for courage ~ for hope ~ for a cure

The weekend for the Breast Cancer Ride has come and gone. What a bittersweet feeling! I committed myself to my mission and even though there were plenty of bumps along the training road, I never lost sight of what my end goal was and that goal alone gave me the determination to push myself further than I imagined. That goal was reached, smashed actually when I raised nearly $500 OVER my $1500 goal, much needed funds for two vital breast cancer support organizations. And now I find myself going through what I'm certain veteran participants have felt in years passed - the let down. Maybe if this was a return ride for me it wouldn't feel the same, but I can only imagine, as a survivor, the emotion will be there each and every year I participate. It's the calm after the storm that I am having difficulty with, trying to find my next soul searching journey. My let down isn't merely physical, but emotional just the same, if not more. I clearly remember in the beginning, when I first started this journey, that I said it was going to be one of the most physically and emotionally demanding journeys I have ever been on. It was exactly that. Don't get me wrong; when I talk of a let down it most definitely isn't that I was let down by any portion of the event itself. It's the idea that something I pushed so hard for over and over again for months is now done. It's the fact that this one event was responsible for pulling me out of my depression darkness, for giving me something to work for, something to live for. It's scary, I'm scared. But after all of this is said and done, I know I have the strength and the worth to carry on. This ride and the support of every single one of you who have taken the time to read my story has given me the hope that good things are to come.

The back of my helmet.

I feel great pride in knowing I have accomplished what I set out to do, yet I feel a heaviness in my heart to know that this venture in my life is over. I learned more about myself in the last six months than I have in my 34 years on this planet. It's not until we allow ourselves to really let it all go that we can truly see and honestly feel what it is our lives have been, what they are and what they will become. I have cried more, laughed harder and found every single way possible to capture seconds of moments that I would have passed over before. I am happy again and really quite content.

SO very happy to have made it to the first pit stop on Day One.

Going out of this journey, my wish is for every one of you to experience an event like The Breast Cancer Ride. Whether it's cancer, ALS, MS, Lupus - awareness for diseases that kill our loved ones is so extremely vital. If every great leader that has ever existed in this world kept his mouth shut because he only had one person to talk to, we'd have no great leaders. We all start out small but when you have passion about something and when you have passion coupled with the pain of loss - having just one person listen to you means everything!

Signs of encouragement from Travis' bike.

I was in awe when we reached the starting line for the ride. Hundreds of cyclist of every shape and size , young and old, wearing the craziest of helmets and pink galore where lined up and ready to take on the two day, 100+ mile ride. I was surprised that I had no nerves, but looking back it shouldn't have surprised me at all. Being surrounded by hundreds of people who obviously care deeply about the effects breast cancer has, who are fighting the same fight I am - well no wonder I felt like I was at home. There were smiles and tears and hugs and high-fives. There were banners and signs and streamers and pom-poms. And when the starting line opened up there was a roar of clapping and whooping and I couldn't help but feel immense pride. Between a huge smile and tears I waved good-bye to our personal cheering section (Darin, Dawson, Emilie, my sister-in-law Chantel and her daughter's Dylan and Berkley) and Travis (my incredible brother-in-law/personal coach) and I started our trek from the Mall of America to Treasure Island Resort.

Start line at the Mall of America.

I must have been naive (by choice) in regards to the difficulty of the ride route because Holy Buckets did it kick my ever loving a**! I went into this ride feeling very prepared and in great shape, ok well not perfect shape but definitely better than I had been! After the second "mountain" climb I knew I was in for a very very very long day. I honestly don't know if I would've made it without Travis as it took him some major coaching to get me up those "mountains". Ok, so they were hills but they were HUGE! The pit stops every 10-15 miles were always needed and the cheers from supporters made it so much easier to get back on the bike after a short rest. Our cheering section was incredible - moving from pit stop to pit stop with their signs and pom-pom, screaming loud and clear as we came down the road. At many points they were jumping out of trees like we were the next best thing to Brad and Angelina! SO awesome and SO needed, especially after I took a spill coming out of the first pit stop! As captain of the Nanny Nanny Boo Boos I felt it only necessary to have an actual boo boo!

Our very own paparazzi.

Closer to the end of the ride my stomach began to do some complaining and at one point I thought we were going to have to pull off so I could use the ditch as a toilet but I rallied and kept going. All the while I kept thinking - I will not get sick, I will not get sick. And with each pit stop we reached we were that much closer to our overnight camp spot. It was a nice encouragement to count the miles down instead of up so after each mile I'd call out -  13 miles and then 12 miles and so forth and so on. Travis and I road into camp just short of six hours after we left the start line. I was SO happy and SO proud that I accomplished the 48.7 miles of day one. It was overwhelming to walk into bike parking and see hundreds of bikes hanging on the racks. The support for breast cancer awareness was loud and proud in that room.

Hundreds of bikes filled the event center as riders came in at the end of Day One.

After a much needed shower and a short rest, the whole "Nanny Nanny Boo Boos" team/family headed down to the event center to enjoy a wonderful supper and program. There was a piano man who took requests and dedications, there was Ride Feud, there was a fashion show of ride wear and also a massage and chiro station. I took advantage of the chiro station and got a huge laugh from the people waiting when the chiropractor got a huge rumble of pops out of my back and I let out a very loud, very dramatic "oooohhhhh"! Well, it felt good!

Shortly before the main program ended, Travis and Chantel took all of the kids to the hotel swimming pool as a treat for being so incredibly wonderful all day while Darin and I stayed to watch the fashion show. Shortly before the main program ended one of the speakers asked for all survivors to raise their hands. I was shocked to see there were very few survivors. This hit me so hard. My eyes filled with tears as I realized that the majority of people riding, crewing, volunteering had never actually felt cancer within their body and yet they were a part of this event, supporting and working incredibly hard for loved ones, co-workers and even strangers. I was silenced by the enormity of love in that room.

And then my night went from wonderful to terrible. While we were sitting there I could feel my stomach start to turn a bit. I figured it was due to the exertion of the ride but as time passed I began to feel fevered. Before I knew it the shakes had started and a major headache had come on. I knew what was happening but I refused to acknowledge it. I told Darin I needed to get to bed so I was ready for the 58.6 miles the next day and he just looked at me without saying a word even though I could tell he knew everything I was feeling. Realizing that I am not nearly as good at hiding my feelings from my husband as I thought I was is one of the many lesson I have learned during this journey.

I think I slept a total of three hours that night. Of course being in a strange bed after biking nearly 50 miles in crazy hotness (and in the mountains!!) isn't the most relaxing of situations so I knew I'd be short on sleep but I certainly thought I'd have more than I did. I woke several times to chills and at one point Darin moved on top of the covers because he said my body heat was burning him up. When the alarm went off I stood to find sharp pains shooting up my legs. My fever was still hanging on and my headache hadn't lessened one bit. Darin just looked at me and with a very calm voice he told me that it was ok if I couldn't do the rest of the ride. A part of me knew that I shouldn't continue. I knew I was sick and after being caught outside in the storm the Tuesday before the ride it wasn't surprising that the effects were finally catching up with me. The problem was that even though I knew I was physically sick, a part of me thought that maybe it was just nerves. Maybe my mind was just playing with me because I was physically exhausted from the day one ride and I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to do the additional miles and the HUGE hills (mountains!!!) that were talked about constantly during the first day's pit stops? Maybe I was subconsciously trying to give up? And so I moved on auto-pilot and put on my riding gear, all the while thinking to myself "you can't do it". But I just kept moving and before I knew it I was looking at Darin and I heard myself say, "I have to at least try." and he gave me a hug and said, "ok".

Heading out on Day Two

What we kept hearing on day one was how the first hill (mountain!!!) out on day two was killer and  all of the talk was dead on! Right around mile two we started to climb. At first I thought it was very doable but after each turn it just kept going up and up and up. I swear to God we were climbing that hill (mountain!!!) for close to 45 minutes! I don't think I had been so darn happy to see anything more that weekend then I was to see the top of that hill (mountain!!!)!

A crew member was kind enough to help me up the last few feet of hill (mountain!!!).

 After getting to the top (and only walking about 50 feet of the nearly 400 feet climb (Cat5 grade hill - mountain!!!) we stopped for about three minutes to take a drink and all I kept thinking is "just keep moving just keep moving". The rest of the ride was gorgeous, some more hills (actual hills) but nothing like the others we had rode until we reached the last leg of the ride. Before I tell you about the last 13 miles of the ride, I want to share with you an encounter I had at a pit stop on day two...........

 

We were refilling our water bottles at the second pit stop on day two, saying a quick hello to our family who were jumping from pit to pit, when a couple approached me. I had a sign on my helmet that said 2x survivor and this prompted them to talk to me. Very quietly and quite reserved the man asked me if he could ask me a personal question and I said "of course". He then put his arm around his wife and pulled her tight, looked me in my eyes and asked "How did you know it was back?". I looked at his wife and she looked down and back up slowly. I caught my breath and did my best to answer as candidly and honestly as I could. We talked for quite some time, tearing up at certain words, smiling and laughing at others. I realized in those moments how important it is for those of us who still have our voices to share our stories. To share the good, the bad and the hope for something more - the hope for a cure. At the end of our visit, she asked my name and she just beamed. She was CJ as well. She had opted to not have her breasts removed as well. She went through extended chemo as well. She was me and she was alive. I felt God's presence under that park shelter - amazing!

Two of the most precious people I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

Our ride continued and I felt like I was soaring. My leg muscles felt great and my energy level was as high as it could get. After stopping at the fourth pit stop for lunch, we started on the last leg of my six month journey. It seemed so unreal that I was at that point. After six months I had 13 miles left and it would be over. I think that God knew I was focusing too hard on the "end" so he gave me some MAJOR distractions and by distractions I mean hills (mountains!!!). Hill (mountain!!!) after hill (mountain!!!) after hill (MOUNTAIN!!!). Not only were we going up and down and up and down but it was through major city streets, interstate crossings, etc. Stop, start, stop, start. And then I called out "three miles" to Travis and I about darn near fell off my bike. I just looked at him and said "three miles" again. I could feel the tears starting to well up. We rounded a corner and I saw a group of crew members waving us on. One of the ladies shouted out "one more mile" and I lost it. The tears streamed down my face. I couldn't control it, it just over took me. As I saw the Ikea and Mall of America signs come into view, the impact of what I had just accomplished hit me hard. One year ago I couldn't get out of bed. One year ago I was told the chemo wasn't working as well as the doctors had hoped it would. One year ago I was told to make sure all of my affairs were in order. One year ago I had to have "that" talk with my husband, the talk about what I want for the kids' future, for his future should I not beat cancer the second time. And when I started to allow myself to believe I could possibly die, a power bigger than all of us pulled me up. One year ago I decided that I was no where near ready to leave this life and I started fighting and there was no way I was going to give up. And now this - this is what I did. This is because of my hard work and my dedication and my determination. I did it - I actually did it! 

Victory!!!! Our finale photo!

Travis and I pulled up to the stop-light across from the finish line seven hours and thirty minutes after we left Treasure Island Resort. There was clapping and cheering and banners waving and balloons flying and music playing and when I looked over to the tents I saw my family with their hands in the air - screaming above the crowd and waving so big. And as if I hadn't been crying hard enough the tears came even faster. I have no idea how I saw enough to even pull into the finish parking lot but I did. We were immediately greeted by crew members with nice cold towels and water. And before I knew it I was being hugged by Darin and Dawson and Emilie and Chantel and Travis. I just sobbed, a mixture of relief and pride pouring out of me. The idea that I was so close to not being present in this day was not lost on me. And just when I thought the finish line events couldn't get more emotional, a lady I had briefly met at a pre-ride event pulled through the finish line and called out to me. I stopped, she walked over and told me "I rode this ride for you, I rode it just for you.". I was speechless, could find absolutely no words. I just broke down, again, and hugged her tight. She explained that she had heard my story and she just needed me to know that she was there for me, that we are all in this fight together. I will never ever underestimate the good in people and will carry that woman's face in my heart for the rest of my life.

My favorite stranger; what a blessing!

After things settled down, the Nanny Nanny Boo Boos enjoyed a nice meal together before going our separate ways. About a mile out of Bloomington I felt my entire body let down and the pain came on like a brick wall had just fallen on top of me. I could barely keep my eyes open and yet my body hurt so badly I knew I couldn't even think about sleeping. As soon as we got home, I took some pain medication and crawled into bed. I woke up the next morning after sleeping for nearly thirteen hours. The pain was still there and I could tell my fever was back with a vengance so I made an appointment to see my doctor. After blood work and a few other tests I found out that my blood levels were bottomed out again and most likely had been for a few days. I had known this - felt it Saturday night in the hotel - but all the same it was no easier to hear it. I was set up for a booster to jump up my white blood cell count and cleared my schedule for the following 48 hours because I knew what was to come. After a lecture from my doctor about how incredibly thoughtless it was of me to continue the ride when I knew my body was down, I continued to be tortured by the booster and some IV antibiotics. The next two days were hell; we were back to the days when Darin had to carry me from the bed to the bathroom, I couldn't eat, I was in constant pain, our bedroom became our gathering spot - it was a place I had hoped I'd never have to be at again. It was happening though and we dealt with it the best we could. A week later I can say I am feeling nearly 100% again and am looking foward to getting the clear to get back on the roads. I have to be ready for next year's Breast Cancer Ride! 

I will forever remember every detail of August 6 & 7, 2011. I am a blessed woman. Forever grateful, forever humble.

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I'd like to close out my blog by saying many thank you's..............................................

First and foremost to my husband and children:  I can't even begin to express what your unconditional and crazy love and support has meant to me. I knew each and every day of the past six months I was not in this alone. I could feel you all with me during every mile. I could hear your whoops and go-get'ems and you can do it's each and every time my legs wanted to stop moving. I could feel the sadness in your hugs when I couldn't train because of my levels, when I was beating myself up even though I know I had no control. I could see the pride on your face when I went one more mile than the last time. I could see the fear in your eyes when I insisted on riding the 2nd day of the ride, even though I was sick. I could see the understanding on your face, knowing it was something I just had to do. I will forever carry you with me.

My precious family at a Day One pit stop.

For Dawson and Emilie - you are my sunshine, you are a light breeze that carries the smell of summers blooms over my face, you are the stars in the sky that I look to when I need guidance. You are my heart and my soul, forever.

Emi and Dawson helping me down a steep hill at a Day Two pit stop.

For Darin - you are my everything. My breath, my heart beat, my existence. You are my shelter and my open skies. You are my smile and my tears. I feel you in every single cell of my body. You are my forever and I love you, furiously.   

He just takes my breath away.....

To Travis, Chantel, Dylan and Berkley - I don't know how you could possibly understand the depth of my gratitude, OUR gratitude for what you did. Travis, having you beside me, behind me, in front of me during the ride - encouraging me and praising me, I just know I wouldn't have made it without you. It was so great to laugh with you and thank you for obliging me when I couldn't help but get emotional. You are an amazing person. Chantel, I just LOVE your willingness to jump into this with such passion. From the sign decorating to the roadside cheer stations - you made the ride much more memorable. Just when I thought I was going to give up I'd hear your whooping and see you and the "Nanny Nanny Boo Boos" cheering squad on the side of the road. Your energy was infectious and Lord how you made me laugh! And finally, Dylan and Berkley, you two are such troopers! Thank you so much for always cheering so hard for me and your dad. I know it was rough getting in and out of the car for two days straight, over and over again, but it sure meant so much to me, to all of us.

I LOVE this family - Chantel, Berkley, Dylan and Travis.

To my Amy - No one knows me the way that you do and I am beyond blessed to call you my best friend. You truly know what it means to be a friend, unconditionally. You are a beautiful person, Amy Virginia (sorry, couldn't help myself ;),  inside and out. I thank God daily that you are in my life and that our friendship has survived 28 years. The days that were the hardest I found myself always reaching out to you and you were the only one brave enough to tell me it might not be ok, but either way we were in it together. You have been a major piece of my foundation for more years than I can count. Thank you for being you. I love you!

To my mom and siblings - What can I say? I laid it all out there in this blog, good and bad. Thank you for understanding why it was so important for me to be real in this. I have such a deep love for each of you. It will never ever go away.

To Jane and Dean - From the first time I met you, you both have been so caring and so freely giving of yourselves. Thank you is so small compared to the words I wish were available to express how much gratitude we feel towards you and your friendship. The meals, the prayers, the silent awareness - you are very special people and we are so blessed to have you in our lives.

To The Breast Cancer Ride staff and volunteers - You are all AMAZING individuals who will have a special place in Heaven for your selfless giving and unrelenting work to spread awareness of breast cancer. I have said it before, I will say it again - this ride saved my life and has given me so much to be thankful for. I appreciate you all!

To all of the people that donated funds to this cause - YAY you!!! I knew I could count on you all to help me reach my fundraising goals and you didn't let me down! I truly meant it when I said that $10 does make a difference. Please, keep talking and researching and listening .......... you can change a person's life.

 

And finally to all of you who have read my posts, family, friends, strangers - I've been unpredictable as to post days, I've been long winded, short winded and everything in between. I've made stupid jokes and maybe even some funny ones. I've given you everything that I am, whether it hurt like hell or not, and I was received with such grace and respect that I can feel nothing but pure appreciation for each and every one of you. Through your feedback I found the strength and courage to write the next post with brutal honesty. I found myself, what I was before cancer, during cancer and most importantly I found who I am now - after cancer. I am CJ and I am a two time breast cancer survivor. I am CJ and I am a wife. I am CJ and I am a mother. I am CJ and I am a daughter, sister, niece, aunt, cousin, friend. I am CJ and I am a fighter. I am CJ and I am alive.

I won't let go of the love and support I have received from each and everyone of you. I won't let go of what this journey has taught me. I won't let go of one second of my life. I won't let go of any opportunity to give of myself to others. I won't let go of this fight - to end the heartache, the loss, the pain of cancer.

SUCCESS!!!!!

Team Nanny Nanny Boo-Boos completed the 2011 Hartford & Re/Max Results Breast Cancer Ride, a two day bicycle fundraising ride to benefit Susan G. Komen Minnesota Affiliate and Open Arms of Bloomington.

Me and my brother-in-law, Travis (love ya Trav!!)

I can't wait to share everything about the ride with you all and will do so yet this week. Darin was fabulous and took nearly 500 pictures! Not exactly the most flattering of attire, hence not the most flattering of pictures but hey - I don't care how much flub shows if it means I am healthy enough to ride my bicycle 115 miles!

And now I take it WAY easy for the next two days! After getting caught in the storm last Tuesday while training I developed a bit of a cold which brought on a fever shortly after we finished Day One of the ride. I was hoping I'd sweat it out during Day Two but darn the luck, it hung on. So, I'm off to the doc and then on to a 1 1/2 hour much deserved massage! ;)

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"Henceforth I whimper no more,

postpone no more, need nothing......

Strong and content I travel the open road."

~ Walt Whitman



Precious Moments

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

The Hartford & Re/Max Results Breast Cancer Ride is THIS weekend, 8/6 & 8/7. I am overly excited to say that my brother-in-law Travis has volunteered to ride with me. We have officially formed the team "Nanny Nanny Boo-Boos". Keep us and all of the riders and event crew in your prayers for safety as we complete this amazing journey. Thank you for your support - love to all!

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It's a long one but it's almost my last post so humor me!

How in the world can it be August already??? And far more importantly and shocking - How in the world can The Breast Cancer Ride be this weekend already??? Oy Vey!!! It seems like yesterday I was pondering whether or not I could find the strength, both physical and emotional, to take on this journey and now here we are, six months later! I can say I honestly don't know how ready I am physically (ok, well to my credit, MUCH more ready than I was in February!), but I do know that over the last six months I have found amazing emotional strength. In part this emotional strength has come from my own soul searching and healing, however the majority of my strength has been built through the amazing support, love and compassion I have received from so many family members, friends old and new and even strangers. I am a very blessed woman, yes I am!

So when I started this blog I was determined to post once a week, at a minimum. Now I see that a little over a month has gone by and I haven't put on so much as a hello. Although I have thought about sitting down, it just hasn't happened because for once in my life I am taking things day by day and finally allowing myself to relish each and every offered moment. Life has been happening the past several weeks and I've been doing my very best to enjoy every second of it. This is something that my husband taught me during my cancer fights - to just stop and take it all in. This isn't easily done for an overacheiving perfectionist with OCD but boy howdy does cancer and all the nastiness it brings with it have the ability to change a person forever! A piece of advise I'd like to give:  coming from someone who never stopped, who always felt there was something more important to be doing, to be accomplishing - JUST STOP! With or without cancer, we all need to just stop and take it all in and live our lives second by second. Don't wait until it's too late! Don't say "that will never happen to me" or "I'll have tomorrow to do that". JUST STOP! Am I perfect at this way of life - heck no, but I'm trying with everything I am to live my life in just that way.

It seems that each and every weekend has been filled with activity this summer. I know I over-committed our family with events but coming out of a year of hell to be blunt - a year of rarely seeing the sun and not being able to smell the first spring showers or summers first blooms or rarely seeing falls gorgeous foliage and missing winters ice-covered shimmering trees; coming out of a year of disconnect I felt very strongly that I wanted to not waste one minute of our time. The times we desparately needed to build happy memories and wash away the bad. And as blessed as I am, I have a husband and children that have been more than happy to go along with my wishes.

We've had several weekends at our cabin, just Darin, the kids and I. We've also had two weekends there with friends from Iowa and an extended 4th of July holiday there with Darin's family. I had forgotten how increbily relaxing it is there. I remember early on in my treatment, Darin would make the drive just to let me sit outside in the forest air even if it was only for a half hour. He knew how at peace I felt there and no amount of arguing with him would keep him from putting in that drive time. I look back on pictures taken there: kids at my side with my blotchy puffy face, hair wrap on, eyebrows thin, cracked lips - oh Lordy Lordy how terrible I looked!  It's amazing, even with blogging and the fundraising of the ride on my mind daily, I still have found a way to put those images out of my mind. That is until I see them as I browse through our photos. It's quite shocking to look back and to instantly feel inside how I felt then. The panic fills my chest and I find that I have to remind myself to breathe. I can talk about my battles until the days are gone but to see it makes it real again. The first time around I didn't allow pictures to be taken and feeling what I've felt in the last few days after seeing pictures of this past fight, well I guess I remember why I didn't want them the first go around. With that said, what hurts us can only make us stronger and even though the anxiety is there when I see myself that sick, I also see the love of my children as they hold my hand and put their arms around me. I can see the love in their eyes and also the ferce loyalty that they have for me. I'll take the anxiety for that.

Jumping back a little bit:  A few months after my one year remission anniversary (the first time around), Darin and I went to Sturgis. He's road motorcycles all of his life, me not so much. We enjoyed the fabulous company of a very dear friend of mine and her husband. Well, to be honest, Sturgis and the Black Hills was their honeymoon and we tagged along! Anyway, after that amazing week I decided I wanted my own motorcyle. This was nothing more than big girl talk until we moved to Minnesota and I saw woman after woman riding their own bikes. So in true Darin fashion, he bought me a small bike to start out on. This was the summer of 2009. I was instantly addicted and ready for a "real" motorcycle. We put hundreds of miles on just putting around our beautiful state. There was just nothing like being free. Wind in the hair, thoughts floating - just free. So when the spring of 2010 rolled around, I saw a Harley Davidson that I just LOVED! The idea of buying it came and went when I relapsed that same month. I remember calling Darin after everything had been confirmed and a co-worker brought him home immediately. I met him in the garage, hugged him tight and when he asked me what I needed from him I said "let's ride". We got on our bikes and just went. I didn't want to think, I didn't want to talk, I just wanted to float away and that is exactly what we did. He didn't ask any questions, he just said ok and away we went. I have no idea how far we went; I honestly have no idea even where we went. And when my bike turned us towards home, I guess that was my minds way of saying it was time to cope. But for those couple of minutes or hours or whatever it was - I was free from it all. Two months later Darin bought me that Harley Davidson Softail that I just loved and the poor thing sat in the garage with a little over 200 miles on it for nearly a year. When the snowed melted this spring, when I had gotten the green light to go out - oh boy did we go out! We've enjoyed putting on almost 1,000 miles this summer and hopefully a few more hundred to go! It's a family affair. Emi rides with Darin (she moves around too much for me!) and D rides with me. Absolutely positively wonderful!

In June my training kind of went belly up. The kids went to stay with their dad for a little over a week and as they are my existence, my life went a bit off kilter. I wouldn't call it a problem necessarily, but when you put your every effort into making sure your children and husband are happy, content and protected - well your life becomes more about them than about you. I know many women can identify with this, especially the empty nesters. Unfortunately when you have a divided family the empty nest comes and goes and comes and goes and is extremely hard to deal with. I have found since my second fight with cancer that I am even more effected by the kids being gone than I ever was. I had three solid months of dedication and focus with my training and my overall health and the day I woke up and D and Emi were not home, I just kind of said the heck with it. My normal was gone. I guess a little of me felt my worth was gone. Afterall, being a stay-at-home mom means my job is my children and husband. So for a week I slept until 9 or 10 a.m. Darin and I ate out more than I cooked. I trained maybe, maybe half as much as I had been. I pretty much shut down. And then they came home - oh thank God they came home! The problem was that even though they were home, I found I was having a hard time finding my motivation again. I had been feeling very tired and headaches were coming nearly every day. My body was hurting, joints aching and the like. I ignored it for a couple of weeks but when after the 4th of July holiday the icks were still nagging me I decided to go to the doctor. I had picked up an infection somewhere that my body was not liking at all. My levels were tanking and as I feared, the doctor wanted to do an infusion. By the grace of God, the infusion proved successful and I rebounded quite nicely. Nasty blood disease 0, CJ 1! HA!

In mid-July Darin and I were blessed with a night in Minneapolis with the Kolling family. Joe, Angela and their son Andrew and Darin and I had supper together and a great few hours after sipping drinks (ok, well maybe gulping drinks ;). The laughter was the most theraputic action I had felt in a while. As you might remember, the Kollings lost their eight year old daughter, Morgan, to cancer a few years back. We formed a fast friendship with them, one that will only continue to grow. What I thought would be an emotionally spent night was an evening of laughter and joy and pure love. The Kollings are truly my heros, undoubtedly my heros.

Many more activities have come and gone and each one has been well preserved with tons of pictures. This is something I have learned to embrace whole heartedly. I was never one to want my picture taken. I'm too fat, I'm too short, my hair doesn't look good today, I have the wrong shirt on. Not any more and people - if you are anything like I used to be just put your big girl panties on and take the darn picture! When I blew up nearly 30 pounds during treatment because of the side medication I was going to fight Darin tooth and nail about any pictures being taken. That is until he told me through tears that pictures may be all the kids have of me. After the initial shock of hearing him concede that I may die I realized he was right. Good hair day, bad hair day, no hair day - bring on the camera. God forbid I be too vain to give my children and husband a material piece of me should I pass on. Lesson learned.

One special moment that I feel the want to share was making the choice to attend my family reunion after eight years of being a no-show. I've had my reasons for not going and in my mind, even up until a few months ago, I felt those reasons were justified. Nonetheless, my heart tugged me in that direction the third weekend in July. As we walked up to the picnic shelter in that small town in Nebraska that I had avoided all of these years, I saw my aunts and uncles, I saw my great aunt and uncle, I saw my cousin and her family and I took a step back when I realized how much older everyone had gotten. And then I realized how much older I am. And as my aunt hugged me, I felt her body start to shake and she grabbed me closer and with an unsteady voice she told me how thankful she was that I was able to be with them this year. It was then that I knew why I had to be there.

Well I know there are several more precious moments of my summer to share, but if anyone is still reading this I'm sure you are about crossed eyed by now so I'll attempt to bring this post to a close! I'm going to sign off with a little story of mishap from my training..........

Tuesday morning I woke early to the sound of thunder. I haven't been riding very much so I knew this week leading up to the ride I needed to be on the road every day, even if for a short ride. So I drive the kids to school through a little mist but nothing too terrible. When I got home I checked weather.com and saw that the precipitation percentage was only 10% up until 10 a.m. I thought - no worries, I can easily get in 15-20 miles before then so I got ready and set out on my ride. I was out about 11ish miles when I looked west and noticed what appeared to be lightening in the far distance. To be safe I turned around and started riding towards town. I was about five miles from home when I turned onto a county road to head west. I was nearly stopped dead in my tracks by huge gusting winds that seemed to come out of nowhere. I shifted to my easiest gear and made it about 100 feet when I looked ahead and saw it - a wall of rain coming straight at me. And before I could think of what to do I was being pelted with grape size rain drops. Not being able to see two feet in front of me, I unclipped from my pedals and darted for the ditch. I found a grove of trees and bushes that I was able to burrow under and I held on for dear life as the wind blew the trees nearly horizontally over me, the rain pounded on my back, the thunder shoke my body and lightening flashed all around. At first I thought, "ok, this totally sucks but it'll be over in 10 minutes" but after twenty minutes I realized I may be in trouble. I dug my cell out of my back pouch and realized the weather had knocked the cell service out. So I calmed myself down and thought, "ok, this totally sucks but it'll be over in 20 minutes". Well, 20 minutes came and went and as I desparately tried calling out on my cell with no service I found my resolve fall apart and the tears started to spill out. I remember thinking, "Seriously God? I live through cancer twice and am living with a deadly blood disease and you are going to let me die in a ditch in a storm that wasn't even supposed to happen for another hour, in a place where no one will find my body for years!!!" Well, after exactly 42 minutes the rain lifted enough for me to crawl out into an opening where I finally got cell service. I called Darin, totally fell apart when he answered and proceeded in begging him to come and get me. At the same time I'm talking to him I turn and look to the right and about 100 feet ahead of me is a farm house with a huge garage and a nice huge awning. I found very little humor in that moment but in looking back I think it's very fitting that I say "yep, this is my life, bring it on"!

Please remember my mission and the reason I started this blog.

*** The Hartford & Re/Max Results Breast Cancer Ride***

Fundraising Goal: $1500.00

Donations Received: $1830.87

(Donations can be still 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!

His Tears

If you are visiting my blog for the first time and some of the context doesn't seem to flow, please take a few minutes to read my previous entries found by linking on the right. My stories are continuations from prior posts. I hope you enjoy and find some awareness in my words. 

They come so easy to him now - my husband's tears. He was never a big one to show painful emotions. Sure, he'd tell you what he felt if you ask, but tears were hard to come by with him. And now, well now he just looks at me and says, "I don't understand, it just feels so different". When he sees someone who is losing their hair he automatically thinks it is due to chemo and the tears well up. When he sees a man helping his frail wife out of a car he automatically thinks it is due to cancer and the tears well up. When we drive by a billboard advertising cancer statistics and a conversation begins, the tears well up. When we see a breast cancer symbol on the back of a vehicle and pass it to see a mom driving and kids in the back seat, the tears well up. A few weekends back we stopped by a garage sale and we quickly noticed that the woman hosting it was going through treatments. He could barely tell her thank you when we made our purchases because his voice wanted to give out and the tears welled up. He refused his change, grabbed my hand and squeezed it so tight as we walked back to the car, hesitating to let go when it was time for me to move around to the other side to get in.  In our first four years together I could count on one hand how many times he cried and yet in the last year and a half I'd need to enlist four other people's appendages to count. I see his pain so often now. I can see the fear in his eyes each time I head off to the doctor, even if it is for just a cough or cold. He has changed. 

I have been feeling the changes in him since the day we were told my cancer had returned. He is fearful of losing me, he is fearful of not being strong enough to take care of me, to protect me and overall he realizes that our time in this world is not to be taken for granted - he is fearful I might die. He can actually feel the loss of me even though I survived and he carries that with him always. We've made our way through this past year as every couple should, together and so much stronger and closer for having had endured what we have. And even though we as a couple have found a much deeper love after all that has happened, there are still struggles to face and hardships to overcome. With cancer, as misunderstood of a disease as it is, it seems the fight is never over. Cancer not only attacks a persons body, it attacks their entire life and the lives of those closest to them. And that is actually why I chose to write about him today. I am mad, I am confused and what better way to work through my feelings than to put it out there. Good, bad, pretty, ugly - this is real life with real emotions and real crap, to be blunt. So here goes....

As I've mentioned in a prior post, because of our location distance from most of our family and friends, what we had to endure was sheltered from the majority of them. He had no one to lean on, no one to hold him up when holding me up was killing him inside. He was strong and silent and vigilent in caring for me. He gave as much time as he could to other causes but I remained number one throughout the last year and a half and I think both of us assumed that everyone would understand and certainly that everyone would expect it to be just that way. We didn't question when the calls to see how things were progressing were few and far between. We didn't judge that there were very few visits, didn't expect sympathy and certainly wouldn't have accepted handouts. We simply existed in our world and did the very best we could. We didn't burden others with weekly updates when it appeared that they weren't wanted, we really tried our best to keep the pain contained to just us. And because there wasn't much envolvement from the outside during our fight, we never dreamed that questions would be raised and doubts would come to light as to his character and why he lived the past year and a half as he did. You see, recently I found out that some people on the outside are seeing the changes in him as a bad thing. I was told that they are putting the "blame" for his "difference" on choices he's made and actions he's done over the last year. And it's so sad, it's so unfair that when it comes right down to it - the choices and actions that they like to say have changed him have absolutely nothing to do with why he is different today than he was a year ago. Because there was so much of a detachment when I was so deathly sick, they have no idea of the turmoil our family was in. And because they don't realize the anguish he faced alone, they find themselves making up reasons why he has changed. If they would take the time to ask him, he would surely tell them - through tears - that he is most definitely a different person than he used to be. He would tell them that me nearly dying should've changed him. He would tell them that feeling absolutely worthless and helpless to save me should've changed him. And he would also tell them that only the loss of his dad years ago comes close to comparing to the heartache that he felt when he thought of living the rest of his life without me. And after he told them all of that, he'd tell them that he is so grateful that he has been changed in the way he has because he isn't afraid to feel anymore. His heart isn't allowing him to hold back anymore. And holy hannah can I feel his love!

And just because I'm SO fired up right now, I'd like to add........

I'm waving my hand high above my head because if any one thing or any one person has changed this man - IT'S ME, IT'S CANCER! Let's face it, had he not stuck by my side through two separate cancer battles he very well may still be the same man he was years ago. He wouldn't have nearly as many gray hairs and worry lines as he does now, that I am sure of. I guess I honestly don't know where he'd be or what choices he'd be making without me but what I do know is that I have never known any one person who is as selfless as him. He is fundamentally himself, both content and truly happy with who he is. His most precious of attributes, the reasons I feel head over heels for him have not changed - he is stead fast. He gives so freely of himself without expecting anything in return. He stands so firmly on his own principals - such an amazingly awe-moving character trait that I so desperately want for myself and our children, a trait that is not learned but truly just is. I am honored to love this man, before cancer, during cancer, after cancer for as long as we both shall live.

***Please remember my mission: The Hartford & Re/Max Results Breast Cancer Ride***

Fundraising Goal: $1500.00

Donations Received: $1005.87

(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 Update***

It feels absolutely amazing to be riding outside now. The miles are certainly more difficult than the inside miles were but the beauty of our country-side is well worth it. I am very fortunate to have so many lakes to ride by! The Breast Cancer Ride is fast approaching and my anxiety is growing a bit more each day but I'm SO pumped and ready for the event! I'm sure it will be one of the most emotional days of my life - Thank You God! 

I Believe - MY Way

If you are joining me for the first time, please take a minute to catch up through the archived blog posts.

To Deb:  Thank you for asking the hard questions. The things we don’t allow ourselves to explore completely are most always the things that go a long way in the healing process. Forever grateful!

*************************************************

After my last blog post I received a facebook message from a friend asking if I have faith in God. She was wondering what role the belief in God played in a cancer patients fight. She had recently lost her dad to cancer and she said that she didn't know where she would be without her faith. This question she asked me was a bit perplexing. After all, I have written about my faith in past blogs and I have used the Lord’s name here and there throughout my postings. I guess I thought it was obvious that I had faith - maybe not the mainstream, go to church, read the bible kind of faith, but MY faith nonetheless. But even knowing that, I found myself wondering, thinking about this question she had asked me. And so I did what every obsessive compulsive person does, I obsessed over the question for three weeks. I’m not sure that I am any more clear about my faith than I was before, but what I do believe is that my faith is for me and that is all I need to know. For those of you who care to learn more about the role my faith played in my fight against breast cancer, please feel free to keep reading.

I was raised Lutheran, ELCA, in a very small town in Nebraska. I was baptized when I was 3 years old, confirmed when I was 13 years old and that was about the end of my church days. I did attend the service on my high school graduation day as was expected of me by the church and my family, however if I was to be completely honest I felt it was nothing but a waste of an hour of one of the most monumental days of my life – the day that I could officially turn and run like hell from that little town and mostly everything that was in it, terrible memories and most definitely some terrible people. 

Looking back I don’t think it was that I didn’t believe in God, the Holy Bible and all that jazz; it was simply that I didn’t stop to think about it during that time in my life. When I was old enough to rebel against pretty much anything my mother wanted of me, I did just that and not going to church was just one of the many ways I more or less told her I didn't care. When I left home I seriously did not look back and by not looking back I didn’t have to acknowledge the lack of God’s presence in my life (or what I perceived as His lack of presence). All of those early childhood years that I sat in that church, listening to the same sermon, repeating the same words and singing the same songs over and over again, memorizing verses - it was all about going through the motions of what was expected in our small town. It never felt real, it never felt natural, it just was what it was. That little town still holds so much resentment in me, resentment I’m trying to let go of. I’ll be the first one to admit that some of my resistance to that town is based on some of my own bad choices and mistakes. But far too much of my resentment to that town is based on events that I couldn’t control.

It wasn’t until I found that I was pregnant with Dawson that I gave church any thought. The idea that we must raise our children in the church to give them a foundation of faith was something I had always been against, however it did come to mind when I was told I was going to be bringing a life into this world. After all, it seemed that was why I was ever expected to attend church when I was a child – so the powers that be could say I was a Christian and that I would be saved should I succumb to a premature death. If I fell in line with what I was taught growing up, I would want the same for my baby - baptism, Sunday school, youth group, confirmation and then surely any child of mine that went through all of this would be saved - right? But what about the people that had hurt me as a child? They were considered Christians in the eyes of the church yet it wasn't as if they lived in “Godly” ways. I’ve never been a huge follower of the scripture, but I tend to believe somewhere in there God intended for children to be protected; I’m sure God intended for the innocence of children to be held sacred. I'm sure God did not see a world were child molesters roamed free without so much as a hand slap. I'm certain God did not want for a child to carry the burden of shame and fear and pain. But I did and a disgustingly large number of children do and so yes, my doubts about my God sat very close to my heart and soul. 

From my early teens through my young adult years I definitely doubted Him, I mean REALLY doubted. I had done a fabulous job of talking the "I believe" talk when needed to save face, but other than 'my Amy' (what I call my dearest friend), no one knew my questions, my anger that I had in God. No one knew that I was so very close to saying there can’t possibly be a God. Because unlike so many that face hardships and hold their faith in God in front of all, I found that during my hardships and the pain that kept coming back over and over again, I held my doubt and anger in front of all. Even though I knew there was doubt, I never realized the source of that doubt until a "right place at the right time" happened when I heard a song nearly six years ago as I was driving to work. Now please keep reading…… this was a process for me and I’m sure this blog will be FAR too long but hey – it’s me and it's real and real can't be edited!

So anyway, I’m driving down the road and this song came on the radio. I had bumped the seek button and it landed here, the sound of the music was nice so I decided to listen, not having a clue what station I was on. So I’m listening to the words of this song so closely because the music is so beautiful and as each word processes through my mind, I began to shake and I felt myself get SO mad, so uncontrollably mad! Tears streamed down my face so fast and hard that I had to pull over because I couldn’t see the road. This song was Jaci Velasquez’s “I Will Rest In You” – take a minute…………………..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yW1gh15yxaY&feature=related

The message of this song was clear – as a child God protects, God keeps us safe and we have nothing to fear. And all I could think about as I listened to this song that day was “Where in the hell where you when I was being hurt when I was a child?” If the eyes of God were supposed to watch over me than why did it happen and why am I carrying it still to this day? And this was the day that my faith took a back seat and I didn’t look for it again for many years.

A few years later I started working for a real estate company. I was in the middle of a separation, facing being a single mother when one of the owners of the company took a minute to ask me how I was doing one day. I'm not sure how, but he had this ability to see right through me - something not many people can do. Before I knew it I was talking to this man about my doubts and more importantly my fear and anger with God. Very carefully, he offered for me to attend his family’s church. Absolutely no pressure, just an invitation to get a taste of what a church that believes in faith over religion is like. So I went to this non-denominational church in Norfolk, Nebraska – First Christian. The first service I attended I bawled through most of it. The service was about believing in what YOU believe regardless of what others instruct you to believe in. It was about finding your faith, not about being religious. There was incredible music with amazing lyrics that felt as if they were directed to me and with each song that the band sang I cried harder. I’m sure the people around me thought I was off my rocker but I didn’t care. I felt incredible when I left that church. Just to note, I can now say that the song that sent me diving far into disbelief years ago means something SO different to me now. I can listen to it and will still have tears, but the pain is gone and I can feel the love in it's meaning. 

Many years have passed now and I can’t say that I am a devoted church-goer and there have been plenty of times that I have felt my doubts sticking mighty close to my heart, but even so, I can say that I believe. Yes, I believe. I believe in my faith and my connection to God, which is different than many others but I'm okay with that and I'm certain He is too. Maybe one day we’ll find a church home, but until that time comes we will continue to believe and it’s as simple as that.

 Parting thought:  I went through a lot of pain in my adult years (my two battles with cancer included) before I figured out that God doesn't fix our problems, he gives us the tools we need to find our way but we have to do the work. My tools are understanding and acceptance and I am so very grateful for them.

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

Fundraising Goal:  $1500.00

Donations Received:  $985.87

(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 Update***

This week I will start my miles outside on my fabulous Trek road bike. I am thrilled and petrified! The winds seems to have made their appearance here in Minnesota just in time for my outside training but you know what - BRING IT ON!!!! 

The Best Is Yet To Come BUT....

I want to thank each and every one of you who have been following me through this blogging journey. I am anxious to get back into full posting mode and hope to do so within the next week.

I am taking a step back from my training per the doctors orders although I refuse to stop all together. My blood levels have taken a bit of a dive in the last week and I need to give my body some recovery time. We are not sure quite yet why, but we will get it figured out and fixed up in a jiffy! Over the last week I could definitely tell my energy wasn't quite where it should have been. A few too many headaches and the increasing fatigue were worrying me and my levels came back where I thought they would - low. This is nothing serious at this time so keep the positive vibes flowing as we sure are! No need for seclusion, no needle pokes - well, not many anyway, and no down-in-the-dumbs attitudes!!! I will find out tomorrow if I will need a booster or infusion but for tonight we are going to enjoy our favorite TV shows after we grill out and watch the kiddies ride their dirt bikes for a bit. It's a sunny day - God is smiling and so are we!

The best is yet to come - I promise! With all hope I will be back in full swing in less than two weeks.