Photo Sunday

Life is crazy right now. I'm working really more than doing anything else, but the TAKS is in two weeks, so by May I'll be back to a normal life.

I'm good, though. Besides work, I can say that I'm 100% happy right now. If you know anything about what's been going on, you've probably already figured out that my two cancer support homies are doing good. One has been called "cured," a word which none of us have ever even heard from a doctor before. She was so positive and upbeat through the whole treatment, it was really amazing. And now she's home, like a trooper, healing and doing well. So could be possibly ask for more?

And my other friend is home again and thanks to her crazy strength and tenacity, the treatment she finally finished brought about great news in her last scan. She is now eligible for a transplant and we are excited about this big news. It seems we have all been very blessed, and I am so thankful. Not to downplay what these ladies have been through, but it seems there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I could go into all the things I've been dwelling over, like how every time something huge like this comes up, I revert right back to hopelessness. That's actually not entirely true, though. If I give myself some credit and am honest, I think that, little by little, I'm doing better every time. I know what I need to do, and that is sincerely and earnestly begin working on myself, coming to peace with the way things are and learning how to live in the moment instead of always wondering about if things will be okay. Admitting that is the first step, I guess, so I need to go about researching and planning a way to do that.

That being said, I thought I'd post some photos, including some things I am thankful for, and then get back to work. May is melanoma awareness month, and I've got some big plans! Can't wait to show you what I'm up to.

And now the photos:

1. This is me at the boxing gym I go to. These boys you see in the photo have become family to me, and they are a regular part of my week. Boxing has been a blessing to me, a way to relieve stress and just another thing that I have in my life that constantly teaches me that I am always in progress, and, simultaneously, always complete.

2. Pink hair is one of the simple pleasures in life.

3. Joy and me. What a blessing having a friend like this is. Our friendship sort of solidified over night, when I was in the midst of a horrible time in my life last year (see this post). She practically carried me through this time, and she's still around every time I need to hear that the TAKS test is not the end of life.

4. The Dude action figure that I have in the kitchen, right beside the Poptarts. Need I say more?

5. Me skating. Now, I'm not going too front and say I do this all the time, because this photo was taken the one and only time I've ever been on a half pipe. But eventually, I know I'll do this again. Maybe even twice.

6. This photo is from last weekend at the Deep Ellum Arts festival, a street fair type gig. And way too much fun for one day. Don't we look fabulous? I'm so happy I'm glowing.

7. These are my girls, and another example of the amazing things that can come into your life when you're down. I can always rely on when I need shop, go out to a club, have a few cocktails, worship handbags, talk about Edward Cullen, or dance. I'm so thankful for them.

8. and 9. Bear is the happiest dog alive. Bobby always threatens to write a book on how to live life like Bear, because this girl does it right.



That's it for now. I'll be back in 2 weeks.

Take care till then.

-MM

Today's Lesson

Never take for granted a single day that you are free to walk around without an IV.
Or a day you are not forced to stay in the hospital. It is so easy to forget, isn't it? And yet the average person is so very lucky.

Truly Magical

I found a site tonight called Dear God, Hear Us, One Prayer at a Time by way of Leslie's blog, which I also discovered tonight. Both are great. But anyway, not the point.

So on this Dear God site, people write in their prayers. It's a crazy experience to read other people's intimate prayers, especially the ones from people who are so hurt and so angry. And there are a lot of those, as, in these days and times, you might expect. But then, I came upon this amazing prayer below, which totally lit up my day. And he's here in Dallas! One more reason to be happy, people. I am overwhelmed by the humility, patience and love he has for each moment and for himself. I can only aspire to such, but maybe one day...














Dear Universe,

It is with a heavy, exhausted heart that I say, “thanks”. Deep in my heart I know that I am feeling exactly what I need to, in order to move into my next moment. Sometimes I try to force myself into the next moment quicker than time (your heartbeat) wants me to. You want me to enjoy and learn from each beat. I try, each day, I try. I am also trying to not turn the hands of time backwards. I know, each moment is precious, and I thank you for that. That, and all of the people, experiences, good things and bad things that are part of each moment, I am thankful. From these people and things I learn - I try to take the good forward and leave the bad behind. Thank you Universe for all of these things, including my very tough day today.
I love you and me.

Steven, Dallas/USA

Nine Ways to Find Peace of Mind

1. Start a blog and meet the most amazing people on earth.
2. Try to listen to what they say and internalize it.

The other 7 are hopefully coming soon.

If I had more than just a moment

... I would tell you all about the amazing epiphany I've had about teaching these last few weeks.

... My story about recent boxing success would entertain and delight you.

... You'd get to read all about an encounter with my former self. Juicy.

... I would beg and beg you to send positive vibes for my students on April 8th for the math TAKS. (You still have to do that, btw.)


But, since I don't have it, all you get is this:

I do love you though. Just one more week until spring break.


-MM

GREAT NEWS!

Ok, we are stunned, speechless, literally.
Not only did the oncologist just come in to check on Lori, he also brought the path report.

NO MELANOMA!!!!!

When the oncologist did the PET scan, he was 99% sure it was melanoma. 1% baby, crazy odds, but we'll take 'em!

We don't know what to say or think. We didn't expect any news until Friday. We can't thank everyone enough for all of your prayers, thoughts and well wishes.

Stunned. Completely Stunned.
More to come...
Bobby

Thank YOU

Before I do anything else today, I need to thank some very special people who have been providing some much needed support these last few months:
To Peter, Melissa, Holly, Shannon, Gregg, (and any other MPIPers that I've forgotten to mention)- thank you for your constant supply of strength and knowledge. It has truly been a blessing finding you.
To Andrea, Jacki Doss and Jacki Donaldson, Stephanie, and my friends and family that read and comment regularly, as well as all you lurkers who are showing your support just by being here.

To my co-workers who have been checking in and picking up my slack.
And especially to:
Mandy, Carver, Kim, and of course, to Faith, Linda, and Katherine- my sisters, where would I be without you? You have been my rock, my means for finding something positive in all of this, even when I didn't want to. Thank you for giving your free time and energy and wisdom and hope. If I worked from now till forever, I don't see how I could possibly repay you all.
And Bobby- what can I say to you? My God, there are no words to express it. The only thing that even comes close is to say that you have no idea how wonderful you are and that you've made every moment of my life exponentially more amazing.

Okay, wow! That was all very deep and very cheesy, but very necessary. I sincerely thank you all.

-L

Thank God it's Doomsday

Thank God for my job. I say that because lately it's been the only time I don't obsess about whether we'll do radiation or surgery. Not that it matters, really. Why am I so concerned about this? In a way it feels silly. I mean, it's not like I'm sitting around waiting to find out if I have cancer or not. The truth is, I know it's there. And I feel like we'll do whatever it takes right now to get rid of this, and then continue to be vigilant and fight it whenever (did I say whenever, I meant IF ever) it comes back. When I say it like that, it seems like no big deal. And yet it's eating up my thoughts, always there in the back of my mind, nagging me. Like a big, "What IF?" The crazy thing is I've never felt like the what-ifs in life were worth pondering. Why waste that energy? Now, it feels like it's all I do. What if..... That's different for me, as a person who has lived her life fairly fearlessly up until now. I've never been much for limiting any activity due to fear, including things that I probably should've been more afraid of. Maybe I've been in denial this whole time, acting like I'm immortal, acting like nothing can hurt me, diving into the moment despite the little fear that was there. It's worked, though! I've always felt very alive, and now, here I am, realizing just how human and fragile I can be. And it's overwhelming, of course. I try to just be myself and at the same time grasp these new feelings. Sometimes I'm a basketcase. I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry in the bathroom at work. I've had the same headache for 3, 4 weeks now- the type of headache I have to take Vicodin to get relief from. But, it's a process. I'm working through it. I'm a healer, I'm healing. I'm a freakin' machine. A healing machine.
Bobby and I had an argument yesterday- ok, more like a disagreement- about vacationing this summer, and I swear I thought I was losing my mind. We had essentially decided that plans we've been making all year are not going to happen. I felt like we don't even know what we'll be doing in the next 5 years, how many times we'll be fighting cancer, when I'll have to be in the hospital, when we'll have another chance to just go and do. I threw a fit. Do you know how long it's been since I pulled a "I'm locking myself in my room" fit? High school at least, maybe even jr. high. Good God. I really did come near to a break down. And I finally just let myself cry and lose it and feel sorry for myself, and after about an hour of that, I felt better. Like way better. I don't know why I fight being so human like that, but it's ridiculous. If I would just accept my feelings for what they are, it'd be a whole lot easier to move on from there. Just a bit of advice for the rest of you Wonder women out there.
Thank God for Gilda's Club. I come full out on Thursday and say I'm happy my cancer is back- o.k., not happy, but you know, relieved- and almost everyone in the room said they knew how I felt! Where else can you get that? I don't think I could even pay a room of people to be that convincing.
Thank God for all of you. I really don't know what I would've done if I hadn't had so many of you writing me, calling me, posting comments. Emails full of advice. Emails that brought tears to my eyes. Emails from complete strangers that offered their home to me and old me their own stories that are so similar to mine. Beautiful stories of hope. I sincerely can not thank all of you enough. I can't list all 109 of you right now, but just know that you're loved.

More scans have been ordered. I'll let you know what they say. Thank you again for all that y'all do.

-MM

And now, for something completely different

Your thoughts and comments and well wishes have brought me to tears more than once this week. Thank you so much, all of you, for your support. It has made all the difference while I waited for the results. I have been so touched and moved by your comments, and given such hope and strength by your words.

And now, for something completely different.

No, this is not my PET scan. But yes, I had a lymph node light up on my scan that my doc said he's "99.9% sure is melanoma." A little unsure as of today if they can do surgery, because the lymph node that he was originally concerned about was just scar tissue, and the lymph node that lit up is actually "very deep in the pelvis." So, if they can't do surgery, they'll do radiation. Good news is that he feels very confident that radiation will eradicate it. Did I spell that right? Oh, well.

If anyone has any experience with this, please write me. I'm a little confused as to whether this melanoma is spreading or if they just missed a node. I should've asked all this to the doc, but you know how this is when you first hear the news.

Thanks again to all of you. And thank you Carver for all your help and all the information that you provide so regularly.

-L