Thursday, March 29, 2012

You're so simple

Dear Cancer-

The medical community might think I'm nuts, but I think you're simple. Spending time with kids shows just how simple you are. When I was diagnosed, my best friend's little girl Teagan, was three. When Teagan asked Crystal why she was upset, Crystal told her I was sick. As you'd imagine, the innocent questioning began. "Why doesn't her mommy just hug her? Why doesn't she just take some medicine to feel better? Why doesn't she just take a nap?" Through the online world, Teagan saw me lose weight, hair, eye lashes and eyebrows. She saw the funny bump and scar from a Chemo port. She asked more questions.  She wanted to know what hurt on my body.  Crystal told her, I was sick in my boobies.  She said doctors, much like her daddy, would give me medicine, but it would make my hair fall out.  Through treatment I'd get phone calls from Miss Teagan saying, "Don't be sad. You should be happy," and "Don't worry, Dan Dan, the doctors will take the buggies out of your boobies." In the eyes of a child, you were just some bugs. So simple.

Last night, as Teagan was playing on the floor she looked at me out of nowhere and said, "Dan Dan, do you have new boobies?" I said, "Yes sweetheart, I do." She said, "The doctors took those buggies out, and you got new ones." I choose to look at you like a child; simple, insignificant and not worth worry. Life is simply to fragile. I might as well, sit on the floor and play dolls with Teagan.


Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Quality People

Dear Cancer-

Shakespeare said, "Come give us a taste of your quality." When you surround yourself with quality people, you just might absorb some yourself. I work with quality everyday. MSgt Shane Wacaster, an elite Air Force runner, started a beautiful sentiment a year ago. His love for running, and care for a fellow Airman inspired him. Shane ran 67 miles with two tiny charms on his shoe in multiple races. He gathered five other colleagues to run races with a charm as well. Together they ran 140 miles with one goal in inspire me.

What they don't realize, if they did so much more. When I run my first half marathon since you entered my life on Mar. 17, I'll wear this bracelet. With each step, I won't mourn where I used to be physically, but I'll celebrate with I am now. With each step, I'll feel the jingle of this superb gift from friends, and appreciate this blessed body of mine.

Thank you, Shane, SSG Christian Foster, TSgt Charity Wascaster, Ms. CeCe McRobie, SSgt Rebecca Graney, Sgt Robert Dea and SSgt Michele Lacerda.


Friday, January 20, 2012

Another medical marvel...

Dear Cancer-

One in eight women gets breast cancer. Out of those, 10 percent will get triple negative breast cancer. Out of those, 80 percent are African American. Even though my friend Driece tells me she thinks I have a "little bit of black" inside, my parents assure me our families came from Ireland. With no history in the family and negative genetic tests, I'm simply a medical marvel. So, as my docs figure, I had a less than one percent chance of getting you at age 29. My mom says, she always knew I was a unique woman. I just wasn't expecting to be this authentic. Needless to say, I'm overall rare in the medical community already. I can't tell you how many times doctors had medical students looking at my charts over the past year and a half. Well, it's happened again my killing friend...

Last week, I was told I have two uteruses. Yep, that's right, two uteruses. In case you want the stat on that one, it's less than one percent of all women. It's called a bicornuate uterus, and mine happens to be as separated as they come. Also, in the same week I was told the trial drug I was on, Avastin which aiding in your killing, was black listed by the FDA for ovarian failure. Yep, five percent chance of that one happening. All in all, this news means we'll do more testing to get a good grasp on the size of my uteruses for a future pregnancy. My prayers are focused on a big beautiful uterus able to carry a baby full term! Silver lining, the ovaries are doing just fine these days.

To recap, I'm now a 30 year old breast cancer survivor who had a less than one percent chance of getting you, and I have two uteruses (insert baffled laughter here). Seriously, how can you not laugh about this? It's official, my folks conceived me on top of a nuclear waste site. You wanta know the best part, cancer? Out of all that news last week, there was zero sign of you lurking. That, is the information to marvel over. That, and nothing more.

With two beautiful big uteruses-