Maybe I Have Dealt With It

I keep thinking that maybe I'm still stuck in the first stage of grief, denial.  I find myself just living life as normal.  I know having your husband shave your head at 12:30am on a Friday night isn't normal, but its my new normal.  I get up every day and live life.  I talk about cancer a lot but I don't find myself being scared of cancer anymore.  It just seems like something I have to do.  Chemo is something I have to do.  Beating cancer is something I have to do.  Just like eating, breathing, sleeping.  Just something I have to do.  Maybe it means I haven't dealt with it, but then again, maybe I have dealt with it.  Maybe instead of being stuck in denial I've moved all the way to acceptance.  I have accepted that I have been given the challenge of beating cancer and I will.  Maybe I've accepted that the worse I feel, the better I'm getting. 

I find myself getting ready for my next round of chemo just like I would get ready for a competition.  I am preparing mentally, stocking up on the meds I'll need, getting in workouts while I feel good, getting good sleep.  I am preparing for my next round chemo as my next round of battle.  On Thursday, at 7:30 am I go to battle.  Not my first time and not my last time, but I go to battle nonetheless.  So maybe I have accepted it and I just didn't realize it.  Or maybe I'm crazy.  Or maybe it's both. 

I got this in a message from a friend tonight: God only gives us what we can handle.  Too bad he knows you're strong.

I'm bald, have a fresh tattoo and am ready for round 2. 

Finding strength and courage

I watched my hair come out in massive quantities for a week.  According to my friends, and the trash can, I have way more hair than the average person. So come Friday night while I was complaining about my thin hair, they were making me laugh as my hair was now the same thickness as theirs.

The thinning hair wasn't the worst part though.  My scalp was so painful, at all times it felt as though I had my hair pulled back really tight and had just let it down.  Any girl who has ever had their hair done up fancy for a dance or wedding or whatver knows the feeling.  Mine felt like that even when it wasn't pulled back. It kept getting worse.  Friday night I was in pain, had discovered my bald spots were now connecting to one another and at 12:30am told Matt I thought I was finally ready.  I'm not surprised at how supportive he was because that's the kind of husband he is, but I am so thankful at his ability to make me laugh as he cut, shaped, styled and eventually buzzed all of my hair.  His loving comments, humor and sneak attack first cut helped me find the courage to be okay with the whole thing. There is no time to be sad when your husband sneak attacks you and cuts a big chunk of your hair off while you are sending a text message. I just had to move forward and laugh!  We documented the process and I laugh every time I see the pictures:

His first cut just so happened to give me a mullet

He took his job very seriously...too seriously!

He found his true calling. Angry hairstylist!

Mohawk!

Final product!

All week I worried about this moment. To me shaving my head wasn't me taking control, it was cancer becoming outwardly visible. It was the beginning of looking sick.  However, during our hair cutting session Matt helped me find strength and courage.  He will likely never understand just how much he helped me that night.  When all was said and done I felt beautiful in a very strange, newly bald way. But he helped me get there and it will be a memory we share that most married couples will never be able to.  While I have no doubts this year will be a year that tests our marriage in ways I can't even comprehend right now, it will also be a year in which we help each other find strength in moments of weakness and courage in moments of fear.  I know he will be there for me when I need him most and I just hope I can do the same for him. 

It isn't always deep

Cancer isn't always deep, philosophical, meaningful thought.  Sometimes it is but sometimes it road rage and inappropriate crying and top ramen and more road rage.  

I'm sitting here smiling because the emotional roller coaster that was today was a bit surprising and it has to be somewhat comical, otherwise this is going to be a long road! I don't feel well, I have a sore throat, my nose is dry and lined with blood, my stomach is less than iron and I feel like I have a bad case of the alcohol induced spins but haven't had any booze.  I don't know what is chemo, what is just sickness and what sickness may be because I had chemo.  What I do know is that this morning was filled with snuggles and book reading and being fed mushed leftover eggs and taking a toddler given sponge bath with the wash cloth I cleaned his breakfast off of him with.

I was force fed those eggs on his tray.

I didn't feel well but I was at peace with it.  I had Liam and he was being super sweet and it was just a day.  Then 1:00pm came.  I had a doctors appointment at 1:15, luckily Liam stayed home with his Nana.  I got in the car and immediately turned in to a road rage fool! Like I couldn't believe how mad I was getting over the stupid drivers out there.  At one point, when everyone was literally doing 10mph UNDER the speed limit I wished OUTLOUD that I could drive a monster truck and physically crush all of the people on the road that were out there to make me mad today.  Realizing it must be the steroids I have to take (I was warned about this) I quickly changed the radio from a upbeat country tune to Jesus music.  It didn't help.

I took some deep breaths, chugged along and managed to get to the hospital without hurting anyone.  I got in line for the elevator, crammed in with all the happy people and waited until we got to the 4th floor.  A little old lady assumed she would be the only one getting off and was surprised when I exited first.  29 years don't normally get off on the hematology oncology floor.  I walked in, waited to check in for my appointment, all the while having to physically calm myself, not sure from what.  I tell her my name, she scans her computer and then tells me my appointment is tomorrow.  Tomorrow! I kid you not, I started bawling.  Right there in front of everyone, melt down city.  It may have been because I secretly thought they could give me a magical shot that would make me feel better, I'm not sure.  But I cried way harder than anyone who is told their appointment is the next day should cry.

So I sanitize my hands in the hallway station, grab some tissue and take my blubbering mess of a self back to my car.  People are staring.  They probably assume I was just given some awful news.  It's awkward, I don't care.  I make it to my car and road rage hits again but now my thoughts are consumed with top ramen.  Thoughts like, is it possible top ramen could actually be good for me? Is there an alternate universe in which maybe it's NOT filled with chemicals and bad things, and maybe cancer is a good thing? Because now all I want is top ramen, the chicken flavor, and it almost makes me cry harder, no it did make me cry harder, because I know top ramen isn't good, so I drove to Jamba Juice.  

Moral of today's story? Steroids are bad.

How To Say Thank You

How is it that in the entire English language there isn't a word big enough, immense enough, powerful enough to convey the gratitude I feel towards every single person who has reached out and supported me and my family?  How is it possible a word doesn't exist?  What do I say?  How do I start?

Thank you just isn't enough.  It lacks so much in it's ability to articulate how I feel right now.  The love and support that keeps pouring in is all consuming and amazing and perfect and humbling.  The big things, the little things and everything in between.  Not a single action, thought, word or gesture goes unnoticed by us.  Not one.  I sit here tonight and I am trying to think of how I can possibly save every single word, thought, gesture, memory in my mind.  Keep it for the days when things are much tougher than they are now.  Save it for the days when I'm weak, tired, not feeling good, being a complete bitch (it will happen, I think it already did today!).  Fight Like a Gill was BEYOND anything I can even articulate.  It touched us in ways most of you will never know, I hope you'll never know, that you'll never need to know.

I love every single one of you.  And though it seems more than inadequate, Thank You.

Ignoring The Odds

If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them.  When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope?  We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell.
- Lance Armstrong

I am trying my best to ignore odds and percentages.  I haven't looked, haven't asked, don't want to know.  In a situation like mine, being naive to what could happen is best, in my opinion.  I don't know what I'm capable of as I have nothing to compare against.  That's a good thing.  So I walk into this as a child, ignoring all odds, all percentages, prepared to fight like hell!

I start my first chemo session, treatment, round.  I don't know what to call it, but it starts tomorrow.  My appointment is at 7:30am and I'm told to prepare to be there for 6 hours.  I will get steroids and fluids first.  If it stopped there I would head straight the the gym and hit a few PR's, but it doesn't,  From there I will get the three difference drugs administered.  Once those are done I will get more fluids to flush my body and protect my kidneys as much as possible. 

Apparently I'm still stuck in the whole shock/disbelief phase because this just doesn't feel real yet.  It's been 22 days since I found out and it still doesn't feel real.  I supposed I'm grateful for that as I've been able to live life as normal.  I've been able to spend quality time with my family, laugh, play in the snow, workout, PR, fold laundry, grocery shop.  Normal things.  Liam and I hammed it up for the camera today.  Took our last pre chemo pictures together and it felt so good to capture these sweet moments today.

 

My mantra remains.  I have more than hope.  I am going to fight like hell.  I WILL beat this.  NO OTHER OPTION.

Good News Born from Bad

I'm trying not to overwhelm everyone's Facebook feed with updates about cancer so held off on any updates in an attempt to summarize my day. It's amazing how much life changes in a day.

In 8th grade I created a Me book (anyone from Crossler Middle School likely remembers this). It was a book showing our writing skills, documenting who we were then and who we wanted to be. I had a very specific timeline as to when I would win my first, and second (and probably more) gold medal at the Olympics for the 400m dash. Unfortunately my racing skills peaked in 8th grade.

I planned on playing for the Women's World Cup team, however after highschool I no longer played anything more than intramural or indoor soccer. However at the time I remember having such a random plan that when I became an amazing athlete I would shave my head. No one would make fun of me because I would be such an amazing athlete that it would just be my thing. Maybe this was because I had so much hair, crazy, big hair, that I didn't really know what to do with back then. Maybe it was because deep down I knew at some point my badassness would be tested. I don't know. I also thought I would end up discovering a new species of shark. Turns out, I'm terrified of the ocean and am probably one of the WORST snorkeling partners a person could have, just ask Matt.

Point is, I had NO idea where my life would take me. I had no idea I would marry such a wonderful, caring, strong, passionate man, and not so early on (I figured I may just live the single life as a rich woman living in the big city). Kids were not even on the radar. I honestly didn't know I wanted kids until I married Matt. I didn't know I wanted more than one kid until I fell so deeply in love with Liam.

I certainly had no idea I would be diagnosed with cancer. An aggressive, rare form of cancer that is threatening my life. No idea that Liam would be my only biological child because of the treatment that WILL save my life. And no idea that I would lose my hair. Yupp, see today's turn of events revealed the news that my treatment plan has been changed and I will indeed lose my hair. Probably not what I should be focused on right now, but I am. I don't think it’s the loss as much as the duration. I face more than 8 rounds of treatment. I actually don't have an estimated end date of treatment. Treatment will be every three weeks. When I turn 30 next month, I will likely be bald. Probably won't have eyebrows. I don't want people staring at me, wondering what is wrong with me, pitying me because I am clearly sick. I don't want to look at myself in the mirror and pity myself. Shaving my head back in 8th grade seemed cool. Now, not so much.

This new chemo treatment will start next week. Hopefully on Tuesday, I'll know for sure tomorrow. I will receive two chemo drugs, Cisplatin and Taxol and another more novel drug called Avastin. I will get an IV infusion every three weeks. It will take about a week to recover from the treatment. I'll feel better the following week, then I'm back in for the next round. Our plan is to take advantage of the second week and take little mini trips, spend as much quality time as a family as we can. To not let this take over our lives. Life goes on, it has to go on and we have to make the most of it.

The hope of the doctors is that this chemo plan will treat the cancer in my lymph nodes and shrink the tumor. So no radiation. This is an aggressive plan, but I am healthy and I am strong and I will endure it as long as I need to in order to beat this. They will do an exam, possibly scans in 8 weeks and if the tumor is shrinking then we continue on that path. So we hope and pray and will that damn tumor to shrink all while we hope and pray and will those cancer cells to get the hell out of my lymph nodes!

We finally got our good news as well, although born out of bad news, it is good news. Unknown to us, the concern when they biopsied my neck was not that it would be positive to cancer cells, but that it would be positive for a different kind of cancer cell. The same kind as lung cancer, a very bad kind. But it wasn't. It was cervical cancer and this is good news!

Another HUGE bit of good news. Matt and his K9 Jake passed their certification today (I just found out and am so happy I had to share). Matt has been by my side for every crushing blow, for every bit of bad news. He has stayed strong, positive and was willing to set everything aside for me. I love him with all my heart and admire him for his hard word, dedication to his family, friends and job, his enormous heart, goofy ways. I love everything about him and wanted this for him more than he probably wanted it for himself. The Gill family needed a win and we got one today!

Avoiding The Bus

Every time someone tells me I am strong, I am an inspiration, I am their motivation I think about those people that are my inspiration, my motivation, who I look up to as being strong.  I have a lot of them, but this post isn't about me.  It's about a wonderful young girl turned amazing young lady I met through Crossfit a few years ago. 

Jaden Lynch.  From the minute I met her I could see how strong she was, how powerful she was, how genuine and amazing she was.  Jaden is 15, in 2011 she was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia and has been fighting the disease ever since.  I don't know the extent of her treatment or her disease.  What I do know is that she isn't defined by it.  She lives life to the fullest and likely has no idea the impact she has on those around her, people like me.  I remember her time and time again coming in to the box with her parents with a smile on her face, working out, getting stronger.  One day she was in there doing pullups with a boot on her broken foot!  She inspires me, she gives me hope, and she wrote the following essay for school which her mom sent to me yesterday and I just had to share with everyone:

Why I Lift
It is just like any other day at the gym, I finish my WOD and collapse on the floor. As I lay on the stall mats trying to regain my breath I think to myself "Why do I do this, why do I lift." I lift to reach my limit. I lift to spend time with my family. I lift to have control. I lift to understand the movements of life. I lift in preparation. I lift although I know I can never be limitless. I lift to give life, to have life, and to live life to the fullest of my capabilities. I lift to promote. I lift to overcome pain and suffering and disease. I lift because I never thought I could. I lift out of anger. I lift to avoid. I lift because I am weak. I lift because I am strong. I lift when words aren't enough. I lift into aggravation. I lift when nothing can get any worse. I lift to love. I lift because it makes me feel loved. I lift to achieve the goals I have set for myself and for those that have been placed upon me. I lift because I can and nobody can ever take the ability away from me.

This family is also an inspiration and shared their motto with me, which Matt and I really like and are adopting.

It's not getting us today & likely not tomorrow so let's make the most of it and try not to get hit by a bus while we are busy living today.

Here's to making the most out of each day and avoiding the bus!

Anger Fuels The Fight

I stated in my post yesterday, my words aren't always going to be easy to read.  I just ask that no matter what I write, don't pity me.  Don't baby me.  Don't allow me to falter in my fight against this stupid cancer.  Don't take my honesty of emotions as defeat.  Its just that, honesty.  

My days are such a roller coaster of emotions.  When I get to the end I am exhausted.  To go from laughing with Liam, to wondering how many years I'll have with him in a matter of a minute is very tiring.  I'm in such conflict because I can't help but feel scared, angry, heart broken, confused, betrayed.  Yet every time those emotions start to take over I push them away because to feel them, to really feel them isn't something I'm ready for.  If I'm scared how can I can strong?  If I'm sad how can I be confident that I'll beat this whole stupid, awful, unfair, sneaky bastard called cancer. 

If it's possible I think I'm dealing with all five stages of grief all at once.  I'm still in shock.  This just feels like an awful nightmare I can't wake up from.  I'm angry.  I'm angry for my son who deserves to have a mom.  I'm angry for my husband who deserves to have a wife.  I'm angry for myself because I deserve to live a long healthy life with my husband and my son.  I'm angry for my family, my friends.  I'm angry.  I keep asking why me?  What did I or didn't I do that caused this to happen?  At times I am overwhelmed with sadness.  For Liam, for Matt, for myself, for my family, for my friends, for myself.  I have not accepted it though.  I'm not there yet.

I keep thinking that once treatment starts things will feel real.  Once my health starts to suffer due to chemo and radiation I'll get it, I'll accept it, I'll find some kind of peace with it.  I don't want to accept it though and I don't want to find peace with it.  I don't want to be defined by it, I don't want my life to be dictated by it.  I hate cancer.  I hate that it is on my mind more than it's not.  I hate what it's doing to the people I love.  I hate what it's doing to me.  I hate that every day, every hour, every minute is consumed with this stupid cancer.  I don't have a good way to end this post.  I don't have feel good words.  I'm angry.  Anger fuels the fight though.

More Than Hope

I've decided, and have been encouraged, to start blogging again, about this whole crazy cancer thing.  I know for some of you my words and thoughts may be painful to read, but this is therapeutic for me.  It provides me with a way to journal my thoughts, my story and to keep everyone updated on everything without having to say and type it over and over.  Hearing someone tell you they don't think they can cure you, that you need a miracle, is probably one of the more difficult things a person can ever hear.  To have to repeat that to your loved ones, even harder.

The name of my blog is an important one to me.  More Than Hope.  Hope is a good thing, rooted deeply in Christianity and religion, hope is a great thing.  To me, however, hope implies the possibility of a different outcome.  Hope leaves the door slightly open for the bad.  So I have more than hope.  I have a stubborn conviction, a complete and total confidence that I will beat this.  I have hope, but I have more than hope because there can't be another option.  There is only one option.  I prove everyone wrong and beat this.

Case in point: I knew Liam was a miracle, every child is a miracle.  Today I learned just how much of a miracle he truly is.  I've had cancer for years.  Somehow the standard yearly tests (I seriously never missed a pap) failed me.  Somehow my cancer snuck by, undetected.  The fact that I was able to get pregnant and carry Liam to term, a healthy normal baby is nothing short of a miracle.  My doctor today told me she was surprised my body could support a pregnancy given how advanced my cancer would have been at that time.   Point Me and point Liam!  Already doing things I shouldn't be able to do.

So for the details, in an attempt to answer what questions I can.  We found out I had cervical cancer on November 18th.  Between now and then we have learned that my cancer is stage IIB.  My tumor has extended from my cervix in to my uterus.  Cancer this advanced very rarely presents in women my age.  Even more rare is it not being detected for so long.  While I have not had any biopsies yet, its safe to say the cancer has spread to my lymphatic system.   The biopsy tomorrow will confirm the extent of that.  The good news is that it has not spread to my bladder or rectum (always have to find the silver lining). 

My case is extremely rare.  Like NONE of my doctors have ever seen a women my age (young), in my health (which is impeccable!) present with cancer this advanced all while NEVER having a bad pap smear.  It is extremely difficult to treat because the area in which the tumor and cancer cells have spread is large.  Radiation can be given in small areas with good results, it cannot be given to your entire body and generally isn't given above the diaphragm in large areas (can be targeted to small specific areas).  It can be just as dangerous as the cancer itself to try to treat everywhere.  So the chemo has to come in and treat the cancer cells elsewhere while the radiation treats the pelvic region.  It is also difficult because it is so rare.  Ultimately the doctors do not know exactly how to treat me, there could be multiple approaches and I assume there will be multiple approaches.  We will do radiation and chemo and maybe surgery down the road.  And then who knows.

Chemo starts on Thursday.  The first round will be for 8 weeks.  One chemo infusion a week for 8 weeks.  Radiation may start Thursday as well, but could be pushed to Monday as they are still trying to map out the exact treatment.  Radiation will be 5 days a week for 6 weeks.  Then we retest and revise. 

I kind of like that my doctors haven't seen my case before because it opens up possibilities for anything.  I don't fit the mold of cervical cancer.  I'm not the norm and that's okay.  Because right now and forever, I have more than hope.  I am stubbornly and confidently moving forward with the expectation that against all odds I will win this battle.  There is no other option.

I love all of you.  All of your support, prayers, positive thoughts, encouraging words, offers for help.  It all means more than you can know.  I have such a huge army behind me, I almost feel sorry for this cancer.  It doesn't stand a chance.