Losing someone is never easy.......

"Don't cry because its over, smile because it happened"- Dr Seuss.

It's funny the friends and relationships you form with other people who are in your boat. Since my diagnosis 3 years ago, I have made numerous friends through cancer. It has been one of the good things, meeting new people, creating new bonds and friendships with people who understand what your going through or went through. I have been fortunate to make several friends, a few have become very good friends. I never imagined I would have to say goodbye to one of them.

In one of my very first blog entries I wrote about a patient at the cancer center who I ran into in the chemo room. This was not just another patient (I don't mean that in any negative way), this patient was a favorite of mine. From the first day I met him, he was special, he was always happy, always positive. Even when he was feeling like crap from his chemo he always wanted to talk about my family, my life, he always told me "it is what it is" or "what am I gonna do, feel sorry for myself". He was the very first patient I told that I had cancer to, he was at the cancer center (by coincidence) the day of my first chemo. He saw me in the chemo room, stopped us and said "what the hell are you doing back here", when I told him he responded with "not you". He then put his arms around me gave me the biggest hug and said "you are going to beat this kid". He shook Ryan's hand and told him whatever we needed he was there for us. We ran into him a bunch of other times during my course of treatment and he always asked about me when he went in for his appointments. Once I returned to work,  he would come in, ask for me, give me a hug and tell me how great I looked (even when I had no hair and knew I looked horrible, he always told me I looked great). He sat down with me once I was in remission and he told me how pissed off he was that it happened to me. I told him cancer doesn't discriminate and he wanted to hear nothing of that, he wanted to know what was being done to make sure I stayed in remission, what needed to be done to help my mental state of mind, whatever I needed he reassured me it was going to be alright. He became more than a patient, he was my buddy, he had a piece of my heart.

Earlier this year, his cancer came back. I was devastated when he came to my desk that day. He sat down looked at me and said "well sweetheart its back, it doesn't look good", I remember telling him "no, you are going to fight and you are going to beat this again, you have to". Every time he came in for treatment from that day on he always came to my desk, called me "sweetheart" or "kid" and never wanted to talk about himself. He only wanted to know that I was fine, that I was still in remission, that I was taking care of myself. He downplayed every aspect of what he was going through. He truly was a selfless man. I mean, he would always bring in cakes or breakfast, but what I always remember is the hug I got after each appointment. He would hug me so tight that some times I was certain he may pop an implant. He came in for an appointment last month, he came to my desk sat down and said "its over kid", I told him no, no it wasn't. I wasn't listening to him, I didn't want to hear that. I told him he still had fight in him and they were going to figure something out. He came in last week for another appointment, at that appointment, it wasn't him. It took everything I had to be strong while he was there, I wanted to cry, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him I was sorry, tell him it wasn't fair. Not him! I couldn't make eye contact with his wife, she was trying to be strong for him. Today, he went to Heaven. Today, he was set free from pain. Today, the world lost an incredible man. Today, a piece of my heart broke.

Mr. Brooks, you will never fully know how much you mean to me. How much encouragement you gave me. I am glad you are free from suffering, I am glad you will finally get to rest. It will be hard to not see you, I will miss your hugs, I will miss your humor. I will hold onto the memories that I have of you.

Sometimes I feel like I am falling apart

    Ok, I know that I officially "ended my blog" in the beginning of the year, however, it was such a good therapist for me and I want to keep this entire journey in one place. So here goes my thoughts and emotions on being 3 years cancer free.

   On September 16th I celebrated being in remission for 3 years. Yay (or so I thought yay). I have been looking forward to the 3 year mark since the day I was diagnosed. I remember being told, "the first 3 years are the most important", generally speaking my chances of a recurrence are the most high in those first 3 years. I told myself, make it to 3 years and the rest is going to be cake. I am pretty sure I set myself up for failure on that one. Don't get me wrong, I am beyond ecstatic to be cancer free 3 years later! I am starting to find it difficult again to not let the worry train come around and I am sick and tired of being on a pill that makes me not myself.

   The worry train; I remember my world falling completely apart on that day in March 3 years ago. I have struggled with intense fear of dying, fear of facing chemotherapy and surgeries, fear of what my life becomes after all this. I was lucky to have a really good therapist and support system (outside my blog) who helped me face those fears one at a time. I conquered everything and made it to the other side. I remember dealing with the after effects of everything was actually harder than physically dealing with everything (if that makes sense). As of lately, I have found myself falling back into that space. I honestly think it is because I am letting life happen again and quite frankly, it scares the shit out of me. Three years ago I stopped allowing myself to look into the future, I didn't want to think about beyond the day I was in. I didn't want anything in my life to change, I felt safe in my secluded little bubble. Well, guess what? Life goes on, you can't live inside your own little bubble. We moved into a new house a couple months ago (a house we have plans for), Gabrielle is following her ambitions on an amazing competition dance team, Cole is busy playing baseball, I am finishing my degree. I have let myself think about and get excited about what is to come. I can't wait to see how our plans with the house pan out, I can't wait to see Gabrielle on the "big stage" (as she calls it) competing with an awesome team, I can't wait to get my degree in my hands and see where that takes me, to see how Cole continues to grow at baseball. The other day I got hit, a huge bag full of bricks right in the stomach hit, hit with fear that letting myself get excited and plan for the future again is wrong. I find myself so excited for what is to come that I am making myself scared, does that make sense? I am afraid that allowing myself to be happy for the future and make plans is going to backfire. I understand the future is a scary thought for anyone, I understand no one is guaranteed another day, I am honestly at peace with whatever the outcome of my life is. However, I do get scared at times still. Yesterday I found a weird, not a lump, more like a ridge in my implant that hurts. Of course I went, in my mind, instantly to the day I found out. I sat on my bed and bawled my eyes out, Ryan kept telling me it is nothing. So much was done to my chest that things like scar tissue or something else is going to pop up, that I have foreign objects in my body and at times I will feel weird things. I am sure it is just a muscle or the implant but it still scares me. It re-affirmed that everything can change in an instant.

   Tamoxifen. Oh. How. I. Hate. Thee. This little white pill is the devil. I know it is serving me a great purpose and I will continue to take it until I am 42 (7 and a half more years). I don't know how I am going to get through those 7 and a half years. When I was first diagnosed, since my cancer was estrogen positive, I was told after chemo I could do Tamoxifen for 10 years or get my ovaries removed and do another pill option. Tamoxifen has the statistical information that makes me feel the safest. This little pill makes me feel like crap though. I have gained weight (like 30lbs), my emotions are all over the place, my moods are all over the place, I can't sleep at night, I get hot flashes, I bruise like I get beat up daily, my patience is very small, I am just sick and tired of taking it. I know things could be A LOT worse and I am very fortunate for the outcome I received, I just get angry (probably another side effect) that I don't feel like myself still.

   A part of me feels guilty for even writing this blog and complaining all most about such minimal things. Like I said, this my therapist and for me, I can write my thoughts better than I speak them.

My Poems

Poem #1

"My Story"

I was given a second chance, so my story could be told

I was diagnosed with cancer, at 31 years old.

When I went through chemo I lost all my hair

it was what I had to do, so I didn't care.

Two beautiful angels were my inspiration

when I'd feel like I couldn't do it, they were my motivation.

I kicked and I fought for 8 months long

now it's been 2 years since the cancers been gone.

I've been through hell and back, many tears have been shed

but now I am smiling and the hair is back on my head.

I will watch my kids as they grow and become adults

I will tell them stories they can't remember of the battles mommy fought.

I will watch my daughter get married and my son go to prom

I will be there when they need a hand, help guide them along.

I will tell them I love every single day

because cancer came so close to taking that away.

I treat each day as if it is my last and look to the future

but don't forget my past.

I have the scars to remind me, what could have been

had I not fought so hard, had I not gotten the win.

Now my eyes are wide open, all smiles for me

because I beat cancer and that is my story.

Poem #2

"I Wish I Could Run"

As I sit in his office,

alone, cold, and numb

I hear what he is saying,

but I wish I could run.

He says there's a beast growing deep inside my chest

he says he can save me or at least try his best,

I understand what must be done,

but why is this happening, I am only 31.

I stare out the window no feelings at all

my life flashes by, the room becomes small

I think of my family, my babies, my friends

all the things I did wrong, I need now to make a mends.

He says we'll fight this battle, he says it can be done

I hear the words he's saying, I wish that I could run.

I sit in a chair, poison going in my vein

I watch the bag empty, I try to hide my pain.

I look at the people sitting just like me

all walks of life, all ages I see.

The faces are pale, they look frightened and weak

Cancer doesn't care that you now feel like a freak.

Days now spent sick, bald, and sad

I look in the mirror, now I feel mad.

My babies don't understand, my husband stays strong

I search for the answer of what I did wrong.

One year later he tells me I won

I heard what he was saying and I am glad I didn't run.

Poem #3

"A Love So Simple"

A love so simple, a love so pure

from the moment I met you, I knew I needed more.

I love the way you smile, the way you look at me

I love your little voice, and the innocence you see.

I love your blond hair, and those big blue eyes

I love that no matter  what, we will always have ties.

I love you both the same in every single way

I love the way we cuddle at the end of every day.

I love my babies, Gabrielle and Cole

a love that comes from deep within my soul.

Closing a book and writing a new one...

"It's not about what it is, it's about what it can become" -Dr.Seuss. For me, this blog has served as a therapist. A place where I could let my thoughts, my emotions, my fears, my anger, flow without being judged. A place where I would document every detail no matter how graphic, every thought no matter how unimportant it seemed to others. A place where I could write a story. A story about heartache, fear, loneliness, uncertainty. A story about me. A story that I am happy to say finally has an ending. This year will be the 3 year mark for me! I honestly can't believe it has been 3 years since this journey began. I can say with complete honesty now, I was certain in 2011 it was the end for me. I had no idea how strong my body was, how strong my will to live was. I had no idea what a blessing this would turn out to be. I sat a few nights ago and re-read my entire blog (I had it printed out into books for Gabby and Cole). I cried from the first post to the last! Reading it now, being in a completely different state of mind, I actually scared myself a little. I can see the growth I have made over the years. I am happy with how my life has turned out. I have decided it is time to close this book, put it away on a shelf. I did what I set out to do in 2011. I survived. I faced every single fear I have ever had. I have stared death in the face and am no longer scared of it. I have had to let go of things, place my life in the hands of doctors and just believe that some day I would wake up from this nightmare. It was a long journey and like all journeys there were bumps in the road and set backs. There were times when I thought "I can't do this", times when I wanted to throw the towel in. There were many months were I never thought I would be me again. I never would be able to look at my chest and be ok with it. I would never be able to put cancer behind me and move forward. I thought this journey would last forever. I know now how lucky I am, how much worse it all could have been. I may not have the same chest I did 3 years ago, I may not have the same hair I used to. I may be 30 pounds heavier then when this started, but the things I am walking away with, I wouldn't trade them for the world. I have a deeper appreciation for life, I have a desire and drive to see and explore what this world (not if you need a plane to get there) has to offer. I understand how precious our time is. I learned to trust people, to trust myself. I learned to accept things as they happen because I have no control of them. I learned things will work themselves out. The biggest and best thing I am walking away from this journey with is the feeling that I have made a difference. I talk to A LOT of breast cancer patients a day and when they tell me they got a port because of me, or they agreed to chemo after talking to me, or I am the reason they made it through treatments, I can't describe that feeling. That second of feeling like I was the reason someone felt hope, that feeling made every second, every tear, every pain worth it. Closing this book was a tough desicion for me. I have enjoyed writing this (maybe I will start a blog about "Bad Puppy"), I have enjoyed going back and seeing what really happened. Even though this blog means a lot to me, making memories with my family and friends means more. Thank to you everyone who has taken time to read my posts, pass my blog along, leave comments, etc.. I am so happy to say that Amy Lynn's Journey is over and it had the best possible outcome. This book may be closing but the big book, the book of the rest of my life is just starting and I am going to write the best possible story...