Before the Milk Spoils - Surviving the Drain is Just the Beginning

When I was diagnosed with cancer in 1999 at the flighty age of 19, I always thought that survival was the "happily ever after" ending I was supposed to strive for. Twelve and a half years later, I know better.

While battling cancer for 5 years, enduring many surgeries and finding the delicate balance between health and happiness was certainly the struggle of my life, the battle really began the day I was told I was cancer-free.

Sounds crazy, right? Perhaps, but it's true. You suddenly know firsthand how much you stand to lose, you worry about a re-occurrence and you begin your mission to make a difference in the world. After all, who wants their funeral to be full of people attending only out of obligation? (My biggest issue)

The more time that passes, these fears/goals/obsessions become more mild but they are forever rooted in our psyche. I will catch myself on occasion getting teary-eyed while looking at my sons. I have so much more to lose now than I did as a single, childless 19-year-old. The "what ifs" continue to haunt me.

I'm reminded of this side of cancer on days like today; the side nobody speaks of because we're programmed to merely express gratitude for surviving. An oncologist friend of mine and fellow cancer survivor found out he has the advanced stages of esophageal cancer recently. A man who has a beautiful wife and children, dedicates his career to helping those with cancer, regularly supports the American Cancer Society, conducts mission trips to Haiti and makes an immensely positive impact in the world. All the things we're supposed to do following the "happily ever after" ending of cancer survival, right?

Except, it doesn't seem so RIGHT. In fact, it seems so backwards that it makes my head spin. I'm a street corner hope-pusher and a firm believer in a positive outlook but the reality is that sometimes ignorance IS bliss. Before a cancer diagnosis, we live freely (although frivolously) but without the reality of an unknown expiration date. After a cancer diagnosis, we are like that borderline jug of milk that you have to sniff a few times, wondering if it's still good or if it's ready to dispose down the drain.

I guess all I can do is hope we complement one more bowl of Cheerios or provide one more splash in a warm cup of coffee. But, I'm lactose intolerant. Kind of ironic.

In Sickness and In Health

In a partnership, when we choose to marry, we take a vow to love one another "for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness or health"...or something with a very similar tone. We stand up before our friends and family, a notary or an Elvis impersonator and proclaim this love for all to hear.

When we have children, the vows are very similar, yet an unspoken demonstration. There is no growing to love your children like we often have to do with our significant other. It is an instant bond that trumps all others.

I was never supposed to have children. As a matter of fact, when I was diagnosed with cancer at age 19, my doctor wanted to do a full hysterectomy. That's a whole other story that many of you have already heard but when my first son, Isaiah, was born after 2 1/2 grueling years of fertility treatments, my world changed...instantly...and for the better. Here is this beautiful 5lb. 14oz. preemie boy, PROOF that miracles do happen, that faith is tangible and that hope is more than an emotion.

Six months later when his baby brother Micah was conceived (naturally), it was surreal, unexplainable and an amazing blessing. Weighing in at less than 5lbs., this little man was born a fighter much like his mother. Micah, now 15 months old, has been sick for most of his life. Respiratory issues with extreme fevers, hospitalizations, spinal tap, blood cultures and a visit across the state to a specialist has taken up much of his infant time.

I remember the pain, fear and confusion of being ill myself, and could have never imagined the spectrum of emotions that comes into play when it is your own child. I feel perhaps even more anxious because of the sequence of events that had to occur to create these babies!

I pride myself in taking one day at a time and trying not to get too overwhelmed with the "what ifs". But, it takes practice and determination, just like all things worthwhile in life.

As we wait for my little Peanut's results, I want to vocalize my love for my two boys. We don't get a ceremony to celebrate our love but Isaiah and Micah, I want you to know that I will always love you "for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health". It's through you both that I continue to grow, learn and conquer the world.

Salute!

Being Thankful is About More Than Just Being a Turkey

Thanksgiving comes around every year and we routinely express our appreciation for some of the positive aspects of our lives. It's a great little reminder to stop griping about every little thing that doesn't go our way.

We typically go through the motions of giving thanks for friends, family, health and the scrumptious food. But, what about the things that get overlooked?

For instance...I'm grateful for palm trees. Yup, palm trees. There isn't a negative thought in the world that can sneak its way into my mind while admiring palm fronds blowing in the wind. Really, it just makes me want a hammock.

How about...green lights? Just the other day, I hit green lights for an entire day in my travels. I slipped on my "S" cape and conquered the world that day.

I'm grateful for...my journey through cancer. (Let me explain, I promise I'm not a masochist!) I learned about immense physical and emotional pain and the experience pushed my thresholds to limits that far exceeded what I ever believed I could handle. I became stronger, smarter and invincible to impossibility.

And the giggles of children...there is no sweeter sound. When my boys get to the stage of absolute pure laughter that they can no longer control, it is infectious and musical. In my eyes, it is one of the seven wonders of the world.

I'm especially grateful this year for an invitation to be a positive role model for an amazing group of young girls at the Hibiscus Children's Center in Vero Beach. The Zen in the Den event allows me to teach these girls about journaling, the importance of processing emotions and to share my own journey with them. There is no greater gift to receive than giving of yourself.

So, before you cut into the turkey this year, take a few extra minutes to consider the blessings that may normally go overlooked. And, if you're a vegetarian, the turkey will join you in the good fortune.