Today I would like to remind everyone that if you have been putting off your annual mammogram, you should call your doctor and schedule one before the end of the year sneaks up on you.
We both know that it isn't that bad. It might be a pain in the butt to schedule and it isn't the most comfortable test but catching breast cancer early is something you will not regret! The 5-year survival rate for women diagnosed with breast cancer can be as high as 98% for localized disease if detected early.
Today I had my annual mammogram. I believe that it is mammogram number 10 for me. My punch card is full now. I wonder if the next one is free? LOL. They did offer me flowers though. This is also the first time that I have gone by myself. I didn't even stay up all night worrying about the outcome. That is a big step for me.
I am overcoming my fears and you should too! Just get it over with.
xoxo,
Alissa
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Big things are happening at Alissa's Hope!
Big things are taking shape at Alissa's Hope! On Tuesday night we were invited to Lindenwood to sit in on presentations from an emarketing class with new ideas of promoting events and promoting our message. The students had been working all semester on marketing campaigns just for our charity!
The results were magnificant and the information that was passed on to us was priceless. I can't even imagine the amount of money and man hours it would have taken us to do this research and preparing on our own time. I want to sincerely thank each and every one of the students and their lovely teacher for being so generous. We were blown away hearing each group of students quoting us on something that we said when we spoke in front of the class at the beginning of the school year. They really listened to what we wanted to accomplish with Alissa's Hope. They gave us more hope than we ever could have imagined!
Each of the 5 projects that were presented to us had grand ideas and I know that parts of each program that were suggested to us will be used in the future. The wheels are turning and new ideas are generating even since last night!
Big things are going to happen soon! We can't wait to be able to unvail our big campaign for 2013. Thank you to all of our generous supporters over the years. You will not be disappointed for what we have in store for the future!
The results were magnificant and the information that was passed on to us was priceless. I can't even imagine the amount of money and man hours it would have taken us to do this research and preparing on our own time. I want to sincerely thank each and every one of the students and their lovely teacher for being so generous. We were blown away hearing each group of students quoting us on something that we said when we spoke in front of the class at the beginning of the school year. They really listened to what we wanted to accomplish with Alissa's Hope. They gave us more hope than we ever could have imagined!
Each of the 5 projects that were presented to us had grand ideas and I know that parts of each program that were suggested to us will be used in the future. The wheels are turning and new ideas are generating even since last night!
Big things are going to happen soon! We can't wait to be able to unvail our big campaign for 2013. Thank you to all of our generous supporters over the years. You will not be disappointed for what we have in store for the future!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
My Cancerversary - May 15th
I have had 12 cancerversaries so far. It was on May 15th, 2000 that I received my diagnosis of Triple Negative Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. We celebrate this day every year like it is a birthday.
When my now husband was asked to join us in the celebration for the first time, he was very reluctant. "Why are you celebrating the day you found out you had cancer? It was a terrible day."
Sure it was a terrible day. No one ever wants to hear that they have cancer. But that day represents more than just that news. This day to me also means that they finally identified what was wrong with me. It had been months of problems and no one could pin point what this was. It also meant that the lumpectomy that I had days before removed at least part of my cancer. It was a terrible day but it was also the beginning of my survival.
Life changed on that day. For better or worse I was never the same person as I was on May 14th, 2000.
When my now husband was asked to join us in the celebration for the first time, he was very reluctant. "Why are you celebrating the day you found out you had cancer? It was a terrible day."
Sure it was a terrible day. No one ever wants to hear that they have cancer. But that day represents more than just that news. This day to me also means that they finally identified what was wrong with me. It had been months of problems and no one could pin point what this was. It also meant that the lumpectomy that I had days before removed at least part of my cancer. It was a terrible day but it was also the beginning of my survival.
Life changed on that day. For better or worse I was never the same person as I was on May 14th, 2000.
Monday, October 8, 2012
The Taste of Ensure
I lived an entire month on Vanilla Ensure. I can still taste it in my mouth when I think about it. I could not eat, I could not think about eating. The chemo had really taken it's toll on me. I was numb. I couldn't feel anything and I wouldn't let myself feel anything. I was starting to believe that this could be it. If I couldn't find the will to eat food, what did that mean for me? I started drinking a lot. I didn't care anymore. If I was going to die, it was going to be on my terms. Not from cancer and not from the effects of chemo. Eff that. I was going to live my life and I was going to live like there was no tomorrow. And oh Lord how I did. There were many things I wish I could take back from that time.
I would go out and I would drink myself stupid, which wasn't hard. I would drink until I forgot how bad things were and someone would have to carry me home. I remember being at my boyfriend's house and drinking an entire bottle of Jim Beam and smoking a whole pack of cigarettes. I ended up so sick on the floor of the bathroom of his apartment. Out of desperation since I might be suffering from alcohol poisoning, he called my mother to come get me. They both carried me up 3 flights of stairs while I wept about how "I would have never made it through college if I had gone to SMSU." I wish I could say that this was an isolated incident but it wasn't. This became normal to me for a long time.
I drank to forget. I would wake up the next day and be even more sad. I would go to school, go to work, and then it would start all over again. I didn't care who I took down with me either. This was my life for years. I don't think it was even possible to be a more miserable person than I was.
When I reflect on that time in my life it feels like it isn't even me. I feel sorry for that person. What a waste of a good life. I don't ever want to taste Ensure again.
I would go out and I would drink myself stupid, which wasn't hard. I would drink until I forgot how bad things were and someone would have to carry me home. I remember being at my boyfriend's house and drinking an entire bottle of Jim Beam and smoking a whole pack of cigarettes. I ended up so sick on the floor of the bathroom of his apartment. Out of desperation since I might be suffering from alcohol poisoning, he called my mother to come get me. They both carried me up 3 flights of stairs while I wept about how "I would have never made it through college if I had gone to SMSU." I wish I could say that this was an isolated incident but it wasn't. This became normal to me for a long time.
I drank to forget. I would wake up the next day and be even more sad. I would go to school, go to work, and then it would start all over again. I didn't care who I took down with me either. This was my life for years. I don't think it was even possible to be a more miserable person than I was.
When I reflect on that time in my life it feels like it isn't even me. I feel sorry for that person. What a waste of a good life. I don't ever want to taste Ensure again.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
PINKAPALOOZA
PINKAPALOOZA happened on a dare. For those of you that have never attended, PINKAPALOOZA is our annual trivia night. But it isn't the average trivia night with a dull powerpoint presentation and a house PA system. We pull out all the stops, often having live performances and video montages and light shows and confetti and dancers. It is out of control! We love doing it but it takes every bit of 3 to 4 months out of our lives.
After my friend Gwen had passed away we decided to do a fundraiser to make some extra money for the Race for the Cure. Since she had had such a big roll in the first years that it had been in St. Louis we were happy to keep up her enthusiasm for it. We had thrown a party at a bar and raised a few thousand dollars when a friend of ours challenged us to raise $10,000 for the next year for my 10th year in remission.
We gave it a shot with the PINKAPALOOZA trivia night and succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. That year we ended up giving Komen St. Louis nearly $20,000!
In the past 3 years of PINKAPALOOZA we have raised over $60,000 in the fight against cancer. Each year we have over 50 volunteers that take the time to make something of this size possible. I credit them and especially my husband for all of the success. I am just the reason that brings everyone together. That is humbling. And we have had a lot of fun doing it. Here are some of my favorite memories in the last few years.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsgLfJR8oS4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xm5UsngVMpE&feature=endscreen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmKboV9O37M
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StDnXBKEAD4
Scars
Everyone that knows me can tell you that I am a lover of music. I love all genres and hearing a song can bring me back to a certain event in my life or a feeling that may have been forgotten about for some time. I can create a soundtrack of my life. I can relate a lyric to a relevant life event. (I can do this also with Simpson episodes but we can save that for another topic)
So today it is all too fitting that when I heard the song "Name" by the Goo Goo Dolls that I relate it to today's post. Particularly the line "Scars are souvenirs you never lose, the past is never far."
I have many scars. Some show my ambition, like the gouge out of my shin from running along side of the merry-go-round at the playground and trying to jump on when it was going it's fastest. Or the bleached out skin on my knee from tripping on blacktop trying to out run a team for first place in an orienteering meet. (OK, I was clumsy too.) Some are a reminder that my bones grew faster than my muscles could keep up like the 3 holes in my knee from the numerous dislocations I had to have repaired. And some of them, like my mastectomy scar and the scar from the 42 staples on my leg, make me sad but also remind me just how far I have come and how lucky I am to be alive.
I am not the scared little girl that started this journey. I am not alone and I am certainly not alone in this fight. I have been lucky to not only beat this disease but to have the opportunity to share my story so that others may learn from my mistakes, my heart brakes, my triumphs and my good deeds. Cancer may still beat me in the end. But before I go, I will spend my time trying to make the biggest impact that I can to inspire the next generation to fight. Like Gwen inspired me.
So today it is all too fitting that when I heard the song "Name" by the Goo Goo Dolls that I relate it to today's post. Particularly the line "Scars are souvenirs you never lose, the past is never far."
I have many scars. Some show my ambition, like the gouge out of my shin from running along side of the merry-go-round at the playground and trying to jump on when it was going it's fastest. Or the bleached out skin on my knee from tripping on blacktop trying to out run a team for first place in an orienteering meet. (OK, I was clumsy too.) Some are a reminder that my bones grew faster than my muscles could keep up like the 3 holes in my knee from the numerous dislocations I had to have repaired. And some of them, like my mastectomy scar and the scar from the 42 staples on my leg, make me sad but also remind me just how far I have come and how lucky I am to be alive.
I am not the scared little girl that started this journey. I am not alone and I am certainly not alone in this fight. I have been lucky to not only beat this disease but to have the opportunity to share my story so that others may learn from my mistakes, my heart brakes, my triumphs and my good deeds. Cancer may still beat me in the end. But before I go, I will spend my time trying to make the biggest impact that I can to inspire the next generation to fight. Like Gwen inspired me.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Chemo
Chemo is a crazy beast. It is everything people think it is and worse. Or at least it used to be. I take solace in thinking that a lot of things have changed as far as treatments go in the last 13 years.
As a first timer it is an incredible mix of being sad and scared. Here you are with all of your hair walking past people of all races, colors and ages and it becomes abundantly clear that cancer does not discriminate. You read every face that you pass and wonder which cancer has been eating away at them. Some people were sleeping, others reading, some just looking around. Some people had a friend or spouse or other support person with them. Some were alone. Some people were proudly bald, some had new hair growth, some wore hats. There were a few women with beautiful scarves tied neatly around their heads. Everyone watches you, pities you, because you have no idea how shitty this is going to be. It's like walking the Green Mile.
My mother always sat with me. Always. I think it was harder for her than it was for me. Now that I am a mother I have a new appreciation for what she went through. The helplessness is debilitating. She always said that if she could trade places with me, she would. I know that wasn't just talk.
My friend Natalie was with me all but one of my treatments. Even coming home from school to hold my hand. That was huge. I realize that more now than when it was happening especially because we were kids and the world was her oyster. She could have been anywhere and done anything but she was with me to show that she hadn't given up on me and I shouldn't give up either.
Another memory of all of this was that the cafeteria at Barnes was directly below the chemo room. My brain made the association with the smell of the Aunt Annie's Pretzels with being sick from chemo. For several years the smell of pretzels made me throw up. I wish I was kidding about that! I love hot pretzels!
After a treatment I would be very tired. I was still trying to work and would often fall asleep on the job. I was still trying to hide it and would often get ribbed for "being out too late again" last night. Sometimes that was true, I have to admit. I played hard for many years. But the chemo was a huge energy drain. On the third day like clock work the nausea would start. I would throw up for days at a time. I remember feeling paralyzed in my bed because I felt that if I moved just a muscle I would throw up again. How can you vomit so much without eating? My throat was raw. My body was weak. It was like the flu times a million.
And then the worst of it would pass. In the next two weeks I would do my best to rest up and eat if I could so that I would be ready for the next treatment. Then it would start all over again.
I was lucky in so many ways. I made it to the other side. I have been in remission ever since. At the time I didn't understand that. I was just mad. I hated cancer, I still do. I hate everything about it. I hated having it. I hated that some of the people in that chemo room were there every week that I was and would probably be there for weeks after I was done. I hated when some of those people I got used to seeing weren't there and I had to wonder if they had been cured, had passed away or changed their appointment times. I hated that my friends were having the time of their lives and I was just trying to live. This was the beginning of a very dark time in my life.
As a first timer it is an incredible mix of being sad and scared. Here you are with all of your hair walking past people of all races, colors and ages and it becomes abundantly clear that cancer does not discriminate. You read every face that you pass and wonder which cancer has been eating away at them. Some people were sleeping, others reading, some just looking around. Some people had a friend or spouse or other support person with them. Some were alone. Some people were proudly bald, some had new hair growth, some wore hats. There were a few women with beautiful scarves tied neatly around their heads. Everyone watches you, pities you, because you have no idea how shitty this is going to be. It's like walking the Green Mile.
My mother always sat with me. Always. I think it was harder for her than it was for me. Now that I am a mother I have a new appreciation for what she went through. The helplessness is debilitating. She always said that if she could trade places with me, she would. I know that wasn't just talk.
My friend Natalie was with me all but one of my treatments. Even coming home from school to hold my hand. That was huge. I realize that more now than when it was happening especially because we were kids and the world was her oyster. She could have been anywhere and done anything but she was with me to show that she hadn't given up on me and I shouldn't give up either.
Another memory of all of this was that the cafeteria at Barnes was directly below the chemo room. My brain made the association with the smell of the Aunt Annie's Pretzels with being sick from chemo. For several years the smell of pretzels made me throw up. I wish I was kidding about that! I love hot pretzels!
After a treatment I would be very tired. I was still trying to work and would often fall asleep on the job. I was still trying to hide it and would often get ribbed for "being out too late again" last night. Sometimes that was true, I have to admit. I played hard for many years. But the chemo was a huge energy drain. On the third day like clock work the nausea would start. I would throw up for days at a time. I remember feeling paralyzed in my bed because I felt that if I moved just a muscle I would throw up again. How can you vomit so much without eating? My throat was raw. My body was weak. It was like the flu times a million.
And then the worst of it would pass. In the next two weeks I would do my best to rest up and eat if I could so that I would be ready for the next treatment. Then it would start all over again.
I was lucky in so many ways. I made it to the other side. I have been in remission ever since. At the time I didn't understand that. I was just mad. I hated cancer, I still do. I hate everything about it. I hated having it. I hated that some of the people in that chemo room were there every week that I was and would probably be there for weeks after I was done. I hated when some of those people I got used to seeing weren't there and I had to wonder if they had been cured, had passed away or changed their appointment times. I hated that my friends were having the time of their lives and I was just trying to live. This was the beginning of a very dark time in my life.
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