Day 107 - what age do you feel

Last night at the gym a young gal came up to me and said, " I used to have that haircut too".

For a second I thought she didn't quite understand why I had a bald head.  And then she asked, "are you undergoing treatment?".

This was the first time a perfect stranger came up to me and dove right in to cancer talk.  She was a year out, and the three things I noticed about here were:

1.  Her boobs looked really good.
2.  Her hair looked really good.
3.  She was dripping sweat from the gym

All of which made me very happy.  I asked her if she still thought about cancer.  And she said only when she see's other people who are going through it, otherwise it is a distant memory.

On the way home from the gym I was telling the kids it was a privledge to grow old.  Graham said age is just a number, and then he asked me how old I feel.

I said, "most days I feel like I am 25".

Graham said, "I feel like I am 4"

Harper said, "I feel like I am a teenager!"

I think Heal and Deal is going to take on a whole new meaning for me soon.

d

Day - 105 - "it is a privlage to get old"

Frank - of "heal and deal" fame reminded me of that fact yesterday.  I made some offhanded remark about feeling old, and BAM he knocked me back to reality.

After the week we had together, you would think I would not have needed the reminder.  But alas every ship needs to be righted every once in a while.

I can't quite figure out how Frank landed in our lives.  The moment I met him I felt like he was a part of my family.  I immediately connected to his mission, and started doing some work for CHAP.

In the last 105 days I have felt an even bigger connection. 

This week got even deeper. 

With one phone call Frank brought his magic to a friend in deep crisis.  He brought his bag of tricks and his compassion up to the hill, and calmed a family in their darkest hour.

Yesterday we got started on healing and dealing.  Barely scratched the surface I am sure, but I did see a few smiles, heard some beautiful stories, and shed some tears.

There is no explanation, no way to try and find a logical reason for any of this to have happened. 

I am just forever thankful that we had Frank to help guide us off the hill and back to reality.

Day 103 - Wall Sit

I slipped away for dinner with two of my Oregon Volleyball Bossies last night.  I think together we are like 18 feel tall - and with one of us bald we made quite a fearsome threesome.

We shared crazy medical stories, our children's triumphs, a few tears, but much, much more laughter.  It was a beautiful night, full of reminders of how great life is.

Today was chemo # 8 - we are in the middle place, mile 18, no where to go but forward.  I have been anticipating this day for a long time.  Really since I was first given the 16 rounds of treatment prescription.

I am the type of person who when faced with any difficult physical tasks wants to 1.  prove to myself I can do it and 2.   get it done as quickly as possible.

Last summer when I walked into the gym my trainer told me he was going to do his leg workout after training me. 

I said, "lets do it together".  To which he replied, "no woman could ever get through my leg work out"

Well it was on after that.

Let me add right here that he was an all-american wrestler, probably the most determined athlete group around, and I was about 20 years older.

Of coarse I made it through.  It was 45 minutes of pure torture from start to finish.  The last "exercise" was a wall sit.  A minute into it I turned to him and said, "we are doing this until one of us drops aren't we?"

He just nodded.

I won't tell you who fell first.  All I will say is that I proved my point.

And couldn't walk for about a week.

Day 102 -"i'd much rather live a short happy life, than a long miserable one."

kayla emiko campos

July 31, 1999-August 4, 2011



We are going to leave Kayla here tonight - as she left us today.  The last thing I want you all to remember is how remarkable Kayla was in her final moments.

Kayla was passionate about recycling - and in that vein her family is making Kayla one of the ultimate recyclers by donating her organs.

Bossier than cancer is about facing your diagnosis head on, taking charge of your life, and finding humor in the chaos. 

We will get back to that tomorrow.  I promise.

For tonight I want to simply say goodnight to Kayla.

Day - 101 - a two parter

Part 1.  Harper-

Last night as I was tucking Harper into bed - her busy day (zoo camp + playdate) was starting to get the better of her.  She kept trying to get more out of me, and I was spent.

Finally I just told her to go to bed, and went and started a bubble bath for myself.  A few minutes later I could hear Doug in her room, trying to calm her down.

Through her tears she kept saying, "Mama is just too Bossy.  She is Bossier than cancer.  Mama just bosses me around at night"

Which is all true.  I am all of those things. 

And so is Harper - which I will be happy about, in probably 25 years.
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Part 2.  Kayla update

As I type this tonight, young Kayla is on life support up at Dorenbechers, surrounded by her friends and family.  She has had several neurological tests today, the results of which are showing no signs of life in her brain.

There will be a few more test later this evening, and then decisions will be made, next steps taken. 

Much like I have experienced the last 101 days, I believe that Kayla, her mom Allison, little sister Maile, grandmother Mae, and uncle Bryan are seeing, feeling, and hearing support that they never could imagine existed.

In times of tragedy I believe we all show our true colors.  Some of us want to get to work, helping in any task we can.  Others want to sit and nurture.  Many pray.

But we come together, our tribes, and we circle around, and we do what we can. 

Tonight I am not sure what we can do except be thankful for our friends and our our families, and know that if this, any of this, were to happen to you, that your tribe would find you, lift you up, and carry you to wherever you needed to go.

Day 100 - Kayla

"We always have a big celebration for the 100th day of school...so tomorrow celebrate the 100 day that are behind you...eat 100 Lemonheads...give 100 smiles to those around you, let Harper eat a hundred ice cream cones ....I send you hundred hugs!" - Mom

As much as I would love to write a witty post about my amazing 100 days, today is not one of those days.

My oldest friend, Allison Krause is right now up at Dorenbecher's Children's Hospital with her daughter Kayla - who was hit by a car this afternoon.

As I write this Kayla is fighting for her 12 year old life. 

So far all of your prayers, meditations, good wishes, and thoughts for me have worked wonders.  Tonight I simply ask that you shift all of your energy towards Kayla.

Kayla was with me the night we cut off all my hair. 

I want her with us as we celebrate its growing back.

d

Day 99 - A look back

I have been thinking a lot lately about that bleak first week of my diagnosis.  The days when we did not know what we were facing, when Doug and I literally holed up in our bedroom, terrified.

The turning point came in a single, long day.  A Thursday.  From a nurse, who I believed.

It started with another test.  This time to take a biopsy of my lymph nodes in order to confirm or deny cancers spread there.

At that point I had spent a lot of time with the same group of people.  The nurse who performed my initial mammogram, the Dr. who did the biopsy on my breast.  Let's just say I would love to play poker with each and every one of them, they sort of gave away their hands, (mine actually), each time we met.

But when asked by me to tell it to me straight, they went mute. 

And then finally.  A nurse named Susan.  She took pity on me.  She snuck my chart into a small room, and read it to me, and translated what it said. 
Two things stuck with me.

1.  "This is not a death sentence".
2.  "Someday you will wake up, and cancer will not be the first thing you think about.  I promise".

And then, like so many after her, she told me her story.  She had been a 40 year old mother of two when she received the same diagnosis. 

These are the small graces you receive in cancerland. 

And they happen to me every day.