Surviving....

"She stood in the storm & when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails."


If there is one thing I have learned it is that surviving takes strength! We are all surviving and no matter what we are living with or living without, it takes an enormous amount of strength. And at sometime in all of our lives we have to adjust our sails!

As I start to adjust mine yet again, I am trying to hold onto the strength that has gotten me to where I am today. Some days that is easier then others but no one ever said that life was easy.

As I start another round of treatment in hopes of preventing anything new from growing where it's not supposed to, I am reminded that surviving is the only choice I have. The fight is far from over but that in the end I will win. I'm to damn stubborn to not!

Now I would love to say that my glass is always half full but that would be a big fat lie. There are days where my glass is not only half empty but completely dry. Where the frustration takes over and emotions run wild. Where walking from upstairs to downstairs takes all the energy I have. Where the thought of eating just becomes exhausting. Where the thoughts of "enough is enough" are hard to fight off. Where the will to fight is hard to find.

BUT......

Those never last to long.

Something always hits me at just the right time and my glass begins to fill back up! I find the strength and the energy to go up and down those stairs a few more times and tell myself that I'm the one who wanted a two story house. I begin to think of all the things that I can eat without guilt. I savor the taste of food and take advantage of midnight snacking. I start to let the thoughts of "you can do this" take over. I am reminded that everything happens for a reason and that this is just another part of my story and that I must trust this journey. I begin to see my strength again and begin to love the fight.

I need no reminder but I am constantly reminded on how blessed I am to be surrounded by so many amazing people who give me the strength to take each day as it comes and to look on the bright side of it all! It continues to give me the will to fight and the hope that one day this fight will be over.


So as I adjust my sails, I am reminded that surviving is the only choice I have.


http://www.the3day.org/site/TR/2014/DallasFortWorthEvent2014?px=1330784&pg=personal&fr_id=1861

Escaping Cancer....

Escaping from cancer seems impossible at times. It seems to follow me where ever I go. In my body or in my mind, it has followed me for almost 20 years now. So when I find that escape, I grab it and hold onto it for as long as I can.

Walking the Susan G Komen three day (60 mile) walk is an escape from cancer for me. I know that may sound crazy but it's true!

When cancer has touched your life the way that cancer has touched mine, you need time to heal. Not just physically(which if you ask me is the easy part) but emotionally. The emotional scars are far worse then any scar that you can see on my body.

I learned that walking 60 miles in 3 days, surrounded by pink was my escape when I did my first walk 6 years ago while undergoing treatment. I knew my body was weak. I knew that my heart was hurting. I knew my mind and body would be tested. What I didn't know was that I would come away from it stronger then I knew possible. My feet somehow walked all 60 miles. My heart was slowly putting itself back together. And I learned that my cancer journey could help inspire others to never lose hope! And that alone is worth a million blisters and some sore muscles.

I honestly never knew what kind of impact telling my story could have. When I was asked to tell my story in front of 2000 people the second year I walked, I was so nervous. And not nervous because I was speaking in front of people(we all know I have not problem doing that=)) but because telling my story was me facing cancer head on. Having to write and speak about my scars and my nightmare was healing not only to myself but to everyone listening that it forever changed my life.

Cancer is scary. It brings fear into your life. It try's to take everything it can from you. It makes your body weak. It brings pain that never goes away.

BUT......

I have HOPE.

Hope that cancer will not follow me for the next 20 years.

I know the journey is long and that the fight is far from over but I know that every step I take only makes me stronger and only gives me more hope.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddUGINPOvmQ

Trust your Journey....

"Stay patient & trust your journey."

We all have different journeys in life. No two are alike. They may be similar in many ways, but we all have a different one. Trusting it is the hard part.

There is only so much that is in your control. Me being the control freak that I am, likes to control as much as I can but I am learning that I have to trust more then I ever did before. I have to let go of the things that I can not change. I have to believe and trust that something, somehow, will come from all the obstacles in my life.

My journey has had many bumps along the way. Some bumps bigger then others and there will be plenty more bumps to come but there is a sense of peace that I get with each bump. See each bump seems impossible at first. It hits you and knocks you on your ass and you don't know how you are going to get back up. It drains you not only physically but emotionally too (which if you ask me is sometimes worse). It brings fear that you didn't know existed. A fear, if you let it, that can paralyze you.

But..... If you replace the fear with trust, you can get right back up.

Now I am not saying that trusting is easy at all. It takes courage. It takes strength. It takes hope. It takes believing that life is not always trying to knock you down, even if it feels like it.

Trusting can be scary. It does take patience and I will be the first to admit that I am not the most patient person. But even when its scarier then ever, you must trust. It's those times that trusting is the most important.

There are times when you have no other choice but to trust. Take surgery as an example. When you enter the operating room, it is bright and cold. They transfer you to a cold, hard table and you get covered with warm blankets. There are all sorts of people walking around talking and getting everything ready. You stare at this bright light that is above you and try to not let the fear be the last thing you feel before they put the mask on you and you start to count. Now obviously there are surgeries that I have had that have been scarier then others. Some I wasn't sure if I would wake up from and some that I knew would be a longer recovery then others. But each one I went into trusting that this was all part of the fight.

I have had many surgeries, to many to count, and I know that each and everyone has helped me get here today. It has been a painful part of my journey. It has been scary at times. It has taken parts of my body that I wish I still had. But I have to trust that this is just part of my journey and that I have years and years to come because of it!

I have learned that when I lose my way that there are people right there, holding my hand, helping me to get back on track. And whether I make it easy or difficult, I know that trusting my journey is the only way to go through life.

So even though it can be scary and you don't always know where the road will lead, trust your journey. It will be soooo worth it in the end!

The other side....

If they were to write about
The story of my life
They would have to mention you
With every page they'd write
There's another side to every story told
If I were the ocean
You would be the shore
And one without the other one
Would be needing something more
We are the shadow and the light............ Michael W. Smith

I have asked Ryan(husband) to be a guest blogger and give a little insight to what it is like to be married to "Cancer Girl"! I can not imagine fully what it is like on his side but I am thankful everyday that he is by my side.


"Cancer Girl" by Ryan Dowd

When Krissie first asked me to be a guest blogger for “Cancer Girl, The Blog” I had the same reaction that every other dutiful husband would: “What can I write that would make all of Krissie’s friends want to sleep with me?”

Now, I know that most of Krissie’s readers are women and that you are all mortified that a guy would think that.  To all of you, I offer two thoughts:

       1)   I do not actually want to sleep with all of you, per se.  A guy just wants to be wanted, you know?  (That argument sounded more compelling in my mind).

       2)  Your husband/boyfriend secretly wants your friends to want him.  If he says otherwise, it is probably because he wants to actually sleep with them.  (If you want to know other things he is lying about, send me an email.)

Because I was on my second beer, I explained my thoughts to Krissie.  She asked what I was going to do to get HER to want to sleep with me, because I was not helping the cause.

I told her I was serious… I could not think of anything that would make women swoon.  She said that no woman has actually swooned since the 1920’s (and no one has used that word since the 1950’s), but that I should write about what it is like to be married to someone who periodically has cancer.

Hmmm… that’s a tough one…  I am not really a “catalogue my feelings” kind of guy, but I like to tell stories.

It was October 1998.  Krissie and I had only been dating a few months, and I had taken a semester off from college to see her through cancer surgery.  I was 20 and she was 18.

The doctor warned her that the surgery would be long and perilous.  He was very adamant that he could not promise her that she would survive the surgery (she had a tumor in her stomach).  I suppose he was trying to cover his ass from a future malpractice case.

It was a morning surgery, so we had to be at the hospital in Chicago early to prep.

I remember we woke up very early—the sun was not yet up.  I don’t remember being afraid, per se.  It was not a paralyzing terror, but more of a clarity, an ‘awareness’ that heightened every sense in sometimes painful ways.  I am not sure if that makes sense, but that is how I experienced it.

When the alarm clock went off like a bell (was it tolling for Krissie?) I groped my way to the bathroom.  The darkness of the morning had a depth and substance that is hard to explain—as if you could stick your hand into it like a pool of oil suspended in the stillness.

Krissie and I both brushed our teeth quietly, taking turns spitting foamy mintiness into the swirling water.  It was icy cold when I rinsed, like tiny shards of ice on my lips.  I wondered if Krissie was aware that this was potentially the last time she might ever brush her teeth.  I was.  Looking at our reflections in the mirror it was obvious that neither of us had gotten much sleep.  We were old that morning, and not just physically.  Our souls were old (but not yet wise).

I carried her bag out to the car, stopping to take in the cloudless night sky.  The stars punctured the canopy, like so many rocks thrown through it by an angry God.  Was God angry?  It is a fair question to ask on the day that someone you love might die.  I was angry.  Sometimes I give voice to my divine resentment, but mostly I just hold it deep inside in a vial like the poison that it is.  I learned from this experience that our faith deepens in unimaginable ways when we treat God like a lover who has disappointed us rather than a lifeless idol that merely receives our offerings in exchange for rain or blessings.

We got onto Route 88 and headed east (weren’t Adam and Eve sent east of Eden?) There was almost no traffic.  It was fitting.  We were going down a road that people of our age rarely travel.  There is a strange “aloneness” that comes with facing the potential death of another.  Perhaps it is my introverted nature, but in the week before the surgery, I could be completely alone in a crowded room.  It is not loneliness, just aloneness.  There is a line in the song “Brick” by Ben Folds Five that captures this feeling: “We’re alone.  I’m alone and she’s alone.”  I suspect that Krissie, an extrovert, doesn’t experience this feeling.

 

And then the sun rose. 

 

It was absolutely spectacular, like watching the very first sunrise on the very first dawn.  And God spoke, “let there be light.”  Crimsen reds and molten oranges first bubbled and then poured out onto the horizon, spreading north and south, beckoning forth life.  I had never experienced anything like it before, and suspect that I never will again.  It was beautiful, but it wasn’t a gentle beauty.  It was a violent splendor, tearing at me (I still have the scars).  The sunrise—a vivid reminder of divine love and symbol of new beginnings—had no place on this morning, which might be Krissie’s last.  I would have preferred that the sun had not risen on that day at all.  But it was more beautiful than anything I have ever seen in nature.

The mystics speak of the “thin places,” where the gap that separates us from God closes.  That was not the first or last thin place I experienced, but it was one of the more profound.

That morning captures what it is like—at least for me—to be married to a 6-time cancer survivor.  Krissie’s frequent proximity to death heightens my awareness of life in a way that is simultaneously beautiful and terrifying.  I am more cognizant of human mortality than anyone I know (except, perhaps, Krissie).  Sometimes I experience it as anger, sometimes as awe, other times as gratitude. 

Krissie has taught me to drink from the cup of life deeply and to appreciate every flavor, even those that are bitter or sour.   I think I love more richly, forgive more quickly and laugh more loudly.  Life, as fleeting as it may sometimes feel, is glorious. 

Hope....

"Hope is the only thing stronger than fear."

If I let fear win, I do not believe that I would be here. Holding onto hope is all we have sometimes.

We all have fears. We all have something that makes our heart race when we think about it. We all have something to fear. But what we do with that fear is up to us.

I wish that the only thing I had to fear was snakes and spiders. That would be easy. But as we all have learned, life just isn't that easy. Life likes to throw us more then the occasional spider.

Fear can cripple you. Cripple you in a way that can destroy you. It can hold you back from life. It can stop you from moving forward. It can make you doubt everything that you have ever believed. It can make you speechless. It can turn you into someone you are not.

But....

Hope can kick fears ass!

Hope is the light that shines in your darkest moments.

I do not only believe in hope but I hold onto hope every single day. Without hope, nothing is possible. But with hope, anything is possible.

There have been many times that I have wanted to give up. Throw in the damn towel and say "enough is enough already!" But there is always something that pulls my ass off the ground and tells me to hold onto hope.

Every time I hear of someone losing their fight to cancer, fear kicks in and try's to take over. It makes me fear every bump and ache in my body. It begins to cripple me. It begins to break my heart. But then I stop. I take a breath. And I hope!

I hope that one day cancer will fear me and I will not fear it!

I hope that the scars on my body will become a distant memory of what I have survived.

I hope that the fears I have will not travel to my children.

I hope that some day no one will lose their fight to cancer.

I hope that one day we will all wake up and there will be a cure waiting there for us all!

I recently got "hope" tattooed onto my side. Now when I look in the mirror, I don't see the scars of the past but the hope of tomorrow!


When the world says, "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."

Dear Cancer.....

Cancer... I hate you... I thank you...

Today I sit down to right this with a very heavy heart. With tears in my eyes. With a piece of my heart breaking. But I sit down to write this because I have to continue to Hope. I have to believe in believing. Believing that there is light through all the darkness.

No one needs to be reminded that cancer is full of darkness. It's full of fear and sadness. It's full of more tears then you knew your body could even shed. It's digs deep inside your beliefs. It makes you doubt life like never before. It confuses you. It shreds you into pieces. It is full of questions that will never be answered.

But....

Even on the darkest days you find a strength that you didn't know you had. You don't let cancer just come in and win. You Fight! You wipe your tears, you pick up your pieces and you fight like hell!

Cancer makes you Stop! Dead in your tracks. It makes you open your eyes and really see what life is all about. It makes you appreciate life like never before. It forces you to do all the things you have always wanted to do. It surrounds you with people you wonder how you ever survived without them before.

Cancer has taught me to hope in a way I didn't know possible. Hope that tomorrow will be better then today. Hope that my children will not know this fear. Hope that no one will have to lose their loved one to cancer. Hope that there will be a cure. No matter what stage!

Right now cancer is taking another fighter. A fighter who through her fight has given strength to so many. She has made us all stop and smell the flowers.

To many know this feeling. To many have shed these same tears.

So from this darkness we must see the light. We must shine that light bright and fight like hell!



 




          

Life Lessons....

I have learned a lot about life in my 34 years!

Some I have learned the easy way and some I have learned the hard way! But each lesson has taught me something.

- Never take life for granted.

- Be kind to not only others but to yourself too.

- Be grateful for what you have everyday.

- Family will always be there.... no matter what.

- Children truly are a gift from God.

- Miracles can happen and do happen.

- Hair grows back.

- Laughter is the best medicine.

- Life is to short to spend time hating anyone.

- It's OK to fight with God.

- When it comes to going after what you love in life, don’t take no for an answer.

- Time heals almost everything. You just have to give it time.

- True love does exist.

- Crying doesn't make you weak.

- Whatever doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

- No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

-  If you don't ask questions, you will never know.

- It's OK to admit when you are wrong (even if it hurts to say it).

- True beauty is on the inside.

- Give yourself and others permission to make mistakes.

- Dream big.

- It's never to late to say "I Love You".

- It's good to face your fears. Jump!

- Children are stronger then we think.

- A house does not make a home. The people inside it does.

- It's OK to ask for help.

- You don't always know what you had until it's gone.

- A smile really can change the darkest day.

- True friends are always there...no matter what the distance between you is.

- That there is always hope and you must hold onto it.

- Things happen for a reason.

- It's OK to let your children see you cry.

- Don't compare yourself to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

- Forgive.

- No pill can take away all the pain.

- Be careful with your words. They can break or make someone.

- It's OK to be different.

- Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose but you must keep playing the game.

- It's OK to drink champagne for no reason at all.

- Don't judge a book by its cover.

- It's perfectly normal to eat the entire tub of raw cookie dough.

- Don't live with regrets.

- Sometimes you have to let go even when it hurts.

- You may have to fight a battle more then once to win it.

- Stand up for what you believe.

- It's OK to say No.

- Your never to old to dance.

- Bad things happen to good people and we will never understand why.

- Being a parent is the hardest job in the world.

- Life does go on even if it doesn't feel like it right now.


There are so many more lessons to come and I look forward to each and everyone because this life is worth each and everyone!