One Year "Anniversary"

Today marks one year from when I hear the devastating words, "you have breast cancer."  If you recall, I had left off after the biopsy in retelling my story.  After the biopsy, I had a fashion show to finish prepping for, and to distract me through the weekend.  When it was over on Saturday afternoon, I felt good.  That Sunday, was ok, kept myself busy and enjoyed my family and a normal Sunday afternoon.  Sunday night was different.  I couldn't sleep, and finally about 3am I broke down.  In my heart I just knew the results were not going to be good.  I literally sobbed for a good half an hour and then I woke Jay up to talk to him.  I told him that I just knew it wasn't going to be good and I was scared.  He held me and I finally went to sleep.  In the morning, I woke up alone.  Jay had gone to work.  I hadn't expected him to go to work, as I was really upset, and didn't want to be alone.  He called me a little later and said he was trying to get everything squared away so he could stay home on Tuesday and be with me as we waited for the phone call from the doctor.  So, I went about my day.  Taking James to school, running errands and taking care of Katie.  About 1:30 Katie and I were standing in line at the post office (South Oak Park Station for you locals) and my cell phone rang.  It was my doctor.  She asked me where I was and if I could talk.  I told her I was in line at the post office with Katie but it sounded like I needed to get out of line and go back to my car.  She said yes and told me she'd wait while I did that.  I walked back out to the car, put Katie in her carseat and said okay.  That's when she told me what I already knew.  I surprisingly was calm on the phone.  She told me I needed to come to her office sometime that afternoon.  I told her that I'd be there as soon as I could.  I then called Jay, who I couldn't get a hold of, so I had to call his co-worker, poor guy had to listen to me cry, and tell him to get Jay off the phone and call me asap.  Jay called me back a few minutes later and I told him, and said to meet me at the doctor's office.  I also asked him to call my mom and tell her she needed to pick James up as we had to go to the doctor.  I drove to the doctors office in River Forest with Katie, a very short trip.  I was crying, but not hysterically, and all Katie kept saying from the backseat was "I sorry mommy, I sorry."  Broke my heart.  My sweet wonderful daughter knew something was wrong, and I never wanted her to experience any pain, and here I was scaring her and making her cry.  That's when I decided I couldn't take her there and called my friend Alex.  She was the first person I told after Jay.  She let me bring Katie over to her and watched her.  She hugged me and told me how sorry she was to hear my news.  Then I went back to the doctor's office and waited for Jay.  He arrived and we walked in together.  This doctor's office is not known for being on time, and now the waiting room was packed. Without even an appointment as soon as I walked in the door, they brought me into the office.  The first thing the doctor did was hug me and tell me how sorry she was.  I remember thinking, wow, this is the second person to hug me and tell me how sorry they are.  This must be really bad.  We went through the things we needed to do, decided on a hospital for treatment so the doctor to make some calls so I could be seen, and did some other things they needed me to do.  Then we headed home.  I knew this was going to devastate my parents, and I also knew I didn't want James there, so since Jay and I had driven two cars we went home together in one and I asked him to go in first and take James over to Alex's so that I could talk to my parents.  My mom literally reacted like she was punched in the stomach.  I will never forget her reaction and I will never forgive myself for bringing this terrible news to her, and the rest of my family.  And my dad, my strong dad, was devastated.  He was my hero growing up, as most dads are.  If I broke something, he would fix it.  If I needed to learn how to do something, he showed me how.  But here I was bringing him something he couldn't fix.  My parents spent a lot of time with me that week, and have continued to spend a lot of time with me this past year.  If it was not for my parents and their help this year, I could not have gotten through this.  I keep thanking my parents and my mom just says, we're your parents, and that's what parents do.  But not all parents do it, or to the extent that my parents have done.  There has been lots of people that have helped me throughout this year, and they have all played an important part in my journey that I am very thankful for, but my parents were always the "go to" people.  I knew, no matter what, that if I asked them to do something, anything, they would do it.  And even when I told them take a week off, don't come, we'll be fine, they came anyway, knowing that I really needed the help, but wanted to give them a break.  No breaks for them, no breaks for me. 

It has been one year.  It has been a rough year, a tough year, a scary year, a sad year.  I recently told someone that I think a cancer diagnosis should be followed by a delivery of a car and a baseball bat.  I have visions of that Carrie Underwood video "He Cheats" where she "dug her key into the side of that pretty little souped up four wheel drive", "took a Louisville slugger to both headlights slashed a hole in all four tires" and how gratifying it would be some days to beat the crap out of something.   How after a year I am still not done with treatment, still can't take care of my family without the help of others, still can't make some people realize what this is doing to me and my family, how I need help and can't do this alone. 

BUT, it has been a year of many people helping me, making me meals, watching my children, holding fundraisers, sending me cards and get well gifts, calling and checking on me.  Being there for me. 

If it weren't for my kids, I would have crawled under my covers, stuck my head in the sand and only gone to what I had to this past year.  When I realize that every day I have to get up, get myself together, get my kids together, run errands, complete tasks, I realize that it forcing me to LIVE.  I may not be doing what I want to do, how I want to do it, or when I want to do it, but it forces me to live in the moment.  Take it one step at a time, one day at a time, one hour at a time, one task at a time. 

I have to admit there are days where I feel guilty for doing this to my kids, my family, my marriage.  I am robbing my children of their innocence, of their mommy taking them places, playing with them, and instead I am showing them what sick is, creating fear in their eyes.  I am taking time away from my parents, time they could be spending in different ways that taking care of me again.  My mother should not know the ins and outs of my house.  She should not know Katie and James' classmates, teachers and the staff at school by name.  She should not be raising a 2 year old and a 5 year old.  Yet she has to, because I can't.  I am taking their time.  And my husband, my marriage.  This is not how a couple in their 30's should be behaving.  We should be planning date nights and vacations, not who is going to watch the kids while I go to a doctor's appointment or not how he is going to get work done and take care of the kids.  I am also missing out on fun with my friends.  My friends and I should be going out to dinner, meeting for drinks, going for girls weekends.  They should not be taking me to treatments and doctors appointments, or bringing me meals. 

But, what I hope I am doing is showing my children strength, courage and perseverance.  I hope, I pray, that this is a day that I celebrate every year, for it is another year of survival.  I hope that next year at this time, my life has returned to a new normal.  That I am back in full swing, caring for my kids, living with my husband, helping Jay with his business, working my CAbi business, volunteering again, and not waking up every day thinking about cancer, and going to sleep each night thinking about cancer.  I hope that each year I grow more and more at ease, and I hope that very soon, a cure is found for cancer.  Before it is too late for one more person.