The end

Today I had 2 cupcakes.  Well, not really.  Today I ate the icing off 2 cupcakes—big difference in my world.  I love icing.  More specifically, I love Apple Annie’s icing.  I could buy a cake and just eat the icing. Oh wait, I have done that and it was good!   Anyway, back to the why I ate the icing off the cupcakes.    

I saw Dr. Lynn today for my 6 month checkup.  Which meant last week I had my 6 month mammogram which also meant I saw Dr K 2 weeks ago for my 6 month check up with him.  Since Dr K was first, I’ll start with him.  The week before I was to see him, I got a call stating my appointment needed to be moved and I was going to see a PA.  I pulled rank and said no way, I was seeing Dr K and they could move my appointment, which she did and I got to see him.  As always, it was a good visit and this time I actually had him laughing from the gut.  I told him how I had had a biopsy the last time I saw Dr Lynn and how I kept yelling ouch when she stuck me even though it did not hurt.  He knows her so he loved it.  Anyway—he said I will see you in 6 months and you are doing great.   1 down, 2 to go.

The mammogram was last week and all I will say is I was squished good. And for the first time since July 2011, I had a normal mammogram.  Of course I started laughing as we all know how that normal one turned out.  Still, it was nice to see it in writing. Fast forward to this morning when I got to see Dr Lynn.   After we do our normal how are things and catching up, she says all is good and she will see me in 6 months.   It is not until I get to checkout that I realize she has not scheduled me for a 6 month mammogram.  I questioned the nurse and she said I was back to the once a year routine.  Just like that. 

So I decided I needed to celebrate and I decided icing would do the trick.  And as I sat there looking at my cupcakes before I attacked them, I realized for the first time since it all started in December 2011, I felt normal and most importantly of all, I felt safe. 

And on that note, I am ending this blog.  I hope and pray I will never need it again, but if I do, I do.  When I first started, it was to keep people in the loop.  It then became an outlet for me, something I needed more than I ever realized.   Sometimes I read it just to remember.  Other times I read it to remind myself I did it.  To this day, I still feel it was doable, but I am beginning to realize I really did go through hell and it really was more serious than I made it out to be. 

I am humbled beyond measure that so many people joined me on my journey via this blog.  Thank you for your prayers, your thoughts and your presence.  The support, both near and far, was amazing, and, at times, overwhelming.  I am so very, very blessed.

 

I wanted a perfect ending.  Now I’ve learned the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. 

Gilda Radner

 

Ties that Bind

Mark became my cousin when my Aunt Sue married his father, my new Uncle John in 1971 (We also got Jonathan and Laurel in the deal too. Stevie came later.  He was not part of the deal, but we were stuck with him anyway).  He was one year older than me and he drove me nuts. And in all fairness, I drove him nuts too.  We enjoyed annoying one another – it was who we were.  Don’t get me wrong, we got along fine—we just liked to pick!  And I never needed him more than I did when I was diagnosed. I needed to talk to him, to get his thoughts, and for him to tell me how to do it.  But I couldn’t.  He died of lymphoma Palm Sunday, April 13, 2003 at the age of 39. 

            While he was not physically here to talk to, he left me with enough to work with and I always knew he was there.  Back when he was sick, his wife Debi would updated everyone with a newsletter called Pure Joy—based on James 1: 2-4 which is  “Consider it pure joy my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”  It became one of my favorite verses and one I have always fallen back to. 

            There are so many memories – all the Christmas mornings spent up in Owego, skating on Brick Pond, that silly Sun Fish on the lake, going through those “tunnels” from Little Laurel Lake to Big Laurel Lake, sledding onto the lake—my back still hurts just thinking about that one—the camping trip out west and so on and so on. There were happy times, there were sad times, but we were family and we go through it.  One of my favorite memories is not a fun one- but it meant so much to me—even back then.  I was at the lake house with Laurel when Dad died.  Without telling us, someone came to pick us up and take us back to the Owego house, where Aunt Sue and Uncle John told us about Dad.  However, I knew before they told us—only because Mark had given me a hug when we walked into the house.  He was 13 and I was 12 and trust me, there had to be a reason for him to hug me.  But it calmed me.

              When Mark was diagnosed, I was not too worried. I was too caught up in my own little world to worry about it.  I just prayed and assumed God would let him live—after all, he was young and had 4 young children.  Then it got worse and the realization we would lose him became clear.  And through it all, he kept his faith and he smiled—a smile that lit everything up (and all of those who knew him are smiling right now—deny it Marti!).   I never fully understood until I got cancer—then I got it.  There were many days I had questions for him and needed his guidance—and honestly, all I had to do was think back as to how he handled it and I had my answers.  And it always went back to faith and humor—something I could relate to.  When I lost my hair—I had a vision of Mark and Dad side by side laughing that I definitely was not up to their bald standards.  At least I had the wigs—they had nothing! 

            As I said before, Mark died on Palm Sunday—so fitting – and all I could think of was he was in heaven for Holy Week and he would be celebrating the Last Supper too.   From that day forward, I have never, ever been able to take communion without thinking about Mark.  Sometimes I smile, sometimes I tear up, but I always, always think of him and again, I am always overcome with this calmness. 

            Mark would be proud of Debi and the kids.  He would have loved to see his nieces and nephews and he would have loved to have just been here.  One of the last times I saw him, he was reading a Vince Flynn book—when he died, all I could think of was Mark will never know how the series ended.  Ironically, Vince Flynn died last year and never did finish that Mitch Rapp series. And I bet Mark asked him and now he knows and I have no clue.  Figures.

 Happy 50^th birthday and someday we shall pick at each other again.