one year

today marks one year.  one year since my diagnosis.  one year since the day that changed me.  changed us.  changed my thoughts, my character, my attitude.  i'm still so much the same person, but i feel adjusted.

i thought for a while about one word that best summed up this past year.  overwhelming.  emotional.  roller coaster.  heartbreaking.  family.  unexpected.  blessed.  it has been all of that for certain, but the one word that kept coming back to me was amazed.  how amazed i have been by the happenings of this last year.  amazed that my push to take my thyroid nodule out would turn into cancer.  amazed that i found strength to be away from my girls for 18 whole days.  amazed that our family had to endure even more heartache with my sister's cancer diagnosis.  amazed that michael and i found inner willpower and fight to train through 4 months of running to complete a half-marathon.  amazed that i actually finished a half, which i never thought i ever wanted to do.  and most significantly, amazed by the overwhelming and continuous outpouring of love, supports and beautiful gifts of friends, family and strangers.

i have 2 stories that have touched me so greatly this past year, and i want to share them.

over the summer, i was asked to meet an instructor at my daughters' swim school before one of our classes.  i've never met this instructor before, but we were linked through our swim coach, maggie.  she started following my story through maggie, through my photos on instagram, through here on this blog space.  we walked in the doors that afternoon and right up to meet kate.  kate was a young 20-something who was leaving for california that week, to be a nurse in the navy.  before she left, she wanted to give me something she had been working on since march, several months before.  what she handed to me and what she said still brings me to tears.  a beautiful quilt in pink, turquoise and purple, the colors of thyroid cancer, was given so lovingly to me and she told me how she felt touched by my story and wanted to do something for me.  i couldn't tell her thank you enough.  i was so in awe of this beautiful, young girl and the thoughtfulness that she possessed for me, a stranger whom she had never known.  so kate, thank you.  i look at that quilt daily, as we use it to warm us on a chilly day, or when we lay it out for a picnic, and i am ever reminded of your kind-hearted gesture and all the love you put into it.  it truly is amazing.

the second story happened just this week.  i am currently enrolled in a 4-week online photo class, something i have wanted to do for the past 4 years, but just never found the time or extra money to do, as the classes are definitely an investment of both.  but i turned 35 this year, and mentioned to michael that the one thing i wanted for my birthday was to take a class.  and it happened.  and i am loving it.  at the beginning, we share our story with the others in the class, and somehow, it came up about never being the perfect time to take a class, that our life is crazy busy, that the random thing i wanted to share about me was that i completed a half-marathon and i beat thyroid cancer.  odd to bring up now that i think about it, but it was fate.  a couple weeks into class, i received a personal message from a fellow classmate who lives in california.  she told me that she has 2 young daughters as well, and was touched by my story and was gifting me another photography class.  i sat there in tears reading her words, merry christmas from a random stranger.  kathleen, thank you from the bottom of my heart.  you'll never know how much that gift amazed me.

my eyes have opened.  my senses awakened.  i am learning to live my life as fully as i can.  yes, there are habits i'd like to break, things i'd care to change, but i'm human and i am not perfect.  i don't strive to be.  i strive to be enough.  i strive to be a patient, nurturing and forgiving mom, a loving and supportive wife, a listening and dependable friend, a hard-working and educated therapist, a random stranger who puts good into the world.  it's a balance.  i can't be all these things every day.  but i try.

last night, i returned to my favorite local studio for yoga after a brief hiatus.  my teacher never fails to utter words in each and every class that strike a chord within me and seem to be exactly appropriate and what i need to hear on that day.  she always tells us to forgive yourself when you fall out of balance.  to go a little bit further in the posture than you think you can.  to bring your mind back to where you are at that moment when it begins to wander.  and at the very end, to give your body a squeeze and love it exactly where it is.  i think i've learned to do so much more of all of that since last year.  to forgive.  to push myself.  to focus.  to love me.  last night, she then asked us to think of one empowering word or phrase, one positive to defeat all the negative.  and immediately it popped into my head.

i am enough.

thank you to my beautiful friend, laura, once again for these awesome family photos.
photos of harper + crosby individually shot by me. :)

13.1

i've never considered myself a runner.

yes, i've been running all my life.  on and off.  here and there.  soccer and basketball and softball practices of my childhood and teen years.  days long ago when my sister would be home from college on a break and she'd ask if i wanted to go for a run with her.  days when i'd latch key myself in the house and take the dog for a quick jog around the neighborhood.  i ran on the treadmill my last 2 years of high school, for health and beauty reasons mostly.  i ran my heart out in powderpuff football practices my senior year.  i ran around campus at michigan state, with friends and without, sometimes because i was late to class.

it wasn't until after harper was born that i wanted to run a race.  michael and i signed up for our first 5k, the detroit thanksgiving turkey trot, in 2009.  we trained for it, pushing harper in the jogger most times, but we left her with nana and papa for the actual race.  we ran it with michael's siblings, and it was tough.  i didn't think i could finish.  michael and i held hands as we crossed that finish line, so proud of that accomplishment after all of our hard work.  we signed up here and there for a few more 5ks after that, but nothing hard core.  michael ran a 10k in 2010.  i swore that was too much for me.

fast forward to my cancer diagnosis and my 18 days solo at my parent's house during my radiation.  i was itching to move, but couldn't go anywhere or be around people and it was extremely frigid outside (especially for a girl with no thyroid).  so one day, i hopped on their treadmill and ran.  it felt great.  so i did it again the next day.  and the next.  and it was there on that treadmill that i made the commitment to run a half-marathon.  i called michael post-run and told him.  he has always had the desire to run a half, so he was on board.  but he told me i should sign up before i changed my mind.  he knows me so well.  he also thought it might be a good idea if we made our run a fundraiser for the julian boivin courage for cures foundation, a foundation that began after friend's of ours lost their 5-year-old little boy to a brain tumor in 2011.  i liked his idea.

i signed us up in march, and we prepared ourselves to start training in june.  june came and i logged my first 2 mile run.  i won't lie, i struggled.  but i knew it was only 2 and i had to keep going because in just a few short months, i would be logging double digit miles at a time.  but june came and went and i couldn't get past 3 miles.  i posted on facebook asking for suggestions.  i made use of so many of them, and finally got to 4 miles on the fourth of july.  after that, it quickly went from 4 to 5 to 6 to 7 to 8 and 8 again.  we participated in a local 10k event, just so i could say that i did a 10k before jumping from a 5k to a half.

but then it stopped.  it was mid-august, i was nearing the end of summer break, and my heart just wasn't in it.  i ran a few short runs, but it was a month before i finally got around to a long run again.  i skipped the 9 mile run all together and just went straight for 10 to get back on our training pace.  10 went to 11 then 11 again and then 12.  and then it was 2 weeks pre-race.  we started our taper, a few moderate runs throughout the week and only one more 6 mile run before the big day.

we left the girls with nana and papa for an overnight and drove to grand rapids, directly to the expo to pick up our bibs.  we checked into the hotel, grabbed a pasta dinner with michael's brother, jeff, and his wife, megan.  (jeff was running his first full marathon the next day)  then we headed back for some good sleep.  i was ready.  i wasn't nervous at all.  i pictured myself crossing that finish line with 13.1 miles behind me.  i felt strong.

it.  was.  amazing.

it did not disappoint.  the trees changing colors.  the crisp, cool weather.  the energy of the crowd.  the motivation of fellow runners.  knowing the amount of money we raised for julian's foundation.  knowing that i wasn't only running for julian, but also for my sister, and all the life-changing events she has been through and the weight she has had to carry the last 6 months.

(heboo- you were with me in my thoughts every step of that race.  i love you more than you know.)

my goal was to finish in 2 hours, 30 minutes.  i crossed the line at 2:26:21.  i beat my time.  i accomplished something i never thought i could do.  and now i'm itching to sign up for my next one.  i've officially caught that runner's high.

i found a quote by nike founder bill bowerman that resonated with me...the real purpose of running isn't to win a race; it's to test the limits of the human heart.  this entire process sure did test every limit i could imagine.  i logged a total of 200 miles from june through race day, averaging 3-5 runs per week.  we raised over $2500 from family, friends, co-workers who wanted to show their support for us by supporting pediatric cancer research.  i taught one donation cycling class and participated in one hot vinyasa yoga class, both at which all participant proceeds went to the foundation.  i tripped on an uneven sidewalk crack right around mile 10 that could have ended in catastrophe, but instead i caught myself, steadied myself, and kept right on going, right to the handful of gummy bears waiting for me at the next aid station.  i sweat a whole hell of a lot.  i cried, during runs and afterwards.  my body ached and resisted more runs.  my knees started talking back to me more often.  i twisted and sprained my ankle near the beginning of my training.  my alarm clock jolted me out of deep sleep at 4:40 am for 5 am pitch black runs with my neighbor, sara, more often than i care to remember and it took everything i had to pull myself out of those warm covers.

but i did not lose any toenails in the process.  i did not quit.  and i did a whole lot of smiling.

don't compare yourself to others.  compare yourself to the person from yesterday.

lemons

as the saying goes...when life hands you lemons, make lemonade.  all well and good, and i have definitely become more of a lemonade-maker in recent years, but in the last few weeks, my family has been holding a whole lot of lemons and none of us know what to do with them yet.

just over 2 weeks ago, my sister and her family flew home from london for their easter holiday.  i couldn't have been more excited to bust through the door of my parent's house and into the arms of my sister, sobbing and hugging tighter than ever before, quickly feeling all the moments we missed with each other over the last 6 months.  all the holidays.  my entire cancer diagnosis and treatment.  but the visit had a gray cloud over it from the start.  heather found a lump in her breast a few weeks before coming home, and immediately had the feeling that it wasn't good.  she scheduled several doctor's appointments the monday after they arrived.  by tuesday, we were quickly thrown back into the cancer world.  it was confirmed that she had ductal carcinoma, and it was highly encouraged that she have surgery and that she stay in the states for the duration of her treatment.  within 8 days of being diagnosed, after numerous doctor appointments, phone calls, texts, e-mails, weighing decisions upon decisions upon decisions, she was in surgery for a double mastectomy.  our brother, chris, flew in for a few days to be with us.  and today, a week post-surgery, as she's oh-so-slowly healing physically, she had to say goodbye to her husband and her boys who are flying back to england to return to work and school.  they'll be back within 5 weeks, but right now, no one wants to make that damn lemonade.

so, here's where my head is at.  once she got this diagnosis, something became very clear to me.  the why.  the reason why i may have had to endure my cancer diagnosis and therapy.  i truly think it was for heather.  i think that God said, hey, i'm going to give you a little bit of this cancer thing.  it won't be much.  it will be small and it will be quick and you will heal.  but you need to know what your sister is going to go through.  and you need to be there for her and understand her in every sense of this journey.  and while my journey is a mole hill compared to the mountain that she is going to climb, i totally and completely and fully understand every single emotion that she has come to these last 2 weeks.  i get that she's scared and empty and lonely, even in a room full of people.  i understand that she is on a roller coaster of emotion and she doesn't know what decisions to make.  i have felt what it's like to feel the love of hundreds of friends and family through e-mails, texts and facebook messages, and yet feel so overwhelmed that you just want to turn it all off and not respond to anyone or anything.  i know how scary and apprehensive surgery and treatment can be and how you have to completely trust your doctors.  and i know the heartache of not being able to be with your children while you try to heal your body, and gosh, that is what hurts the most.  all of that.  i get it.  i don't think it's just a fluke that i received my all clear 2-months-post treatment scans only the day before her big surgery.  God absolutely had his hand in that.

all my life, i've been 9 years and 9 months behind heather.  she's done everything first and being the older sister, she had the responsibility (and felt it her duty) to tell me what i should do and not do.  save your money.  don't overspend.  date.  don't date him.  drive safely, and let me teach you how in the parking lot of a middle school when you're 14.  go to college and get a good degree.  graduate and gain some employment.  get married.  have babies.  i have looked up to heather for my entire life, and i've listened to every piece of advice she has doled out.  and i think this time, i had to do it first.  i am now engaged in every step of what she will go through and i can be the one closest to her to tell her, it's ok.  i've been there.  i'm here with you.  i'm listening.  and we'll do this together.

so, heboo, listen up.  it's scary.  it hurts.  it's not fair and it sucks so bad you want to scream.  but i love you more than you know and i am so grateful that i get to share this journey right along with you.  i promise i will stand by you whatever comes our way and we'll come out the other side of all this stronger and wiser and healthier and even more amazing mamas for our kids.  and one day soon, we'll sit together, we'll talk about this journey, we'll laugh, we'll cry.  and we'll be drinking a whole lot of lemonade.

home.

i am home.  and as exhausted as the last 2 days have been, it's a good kind of exhaustion.  i missed this.  i missed being a mom and breaking up arguments and running from room to room to fetch this or fix that.  i missed their never-ending hugs and kisses and i love you mom.  i missed being home.

i drove home saturday morning, and knocked on the door.  michael had told the girls that a babysitter was coming over for his doctor appointment.  from the front porch, the first thing i heard was crosby's sweet little voice.  mama!  is that mama?  michael opened the door, and i saw the brightest smile ever.  mama!  is mama home?  how are you feeling?  i dropped to my knees, swallowed her in a giant hug and kissed and kissed and kissed.  

harper reacted a bit differently.  she was more upset that michael had tricked her and told her a sitter was coming.  she pouted on the step and resisted a hug.  but she was excited to show me my poster, and the candy she bought for me as a homecoming present.

we didn't plan for much this weekend, nothing more than naps, playing, some light chores, reading, watching movies, dance parties, church, a trip to lowes, and just being together.  at breakfast out sunday morning, michael casually asked how i was doing.  i told him one word.  happy.

where i am.

i don't write these posts because i want others to feel bad or sorry for me.  this blog started out as a way to capture our first child's days before we even met her, so that we could share with family and friends who couldn't be near us every day our daily pics and her quick growing up.  i blog here so that in the future, my girls can look back and know my thoughts and our goings on from where we stand in this life now.  sometimes my posts are happy and sometimes they're not.  but they're real and they're mine and should others read along, i more than happily welcome that.  it makes me happy that my words can impact someone else.  i'm not a writer.  i don't claim to be.  i just love to write.  michael and my mom both tell me they learn more from my blog than they do from talking to me, and i think that's because this is like my diary.  several times in growing up, i started a diary, but never kept it up.  a blog is so much more meaningful for me personally to maintain.  and so i continue to document, because i truly enjoy doing so.

but i digress...

this last week has sort of been a roller coaster.  in terms of how i am physically feeling, the worst seems to be behind me.  an occasional headache here and there, some extra tiredness, an upset stomach or food not tasting the same has been about the worst of my week.  not too bad.  i started on a pretty high dose of synthroid over a week ago, but the doctor said it would be several weeks before i would notice much of a difference.

mentally and emotionally, though, that's where i've been hit hard.  i miss my girls.  a lot.  so much.  my heart aches when i think of them.  when i think of what they're doing.  of what i'm missing.  it sounds very morbid, and i apologize, but sometimes, i feel as if i'm looking in on what it would be like if this cancer thing didn't go so well for me.  luckily, i get to skype with the girls twice a day and they get to see me and see that i'm ok.  i get to talk lots with michael and check in with how his 18 days of single parenting is going.  but my mind wanders to dark places sometimes, and i really don't like it.

when i think of how close this could have gone from "the best cancer to have" to much worse than that, i crumble.  last week tuesday, the day of my radiation but before i had my dose, i sat by myself in the waiting room of the cancer center pharmacy and i watched.  i didn't bring my phone because i thought i was just coming for a quick anti-nausea pill, but instead i had to wait for a full zofran script to be filled.  and i'm glad i did.  i was surrounded by women and men who had been diagnosed with this awful disease, there by themselves or with family or friends.  and there were still smiles.  and sunshine was pouring in through the windows.  i could see there was illness, but i could also see a lot of hope.  it gave me some strength.  

but sometimes, i put myself back in that doctor's office, the one where she left it up to me to have my thyroid nodule removed.  and i chose to do so.  or i put myself on the day they told me the pathologist changed his diagnosis to follicular carcinoma.  and i chose to fight.  or i put myself in the doctor's office on the day they told me the scans showed metastasis to a lymph node.  and i got kicked in the gut but reminded myself that it hadn't gone any further.  but other times, i can't stop the what-ifs.  

i had my follow-up scans last week friday, which showed that the radiation is highly contained in the thyroid and in the lower lining of the stomach, right where it's supposed to be and kicking some cancer ass.  i met with the nurse per my request to make sure that all these icky symptoms were normal, and was assured they were.  so now i wait, with just over a week to go until i can be back home, and 2 months until my next scans.

i continue to receive so many e-mails, texts, cards, phone calls, gifts.  i continue to be amazed beyond belief by the love and generosity and thoughtfulness of so many friends and family.  i've received slippers and tea, candy and chocolates, scarves and body lotions, movies and magazines, journals and pencils, sunshine in a box.  it brings so much happiness and smiles.  and for all of it, i can't thank you enough.  and in addition, all those wonderful friends who are keeping my husband and girls well fed, thank you, thank you, thank you.

so what have else have i been doing this week?  i've been reading.  writing thank yous.  organizing files and paperwork that i took from home and just never found the time to do.  sorting through the girls' school papers and artwork.  watching movies.  consuming all four seasons of downton abbey (oh. my. gosh. so good!)

spending time with my mom and dad, talking about life and love and parenting.  skyping with the girls.  popping home for a quick walk with the pups.

watching a movie on my laptop over facetime with my sister in england.  

and finally getting the uninterrupted chance to go through the half a dozen boxes of mementos that my mom has held onto from grade school through college.  i purged a lot, realizing i don't need to hold onto everything.  my favorite box to go through was the one that held cards and notes and photo albums from my youth.  it brought back smiles and tears and memories i'd forgotten.  i also realized that every other card or note i read was from my mom, and how much love she shared with me, with all of us in our family, always.  i think it kept me on the straight and narrow, honestly.

one card stuck with me...on the inside, it said, "the secret to life is anticipating the rainbows."  all this that i've done so far has been an effort to keep my mind on purging this cancer from my body and on getting back home to be with my family again.  anticipating that glorious rainbow at the end of all this rain.  and we're down to single digits.  one little week left.  i can do this.

18 days, plus or minus

what would you do if you were given a gift of 18 days?  as a parent, i often think of what i could accomplish if i were given a day or 2, even just an hour or 2, by myself.  but when it's forced upon you, and in order to get it you have to give up a thyroid and hear the word cancer, it's a completely different story.  i'm trying to find the positive in this time.  learning to love my individual me time.  but gosh, it is so tough.  i've skyped with the girls each morning and evening.  i get stories through michael and my mom, and pictures through emily, the preschool teacher, and maggie, the swim coach, and heidi, my friend and neighbor, who took care of harper on her snow day.  they realize that i need as much of my littles as i can soak up, since i can't be with them directly.  and i am so appreciative of that.  i cry tears when i see them, but i crave it.  knowing i can't be with them for 16 more days is killing me, and i see it affecting them a bit, too.  but i can't for good reason, and harper knows that.  she tells michael that i can't be home because then she and crosby would get sick.  and basically, she's right.  that's not a chance i'm willing to take.  so michael has started a countdown and the girls have a visual to know just how much longer until i can love them up close again.

and as of today, i have 17 days of that low-iodine diet behind me and said goodbye to it last night with cheese pizza after i took my first dose of synthroid yesterday, which is finally putting me on the road to recovery and being back to normal.  the diet wasn't horrible, but i'm for sure done.  thanks for working your magic, low iodine, but i've moved on.  that last day at home, i was scooping peanut butter from the jar and topping it with jelly.  i couldn't do the matzo anymore.

i thought a lot about that first meal and what i would choose to eat.  i didn't want to overdo it, being 2 weeks off of dairy and processed and all things not bland, but i couldn't help it.  i went for gusto.  and felt a bit of a stomach afterwards.  could also be due to the radioactive iodine working its magic.  or it could be slightly contributed to the amount of sourness i've been consuming.  my cousin's husband went through this 5 years ago, and the 2 of them have been such a help in helping me navigate through this process, through the diet, through the radioactive iodine process, through the first few days afterwards.  they sent me a huge box of sour goodies to give me some variety.

so today.  today was crappy.  there is no way to sugarcoat it.  there was no sunshine out my window.  there was snow, there was thunder, there was lightning, there was ice and rain and slippery roads, from what i hear.  and in my solitary confinement, there was a headache, an upset stomach, extreme tiredness, a sore neck and difficulty swallowing.  all dang day.  today sucked.  it sucked big time.  there was a lot of sleeping.  there was a bit of eating because i felt hungry, but then felt sick afterwards.  there were showers with tears because i missed my girls badly. 

but...i get to snuggle with them in some little way.  my brother and sister-in-law, chris and stephanie, went to build-a-bear last week and created mini versions of my family in bear form.  michael, with his hipster glasses.  harper, pretty in pink.  crosby, with her perpetual missing shirt.  and maximus, our golden retriever.  the gift tag said "being apart from your family, we decided to create the things you hold dearest in your life in a cuddly way."  it was an awesome gift and surprise, and these 4 have hung out with me all day, helping me feel at least a teeny bit better.  and bringing a smile to my face.

until tomorrow, good night.

i'm radioactive, radioactive

{cue the imagine dragons.}  

it's wednesday and i am currently 25 hours into my radioactive status.  which means i've also had 25 hours of solo time in the lower level of my parents condo.  precautions primarily include that no one can be within 6 feet of me for 3 days.  it is preferred to have my own bathroom, my own space, which i do.  i have to be overly cautious of what i touch, keeping my hands from my mouth and my eyes, and not touching anything afterwards.  i have to flush the toilet twice each time i go, which is a lot because i have to drink and drink and drink and drink some more to flush the unnecessary radiation out of my body that's not doing the job of burning away the remaining thyroid tissue.  i have to wash my hands and shower whenever i remember to.  i have bags of sour lemon candies to suck on in order to salivate and avoid swelling, as the radioactive material can hang out in the salivary glands and the longer it stays, the more likely to affect my taste buds.  i have to eat off of paper plates and use plastic utensils that i just throw away.  so much to think about, between making sure i consciously keep others safe, missing michael and the girls, deciding what to do next with my individual time away, and keeping my mind on the positive, always.

monday morning, 8 am, i arrived to the hospital for my appointment.  it pretty much went something like this.  check in.  sit and wait.  get a blood draw.  sit and wait.  meet with nuclear assistant for baseline scans of neck area and neck to abdomen area.  sit and wait.  back with nuclear assistant to drink a scanning dose of radiation housed in a nuclear container that looked as if it should contain a bomb for which no precautions needed to be followed afterwards.  sit and wait.  for an hour.  back with nuclear assistant for final scans post radiation dose settling in my stomach.  go home.  that took about 3 hours.

and then i was able to enjoy the rest of the afternoon home with the girls.  since michael's car decided to throw a wrench in this whole journey last week, he took the afternoon to test drive a few cars.  i tried to soak up play time with harper and crosby and very little else.  i didn't clean, other than typical day of dishes.  i didn't cook, we just ordered pizza and i ate low-iodine leftovers.  i didn't hang out on my phone.  but mid-afternoon, i started to feel funky and wondered if i was hungry, anxious or nervous, or feeling side effects from the minuscule dose of radiation i received.  by 6:30, it was evident what it was.  i had the stomach bug that had been going around, and i tossed all my cookies.  it happened again a few hours later, and i was so worried that my treatment would have to be pushed back.  i just wanted it to start, to feel like i was doing something about this cancer, to finish off my journey.  i went to bed early and let michael take care of everything else that needed to be done.

i slept fairly well, but it took me a while to get myself up and about and dressed tuesday morning.  i didn't appear to have the stomach bug any longer, but i was drained and achy and not feeling my best.  on top of it all was knowing that i had to say goodbye to my girls for an unknown amount of time.  and still wondering if my cookie tossing messed up the scans and dosage and what they would tell me when i arrived at clinic.  and throwing in a few inches of snow which meant another school snow day for harper and a delayed start for crosby's preschool, so we were figuring out where our girls would go that day and trying to allow ourselves the additional time it would take to get to the hospital.  it could have been enough to throw me off the edge, but i actually found myself doing nothing else but focusing on what i needed to do and what needed to be accomplished and not letting emotions take over.  not yet.  

about 5 minutes before we had to leave, i felt the tears burning my eyes.  i gathered up my loves and hugged and kissed and kissed some more.  i couldn't give them enough.  harper was snuggly and lovey and kept telling me she loved me and would miss me.  crosby was a mixed bag.  she cried and didn't want me to hug her, and then she'd give me a kiss, and then she would lie on the floor and kick and scream.  i told them i loved them and loved them and loved them and would see them over facetime that night.  harper gave me one last snuggle, then looked up and said "mom, can i have a popsicle?"  thank goodness she knows how to lighten the situation.  of course, i said yes.

michael ended up driving me in to the hospital while my mom stayed back and got the girls where they needed to go.  because we were late from the snow, we didn't have to do a whole lot of waiting.  we were moved in the scanning room, where i had 2 20-minute scans, 1 35-minute scan, and a 1 -minute ct scan.  the whir of the machines, the warm blankets they layered on me and knowing i couldn't move for that amount of time pushed me immediately into slumberland for several cat naps.  michael was able to stay in the room almost the entire time, and watched the screens while i slept.  after those were complete, we were ushered into a clinic room to meet with the doctor.  this doctor was AWESOME (and on this blog, i don't use capitals lightly).  she was so thorough, so knowledgable, so at ease that this treatment would cure it all.  via the scans, she could see that there was still residual thyroid tissue that needed to be radiated, because no surgeon is truly able to remove everything surgically with how close to the esophagus and vocal cords the thyroid is, and also noted some metastasis to a lymph node on the right side, the side that was removed in the january surgery.  i had a brief moment of panic within myself.  you hate hearing the word cancer.  you hate even more hearing the word metastasis.  she was confident that a moderate dose of radioactive iodine therapy would take care of it all.  apparently, when and if thyroid cancer metastasizes, it goes to the lungs.  through the scans, they noted that my lungs were clear.  thank God for a positive piece of information.  she reviewed all the necessary precautions and restrictions i would need to take, and finally gave me the one bit i was waiting to hear.  you can't be the primary caregiver for your young children at home for 18 days.  it was what we expected and what we were planning, 3 days less actually, but still hearing it definitively was gut wrenching.  

when the doctor left, the nurse came in to go over all the side effects, all the restrictions once again, how this would all go down, and give me my script and a pill for zofran, to help with any nausea that may occur.  i have a fairly sensitive stomach, so i had no doubt on taking it.  when she left, i gave my last kisses and hugs to my mom and michael, shed some more tears.  the nuclear assistant came to get me and walked me back to a small enclosed room with a chair and floor that were lined with paper padding.  she put on her gown, double gloved her hands, and brought out, once again, the heavy, metal nuclear-looking cylindrical container that housed a small vial of my treatment.  without taking the vial out, she pushed a special straw in, then a syringe with water.  she pushed in the water, and told me to take the straw in my mouth and continue sipping until it was all gone without taking a break or letting the straw go.  it had no taste, and yet, my stomach was doing back flips and my mind was racing.  i was actively ingesting a powerfully potent medication that would kill my cancer within my body.  others had to wear gloves and gowns and be over-the-top careful with handling it, and here i was putting it in my body without any protection.  i trusted the process and allowed it there to do its job.  

i got up from the chair, went back to the clinic room to gather my bags and my entourage and walked down the halls, up the escalator and out to the car, all the while leading the pack with 6 feet between us.  what was scary and unnerving was that no one else had a clue that i was emitting radiation.  i was walking like a regular joe through crowded hospital corridors, potent and potentially dangerous.

i drove myself to my home-away-from-home for the next 18 days- my lower level bedroom in my parents condo.  i waved hello to my dad as i walked downstairs.  i hopped into bed and sat.  i had 18 days lying before me.  where the hell was i going to start.  it's almost (though not really) like a vacation.  you arrive at your hotel room, drop your bags, and wonder what to do first.  do you swim?  do you explore the hotel grounds?  do you take a nap from the exhaustion you've endured from a long flight?  i checked instagram, played words with friends, texted a few people, answered some e-mails, ordered some shoes for the girls on zulily, wrote out little love notes to include in their lunch boxes for the next 2 1/2 weeks, skyped with family and in between all that drank a ton of gatorade and water and sucked on some lemon war heads (which are disgustingly nasty and i can't believe that kids actually like those things, but it was the only thing i had at the time).

my plans include rest and recovery and following my doctor's plan exactly, to get rid of the cancer quickly and effectively, including waking every 2 hours at night to make certain i'm eating that lemon candy and drinking a big glass of water...

...and a whole lot of organizing and items on my to-do list that never get done.  my parents have cleared their schedule to support me and michael and the girls, getting them to and from school, dance, music and swim.  our family plan is to face time morning and night, and anytime in between on the weekends.  michael is handling everything else and telling me not to worry (which i'm not), with the support of amazing neighbors and friends delivering meals and cleaning our house.  my heart broke last night when crosby told me she wanted me to come home and lie with her for bedtime.  and this morning when harper told me she just missed me so much and repeatedly sent me kisses over the phone line.  i'm hesitant to cry and shed my radioactive tears anywhere other than the shower, so there will be plenty of showers.  and blogging.  yes, there will be blogging.

week 2 complete...here we go.

so over the last 8 days since i posted, a whole lot has been going down.  and it's 5 in the morning on day 1 of treatment, so i'm going to try and summarize as best i can.  my mind is on fire right now.  my insides are churning.  i am nervous and scared as all get out.  i'm also super positive, because i have a family who is behind me 200% who is giving me the strength to take the necessary steps through this process, i have a million prayer warriors out there (thank you all!), and i have my mind and my heart telling me i can't be anything but positive.  no choice.

so here's week 2 in bullets and photos.

*i have consciously made more of an effort to be present with my family.  a friend suggested turning off the text message bing on my phone, and holy crumb, did that ever make a difference in my stress level.  if i didn't know a text was there, it wasn't on my mind to check it.  i could put away my phone, be with my girls and my husband and found myself a bit less stressed.  i'm leaving it off.  

*i continued to be gifted so many amazing things this week. 2 friends from work spent their sunday cooking from the thyca cookbook of foods i can eat and brought the mother load of meals and treats to work on monday.  and it was so helpful.  i was gung ho week 1 to make so much, and week 2 just started getting repetitive and with less energy.  they boosted me back up.  black bean dip, tomato sauce, walnut milk, blueberry muffins and cookies.  i also received and a basket packed with things to keep me occupied from the teachers at crosby's preschool, and so many snail mail cards that kept me smiling.  so truly amazing.

*i remained an ice box, sleeping often times in my hat and hooded sweatshirt, fleece socks and pants.  my body was tired not to the point that my heavy eyes were closing, but that i felt like i was walking through sludge.  i found i had difficulty holding my pen and writing.  i had tingly fingers and hands and the dryness, holy guacamole.  i couldn't bathe myself in enough lotion to keep my hands from becoming over dry.  

*crosby so nicely followed up her sister's strep throat the week before with a 24 hour tummy bug this week.  luckily she only threw up 5 times in 2 hours and then was done.  but we kept her home wednesday and i stayed right with her.  so i lost a sick day for myself, oh well.  i had just heard a quote only a day before that reminded me...when i doubt, choose your children and family.  there will always be time for work.

*we skyped with my sister and her family a whole lot.  the morning i was off with crosby, we face timed for close to 2 hours.  drinking our coffee together, cooking soup together, deciding which etsy items to order, planning the time when she would be back home.  i miss her so much, and i cannot wait until they're home in april.

*i took the first step in this process last thursday by getting my blood test to check my thyroid levels. and they gave me my frequent blood draw card.  my lab apparently is a standing order, so now i just have to show my card each time i come in.  i asked if there was anything i received after 10 visits.  nope, just another draw.

*so the food...this week was definitely more of a groove.  i had less cravings for things i ate before, but it was still tough to remember i can't eat cheese and dairy and bread and have to check for salt and iodine in everything.  i had three events i attended that i needed to bring my homemade food too.  one at school, one family party and one mama night.  and i realized how difficult this would be to do if i had to do it all the time.  double checking the host for the ingredients in everything, making sure no butter or salt was added.  it was tough.  and those brownies and cakes and ice cream that just sat there staring me in the face.  if it was any other diet by my own conscious doing, i likely would have caved just a bit, but knowing the reason that i had to stay on this course, i kept at it and felt amazingly powerful.  i enjoyed my fruits and veggies.

*i met with mama friends for our monthly book club to discuss a surprisingly very timely novel, the fault in our stars, which just so happens to be about a 16-year-old diagnosed with stage 4 thyroid cancer that metastasized to her lungs and the love story that ensued from a support group.  before choosing it, my friend, megan, who hosted, check and double checked and triple checked that i was ok with reading this book.  and i was.  and i'm so glad i read it.  it turned out to be so much beyond the cancer to an amazing young love story.  if you have not read it, run to your library or book store.  and the discussion that resulted around the book was empowering and humbling and sad and happy and lovely.  this book club has been together for almost 4 years.  we've read so many words, and we've shared so much of our lives.  it is one of my favorite things and i look forward to sharing with these women monthly.  you can read how we started here.

*thursday afternoon, michael called me on his way home from work to tell me he hoped he would make it home.  apparently, his car lost power and it looks to be related to a transmission on her last leg.  after almost 10 years and 255k miles, we're surprised it has lasted this long.  he drives 100 miles a day to work, and we've maxed this car out.  yet we were hoping to pay my car off and get his through december and not have to look for a new car now.  but alas, things happen and it looks as though for his birthday this saturday, i am gifting him a new car.  i can't get upset about it.  it's just what happens.  luckily, i will be off the driving grid for a few weeks and he has my car to use, allowing us time to look and purchase one, leaving his car idle in the driveway.  in that sense, it happened at the perfect time.

*i had read somewhere a while ago that people who have passed on leave signs for those still living that they are with them, that all will be well.  one of those signs that stuck in my head was a feather.  my uncle passed away in 2010 (read about it here and here.) my uncle's birthday was tuesday, the day crosby got sick at school.  i got that call that she threw up and went to my office to pack my stuff and call my mom.  i lost it.  it was too much and i couldn't take anymore.  she had gone to church that morning and told me she sent a whole lot of prayers up to uncle john.  i took my bags to preschool, checked in to make sure crosby was ok, and left her with her teachers to start the car and put all the bags in the trunk.  as i slid in the driver seat to move the car closer to the building, i saw it.  a feather.  sitting right on my seat.  right away, my mind went to uncle john and my grandparents living beyond this life and i knew they were with us making sure all was well.  i proceeded to find 2 more feathers that week, whose reason for being could likely be explained, but happened to find themselves right where i needed them to be.

*we celebrated valentines day, and did it up big.  heart day is my most favorite holiday and it deserves it's own post, which it will get this week.  but either way, here are my little loves at our annual valentines day photo shoot.

*michael and i watched a beautiful movie friday night called about time.  it spoke volumes about savoring every day, finding the beauty in all that we're dealt and the reasoning behind it even if it's not what you want to happen, even if its tragic.  it's right where i am right now.  i highly suggest it.

*this weekend, i said yes a lot, we spent a ton of time face-to-face with the girls and taking them to sesame street live and the lego movie.  we made shrinky dinks.  we played games.  we snuggled just because.  we gave in to popsicles for breakfast, chocolate with snack, cookies at lunch.  we whipped up homemade body butter.  we drank coffee with homemade almond milk.  we made minestrone soup.  we read books.  we built legos and played with characters.  we played dress up.  we practiced sight words.  we answered questions and more questions.  we talked about this week.  we laughed and we loved and we soaked up family time.

and now, i'm nervous.  closing this post means i head off to get ready for my 8 am appointment.  updates to come.  stick around.  here we go.

week 1 funk. {low iodine diet}

life is all about balance.

one day, you are walking on sunshine, riding high, rocking your day.  a few days later, you're just in a funk.  i feel like so much lately, this blog has been a dumping ground for my sorry emotions.  i used to write about lots of happy things.  and there still are lots of happy things going on.  it's just that the sad things and the overwhelming things and the emotional things are taking charge right now.  i've had a whole lot on my mind, and need the space to fill it.  and that happens so much here.  because i can write more than i can say.  it's somehow easier when it comes out on paper.

the week started out rough.  days 1 & 2 on this low iodine diet were pretty tough.  i was so afraid that i would unconsciously cheat and eat something i'm not supposed to, thus ruining my scans and treatment, that i panicked and had nightmares about it.  thankfully i didn't.  days 3 & 4 got a little better as i got more into a groove, but wow, does this require planning.  i can't just grab something convenient if i'm hungry.  if i didn't pack it in my snacks or lunch for the day at work, i can't bank on the fact that it's safe.  so i overpacked, and felt prepared.

day 5 and the weekend were way better in terms of food.  but to balance that, i've had the sads since friday.  i feel like i've had a dark cloud hovering since, not so much as to pour down every minute, but to let loose here and there when least expected.  maybe it was because i realized how very close to this treatment i am getting, increasing my nerves and making my mind wander to the ever-so-slight possibility that this thing has spread.  maybe because i have less than a week now with my girls before i have to leave them (in very loving, capable and amazing daddy hands) for up to 3 weeks.  maybe because being in this hypo state can cause very dark mental and emotional feelings.  maybe because i'm scared and right now i just feel like i'm waiting in limbo.

since it's late and i'm pretty tuckered, and i'm certain i'm rambling with little sense or organization to what i'm typing, i'm writing this in list format...

what i've learned this week and what i'm thankful for...

*this afternoon, nana and papa took the girls to lunch, a play and to get ice cream, and that allowed michael and i several hours to finally finish hanging pictures and wall hangings upstairs, as well as the huge undertaking of purging and organizing the stacks of paperwork in the office that we've been slowly chipping away at since we moved in.  this did wonders for my well being.  it's refreshing to walk in there now, not a headache.

*that friends often know what you need before you know what to ask for.  case in point...the homemade chicken bone broth hand delivered with a hug and the trio of chick flicks that arrived at my door this weekend, both courtesy of my dear friend, kellie.  the adult, fleece, ridiculous-on-purpose onesie feeted, zippered, mickey mouse pajamas sent via mail, courtesy of my college roommate, colleen.  the text message received on this sunday morning that 2 of my co-worker friends were cooking together, following the thyca cookbook online to make me tomato sauces and salsa and treats.

*that dried fruits, including mango, blueberries and mixed berries, are my savior and sweet tooth buster.  so is homemade raspberry sorbet, topped with toasted coconut.  butterfinger who?!

*that the coconut milk i thought was my saving grace because i could add it to my coffee turns out to not be due to an thickening ingredient that is made from seaweed, and thus, not allowed.  amazing what i've learned during this process.

*that unsalted matzo cracker pb&j's are actually pretty darn tasty.

*that store bought almond milk contains sea salt, but homemade does not, and that it is super duper easy to make, kind of fun, and pretty tasty.  this might be a regular thing in our household.

*from the girl who hates eggs came sunday morning breakfast of egg whites (no yolks allowed) + green and red peppers cooked in coconut oil, served alongside avocado slices and homemade multigrain bread, which when cooked by your husband, made a very filling and very satisfying breakfast.  and like i said, coming from the girl who hates the taste of eggs, that is a huge accomplishment.

*that a pretty decent no creamer substitute in black coffee is just a spoonful of raw honey.  surprisingly, pretty good.

*that both our meals yesterday, sesame chicken nuggets and black bean soup, would be repeatable.  the other dishes we made this week, not so much.

*that facetime sessions with your siblings hundreds and thousands of miles away does wonders for your soul, when you can ugly cry and not have to be ashamed or explain.

*that maybe teaching spinning 3 out of the last 4 days wasn't the best idea.  i'm wiped.  and achy, and i'm certain i can attribute some of that to spinning, but most to being hypo.  my aching wrists and fingers, for example.  not from my spin bike.

*that having support is huge.  after almost giving in to just a tiny bit of creamer in my coffee saturday morning, but admitting it to michael first, he gently offered up that he would much rather have the iodine treatment be of utmost effect and work the first time than for me to have creamer in my coffee.  even after i gently suggested that this was a low iodine diet and not a no iodine, he wasn't buying.  point taken.  he won.  and he was so right.  i can do this.  but having him behind me 110%, well, that takes the cake.  literally, because i can't have cake.

*that tiny little just knows all the right things to say and do.  i was crying this evening, and crosby came to ask what was wrong, gently climbed into my lap and told me she would "clean up my tears," as she wiped them away with her owl lovey, poppy.  later, as i laid in bed with her and thanked her for that, she asked "why were you crying?  who scared you?"  i laughed.  blast you tiny rain cloud over my head; i've got crosby on my side.

*that bigger little responds in her own way.  i told harper tonight, told her that mommy needed medicine to help get me better, and luckily i didn't have to be in a hospital, but that i would have to go away for a little while.  she said, "because you can't be around us girls?"  she knew, she had overheard my conversations somehow, as hushed as i had tried to keep it.  she was sad for a second when she realized i couldn't give her hugs and kisses every night, but i told her that daddy and nana would give her lots of extra hugs and kisses from me and that we could skype and facetime every day.  that lead to her making sure that it was safe to skype, making sure my meds couldn't affect her through the phone and we could get as close as we wanted over the video.  and then, when i thought she'd ask more questions about all this, she said "so am i busser or pick up tomorrow?"  this is harper.  she will process this and ask tons of questions throughout this week.  i had to give her an early heads up.  she hates last minute schedule changes and surprises.  she needs the time to think, to ask, to learn.  she needs this week to adjust.  but i know she will be ok.  they both will.

me i'm not quite certain yet.  but all i can do is continue to chug along, low iodine and hypo,  emotional, cold and tired.

and on that sorry, sad and pitiful note, off to slumber.  stick with me.  this blog is rocky and emotional right now, but the sun will shine soon.  very soon.  i can feel it.  happy sunday.