This is how I survive

I know it has been quite awhile since I blogged-a whole season has passed! Summer was busy and all too short. We didn't go on any vacations, but the kids kept me busy with all of their activities. I took advantage of the longer days to really get into my triathlon training. After that disaster at the Encinitas race last May (described in my last post, "Live to Race Another Day"),  I had a bit of anxiety about open water swimming, particularly surf entries. I took advantage of the San Diego Tri Club's standing biweekly workouts on Tuesday and Thursday mornings here in North County. Lots of practice going in and out of the water. I was really blessed by a few of the other members who took the time to really teach me about surf entries, even to the detriment of their own workouts!

In July, I successfully completed my first triathlon. It was a sprint distance course: 1k swim (ocean entry), 20k bike, 5k run. I did the race with a fellow breast cancer survivor, so it was really cool for us to do it together and stick it to cancer in that way!

Nancy and I show off our body markings in July

I had decided early in the year that my goal distance for triathlon was going to be the Olympic distance. Sprints were a bit short, and Ironman or even half Ironman distances were nuts. (Although the more I do this, the more I wish I could do those longer courses!)  An Olympic distance race is typically 1,500 meter swim, 40k bike and a 10k run. So that was my goal for the year.

Earlier in the year, I signed up for an Olympic distance race, the San Diego Tri Classic.  My training going into the race was pretty good. My goals were to do the swim in about 40 minutes, 90 minutes for the bike, and maintain a 10 minute mile pace on the run.

That race was today.

I got to the transition area at around 4:45 a.m. Yikes! Early, isn't it? I woke up at 3:15 a.m. to get there in plenty of time. On my way to the racks, there was a guy doing athlete body marking. I figured I might as well get it done first, so I showed him my bib number so he could get to work.  They typically mark your biceps, quadriceps, and put your age on your calf. He went to mark my left bicep, but saw my compression sleeve.  "You can't mark that." I said. I suggested he do my shoulder instead where there were a few inches of skin between my singlet and compression sleeve. A girl was standing there in line and said to me, "You're a breast cancer survivor."  I looked at her and said, "Yes. Yes, I am." She was really nice and congratulated me.

I racked my bike and made small talk with another woman in my age group who was competing.

At 6:00 a.m., they let us get into the water for a warm up before they started sending the waves out at 6:15 a.m.  My wave was scheduled for 6:27 a.m.  It had been a few weeks since I had done any open water swimming and the wetsuit made me feel really buoyant.

The swim leg was okay, although it is kind of hard to swim with hundreds of other people in the water. There were moments where I got kicked, swam over, splashed in the face while trying to breathe, but these are all parts of the sport. I was happy to have the swim over with so I could get to the bike.

The bike course was a challenge-pretty hilly. But I live around hills, so I managed it okay. I felt bad for those competitors that I saw on the side of the road with mechanical issues. I'd be hard pressed to fix a flat, although I could with time. But one guy had a more serious problem and ended up pushing his bike 6 miles at the end!

The run was the tough part. I had done a training session with a 40k bike and 10k run. But it was really hot and humid today. I ended up having to do a fair bit of walking. After 4 miles, I decided to do an "empowered walk." Rather than see it as a defeat, I started to walk as fast as I could, swinging my arms and feeling like I was racing with it. As I did, I started to gain on one lady who was ahead of me, doing a slow jog. As I got closer, I saw from her calf that she was in my age group. I decided that MY race today was going to be to beat that particular woman so my name would be above hers in our Female 40-44 standings. I kept up the walk, and then picked up a run here and there, making sure that once I passed her she did not pass me back. A lot of people were walking-it was pretty hot. Even young, fit looking people were walking. I saved some mojo for the last .2 miles so I was able to run it in across the finish line.

My official time was 3:22:41. I pretty much met my swim and bike goals. My swim was 35:08, bike was 1:30:58. The run faltered a bit, and I came in at 1:09:47, an 11 minute mile. But whatever. I did it!!

My post-race included a lot of water, some orange wedges, 1/8 of a bagel and more water. I got a free massage from some physical therapists that were there. That was awesome.  Then I made my way over to the beer garden. Yes, the popular races feature a complimentary beer garden for competitors. I got myself a cold one (Stone IPA) and made my way over to the stands to watch the other racers who were still finishing the course.

A girl struck up a conversation with me while we were sitting there. This was her first triathlon, her boyfriend had done a few Ironman's and that is how she got into the sport. Then she asked me what got me started doing triathlon.

Hm.  Why indeed? Why did I start racing at all? Not just tri, but half marathons?  Why AM I doing this? It can be physically painful, time consuming and expensive.  I told her that it seemed like something really hard to do. Then I confessed...that a few years ago I was going through treatment for breast cancer. Of course, when you say that you usually get a shocked expression. But it is true-pushing the bar to the next "hard thing" is how I survive. It is how I move on, making a new kind of life. Leaving cancer behind, pushing my body that has been cut, poisoned and burned beyond anything that I ever thought it was capable of doing.  This is how I survive. Strongly. Always looking to the next thing to tackle. By the grace of God, this is how I survive.

This was all confirmed for me while I was driving home. I was listening to a local pop station which usually plays contemporary songs. Then they played Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive." Woah!  They always play that song at the end of closing ceremonies at the Susan G. Komen 3 Day. It's quite an emotional moment, because you are physically tired and you are there celebrating with hundreds of other survivors. It really is something. Well, today, I celebrated by myself on Interstate 5! I cranked up the volume and sang at the top of my lungs with tears running down my cheeks. Yep. I will survive.

And this is how I do it.

Notable day

We learn really early on what dates are important to us. As kids, we live for that one special day that is "our" day...our birthday! Even Jean-Marc has been talking a lot lately in his cute little voice about "Joo-lye" and how he will be "free."  (Translation-he will be three in July).  It's cute.  As we get older, other dates become important to us: our wedding anniversary; children's birthdays; etc. 

Today I observe a new notable date in my life.  It was one year ago today (June 11) that I was informed of my diagnosis with breast cancer. It's my "cancerversary."  This year, I don't feel like celebrating, although in a way I suppose I celebrate the fact that I am still around. I'm a survivor, right?  

More than anything else, it has made me reflect on those early days.  I had my biopsy on a Monday morning and had to wait until Friday midday to get "the call."  I'm a telephone note taker. Having practiced family law for several years and getting calls from clients, I'm in the habit of taking notes while someone is talking to me on the phone. In practice, I would usually use those notes to draft declarations or other court documents. Last June 11th, as the Kaiser breast cancer nurse "Judy" told me the bad news, I just started writing down words I was hearing. It didn't all make sense, I could figure it out later. But I got the point. I had breast cancer, I would need surgery and chemo, I would lose my  hair. 

I still remember what I was wearing that day. I hung up the phone and looked at Eric, who was in the room with me. "It's not good news," I told him. He let out a strange mix of a gasp, scream and cry and rushed over to give me a hug. I didn't cry, though.  I had gone into steely-eyed survival mode. I didn't even welcome the hug. In fact, I may have even pushed him away a little.  I tried calling my mom, but she wasn't home.  I went upstairs and did what I had planned to do all day--my Jillian Michael's level 3 circuit workout. If you've seen Jillian on "The Biggest Loser" you have seen her train contestants to a point of exhaustion to where they can break through emotionally and process stuff.  I kind of got to that point by the end and let myself cry as I was stretching out.  But that wasn't going to do me any good, so it didn't last long. 

I came back down and called my mom.  This time, she answered. I don't remember much about that call, except that I really fought the tears then. I could only imagine how difficult it would be to hear that your child was facing something like cancer. I felt guilty to be bringing on such bad news to the family. Hearing the effect it had on her through her voice was really hard. We were in for some challenges, for sure. 

The day went on as usual, except that I now felt alien. I went to pick up the kids from school. The parents  were all there, as usual, making small talk and chit chat. I usually enjoy these moments of interaction with others. One friend had gotten a really short haircut that day and there was a lot of comment on that. I just stood there, smiling on the outside, but inside my head screaming......"I've got cancer! Nothing is going to be the same again!"  It isn't the kind of information bomb you drop with just a few minutes to explain, so I just kept it to myself. I was glad when the bell rang and the kids came out and I could get out of there. 

That night, I made a recipe from my Jillian Michael's cookbook. It was a meatless dish, so I was prepared for a little bit of complaint from the kids. Especially since I used whole wheat pasta rather than white. I ticked down the list of health benefits of the dish that were listed in the recipe. One of them was "anti-cancer." After I said that, Olivier objected, "No one here has cancer!"  Eric and I just looked at each other.  At some point very soon, we were going to have to tell them. We ended up doing that the next day.  

So much has happened since June 11th last year.  The agonizing wait for surgery. The surgery itself. Those awful drains oozing fluid that we had to measure and dump. Having to sleep on my back for months with multiple pillows propping me up. Painkillers and the constipation they caused. Oh my. That was one of the worst mornings of my life! I learned a big lesson--just take the colace!  I thought a high fiber diet was enough, but it wasn't. Then came chemo and the hair loss. The worst part of chemo for me was what it did to me mentally. I just wasn't myself. It really played with my hormones and moods. It played with it so much that I haven't had a menstrual cycle since September. I probably won't have one again. 

sporting my bandaging

In between chemo and radiation, my lymphedema flared up. In a way, the timing was perfect.  Getting it under control meant multiple visits to the physical therapist each week. Luckily, it was December, and I had more than paid my large deductible for the year. I also was able to learn the bandaging and perfect the massage before radiation would start.  Another notable date for me is December 3rd, which was my last chemo infusion. 

After chemo, radiation was pretty easy up until the last 10 days or so. Just going over to Escondido every day was a hassle. But the treatment itself was fast. It's funny to look at my chest now-that radiated side has a strange tan patch that the other side does not.  Fortunately, my lymphedema stayed under control during the radiation treatments. 

I'm lucky to have a breast cancer that is hormone receptor positive. That means I can treat it with Tamoxifen. The drug basically binds to the estrogen receptors on the cells to prevent cancer from growing. I don't like being on medication for a long period of time, but am glad to be able to take something that has shown to prevent the chances of recurrence.  

As my recent posts have shown, I'm also considering my diet and exercise as a type of continuing treatment. Working out is no longer an option for me. Exercise has shown to reduce cancer in many ways, in addition to the other benefits of being in shape. 

It has been a long year in many ways. But when I tick down the list of everything I've gone through, I'm amazed that I was able to get it all done in less than a year. What a year. I re-read this post and in many ways am still in shock that I am talking about ME, and not someone else. 

I'm not sure how I feel today. I'm thankful to have made it through this far. I give God all the glory for that. He has sustained me, strengthened me, and kept me going each day. He has given me wings like eagles to be able to exercise throughout my treatment.  He has made me feel strong, even when I was in the dark days of chemo-induced psychosis. He has surrounded me with an amazing church family who have prayed for me daily. I've been supported by wonderful friends who brought meals over the summer, and sent many wonderful cards of sympathy and support. I've kept every single one. 

As I go forward, I continue my battle. I struggle with fear of recurrence.  The disease may come back, I know. Having cancer in 5 of 15 lymph nodes is not a good thing. But I can't dwell on that. All I can do is live life every day, making good choices about what I put into my body and what I do with it. I want to praise God from the rooftops and help educate others on how to avoid cancer in the first place.  I know that things really aren't under our control--it all is under God's sovereign hand. He is on the throne, I am not. He allowed me to become part of this "club" of breast cancer warrior-survivors. I pray that I am able to use it for His glory. It may be in His plan that the cancer come back. But I know that He has only the best in mind for me, and even if it kills me, I will ultimately be with Him in heaven for eternity. This life, this body, is just a vapor.  But I would like for it to be as long as possible. 

Here is to many more June 11ths. 

I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for all of your support and prayers over the last year. 

Encounters

I had a really neat encounter today that I don't want to forget.

I had been at the gym earlier in the morning. I was in sweaty gym clothes with a wet bandanna on my head. But we needed to get some groceries and it had been a week or so since I had been to Trader Joe's.  (I can't seem to find one store that has everything I like, so I alternate between TJ's, Jimbo's and Sprouts).  Anyway, I was there with my two year old sidekick, Jean-Marc. We were loaded up.  I had picked out 2 large pumpkins at the beginning, and then the rest of my groceries were piled up around them in the red Trader Joe's carts.

As I cruised up to the checkout stand, I noticed a friend of mine ahead of me pushing her elderly grandmother out the door in a wheelchair. She was just a bit too far away for me to yell out, so I just went ahead to the checkout.  I was glad when she came back for a grocery bag and I was able to say hi.  She was kind of rushed because of her grandmother, which I understood.  But she said she would be back because her grandmother would want to meet me.

I knew already from another encounter with this friend over the summer (that time it was in Target), that her grandmother was a breast cancer survivor.  I seem to recall her saying it was 40 years ago, although my memory could be faulty on that point.  

She brought her grandmother back in, and the lady took my hands and looked me squarely in the eyes and told me how she had been praying for me.  She told me how "life goes on" and that I was going to be okay.  I was blown away.  First of all, that this person who didn't know me at all had been praying for me.  I know that there are many out there who are, but to meet someone "in real life" who is was amazing.  She had been there and knew what I was going through. Not only that, but I can imagine how much more difficult treatment and side effects must have been when she was going through it.  She has to be one tough lady!  She asked me about my treatment, and I told her about having 4 rounds of chemo over with 2 to go.  She asked about my recovery from surgery and if I could move my arm much.  She remembered the broom stretching exercises and I brought up the "wall creep" ones and we chuckled about that.

This gracious lady was a sister in more ways than one.  Not only is she a breast cancer survivor, but she told me a couple times about how good our God was. I told her how He had been helping me through.  I definitely  know that she is a saint and that we are sisters in Christ as well as cancer experience.

I was glad I had so many groceries because we were able to have this conversation while the Trader Joe's guy was ringing me up.  As they left, my friend said how her grandmother had been talking about me recently and that it was good that they saw me.  I'm convinced it was a "God" thing, that she was sent to give me encouragement and blessing.

She certainly did just that.