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.