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.

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

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.

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. 

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.