Cancerversary

At 2:35 pm on Monday, February 13, 2012, I received a phone call that made me feel like my life was spiraling out of control. I had called earlier that day to get the results of my biopsy and was actually teaching with my phone in my hand just in case I got a call while I had class. But that is not when I got my phone call. I was actually on my way to a faculty meeting. "Kelly, It's Dr. ___. Do you have a minute to talk? If not, I can call you tonight." "Of course I want to talk about this!" is what I wanted to say but instead I was pleasant and started walking toward a more private area than the hallway I was standing in. I was shaking because I new if my actual doctor was calling me, this was bad. Then I heard the words that changed my life "You have infiltrative ductal carcinoma." My friends Heather and Jeanne were walking to the meeting as well and saw me walking quickly while on the phone looking frazzled and they quickly followed me. I remember writing furiously while shaking. I remember exactly what Jeanne was wearing - an orange shirt that I really like. Heather was wearing a shirt that had a little shimmer to it. All things around me were things I encountered everyday, this was a normal day and then it wasn't. I remember Jeanne sitting across the table from me watching me write and trying to read it. Heather was just rubbing my back and telling me to breathe. I was told that they were going to make an appointment for me to see a surgeon. I was told that my doctor would call me back at 7:30 pm to check in and see if I had more questions after I had time to process this information. I remember asking "How do tell your husband you have cancer?" I believe there was an offer to have either Heather or Jeanne call my husband but I needed to do it. Joe's reaction was not expected. He just said "Well, what is the next step?" He was completely calm. We have talked about that moment since then and he says he knew I would be fine so he didn't want to freak out over it. I can tell you that he did react more when he had to tell his family and when we found out it was Her2Neu positive (Monday, February 27). I realized I was done with Ironman for the year which was just difficult to process. At 3pm, I went to my faculty meeting. At 3:20 I got a phone call for an appointment with my surgeon. Then I went to my classroom, packed my stuff and went to the gym. From 4:30 to 5:15 I worked as hard as I possibly could on the spin bike in spin class. All I wanted to do was scream. I had jelly legs from my effort when I got off the bike. I left the gym, composed myself, and called my sister. I asked her to go somewhere the kids couldn't see her and she did. I told her. And there was silence on the phone, just sniffling. I assured her I would be fine and told her I was heading my my parents to tell them and someone would call her back in a couple minutes. I told my parents who kept it together really well while I was there and gave me information from my mother's cancer diagnosis so that I could bring it with me to the appointments to give some more information. I talked to Kate who for the first time lost it with me. Spiraling out of control. That is how my life felt. I finally got home, talked to my doctor, and then Joe came home. He walked right over to me and hugged me and I just cried. From February 15th through 16th, I saw a surgeon, an oncologist, and a radiation oncologist. I showed up to all of the appointments with my Ironman clothes on - I wanted them to know where my passion lies so that they knew what they were dealing with right up front. I was given so much information that my head was spinning. I went about my workdays as normal as I possibly could. I had many meeting with my principal to discuss how we tell the staff and students. I wanted to make sure there was no pitty, no excessive hugging going to happen so we decided the day before vacation was the perfect day to tell the faculty since I had to leave for an MRI anyway and I wouldn't have to be at the meeting. We decided to tell the students later when we knew when I had surgery scheduled. It made life easier for me if people around me knew what was going on since I wasn't always focused and feeling like I was keeping a secret was just weighing me down. I went and did the HMRRC relay which was difficult because it was the first time people I knew from Ironman were around and they were asking "How's Ironman training going?" I had to tell them I wasn't doing the race. This was tough. During this time, I had to tell friends. My favorite, and in my opinion, the best response was from Amy. When she heard, all she texted me was "Well, s*@t!" Then I went on vacation in Florida for 1 week. I really needed that vacation. Now, after 1 year of highs and lows, I faced this day with feelings all over the board. I am so glad my day at work was busy because I didn't think about it at all. This is a 100% improvement from1 year ago when all I could think about was cancer. Once I had time to think, anger came around. I was out for a run and just couldn't reel in my effort - so much for a progression run, more like an all out 5K and I loved the pain associated with it, the completely breathless feeling, the screaming my muscles and mind were doing telling me this was not what the workout called for. This made me feel alive. This is my drug of choice to control my stress - running. After my run was over and my breathing was getting back under control, I cried. How could this have happened to me? I still wonder that. I remember saying to Jeanne last year that I didn't want to be a martyr, I wanted an "easy" cancer. I wanted people to look at me and say "You got off easy." That didn't exactly happen. I said cancer could take part in 1 year of my life. It has been 1 year and I am not done with treatment yet. This was not my plan and that makes me angry. I have learned that I "can't always get what I want" all of the time - who knew?? I have struggled today to figure out what today means to me, I have no idea what the answer to that question is but I wonder if next year, when this day comes, maybe it won't be so emotional. Tomorrow is another day. I am growing more and more accustomed to a new body each day. I know that cancer has changed me but I am a formidable foe with more motivation each day to show the world what I have in me. Cancer gave me something to, a new mantra for my difficult runs which helps me every time I feel like I can't put one foot in front of the other anymore and this will get me through a marathon in a few months, a 70.3, and Ironman - "I have been through worse and conquered. Today is easier than cancer treatment."