Relay for Life

It was an honor to speak on behalf of survivors at the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life:)

Symbolism

I watched a program on Sports Center the other day that I can't get out of my head. Two high school age boys on the wrestling team were the subjects. One of the boys was run over by a train when his backpack became stuck, and as a result, he lost both of his legs. A child of poverty, he was relegated to walking on his hands because his family couldn’t afford medical help/prosthesis. When he reached high school, he met a friend who not only wrestled with him, but carried him on his back around school, to and from wrestling matches…etc. They were inseparable. Funny thing was, the boy who carried the disabled one, was legally blind, born with a degenerative eye disease. The program went on to show each boy cheering the other at wrestling matches, the legally blind boy always carrying the legless one. At graduation, a medical donation of prosthetic legs enabled the two boys to walk side by side across the stage for the first time. A touching story about one friend carrying another until he was able to walk on his own again. They now walk side by sideJ

I cried, although I didn’t really "get it" until about 3:00 am (during one of my sleepless nights). The legless boy was me. Because of unfortunate circumstances, he relied heavily on a friend to carry him through, even though his friend couldn’t always see clearly where they were headed. And when he was cured with prosthetic legs, his friend was still there walking beside him. Wow, what symbolism!!! This past year I, too, was carried by friends through my ordeal with breast cancer. They didn’t always know what to do or say, but they were there…always. And they are still here, walking beside me.

I guess it’s just one of those stories I wanted to share. True friendship is unmeasureable, and reminds us all that life, although complicated at times, is good…very goodJ

"No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever."
Francois Mocuriac

Reflections

November 6 was the day I first learned I had breast cancer, and now with school finally out in June, I can’t help but look back and reflect on the past months:  November (diagnosis and first MRI), December (lumpectomy), January/February (mammogram, second biopsy, second cancer diagnosis, second MRI), March (double mastectomy), and April (beginning of monthly injections and tamoxifen).  It was indeed, quite a ride, and one that I never thought I would have to take.  Cancer changed my life, yet only three months after my mastectomy, life has eerily returned to normal.  So normal, in fact, that it’s been hard to even keep up my blog.  Homework, practice schedules, games, promotions, and get-togethers have filled our days, returning life to what it once was.

I now find myself on the other side of the cancer equation.  Each day I learn of more people affected by this terrible disease, and my heart breaks.  It is a battle I wish no one had to fight, and I helplessly follow blogs waiting impatiently for updates to come.  I do so wish that a cure for cancer would be foundJ.

 

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life.  It goes on.  ~Robert Frost


 

May already!

Our family Mother's Day photo taken in the backyard:)  Life is good!!!

It's Not Over

I guess I was under the premature assumption that after my mastectomy, the hard part was over.  Physically, I suppose, that was correct.  And, as mentioned in an earlier post, I was concerned about how I would look after surgery.  No big deal there, either (after all, I’m aliveJ).  So when I went for my second anti-hormone injection on Monday, I also figured it was going to be easy stuff…and physically it was.  Emotionally, it was another story.  As they drew blood for testing, I began to wonder, “Will something come back abnormal?”  “I wonder what the test is going to show.” “Will they know if I have more cancer from my blood test?”  I think you get the idea.  After the test, I was taken to a room for vitals, and what do you know, I had a fever of 100.3.  Funny thing was, I felt fine.  Five minutes later when the doctor entered, I immediately asked, “Why do I have a fever?” (like he knew the answer).  He took my temperature again and it read 98.8.  My realization was, though, that cancer has come into my life to stay.  It didn’t end with surgery and medication.  I will always worry and wonder at each of my doctor appointments whether or not cancer has returned somewhere in my body.  Needless to say, it threw me into a tired, stressed, hormonal meltdown for the next day and a half.  Oh well, maybe it will get easier, maybe not…but I am alive and healthy today, and for that I am grateful.  As for my children, they may be learning the word “bipolar” very soon…ha ha ha!!!

"Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful."
      

Joshua J. Marine

Back to Work

I have survived my first week back at work.  I was a bit reluctant on Monday to return to working, but it only took a few “Mrs. Karst, I’m so glad you’re back” comments and an abundance of hugs from kids to remind me that Ben Lomond Elementary is also “home”. It’s amazing how you can be away for 5 weeks, yet after only a few minutes, feel as if you never left:).  Being around children heals the soul, and I am elated to be back surrounded by busy little bodies. 

"Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see."

John W. Whitehead

 

 

 

"The Race"

Over the past months, I have been asked countless questions (which I loveJ).  One of the questions that has been repeated over and over is related to my ending quotes.  “Where do you get all your quotes?” I am asked.  Well, I have always been somewhat of a quote-a-holic.  I have books of quotes, quotes posted in my classroom, a whiteboard in my kitchen where I write quotes,…etc.  I simply love when I find the perfect quote to convey my thoughts or a poignant message.  Most of the quotes on my blog are simply from the internet (quotegarden.com was used quite a bit).  A good quote is like an exclamation mark, and can hold so much power in it’s simplicity. I am glad that so many of you enjoyed reading them.

What I would love to share now, though, is a story.  I have read this story hundreds of times over the past 10 years or so.  I loved it the moment I read it, and have used it with my own children, as well as my school kids.  It’s a poem/story called “The Race” and I hope you find it as inspirational as I do.  It’s a simple story about a childhood race, but it packs a powerful message about life I believe we can all use.  It’s long, but worth the read.  Enjoy one of my favorites…

 

The Race

 

They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race.

Or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.

And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son.

And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one.

 

The whistle blew and off they went, young hearts and hopes afire.

To win and be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.

 

And one boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd

Was running near the lead and thought: “My dad will be so proud!”

 

But as he speeded down the field, across a shallow dip,

The little boy who thought to win, lost his step and slipped.

 

Trying hard to catch himself, his hands flew out to brace,

And mid the laughter of the crowd, he fell flat on his face.

 

So down he fell and with him hope, he couldn’t win it now.

Embarrassed, sad, he only wished to disappear somehow.

 

But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face.

Which to the boy so clearly said: “Get up and win the race!”

 

He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all.

And ran with all his mind and might, to make up for his fall.

 

So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,

His mind went faster than his legs; he slipped and fell again!

 

He wished then he had quit before, with only one disgrace.

“I’m hopeless as a runner now; I shouldn’t try to race.”

 

But in the laughing crowd he searched, and found his father’s face.

That steady look which said again; “Get up and win the race!”

 

So up he jumped to try again, ten yards behind the last.

“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to move real fast.”

 

Exerting everything he had, he gained eight or ten.

But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again!

 

Defeat! He lied there silently, a tear dropped from his eye.

“There’s no sense running anymore: three strikes: I’m out! Why try?”

 

The will to rise had disappeared; all hope had fled away.

So far behind, so error-prone: a loser all the way.

 

“I’ve lost, so what’s the use,” he thought, “I’ll live with my disgrace.”

But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.

 

“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “Get up and take your place.

You were not meant for failure here. Get up and win the race!”

 

“With borrowed will get up,” it said, “ You haven’t lost at all.

For winning is no more than this: to rise each time you fall.”

 

So up he rose to run once more, and with a new commit.

He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.

 

So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been.

Still he gave it all he had, and ran as though to win.

 

Three times he’d fallen, stumbling; three times he rose again:

Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.

 

They cheered the winning runner, as he crossed the line first place.

Head high, and proud, and happy; no falling, no disgrace.

 

But when the fallen youngster crossed the line last place,

The crowd gave him the greater cheer, for finishing the race.

 

And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud,

You would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.

 

And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do too well.”

“To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

 

**********

 

And when things seem so dark and hard, and difficult to face,

The memory of that little boy, helps me in my race.

 

For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.

And all you have to do to win, is rise each time you fall.

 

“Quit!  Give up, you’re beaten!”  they may shout in my face.

But a stronger voice within me says: “GET UP AND WIN THE RACE!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 Week Left

Jake surfing for the first time:)

It’s amazing how fast time flies.  It has been 5 weeks since my mastectomy and I find myself with only one week left until I go back to work.  To be honest, I’m feeling a bit sad about it.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the past 4 weeks, picking up my kids from school, going to Las Vegas, working the book fair, going to ball games, camping at the beach (even did a 6 mile bike ride, too)…etc.  With the exception of the first week after surgery, it’s almost been like a mini-vacationJ.  The first days following surgery were all about physical recovery, with the last 4 weeks being more about mental recovery.  I truly feel like a million bucks and am so thankful for the family and friends who have spent so much time with me.  They have kept life “normal” and I don’t believe I would be where I am today without them.  Life is good!!!

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things."

Robert Brault


Nipples:)

I saw my plastic surgeon today and she removed the final stitch from each side.  Strange as it seems, it was somewhat reassuring to know I was being “held together” by stitches.  Now, it’s up to my body to stay together on it’s ownJ  I may actually experience some interesting nightmares about my scars suddenly opening back up…I will make sure to blog about it when/if it happens!  The doctor told me to come back in 2 ½ months for a check up and to discuss nipple reconstruction.  Hummmm, I don’t know if I want nipples bad enough to undergo another procedure right now.  It really doesn’t bother me much and, hey, no one will ever know when I am cold—so being nippleless might have some perksJ.  Of course, another option is always nipple tattoos.  Well, I suppose I don’t really need to make a decision right now…just something to think about.

"The greatest power that a person 
possesses is the power to choose."


Martin Kohe 


The Infusion Room

I met with the oncologist and the decision was made to continue with the previous plan of hormone injections and tamoxifen. The injections are to shut down my ovaries and stop the production of estrogen, which cancer uses to grow. Basically, it will throw me into early menopause. Yikes, sounds like fun, egh? The injection was given in the chemotherapy infusion room, a place I had not visited yet. As I entered the room, I glanced around at the four other women receiving treatment. Two were reading books while waiting for the chemo drugs to slowly drip, one was drinking tea while chronically coughing, and the fourth woman was lying on a bed under a blanket. I was taken into a side room to receive my injection and was then free to go. I didn’t know any of these women, but I smiled at each one as I left, feeling an overwhelming sense of admiration for each one. These courageous women are fighting a similar battle, and I pray that each one has the strength, determination and “good fortune” to win. As for me, the two inch needle injection in my rear end isn’t worthy of any discussion and simply doesn’t compare to what others endure in their attempts to beat cancer.

“I complained that I had no shoes, until I met a man with no feet.”

Persian proverb

I Can Drive and Shower

Met with the surgeon, Dr. Hills, today and she showed me some stretching exercises to do.  And if I may say so, she was impressed that I was only a few inches away from my goal alreadyJ.  She gave me permission to drive short trips, but best of all, I can now take a shower!!!  No more 3 inch baths for me.  The recovery process continues to amaze me and I can’t help but wonder, “What in the world am I going to do with myself for the next 4 weeks?”  So for now, I will focus on my new exercises and stretching my arms those last few inches…a goal I am determined to conquer within the next few days!

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will."


 Mahatma Gandhi

Courage doesn't always roar.  Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."

MaryAnne Radmacher

 

Time

My, oh my how time does fly by, even when you can’t drive yourself anywhere.  The past few days have been very busy.  I was able to attend all my kids baseball/softball games and enjoyed getting out in the fresh air and chatting with friends.  I am still a bit stiff and sore, but nothing too bad at all.  I can honestly say that I thought my recovery would take longer.  It’s not that I feel completely normal right now, it’s just that I can do pretty much what I need to with little discomfort at all.  The body can sure be an amazing machine at times.  I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday morning and should learn some exercises that will help me get behind the wheel of my car soon!!!  So that’s that…nothing too exciting…just enjoying time off and recovering more and more each dayJ.

"I may not be there yet, but I'm closer than I was yesterday."

Author Unknown

 

"Linda's Gems"

I have a teamJ.  Just when I thought I had witnessed all possible forms of support and generosity, I checked my work email and learned otherwise.  One of my coworkers organized a team of people called “Linda’s Gems” to run/walk in the Susan Komen Race for the Cure on March 15.  They are participating in my honor and have raised almost $1,000.00.  That is so unbelievable to me (I might actually be rendered speechless once again).  The outpouring of support from so many during this difficult time makes me step back and shake my head.  It’s hard to describe what it’s like to stand in my shoes, see what I see, and feel what I feel.  It’s definitely not misery, sadness and depression.  I am in awe of people.  I am amazed at the extent that people will go to help and support those in need.  I have been changed by my diagnosis with cancer, of course.  But I believe I am more changed by the people who have rallied around my family, ready to help in any way they can.  I am one fortunate person, and I will never be the same.

 

"A true friend reaches for your hand and touches your heart."  

Author Unknown


Susan Komen Race for the Cure

Battle Scars

Getting ready to go watch Jake's baseball game...my first outing that didn't involve a doctor:)

I had an appointment with the surgeon today and got the final two drains removed.  The bigger part of today, though, had more to do with viewing myself through new eyes.  The past week has been one of recovery, with my chest pretty heavily bandaged and covered.  I got a little peek the day I left the hospital when the doctors changed all the dressings, but until today, I had no real opportunities to look at my breasts.  I was a little nervous about the emotions that might accompany looking at myself for the first time. 

So, I stood in front of the mirror and slowly unbuttoned my shirt.  I stared for a bit, and then smiledJ.  Sure there are two large scars, sure there is swelling and bruising, sure I look different than before…but then again, I am different now.  I may look a bit battered, but hey, I’m winning!  I’m winning the biggest battle of my life.  Those two scars are simply “battle wounds”… reminders of a difficult fight with cancer, where I am winning the opportunity to live, to see my children graduate, marry and have families of their own.  How can I possibly be sad? 

So the day I may have been dreading the most, brought a sense of exhilaration instead.  I realize that my recovery emotions may change at times, but at least for today I can say, “I love the new me!”

“There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature.  A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed—done with.”

Harry Crews

A Bit Restless

I think I got my first taste of restlessness today.  I missed my first opening day ceremonies for both baseball and softball. Instead of watching my children play, I was sitting in the same spot on the couch watching movies, waiting for text updates.  It crossed my mind to make just a short appearance at the games, but common sense kicked in.  The day at home—so quiet as I realized many of you were running from field to field, game to game.  Made me somewhat envious, to be honest.  I know there are many more games this season, but I do so like to be where the action isJ.  Next weekend, though, is another story and I am determined to cheer on my three kiddos from the stands. 

My spectacular milestone for the day:  washing my own hair and taking no Tylenol.  Yeah, my kids weren’t very impressed either…

"Some days there won't be a song in your heart.  Sing anyway."

Emory Austin

Small Steps

I woke today and actually felt pretty good….even took a 2 inch bath and got dressed all by myself!  Had to take a 40 minute nap when I was done, but oh well, it’s still progress.  I have learned to appreciate all the small steps leading to recovery, and will continue to brag to my family and friends about my huge accomplishments!  And since I am in bragging mode, I will share that I also made myself a cup of coffee today.  Oh, I can tell you are not impressed, but that involved reaching for a cup and opening the refrigerator…now we’re talking!  I met with the doctor today and she removed two of the four drains from my sides.  I imagined it being quite painful, but it really wasn’t so bad.  So, I look to tomorrow, excited about what milestone may be achieved and frankly, just happy to be alive!!!

"Oh, my friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts - it's what you do with what you have left."  

Hubert Humphrey