Turns out it was cancer.
I woke up from surgery to the news being relayed to me by my Mom. I was in a daze for the next few days as my Mom made calls, kept me hopped up on pain pills, and made arrangements for the first rounds of oncology appointments. My Dad came down later in the week, hopped me up on fried chicken and pizza, and pain pills, and I remember sitting on my back porch realizing the world would never be the same.
And it hasn't been. But, I've kept my glass filled half full and I made lemonade! I beat cancer a little over eight years ago. I never asked "why me," and I never got mad at God or the Universe. I fought hard and won, the first round, at least. I'm not cured, but I'm healthy for now and doing everything I can to make sure that we see a cure for cancer in my lifetime.
One of the ways I'm making a difference is through my involvement with the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. An amazing organization that has led to so many advances in not only blood cancer treatments, but treatments for a wide range of other cancers. Since 2005 I've volunteered my time and raised over $22,000 for LLS. I've been an honored hero for the TNT program, have participated in a full and half marathon through the TNT program, and most recently became involved with the Man & Woman of the Year (MWOY) campaign through committee membership and was the Woman of the Year honored hero for the 2014 campaign. The video below was featured at the grand finale gala held on May 30 and also features Spencer Wade as the Man of the Year honored hero. As part of the campaign, I'll be featured on a billboard in Cincinnati in a few weeks.
This time around is a little different than the last time I fundraised for TNT in 2009; since then I've been a *little* busy getting married and raising two beautiful daughters while working full time, and still finding time for the fun things in life. This time around is also different because I have a new perspective on why it's important to continue to help raise funds and awareness for cancer research and patient support. I celebrated eight years of remission in May, but I'm not cured and my fight with cancer is never far from my mind; but now that I'm a mother and wife, my concern has shifted from simply "what will my treatments look like when / if my cancer returns and will I be able to beat it again?" to "will I be able to fight this horrible disease again while also caring for my family?"
With "free time" at a premium, you may wonder why I've decided to train for a half marathon. Yes, it will be hard to fit 4-5 weekly runs and cross training sessions into my schedule (that's what 5am and 9pm are for, right? seriously, that's when I'm training). Yes, I'm older, my joints have a stiffness about them, I'm less flexible and more jiggly. And, no, I don't plan to set a personal record or be at the top of my age group when results are tallied. Quite simply, I'm running and fundraising because I CAN. There were SO MANY days when I was waging my war against cancer where I had to say "I can't." Because the drugs made my body weak, because I was too sick, because I needed to rest and recover. But not anymore, now that I CAN, I'm running for life! For my own life, for the lives of all that have lost their battle to cancer, for those that are still waging their war against cancer, and for all of the heroes I've met along the way.
I'm proof positive that research leads to results! You can read about the details of how LLS has made my life possible, literally, and how they funded research to fund the advancement of a drug that can be used if/ when my CLL returns: CLICK HERE. I know that times are tight, but you don't have to dig deep to make a difference; $5, $10, $20 will help! And if you can't donate, I'll gladly take words of encouragement as I train for the half marathon.
I don't outwardly celebrate my diagnosis date, there's no reason to, but I do remember the feelings I had on July 4, 2005, and the day after when I heard the news, and the day my oncologist pronounced (during a routine appointment) that I needed to start chemo right away, and the days I was dead tired from chemo, and the days I wanted nothing more than to be healthy again ... and I remember the day I heard that the chemo had worked; and now I'm living the life of someone that's waiting for the cancer to return. I remember how I felt on all of those days. And if I can keep someone from having to feel the pangs of "what if" after hearing the words "you have cancer"; well, then running 13.1 miles and asking shamelessly for donations will all be worth it.
1 comments:
Jen. You are so freaking awesome. I'm so proud of you. Such an inspiration.
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