Summertime

We are having a heatwave in Seattle. It never gets above about 80 degrees here but for the past several days we have been in the high 90's, even hitting 100. We just aren't used to it here so we all complain that it is too hot and that it doesn't cool down at night. Our animals are listless and no one will even consider cooking. The plants are all drooping and the grass is turning brown.

All that being said, this summer has been fantastic. I can't help but comare it to last summer. I did my first chemo on July 9 and continued to do it every three weeks until September. I don't think it was this hot last summer, but I really don't remember because I spent a good majority of the summer sleeping on the couch or in bed. I also spent most of the summer wishing I could do more with my family. It's not that they weren't around-they were and they were very supportive, but all plans had to go through the chemo filter; was it a chemo week? Was I going to feel good enough to do anything? I was also working full time with intermittent leaves of absence for each round of chemo. Last summer, I just wanted my life back.

Yesterday was the perfect definition of having my life back. It was so hot in the house that by 10:00am we were all sweating. The girls and I decided to pack a cooler and head to the lake. Our neighborhood sits on this lake and we have a private park and beach access so there is no need to fight a crowd. We packed a lunch, took a big air mattress and some sunscreen and headed out to float. We played on the beach for awhile with my sister and her 3 daughters, then lathered ourselves in sunscreen and jumped on the air mattress. We floated the lake for several hours, jumping in occasionally to cool off.

When Larry came home, he joined us at the lake. We had a chance to catch up with some neighbors who were also there and to cool off. We came home and barbecued some burgers and sat outside to eat. It was too hot to go back in the house so we stayed outside playing cards with the girls until we could no longer see the cards. I love my life-heatwave or no heatwave, and I am extremely grateful to have it back.

Raising the Roof and Raising Funds

Last night our 3 day team had a fundraising event. There were survivor type games, a silent auction, a casino, horseshoe tournament and raffles. This was no quiet, meek crowd-this party was hopping all day and night! The party was at our team captain's house and while there was plenty of drinking, horseplay and general rowdiness, none of us forgot for one second why we were there. We were there to raise money to fight breast cancer.

Fundraising comes in all shapes and colors. Some people send personalized letters, some do bake sales and car washes and some throw a party. We threw a party and it was a heck of a good one. Our little party out in the middle of nowhere raised over$15,000.00! As a team we are now at a little over $112,000.00 with 52 members going strong.

With dedication and support like what I witnessed last night, breast cancer doesn't stand a chance. It is going to have a brief, miserable life.

Thank you to everyone who donated or contributed in any way to last night's fundraiser. I can't wait until the day when we throw a party not to raise money but to celebrate the demise of breast cancer.

In Good Hands

Albert B. Einstein Jr



The original Einstein

Today I went in for a 3 month checkup with my oncologist. Though I have always been happy with the care that I have received at Swedish Hospital, I really did not want to be there today. I just didn't. I am enjoying being part of the land of the healthy. I didn't want to be sitting there with people who are bald and sick and waiting to go through chemo. That isn't where my head is at these days. I didn't want to have my blood drawn or get on a scale, I didn't want to be poked and prodded and I wasn't excited about having my second Zometa infusion. I wanted to be at home enjoying the warm weather.

My oncologist is not only a fabulous doctor (one of the top 3 in Seattle) she is also very similar to me. She is my age, she has two children and she is a breast cancer survivor. I was lamenting to her about not wanting to come in today. She laughed and said that she has learned to not take it personally that people really don't look forward to seeing her. She also said that in her own cancer journey, she really doesn't want to go see her oncologist either.

The appointment went well and she doesn't want to see me for another 3 months. The zometa infusion was also uneventful. I can expect to not feel well tomorrow, but I am keeping my fingers crossed that this is not the case.

I had to have my doctor sign a medical waiver for me to be able to walk in this year's 3 day walk. Per the 3 day guidelines it has to be on official letterhead. My doctor gave me her blessing to walk and wrote it out on her letterhead, which I did not look through until after my Zometa infusion. The official letterhead has a list of all of the doctors that are in the cancer institute. At the very top? Executive Director-Albert B. Einstein Jr. It made me laugh. Albert Einstein and I share a birthday so I have always had a connection to him. I guess if Albert Einstein can spend his time at Swedish Hospital, I can do it too. I am in good hands.

Isn't it strange how as you get older, your memory sometimes isn't as clear as it used to be? If you asked me what I had for lunch yesterday, I probably couldn't tell you. I don't remember it because it wasn't particularly significant. Why is it then that when I woke up this morning the first thing I thought about is that it is July 9th and last year this was the first day of chemo?

I really don't spend all of my time thinking about cancer anymore. I used to, but now I think about other things and getting on with my life. But today I remembered the feelings that were there on July 9th of last year. Dread, fear, anxiety, denial. I kept thinking that someone would tell me during that day that it was all a mistake and I really didn't have cancer and I really didn't need to do chemo.

I kissed my children goodbye without tears but when the babysitter walked me out to the door I started to cry. I'm not sure why-she is a 17 year old girl who definitely had no concept of what I was going to endure that day. She is a family friend though and maybe the tears were because I wanted to be the one that stayed there with my girls. I didn't want to have to have a babysitter to go do something that I was dreading.

Today Larry and I are leaving to go away for the weekend with 5 other couples. We have been doing this trip for 14 years with the same group of people. It is a weekend where we laugh our heads off for 4 days and I am very much looking forward to it. Some of the best memories of my life are from these trips. Maybe I will have a toast tonight to surviving through chemo. Maybe I will toast to having such great friends. Maybe I will toast to having memories-both good and bad.

Clean as a Whistle

It has been nearly a month since my surgery. I am feeling pretty good although still have a good amount of swelling and a part of a scar that is not cooperating as much as my doctor would like. Overall though, I would call my surgery a success. I am a much more comfortable size and am back to being symmetrical.

Since I have been diagnosed with cancer before, anytime I have any type of surgery on my breasts, the tissue must go to pathology to be tested. I knew that this was the case and it has definitely caused me just a tiny bit of concern. While I have been physically healing, I continued to have this little nagging thought in the back of my mind that the pathology reports might come back with news that I didn't want to hear.

I hadn't heard anything from my oncologist who received the report so I just kept telling myself that no news must be good news, but I finally called and asked to have an official report. Her nurse called me yesterday to tell me that my pathology report came back clean as a whistle. No sign of cancer in any of the breast tissue that was removed.

Both Larry and I nearly cried when we heard. I didn't realize how much it was weighing on both of us that there was still an unknown. I have an MRI and a mammogram later this month as part of my preventative maintenance plan. For the first and probably only time, I will go into them calmly and without worry.

Through Her Eyes

It is the last week of school for my children which means they have been bringing home all of the "valuable junk" that they have in thier lockers and their desks. While most of it is truly junk, I found a collection of poems that Cailey wrote for an assignment. One of them brought me to tears.

The phone rings loudly
My mom answers it quickly
My mom has Cancer

Cailey was the only person at home with me when I got that call from my doctor telling me that I had cancer. I cried so hard that I couldn't talk to her to tell her what was wrong. She immediately went into action and grabbed the phone and asked me who she should call. In the end, she called my sister as my husband was on a bike ride without his phone. It was Cailey that had to sit with me during the initial shock.

I have worried about how my having been diagnosed with cancer would affect my kids and for the most part I think they are pretty grounded and well-adjusted.

What I didn't realize though is that the moment when I received that phone call is so vividly imprinted in her head. Just one moment, that is all it took.

I hope to imprint many happy memories over the top of that one. As always, I am humbled by the compassion, love and inner beauty of my children.

Shower

I am fully aware that I chose to have this most recent surgery and that many people are in a position of requiring surgery instead of electing to do so. I know all of that and I also know that there is a certain amount of recovery time needed for any type of surgery. I also know that I am lucky to have only minor pain and some swelling to contend with.

What I do still have to contend with though is stitches and surgical dressing which means I do not get to shower until they are gone! There is a certain appeal to not showering for one day and lounging around in your pajamas and I did that for a day or two. But besides taking shallow/sponge baths and having my kids wash my hair for me, I have not taken a shower for over a week. It is starting to drive me crazy.

This is a good lesson for me-note to self: Never agree to sign up for the Survivor Reality Show where you can't shower for a month.

Overall, I am happy with the surgery and the results. I have a slight concern about the amount of fluid I still have on my right side but the rest seems like normal swelling to me. I am glad to be done with surgeries for quite awhile.

I am happy, but can a girl just take a shower already??

3 Day Expo

Today I have been asked to sit on a panel to discuss fundraising ideas for the 3 Day event. The expo is at Shoreline Community College. I am honored to be asked. I have raised 6850.00 so far and still have until September to continue to raise money. I hope to be able to take advantage of everything the expo has to offer and if I can offer up an idea or two to others in their fundraising efforts-even better.

My grandmother is going with me to the expo. I am thrilled that she wants to see what the hoopla is all about!

Back in the Saddle

Surgery went quite well. I ended up staying one night in the hospital for no real reason except so my surgeon could change my dressings in the morning. I am definitely swollen and have many colorful bruises, but have been off of pain medication since Sunday and feeling not bad. No surgeries are fun, and this one is no exception. Because tissue was taken out, I have to be wrapped to keep the swelling down. Mostly this makes me feel like a human sausage, but that is what I signed up for. I go in tomorrow for my post op appointment so will have a chance to actually see the results.

I am on the mend and I thank everyone for their good wishes.

Under the knife

The weather has been so incredibly beautiful and I have been able to spend time working in our yard. It is nice to be feeling back to normal so I have the energy to do so.

It is that part that makes me a little anxious about tomorrow's surgery. I have been feeling really great for several months now as far as my energy, strength etc and I hate to give that up again. But I will do it anyway.

Tomorrow I will go back in to Swedish for some reconstructive surgery. Because I had a lumpectomy and the amount of tissue they removed was pretty large, I am not very symmetrical currently. I have three choices to deal with this; 1)live with it, 2)get an implant on the left side to match the right side, 3)Reduce the size of the right one to match the left one. I have chosen option 3. I have been large breasted since high school and previous to all of this breast cancer mess had thought seriously about doing a breast reduction. I will have a reduction on both sides so that I am symmetrical and smaller.

There are definitely risks to this surgery as the left side has been radiated and radiated skin and tissue sometimes have a difficult time healing. Radiated tissue also develops into scar tissue so most of what is there currently is scar tissue which could make the actual procedure more difficult for the surgeon.

I am not at all looking forward to having to face recovery from more surgery, but I'm hoping this will be my last one for quite awhile. I am however looking forward to having a cup size that is closer to the beginning of the alphabet and having two breasts that are the same size and shape.

Because I have had cancer, all tissue removed will go to pathology. This of course scares the daylights out of me to think that they might find something that I am currently unaware of, but I think it will also be good to make sure there truly is no cancer left. I will keep my fingers crossed that they will find just plain, boring tissue.

My friend Michael went under the knife this week for oral cancer and my friend Ankie will go under the knife one more time on June 11th for breast cancer. Cancer is definitely keeping the surgeons busy! I am thankful that my surgery is elective and that I can say this will be the last one. I look forward to the day that the three of us can celebrate our victories.

Ups and Downs

Last night I was asked to walk a Survivor's Lap in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life of Kent. It is the survivors that start the relay for the participants. I was honored to be able to walk with all the other purple-shirt wearing survivors. The survivors come in all shapes and sizes. There are grandparents, teenagers and everything in between. There was even a beautiful little 2 year old girl who was diagnosed at 11 weeks of age.

I am glad that I was able to participate. It was uplifting to see all of the survivors and to know that people really can win the battle. It was also wonderful to see all of the teams who have invested so much time and effort into fundraising and who are willing to camp in the middle of a football field in order to show the degree to which they support cancer research.

When I was first diagnosed in May of last year, I had two friends who had been diagnosed before me. Marty Hauer and Michael Cranstoun. We were all diagnosed with different types of cancer, at different stages and with different treatment plans, but somehow I still had this mental image of the 3 of us in the fight against cancer together. Unfortunately, Marty lost his fight and passed away in June. He was a true hero and left a beautiful wife and two wonderful children behind. Last night at the Relay event, I saw his wife and daughter. It is only the second time that I have seen them since he passed away. Though I was thrilled to see them, I was extremely saddened by the fact that cancer took away one of the truly great people in the world.

I also saw Michael and his family there. His church has been extremely supportive of his journey and had a team of walkers at the event. Michael has a type of oral cancer that was completely unexpected. He does not have a family history of the disease and is not and has never been a tobacco user. He finished chemo and radiation just before I started last year and has been supportive and a good friend to me ever since.

I was happy to see Michael, his lovely wife and two great children there walking and helping to find a cure for cancer. I was saddened however to learn that what Michael suspected was a recurrence was confirmed. Not surprisingly, he has a range of emotions to go along with this diagnosis. I have a range of emotions for him as well; anger, fear, disbelief, but also hope, gratitude that he has such an amazing support system with his friends, family and church and maybe just a tiny bit of something close to relief. Not relief that his cancer has returned, but relief that someone finally diagnosed it correctly. It is never good to get a cancer diagnosis. But there is something to be said for knowing which dragon you must slay so you can properly prepare for the fight.

As darkness came last night, the participants lit luminarias that completely surrounded the field. Though it was a beautiful tribute to those who have lost their battle, those who have won their battle and those who continue to fight their battle, it was heartbreaking to have a visual reminder of how many people have had their lives in the balance because of cancer.

In the stands, the luminarias spelled out two words: HOPE and CURE. In memory of Marty, for Michael, for me and everyone else who is battling or has battled cancer, I will continue to hope for a cure. Maybe next year we can add another word....NOW.

I have included a link to Michael's blog to the left. I'm praying for you Michael.

May 28th Again

May 28th 2008. My husband drove me to the hospital. My parents were there when we arrived. It was their 25th wedding anniversary and instead of being out celebrating, they were at the hospital with me. There were two opposing emotions going on that day for me....fear and relief. I have never been so scared in my life as I was when I found out I had cancer. There was exactly 21 days between my diagnosis and my surgery to remove the tumor. They were by far, the worst 21 days of my life. The fear for me during those three weeks was something that was so heavy and real, I could feel it as a physical weight. It stopped me from being able to breathe and I had to constantly remind myself to do so. I had to be reminded to eat because I didn't recognize hunger anymore. I spent every minute of every day worrying about leaving my children and family behind. Cancer kills people-this was all I could think about.

When I found a surgeon that came highly recommended to me, I called his receptionist and literally coerced her into putting me on his surgery schedule even before I met him. I wanted it done as soon as possible. I did not want to give it a chance to move or spread. I wanted it gone. Luckily for me, this great surgeon met me and allowed me to keep the surgery date that I had already put my name on. That date was May 28th.

I was scared, but I was so relieved to be able to take some kind of action to keep it from killing me. I knew that I would have to recover from surgery, and I knew that I would then have to do chemo and then radiation and that none of it would be enjoyable. But I couldn't do any of that without taking that first scary step.

On May 28th I had a lumpectomy and had 4 lymph nodes removed. 4 cancer-free lymph nodes. That night I stayed in the hospital-a place not known for allowing a good night's sleep, but sleep I did. I knew that I had a tough road ahead, but I also knew that I had taken action and I was on my way.

Today I found myself at Swedish Hospital again. I had a pre-op appointment with my plastic surgeon, the one who will even me out and give me back some of what was taken from me. I told her that today was my 1 year anniversary from my lumpectomy and that it was strange to be back at the very same hospital. She is a breast cancer survivor as well. She said that many people tell her that the day of their surgery was the worst day of their lives and she tells them they are wrong, it was actually one of the best days of their lives. She's right. May 28th 2008 was the day my life was saved. May 28th 2009 is the 365th day that I am thankful for it.

Lazy Days

When it is sunny in Seattle, there is nothing better. The sun has been shining for the last several days and we have been enjoying the long weekend. We have worked in the yard, barbecued wth friends, done a little shopping (gotta hit the holiday sales) and broken out the summer clothes. It has been a very carefree weekend.

Last year at this time, I had just taken my sister into emergency with kidney stones (she was 9 months pregnant with twins) and we were all worried about her health and the babies' health. I was also anxiously awaiting my lumpectomy. I remember not being able to enjoy the weekends at all leading up to my surgery because it felt like the only possible thing that could be happening on those days was that the cancer in my breast was growing by leaps and bounds. I could literally hear a tick, tick, tick in my head. A time bomb-that's what I was carrying around.

Last memorial day weekend was a soccer tournament for my daughter. I remember only one thing about that weekend and that was that my best friend Shannon drove from Portland and met me at the soccer fields so her daughter could spend a couple of days with us. I remember not knowing how to talk to her (a problem we have NEVER had) because there was so much to say and we were in a very public place. I knew that whatever words I said to her or she said to me were going to cause me to break down and cry which I didn't want to do on a day that should belong to my kids. Sadly, I do not remember one single thing about the soccer games-not who won, not who lost, not even if it was a good tournament----nothing.

One year later I am preparing to walk in the Seattle 3 day event and training every day. I am looking forward to my twin nieces first birthday (they were born on May 27-both small and premature, but perfectly healthy), my sister is fully recovered and I am preparing for another surgery. This one will be for reconstruction, mostly just making myself symetrical again and doing a little polishing up. While I was looking forward to last year's surgery, it was for a completely different reason. I wanted that cancer out of my body as quickly as possible. This time I am looking forward to the surgery for purely cosmetic reasons.

I am not taking for granted for one minute that I have the luxury of enjoying these lazy May days. I thank God I am able to do so and hope to enjoy many, many, many more.

PodCast Now Available

The Podcast from the radio interview for the 3 Day walk is available now by following the link. It is quite a large file so will take some time to download. The interview itself was about a half an hour.

I feel so high-tech!

Turn on the Radio

When I registered to do the Seattle 3 Day Walk I had the option of being an ambassador for the event. I checked the box and never thought anything else of it. This week, I got an email asking me if I would like to do a radio interview promoting the 3 day event.

I have never done a radio interview or any other type of public media interview, but what the heck....I have been putting my whole life out in the blogosphere for people to follow, it can't be that much different, right?

There is a group of radio stations here in Seattle that does an hour of Public Relations type content every week and for this week they wanted to focus on the Seattle 3 Day event.

I did the interview with another survivor who is also walking in the 3 day. It was good to have both of us there because we both have a different perspective. She has a family history of breast cancer, I do not. She was 29 when she was diagnosed, I was 43. She does not have children, I do. She has done the walk before, I have not.

Gary Shipe was the nice man who interviewed us and helped us to feel comfortable. He taped a full half an hour and filled the discussion with not only questions about the 3 day, but questions about the Susan G. Komen organization and our own cancer exeriences.

In the end, we not only were able to promote the walk and encourage participation in it, we were also able to talk about Breast cancer and why people should care about this cause. All of us who are walkers will be taking donations to raise money through September.

The show will air on May 17th 2009 at the following times:

KKNW 1150am at 5:00am
KIXI 880am at 5:30am
KWJZ 98.9FM at 6:00am
KQMV 925.5fm at 6:30am

There will be a podcast available once it airs and I will connect a link at that time.

1 Year Cancerversary

One year ago, on May 7th 2008 I heard these words, "You have cancer". To be honest, I don't remember a single word of the conversation besides those three. I had waited all day to hear the results of my biopsy and the later it got, the more convinced I became that it was bad news. I was right. That day and the day after and for many, many days after that, I heard that word in my head probably one thousand times. Cancer, cancer, cancer, you have cancer. I still hear it in my head every day, but it has slowed down to maybe 100 times per day instead of 1000. I'm sure it will be something that I think about every day for the rest of my life.

I'm not entirely sure when I am allowed to say that I am 1 year out. Is it the day I was diagnosed? The day of my surgery? The last day of chemo? Of Radiation? Is it a year from the first time I had a post treatment mammogram and was given the all clear?

I don't know the proper etiquette for cancer celebrations, but I will just toss etiquette to the wind and say Yippee! I am 1 year out from being diagnosed with Breast Cancer! Yay me! It feels good to be able to celebrate that milestone. In fact, I think I will just continue celebrating milestones when they come along. I think I will celebrate my 1 year cancerversary again on my surgery date, my last day of chemo date and anything else that feels like it deserves a celebration.

There are many who don't have the opportunity to celebrate one year, or five years or 10 years. I am grateful that I get to celebrate and grateful that I can be hopeful about a bright, shiny future with many, many celebrations.

Bad Chi

"Qi(Chi) is believed to flow through pathways (meridians) in your body. These meridians and the energy flow are accessible through more than 350 acupuncture points. Illness results from an imbalance of the forces. By inserting needles into these points in various combinations, acupuncture practitioners believe that your energy flow will rebalance."

Well apparently my Chi is messed up. I went to an acupuncturist during chemo to help with the bone and joint pain that I was having. I had never even entertained the idea of doing acupuncture, but was in enough pain after my first chemo that I was willing to try just about anything. To my surprise, it worked! The bone pain for rounds 2,3 and 4 was significantly lower than the first round.

Having had a successful experience with that pain, I decided to try acupunture for the relief of night sweats and hot flashes which has been fairly well documented as having a high success rate. I went once in November but it was right before we went on vacation and I didn't go back because I was feeling pretty good. Since I am still having night sweats and hot flashes (don't you just love menopause??) I decided that I would try it again.

I went in today to the same highly recommended Chinese woman doctor to see if she could help me out with these problems. She remembered me, asked me several questions about chemo, radiation, my general health etc and then asked to look at my tongue. She looked at the underside of my tongue and declared my Chi is definitely out of balance.

She ushered me into a nice quiet, warm room with a comfortable massage type table. I laid on my stomach and she started to feel her way around my back. To my surprise, she found some very sore spots that I didn't even know I had! Blocked Chi apparently...

She told me that she was going to do "cupping" therapy on me to help release the toxins, alleviate inflammation in my body and rebalance my chi. After chemo and radiation, a daily dose of Tamoxifen, I imagine my body is chock full of toxins so I didn't argue.

I now have some very colorful purple circles on my back and neck and a couple on my legs as well. I don't know for sure that it is going to help with the night sweats and hot flashes, but I'm willing to give it a try. I will go back next week to see if my "Chi" has improved any. I am lucky that my oncologist is fully supportive of acupuncture as a compliment to the traditional medicine and treatment that I have participated in.

"We treat whole body" this acupuncturist tells me. Let's go for it, I say. My whole body has been under attack for just under a year. If the calvary comes in a diminutive Chinese package with needles and glass cups, then bring on the calvary.

Lucky 13

Today is my 13th wedding anniversary. Since I started writing this blog, I have never had trouble coming up with what to say to express my feelings, but somehow trying to find the right words to express how I feel about my marriage is proving difficult. Not because the feelings are difficult, but because the words seem rather trite. I could write about how we met, or the day we were married. I could write about the ups and downs that go with any marriage or the lessons we have learned over the last 13 years. I could write about how incredibly fabulous my husband has been through the entire cancer journey or how he loved me through baldness, scars, chemo, surgery and plenty of tears. I could certainly write about how much I love him.

But maybe the best way is this picture. I had to go back 3 years to find a picture of Larry and I. This particular picture was a picture of us at my birthday in 2006. Larry is rarely in our family pictures because he is always the one taking the pictures. He is always the one being proud of me or of the girls. He is the one being supportive. He is the one who takes hundreds of soccer pictures. He is the one who let me cry in his lap after every single chemo. He is the only one I spoke to of being afraid to die and leave my children. He is the one who does all the little things like making sure we have batteries in the house and oil in the car. He is the one who is proud to go to work every day because it allows him to support his family. He is the one who stands with all of us through everything.

He is the one.

Blink

As far as eyelashes go, we are pretty blessed in our family. I have long eyelashes as does my husband so both of my children have great, long, dark eyelashes. When I was going through chemo I lost my hair, but was able to keep my eyelashes and eyebrows throughout the entire process.

To my surprise and disappointment both my eyelashes and eyebrows took an abrupt leave of absence about 8 weeks after finishing my last round of chemo. Adding insult to injury, this happened right when we were leaving for Hawaii so just as I was starting to feel "normal", I looked like cancer girl-bald and lashless.

The good thing about losing eyelashes is that they start to grow back almost immediately. Since I have dark eyelashes, you could see them within a week which was great, but I missed my long eyelashes.

Unlike the hair on your head, eyelashes apparently go in cycles which is why we normally lose one or two each day and not the whole lot. Chemo resets this cycle meaning that they all fall out at the same time. My understanding is that it takes awhile to reset this cycle so that each lash is on a different cycle. Unfortunately what this means is that eyelashes continue to fall out long after chemo. Mine fell out the first time and then I had another round of serious thinning but not complete loss.

The other day was a beautiful sunny day in Seattle so I put my sunglasses on. As I was driving I noticed that every time I would blink, my eyelashes hit the lenses of the glasses. I promptly ripped my sunglasses off so I could take a good look at those eyelashes. 7 full months after my last chemo, my eyelashes are finally back to their original length. I think I will wear my sunglasses every day, just so I can realize that having your eyelashes brush against the lenses is a good problem to have.

Too Young

I just read about a 10 year old girl who has just been diagnosed with Breast Cancer. 10 years old!! I thought I was too young at 43. Having a 10 year old daughter myself as well as an 11 year old, I just cannot imagine how these parents are feeling. It is completely unfair. Enough is enough already! 10 is just too young, 20 is too young, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80 is too young. As I have said many times before, it is time for Breast Cancer to go away.

I will be praying for this little girl (Hannah is her name)and her family and hoping that all of the great research that has been done for breast cancer can help this family as well. They are in the LA area and I hope that they will find brilliant doctors who can help heal her physically and mentally.

10 years old is just too young!