How can TODAY be Wednesday? Wasn't YESTERDAY Wednesday? Oh, well. Who's counting?
If you came for Wordless Wednesday, STOP here, and just enjoy this collage.
For those of you who have been following me on my journey through surviving Breast Cancer, thank you. For those of you who are here for the first time, welcome !
This collage is of a few friends who made up my support system. The photos were taken after I had just returned from Tulsa for my last, very last radiation treatment of which there were FORTY-FIVE and my chemotherapy prior to that during the summer. This Hat Party was a total surprise for me. I walked into my house to find it full of friends and family all wearing my hats and wigs. (I didn't wear the typical wigs as illustrated above.)
Let me identify the Madhatters: (bottom row left to right)
1. Peg - fellow middle school teacher
2. Bill - one of my middle school principals
3. Karole - parent of former student
4. Me
5. June - daughter's 4th grade teacher (She showed up everyday to my classroom in case I couldn't make it through the day.)
Top Row left to right
6. Jodi - next door neighbor who had a key to my house. Let everyone in and handed out my hats and wigs for everyone to wear.
7. MarshaMarshaMarsha - fellow middle school teacher
8. Gee - Yes, that's Pioneer Woman's mom
9. Margaret - fellow elementary school teacher
10. Virginia - good friend and also a teacher in a different school district
Several of my nurses and techs drove up from Tulsa to be a part of the celebration.
A quick synopsis in fragmented sentences:
Diagnosed in March with aggressive Breast Cancer just before spring break during divorce proceedings. Surgery and chemotheraphy immediately. Spent the summer in a chemical comatose state. My last chemo was administered in the hospital just a few weeks before school started. I remember Dr. Schneitzer saying as I lay on the bed with tubes and wires radiating out of my body, "We are taking you to the edge of death." Those words still reverberate in my head. Lost all my hair and about fifteen pounds. When I say all my hair, I mean ALL my hair including eyelashes and eyebrows ! The ones you see in the picture are painted on. Never lost my spirit or will to live. Was pushed and pulled through this by a wonderful support system. My two daughters were the bright light of m.y.e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y. Sometimes I learned that the light at the end of my tunnel was a train. Found that laughing was the best medicine. Began the school year in a very weakened state. Classroom was on third floor. Many mornings a fellow teacher, Mr. Forrest, would carry me up them. We laughed all the way to the top. My students would cheer when he sat me in my chair. My radiation treatments would also be in Tulsa. About a 50 minute drive to the hospital. That meant I needed to leave my last hour class about 20 minutes early. My principal scheduled someone to come in every day to cover for me. (June, the lady pictured above, came every morning just to make sure I made it through the morning classes.) My youngest daughter would leave school with me. When we arrived at the house, someone would be waiting in the driveway to take us to Tulsa. I really wasn't in any condition to drive that far.
After my last, very last radiation treatment, I walked into my house and found it full of friends and family. All donning my hats and wigs. They were there to celebrate with me the end of a very long bout of treatments. There were hills and valleys. Smiles and tears and fears.
I guess this post is just to say, "THANK YOU," to all those who were a part of my support system which includes all my docs, nurses, techs, etc. I don't know where they all are these days but the love they bestowed upon me still glows in my heart.
A special, "THANK YOU," to my two aunts and their families who never let go of me.
A very special, "THANK YOU," to my two daughters who played such a significant part of my survival. They provided me my will to live. They are my heroes.
This post is to reach out with a hug to all of you who have been touched in some way by Breast Cancer.
This post is to also stress the importance of EARLY DETECTION. One of my doctors said, "Three months later, and there would have not been much of a chance to save you." I found the b-b-sized lump during a self-exam.
I can enjoy sunrise skies like the one this morning...
...the light at the end of my tunnel...and I am thankful for it everyday.
Please be sure to read the tributes in the post below !
REMEMBER: I'm donating to Breast Cancer Research for each tribute sent to me. AND, there is an anonymous donor matching that. SO, please send me names of anyone you would like to honor this October.
