Community Lifting

I lay here, not quite laying down, not quite comfortable, not quite sure what to write.  I am hooked up to my power port for non-stop fluids and a cath because standing up seems to induce a seizure-like response causing me to pass out. 

This all sarted around the beginning of August.  My pesky hip flexor and left psoas muscles just wouldn’t let it go.  I sought out my chiropractor, physical massage therapist, went to the ER twice, crippled in pain.  During the last visit to the ER, I was so sick from pain meds and hadn’t been able to hold any food down for five days and was admitted into the Salem Hospital.    

Fast forward to today, I’m not actually able to write by myself and I don’t have the ability to stare at the computer screen long enough or the dexterity to work these apple devices.  Its Wednesday sept 17^th, exactly 2 months and 1 day shy of my initial cancer diagnosis.  And I now sit here weighing words like brain cancer and seizures and malignant psoas syndrome on one side and on the other side what seems like all original markers of being cancer free. 

To say I’m confused is the understatement of the year.  I’ve wanted to sit down so many times since we found this news out and write to explain how I am feeling and keep finding myself with lack of words.   I go back to one of my posts which I discuss how life is about lifting heavy things and you keep lifting until they’re not heavy anymore. 

I’d like to sit down here and scribe through my friend and husband all the thoughts I have contemplated since I heard the words brain cancer.  The funny thing is that it takes all control over your thoughts and in the end it is always a constant reminder of how many people are there for us and in true everyday warrior fashion, no one fights alone. 

Due to my wonderful family, friends and volunteers, everyday warrior will go forward with our first annual battle series and my hope is that my story will help motivate those who are still on the fence to participate.  The money isn’t raised for me or my family, but for those out there who need someone to fight for them and for them to know they aren’t fighting alone.

We appreciate your patience with us as we work through these transitions in an organization so newly founded but now operating at less than half capacity of what we once were.  Please direct any questions to our Facebook page publicly or our e-mail info@everyday-warrior.org  We’ll do our best to follow up with you as soon as we can and we’re so excited that even through all of this we can continue to pursue our mission and that NO ONE FIGHTS ALONE.

Love you all. 

On Perspective

My perspective isn't right, isn't for everyone, isn't better than yours.  It's my perspective.  It has changed and evolved more in the past 6 months in a way most will never know.  And it's so simple.  At the end of the day I just want to be a mom to my son, a wife to my husband, a daughter to my parents, a sister, a friend.  I want to bring more joy and happiness than I take, I want to give more than I receive.  And I want to grow old in these ways, very old.  Everything else is secondary.  

As I continue to grow in my faith and religion I find myself at an interesting and difficult juncture.  I am faithful, I believe.  However I can't just openly trust in God's will because what if his will isn't for me to beat this.  I don't know His will for me, His plan for me and I'm not willing to accept anything less than me beating this.  So therein lies the challenge.  I voiced this struggle at church this past week and a good friend simply stated to me that we still have some power to influence our outcome.  We have some control.  And as a control freak, that was just what I needed to hear.  Cancer seeks to take control away.  And I think some let it.  I won't.  When I pray I pray for strength and grace and endurance.  To beat this, not to live with it, but to beat it.

On Memorial Day, 30 minutes in to a grueling workout named Murph, to honor the sacrifice of both one and many, I found myself in this exact same spot of blind faith and control.  Of accepting my circumstances and fighting to change them.  Laying face down on the floor, resting between push ups, the tears starting flowing.  Body shaking, ugly face crying tears.  Not because I couldn't do the workout, couldn't finish it, but because I could and I would.  Because in that very moment I felt this overwhelming, clear as day thought wash over me.  If I can do this I won't die from cancer.  If I can run 1 mile, do 100 pullups, 200 push-ups and 300 squats, then run another mile AFTER starting back on chemo and radiation then I will also beat cancer. 

As I laid there in a pool of my own sweat, after having asked a dear friend if my eyebrows were running, crying, I heard one thing: Come on Brit, you can do this.  So I did.  

Everyday Warrior - No One Fights Alone

The battle of life, is, in most cases, fought uphill; and to win it without a struggle were perhaps to win it without honor.  If there were no difficulties there would be no success; if there were nothing to struggle for, there would be nothing to be achieved - Samuel Smiles

Oh the struggles I, no we, have encountered in the past 5 1/2 months.  They are numerous, exhausting and oddly motivating.  I didn't know I was a warrior.  I had no idea how strong I was, I am, until all of this cancer talk started.  I was just an everyday person.  Raise my son, go to work, love my husband, take care of household chores, have some fun.  Everyday person.  5 1/2 months ago I found my inner warrior and I haven't looked back.  I'm a bad patient, an awful patient.  I don't believe I am limited by anything more than my mind, and sometimes post surgical instructions.  I don't always kick ass, but I kick ass on more days than days I don't kick ass.  At least that's my opinion of myself right now.  I have been blessed with an amazing support system through all of this which enables me to fight with everything I have to beat cancer.  It is this support system, and this warrior mentality, that has been an ever present theme in every struggle, every blow of bad news, every frustrating call to insurance companies and doctors offices.  It is what I hope to inspire in others.  The warrior spirit.

Matt and I began talking about starting a non-profit almost as soon as I was diagnosed.  It was something we had brought up over the past few years but never really had a clear direction, a clear cause and so it was nothing more than someday talks.  Once I was diagnosed, it became clear that the focus would be cancer.  The statistics of cancer diagnosis in America are staggering and now that I part of the cancer crowd, we had our insider.  However, we still didn't have a clear idea of what we wanted to do, or when.  That was until I found out that as of May 16th I will no longer have a job.  No ill feelings towards my company, they have been great, but I am still losing my job because of my diagnosis.  Our cause, our mission became crystal clear.  We wanted to be able to help financially support individuals fighting cancer so that they could focus on healing instead of financial burdens.  Everyday Warrior (Everyday-Warrior.org) was born from this last struggle of losing my job.  Sometimes struggles are motivating!

Everyday Warrior is a non-profit organization whose mission is to financially support, inspire and empower individuals who have been diagnosed with cancer, the Everyday Warriors among us.  We are in the beginning phases of planning for a large fundraising event that will take place this fall (sign up on our website to be notified when the new site is up and running!).  We are beyond excited to be moving forward on what will be a most amazing experience.  It is my personal experience that mental fortitude and the warrior spirit are paramount in the fight to beat cancer and if we can inspire just one person to find their inner warrior then I will call this a success.  If we can help just one person with the financial struggles that accompany any good cancer fight, then Everyday Warrior will be a success. 

Everyday Warrior - No One Fights Alone

Blessed To Attempt

Thursday brought the best news we've received in quite some time.  My lymph nodes are cancer free and my tumor has continued to shrink.  Other than being told I'm victorious, I beat cancer, this is about as good as it gets as far as cancer doctors appointments go and cancer updates go.

Never wanting to get ahead of myself I refuse to celebrate until I have total victory, but I was feeling pretty happy and strong and determined that I could PR my clean today.  What better way to say Fuck Cancer than to PR a lift?! 200# here I come! 

Or not.  It didn't happen today and not for lack of trying that's for sure.  With each failed attempt I got more frustrated but in the back of my mind I just kept thinking how blessed I was.  Blessed to be strong enough to be attempting 200#, probably 10+ times.  I didn't get it today and that sucks because I know I will be getting a port in the next week or so and will be fairly restricted, for sure from catching 200# in the front rack, AKA where the port will be, position. But you know what? I'm strong enough to be attempting it and for that I am so thankful.  I'm not wasting away in cancer land, I am thriving and surviving and winning. I'm mentally strong enough to push myself, to beat cancer and throw some big weights around while I do it.

We have also entered hair watch 2014.  Now that I am done with the Taxol my hair should start growing back.  I've been told by a good friend that I have entered the phase where I have enough hair that people look at me and question why I shaved my head and possibly want to fight me because I look angry and aggressive with a shaved head.  I'll take it! Sure, I have a few bald spots but I have a soft fuzzy head of hair growing in (says another friend as she pets me).  I also have teeny tiny eyelashes and eyebrows coming in.  So Hair Watch 2014 here we are! I can't tell you how excited I am to have eyebrows and eyelashes and hair.  You really take for granted all these things until one day you wake up and you look like a cancer patient.  Or when allergy season starts and you are effected for the first time because you don't have eyelashes or nose hairs to filter out all the allergens.  

This next phase of treatment may very well be more challenging than the first but as always I have More Than Hope and hair regrowth and faith and family and friends who are fighting alongside me.  And strength.  I'm pretty damn strong for a cancer patient. 

Proof

3...2...1...Go! Prove you are not sick, not weak. Remind yourself you are capable, more than capable.  Do what they said you couldn't, can't.  Suffer by choice not by disease. Train the mind, the soul, then the body.  Take 50% and shove it where the sun doesn't shine.  You are better than 50% of your best. Today, yesterday and tomorrow.  Dizzy by design not by meds.  Out of breath not out of effort, will, stubbornness, faith, belief.  Certainly not out of Hope.  

The 2014 Crossfit Open is over, but I am so grateful for it.  Prior to the Open I started to believe what my doctors were telling me.  That I wasn't capable, I wouldn't be.  The Open was and has been a chance to remind myself every week that I am who I decide I am.  I can do what I decide I can do.  I may not be better than I was last year.  I'm different than last year.  I'm I still a stubborn ass, tell me I can't just so I can prove you wrong beast.  But now I've done it with cancer in tow.  I took on cancer 5 weeks, 5 rounds of the Open and I won! I endured 2 rounds of chemo DURING the Open.  Sure, I don't have a muscle up yet, but I completed the Open WITH cancer and I didn't give up.  I pushed through each week, each WOD.  I trained smart, I trained hard.  I sandbagged and I pushed myself, all in a well thought out strategy to successfully get through the Open.

I will always want more out of myself but I'm not sure any future Open, any future competition will ever be as uplifting, as memorable, as good of a finish as doing the Open 2014 with cancer.  

My name is Brittany Gill and I just did what I didn't think I could do 5 weeks ago.  Suck it cancer!

What Next

It's seems one thing that is certain with a cancer diagnosis is uncertainty.  It starts in the very beginning.  How bad is it? What are my odds...wait don't tell me.  How do we treat it? Is treatment working?  What next? How long? 

Round 6 is over.  It tried to knock me back a bit but I'm still standing, in between medicated naps.  First thing before I even got the IV put in is they tell me I'm no longer allowed to have any fun during chemo.  Well boo on them.  I still had fun, just afterwards.  You can't keep me down!

These pictures were taken just after 7 hours of chemo and I felt way better after some foolish shenanigans then I did during 7 hours of sitting and behaving myself.

During chemo I had some struggles. My veins are pretty fried and even the saline solution going in burned a bit.  Towards the end it felt like I was getting stung by a bee repeatedly.  My hand swelled up quite a bit as did the skin around my eyebrows.  I experienced some heart palpitations but all in all I walked out a champ! Round 6 you landed a few good blows but I left victoriously!  I told my nurse if they had just let me have some fun none of the above mentioned would have happened!

Now come lots of naps, meds and more naps.  Before any decisions are made I have another PET/CT scheduled.  Based on the results I will most likely start daily radiation (m-f) and weekly chemo for 4-6 weeks.  I am both excited and nervous for a new course of treatment. I am just praying it works and the words You Are Cancer Free are just around the corner.  Until then we deal with some more uncertainty regarding treatment.  But we will make the most of the time and this mini break from treatment. 

As always, thank you so much for the prayers and support.

Round 6

I've never been electrocuted but I have a feeling I know what the inside of a person's body would feel like who was.  Chemo round 5 knocked me back a few steps.  Humbled me a bit more (not that cancer and chemo in general hadn't humbled me already).  Left me feeling pretty fried from the inside out.  I used to be excited about chemo because it was and is my lifeline.  Today, I am a bit nervous for round 6.  Nervous like I was for Open WOD 14.4.  Not afraid it will win, but nervous because I know the suck, the pain that comes with tackling it, conquering it.  I'll do it and I'll survive it and I'll be stronger after it, but knowing ahead of time the amount of suck you are about to endure can be a bit intimidating.  I will still smile through it though.

The other day someone looked at me in the store and said, you must be a survivor! Ahh so great! Usually people look at me and say, oh, cancer? Haha yupp, cancer.  To have someone think I'm a survivor was such a great compliment! Yes, I am a survivor! Of 5 rounds of chemo, soon to be 6.  Of uncertainty and baldness.  Of no eye lashes and phlebitis and all other cancer related suckiness.  

So bring it round 6.  You make me nervous but I'm not afraid.  3...2...1...Go!

You Suffer For Awhile

It seems crazy to me that almost 4 months have passed since that fateful November 18th day when the C word was introduced in to our daily vocabulary.  I've always had hope, but I would be lying if I didn't say that I also had a lot of fear.  I think I still have fear.  Fear that I'll get too hopeful, fear that I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak, fear that when this is over I have to stop being a cancer patient and start being a survivor, fear that I don't really know what the future holds (not that I ever did, but I thought I did). 

One thing cancer has done, one thing battlefields do, is provide perspective.  Perspective on time, on relationships, on priorities.  Things seem to slow down and at the same time, speed up.  Maybe its because when you are knee deep in the battle of your life, for your life, you become all too aware of how short your time here on Earth is.  Each day really is a precious gift and to realize that, I mean really realize that, it adds a bit of pressure to make each day count.  To cherish moments, make memories, get cracking on that to-do list, or maybe toss the to-do list in the trash and just enjoy each moment for what they are, moments in this life here on Earth. 

I started this post a month ago but not until today did I know how to finish it.

I met with a new doctor today about my thyroid disease (not a big deal at all, just needed to get it taken care of) and as she is talking to me she quoted lyrics from Mat Kearney - 'I guess we're all one phone call from our knees'.  She didn't know my whole story but most of it and wow, never a truer statement.  She proceeds to tell me that life changes in an instant and we have to be thankful and grateful for everything we have, every moment we have.  I broke down in tears because not only was she speaking to me literally but I just had this sense, this goose bump inducing feeling that God was speaking to me, through her. 

I originally started this post based on 1 Peter 5:10-11: And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  To Him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.

Suffering and being restored.  Not always a straight forward, one time thing.  We go through many cycles of suffering and restoration.  And hopefully we are made stronger each time.  In the end though, we really are just a phone call, a moment, away from our knees.  From suffering for awhile.

In the words of my amazing friend Shaina Jordan, 'I guess heavy is really the only way to describe some things - barbells and life mainly'.

Heavy doesn't mean impossible though.  It's just heavy. 

So we deal with it, with the suffering.  We get stronger, until it isn't all that heavy any more.

Phenomenal

Phenomenal  The exact words my doctor used today to explain the results of my pelvic exam.  Phenomenal.  Dr. DeGeest is an amazing doctor, but not one to sugar coat anything, which I appreciate.  He is authentic yet hopeful. So when he uses words like phenomenal, you celebrate!

Today I strolled in to the Gyn Oncology building expecting just a routine exam, no news is good news kind of thing.  I was so wrong though.  I got so much more than that.  I got PHENOMENAL news!  My tumor has SHRUNK!  My cervix looks like that of a normal woman, not one with cancer and the tumor is so small that he cannot see it, only feel it.  I've had three pelvic exams since finding out I have cancer.  The first one was bad.  The tumor was visible by eyesight, my cervix was in bad shape, Dr. DeGeest was the only doctor that held out any hope for me.  Second exam, the tumor was still the same size but looked a lot better, my cervix looked a lot better.  Third exam, PHENOMENAL!  (I love how casually I can talk about my cervix now.  Like its just an arm or a leg.  Not that we shouldn't talk about cervix's, it just wasn't something I normally would blog about) .Not only was he impressed at my ability to handle chemo like a champ, but he was so surprised and happy to see how well I am responding to treatment.  He also smirked at me as he said, 'So I hear you are keeping up with your workouts'.  Clearly rumor of my chemo shenanigans is spreading through the hospital.

On this battlefield of cancer there are daily battles, most of which I win.  I won't say I win all of them because that would be a lie, but most of them I come out the victor.  Today was one of those days that takes ALL of the bad days and days of feeling shitty and bundles them up in a box and lights them on fire, or maybe blows them up!  Today was a REALLY good day!

I have a PET scan on 2/25 (next Tuesday) to see if there are any cancer cells remaining in my lymph nodes and to get an exact measurement of the tumor.  Dr. DeGeest said he wouldn't be surprised if the scan showed no cancer in my lymph nodes.  He is not the guy to go around making assumptions about anything, so while I'm not hanging my hat on that, I am really encouraged that he would even say something like that.

At this point chemo will be reviewed and determined round by round.  Round 5 is on March 6th, my brother's birthday.  Round 6 is tentative, but I don't mind going another round as it's working!  I'll go as many rounds as they let me if it results in this cancer being gone!

I still don't know what the future holds treatment wise.  Very likely it will be daily radiation (Mon-Fri) with weekly chemo at a much lower dose and only one drug for 4-6 weeks.  I am a planner so I'm really anxious to find out the plan.  But for now I am going to just celebrate the good news.

I can't think of a way to easily transition this from the above but part of my battlefield has included a most remarkable journey towards finding Christ, becoming a Christian.  I have had the honor and privilege of attending services at Salem Evangelical and Morning Side Community Church.  This Sunday I am going to Church on the Hill.  I so look forward to Sunday church services and have been praying that I find the right church, the church to call home.  On my way to my appointment this morning I turned the radio to 97.9 and this song came on:

 

I heard this song on Sunday at Morning Star and it gave me goosebumps then and it did again today (I love that feeling!).  As I got out of the truck and walked to the hospital I just prayed for healing.  This is new for me, praying, like really praying.  And based on today's appointment I like to say that my prayers were heard and answered!

I am still slowly working my way through the book Beautiful Battlefields, purposefully as I really want to take it all in.  I wrote down this quote from the author, Bo Stern because it just seemed to perfectly describe my experiences on this battlefield.

'But I'm learning that Jesus shows up when we let other people share the sacred spaces of our pain and joy and sorrow, and our willingness to be authentic gives everyone else permission to be authentic as well'

Oh I have More Than Hope, more now than ever before!

My Battlefield

I've debated on whether or not to share this but I am so excited, so amazed, so humbled by how God has shown up in my life recently, how He has spoken to me that I had to share.

I didn't grow up going to church, so my spirituality has always been something I've wanted to explore deeper but never have with any real conviction.  When Liam was born I felt a pull to find a church, go to church.  However I never moved forward, I think I always figured I had time.  I would get to it one of these days.  I didn't listen to what He was trying to tell me.

When I was diagnosed with cancer I felt another pull to really open my heart, my mind, my soul yet it seemed so daunting that I didn't act.  How would I find a church, where would I start, how would I let go of all the questions and just believe, believe in the mystery and the miracles without applying logic to everything?  During this, the darkest season of my life, how would I now pursue a relationship with Him when I felt so betrayed, so forgotten about.

Then my Aunt was struck by a brain aneurysm and I lost my beloved dog all in one day and I finally threw my hands up and cried and said I can't do this by myself.  I was so heart broken and yet I had this feeling that He was trying to tell me something.  Not that my Aunt or Remi were somehow punished by Him, but that He was reaching out, trying to tell me I didn't need to go through this by myself. 

So I listened and He spoke to me through a good friend who reached out and asked if I wanted to go to church with her. This past Sunday I went to church for the first time as an adult.  Here is where I don't even know how to describe my experience because words can't quite capture the feeling, the feeling of knowing He was speaking directly to me.  The message or sermon (still learning the right vocabulary here) was all about physical healing.  How people were healed through Christ of their physical aliments.  Testimony of how people at that very church beat cancer.  I was brought to tears, I had goosebumps.  I was listening and I'm so glad I was because He had so much to tell me, to show me.  I still get goosebumps thinking about it.

He continues to speak to me, to show up in small and big ways in my life and I suppose always has, I just wasn't listening before.  He spoke to me through another good friend who asked me to start reading Beautiful Battlefields (by Bo Stern) with her.  I just finished chapter three and one of the questions at the end of it was to think of all the ways, small and big, you have seen evidence God has gone before you.  I got me thinking about this past year, more so, and it overwhelms me to see how He has gone before me and provided in such a perfect way, providing me with everything I need, when I need it on my battlefield.  Cancer, my battlefield. 

I am trying not to rush this, I am taking time every day to really listen.  My current goal is to find a church that is the perfect fit for me.  I look forward to each Sunday because I am visiting various churches with good friends and I look forward to hearing what He has to tell me, seeing what He has to show me and growing a relationship with Him that I now so deeply crave.

I continue to wage a very personal war on my battlefield against cancer I leave you with a quote and a verse from Beautiful Battlefields because they spoke so profoundly to me.

"And He who is the great Giver of every good gift creates some of the most brilliant and beautiful things in the darkest, most daunting seasons" - Beautiful Battlefields

"We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame" ROMANS 5:3-5

The Highs

The lows can get pretty low but the highs, oh the highs are so great and wonderful and fuel to get through the lows.  I worked out today and it was awesome!!  Third day this week, not sure I've done that since starting chemo.  I also worked out for 16 minutes in a row.  Also not sure I've done that since starting chemo.  My math skills have yielded the following equation: Chemo = WOD/2  That is, I generally do 1/2 of the prescribed work, in weight and reps and rounds and time.  I have to play it smart these days.  I purposefully don't push my body to THAT point anymore.  It takes me a VERY long time to recover, like hours when it used to be minutes.  I can no longer take the mind over matter (body) approach to workouts as I pay a dear price for it.  So instead I use my math and I do about 1/2 of what everyone else is doing and I generally still feel pretty damn beat up by it.  Not today though.  Today I felt great!  It could be because I kept repeating to myself 'You are never out of the fight' over and over and over.  Or maybe it's just because I deserved it, I needed it and so I ran with it, literally, there was running today. 

Never Out of the Fight

'But no matter how much it hurts, how dark it gets or no matter how far you fall, you are never out of the fight' - Marcus Luttrell

It's not the same, not even close, not at all, but after watching Lone Survivor last night (I read the book a few years ago as well) this kept running through my head and I just had to get it down in writing, to remember it, always.

Allowing Myself Bad Days

I've been really struggling these past few days and I have kept mostly quite about it because I kind of just wanted to have a bad day, or a few bad days.  It's exhausting being positive all the time.  I know that sounds bad, but its true.  There are days when I really am positive and strong and awesome, more days than not.  There are days when I fake it until I believe it.  And then there are days when I'm emotionally and mentally just low.  I selfishly keep these days mostly to myself (can't hide from everyone though, Matt sees right through me) because I don't want anyone to try and cheer me up.  I don't want anyone to tell me how strong I am, tell me what an inspiration I am, tell me at least you __fill in the blank__.  I know I'm strong, I know I'm going to be okay, but in these moments, these days, I just want to allow myself, and be allowed, to feel how I feel.

I don't complain often, I don't want to.  I am positive, I am a fighter, I am strong, but right now I just want to complain for a few minutes.  Crossfit has been a big part of my life for over three years and has always been a place of empowerment.  Even on bad days in the gym I knew I was making progress, getting stronger, better.  It's different now though.  I'm not getting stronger.  I am getting weaker and at first it was humbling.  Now it is frustrating and annoying and maddening and stupid.  The chemo treatments are eating away at my muscle and taking away my lung capacity.  I LITERALLY cannot do today what I could do two months ago, and it pisses me off!  It's not a matter of working harder, mind over body; it's out of my control and I'm struggling with it.  Here is where someone says, yes but at least you are going.  And this is where I roll my eyes because they just don't get it.  I was always going, not going isn't an option.  Just let me be frustrated, you would be too.

I also have to deal with this pesky thing called phlebitis.  Basically, the veins where I've had chemo get hard and swollen and tender and red and inflamed.  It hurts to hold anything, to even have a sleeve touch my arm.  It seems to happen randomly, although is possibly tied to pull-ups.  I basically end up doing everything with one arm until it goes away because it is that painful.  The alternative is getting a port put in, a permanent line in my chest.  I only have three more rounds to go for the current course of treatment so I am going to be stubborn and stick it out, for now.

I wake up and my eyes are filled with eyelashes and eyebrows.  It hurts, it never feels good to have an eyelash in your eye, let alone several at a time.  And I never seem to catch them to make a wish, they are in my eye and then they are gone.  My head is constantly irritated, like my skin and the few hairs I have left are at war with each other.  It hurts, its annoying, it makes me self conscious.  My nose is painfully dry, bleeds every day.  I'm tired during the day and have insomnia at night.  I isolate myself because I don't have the energy to go do much and then I sit and few bad about the fact that I feel isolated.

I'm restless, I'm done, I want to move on.  I'm a planner and a control freak.  I don't know what's next after chemo round 6 is over and it really bothers me.  Radiation? Sure, but how much, for how long and when? More chemo?  Maybe.  Surgery? Unsure.

In my mind I've beaten this so why can't I just move on? 

I feel better.  I do.  I needed to vent, to be mad and upset and annoyed and sad and lonely.  If you know me at all, if you get me at all, then you know that this just needed to happen.  I just needed to lose my shit so that I can get my shit back together again and have a better day tomorrow. 

I am allowing myself to have these feelings, have a bad day and unfortunately that means all of you have to allow it as well.  Sometimes, being there for someone just means allowing them to feel what it is they are feeling without trying to fix it or make the feelings go away.  Its not easy, but it is appreciated.

As always, More Than Hope!  Halfway done with this chemo, no idea what's next, but I have More Than Hope.

On The Fighters Spirit

Life is filled with people who for a specific reason, season or lifetime enter our lives and leave such a lasting impact on us that we never forget them.  I have so many of these such people that I can't possibly write about each of them, but I am confident they know who they are and are okay with that.  In this season of my life, the cancer season, I have met so many people who love and support our family.  I have met cancer survivors and fighters, amazing people all around me.

During chemo round 2 I met Juan.  He smiled and laughed while I did my pistol picture, told me he would work out with me and we discovered we would have chemo together today.

 I packed up the dumbbells from CFS and headed in to chemo today having no idea the experience I would have.  Juan and his wife were there as promised and we all moved to a new area so we could sit together and talk.  Cindy, Kristina, and I joked around with Juan, laughed, acted like idiots, made chemo gang signs, took funny pictures, trash talked over who would finish chemo first (I finally won!) and made the most of what I refuse to allow to be a sad day.  

Quick set of 5 curls with our good/non-IV arms

Feel the burn!

My chemo gang sign (I had 3 chemo drugs, he only had 2).

Apparently his sad face from losing to me during chemo today!

Chemo day is just another day and one that is positive and ridiculous in a what lifts can I do with an IV pole kind of way.  However as I talked with Juan I learned that chemo day is also about chance encounters and meeting people who are fighters, fighters like me.  See we had all assumed Juan wasn't in there for something all that serious (on the cancer scale of seriousness that is).  He was too happy, too outgoing.  He just didn't act the part, the cancer part.  However it turns out that over a year ago Juan was diagnosed with brain, lung and bone cancer.  His doctor told him it was terminal and as he was checked in to the ICU they told him he wouldn't be leaving there alive.  As he is telling me this he looks me in the eye and told me 'I told them, I'm going home, I'm leaving here'.  As we talked he would look at me and say things like 'You and me, we're fighters, we will be ok'.  

He had radiation on his brain, lungs and hips and today was his fourth and final round of chemo for this treatment. He found out yesterday that he has NO tumors left in his brain, all but two very small spots are gone in his lung.  He is a fighter and fought and is winning!  Juan is an inspiration to me and I'm sure to the girls (Cindy and Kristina) and I hope is a mirror reflection of me and the fighter I know I am.  His energy was so positive and uplifting and it was so obvious that he embodies the fighters spirit.  I know Juan will be a friend for life and I so grateful that someone like him crossed my path.

Guardian Angel Puppy

This post has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Remi.  I am not rushing the grieving process, just letting it wash over me as it will.  Tonight I was overwhelmed with memories of Remi.  When we first adopted her Matt and I both fully admitted that we were a bit nervous about owning a pitbull.  However, she quickly showed us her heart was way more fierce and loyal than any other part of her body.  Because of Remi we got involved with a shelter based in Portland, Family Dogs New Life.  Because of Remi the following dogs were all brought in to the Gill household, loved on, cared for, provided some obedience, all to help them find their forever homes.  Each time I get sad I think of the lives she saved by being her and I can't help but think she is the Guardian Angel Puppy of the Gill household and for all of these foster dogs.  I just wanted to take a moment to share with everyone else as I sit and remember and miss our sweet Remi girl.

Jojo - our first foster dog. We eased in to the experience with a puppy.  Although I'm not sure you ease in to anything with a puppy.

Our second foster dog Nena.

Our third foster dog Kenna

Our forth foster dog Fanny (I fell in love with her while watching her try to steal a hamburger at an adoption event, I HAD to foster her after that!)

Our fifth foster dog Sweet Mama

Unfortunately I can't seem to find a picture of our sixth foster dog Twinkie.  We also helped foster number 7 and 8 (puppies again!).  Awful picture of the puppies but sweet one of my dogs

Thank you Remi for being you, for being am amazing ambassadog for pitbull and pitbull mix dogs everywhere.  There is a huge hole in our house and in our hearts, we miss you every day.

Easing In To My Thirties

It wasn't long ago (although it was pre-cancer) I was telling Matt I wanted a big celebration for our 30th birthdays.  Mexico! Or maybe Vegas! I wanted something big and loud and crazy to say goodbye to my twenties and hello to my thirties.  Our birthdays were anything but big and loud and crazy this  year and you know what? They were perfect!

Life has a way of pushing you, testing you, trying to break you and then giving you just what you need to do it all over again.  Earlier in the week Matt and I (and Po) escaped to the beach, my first time ever leaving Liam overnight! It was quite, peaceful, full of reflection and conversation.  In the midst of our pain and sadness it was the perfect get away.  

This year my birthday marked two months exactly since hearing the C word yet it felt much further away than that.  Plans for my birthday were simple and quite and spent with family and friends.  As I sit here this morning, now in my thirties, I realize that I no longer needed a way to mourn getting older.  Instead I'm celebrating it and what it means.  It means another day, another year, another decade (many many more decades) I can spend with the people and animals (can't leave them out!) that I love.  Getting older means I'm alive and that's a beautiful thing!  I might be sick right (virus sick, not cancer sick) now but within me burns this fire and passion for life that I can literally feel coursing through my body.  

Chemo round 3 is this week.  I am ready for it, possibly excited for it because I know it's working.  I believe it's working and I have physical evidence that it's working.  I welcome my thirties, I welcome chemo and good news and the highs and lows that come with life.  My motto remains the same, More Than Hope.

Choosing a good day

I haven't had a good nights sleep, well since Nov 18, 2013.  And with this cough, it has been the worse yet.  However this morning I woke up before my alarm, ah I mean Liam, feeling rested, renewed, happy.  I still have the cough, all the bad things are still right there in the shadows, but I woke up filled with this light, happy, fuck anyone or anything who tries to get me or my family down feeling.

I don't think I fully understood the weight I was carrying, waiting for that appt yesterday, preparing for bad news.  That weight has been lifted and a crazy amount of fuel has been added to my fire.  I want to go overdose on green shake and go play outside with Liam! Today is a good day!

I have an anonymous good deed Matt and I are working on, two actually and they make my heart SING!! Just because we need help during this season of our life doesn't mean others don't as well. Each day I chose happiness and use anything else as fuel for my fire. For as much as my heart hurts and has hurt this week I have that much more fuel in the tank, and that's a lot!

I try not to be the sappy friend or the know it all because I have cancer friend but one thing I know to be true is this: Life is full of choices and seemingly random events that 'happen' to us.  We can't clearly see our path on most days and we can't begin to understand why things happen the way they do.  We CAN chose how we respond, how we react.  We chose our attitude. Those choices effect not only ourselves but everyone and everything around you. Chose to focus on the negative and chances are that is all you will feel and see.  Chose to focus on the positive, even on days when it seems almost impossible to find it and that is all you will feel and see.  We have this one life here on earth and it's purpose is bigger than any of us can imagne and what comes next...well I think it's a reflection of how we lived and loved here.

Each day, each moment we have a choice and if I can teach anyone anything my hope is that you learn to find and embrace the positive and fight like hell for what's important! Life is a lot better when lived that way. 

Embrace The Pain and Burn It As Fuel

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey - Kenji Miyazawa

This week started off with a sucker punch to the gut .  I wish I had some deep insight in to the meaning of it all, the reason for it, but I don't.  I don't know why my aunt was stricken by a brain aneurysm but I do know she is a fighter and is making great progress and I have faith that she will make a full recovery.  I don't know why in the same day our sweet Remi girl was taken from us.  I'm heart broken, I can't get the image of her lying limp in the doorway, gasping for a breath out of my head.  It hurts so terribly bad.  She was such a sweet, gentle, carefree, young (only 4) soul.  It kind of feels like the universe was like, whelp you are handling this whole cancer thing a little too well so lets see how you handle this!  I'm sure that's not the case, but that's what it felt like. 

I've given up trying to understand the whys behind everything.  It's not a pretty road to go down and isn't very helpful in the end.  There is so much in this world that we will just never understand and this week was a not so polite reminder of that.  In all of this I refuse to feel sorry for myself.  It honestly isn't even a feeling I have to fight to not feel.  This is my reality, each day, each moment is what it is going to be.  Not every moment is good, some cause pain, but more are good than aren't.  I'm rambling, I've been at a loss for words lately, but my father-in-law said something to me that really stuck.  You are either a fighter or you aren't.  I can't explain how I've been able to stay positive during these past two months, I honestly don't know.  But I think it comes down to that, it comes down to the fact that I am a fighter.  My heart still hurts, I miss that sweet little dog so much.  I visit her little grave in our backyard every day and talk to her.  But I'm a fighter and while I can't understand why she was taken away from us, I do know that the only thing in my control is my attitude and my fight.  The hurt fuels the fight.

I turn 30 in two days and my birthday this year also marks two months exactly from when I was diagnosed.  Today I received the best present I could ask for, good news!  Finally!   It has been two months since we have received ANY good news as it relates to this whole stupid cancer thing.  On Saturday I turn 30, I'll be bald, but I am well on my way to winning this fight!  My doctor was unable to feel the lymph node in my neck.  This was a lump every doctor was able to feel immediately and spent lots of time comparing to the one on the right side.  Today he couldn't feel it.  That means it has shrunk, which means the cancer cells are responding to chemo.  That is the BEST news we could have received today!  My tumor, while still the same size, looks better and my cervix is returning to more of a normal state, which means the tumor is responding to chemo as well.  My doctor left the room smiling!  When you are 29 and diagnosed with cancer like mine, doctors don't smile all that often.  I still have more chemo and radiation and possibly surgery down the road but I'm winning and will continue fighting with everything I have.


Sweet Remi girl, we miss you and love you so much.  May you Rest in Peace.

Being Defined

I get really awkward when I meet a cancer survivor.  They can spot me in a crowd pretty well now, tend to come up to me, tell me about their story, their hair loss, their survival.  Their rounds, their doctors, their diet, their pain.  I never know what to say though.  I'm clearly part of this whole cancer club.  I didn't ask to be part of it, but I'm part of it nonetheless.  Those whose memberships have been upgraded to gold plated survivor are quick to welcome new members, offer words of wisdom, give a quick look that all too quickly expresses pain, suffering, strength and survival.  They are great and yet I am so awkward.  I don't know what to say.  I don't want to be one of them.  I'm not the same, I'm not one of them. I'm not cancer.  

I'm not defined by this yet whenever I meet a survivor I feel like they are the quickest to define me in terms of cancer.  Stage.  Round.  Hair loss. Doctors. Chemo. Date of diagnosis.  Remaining treatments.  All just ways of defining me in terms of cancer.  They mean well. They have survived and that's amazing and a miracle and at the same time I can't help but shy away, get awkward.  I don't know what to say, what to ask.  I don't want to be talking about cancer with complete strangers.  It becomes so personal so quickly.  Like they know.  They know a secret that is between just them and me and we have this club and I just don't know how to handle it yet.  

I guess in the end, being defined by cancer from cancer survivors is no better than being defined by it from anyone else.  And maybe what I struggle with the most is that these survivors likely know people that weren't lucky enough to join their ranks and when they look at me I can see that in their eyes and I don't want to see that.  I don't want shared pain, I don't want those looks that last one second too long that hold such sympathy and emotion.  

I don't mind my bald head but I mind those eyes and those looks.  They light a fire in me though because anything that looks like pity is fuel.  Pity, sorrow, just makes me cringe.  I hate it.  I don't want it and I suppose survivors offer it because who would ever want anyone to go through this kind of a hell? They unfortunately know it better than anyone else and they can't hide it in their eyes.  I want to be a survivor but I don't want that to be the definition of who I am and so I find myself hiding away from anyone in the know.  I feel badly for it.  I know there is much to be gained from all of the stories of strength and survival, it's just so very awkward for me right now.  

I'm just sick of this whole cancer thing already.  I am so done with thinking and talking about cancer and yet my coversations, my thoughts always end up right back here.  

I'll be an amazing survivor and I'm sure I'll have the same eyes and the same look that makes me feel so awkward right now and I'll laugh as I read back to this post and think what an idiot I am to have even been bothered by any of this.  I have no doubts about it.