Why Me? Because.......

If you are joining me for the first time, please take a few minutes to read my archived blog posts.

When people would ask me how I was dealing so optimistically with cancer, I never hesitated to answer. From the minute I was told my cancer had returned I truly felt that I was going to survive. I was completely resolute about that fact. I had a peace about me and although my faith had been challenged many times throughout my life, I knew that there was a reason I was dealing with this disease yet again. For those of us who believe in something more you will certainly find an understanding in what I say next. And for those of you who don't necessarily believe in more, you can still have faith. Faith is what we as individuals feel, not what we are taught. Think about your faith, whatever it may be, and you too will understand.

For me the reason that my cancer returned was clear: somewhere out there in this huge world there was another person who was supposed to have the cancer that was inside of me. Someone who doubted their faith, someone who possibly had no support, no hope to find. My "more" that I believe in knew my strength, knew that I had the support. My "more" believed that I am a survivor and that I could handle what this other person possibly could not. And so my "more" allowed me to carry the burden for someone who wouldn't have survived. I still believe this deep in my heart to this day. With that said, there was a darkness that tried it's very best to shatter my will. And it almost did.

Timing was everything. Had this blood infection, this nasty Aplastic Anemia been diagnosed any earlier my chemotherapy would have been halted and I possibly wouldn't have been given the unbelievable news that I was once again in complete clinical remission after seven months of aggressive chemo. Yes, I wrote that correctly - on November 2, 2010 I was officially back in remission - cancer free - able to breathe easy ....... not quite. We wanted so badly to celebrate such an awe inspiring event, yet we knew that what lied ahead of us could possibly take it all away.

After being diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia, everything in our lives changed once again. My doctors went into overdrive, trying to come to an agreement on the best possible way to proceed to save my life without surgery as I wasn't strong enough to endure being put under. The first step taken was a blood transfusion. This blood transfusion was done one week after my last chemo session. Imagine how relieved we were when my body started to respond to the transfusion. My energy was slowly coming back, I could walk more than 10 feet without resting. I still couldn't pick Emi up but she could finally sit on my lap again without pain shooting all over. I was going to be ok, at least that's what we thought.

Two weeks after the transfusion my oncologist decided to proceed with the radiation as my body seemed to be rebounding nicely. I was to have radiation five days a week for five weeks. I made it through three days when my body crashed. Every vital level in my system had tanked. We weren't just talking blood levels now but also sodium, potassium, etc. The radiation was immediately stopped and craziness started. I literally had no immune system left. I spent nearly every day, four hours a day at the hospital receiving an influx of fluids of every kind. It was like my body was being infused with a rainbow. I was given the option of being admitted to the hospital for seclusion or Darin could prepare our house as close to hospital grade as possible and I could be at home. There was no question in his mind, he wanted me in the hospital if that was the safest place for me. I had other ideas, of course. Being a strong-willed person has it's downfalls and I generally run with these downfalls. I refused to be admitted because in my mind there was no better place for me to get well, both emotionally and physically, than at home. So Darin double timed it and sterilized the house, purchased the materials the doctors said we needed no matter the cost and our home became my safe haven. Visitors weren't allowed for several weeks. Masks were worn, hands were washed a thousand plus times. When Darin and the kids came home each day they would strip down and immediately put their clothes in the washer and sanitize their hands and faces, all so they could stand five feet away from me. For nearly a month I couldn't look at any of the kids' school papers or hold any of their art projects for fear of germ transfer. I couldn't have kisses or hugs, I couldn't be touched at all. I cried myself to sleep more often than not just because I craved affection so badly.

About three weeks into all of this, after yet another transfusion, seven blood infusions and far too many white blood cell boosters to count, I rebelled in a big way. I was being told to stay in seclusion, yet I would go out during the day to the store, the post office - anywhere I possibly could just to get out. I had had enough and all I wanted was some freedom. I started slacking on the "five feet away" rule and began hugging and kissing my babies again. I refused to wipe down everything I was going to touch. I allowed people to come and visit, cold, coughs, running noses and all. I simply was done. And then of course I went down hard.

I had become selfish in a way that I never imagined I would. I put my weakness in front of my family in that I was refusing to treat myself in the way I needed to in order to become well again. I have always said that my children are my existence and here I was doing everything I could to buck the powers that be, even when I knew the final outcome wasn't going to be good for my family. I allowed myself to feel pity, to actually believe that I should be felt sorry for. I had become desperate for normalcy and I turned my back on everything that made me who I was, who I am. And when I had gotten more weak and far sicker, Darin did what he never thought he'd have to do - he had to encourage me to live.

It's time to break off for now. Telling my story has been incredibly healing for me, but even now, months later, it still has quite the bite. I'll pick it up again next week.

***Please remember my mission: The Hartford Breast Cancer Ride***

Fundraising Goal:  $1500.00

Donations Received:  $885.87

(Donations can be made online by following the link on this page or by mailing a check made payable to “Breast Cancer Ride”, Charity “CJ” Bartels, P.O. Box 425, Cambridge, MN 55008)

PLEASE remember: even if you can't donate, spread the word and make people aware - cancer is still killing adults and children at an alarming rate. We all CAN make a difference!

***Training Miles***

Week One:  85 miles – DONE!

Week Two:  90 miles – DONE!

Week Three:  95 miles -  DONE!
Week Four:  100 miles - DONE! 

Week Five:  105 miles | 45 biked as of 3/23/2011