by my side before I kick the bucket, but at times it feels like it might be a wash as everyone will begin to desert this foul mouthed cancer riddled woman before she can make amends.  Let's hope this won't be the case.

Enough!  Tomorrow will be what it will be and if I can stay on top of the pain and the mood swings I might be pleasant enough to either make peace with those loyal friends or at least apologize
in advance for this cranky old hibernating bear.

Love to all (must be a good day for me).

Thanks for reading #545 of 7777.

#544 The Keister Kicker

 Daily Mail--Wish this was me kicking the keister!

On a cold January day six years ago I heard those fateful words, "You have cancer". It's mystifying how our minds work because I vividly remember exactly where I was and who was with me but have little recollection of what was said after hearing the confirmation I was dreading.  Those three little words profoundly changed my life and the lives of my beloved family from that day onward.

Little did I realize it was only the very beginning of a life long relationship with this disease but at the time I was devastated, angry and felt completely out of control.  How could this happen?  Wasn't I a model of good health being physically active and eating right as I prepared for the next phase of life attempting to be on the top of my game?  Cancer, I later found out, does not care what shape or size you are in or if you have eaten kale every day of your adult life.  It is often a random occurrence that stuns its recipients and attempts to knock them off their keister.  And knock me it did.

I eventually learned the nitty gritty details about the diagnosis and discovered that it was a small (the medical team's words) 3 cm tumor which was surgically removed, afterwards the breast was zapped with chemo for six months followed by six weeks of radiation.  It ended up to be an exhausting nine months of terror but when the final rays blasted through my body I was done--a survivor of this ungodly year from hell.

Recovery from the onslaught took more time than I had anticipated but I was thrilled to be able to run a race shortly after the last radiation treatment and began preparing for a triathlon the following June.  I was on a roll and felt cancer was just a blip in the radar of life that was finally over.  Unfortunately my celebration was a short lived "cancer free" existence as twenty months later my oncologist carefully explained what happens next because those nasty cancer cells had metastasized.  Another kick in the old keister but this time it felt like more of a stomp.

Back to this "anniversary" of sorts. On January 6th I will not celebrate my six year cancer diagnosis.  It is the antithesis of a beautiful memory so will simply nod as the day flows by and remember how this gut wrenching disease has not gotten the best of me yet.  I will never be a survivor but I am a thriver and every day I get up, see the sunshine, the clouds or whatever is outside my window and think, "I am not dead yet so turn around you #*$#* cancer because I am kicking your keister as hard  as I can...of course with a little help from my friends. "

To be a keister kicking helper, please donate to UW Carbone Cancer Center.

Thanks for reading # 544 of 7777.

#543 Top Ten Reasons

My #1 reason to keep on keeping on

Tis the season upon us to get our rear in gear for the big year end tax write off.  If you have plans to donate some of your hard-earned cash and want to make sure it goes to a good and worthwhile cause, may I suggest you peruse my ten best reasons where it should be given?

Top Ten Reasons to Give

10. The UW Carbone Cancer Center UW Carbone Cancer Center is one of the leading breast cancer centers in the country.

9.  Drs. O'Regan, Wisinski, Burkard (all are from UW) are three of the brightest and the best researchers around and dedicated to their profession.

8.  Metastatic breast cancer receives less than 7% of all research money except in the More for Stage    IV fund at UW where 100% is given directly to the researchers.

7.  113 will die today because a cure has not been found.

6.  It takes money to keep talented researchers in the field.

5.  Not one more person should have to hear the words, "You have a terminal disease."

4.  Research is our best hope.

3.  Our mothers, daughters, aunts, nieces, men in our lives and friends deserve better.

2.  Maggie, Heather, Mindi, Shannon, Beth... and the rest of the 120,000 who have died since my diagnosis must be remembered as we work towards a future for those of us still living.

And the number one reason why we (Rob and I) are constantly working on raising funds for the UW Carbone Cancer Center:

1.  More time with my precious and beautiful daughter and granddaughter and making sure their future is bright and cancer free.

Thank you for your donation to this worthwhile organization UW Carbone Cancer Center .  Because cancer does not discriminate in race, religion, gender or social status; the life you save may someday be your own or a loved one.

Thanks for reading # 543 of 7777.

#542 Texas, Tummy and Stars--What???

No, I have not taken a brief vacation to some exotic place, however, it does sound tempting right now. Alas, my absence has been due to a gurgling stomach(actually much more graphic than that but I will spare you the details) and a love/hate relationship with the bathroom's white porcelain buddha  during the wee hours of the morning before we were to leave for Texas.  At one point I came to the realization that I would not be on the flight that day to the San Antonio Breast Symposium--largest in the world--no matter how much I was wishing away my rocking and rolling gut.

 This is the second year I've had to abort the mission of going and, to say I was miffed, mad, pissed, furious, incensed, etc. etc. etc. (you get the idea), is an understatement.  My plan was to meet many of the metsters attending to form an alliance when approaching the researchers so they would understand our needs and requests to put us as a priority on research.  I also wanted to learn about the types of treatments on the horizon that may potentially save our lives.

While in a foggy stupor, due to the horrible early morning stages of movement...(TMI), I encouraged Rob to go without me--I would be fine.  I will admit I wasn't fine for a few days but with a little help from my friends I slowly recovered from this nasty stomach virus. While Rob was at the convention, he soaked up all he could to share with me even though his tummy was in a bit of a twist as well.

With plenty of time on my hands I was able to view the video from the pharmaceutical company, Novartis, who had filmed us in our home last spring.  We are our own worst critics so I cringed at my part but the dog and cat come across as shining stars.  Go to Afinitor Stories if you care to see both hubs and me in action...along with the dog and cat.

This is also the time of the year to get your tax deductions so go to UW Carbone Cancer Center and donate this month.  All donations go directly to research so your money will make a difference of making MBC a priority.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart (and gurgling tummy).

Thanks for reading #542 of 7777.

#541 Turkey and The Best of the Trimmings

Thanksgiving 2017 is in the official books as one of the best!  All three of our offspring plus our favorite daughter-in-law and son-in-law and son's girlfriend arrived safely throughout the week with constant celebrations as they slowly appeared at the door .  The much anticipated and beloved granddaughter also made her entrance with her mama and daddy and, if you are a grandparent, you have experienced the feeling of a "grandparent love fest".   Thank goodness my children know they have also been well loved so they didn't feel slighted or ignored--too much-- as I oohed and ahhed over this beautiful little girl.

These memories of bowling, hiking, running the Berbee Derby on turkey day, animal watching at the zoo and just hanging out will be cherished for the year but, alas, a few questions frequently pop up if you are living with cancer.  Will I be here next year?  If I am here will I be able to do the things we did or will I be bed ridden?  What if?  How will?  When????

Fortunately life right now is pretty darn rosy and the continuous upward bound roller coaster ride is one I am fully embracing.  To ponder those pesky questions of what may happen is not productive so a mental adjustment is often required to get back on track of "living in the moment" and basking in my stable state. Besides, the most adorable grandchild...ever...needs her grandma around to watch her grow into those big shoes so the "don't worry, be happy, " mantra has been resurrected.

At our last cancer support group at temple our rabbi read an article titled, 9 Thanksgiving Lessons I Learned From Cancer by Mache Seibel, MD.  I highly recommend taking a few moments today and read--in his words--"some things that aren't taught well in medical books".
9 Thanksgiving Lessons I Learned From Cancer .  If you have a loved one with cancer this may give some insight explaining our actions.

The week after Thanksgiving I still treasure the memories and how thankful I am for family and friends.  You also can delight in this wonderful state of thankfulness by supporting me and my 155,000 friends living with MBC with a donation to UW Carbone Cancer Center (More For Stage IV).  We will continually thank you as if our life depended on it... and guess what?  It does.

Thanks for reading #541 of 7777.

#540 Rob Gooze Is Da Man!

Here's to my rock star of a husband!

Since it is Thanksgiving week it seems entirely appropriate to declare my immense gratitude to my  husband who will be receiving the Husband of the Year award in our house.  Warning--it is a bit of a sappy blog but acknowledgement is due to the brilliant go getter and supporter that he is.

Of course he will be embarrassed by this post but I don't care because when it comes to picking a husband, I won the lottery a gazillion times over.  He has shown time after time how you continue to love a person despite obstacles that no one sees when they start out on this adventure of life and marriage.

  After my first diagnosis, instead of panicking and running to the hills,  I saw my beloved husband step up and figure out how we were going to get through a difficult year of chemotherapy, surgeries and radiation.  He insisted on going to every treatment, asking questions and making sure I had everything I needed when I would come home exhausted from the ordeal of the day.  Completing that hell of a year strengthened an already solid relationship and made us appreciate each other and every day more than ever.

One of the many talents of Rob Gooze

That was almost six years ago and now this... this hellish ride of a terminal diagnosis that, when given the news, sent us into each other's arms with fear searing through our bodies. Instead of backing out of our partnership and deciding this was not what he signed up for thirty-nine years ago, this incredible man has dug in for the long haul and has been standing beside me with his fists up taking on cancer as if his life also depended on it... and maybe it does.  He wants me hanging around for a long long time and he proves it with his ferocious tenacity of demanding answers and getting money into the hands of the researchers who can save my life.

By using his skills as a negotiator, logistics guru, schmoozer and all around "get things done" kind of guy, he has helped raise a ton of money (currently we have raised almost $600,000 in three years) and awareness for MBC.  Want a meeting with Paul Ryan?  Check, he arranged it.  Need interviews on television stations to spread the word?  Check, he did it.  Newspapers, magazine articles, you name it broadcasting the word about this disease-- he managed to make it happen. Design a webpage when it is not his expertise--no problem, got it done--www.onewomanmanylakes.org. One day he decided a brochure should be available to others so he convinced some marketing experts to advise him on how to do it and... Voila!  it resulted in a creative and impressive handout to get people involved.

Right now he thinks he is doing this for me--to keep me from succumbing to this wretched disease-- but I look at the bigger picture and see he is making a difference so not one more person has to hear those life changing words of, "You have a terminal disease".  That's the kind of guy he is and that's why I love him more each day and am so thankful we are riding in the same buggy together. As we approach the holiday of giving thanks I publicly and loudly send my gratitude to this super hero of mine for not only standing by his woman but whipping up the best omelets...EVER.    Love, love, love this man of mine.

To continue this love fest, please consider a donation to UW Carbone Cancer Center, and we can all be grateful for a Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanks for reading #520 of 7777.

#539 Wheee! It's a Ride

Even on cloudy days, look for the rainbow

Life is full of struggles from health issues to financial woes to something as simple as a dog depositing his...you know what on the freshly cleaned carpet downstairs. Sometimes I find myself totally undone by the simplest action from the dog yet find strength to carry on when life becomes more complicated. Often times, though, a mysterious twitch in my body can signal a full blown catastrophic meltdown. 

Case in point: My every day health can be like a ride on the scariest roller coaster ever built.  When I am flying upwards and feeling good, everything around me is grand--I swim farther, play harder, even cook dinner if Rob lets me in the kitchen.  However, that downward plunge is fast and furious when  an aching hip or back pain raises concern and my panic button goes into full alert.  Cancer does that--it can make a mountain out of a molehill.  

This past fall I had an aching back that wouldn't go away and each step I took I was sure it was the cancer cells growing by leaps and bounds. Thoughts crept into my brain of what's next on this bumpy road I'm traveling. I've passed the three year mark of median survival rates so... is this it--I've exceeded my limit?  These thoughts combined with the death of a well known advocate who seemed to tackle every obstacle with such gusto and determination left me completely unhinged. 

Fortunately for me the news is good.  After the medical scans were completed, it appears my ugly cancer cells are in retreat--not gone and forgotten-- but certainly not expanding into some type of army of doom. I can now BREATHE a sigh of relief and get back into the roller coaster for the next hair raising ride.  With cancer it's a never ending jaunt. 

So what to do with splendid news.  Travel to the Bahamas and grab onto this feeling and hope it lasts a tad longer.  The trip reinforced the phrase, Make Every Day Matter, and we certainly relished that motto by finding a pristine place called Cat Island (No abundance of cats.  Supposedly it was named after a Captain Catt).  

Swimming was magnificent in the bluest waters I’ve ever seen and the sandy beach stretched for a mile in front of our cottage. I seized every opportunity to be floating in that blissful state of suspension. Gliding along with a full view of the ocean floor and not one shark or nibble from a fish the entire time was a mini heaven for me.  Of course an official One Woman Many Lakes swim is now in the record books but it doesn’t describe the splendor of this swim. 

Our fishing adventure was one more of those memorable moments that will be cherished forever.  The three of us--Rob, the guide and I set off on another gorgeous morning to see if we could catch the elusive and speedy bonefish.  After Rob's numerous casting and a no show every time, he decided it was time for me to attempt this challenge of the fish face off.  Two casts later and I hooked the little booger, letting it run for a bit and then Bingo!  got it in the net.  I was thrilled and now poor Rob has to listen to my bragging rights to catching the only fish of the day.  Guess we will have to make a return trip next year so he can redeem his fish throne. 

Thanks for reading #539 of 7777.