Round 5

Miss Discipline and Cruel Intentions

 

Miss Discipline after a bout

I’ve had a tougher recovery with my last round and not as much drive to post or write. However, this is from my journal on Round 5.

Who knew when I moved to Utah in the 3rd grade that I would meet the people who 28 years would not only become my best friends but my village as well.

I met my friend, Erin, in the 3rd grade. We’ve been friends through the easy and tough times; moving, careers, pregnancies, parenthood, and roller derby! When I told her about Lola, her reaction was,”Ok. That sucks but you can do this. I will be there, too.” And she has from listening to me complain to taking my son for a few hours on Saturdays.  I knew she was the right one to be in my corner for Round 5!

Typical to rest of my treatment days, I followed my nutty routine and ate my scrambled eggs. Derek and I headed to the hospital just as the nerves settled in and the Lorazpram hasn’t.  Derek talks to me about random things and keeps me calm so I don’t completely break down. We arrive and meet with my oncologist who is now ready to start talking about the next step, surgery. I hear bits and pieces but I get hung up on a new fear…the lengthy recovery from two major surgeries and 5 weeks of radiation.  I had pushed this aside to focus on making it through chemo and now it is becoming a very near reality. I thanked God that Derek was with me and could explain everything to me again when I was ready to really listen and make some decisions.

Erin joined us a short way through treatment bouncing in with her great smile and chatty self.  Not bothered by the somber atmosphere, she settled in for some needed conversation and terribly unhealthy snacks. Treatment days are the last day that I have any taste for about a week.  So, I treat them as a day to eat whatever junk food I  can enjoy…could be why I got a little sick to my stomach this time!  The treatment seemed to drag as the nurses were extremely busy trying to attend to the very full room.  Just as I was getting cranky, Erin jumped into the chair and took a few photos.  We laughed and gossiped and before I knew it, we were walking out and heading to one of our favorite spots, Meditrina, for tappas.

In roller derby, if you’re a blocker, you skate in a pack, close, tight, and strong. If you’re the jammer, you count on your team to protect, guide, and get you through the opposing pack to score without being harmed. I was always a blocker…these past few months, my team have been my blockers and it feels good to “jam” through to a win. One more round, Lola. My pack is too strong to let you through. Thanks Cruel Intentions for having  my back today and for the last 28 years.

Round 4

Downhill from here. Lola our fight is clearly running out. You are neither as nasty as you appeared nor as tough as you think.

Round 4 today, and I am ready. Armed with one of my best friends, Angelina and hubby Derek, I head to the treatment center with a vicious determination to push past the halfway point.

As always, I am anxious and nervous. Word of my quirks already reached Angelina before she arrived. After double checking that I ate my scrambled eggs and toast, she loaded me up for the ten minute drive that inevitably results in a few meltdowns, a little laughter, and a phone call to my mom and dad.

We start with more positive news that Lola is still shrinking and we are on schedule to move forward with surgery late August. I am always so thankful to have someone with me for these visits. There are moments when I am not sure if I am hearing correctly or dreaming.

We make it to the treatment room where Angelina walks me to a seat by the window and calmly settles me in. Before I know it, I am hooked up to the IV and Ang and I are chatting , laughing, and reminiscing. And then in true Angelina fashion, out came the Doritos. For as long as I’ve know her, she has always had a fondness for Doritos and when she dug them out of her bag, all I could was laugh. It was the perfect time to have her jump in the chair for a quick couple of pictures. Derek was able to witness this silliness before he had to leave. I think he left knowing I was in very capable hands.

The hours flew and another round won! We walked out arm and arm smiling. We headed out for another hour of time together and I introduced her to beer cheese and pretzel bread. Could I have asked for better finish to a very long day…I don’t think so. I got home in time to help bathe my little ones, read books, tuck them in, and curl into Derek in the couch. Peace all around.

Thank you, Angelina, for fighting with me today. Lola didn’t know what hit her.

Listen for it…

I realize I haven’t posted about my last two rounds of chemo and I will. They were extremely memorable days and ones I like to share. However, I could’t go to bed tonight without telling the world that tomorrow marks my last day if chemo! I am filled with anxiety, excitement, relief, anticipation…pure joy.

18 weeks ago I started this fight and so many joined me making the weight that much lighter. During this journey I have reconnected with the most brilliant and beautiful people, spent priceless time with my family, fallen deeper in love with my husband, watched my children grow, and learned to accept help and to let go. Quite the ride so far. Who knew Lola would bring such gifts.

It is tradition to ring a shiny brass bell as you leave your last treatment. With each treatment, I have been priveledged to listen to that magical sound and watch the happiness that fills the one who rang it. I am ready. So, tomorrow around 5p.m. be listening for the sweet sound of the brass bell. I will be ringing it for all of us!

l

Be extraordinary

Do something extraordinary (extra-ordinary) today. Offer a smile to a stranger, make an effort to change a negative thought or action, start a strand of good deeds by helping someone else. Do this without expecting any recognition or reward and I could easily promise that the world will pay you back!

I know this because I just spent the last 10 days with my extraordinary family; parents, siblings, nieces,and nephews, in the UP (upper peninsula, Michigan) and witnessed the world paying us back each day.   It was such a therapeutic vacation.

After a late and long flight to Grand Rapids, Michigan, an excited and restless sleep, and a 6 hour drive North the following day the huge Cereska clan pulled into our resort for the next week.  The view was so peaceful.  The lake just deep enough and calm, the green space so soft and lush and perfect for running, and our cabins were quaint and close enough for the kiddos to feel safe and to wander over and visit each other. After unloading 5 cars, a trailer, and multiple Tule boxes, each cabin was equipped with more than enough supplies to last the week.

Derek and I watched as our children grew up in front of us. Emelia finding and exploring her new freedom and fearlessness as she swam, ran, climbed, and tasted every inch of the beautiful green space. And Rourke, with his new mohawk, finding his confidence took a huge leap as he swam, climbed, explored, and fished wish his older cousins. All of the 10 cousins played and interacted so well together.  Never once did they ask for video games or tv nor did they wander around complaining they were bored. Quite the opposite unfolded.   Their imaginations, cooperation, and energy filled the hours and our hearts each day.

The kids weren’t the only ones who let go of their phones and laptops, the rest of us did too. During the day, if we weren’t visiting a black bear refuge or taking a day trip to Mackinac Island, we were soaking up the sun on the beach, reading a forgotten book in the shade, or taking walks and stealing moments to share private thoughts.  And in the evening after the bustle of the day and the toasting of  marshmellows subsided, we tucked our little ones in bed and met around the campfire to talk, laugh, dream, and reconnect until the wee hours of the morning, only to stumble back to our cabins for a little sleep before the campsite awoke once again.

Mom and Dad, I know you loved every minute of this vacation, too.  I also know that there is no real way to thank you for such an amazing time.  You offered me a tranquil space where I could let go and allow some of the heaviness to drop.  You and everyone made this vacation a memory of a lifetime.  Thank you.

 

Round 3

Sarah and I celebrating after running the
Las Vegas Half Marathon

My sister, Sarah, called one day and asked if she could come for a visit. Of course I said yes. Then she asked if 17 days was too long.  I smiled and laughed a little. We spent most of our life sharing a room with a piece of tape down the middle and now I would consider her one of my closest friends.

She arrived on a Thurday with excitement and energy. With her suitcase stuffed under a twin bed, she nestled right into our family and our hearts. She instantly picked up our routines and quirks and quickly became my right hand. If I said it, she was doing it and if I thought it, she was taking notes and emailing them to me. My very own personal assistant!  She was so gentle with Rourke and Emelia, creating a trust and bond they will have forever.  She also made time to have be a new ear and voice for Derek.

It was fun to watch her interact with my family.  So much of her/my style comes from our mother. Listening I heard the same words and phrases that brought so much comfort and many smiles.  It felt right to have her and fortunate as well.

During the weeks that she was here, we managed to have an outdoor adventure in Park City including an alpine slide and zip line ride, a night in a cozy cabin, and an early morning hike. We also managed to squeeze in some needed boutique shopping and cafe lounging.  Not to mention the many creative ideas and places we took the kids. Unfortunately, mixed in with all these excursions, were 11 trips to the hospital. Yes, 11 in two weeks. She became my wound care nurse as my first port became infected and needed to be changed and dressed, she was my taxi driver, nutritionist, and therapist. Big shoes to fill but nothing she didn’t do with a ease and calm.

Round 3 came during the middle of her visit. I tried to prepare her for my idiosyncrasies that unfold on the day of and what I expected and needed from her. She smiled, held onto me, and said, “Lets go kick Lola’s ass.”

We had to meet with my oncologist first.  When he walked in, he asked if Derek would be joining and Sarah lifted her notebook with his list of questions and she answered,”He’s right here.”  The exam went well. The tumor is still shrinking and moving and I was cleared to travel to Michigan to see my family for a week.

After the Q &A portion with the oncologist we were ushered to the chemo room. It was either extremely crowed that day they the nurses remembered my last treatment and how hyper I got because the escorted us to a private room. It was nice and private and a great opportunity to really talk. It didn’t, however, stop us from getting silly and a little loud. Of course, I made her jump in the chair with me and snap a photo which she did with grace and laughter. We left smiling and walking out, flipping Lola off as we left.

Her time with us was priceless. The bond she solidified with Rourke and Emelia will never be broken, the time and ear she lent Derek were very welcome, and  the love, support, and compassion she showed me will forever be motivation to give back. I love you, Sassy, thank you for such an amazing time together.

“Lean on my faith, today…”

“Lean on my faith, today, if yours isn’t strong enough.”  That’s what my mother said to me yesterday and exactly what I needed to hear.  Somehow, I allowed the fear of Lola or some other cancer returning and attacking again in my life to take over my thoughts and with that came the fear and sadness of not being able to experience all life has to offer. It was a lonely feeling to watch the day from the outside.  Wondering if those around me were really appreciating the gifts in their life and wanting to shout, “Embrace the day and don’t waste it!”  I needed to be reassured, to be comforted, and to be held. So, of course, I called my mom.  Just as she has done my entire life, she scooped me up, told me she was strong enough for the two of us, and promised me I would never be alone.  Not in this family.

I have a huge family.  in my immediate family there are 9 of us, 6 siblings and my two proud parents.  I can extend this clan to many cousins, aunts, uncles, and of course, my truly remarkable nieces and nephews.  Growing up we took advantage, teased and taunted, embarrassed and disgusted, yet loved and supported each other.  We were each others biggest enemies and greatest fans.  As loud and hectic our home could get, we knew our family would always be strong.  I cannot remember one of us going through a tough time without the support, love, and help from all of us.  I came across a letter I wrote to my family about 8 years ago when my younger brother  was sent on his second hardship duty with the army and his first tour to Iraq. I was asking my family to pull together and support him and each other.  He made it home safe twice, after two tours in Iraq.   This was attached.

“Thank you for the many miracles and understanding.  

Help me to find strength and cherish the simple gift of life.

Help me to accept and embrace the unconditional love from those in my life and teach me to love without conditions.

Allow me to take each day with a new breath, stronger faith, open mind, giving heart, and loving hands.

Above all, remind me that in family there is unity, in unity there is strength, and in strength there is peace.”

My family has pulled together once again.  Only this time it’s to carry me. Whether you pray to a higher power, lean on Mother Earth, or choose to accept fate and whether family means immediate relatives or friends along the way maybe these words will offer some strength and peace…

Thanks, mom, I love you.

 

I have such an admiration for writers and their ability to share their passion through words.  I also admire those who blog and blog often.  I have yet to discipline myself and dedicate some real time to write on a regular basis.  Part of me must be resisting technology as I still journal with pen and paper, make lists on the back of envelopes, send handwritten letters in lieu of emails, leave love notes in lunches,  and  “write” my lesson plans.  I realize that I have an iPhone, iPad, and computer to do all of this for me, but I still enjoy the feeling of fluid writing and seeing my thoughts freed on paper.  Unfortunately during these treatments, it is getting increasingly harder for me to write for more than a few minutes at time as my grasp is weakening and my arms are heavier than ever. So, I guess I will allow a little technology to help me out so I don’t lose the calm writing brings me.

People ask how it’s going and I realize my usual reply is something like, “better than I expected or it’s livable.”  Both very true statements but to share honestly, I would have add that I feel trapped and confined. My body gets tired before I am ready to be through for the day. There are days when I can’t hold a glass of water let alone my daughter.  My favorite foods are tasteless.  I have hot flashes.  I get moody.  And there are days I wish I were alone so I could just “be” and ignore my life completely.

There is a point in each day that one or more of these confinements swoop in and try to dominate my day.  If I allow them to then my day fills with discouragement and lack of motivation which turns into wallowing and moodiness.  All of which not only wastes my time but also adds frustration to my list.  I love my life.  I love to contribute to the day and embrace what it has to offer.  I love to explore with my children and watch as they experience life for the first time.  I love to believe that Lola is just an annoying distraction that doesn’t deserve my time.

I have always thought positively.  I look for the good in hard situations.  I believe that I am surving and winning this fight because I surround myself with happiness and embrace the goodness of everyone around me. I feel your support and energy.  It is what carries me.  So, please forgive me if I don’t dwell on the things I cannot change.  I’d rather spend my time laughing!!

Feeling Thankful

Good friend Scott taking advantage of our photo booth.

Last night was my husband’s 40th birthday and to celebrate I threw him a party and pork extravaganza! (accompanied by a “Pin The Pabst On Derek” life size poster) We worked all day preparing, cooking, and anticipating our friends’ and family’s arrival. Side by side Derek and I worked both feeling energized and excited to spend some “kid free” time together and with friends.  We needed a night to let go, eat too much, maybe drink too much, and laugh until our sides hurt.  It turned out to be that and so much more.

The menu, pork infused everything, including pulled pork sliders and bacon wrapped pork tenderloin to chocolate bacon brownies and bacon flavored popcorn. I realized while creating and shopping for the menu that if you look hard enough, almost everything can be found with bacon in it.

Our friends arrived smiling and ready to enjoy an incredible summer night.  Conversations bounced from politics, life, and love, to tales of parenting.  Between engaging in this chatter and catching glances from Derek throughout the night, I felt like life was exactly where it should be.

The night ended at 2 a.m. a  few scattered beer bottles and leftover morsels of pork and no thoughts of the next day’s responsibilities and schedules.  I would never have been able to pull this night off without the help of Coach, my beer guy, Paul, my DJ, Heather and Scott, my art designers, my sister Sarah, personal assistant and brainstormer, and everyone who toasted Derek and made last night another priceless memory.

HAPPY 40TH, my love!!!

Round 2

Me and Heather trying out the chemo chair 

Somewhere in cyberspace the original post from this day is dangling. After doing my best to recover it, it is lost. Round 2 of chemo was such a memorable day that I will do what I can to recreate it.(Round 3 to follow).

Heather, our friendship of almost 30 years is still full of spontaneous and incredible moments.  Thank you.

Round 2- T vs. Lola

It is a hard favor to ask your best friend to spend 5 hours sitting next to you while you’re getting poison pumped through your system but I did anyway. Heather not only agreed but expressed she was looking forward to some time with her friend.

Our original plan was to get together beforehand and grab some lunch or something then head off to the hospital. However, anxiety and nerves took over and I convinced Heather that making scrambled eggs and toast would be just as satisfying as anything we’d order. She understood my crazy need to do exactly what I did for the first round as to not jinx the outcome. So we scrambled some eggs, made random chatter, and tried not to think about the chemo but about our friendship.   I realize, at these moments, that I am so blessed with friends and family who truly love me unconditionally and that is a gift I will cherish always.

I tried to give Heather an idea as to what to expect. I told her once we got into the car, I would become useless.  Even though this is not a totally new experience, I am still overwhelmed with nerves, fear, and anger. Her job, listen to what the doctors and nurses say so she can report back to Derek, hold onto to me in case I crumble, and direct me to a chair, preferably by a window.  I know she was nervous but as expected my rock and support.

We saw the doctor first. He was very happy with the way treatment was going and was excited when he felt Lola and thought she had shrunk. Victory!! I think Heather may have jumped up from her chair and clapped but I was lost in my own world of happiness to notice.

After meeting with my oncologist it was off to chemo we go. Not only did Heather do a meticulous job of taking notes but she also found us a warm sunny spot to reside for the next few hours.  We were just commenting on some Hollywood gossip when we heard the sweet sound of the big brass bell ring, patients (fighters) ring this to signify their last treatment.  With tears in our eyes I say,” The whole hospital is going to hear me when it’s my turn to ring that bell.”

We talked about kids, husbands, life and the craziness it brings.  It felt natural and comfortable.  At times, I am certain we forgot where we were. At one point I dozed off only to wake up to a tray full of vending machine snacks.  Heather had wondered off while I was snoozing and stumbled upon,”the best vending machine ever!” Somehow she had found salty and sweet snacks that brought back memories from adolescence through our college years.  With every bite we devoured there was a story to go with it. We ate and drank our diet cokes until the sugar high set in.  Then the silliness and laughter escaped and we were certain we might be asked to leave.  Although, I think the nurses and other patients enjoyed the entertainment.  Heather asked if she could take a picture with me and I told her to,” Hop in!” The chair is huge and we fit just right.  We laughed as we posed and tried to get just the right angle.  We laughed as we held onto each other.  We laughed as we imagined being somewhere else. We laughed our way out the door. I will add this day to the very long list of perfect moments.

Lola,  you’ll never win. Especially when my corner is so full. Walking out again today! And stepping on you as I go!

An amazing race

getting on train before Race For The Cure

I woke today at 5 a.m. in hopes of getting my entire family plus my brother out the door by 7:10 to make a 7:25 train.  It is Race For The Cure day and Team Teresa is out in full force.  My good friend, Misti, somehow rallied and organized 40+ friends and family to  run/walk a 5k, ordered t-shirts for everyone, actually got everyone to arrive on time, and then fed us all after the race. It was an amazing day.  I could’ve kept walking with all the strength and love I  felt from the crowd, my friends, and my family.  The sun was out, families were drawn together, and the energy was so positive.

We were in blue, my favorite color.  “Team TERESA” ran down the back and “Whoever said winning isn’t everything never hand cancer” on the front.  You couldn’t miss us;  big pockets of blue scattered among  a huge ocean of pink.  I watched as tears were shed and smiles spread wide.  So many stories in this crowd and so many who believe in this fight.  People always ask how  I am doing.  I had thought I’d become a little bitter with the way the world treats each other.  Confused as to why people cause pain and forget to show compassion.  Then Lola came into my life and on a day like today, I am reminded just how good people are and how strong we are in numbers.  For all those who walked or ran with me, thank you for not only supporting me but so many others.  For those of you who couldn’t make it, we felt your love.

As if the race wasn’t enough, later that night, Derek and my brother Frank and I decked out in our best 70’s attire attended a murder mystery party at my best friend, Heather and Ken’s house.  It was quite the fab and funky party. We ate, drank, boogied under a disco ball, and tried to solve a murder. It was a night to remember. Somehow I lasted until late into the night (when lately I am asleep by 8). I felt as healthy and normal as I had in while.  As Gloria Gaynor belts out so beautifully, ” I will survive…” Today was a day filled with life and energy. Gratitude fills my soul.

Peace and love