My First 5K!

A couple of days ago, I found out about the Free to Breathe 5K, which is taking place in a suburb of Dallas on May 21. I found out about it through this news story, forwarded to me by my mom.

As most of you know, my father died of lung cancer in the fall of 2009. The chance to raise funds for the National Lung Cancer Partnership was an opportunity I just couldn't pass up. Last fall, I found out about another charity event put on by the American Lung Association, and even signed up, but it just wasn't the right event for me(a 52-story stairclimb? Yikes!) This one is much more palatable.

So, I signed up yesterday - and in a little over 24 hours, I've already raised nearly 50% of my $500 goal! I have no illusions that this is all because of me. I know people are giving money to the cause because they loved and cared about Wayne, or because they were by my mom's side through the whole ordeal.

This will be my first 5K. I'll probably walk most of it, but I may get up a jog or two in there. I'm hoping to push Ben in a (borrowed) jogging stroller, so he can be along for the journey (otherwise, I'm going it alone - which I'm fine with). My mom will be there to cheer me on from the sidelines. And Branden would be walking with me, except that he just started a second job, and will be working until 2 AM the night before. I'm giving him a pass on this one.

If you'd like to donate, you can visit my fundraising page here. Or just go and take a look at the little tribute I wrote about Wayne. He was such a special guy, and I am so, so fortunate I got to know and love and be loved by him for 20 years of my life.

A Shared Pain

Last night, I watched Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette perform a courageous short program, just two days after her mother unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack.

It was too much for me to take. Because I know her pain.

I may not be an Olympic figure skater. But that look on her face when she finished her skate, as she was overcome with emotion - I know that pain.

And I know all too well the feeling of going through something so huge and wishing, wanting with all your heart, that you could share it with that parent who sacrificed so much for you.

But it's just not meant to be. So you go on, you forge ahead. Because that's all you can do.

There's irony in our situations, me and Joannie. Terrible, painful irony. Joannie would not have made it to the Olympics if her mother hadn't sacrificed so much for her dreams of being a champion. And I wouldn't be four weeks away from having my first baby if I hadn't found out last summer that my father was dying of cancer.

I so desperately wanted him to meet his grandson. We pushed up our timeline on having a baby because we wanted that so badly. And oh, how he tried to make that happen for us. Up until just a couple of weeks before he died, Wayne was still talking about how he was determined to stick around so he could hold his grandbaby.

I told him, a week or so before he died, that it was okay. We all knew his time was near, and I told him it was okay that he couldn't stick around. We'd be okay, me and Branden and the baby.

And we will be. Because we have to be. What other choice is there? But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, when I feel this child move inside me and think how very much Wayne would've enjoyed this time. When I think about the moment my mom enters the room to meet her grandson for the first time, and how Wayne should've been there too.

And so, while I might not be an Olympic figure skater, I know the pain Joannie is experiencing. And I feel for her. My heart goes out to her. That is a pain I don't wish on anyone.

My heart also goes out to my friend Serena, who lost her mother to the evil that is cancer over the weekend. Serena, I wish I could be there to give you a big hug. I know too well the heartache you are dealing with, and I wish you didn't have to go through it.

It doesn't get any easier...

I'm really trying to stay positive...but today certainly didn't help.

Over the weekend, I got confirmation on my suspicions regarding Wayne. I suspected that once he was bedridden, that was the beginning of the end. I just know him and I know his spirit and I knew that he wouldn't want to live like that. On Friday, he told my mom and me that he was ready to go. That he didn't want to be a burden on anyone anymore, and he knew his time was coming.

Today, more news. Wayne's hospice nurse suspects the beginnings of pneumonia and a UTI. Because he doesn't wish to have any life-prolonging care or treatment, he won't receive antibiotics. So the nurse doubled his morphine and that was that. It's likely the infection could end his life sooner.

My mom has been great throughout this process. She has been there by his side every step of the way, learning everything she can to support him and help herself through each stage. She has been a wonderful advocate for him, as well as a caretaker and companion. I am so proud of her. I will not call her strong, because I learned from a recent widow from our Gilda's Club support group that they get tired of being called strong when they feel anything but. I will say that she has done everything she could for him, and more.

I really tried to soldier on through the day after hearing the latest news, and I was doing a pretty good job until I left work. I was in a rush to catch the bus and tried to take a shortcut over the grass berm in front of our building. Big Mistake! As soon as I hit the downhill slope, I felt my feet fall out from under me and I went crashing down on my rear end. Did I mention that said berm was quite muddy? So I sat there, covered in mud, and watched my bus drive right on by. Thank goodness for a kind coworker (and friend) who gave me a ride home, despite being covered in mud!

Life goes on, right? So I'm waiting for my dryer to beep so I can throw on some clothes and go get groceries. Such is life...

Catching up

For those of you who haven't been following me as Citysaur on the Pregosaur blog, I thought it would be nice to have a little update over here on how things have been going.

On the pregnancy front, I am now safely ensconced in the 2nd trimester. Today marks 15 weeks of pregnancy. Our little one is now 4 inches long, and has reflexes, facial movements (like frowning and squinting) and is sensitive to light (they say if you shine a light on the belly, baby will move away from it). I'm not showing much yet, though I can definitely tell I'm getting bigger. My regular pants are all but obsolete now. And it will probably still be a while before I can feel little baby movements (it generally takes longer if you have a little more "padding", shall we say!). As far as I can tell, everything is going well in there. We had an appointment with the Birth and Women's Center, where we will be delivering, on September 14. It was a great appointment - we got to hear baby's heartbeat, which was a healthy 166 BPM. Things seem to be going along swimmingly so far! And we'll find out on October 26 whether it's a little girl or a little boy in there!

Branden's still doing quite well in school - he even got a scholarship award this year! He's taking 12 graduate hours this fall (4 classes - one on Monday, one on Wednesday, and two on Thursday), so that keeps him pretty busy. A month ago, he was cleared to do half days on bike, and that helped his morale at work quite a bit. He should be good to go full days whenever he's ready - the doc said October, which starts tomorrow! I know that will be a big relief for him - the 9 months he spent doing dispatch all day really wore on him.

In other family news, my stepdad is still hanging in there. He has ups and downs, good days and bad days, and it's all guesswork as to how long he'll be around. He's still hoping to be around to see the baby in the Spring, and I know I'd love it if that were to happen! He's been battling edema for several weeks, mostly in his legs and feet, and he still has over 20 lbs of water weight on him. He went into hospice care several weeks ago, and it did make a huge difference in his comfort level almost immediately. They put him on a medication regiment that helped control his coughing, which had been his biggest source of discomfort. He gave us quite a scare yesterday morning - I happened to have taken the day off to go spend time with him, and his breathing was labored, and he wasn't acting like himself at all. By the dinner time, he was much more himself, and I'm hoping he continues to improve. Still no idea what caused this, and care for hospice patients is a little different anyway, so the doctors don't seem to be in as big a rush to get to the bottom of it.

So as you can see, life's been full of ups and downs lately. I'm going to try to be more faithful in my blog updates from now on. Love to you all!

I have been blogging...

Just not here.

I've joined the blog at Pregosaur - and in case you need any hints, I'm Citysaur.

It's been a good way to get out my thoughts and feelings on this pregnancy journey, without always bugging my friends and family with every little bit of info - though they've all been more than gracious about sharing in the experience with me.

In other news, my stepdad is still hanging in there. He's in good spirits, and has a great attitude about everything. The latest news is that they've started hospice care, which will be a huge help for them both, I believe. I'm just trying to enjoy every single visit with them as much as possible, having no idea how much longer we have. I'm still going to group therapy at Gilda's Club, and it's been a tremendous experience. We missed for the first time this week because I was feeling under the weather - just a little sinus/allergy problem that's already starting to clear up.

That's it for now! More later, I promise!

What Cancer Cannot Do

This poem is framed and sitting in the Gilda's Club library. I found it very inspiring and just wanted to pass it along...

What Cancer Cannot Do

Cancer is so limited...

It cannot cripple love

It cannot shatter hope

It cannot corrode faith

It cannot destroy peace

It cannot kill friendship

It cannot suppress memories

It cannot silence courage

It cannot invade the soul

It cannot steal eternal life

It cannot conquer the spirit.

Gilda's Club

I'm officially a member of Gilda's Club!

After having an emotional break down at work last week, I decided it was time to reach out for my support. Luckily for me, the Dallas location of Gilda's Club is just a block away from my office - it doesn't get much more convenient than that!

Gilda's Club is a nonprofit support organization for anyone affected by cancer. Their motto is "Cancer support for the whole family, the whole time." They have group therapy, wellness activities, networking groups, fun/informational activities, socials - even an on-site work out room! The whole thing is housed in a home-like setting which immediately puts you at ease.

Branden and I attended our New Member meeting last night, and today I had my one-on-one appointment to design my customized membership experience. I start my family & friends support group next week! I'm so glad to be going so soon. It feels weird to say I'm excited, but I am looking forward to talking to others with similar experiences and emotions.

Oh, and the best part of Gilda's Club? Every single thing is F-R-E-E. I like the sound of that.

They also have a small library, mostly filled with cancer/self-help/support books, but also including a section of general fiction. I already checked out two books:

My librarian mother instilled in me the belief that answers can often be found in the pages of a book, so that's where I'm turning.

To round out my education, I have placed "Saturday Night Live's The Best of Gilda Radner" at the top of my Netflix queue - I'd like to see some of the wonderful woman who inspired all of this. She was a bit before my SNL time (I watched during the era of Adam Sandler, Jon Lovitz, et.al.) - so I'm looking forward to some laughs when it comes in.

I am not okay

I have to admit it...as much as I've tried this week to be okay, I am not okay.

I will be. But I am not yet.

I have tried to be strong, and for the most part it has worked. And I know I will continue to be strong. But deep down inside, I am not okay.

I am not okay with the fact that my stepdad has lung cancer. That is not okay with me. That makes me angry, and hurt, and it is just so wrong. It isn't supposed to happen to him. He is too good for that. It's not okay.

It has been one week since my parents invited us over to tell us the news. I am inspired and in awe of their positive attitude. I am doing my best to emulate that positive attitude. For the most part, I am doing a good job. But I still know that deep down inside, I am not okay.

I am not okay with the fact that it is stage three...and inoperable. I am not okay with what he is going to have to go through...the chemo, the radiation...whatever course of action is decided upon by his doctors once all the test results (needle biopsy, PET scan) come in. I am not okay with the fact that I now know what a PET scan is. I am not okay with the fact that dirty, ugly, black cancerous cells are making themselves at home inside his lungs. They have no right to be there.

I know in my heart of hearts that he will fight this. That he will go into remission. That my parents will have great vacations and fun RV trips. That he will be in the waiting room when I give birth to my first child. That he will be around to see that child grow up, at least for a little while. That he will have a wonderful life, just as he has the past 66 years, until it is his time. The doctors say he has a really good chance of making it to the 5 year mark, because he's otherwise in such good health. And that's just an average...it could be much more than that.

I am definitely okay...in fact, proud...of the fact that he is in such good health. I am proud that he has lost so much weight (in a healthy way) since his triple bypass surgery three years ago. I am proud that because of those choices, his body is prepared to fight. He's always had a fighting spirit...I know that from all the stories he's told me over the years...but now he has the body to match. I am proud of him for that.

I can't decide if Branden's surgery has been a good distraction from all this...I'd like to think it has. Taking care of him post-surgery has taken up most of my physical and emotional energy since then. He's been an excellent patient, and I know he hates feeling like a burden. But he has not been a burden. I am taking care of him because I love him, because I made a vow that I would be there for him no matter what, and because I know he would do the same for me. It really isn't any trouble...it's just energy-consuming, what with fixing meals, keeping up with his Polar Care 500, taking out the dogs four times a day, keeping things picked up, making sure he's clean and well-fed and has water and medicine and entertainment...

Like I said, it's no problem. It just consumes my energy. And so I am not okay. Not yet. And perhaps I'm not supposed to be yet. Maybe that's okay. Maybe it's okay that as I sit here, listening to the hum of his cooler, watching him sleep, that tears roll down my face. Maybe it's okay that I had to leave my best friend's party because I couldn't sit there and watch people smoke. (I feel awful about that...it was her day, and I wasn't okay enough to celebrate with her).

I do know that I've never felt so old as I do now. These are adult situations that I'm dealing with, and I hope, at least outwardly, that I am dealing with them with as much grace as I can muster. This blog post...this isn't my public face. These are my private thoughts...but somehow it helps to get them out in the world.

I am not okay...but I will be. I don't need sympathy...if anyone deserves that, it's Wayne, or Branden, or my Mom, who are all doing what they have to do to move on. I am playing my part, and I will be okay. Really, I will.