Mine

"Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim." -Vicki Harrison

I have been working through grief lately. I thought I was dealing with the losses I have experienced over the past year as they happened. But, I am learning now that I have barely scratched the surface. I feel alone—even though I know I am not the only one struggling. I feel scared that I will always be this sad.

The world is full of devastating news. Heartbreak, loss and people mistreating each other. Yes, we have a choice. We can be positive, look for the good in things—and change our attitudes. We can remind ourselves that it could always be worse. But even in doing that...we have to grieve. I didn't allow myself to do that. I still don't know how, but I am trying.

The past year has been so full of loss. More than just divorce and cancer. I have felt sad many times but I did not grieve. I have kept myself busy, entertained and I have tried to find glimpses of happiness whenever I can. I was just trying my best to survive, but it did not include any grieving.

I have so many family members and friends supporting me. For that I am forever grateful. Even with an army of support behind me...I feel like only a few people truly understood the full extent of my trauma. Those people include some irreplaceable friends who have also faced cancer. I lost one of those friends to cancer last week. My friend "K" was the perfect example of a fighter. A shining light, a true inspiration. She let me send her crazy venting texts, she brought me dinner, she encouraged me to fight when I wanted to give up. I keep reading through our text feed, that's how I am grieving. I will always remember her bravery and grace. I will honor her by continuing my fight.

Unfortunately, I am learning there is no fast pass for grieving. You can certainly try, but you will be back at square one before you know it. I am allowing myself to go through the pit right now. Which according to a diagram my sweet friend "A" sent me—is the stage of loneliness. This falls right between guilt and isolation. It's not a fun place to be, but the good news is I have friends and family that pull me out of that pit of loneliness for sanity breaks.

My heart will heal in time with God's help. I will keep reminding myself of that until I believe it. One day at at time, even in making many mistakes along the way, healing will come. When I veer off course, He brings me back gently. It's a constant journey, but I am grateful.

"I'm holding on to all of the pieces of my heart's debris, 'till it's time. I'll pull it together and fix myself eventually, I know that it's mine." -Phoebe Ryan, Mine.

One day at a time, with God's help, I know that it's mine.

XO,

C

Eight is Enough

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places." -Ernest Hemingway

Monday was my 8th round of Herceptin. I am over it, but I am thankful that I have a targeted drug. Some aren't so fortunate. My friend C came to check on me that night and ask me how my infusion went. I was telling him that each time I go in, someone is there for their first round of chemo. You can't help but overhear the conversations. The nurses explaining the process, the time each infusion will take and the side effects. I am taken back to the very first day I walked in to that infusion room. My first nurse. The first time I had my port accessed and all of the safety precautions I had to learn.

Thankfully I haven't had any horrible side effects from the Herceptin. Until now, number 8. I have felt lousy for the last two days. But even though I'm down in the dumps, and have 9 more rounds to go, I don't have to endure any more chemo...many are not so fortunate. I hate cancer.

I haven't blogged in a while. I have been keeping myself busy, a defense mechanism to avoid going into what I call "the pit". I refuse to sit around and feel sorry for myself for too long, so planning adventures keeps me going. Over the last month I have had fabulous girls' weekends, made fun memories with my kids, danced to the Backstreet Boys with friends at a dive bar on a Tuesday and even crashed a wedding! The fun times keep me going, but I would be lying if I said there weren't bad times too. The pain is real and I am still on my journey to healing and stronger broken places.

When things slow down, I get lonely. It's in those times I grieve the losses that I have experienced over the past year. It's hard, it sucks—it hurts. Sometimes I cry so hard I can't catch my breath. I remind myself that I am doing the best that I can given my set of circumstances. I tell myself I will make it through this. To where? I have no clue. Not knowing when or what that will look like is really freaking frustrating. Especially when I just want things to be the way I hoped they would be NOW.

In a world filled with ways to obtain instant gratification, stopping to feel the pain is even harder. I feel like I am attached to a rubber band at times. Running away from the pain, only to be snapped back to reality. I know it's the grace of God pulling me back like that rubber band, reminding me that there is something greater out there for me if I just take the time to heal properly. He will make my broken places stronger...and I thank Him for never letting me go, even when I try to run.

I heard this song on the way to my appointment this morning. The tears came again. I HAVE to trust that He has better plans I haven't even dreamt of yet.

"Now everything I know is God you're in control, in every little detail you are close. I'll never be alone, here in the unknown...the power of your presence fills my soul." -Trust, Hillsong Young & Free

XO,

C

New Hair, Dr. McDreamy and Tales From a Walgreens

Demi Moore, Natalie Portman, Charlize Theron, Anne Hathaway. They've all rocked a buzz cut beautifully…and after spending a week in the hospital without my wig, I decided I could too.

For those who don't know, one of my implants became infected after my first reconstruction surgery. What a buzzkill to make it so close to the end of this mess and have such a scary setback. I spent a week hooked up to IV antibiotics, ending with a second reconstruction surgery. As bad as it was, I have learned throughout this journey to look for little things along the way to be grateful for. I didn't have to look that hard this time. Upon arrival, I was greeted in my hospital room by my surgeon's resident, who I immediately began to refer to as Dr. McDreamy. Thank goodness I took an anxiety pill to endure the ride over in my mother's minivan, otherwise I don't know how I would have kept my composure.

Fast forward to the end of the week. I obviously enjoyed getting to know McDreamy during my stay as my first words post-surgery let the cat out of the bag in front of the ENTIRE surgical team. My nurse couldn't stop laughing as she told me the story. Apparently as soon as my eyes popped open I asked, "Where's Dr. McDreamy? Where's my hot pants Dr.?" She said he walked over to me and smiled...and I just stared up at him with a huge grin on my face. I don't remember a thing, but the rest is history. I gained another new friend AND member of the Fight Club. He'll be so excited when I tell him he made the blog <3. It's these little unexpected treats that keep me going.

It's been almost three weeks since I left the hospital and so far so good. I learned how to give myself IV antibiotics at home for two weeks and now I am on oral antibiotics for a few more weeks. It looks like I won't need another surgery until the final surgery to remove my port in November. I am so grateful.

When I think back to my post The Hair Scare I realize just how far I have come. Although excruciatingly painful, I can see that I was growing way before my hair started to. When I finally made the decision to go out in public for the first time sans wig, I was so afraid that people would see me and think that I was sick. God must have known I needed the extra confidence because He sent me to Walgreens—where all of the best compliments of my cancer journey have happened. Smack dab in the cosmetics section, a tall man came up to me and asked if I was a model. I smiled and said no. He then proceeded to say, "Well guuurrrrl you should be. You've got the look! The hair, the height, the face..the whole dadgum package!"

The only thing I really heard him say was hair...he said I had hair! As if I planned for it to look this way. I held my head high as I walked out of the store that day. With a package of marshmallow Peeps and a new nail color to match.

XO,

C

Reconstruct

Current stage in my physical reconstruction.

My hair is making a comeback and so am I.

Reconstruct

• : to build (something damaged or destroyed) again

For the past week I have been recovering from my breast reconstruction surgery. I thought I would be back at it in just a few days—but unfortunately, I caught the flu mid-recovery. This meant even more time spent in my house, chained to my recliner. I've had plenty of time to feel thankful, sad, angry, lonely and...to cry. The reconstruction recovery reminded me that I never blogged about my mastectomy. Here I am at the rebuilding, and I never shared what it felt like when my breasts were destroyed.

As I think back to my bilateral mastectomy on October 16, 2015, I didn't mourn the loss of my breasts. I was just focused on getting the cancer out. I knew because of a new procedure and my amazing surgeons at Moffitt, my mastectomy wouldn't look like the scary mastectomy photos I had seen online. I suppose that lessened the blow. I would never see or feel them again—but I didn't grieve the loss at that time. I was also distracted by all of the other things I was grieving simultaniously.

A week ago, I stood in front of the mirror for what seemed like hours staring at my new breasts. Breast that will probably be in the same position when I am 80 if I make it there, lol. They look beautiful, but they aren't mine. For the first time I cried over the loss of my real breasts...5 months later. They weren't just my breasts, they fed my 4 children as I nursed them. They were a part of me. I was finally really grieving the loss.

It's hard to understand this loss unless you have experienced it. Sure, everyone will agree it that is hard and say they can't imagine. Some will also tell you that since chemo is over and you have been "built again" it's over! New breasts, yay how exciting! It's not over. Cancer will never be over for me. Not only did my breasts have to be rebuilt, but I am being reconstructed in other ways too. I never doubted that I would beat this, but I never imagined how hard it would be either. Every step. Not just the surgeries, chemo and loosing my hair. There is an isolation that I can not explain, even with hundreds of people who have my back and would jump the moment I call. I do appreciate all of the the people in my life. The family and friends who have taken care of me, the friends that have prayed for me from afar and the friends who treat me like Cathy and not the sick girl with cancer.

We all have a chance to be rebuilt or to rebuild something that has been damaged or destroyed. This journey has given me time to take a close look at the things that need to be rebuilt in my life. My confidence, my self-worth, my independence. Those were never wavering a year ago. But just as I have had to mourn the loss of my breasts, I have had to mourn the loss of my old life. There are good days and bad. But with every step what has been destroyed—is being rebuilt.

XO,

C

Embracing Reality

My dear friend and client at the time, C treated us to a day at Disney and even an overnight at Animal Kingdom. He just told me to pay it forward one day. C-This post is dedicated to you and your wife J, I hope you like how I am paying it forward with Boxed by an Angel.

Love you guys, thank. you for what you did for me and my children. I will NEVER forget it! 

"At some point you just have to let go of what you thought should happen and live in what is happening."  -Unknown

I read this recently and it was very sobering. I get stuck in the "what should have happened" a lot. It is so hard to pull myself out. I blame myself for decisions I have made, for not seeing signs I should have seen and for fighting a battle for years that I could never win. I never stopped long enough to consider that I could, in fact, live in what is happening instead of constantly trying to change it. I am there now. Learning to live life one day at a time, enjoying every fun and fantastic moment that comes my way. It's not always grand, but many times it's pretty darn fun.

In other news, I can almost see a glimpse of my pre-cancer self...health wise that is. My kids are calling me baby bird head, as I have little feathers of hair that are just starting to grow back. It's exciting but I am impatient. Is it too soon for extensions? Ha! Emotionally, I don't know that the pre-cancer Cathy will ever return. I have changed because I've had to. My ideals are completely different than they were a year ago. I have learned what is important and what is worth fighting for.

I have been weak, but I am stronger now because of that. I hurt, but I am healing. 

My recent echocardiogram showed not ONE change from the echocardiogram before I started Herceptin in November. That news last week made me feel super strong, and very thankful that God is protecting me through this horrific season in my life. There were days that I cried and screamed at Him for "taking my life" from me. But what I couldn't see then was that He wants to give me a new life. I think starting over for anyone is scary, but what I know now is that I can't let that fear take away my joy. I said when all of this started that I wanted to be a badass one day, well I am one now! I have been through the pit of hell—and I am still standing. I am still going,  all the way to November with Herceptin IVs every three weeks and lots of different hair styles.

As for love, it  looked a little different this Valentine's Day. I had full intention of boycotting it completely, but then I had a better idea. I decided to embrace the love that I am so fortunate to have surround me every day—my kids. My cup runneth over, again.

XO,

C

On Windows, Being Single and People Movers

This post is not a brain dump, but more of a heart spill. Sometimes I share things and later feel like I have been too transparent. There are some things I should probably keep to myself...I have shared so much of my journey publicly. But then I think back to posts that I have published and the people who have reached out to me to tell me that they related to what I wrote. They were helped in some way by the words that I typed. So I'm just going to write and we will see what happens.

No hair, no makeup, no filter.

Windows

This past Thursday was my last chemo. I haven't left my bedroom in 5 days. This round has hit the very hardest. When I am sick like this, I feel the lowest. Constant nausea, bone pain, headaches and stomach cramping. I have no choice but to be still, think, cry and reflect. Since I don't have the strength to leave my room, I sat by my window this morning. A month before I was diagnosed with HER2 positive breast cancer I bought a wind chime. I just stared out the window and watched it. I listened to it as it blew in the wind, and it made me smile. No matter how yucky I feel on the inside right now—looking out that window made me look forward to feeling better. I can't wait to spend time out on my back patio again. Reading, listening to that wind chime, grilling dinner and watching my kids swim and play in the backyard.

Windows give us hope. They let us see out, when we can't see a way.

Being Single

I loathe being single. It sucks. THERE, I said it. I am attributing my loathing to the fact that I have been in committed relationships since I was 19 years old. I have never been single for very long as an adult. Ever. Like many women, when I was a little girl I daydreamed about the husband I would do life with. Someone to raise children with, go to church with, watch TV and go on dates with. You know...the quintessential relationship with a spouse that adored me and a family of my own. I may have had the relationships, but the quintessential part—not so much.

I'm not without fault in those relationships, but being single right now wasn't my choice. It is hard enough to go from married to single with no warning, but going through cancer without a spouse's shoulder to cry on has been a very lonely place for me. Even with so many surrounding and supporting me. What this season has taught me is that I can't depend on someone to do life with for my happiness. Unfortunately, my journey to health isn't just fighting breast cancer, it's fighting my old way of doing things as well. I have to learn to accept a different kind of love in the form of support from friends and family—and allow God to fill the loneliness. I have to learn to like being single before I can even think about another relationship.

I don't like it...but I'll do it because I have to.

People Movers

Recently, one of my girlfriends was describing a person who came into my life at the start of my cancer journey as a "people mover". When I asked for a definition, she explained to me that people movers help you move on. They can help you move away from a bad situation, or move forward toward something better. The problem with people movers is that in most cases they are only in our lives temporarily. I have never been equipped to handle temporary relationships. I connect quickly and get hurt when someone decides to move on. This definition made me realize I have had many friendships with people movers, but I have never really learned from them. I may see warning signs and try to pump the brakes, but I have a hard time accepting reality and protecting myself from the hurt that's sure to come.

My most recent people mover helped me move away from a bad situation AND I am headed toward something better in the future. A two for one, and for that I am grateful. Although painful, the moving on forced me to a place where I had no choice but to do some heavy thinking, praying and self evaluation. I realized that I am way too sensitive at times, I believe entirely too much of what I hear when it may not be sincere, I settle for much less than what I deserve and I give too much which allows people to take advantage of me. A hard pill to swallow indeed. But I will have better boundaries and make better decisions now thanks to my most recent people mover.

Sometimes, people are only in our lives for a season. They may not be willing or able to give back what we would give to them. I am learning to be okay with that and move on! So a little advice from me, if you ever enter (and exit) a relationship with a people mover, I suggest that you take the good with you and leave the bad behind. I have so many fond memories of my friendships with people movers—and that is how I will choose to remember them.

Letting go isn't always a bad thing...sometimes it's the only way to move forward. 

XO,

C

Reconnaissant

Reconnaissant, grateful. 

It is really hard for me to be grateful in the midst of a storm. Facing the trials that I have this past year, with the addition of my breast cancer diagnosis has rocked me to my core. I have had some really fun diversions, but I won't sugar coat it...the lows are really low. The lows usually are the lowest when I'm sick from chemo. I know they are coming long before the side effects hit, but I can never fully prepare myself. I have been forced to push through multiple types of pain in 2015.

And excuse my english—but 2015 can suck it.

"We don't know how strong we are until being strong is the only choice we have." 

A dear friend sent these words on a card along with a gift recently. She probably has no idea that the words spoke louder than the gift.

I have read that an attitude of gratitude can pull you out of any funk. But it is so hard for me to be grateful when I am hurting. I should be in Paris right now, with my girlfriends celebrating our 40th birthdays. Instead, I have been in a dark hole for the past few days. Crying and wondering why I have to go through all of this, asking God why I have to feel this pain and begging Him to take it from me. I have been feeling sorry for myself, wondering when and if I will be at peace again and—feeling so much anxiety about my future. I know my God and my other resources are out there, but I couldn't even force myself to tap into them.

Until yesterday.

I remembered a list I started in 2012 after reading one thousand gifts. I went back and realized I only made it to number 362. I must have stopped counting some time in 2014. As I went back and read through my list I realized how happy I was. For little things like the smell of coffee brewing, talks in the car with my toddlers, Saturday morning pancakes and dance parties on balconies. I suppose I was so busy being happy, I forgot to keep counting. I never stopped to think about how hard it would be to count gifts when the going got so tough I could barely drag myself out of bed. Yesterday I started counting again, I made myself. The minute I started to think about all that I have to be grateful for right now, the better I felt. I am not miraculously healed, but at least I am not in the fetal position crying anymore. 

Maybe my life isn't what I thought it should be or what I wanted it to be as I turn 40 tomorrow. But as excruciating as it is, I have an opportunity to learn and grow from the pain. It isn't fun, but for some reason it must be necessary for me. Will I learn to let go and accept that there are some things I will never be able to change or control? Can I be strong enough to be content with the fact that my family doesn't look the same as it did last year? Can I accept love from friends and family that will carry me through the lonely times? These are the mountains I will climb in 2016, but there will always be something to be grateful for, so the list goes on—and so will I.

XO,

C

363. Chemo and a targeted drug that's killing my cancer

364. Amazing doctors that love me

365. Meals delivered to my home

366. Encouraging cards in the mail

367. Socks

368. New friends

369. Cathy's Fight Club

370. My Fight Club blanket (pictured above, thank you A!)

371. Crazy cancer trips

372. New York City

373. Bubby's mac and cheese

373. Surfing

374. Boat parades

375. Brothers

376. Sisters

377. Good insurance

378. My job

379. My work family

380. When a little bit of Paris comes to me when I can't go to it

381. Croissants

382. Macarons

383. A giant box of head scarfs from a friend

384. Loving on my friend's babies

385. Snapchat fun with Syd

‘Twas the Night Before Chemo

Chemo brain is a common term used by cancer survivors to describe thinking and memory problems that can occur after cancer treatment.Chemo brain can also be called chemo fog, chemotherapy-related cognitive impairment or cognitive dysfunction.

OH. MY. WORD. It's true and I have proof. Every morning when I walk into work I am greeted by two sweet employees in the finance department, who sit by the entrance door of my building. Yesterday I went down to let a delivery man in and I stopped to say hi to them. They asked me how I was doing and mentioned something that I didn't realize they knew. They then proceeded to to tell me that a few weeks ago, I told them my entire life story in detail—and I have NO recollection of the conversation. AT ALL! I was mortified, embarrassed and most of all SCARED. How could I not remember a thing? What else has been wiped from my memory? I did however, laugh...and they laughed right along with me. They must have made me feel pretty comfortable since I told them all about my struggles, cancer, surgery and more. N said, "Well you might not remember a thing—but we know you REALLY well now, lol!"

Round 3 and Christmas Eve chemo is tomorrow. I am not looking forward to it, but I am ready to get this over with. On the bright side, my friend L is going to take me. I am in awe of my friends. Friends that are willing to do things like sacrifice their Christmas Eve to sit in an infusion lab with me! My cup runneth over in the midst of this crap storm. Aside from the chemo brain, I am very blessed to have felt good for the past couple of weeks. I am praying that I power through this round too. I am loaded up on soup from my friends and Berna's amazing healing bone broth. If you are ever in Lakeland you MUST go meet her and eat at Cafe Zuppina. She's one of the sweetest ladies I know, and the food is like no other! Her bone broth is one of the only things I can stomach when the chemo side effects kick in. Tell her I sent you, there's so much goodness in this lovely little town.

On to fashion, yesterday I wore one of the pairs of Lululemon pants that they sent me to work. I may or may not have slept in them the night before. I threw on heels and a necklace to make it look a little less like pajamas. Ha! I have never been more comfortable at work.

I did however make a comeback today thanks to my friends at 5th and Hall. My eye was on this skirt as soon as I saw them post it on social media.  I am thrilled to have them adding to the fashion scene here in Lakeland.

Skirt: 5th and Hall (K&A, I miss your sweet store SO much, Shoes: Halogen, Top: Banana Republic, Necklace: Kate Spade

Tomorrow it's back to pajamas for chemo. Thank you all for your prayers and love. I want to wish you ALL a very Merry Christmas!

XO,
C

Crazy Cancer Adventures

"Life should not only be lived, it should be celebrated." -Osho

I covered a lot of ground this past weekend. I flew to Ft. Lauderdale and visited a ton of SOFLO friends and spent quality time with family too. I left with a full heart and some extra mojo to finish out the next two rounds of chemo. My sweet friend D picked me up from the airport, and I met her baby girl M for the very first time. Brunch at La Bonne Crepe on Las Olas was incredible! D is one of those friends that I can just pick up where I left off, no matter how much time has passed. I am so blessed to have her in my life and little miss M is just delicious. A trip highlight for sure.

Next stop, my cousin Milo's where we potted orchids and fed goats. Random...but fun-just like Milo.

I was then on to my friend K's house. She took me to the Riverside Hotel for the very first time for a cocktail before the Winter Fest Boat Parade. I had a blast hanging with Channel 7 and the news crew and then it was off to our friends' condo to watch the fun.

Some of the amazing boats! It was incredible to watch…and I had the best view, Thank you B& K!

This was 2015! Little E is in COLLEGE NOW!

Sunday was Milo and E day. So fun. We had an amazing brunch at Green Bar & Kitchen, followed by a trip to Marando Farms and then off to surf for the afternoon. 

Then this happened. A little choppy but we rode a few in. I'm two sessions away from being a professional. I've definitely got the look down. ;)

Sweet K, is Elena’s mom and has always loved me like family…and still does!

The grand finale was picking up E's sweet mom K from the airport. Sipping tea on her couch and catching up on our crazy lives that never slow down. I am so surrounded by love it overwhelms me.

To wrap up this busy post, here's a song that pretty much sums it up! Yes, this is living. <3

Adele, Relaxing and Reality

I'm obsessed. Adele's new album. It was on repeat in my bathroom tonight.

This picture, is reality. I was home alone tonight so a relaxing bath was in order. This was probably one of the most emotional baths of my life and I have taken thousands. I have talked about loosing my hair before (damn you breast cancer) and everyone has been so supportive. I hear echoing encouragements of how I will be beautiful no matter what, hair doesn't matter, bald is beautiful, how I will rock a wig, etc. But the feeling that I had tonight wasn't about any insecurity of how I will look, or fear of loosing my hair. It was that this sh&t is getting REAL. The chemo is working. After only ONE round of poison that will kill every cell of cancer that may be left in my body, my hair is falling out when I run my fingers through it. It's crazy. I have never felt this feeling before. It's scary, emotional, real and NOT about hair.

After work on Monday I won't have to worry about clogging anymore drains. My sweet friend and hair stylist is going to save me from the madness. I have had friends go before me in this fight and they have told me to wait until I am ready. Well after tonight...and thanks to Adele singing her heart out in the background, I am READY!

What's even more shocking and unbelievable to me is that I have a friend joining me. She has no agenda, other than she has had a fear of cancer for the longest time after loosing loved ones closest to her. She told me that I brought a calm to her storm–and I was the first person to bring her hope when she has only looked at cancer as a way to say goodbye. What an incredible woman and what an honor it is for me to call her friend. Her sacrifice is overwhelming to me, I don't know that I could do it and I don't know many that would.

This Thursday will be round two, and then I can say I am halfway there. I can do this, I will do this. It's emotional, it's hard and it's lonely even with hundreds of people surrounding me. But I am thankful for every day that I have. I am grateful for every painful moment of my story, for the craziness that I feel (and may have deflected on others, lol) and how it may help someone else in the days to come. The fight is on people, and it's real. Thank you for loving me.

XO,

C

So Thankful

Family and Friends in their Cathy’s Fight Club shirts! :)

Just a few highlights of our day. This year we were down a couple of family members which was sad, but we gained a few friends to make up for it. More mashed potatoes please!

Happy Thanksgiving,

C