life really does go on

As of today, I am one year, one month and four days beyond being declared NED (no evidence of disease) for cervical cancer. I know I've said it before, but when I heard the words "You have cancer," my world seemed to stop. And it didn't start moving again for a very long time.

My life was no longer normal. I had a prolonged recovery from mild complications from my radical hysterectomy. I felt completely empty, like I had a huge void inside of me. Nothing made sense. I made poor decisions; trusting the wrong people, and not trusting the right ones. I changed, because that is what cancer does; it makes you a different person. Regardless of the stage you are at, what treatment you undergo, you are no longer the same.

I was in limbo for a long time. And then gradually, things began to change again. My life and I still were no longer the same as before I was diagnosed, but I began to find my new normal. I was no longer in a holding pattern, and my life began to move forward. It was slow at first, and then I woke up one day to the knowledge that I had shown no sign of disease for an entire year.

I have been incredibly lucky. I have four amazing friends, beautiful women both inside and out, who are still in different states with this devastating disease. We are spread out geographically, but talk pretty much every day. Nothing is off limits in these conversations. We laugh, we cry. We celebrate each others successes, and empathize with each others struggles. We joke around. We tell each other our deepest fears. We hold on to each other from hundreds and thousands of miles away. These women are my tribe. Amanda, Jen, Kim and Mel, I could never have made it without you.

I got engaged on Christmas Day to my best friend and the love of my life. My illness almost robbed us of our relationship, but thank god our love is strong enough to have brought us back from the brink, and made us stronger than ever. Jeff, you are my other half in all the best  possible ways. I love our life together. I love that you have brought your two incredible boys into my life, and allowed me to love them. Our family means everything to me. In 18 days, I will marry the man of my dreams, and I am truly blessed.

I have gotten involved with The Foundation for Women's Cancer, and am honored to be a member of the host committee for the 2015 Race to End Women's Cancer. This has given me the opportunity to be very vocal about GYN cancers, to help educate women and men who don't know about things such as symptoms to be wary of, and to be a source of support to friends who find themselves in situations where they could be looking at a cancer diagnosis. By leading a team in the 2015 race, I raise money for the Foundation, which goes towards raising awareness about prevention, detection, and treatment for GYN cancers; providing education about GYN cancers and how important it is to seek care; and supporting research into new, innovate treatment. When I was diagnosed, I realized just how ignorant I was regarding my own body, so I have become incredibly passionate about educating women, to take the steps they need to in order to stay healthy, and to provide support in any way that I am able.

This Saturday, my mother (diagnosed with breast cancer two months before I was diagnosed with cervical cancer) and I are hosting a party in honor of our first cancerversary. It will be a celebration of life, survival, and hope. Cancer left scars on our bodies and our souls, but we are healing. We each fought like a girl and we won. And we will keep on fighting because when you've slain the monster once, you know you have the strength to do it again.

Jennie (L) & KAREN (R)

     

a bittersweet celebration

As you know, I celebrated my first cancerversary on Tuesday. I was completely serious when I said that I thought that day would never get there. And then suddenly, there it was, a whole year had passed from the day my oncologist performed the radical hysterectomy that saved my life.

Obviously, I was elated. I'd hit a major milestone. The longer you go without a recurrence, the greater the chances are that you will remain cancer free. Of course there are no guarantees in life, but the statistics are good.

And now for the bad news. A very dear friend, Melissa, who I've written about before, was hospitalized last Friday. She was in excruciating pain, went to the ER, and wound up getting admitted. As it turned out, she had a partial bowel obstruction, so the doctors wound up doing what was basically an emergency colostomy. And of course, this happened on Tuesday.

How could I be so happy when my dear friend was going through so much? Why is she still suffering, and I'm celebrating? I feel so much guilt, even though that isn't rational. But emotions are not always rational.

As if that weren't enough, I found out yesterday that another friend had a biopsy done to remove precancerous cells from her cervix. She doesn't have the biopsy results yet, and she is scared. I wanted so badly to tell her everything was going to be fine, but I have no way of knowing that. For many women, once the precancerous cells are removed, they are completely fine and clear. But I know too much and have seen too much to do anything other than support her, be empathetic to her fears, and share my own experience with her.

So yes, it's been bittersweet. I'm happy to still be NED, but am so sad for these amazing women and what they are going through. I don't feel like I have the right to be happy.

There is really nothing I can do except to pray for my friends, that they heal, that they live long, happy lives. I would do anything to make that happen.

Traditional Buddhist Blessing and Healing Chant

Just as the soft rains fill the streams,
pour into the rivers and join together in the oceans,
so may the power of every moment of your goodness
flow forth to awaken and heal all beings,
Those here now, those gone before, those yet to come.

By the power of every moment of your goodness
May your heart's wishes be soon fulfilled
as completely shining as the bright full moon,
as magically as by a wish-fulfilling gem.

By the power of every moment of your goodness
May all dangers be averted and all disease be gone.
May no obstacle come across your way.
May you enjoy fulfillment and long life.

For all in whose heart dwells respect,
who follow the wisdom and compassion of the Way,
May your life prosper in the four blessings
of old age, beauty, happiness and strength.

My First Cancerversary!!!!!!

Today is my first cancerversary! On June 16, 2014, I checked into Sibley Memorial Hospital for a radical hysterectomy to rid my body of cervical cancer. The surgery was a success, and I was officially declared NED (no evidence of disease). My recovery was hard: I was in a lot of pain; I developed a hematoma and some blocked lymph nodes, surgical artifacts. One of the hardest things I had to come to terms with was the loss of my fertility. I had no intention of having any more children, but it’s different when it’s a choice you make versus one that is made for you.

I didn’t get through this alone. My oncologist, Dr. Jeffrey Lin, without a doubt saved my life. My mom, Karen, and my fiancé, Jeff, were essential, especially in those first few weeks. My friends & teal sisters were unbelievable. Tealies, thank you for being there at all hours of the day and night to answer all my TMI questions and provide excellent advice, to commiserate, or even just a simple response to let me know that I was not alone. Miriam, thank you for always checking up on me and making me laugh my ass off. Ashley, thank you for teaching me how to be a warrior. I especially need to thank Amanda, Jennifer, Kim and Melissa. Without those four amazing ladies, I never would have made it this far. I am so grateful that we are bonded for life.

I think it goes without saying that I would never ever wished to be diagnosed with cancer. I was terrified for a very long time, and still get nervous even now. But having cancer has taught me a great deal, some good and some bad. I learned how strong my spirit is. I learned how amazing my body is. I learned who my true friends were by who showed up when I needed them, and who didn’t. Most importantly, I learned how much I love myself and how very much my life means to me.

While my fight is (hopefully) over, there are so many of my friends still struggling with this horrible disease, and many more women will face gynecological cancers in their lifetimes. I cannot stress enough how important it is to keep up with your Pap smears, as well as getting tested for HPV. Early detection saved my life, and for that I am forever thankful beyond words.

Love Your Lady Parts - Join the 2015 Race to End Women's Cancer

diagnosis: a retrospective

It's been a little over a year since I was diagnosed with cervical cancer, and I'm reflecting for a few reasons. Obviously, the timing. But then there's my darling friend who is now stage 4, still fighting strong. I've had the pleasure to connect with a young woman just beginning her journey. A lovely friend passed away from this God awful disease a few weeks ago. It's all made me think.

At the beginning of April 2014, I had a routine Pap smear. I was long overdue. I'm not sure what I hate more, the gynecologist or the dentist. Either way, I wasn't keen on going. But I had been having strange symptoms (TMI alert): irregular bleeding, heavy periods, increased and foul smelling discharge. Since I didn't know anything about cervical cancer or it's symptoms, I chalked it all up to normal.

I saw a million doctors. I even had two colonoscopies and an endoscopy. And everything came back normal. So I went for the dreaded Pap smear as a last result.

The Pap went fine, or at least as fine as those things go. My gynecologist didn't say anything of any significance, and I went on my merry way.

The following week, I started getting calls from her office. No messages were left, so I assumed it was just the typical follow up call to say all was well. I finally answered the third call, and it was my gynecologist herself. She said to me "You have adenocarcinoma. Cervical cancer. You need to see an oncologist immediately."

I went into shock. There was no way. She told me to come by her office to pick up the lab paperwork so I could take it to the oncologist. I drove there in a daze. I looked over the paperwork, and there it was: adenocarcinoma in situ.

I was terrified. I had no idea what this meant for me. How sick was I? What kind of treatment would I need? And (yes, vain, I know), would I lose all my hair?

Finding a gyn-oncologist was difficult, but I found a fantastic one. His name is Jeffrey Lin, and he works at Sibley Memorial Hospital (a Johns Hopkins hospital) in DC. When he examined me, he said that I was either pre-cancerous, or stage 1a1. The next step was to do a cone biopsy. This would involve removing a portion of my cervix to determine how deep the cancer was. If they got clean margins (basically removing all the cancer), I would need no further treatment. But if there weren't clean margins, I would need additional treatment.

The margins were not clear. I was restaged as 1b1 - still extremely low. My options were radiation or a radical hysterectomy. I chose the hysterectomy, as I have 3 amazing boys, and no plans to have any other children. He also advised that radiation could result in a "short, stiff vagina," which didn't sound like fun at all. So we scheduled the surgery. I had to wait for the biopsy to heal first, so my appointment for my hysterectomy was scheduled for 6/16/2014. Would I need additional treatment after that? We wouldn't know until the surgeries and biopsies that would come along with it.

Cancer is a waiting game. You take one step to determine what the next step will be. You don't know how bad things really are until you take that step. And that is TERRIFYING. But the antidote to the terror is hope and faith. I sought out other women who had been where I was, or were going through it themselves. I found support, love, advice, laughter, and tears.

I educated myself as best I could about what to expect. Then I settled in to wait.

No One Fights Alone - Three Hundred Strong

Me & Mel, the belle of the ball

I've written before about my beautiful, strong teal sister, Melissa, and her fight against cervical cancer, which has now metastasized. This past Saturday, I was lucky enough to travel to her hometown for a beef & beer fundraiser thrown for Mel by her amazing sister in law, Danielle. I met three of my teal sisters for the very first time: Mel, Amanda, and Jennifer. And it was like we'd known each other our entire lives. We've shared so much over the last year, sorrows, triumphs, laughter and tears. Our friendship may have been born from an ugly thing, but the love we have for each other is beautiful and genuine.

So the beef and beer... It was insane! 300 people came out, all to support Mel. Gloss Salon had a table set up to put in teal extensions (obviously I had to get two), there were two raffles, and all the proceeds go to help Mel in her fight. The night epitomized it's title: No One Fights Alone.

And the best part of the night! In a huge surprise, Mel and Ed, her fiance of 8 years got up on stage and GOT MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was beyond perfect.

Sealing the deal

True love

I am so grateful to have been a part of such a magical night. And I'm so grateful to Mel and Ed's families for bringing me into the fold. I love you all so much, and I can't wait to see you again. Getting to hug these ladies who have been my rocks through my own cancer journey was worth more than anything.

no one fights alone

Strong, brave and beautiful inside and out

You can't capture Melissa's essence in a sentence. There are no words to explain how powerful she is, how brave, how strong. Last year, she was diagnosed with stage 1b2 cervical cancer, and she fought like a warrior: surgery, chemo, radiation, all the things she was supposed to do to eradicate the cancer from her body. She struggled, mentally and physically, but she kept a smile on her face, and always had a way of lifting up other ladies battling this dreadful disease. When treatment ended, she took some much deserved r&r in her happy place.

She came back home to have a PET scan done. She'd started experiencing debilitating pain. And then the other shoe dropped. Not only had the cancer fled her body in the face of treatment, it had metastasized. She was restaged to stage 4.

When I found this out, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Despite never having met in real life, her pain became my own. Mel, another dear friend, Amanda, and I are the three musketeers. Cancer besties. We each have walked our own path of hell through this disease, and it is so fucking unfair to watch someone we love so much have to deal with this. Her options are limited. Her oncologist gave her a 10 - 15% chance. She's checking items off her bucket list. And that makes me cry. No one so young should have to go through this. No one should have to make the choices she is faced with.

Mel's sister-in-law, Danielle, is hosting a benefit next weekend to raise money to help with medical bills. Even though the reason for the event is not a happy one, I know that there will be nothing but smiles and laughter (and ok, tears too). While we had hoped to meet under better circumstances, when everyone was healed from treatment, Amanda and I will be there to support our beloved friend and teal sister. To say I can't wait to hug these two women is the understatement of the century.

Every day I pray that the doctors are proven wrong. I know Mel is a fighter. I know she won't rest until she turns over every last rock and finds the magical treatment lying underneath. The picture above is the face of cancer - beautiful, self assured, strong.

Mel, I love you. For late night cry fests, for texts and PMs if you don't see me on Facebook, for that unique, indescribable quality that makes you who you are. No matter what, I am always by your side.