Two Months Behind...

I should start by saying this post is from JANUARY, & I just realized I simply forgot to post it. Story of my life...so heads up I’m only 2mo behind! I promise it won’t take me another 2mo to post my next one as I have a newer update and will try to post that one in the next couple days...or within the next week;)...

Here we are into 2019 and I’m pondering the realization that I did not discuss my urban garden veggie planting from the summer of 2018, nor did I show any pictures of my urban garden that yielded some great veggies and left me a little bit in the mood to continue to build some raised planters. Correction: left me wanting my HUBBY to build more raised planters;). I felt this hobby turned me into the young-elderly neighbour, and that’s ok with me because I am living a zero fu*ks given lifestyle at this point:), and there’s something so incredibly enjoyable about pulling your dinner right from your garden! If the suspense is killing you to know what else I grew, simply scroll to the bottom as my Hungarian banana peppers were one of my faves!

In all seriousness, kind of, I have been so MIA on here and truthfully I’ve missed it! I’ve become so busy doing so many other things but I feel at the sacrifice of the only thing I really enjoy doing and that which feeds my soul which includes blogging and connecting with others living a similar experience. I’m not a New Years resolution type of gal anymore because really the only major goal I have on my resolution list is: continue living. That’s it. I can fill in the days however I choose to and I am ok with that. I don’t need an epic bucket list type of day everyday like feeding a lemur in the wild, while doing yoga, and embarking on some epic mountain voyage only wearing one shoe or some random shit that is just more extreme then the next. Truthfully, it just exhausts me even thinking about it, and with full disclosure I had to google what a lemur was because I suck horribly at identifying animals. I feel I’ve discussed my lack of animal kingdom knowledge in some previous post but lord knows at this point as my memory is one thing that reeeaaaallly bothers me!! The basic animals I’m good with (cat, dog, bear, tiger) but throw in there any other thing (animal) and my brain just instantly throws that out of the memory bank. At this point my brain is trying to remember where I put my keys or did I take my chemo today?? I can’t fill my brain with leisurely animal facts. Anyhow, now I’m just rambling...

Some days i’m just tired and want to do absolutely nothing. Nill. Then I feel guilty and get back into it and end up more busy then I'd like to be. At times I feel I give so much of myself to everyone else that I feel bad to just say NO, and so I continue say YES and guess what? It has brought me zero happiness, just increased stress. Cancer advocacy is also bloody tiring as well, thankless, emotionally draining and an exhausting area to get involved in. Add the terminal illness cloud looming over your head to the mix and it brings a whole new bag of emotions and difficulties. I constantly want to feel like I’m doing something to better the lives of those living with cancer, but at the same time I’m noticing my own life fly by while others in the same situation are out vacationing and enjoying their lives. Please don’t confuse not having children with not having a life!! Sometimes I feel as though others have come to expect advocacy out of me because I am doing “well” currently so I should be helping others. But here’s the thing, doing “well” is a very relative term. YES, I am “well” because I’m not actively dying and in hospice, BUT what has become so difficult with advocacy is just how different my brain is from even 10yrs ago. I mean, hello, this post is TWO MONTHS old & I finally just remembered to post it, lol. I have been on chemotherapy for almost FOUR YEARS straight! Thinking, attempting to memorize anything, takes on a whole new meaning. It’s HARD. And that is highly frustrating because I never used to be like this. So now, something as simple as volunteering, isn’t easy for me because it requires a lot of concentration, rereading the same shit a dozen times and still not knowing where I’m headed with it. It disturbs me and makes me feel stupid. I don't consider myself dumb (other than the animal facts I suppose) and I used to pride myself with always getting on the honour roll in jr high and high school, gold pencil awards in elementary, and finishing my university degree with distinction. Now, I’m lucky if I can get through a sentence or a story before my fleeting memory kicks in. People laugh and I’ll laugh but overall it’s not funny and just another thing this disease and its treatments have etched away at, taking away any known intellect I had left. 

Healthwise I had scans right at the turn of the new year. I made that standard stupid top nine collage on insta for 2018 and I wrote some shit about how well 2018 treated me...wish I didn’t. January 1st came around and I spent it in emerg with my hubby....then back again on the 3rd. Both these times it had nothing to do with me but my hubby and his back. In between this time I also had my scans so between lack of sleep, stressing over the hubs and his health, and then throwing some imaging on there I was stressed, exhausted, oh and then also sick with some respiratory virus (self diagnosed) hacking like a chain smoker along with a fever. I didn’t bother calling in or going to emerg because frankly there was so much other shit on the go. I dealt with it and my fever only really lasted one day! Then one day I started getting this insanely intense pain on the right side of my chest. It reached a point where I needed to know the cause of it because it was affecting my ability to sleep along with affecting my ability to take deep breaths. Essentially, I broke a rib from coughing. Nice conclusion to a simple upper respiratory tract infection...totally just needed some more obstacles for 2019:/. 

The day I had my brain MRI, I was going on little sleep, stressed and just tired. My brain MRI was at night so I made the brilliant idea to take my medicinals PRIOR to the scan and I would just have a nice, relaxing nap. Holy shit that did NOT happen. Long story short, I was visibly high when I got there (No, I did not drive but my lovely mom did, lol). My eyes were so blood shot and my mouth was so dry I felt like I had trekked the desert for days and needed water before the scan, lol. There was a vending machine so I thought thank goodness. I put my money in and went to press the picture of the water. It didn’t dispense. So I pressed it harder. Nothing!! At this point I was perplexed so I started pressing it repeatedly. Finally, my lovely mom looked at me and asked what I was doing to which I just turned because she heard about my dry mouth complaints, and she pressed the BUTTON under the picture which is the typical standard way 99% of vending machines work. I was so happy to get my water, whilst feeling like I cracked some mysterious code to get it. I was just really high people. There was nothing challenging to getting a bottle of water, other than my own lack of awareness. 

Once I got called back for my MRI I was looking forward to having a nap. I laid down, put the ear plugs in, and then they secured that head contraption thingy over my head. As soon as I went into the MRI I felt panicky. I instantly knew what an absolutely terrible and awful decision I had made in regards to the medicinal consumption PRIOR to my scan. I couldn’t even open my eyes cause I was worried I’d panic. All I could think was don’t become the crazy person who wants out. So naturally I thought of ways to distract myself and the only thing I could think of in my time of panic was to sing the alphabet in my head. I kept singing it over and over and over. I think it was a bloody miracle I made it through without pressing the button for an immediate escape. 

This is how you look getting scanned when you are CRAZY high!! Oh gosh, how my life has evolved or regressed?? I don't even know anymore

Essentially, my scans remained stable-ish for the most part! My sternum continues to be pesky with increased metabolism noted on the PET scan but all my other bone mets remain virtually asleep, while my brain shows nothing!! My sternum has been sore for a while and I can always radiate for pain relief but I like to use the radiation for unbearable pain and I am definitely not there so we will just continue to stay the course with my current treatment.  Since needing to slow down, to taking my hubby to his appointments & trying to care for him as well as myself, I’ve realized this year I MUST put MYSELF and my health FIRST and start to say no and not feel bad about it. I need to spend more time with my family. My husband. My mom. My brother. My nieces and nephews. It's time to realize life is becoming chaotic and I can't sacrifice my good days simply to please others. Those good days should belong to those I love the most. Here's to life slowing down a bit....

        I'm sure everyone was scrolling to see the garden pics below , lol, so here they are:

THIS boy is the same little boy I wrote a blog post about when he was born in 2015 and now he is a whole FOUR years old!!! He is my little garden helper, mini chef, smart, polite, & kind little boy. Honestly, he is a dream & I don't think I could ever sum up just how much I love him!!

My Hungarian peppers were delicious and this was the first time they actually turned out well!!! Excited for the 2019 season to start:)

Pickled carrots are my go-to

 

Back to the Bell & a Dose of Reality

Here I am four years after writing a post about the chemo bell writing again about that lovely, shiny ringer. Recently, the discussion around this bell came up on Twitter and I wanted to once again discuss the opinion I have around it, along with many others with MBC. This is my personal opinion. I am all for celebrating treatment completion, and by all means give a certificate, a pin, or anything to mark that monumental day. If you are one of my early stager friends and thinking “oh lordy is she referring to me in this piece?” If you have enough insight to even think that then you are most definitely not one of these people so don't, for even a second, worry about that. OK, now that we have established that, I want to do my best to try and EXPLAIN why this bell bothers me still and please try, for the love of God, to just put yourself in the shoes of someone who is living with an advanced/terminal cancer diagnosis. Heck, some people with mets like the bell so by all means, but then there are others who feel as I do about it and since this is my blog I'll express my thoughts on this once again:). OK, you got your empathy shoes on? Here is my own personal why...

The chemo bell is literally just a bell that individuals ring victoriously once they have completed their said course of chemotherapy treatments. Once they are all done they ring this bell with such happiness and emotion. This bell is typically found at the nursing station, and everyone celebrates with smiles and applauds this victorious milestone. You did it!!! Now before you get nestled into your empathetic shoes, I want to make sure I make myself clear: I wish every single person who has ever rung or not rung that bell to remain cancer free. To move on with their lives and find joy, and beauty, and all that good shit for eternity and never ever have to face a metastatic recurrence, or incurable diagnosis. Got it? Good. Now with that out of the way, I will speak about the metastatic community because we hear the survivor stories. All. The. Time. Firstly, metastatic cancer makes everyone uncomfortable and gloomy because it is the worst case scenario. We are viewed as the Eeyore in the infusion room – yes, I'm becoming philosophical here and referring to Winnie the Pooh. And guess what? It is bloody terrible!! I'm not going to sugar coat it. NOPE. The problem is we have become a society about comfort...about always celebrating the good, and showing the triumphs of overcoming illness; specifically in this case cancer. Unfortunately, what becomes sadder is many don't overcome or survive this disease and that's not due to any fault of the individual. It isn't something they did or didn't do. It's quite simply because it's a disease that does whatever the hell it wants to whoever it wants. We can't meditate, eat vegan, run a marathon, or do anything ourselves to stop our rogue cells from killing us. I'm sorry if any bubbles burst with this news flash...reality can be a tough pill to swallow, but it's still reality which means it happens, therefore we MUST TALK ABOUT IT.

Now you might be wanting to know, what does this have to do with the bell?? I have reached my peak limit in my life of constantly trying to make others around me comfortable. Since being diagnosed with a metastatic recurrence I have seen time and time again just how uncomfortable I make others, mainly others who have had early stage breast cancer, when I note I have MBC. I have gone from light hearted conversation prior to them realizing I have stage IV cancer to complete silence. I have hair after all and I'm young-ish, so I must be in peak, optimum health (Insert face slapping emoji here...actually I would rather have an emoji of me slapping with a fly swatter the next person who has such ignorance to think that hair=good health). People stop talking and walk away. No jokes. We have become a society so knee deep in inspirational quotes and looking on the bright side that we do not acknowledge those who are in the depths of complete fucken despair because we “just can't think like that.” Gotta stay positive...smile...I'm a survivor. I'm sorry it's hard to move on with life, but do you know what's even harder? Having to fucken actually live with cancer until it kills you!!  Now try to envision being on che-

motherapy for the rest of your life with zero expectation of it curing you, and just waiting for the other shoe, or atomic bomb, to drop on your world, only to blow it up further. No reprieve. Just trying your absolute fucken hardest to live the best life humanly possible when the side effects from treatment or the cancer itself are robbing you of the ability to actually feel good. Or having to travel and use your life savings to enroll in clinical trials for the slim chance to extend your life by mere months because you are simply so damn desperate to live. We can't mentally try to move on and the uncertainty from having scans every few months is by far the biggest mindfuck, cluster of stress, you could never even remotely fathom. Why? Because you could never even remotely understand unless you too are living it. The stress I experienced with my early stage diagnosis was the tip of the iceberg compared to the stress I live with since being diagnosed with MBC. Stress with MBC is stress induced by reality, whereas the stress I had with my early stage diagnosis was stress induced by my fear of the possibility of what else may happen. I was afraid of getting mets because then I would be living with the reality of what I feared the most. This disease isn't about our breasts. The fear that comes for me is the fear of suffering and death. What I have seen with my own eyes watching my friends die one after another, after another, after another... Where the bad days start to outnumber the good. Can you see the difference?

I have tried SO hard to not make others uncomfortable, but I have now learnt that by doing so I am only doing a disservice to myself and to others who truly need the most comfort, empathy, and support. Those who will never complete treatment. Those with MBC are typically shunned at support groups because they are what everyone fears. To me the bell is a way of screaming “I am OK, treatment is done, and I have my life back!!” Great. For you. Have you spent a minute looking around the waiting room in your cancer center? Have you taken a minute to look around your infusion room? Do you know how many of these people are simply trying to extend their lives at the expense of horrific side effects you couldn't even comprehend to simply live a little bit longer? When you ring that bell, it reminds those of us in treatment forever what will never be. How unlucky we truly are. We get to watch you and reminisce of all we have lost, of all that will never be, and of just how different everyone in that infusion room is. We are not as lucky as you ringing that bell.

Let's try and bring some perspective to this. If you found out your loved one was in a car accident and you rushed to the ER, walked into the trauma bay and learnt your loved one was going to be OK with only minor injuries sustained, BUT at the same time there was a trauma patient in the bed next to your loved one, with only a curtain separating the two, and you could hear them trying to desperately resuscitate this individual while their loved ones looked onto this dire situation. Would you ring a bell in the trauma bay and have a dance party simply because your loved one survived and could move on with their life if they so chose to?? Ummm. NO, unless you are a spineless, mean, and evil person!! Truly, how insensitive and inappropriate would that be? THIS is what it feels like to many who have incurable cancers sitting in the treatment rooms while someone who just had better luck then you, for now anyways, celebrates loudly and publicly. Why is cancer so different? Instead of trying to pretend anything good came of this disease, why not acknowledge that we need to do better.

Those with advanced cancers always need to consider and make those around them comfortable. Not for themselves, but for those around them. I think it's time all people with incurable cancers stand up and start changing the conversation so they can become heard, so that they don't simply become further isolated and shunned. Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear of MBC patients attend
support groups only to become further isolated because nobody else in that room could relate to their stage IV diagnosis? People act as though you have an infectious disease that they too may catch from you, but they're more afraid of how it will make THEM feel. Pop an ativan and listen up ladies and gents!! To hear of a newly diagnosed woman with MBC, in tears, getting escorted out the back way after a surgical consult so she wouldn't need to pass the women in the waiting room due to the realization that her breast cancer had spread beyond the breast? This wasn't to make the woman with the stage IV diagnosis comfortable, but to make those early stage women in the waiting room not feel uncomfortable by a woman in tears because of her very uncertain future that suddenly became scarily finite. YES, this is NOT OK and yet it continues to happen!! Does anyone see what I'm saying? We value, or seemingly don't care about the most vulnerable and those inflicted with the absolute most dire prognosis. This NEEDS to change. We are leaving those that need the most help stranded and alone while we continue to listen to the “survivor” stories. We need to hear ALL the stories. When mass amounts of people are continuing to die from this disease, we need to hear the other side too. We need to hear from these men and women. YES, men get breast cancer too so we need to include them in this as well, along with the spouses who have lost their loved ones. Their stories are not any less important than those of survivors. We will never solve this if we don't recognize that there are two very different sides to this and right now the stories are skewed in one direction: one towards survivorship.

As screening techniques become more and more sensitive to malignancies, or potential malignancies, cancer rates continue to increase. We need to recognize that many will never get a clean bill of health, and that those who are long term “survivors” got there due to current, scientifically proven, advancements in therapies and sheer luck. I'm not going to get into the depths of survivorship and people assuming it was their alternative therapies, coffee enemas, juice cleanse, mindful meditation, and vegan diets that got them there. You know why? Because I have known far too many young women who did all of these things prior to getting cancer. And yet they still got cancer. And died.

I want everyone to become a long term survivor. I want everyone to never hear the words; “You have cancer.” I want everyone to find joy, fulfilment, love, and happiness in their lives and to simply live. But I know that that is not reality as much as I would love it to be. With that, I am simply asking people to become mindful to what is happening around them. Next time you step foot in a cancer center or an infusion room, look around. Many people get these therapies for palliation to simply extend their lives. They will never finish treatment. Their life will be taken by this disease. If you are one of the lucky ones who gets to one day walk out of that cancer center and are given the opportunity to LIVE, please recognize the unbelievable gift you have been given. Please, I understand how hard it can be to move on (I was one of the early stagers initially before having my cancer recur), but at some point life becomes about choices. You can choose to make your life whatever you want it to be. Don't allow fear to squander the potential for a beautiful life. Pick up the pieces and move the fuck on...those of us with metastatic disease can only dream of such a luxury, and yet we watch so many become debilitated by fear. Fear won't reduce your chance of recurrence. Fear won't add any value to your life. Fear will slowly erode the beauty that exists right in front of you. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I do know that there is more to life then just me. Therefore, every month when I go get an infusion I thank my lucky stars that I can still go back every month, and I am alive. If you're a cancer survivor and are still reading this, thank you and I truly wish you good health. Go home, have a party, and celebrate your good fortune...just always remember how immensely lucky you are compared to those who have had their entire future stripped away from them. If you can't find a way to move on with your life, talk to someone and seek professional help. Mental health is an often overlooked component upon treatment completion and what these individuals need is not to continue seeing their oncologists but to get referred to the proper mental health professsional in order to help facilitate a plan to move on, to have the most fullfilling and meaningful life possible post-cancer. You HAD cancer and need the proper facilitation to not continue to live in agonizing fear. I don't want that type of life for any of my early stage friends.

Ringing a bell won't do anything...it won't change anything...it won't help anyone...just walk out of the cancer center and take a breath of that fresh air (well, not right outside the doors of the cancer center where people continue to smoke despite it clearly stating NO SMOKING, but that's another post in and of itself). Now recognize the amazing luck you have to be able to walk away from that cancer center once and for all. You can walk away...we are forever bound...do you see the difference yet?

20 Years & Scan Results

July 12th is 20yrs...20yrs ago today my father died of cancer. 20yrs to the day I sit in the same cancer centre waiting to hear the results of my most recent scans. It's impossible not to think of all he went through while trying to raise a young family, all well knowing that everything they tried was simply a Hail Mary. Nobody survived his type of cancer. In fact, at the time, they told him chemo would have no benefit. Surgery was too late to offer any form of extension of life, so he endured. Symptom management...all the while feeling like he was drowning. Out of all the scans I've had through the years, awaiting results today was by far the hardest. Hardest because my father lived less than two years after his diagnosis and the cancer steadily just progressed. I think back to his hopeless situation and can't even mentally fathom living it and what his thoughts may have been that he never expressed to his family. Ask any of us with stage IV cancer, and I believe many don't disclose every day that they can't get out of bed, are unable to eat, and are in so much pain they can't picture things getting any better. Sadly, the hardest component is simply living in your head with the "what ifs," the constant uncertainty of what your scans may unveil while living with the certainty that it's not a fixable situation. You keep the darkest thoughts to yourself because you don't want those you love to feel the same level of fear, sadness, anger, and uncertainty that one with metastatic cancer feels daily.

I'll keep this short as it was good news at my appointment. Still stable with some activity noted in my sternum. Not super surprised as I've had some more pain to my chest, but all within a bearable parameter. I will say once you've been diagnosed with metastatic cancer, the word "bearable" takes on a different meaning as sometimes you don't realize how bad the pain is as you just kind of get used to it and live with it. What all this means is I will continue on with my current chemo and Herceptin infusions. This month officially makes it THREE YEARS I have been kept stable on this chemo which, in the metastatic setting, is beyond unbelievable considering the average life expectancy once diagnosed with MBC wavers around 2-3yrs. Yes, I'm thankful I'm alive and my scans are good, but today wasn't about celebrating as much as it was about remembering the fact that, despite 20yrs going by, people continue to die of cancer. Not just MBC, but many, many other types of horrible cancers that rob too many people in the prime of their lives. Will it ever get better?

I have been "lucky" in the sense that I have gotten over 4yrs since my MBC diagnosis and, despite toxic side effects, I live my life. I speak of all cancers when I say just how purely horrible and sinister they are. This isn't just about all the physical pain, but the psychological torment it perpetuates on a day to day basis.

My father taught me what true strength and resiliency was. I'm happy to still be here and I am forever grateful that I lucked out with an amazing medical oncologist and nurse that have kept me alive and sane through these years. Here's to life continuing on, stability remaining, and for better days for so many that are currently struggling to simply stay alive. This is about the massive cancer pandemic that exists in our world today...it isn't going away, and it sure isn't getting better. It makes me sad that despite 20years passing, new technology popping up every year (iPhones i'm looking at you), space travel, and all the major feats through the years; cancer still exists and we still can't figure out how to cure these complex diseases. I will continue to live off hope that one day we can see advancements in cancer that can parallel the rate as to which we see technological advancements...because if we don't, I can't even imagine how many families will be impacted in some way by all the awfulness that a cancer diagnosis imparts. Here's to more days...more research funding...and continued hope that leads to better outcomes for everyone who ever needs to hear those dreaded words: "I'm sorry but you're cancer can no longer be cured."

Day to Day Life

As of late, I feel as though life has been busy, as in I have no clue what day of the week it is anymore. I can typically gauge if it's a weekend or weekday simply based on the television programming that's on. Weekdays you have the morning & daytime shows (Live with Kelly & Ryan & Ellen) and weekends are all about HGTV, lol. I now feel, in my own head obviously, that I am an interior designer and contractor as I tell my hubby how they should simply take the wall out and expand the kitchen, or add an accent wall in the bedroom. I know...I haven't written a post cause this is a super ridiculous and mundane topic, hence the radio silence (again) but I feel it's important to talk about the days in-between scans, vacations, and all the big, enjoyable, momentus occasions along with the oh-fu*k-what is happening moments...so here we go...

The warmer weather has FINALLY made its appearance in Calgary recently and I truly couldn't be more happy about it. I was starting to wonder if the ski season would roll on into our summer because at one point it did seem as though the snow was a nasty April fool's joke. But nope, thank god, and I finally managed to plant my veggies and flowers. For anyone who knows me, they'll tell you I LOVE gardening. I get inappropriately excited by watching my garden grow. However, the one issue with gardening after having been on chemo for the past, almost 3yrs straight, along with having had brain radiation, is when you go to buy flowers you quickly forget how many pots you have at home, along with just how many flowers you bought from the garden centre you just visited the day before. I literally went home and thought holy shit I have a problem!!! I had trays of flowers and then realized I now didn't have enough pots. Plus my hubby's spot in the garage was overtaken by flowers. He parked on the driveway that night. Well ok...so off I went the next day to purchase FOUR more pots. Don't get me wrong, they were good purchases but that's not the point... After I bought the pots I then realized with the size of a couple of them, I now didn't have enough flowers. Wonderful. So I went and bought more flowers....aaand you guessed it....I now once again had too many flowers. I was going to go back and buy more pots, but at that point I had reached even my threshold. You see, it became a vicious cycle!! My hubby now just looks at me and says, "Ok...how many did you buy?" He's aware of my problem. I then remind him about what he feels is worse; is it better to have a flower/gardening addiction or an addiction to heroin or cocaine?? Obviously, my gardening addiction always wins and I justify my purchases:).

The last few months I also got back into skiing which I hadn't done in probably a decade. I initially stopped after I did my final practicum in nursing in pediatric emergency. I loved everything about it, but after seeing numerous ski related traumas that I couldn't even quite fathom occurring pre-emergency focus, I officially became an adult. As in I became scared as shit of breaking something or puncturing something or just about anything you could imagine happening, so I simply stopped. I put my skis and all the equipment in the basement and thought if I want to play it safe, build a bloody snowman. Or stay inside and have a cup of tea. The latter seems to be a more popular choice the older and older I get. I swear, we all become adults when we can realize an injury that can occur to us that may break multiple bones or be deemed "dangerous" and that's it we are peace ✌️ outing, and then we fearmonger by telling our friends who still ski all the ways they could die doing it!! I do much prefer the oblivion of being a child.

Anyhoo, back to actually actively skiing... I had heard it was similar to getting back on a bike, except it's obviously freezing out and you're barreling down a snow-covered-with-ice-patches mountain. I mean really just like getting on a bike! Ok, that's dramatic as it really did come back to me except I felt slightly old-ish as I definitely felt it in a few bones, but honestly I loved it and when I thought back to when I was diagnosed with mets I was proud of even trying again, especially with bone mets. Obviously, if I had bones that were on the verge of breaking I would have rethought this decision, but my scans have been stable and it was one more part of my life I just wasn't going to allow cancer to erode. It was nice to be able to head up to the mountains a few times this past season with some good friends and great company.

After I got back from Toronto at the end of April, I appeared to have caught some respiratory infection that lasted waaaaaaaay longer then I had anticipated or hoped for it to last. With that, maybe from coughing so much, I ended up getting pretty bad sternal pain that would wrap around my upper back. I don't want to say I was incapacitated by it (that's dramatic), but I will say it was bloody painful to the point that just slightly touching certain parts of my sternum would make me want to wince in pain. Plus, the location where I live just isn't conducive to sticking to ONE season, but rather we have huge fluxes up and down with the temperature, causing pressure changes which, without a doubt, cause bone pain. The pressure changes also fuck with my head. Not the cancer bit, although I do get headaches on and off but not enough to warrant calling my onc in a panic but I think just the common folk headaches. With all that said, and despite the very real logic behind it, the first thing I think of is: Is the cancer progressing? That's the one thing once you get cancer that is a component that nobody understands, unless you're also living it or have had cancer. Cancer, just as the rogue cells hide undetected in our bodies, it also hides in the back of our minds slowly eroding our sanity, whilst those around us have absolutely no idea just how much it impacts our every day, and every moment of our lives. It truly is the biggest as*hole invader in ones life.

Soooo, if you're still reading at this point, you're essentially pretty much caught up with much of my life! I wish I could say I'm travelling constantly or sitting on a beach or on a patio in some tropical or desert climate, but that's not how life works. I'm actually busy watering the nine hundred and eighty two plants I bought, lol. Just kidding:) BUT I am leaving on vacation this upcoming week and I am planning on zoning out, and enjoying every single second of warmth, sunshine, my hubby, a pool, and just being alive in the moment...in a state with legal cannabis:). BRING IT ON I CAN'T WAIT ANY LONGER!!!!!!!

Ok, does anybody else just smile when they see bright and beautiful flowers too?? From the smell to their individual uniqueness...they make me happy:)

The start of my veggie garden. Right now it looks a lot like planters full of dirt but we got an AMAZING yield last year, so here's hoping it continues this year (I'll post more pics near the end of the season to show my yield...stay tuned...I know SUPER exciting, haha). Decided to do lettuce, tomatoes, radishes, beets, carrots, zucchini's, peas, potatoes, and Hungarian peppers. Now to watch them grow!!!

It was SO nice to get back into skiing!!

It really is seriously beautiful in the mountains and you might as well embrace where you live, right? However, I am quite content, ready, and over seeing anymore snow for quite some time.....soooooo bring on the sunshine:)

I can't round off a post without a Lola pic. Seriously love this little dog & all the added craziness she brings into my life;)

4 Years

4 years...

4 years ago today was the start of the Winter Olympics. 4 years ago today was also the day that my life got turned upside down and changed the course of everything. My life's trajectory became derailed, uncertain, and my life became scarily finite. 4 years ago today I was diagnosed with MBC. It's almost as if the “old me” died and I had to completely figure out who I would now be. How long would I even be alive for? What would ongoing treatments do to my body and quality of life? And the notorious what the fuck just happened whirled through my head?! How could life change so drastically in one single moment.

Statistically speaking, I have already lived past the typical 2-3year survival rate noted for those diagnosed with MBC. Part of me feels thankful and happy and part of me constantly asks why were others not as lucky? Why am I still here and why are my many friends gone in a matter of months? I know I will never know the answer, but it's still one I constantly question.

My life is different now. The things I find important, and that which I find stressful, pales in comparison to the things I now allow myself to stress about. Death is the greatest fear and when I look at the things that I used to worry about, or listen to others daily struggles (late to work, spilled coffee, stuck in traffic, I have a cold, work was too busy, etc..) I simply laugh at the silly and mundane nature of these “troubles.” It amazes me that we live in a world of opportunity but the only REAL barrier to achieving what we want is truly our health. If you want something bad enough you go and get it! Don't complain but DO. If you're waiting to be spoon-fed opportunity then you are delusional. When death becomes your greatest barrier, fear becomes a relative term.

Every year I am thankful for simply being alive. For being able to watch my nieces and nephew grow into amazing little people. Another year I get to spend with my husband, exploring the world, and simply being in each others presence doing everyday things that I no longer take for granted. Another year that I appreciate just how much my mom has done for me and my family from cooking to cleaning to coming to appointments...no mother should have to constantly worry that they will outlive their child; that eats away at my heart because this disease doesn't just affect me. It affects my entire family and creates a type of stress I can not even put into words. The constant uncertainty of when the other proverbial shoe will drop. It makes you more humbled, but also scares the complete and utter shit out of you. As much as having MBC has opened my eyes to the fragility of life it has also made me more aware of appreciating even the tiniest of “good” that may shine through in midst of the storm of some pretty crappy days.

4 years I honestly didn't think I might make especially after I first heard I had brain mets. Cancer in my brain truly made me think that my life span would be much shorter, but yet here I am. My brain, as of my last scans, is clear. Essentially, nothing noted to be growing. Obviously, I am aware that this can change ever so swiftly, but RIGHT NOW I am good. I am thankful to see the snow fall outside, to see every giggle and smile, and embrace every big hug and kiss my nephew places on me; a milestone when he was born just over three years ago, I never thought I would be alive to still be apart of. To watch my middle niece excel in gymnastics and basically any sport she tries. She reminds me of my youth and the times my body could do just a little bit more. To seeing my oldest niece become a teenager and turn into a smart, empathetic, and kind person. These are the things I am thankful for. These are truly the only things that matter to me.

At this point in my life I really just want to see changes in respect to MBC. I don't (I CAN'T) keep watching so many beautiful people continue to succumb to this disease, leaving behind children, spouses, friends, and family too soon. Something has got to give. We need better therapies that can extend our lives. We need government and pharma to hear us, and collaborate with patients to help change the landscape of this disease. We need to hold them accountable as sadly this could be any of us. To understand that delays in access to treatments are killing Canadians. I don't want others to need to care when it's them or their loved ones because at that point it may be too late. Nobody wants to talk about stage IV, incurable disease, as it doesn't evoke “happy” feelings or the sense of survivorship and moving on. We, with MBC, don't get that luxury to move on. We are in a cycle of getting scanned regularly with the knowledge that the next scan may be the one that completely derails our life further towards death. Yes, it's terrible and depressing, but yet it's our reality. If we continue to live in our bubble of positivity and ignore those that are dying we are contributing to the problem by being dismissive. Many of us don't complain but simply try to put our energy into living as complaining changes nothing. With that, I truly hope that for all those who have their health today that you can take value away from knowing that you are living a life full of promise and opportunity..something that many, TOO MANY, others never got the chance to. Life is short, but it's up to us to give it meaning.

Just a few (or maybe two dozen) pics from the last 4 years...

This photo may just look like a selfie but this was my first infusion days after finding out my cancer had recurred and was no longer deemed curable. Smiling amidst the never-ending tears...

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Watching these girls grow into beautiful little people has been a privilege in my life

Scans..scans...and more scans! The life of a metster and of never ending appointments and waiting. Waiting has become a part time job! Not having control over your own life, and sitting in waiting rooms with people twice your age doesn't evoke a warm and happy feeling...such is life

My supportive hubby. Love him and his patience with his 32yr old menopausal wife, lol. This was not the life either of us envisioned but I think we are making the most of it and I would never choose to do life with anyone but him:)

Another New Year and just another day to celebrate life with those I love the most

Oh this BOY!!! He has gone from this tiny babe to a 3yr old who is sweet, strong, and loves to be naked, lol. I feel immensely blessed to continue to watch him grow into a toddler I adore

Enjoying life in Hawaii

Perfection on vacation

1st dose of Xeloda..I am beyond thankful that this chemo has controlled my cancer for 2.5year now!!!!

Oh Tykerb...this is how I felt for the two years you destroyed my guts and left me in so much pain. I don't miss you. At all!!

The joys of never-ending scans. In between living it is the pause that makes me stop and realize how quickly everything can change 

Having the opportunity to go to a Blue Jays game 

My mom. The most selfless person I have ever met. I am beyond thankful that I won the mom lottery with this one!!

Alive to do silly pics like this, lol

Just hanging out in Central park

Central Park, NYC

Never lose hope

NYC landscape

Going to Broadway! 

Self explanatory...its my husband people don't worry

My support

I bought a dog in the midst of these years...I love her:)

Always enjoy life...in moderation...or just do whatever makes you happy:)

Treatment #2 of Herceptin. Thankful for this life extending therapy

And just live as noted above:)