"The Business of Life ... "

My annual Happy Holidays card and letter will hit the mail tomorrow. I mention in it to visit this blog for a recap of some of my special memories of 2013. If you are just browsing through and came across this blog, well, happy holidays to you, new friend! If you are looking for the next entry in the breast cancer journey, hang tight ... I'll get back 'round to finishing it off. (Hint: so far it has a happy ending.)

Mr. Carson said, "The business of life is the acquisition of memories." So very well said, sir. (Okay, so Mr. Carson is a fictional man who only lives in the imaginative world of the talented Julian Fellowes and Downton Abbey, but that's no reason I can't admire his words of great truth.) 

I have endured some challenging moments in 2013, but I choose not to dwell on those moments or experiences. Rather, I elect to focus and cherish the positive, inspirational and loving memories deposited into my memory bank. Here are but a few ...

February 1, 2013 found me in San Diego for the Gina Marie Dayton Guardian Angel Foundation Fun Run in honor and celebration of my dear, late friend Gina. It was bittersweet ... many of Gina's family and friends were there and we cherished the experience of honoring her. I'm so proud of her legacy ... and proud to now serve on the Board of Directors of the Gina Marie Dayton Guardian Angel Foundation.

Had the incredible experience of taking my niece, Avery, to Scotland! Mom, Avery and I spent 10 days visiting with our family, touring the sights and savoring every moment we were surrounded by the Scottish culture. To see Avery meet family members she never knew existed and to watch her slide down the same slide I did at Duthie Park with Grandpa Andrew some twenty-five years ago touched my heart. Sweet memories of the generations coming together through one-another.

Truthfully, I have six siblings and I'm the second to the youngest. Yes, I grew up only with my two sisters (Caren and Cheryl) but we always longed to know and meet our four other half-siblings. In June, one of my lifelong dreams came true - I met and was able to hug my eldest sister, Cindy. My brother (Curt) and sister (Kristie) were there, too. Someday I know my special angel in heaven, (Grandma Greaves) is working hard to reunite all seven of us siblings ... for that was her dream.

Annual tradition - Apple Hill with my high-school friend, Ann-Christel & her kids. Couldn't ask for a more loyal and cherished friend of over 20 years. Love being able to share this tradition with them!

Todd and Caren gave the kids a choice a few years back: Disneyland or Hawaii. They all chose Hawaii. And Aunt Cherí got to go with them! We spent nine days on the island of Oahu, staying on the North East shore at a rented house. We went snorkeling (my first time ever!), played in the waves, toured Pearl Harbor and just cherished the incredible memories being made. I couldn't have asked for a better gift than the quality time in paradise with my sister and her family. 

Second year tradition - Oakland A's Breast Cancer Awareness Day - Honoring Survivors - Cherished experience with friends and warrior-sisters Jill, Tammie, and Tina. Truly humbling to be on the field forming a ribbon of pink with all these incredible survivors!

Random memories ... Bronwyn's baptism day, summer cabin fun (thanks Marion & Jim Bench!), events with warrior-sisters and just good old quality time spent with the kids.

There's more to the definition of family than simple biology. I wanted to make sure to include the Freeland Family, for many of my greatest memories of the year have been with them. Julia has been "my person", my best friend for almost ten years and her family (husband Jeff and children, Joey, Logan and Emmie) have become an essential part of my everyday life in Sacramento. Thanks for all you do for me, Freelands, and for sharing so many memories with me throughout the years. Here's to an exciting 2014 and the addition of Miles!

As long as I have the love and support of these women, I'm the richest woman alive. Thank you for all you do for me every day, even from miles away. You are my universe and I love you.

Welcome to Sacramento, Carson!

Carson steers us along the Sacramento River.

"Cousins" - Annie & Carson

Having a wee bit o'fun at the Sacramento Railroad Museum.

Annie finally got to meet her grandma!

On the boat with my sister (Cheryl), mom, and my girl Annie.

Summer Fun

Fall is here ... almost. It's still 90 plus degrees out during the day, but the evenings are now cooled with the hint of a Delta breeze. The leaves are changing colors already, there are pre-season NFL games on television and my favorite Starbucks baristas have promised me that pumpkin spice will be making its return within a few short weeks. I am giddy!

Giddiness is brought out in me in only a few ways ... fall, hanging with a select group of my wacky friends, and being with my family. I was blessed to share five days recently in Utah with my family. Pure joy for me ... my happy place with all 8 kids, my sisters, and my mom all together. 

With niece Avery at my Aunt Marion's & Uncle Jim's cabin in Fairview, Utah

My happy place ... between my sisters!

Six of the eight kids (Andrew & Mitchell were at EFY) with me.

I made sure to steal a moment with all eight of the kids the night before we all left.

The handsome man behind us (left) is our grandfather, Cy Greaves!

Second cousins, Avery and Norah, having fun.

23. Just To Be Safe...

Thursday at 10am I had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Singhal. I was carefully packaged (escorted into my seat) and wrapped (towels as padding from the seat-belt) in the car and driven to her office. It was time to evaluate how well I was healing. (Healing physically that is; the emotional and mental healing, well, a story for a different time.)

My entourage accompanied me.  I felt a mix of semi-celebrity meets wimpy-patient as my crew of Anne, Cheryl and Craig helped me into Dr. Singhal's new, state of the art, very clean and sterile, exam room. I was put on the exam table while Craig took out a newspaper and had a seat. Anne and Cheryl stood over me, protecting me from any potential harm that might fall upon my chest. Dr. Singhal entered the room, cheery and bubbly as ever. 

"Ouch, dang! I hate that damn light!" she exclaimed as she ducked and recovered from having hit her head on the overhanging exam light. "We could have had the track lighting, but that would have cost like $20,000 dollars and that's just wrong to spend that much money on a light." My doctor was so awesome. Cheryl laughed and admired the logic of Dr. Singhal.

The pink tube top was removed and I could breathe. At that moment I realized my life since Monday after surgery had been nothing short of miracle. I hadn't really taken a breath in four days; how was I still alive?!  I wanted to suck in as much air as I could as I was finally, though temporarily, free from the constraint of that damn tube top. But it hurt too much to take deep breaths, so I continued with the shallow breathing technique I had mastered over recent days.

"Looks good. No infection. How are you doing on the pain medication?" Dr. Singhal asked. Someone briefed her on the events of the past few days. "Yeah, stick with the Ibuprofen if you can. That other stuff is really hard on the stomach. So, any questions right now for me?"

"Did you get it all?" I asked of her. 

"Of course. That's my job," she replied. "But while we're on the subject..." Oh boy. This couldn't be good. My imagination took off. Maybe it had spread. Maybe they found I never had cancer and this was all a big oops. Maybe they forgot to put in the spacers for reconstruction. Brain, shut up. Focus on what the doctor has to say.

"The pathologist wants to confirm that there are, in fact, clear margins in one area. The upper quadrant of your right breast, under your armpit area. I'm pretty confident it's all clear. But, to be 100% certain and just to be safe, I have to go back in." (Go back in where? The office? The pathologist's lab?)

She continued, "Let's see, I'm going on vacation next week, so how about the sixteenth?"

I looked at my entourage. Heads were nodding. Whatever Dr. Singhal needed to do was what we were going to do. I realized to where it was she had to return. Surgery was scheduled for November 16th, 2009. So much for giving my incision(s) time to heal.

22. Home Away From Home

The only good thing about recovering from major surgery (besides the obvious of being cancer free) was being able to stay in the warm, welcoming embrace and home of the Graham family. Ken and Anne, the in-laws of my dear friend Ann-Christel, graciously offered me their guest quarters for my recovery stay. (Their house was only minutes from the hospital and would be much more convenient for me than driving the two hours back to Sacramento the day after major surgery.) Anne's a nurse, but even more comforting to me, she's a mom and grandma. She made sure I had everything I could possibly need, including written instructions on how to operate the remote control for the television. 

It was a luxury to be able to rest in a quiet and comfortable environment and not have to worry about the slightest thing. My sister, Cheryl, and Anne spent a great deal of time together, as I slept the majority of each day. They made meals, watched television, talked, and just hung out together. They bonded.

Together, they kept me in the lap of luxury. Well, as much luxury as one can expect to have when you're wearing a tube top & pajama bottoms, have drains hanging out of the sides of your chest and plastic containers (collecting the excess fluid) safety-pinned to your tube top and you spend your entire day in bed. Even so, I didn't want for a thing. They made sure I had my water bottle filled with ice water at all times (gotta wash those drugs outta your system). If I needed my pillow adjusted, they did it for me. Cheryl and Anne made sure I took my medications on schedule, several times each day. Anne watched over and helped Cheryl as she learned how to clean the drains and measure the excess fluid accumulation. They asked me repeatedly if I wanted anything to eat, but the thought of exerting any energy to even chew food sounded like too much effort for my weakened body. Ann-Christel came by to visit at one point and I think I fell asleep while she was talking to me. She graciously and kindly let me sleep. I was disappointed in myself because I desperately wanted to visit, talk, catch up on the years of our lives we had missed. Instead, I fell asleep.

Surgery had been on Monday and Tuesday afternoon I was sent home (Grahams') to recover. I wasn't feeling too terrible Tuesday evening, all that being relative of course. Anne warned me that the next day would be the worst. Not to anyone's surprise, she was right.

I had been prescribed Vicodin to help relieve my pain during recovery but was also given 800mg prescription Ibuprofen to take between the doses of Vicodin. Wednesday morning found me feeling somewhat better, though temporarily. Food sounded somewhat good. I joined the family at the dinner table and thought, hey, maybe I'm going to be okay and on the mend here. Woo hoo!

Two bites of mashed potatoes later, I gingerly yet as quickly as I could, excused myself to my guest quarters (fortunately just down the hallway). The two bites of food didn't stay with me long. Now, imagine the pain of heaving your recently-sliced-open-and-sewn-together chest as you throw up kneeling over a toilet. I would have cried, but that would have just hurt even more. Cheryl came in to check on me just as I was exiting the restroom to wash up. Anne followed moments later. Together, they helped me through the next wave of sickness - Cheryl holding my hair out of my face and Anne holding the bowl in front of me as I vomited again. Truly not one of my proudest moments. I apologized repeatedly for them having to be there through that experience and they both just comforted me with words of love and compassion. They understood there was absolutely nothing I could have done to change the course of events and that I was desperate for their help in getting through it. I begged Cheryl (as I did many, many times over the week) to make sure I was clean. She gave me sponge-baths as I sat in the chair in the bathroom. I was obsessed with being clean and did not want to smell badly. Aw, a sister's love and compassion are priceless.

Note to self: Vicodin sucks. Anne was the one who suggested that it could be the Vicodin taking its toll on my stomach. We elected to try switching just to the Ibuprofen from then on. Thankfully, that one episode of being sick was the only episode and the Ibuprofen worked well enough at keeping my pain at bay. I think I eventually managed a piece of toast and was full before finishing it.

Later that evening (perhaps the next day, I can't recall),  Anne's daughter, Kate, came by to visit her parents. While Kate's nursing experience was with babies and critical heart conditions, drains were no stranger for her. She came right into the guest room and helped clean the drains hanging from my chest. It's an odd first introduction, I admit, but hell, sometimes you can't help when and where you meet wonderful people. And Kate, well, she's definitely good people!

These people didn't know me before all of this. They simply accepted me as their daughter-in-law's friend, knew I needed help and that was all they needed to know about me. They opened their home and hearts to a stranger and gave her the most incredible gift ... extended family.

I asked Cheryl to recap for me what she recalls about those days at the Graham's home. This is her email reply to me:

"You slept and watched TV and Anne and I talked in the living room. I played with the little grandson, I think his name was Parker?  She told me about her dad's military service and that the medals on the wall were all his and that it represented a lot of sacrifice. We watched recorded episodes of Dancing with the Stars or So You Think You Can Dance. We talked and talked. I remember you were very sick from the meds and Craig and I went to the store to get you a lot of meds. He seemed worried. I held your hair while Anne held the bowl for you to throw up in.  I had to wake you to take meds and kept track of them on my hand because otherwise I would have lost my record keeping.  I was tired! Um, you ate dry toast one time. Anne told me that during difficult situations you can never change the wind, you can only adjust your sails. We would lay in bed together and watch TV during the day...if you fell asleep doing so, I would leave and go be with Anne.  I washed your face and top part of your body so you'd feel clean (always a big thing with us isn't it?!) Um, what else...their home was beautiful and felt so homey to me.  Even though we had never met them, I felt like we had known them all our lives and I remember loving that at such a difficult time.  I loved being with them. Ken was amazing and I loved him instantly. He has remained on my mind ever since as being one of the classiest, kind, generous, genuine men I've EVER met.  I adore him to this day.  I feel the same about Anne. I remember their family dinners each night. They all talked and seemed like such a wonderful family. They made me feel so included and like I was part of the family."

Like I said, we were with family. I had gained an additional set of parents ... Anne and I chose Momca (Mom+California) and Ken, well, he's Dadca. I'm forever in their debt and gratitude. I strive to pay forward their kindness, if even only in a fraction of the magnitude they showed me. 

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Broadcast ...

Time for a brief intermission, folks. Get up, stretch your legs, go for a walk. Come back and read this entry. I thought I'd share with you some of the other things happening in my life recently. And then, I promise to get back to recounting the adventure I like to call "beating the hell out of breast cancer".


I travel. I travel a lot. I have to. My passion in life is my family and they don't live anywhere near me. I'm on a plane maybe once a month, maybe every six weeks. Lately, however, I have been living out of my suitcase and have spent more hours in an airplane and/or airports than I have in my own bed!

For those of you new to my blog (thank you for visiting), you'll come to learn I love photographs of life's moments ... documents of memories-made and cherished experiences. Here are a few random pictures from my last couple months of travel and miscellaneous moments. Enjoy!


Late May found me in Phoenix visiting family ...

Taking a break from swimming with nephew Charlie.

Ready, set, go! Marshall, Carson & Charlie having fun!

Three of my adored nephews ... an evening at the park.

 

 

I was honored to take photos of Elder Guy Soper, a dear family friend, just weeks before he left Phoenix for the MTC and then his mission for the LDS church. Guess where he was called to serve? Yep, Sacramento. :)

The following weekend, I flew to Santa Ana to attend my half-sister's (Cindy) wedding. Oh, and I met her that day for the first time ever. It's a long story, but one that I am honored and thrilled to say is finally finding its happy forever after ...

I had tears in my eyes as I watched my eldest sister walk down the aisle and make a quick glance and smile in my direction. Isn't she the most beautiful bride?

Three of the six sisters here ... Cindy, Kristie and me. Family love is unconditional.

June 7-9, found me in Billings, Montana for my youngest niece's (Bronwyn) baptism. Despite knowing I'd see all the family three days later (Hawaii trip), it was never an option for me to miss Bronwyn's baptism. I promised each of the kids I'd be there on their special day and I'm honored to say thus far I am six-for-eight ... two more to go. 

Andrew, 16, baptized his youngest sister.

A quick hug with auntie ... love you, Sweet Pea!

Smile!

My "test subjects" .. aka, my secret term for convincing them to help me find just the right lighting/poses for a photo shoot when all I really wanted was just a cute picture of these two. Shhhh, don't tell them. :)

So, I returned home to Sacramento Monday and Tuesday left for Hawaii. I met my sister, Caren, and her family at LAX and we set off to Oahu for 8 days. Talk about paradise! It was an incredible vacation and I loved every moment of the time spent with my sister, brother-in-law Todd and the five kids. There are too many pictures to post here, but I'll show you a few of them. (Check my FB page for the larger collection, if you dare.)

First time snorkeling ... yes, I accept the fact I look like a complete dork here, but it was a fabulous experience and what a joy it was to see the sea turtles with the kids.

Hanauma Bay ... beautiful!

Caught the sunset with my nephew, Andrew. Can't believe he is now a senior!

With my beautiful and amazing sister, Caren.

Shell hunting on the beach with niece Bronwyn.

Is a caption really necessary for this??

What a view of BYU Hawaii!

Proof that I did, indeed, get in the water and attempt to boogie-board.

My sister and her family ... love you guys! (Andrew refused to let me take any good photos of him smiling until I showed him up in the water, boogie boarding. Can you tell from his expression?!)

The kids all went into the pond under the falls at Waimea.

Building a sand castle.

The Montana kids get introduced to the big ocean!

Niece Avery, always smiling, stops to say cheese for me!

Mitchell & Callum as we toured Pearl Harbor.

Touring Pearl Harbor was incredible. The loss, sacrifices and yet ultimate survival and resilience touched my soul deeply.

I returned home late on a Wednesday night, went to work the following day and that evening attended Logan's preschool graduation. Friends are often the family we choose for ourselves and never has this been more true than with my Sacramento-Family, the Freeland Clan. I'm so blessed to be part of their extended family.

Julia and Logan are all smiles after graduation.

That's our Logan ... his smile will melt your heart!

Saturday, June 22nd, I spent the day volunteering at the annual Albie Puttin' Pub Crawl for a local breast cancer awareness and advocacy group that is incredibly important to me. This event is always a blast and I thank my sweet friend and sister-survivor-warrior, Tammie, for helping again this year.

Setting up before the golfers come by ...

Before I leave you today, let me share one last photo with you. I took this back in May in Scotland and I love it for one reason ... it's a reminder to me (as the amateur photographer I am) to always find what's important and focus on that and that alone. For me, my life's focus is my family, my friends, the kids ... love never fails, folks.

We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming ... the journey of my breast cancer battle shall continue on in my next post. Stay tuned.

21. Recovery

At one point during the night, I buzzed for the nurse. I felt like I needed to use the restroom but was confused because the catheter was meant to take care of that for me (thus saving me from having to get out of bed mere hours after having my chest torn open). 

"Let's take a look," the nurse said. "Oh, yeah, it's just tangled." And just like that, that "need" disappeared. My relief in knowing I wouldn't have to get out of bed just yet, was short lived. The nurses told me I had to get up and try standing, maybe even walking a bit. They couldn't be serious, I thought to myself. But, oh yes, they were indeed serious. 

Try this at home ... get flat on your back on your bed ... try to swing your legs over to the edge, bring your upper torso upright and try to stand up ... seems simple enough, right? Try having to do that while attempting to protect every chest muscle possible. Torture. Pain. Impossible. Where's the morphine push button?!

The nurse was ever so patient with me. She reminded me to take it slowly. I didn't listen (I have been accused of being somewhat stubborn at times) and I immediately felt very light headed. Slow down, Cherí, easy now. I eventually made it to a position resembling upright, though remained somewhat hunched over instinctively protecting my ripped apart chest. I took a few steps and was congratulated by the nurse. Job well done. Whew, back to bed I went. That was exhausting!

Cheryl and Craig visited and brought me my cherished Starbucks. I was so excited to see the familiar white cup with the green logo on it! (Admit it, you get that way, too.) Sadly, I wasn't feeling like eating or drinking much and coffee just sounded like it would rip to shreds my stomach, which was completely empty. The beautiful cup sat on the tray, untouched. 

Another visitor stopped by and, despite being still somewhat drugged up, I was completely mortified. In walked the hospital CEO, Mr. Ken Graham, to say hello and check in on me. He was the picture of elegance, prestige, professionalism, dressed in a suit and wearing his best accessory - a warming, contagious smile. I knew I looked a bit like death-warmed-over, I was in a hospital gown with green socks up to my knees, those pressure boots on, not an ounce of makeup (not even lip gloss!), my hair strands were fighting with one another, and I had drains sticking out of the sides of my body! What a first impression I must have made. The moment he smiled at me and said good morning, nothing else mattered. This was the man who, along with his family, played an enormous role in helping to save my life. I would have hugged him if I could have gotten myself out of bed. He stayed but a short minute or two, wished me all the best in my recovery, said to let him know I needed anything at all, and then was off. His smile lingered with me, though.

My doctors both stopped by to check in on me. I needed their approval before I could be released from the hospital. They both seemed quite pleased with their work and my physical response to the surgery and agreed I could be on my way. Before Dr. Singhal left the room, I asked her one question. 

"Did you get it all out?" I asked of my surgical-oncologist, referring to not only the remaining breast tissue but also the cancer the general surgeon had not been able to remove from my chest wall during the double lumpectomy. There was no delay, no thought, no question in her mind as to how to respond.

"Of course. That's my job," she confidently assured me. "That's what I'm trained to do." I nodded my head and smiled. I knew in that moment just why I had fought so hard to have her be allowed to treat me. That day, she saved my life. 

** Below is a photo taken the day after the double mastectomy. It shows my chest with the first stages of implants, along with the scars and drains. It's graphic, so consider yourself warned. **