I am stable. I love the word stable. The definition of stable in the dictionary says ‘firmly fixed, not deteriorating, sane, sensible.’ I’ll take it. As a metastatic cancer fighter stable is the best possible word whether you’re on treatment or not, stable is the goal. Stable means I am not deteriorating. So here I am with the best news and not on any type of treatment yet. Awesome. I got the news via text from my doctor. [Note, YOU ARE YOUR OWN ADVOCATE. Find a doctor that fights WITH you and cares enough to tell you news you want, no, NEED to hear right away.] Anyhow, I get to soak in more life for awhile and I’m good with that.
Last week was a whirlwind of a week. Had my scan on Monday, got my news on Tuesday, then flew out for work Wednesday. I honestly did not have time to process news I had been waiting for for 6 months. After working Wednesday with my co-worker, I found myself sitting at a bar in a nice restaurant eating by myself. I ordered an appetizer, had a delicious dinner, and ordered the best wine. I pretty much ordered whatever the waitress recommended. At the end of the meal she asked about dessert and I said ‘no way.’ She looked at me and said, ‘Get the dessert, don’t you have anything to celebrate?’ That was it. I burst into tears. I realized that through the busy-ness of life and having to travel for work, I had not processed the news of being stable. IT IS SUCH A BIG DEAL!! She ended up crying with me then not charging me for this extravagant meal (there are fantastic human beings out there), which made me cry even harder. I left the restaurant and drove to my hotel still a blubbering mess.
After my work trip I was asked to share my story at an International Women’s Day celebration back in Detroit(it was a full week). I have to say I was SUPER nervous. I’m not sure what I even said but I do know I was able to touch on the major parts of my story…like my four trips with cancer and starting the lipstick company out of my need to have purpose and meaning from having cancer. What I realized afterward is that the ‘story’ really happens in all of the in-between times; in between those big events of diagnosis, surgery, and treatment. The stories are the waitress and the free meal, the moms on my sons basketball team making a shirt to support my cancer journey and surprising me with it by having all the boys wear it at a game, the tears I cry thinking about the kids and their future that I may not be part of…there are so many moments in a day that make up our stories and 15 minutes couldn’t touch the surface of those. ‘Life isn’t a matter of milestones, but of moments.’~Rose Kennedy Never forget to notice the moments and soak them in.
I saw my doctor on Monday, one week after my scan. It was a generally good visit. He was smiling when he said, ‘All looks good! Still stable, no new tumors. Any questions?’ We chatted for awhile, he looked at my bloodwork, then looked at me and said, ‘I’d like another scan in 3 months instead of 6 this time.’ Hmmmm. There it is. That question in the back of my mind that’s been sitting there since the beginning, ‘When’s the scan, what will they find?’ I’m back in my scan cycle of life but instead of every 6 months, I’m back at 3 months. I read a blog written by another cancer warrior and it perfectly describes how I feel. The writer described her cancer as a bomb strapped to her chest not knowing when it was actually going to blow and that is pretty much how I feel. Categorized as stable is exactly that, still with cancer, but with stable and slow growth. Going back to the bomb analogy and combining it with statistics for my particular ‘brand’ of cancer it goes something like this…in 5 years, 50% of the bombs will have exploded and in 10 years, 9 of 10 bombs will have exploded. Barring all scientific advances, that’s a little rough to think about and that is what keeps my heart heavy and my mind focused on time. The other side of the coin is this, science is advancing faster than the doctors can keep up with so it seems statistics change on a daily basis, hallelujah! More time.
Today I wear a combo of two Lipstick Journey lipsticks, Stormy on the bottom and Fierce on top. It is my favorite combination, it deepens the red and ‘lightens’ the storm. Perfect. Cheers to a new day!
Last weekend I got to spend some time in Sedona, Arizona. Sedona is probably my favorite place in the whole world because of its beauty and the peace I have felt every time I’ve gone there. Typically I’ve gone with girlfriends and we’ve enjoyed walks, food, and spas but this time I went with my husband. A die hard water person, he was hesitant to visit the desert but on the road into Sedona after seeing the first giant red rock, I believe he was hooked into the magic. On the second day (we were only there for 2 days), we decided to pick a trail and hike. I asked the front desk person at our motel for a map of the trailheads and for a short description of the trails. We decided to hit a trail late in the afternoon, picking the ‘light to medium difficulty’ 3 mile trail with ‘the best views’ (according to the lady). Long story short it was a beautiful trail near the top of a mountain with spectacular views but instead of the 3 miles, we ended up on different trails along the way and about 5 miles and 2 hours in, we started wondering if the trail was ending soon and if was going to be anywhere near where we parked. We kept a comfortable pace until the sun started going down and we started 
seeing animal (mountain lion) tracks along the way (the trail was a little muddy in some parts from rain earlier). Over 6 plus miles later, with the last mile or so uphill, we were exhausted, hungry, cold, but finally back in our car. Whew! It was exhilarating! 5000 foot elevation, 6+ miles, metastatic cancer with multiple lung nodules, the hike was a little challenging going uphill at various times but dang, when you think you can’t do something but do it anyway…it takes your breath away (literally for me).
really knowing if you’re going the right way or if there may be a little danger ahead. You take one step at time with a little fear and trepidation but you know that stopping is not the solution. Keep moving. Then there are times like the gym when you know you’re on the right path but you’re simply losing steam. Dig deep. Surround yourself with people that can motivate you and those that believe in you. Keep going.
Is it ever too late to dream? Never. Stage 4, metastatic cancer? It’s now or never. Keep dreaming. God puts dreams into your soul and sometimes it’s adversity that reveals them. It has been a beautiful and fun journey and has been one thing giving me life. What is it that brings you life and joy? Maybe you should be walking in that direction, just take that first step.
I’ve done a pretty good job throwing myself a pity party this last month. That’s right, I’ve been angry, depressed, resilient yet sad, you name it and it was hard getting over the hump. I let cancer get to me and was even mad about that for awhile. Nobody could tell because I’m a fairly high functioning depressed person but it was always there in the shadows; that stupid sadness that just wouldn’t go away. Every day I’d get up, get ready and go to work…why? I’d try to work out…why? I’d try to eat healthier…why? I was plagued by the ‘I have cancer so why and what for..?’ and then I told someone. Not anyone I’m particularly close to but caught at the right place, right time. I said it out loud. I’m mad and sad I have cancer and I feel like I’m forced to compartmentalize all aspects of my life; the part of me that knows I have cancer vs. the wife, the mom, the employee, the entrepreneur, all of it. Yet, because it’s impossible to keep cancer in its own separate category since it actually infiltrates every part of your life and influences your daily decisions, well that was just making me sad. This person looked at me and said, ‘It’s ok.’ That’s it? Yes. I am all those things and I do have cancer. I function as ‘Anna vs. cancer’ with me forging ahead most of the time but sometimes cancer gets the upper hand and it’s ok. I found that it’s good to surrender to those feelings sometimes and to rest knowing that tomorrow is another day and that God is the one in control. I also found that it’s GREAT to tell someone.
‘I do my best to find some kind of glow. I’m givin it some heart and soul now from the darkest grays the sun bursts, clouds break…This is life in color…this is life in motion. And just when I could run this race no more the sun bursts, clouds break. This is life in color.’~
October is breast cancer awareness month and I have a confession to make…ever since getting cancer 10 years ago I’ve been a little jealous of the pink. Everyone knows and prepares for October; pink is everywhere from the local drugstore to the NFL to national news networks and rightly so, one in eight women will develop invasive breast cancer in her lifetime. It seems that every type of cancer has a month and a ribbon color but I would venture to say that the general public couldn’t name any other month/color except for breast cancer and the pink. So when I first got cancer, not only did I hear ‘oh, you have the easy cancer (thyroid)’ but I learned that our month was shared with Childhood cancer, Leukemia Lymphoma Cancer, Ovarian and Prostate Cancer, and our ribbon had multiple colors; purple, teal, and pink. In fact, on my first walk with Relay for Life I could not find anything thyroid cancer (t-shirts, ribbon pins, bracelets) from any vendors. Sigh.
and pins with pink ribbons, today I’ve seen blue, purple, yellow, burgundy, and an occasional purple/teal/pink thyroid cancer ribbon. The pink has empowered women, has increased awareness and early detection, and has ultimately increased survival rates. Let’s face it, whatever color or month is associated with whatever cancer there is, cancer just sucks.
The weather here in Michigan is changing. It’s my favorite time of year as the nights get cooler and the leaves change colors. I love fall. Over the past two weeks I’ve been in a little funk because with the changeover to fall my allergies start picking up and along with that and cancer, breathing becomes a little more difficult. I have had trouble breathing here and there since I got cancer the first time 10 years ago because of a paralyzed vocal cord from the first surgery. Now that my cancer is metastatic to my lungs, difficulty breathing is a little more urgent in the doctors’ eyes. Apparently even though my cancer is technically stable, since I have multiple lung nodules, there are possibilities of other things happening simply because my lungs are now compromised. Ugh. Over the past month I have been to the ER because of my breathing issues (all turned out normal besides still having cancer-still stable), and more recently my doctor thought I should go ahead and get a pulmonary function test which was not a party. That turned out pretty much as expected.
I’ve been sad lately because there’s so much I want to do but I understand the facts of responsibility. I’m a wife and mom, I’m an employee, we have medical bills (obviously) and college bills so I can’t just tour the world or start a non-profit and help people. I get it but what can I change? What else can I do? This is why I’m restless. This is why my mind won’t stop. It’s kind of a lonely place to be, even lonelier when you try to pretend all is normal and the same as it always is or was because it’s not. I’m still grateful and I’m still forging ahead like there will be a thousand tomorrows because there could be. Today though, I’m seeking out the color amongst the gray because my heart’s been troubled and I know there’s so much beautiful color. I will soak in this encouragement from Ann Voskamp, ‘I have a Messiah who meets me in it, won’t leave me in it, and will carry me through it! We never cry alone. Go slow. Be God-struck. Grant grace. Live truth. Give thanks. Love well.’
Anna's Lipstick Journey 