Friendship Introspection, Part I

Over the years I have had the pleasure of having moved from one city to another by being the child of a member of the Air Force. Both my mom and my dad (and my step-dad) were active duty at certain points of our lives and so I grew up in never having lived in one place for more than 3 years until we moved to Cincinnati, Ohio and I enrolled in 6th grade at Kings Mills Middle School.

I am also an only child. Being an only child and one who has moved around, I honestly don’t have much recollection of my childhood years, especially school years. I don’t remember my friends from those years because they were so random and scattered. I think not having anyone else to connect those times and places to limits my recall capacity in some way. I remember summers, spent with my grandparents in Marion or Ashland, Ohio; or at a Bible camp a couple times. I remember a friend here and there who I saw every summer because they lived near my grandparents or were at camp. But individual grades or teachers are out of reach for my memory and always have been.

Cincinnati and Kings Mills is where things start to settle into my head better and I have a clear memory of my friends there, my teachers, the classrooms, the fun and the laughs and the things we learned. From there my mom and I moved to Ocean Springs, Mississippi where I would graduate high school and find another set of friends. I have to say that after years of moving around the States, living in the south truly felt like home for me. I don’t know if it was the pace, the beach, the food, the colors, or everything combined but there is a kinship I feel with the Gulf Coast. I only have to read something from there or start to recall a memory out loud and my drawl will kick in (Brian adores it).

I traveled over to Mobile, Alabama to attend college, graduated and stayed on (even after my mom had moved back “up north") there until 1996, when I decided that it was time to move on. I packed up and headed to Columbus, Ohio where I met and married Brian, where we live now.

Beyond school, my friends came from work. My college years (as well as when I moved to Columbus) were filled with friends from the restaurant and bar world. These are great friends who are seriously down for a good time. The memories (and sometimes the lack there of) that I have of concerts, crawls, football games, after parties, and on and on…oh my. Thank goodness the Internet was not around then. Just sayin’.

However, I am very happy to say that because of the Internet I was able to reconnect with and am able to stay connected with many friends with whom I have lost contact through the years. I’m not a good letter writer and I don’t really like to gab on the phone, so email and Facebook have made the world smaller for me.

To be continued . . . 

To biopsy or not to biopsy...

That was the question...

My apologies for the sometimes cryptic statuses over the last several weeks: I wasn’t trying to be mysterious or inviting attention. I was venting some frustrations and pain and fear while at the same time trying to keep some information contained. I have friends who are family and family who had events going on last weekend and honestly, with all the unknown aspects of what was going on – there was just no reason to lay it all out here. Had there been more certainty in what was going to happen at any given point, I promise I would have been more open, because I believe in sharing my life in hopes that it teaches something…

The journey of a cancer survivor trying to get answers is never easy and never quick.

I ride horses. I LOVE riding – it helps to keep me sane and is a major way to relieve stress. I am able to communicate with a creature who is larger than life, who is waiting for my commands, and who is thinking for itself. Well, sometimes this works against humans. In September, a horse I had been riding for about a year threw me off. Hard. When I hit the ground I had the wind completely knocked out of me. I remember getting mad because I couldn’t breathe and telling myself to breathe. I sucked in some air and blacked out. When I came too I heard myself groaning and the sound of sirens. I ended up at the emergency room in Delaware, where it was determined I had 3 broken ribs on the right side, a mild concussion, a sprained left shoulder, and some bruising on my right hip. I recovered through the fall and started riding again last month.

Meanwhile, at Christmas, I had a nasty cold, accompanied by some severe pain on my left front chest. This is also the side on which I had my breast cancer. I then had bronchitis with a lovely cough. The pain mellowed and moved from the front to the side, but has remained (along with the cough).

At some point during the holidays, because of the pain, I had a couple chest xrays and both were negative. It was sort of thought that I probably had pleurisy or perhaps coughed myself into a broken rib. But when the pain continued my primary care doc ordered a bone scan.

Now, for those of you that don’t know, a bone scan is used to look for metastatic cancer lesions, but will also show healing spots (like fractures) and other things. I had a “hot spot” show up on left rib and my left shoulder blade. Well, this caused chaos.

My primary care doc and my oncologist both decided these could be metastatic spots because they were so isolated. At this point, of course, I am freaking out too. My left shoulder had not been in pain so for a spot to show up there REALLY concerned me.

I contacted a longtime friend who is also an excellent radiologist, and asked him to pull the films from the Delaware ER (where I went when I was thrown from the horse) to see what he could see. He found a shattered left shoulder blade, which I never knew about, and which explained the hot spot showing up on bone scan, but couldn't see the left ribs to see anything different there.

In advance of the rib biopsy, I was scheduled to have a chest CT. On Saturday, both my radiologist friend and my oncologist called- both felt that the spot on the left rib looked to be a healing fracture and nothing else. The last step would be to gather as many films as possible and get a really big picture of what was going on.

I was scheduled to have the biopsy this morning at 6am.

Yesterday afternoon my oncologist called and the radiologist scheduled to actually do the biopsy recommended against it. The feeling was overwhelming that the spot being seen on the bone scan is definitely a recent break, different from the right side fractures from September, probably not cancer mets, and not worth a biopsy!!

The current plan is to wait and if it doesn't heal or gets worse will rescan in 6-8 weeks, and I am completely fine with this. I have some good pain medications that don’t knock me out, just help with the minor twinges. And perhaps now I can start sleeping again!

So -alls well that ends well!

For now.

As my oncologist said “until the next shit hits the fan.”

*sighs*

Such is life as a survivor.

However, I am always thankful that I am one.

You are invited...

Yesterday morning, one of my Columbus friends passed away from metastatic breast cancer. She was just 36 years old. She was diagnosed at the age of 31, just 3 weeks before she was married. Yolanda discovered the YSC and all that it offered 3 years ago by coming to our annual Conference for Young Survivors on a scholarship. She attended Project LEAD and learned about the science behind breast cancer. She joined other YSC volunteers at our affiliate leadership conference a year ago. She wasn’t just surviving – she was thriving because she found an organization just for her – the YSC. Next Friday night, November 6th, the Central Ohio Affiliate of the YSC will be holding its annual fundraiser, In Living Pink. This gala event provides the necessary funding to allow local young women diagnosed with breast cancer to find supportive programs and services just for them. It brings together families and friends of those living with the disease, and those who have passed, and those who work to fight it. In this month of pinkness ~ this event is unique because it is about Yolanda: young women with breast cancer.

In addition to raising money through raffles and live/silent auctions, we’ll celebrate the accomplishments and contributions of special friends of the YSC:

• Miguel Perez and Ologie
• Dr. Ewa Mrozek
• Jody M. Carrico

Please join us as we gather to honor those who passed yesterday, celebrate with those who thrive today, and raise money to support those who will be diagnosed tomorrow, so they will not be alone.

Heavy hors d’oeuvres ~ Cash bar ~ Live music by 80’s cover band “Six Pack Theory”

DATE: Friday, November 6, 2009
TIME: 7pm – 11pm
LOCATION: Worthington Hills Country Club, 920 Clubview Blvd. S.
COST: $75 per person, $35 for Survivors

To register (or make a donation if you are unable to attend) please click here but you must do so by October 30!!

A time to mourn, and a time to dance

Today is Tracy's birthday. She would've been 42.

I've been in a funk all week. Realistically, I think it has to do with overly high expectations and tensions at work, training for the Tour de Pink, and lots of other things . . .

And then sweet Jamie posted her blog update today about it being Tracy's birthday . . .

I keep Tracy's remembrance card from the funeral in my car and I look at it almost every day. I wonder if by some strange act I happened to catch that this week . . . this day . . . was Tracy's birthday. I wonder if subconsciously that fact settled into my thoughts and moods and has driven me into a funk . . .

A poor excuse because in all actuality, I should not mourn the fact that Tracy is not here. That is selfish for me. She is without pain, without cancer, with her hair, her beautiful strong body, and her spirit is free to do what ever the hell she wants to do . .

But most importantly, in my mind's eye, I see Tracy doing the chicken dance. Because that is what she wanted to do most at her son Jason's wedding some day.

She will not get the chance to do that in her mortal form . . .but many of us will . . . on many other occasions with her on our minds and with smiles in our hearts.

We miss you Tracy . . . and now we dance!!

I'm Back!

Well- actually - I never went away!
I've been busy with other projects...
Perhaps you have been made aware of the YSC Puck Bunnies? It's the team that consists of myself and Alison Lukan , riding in the Tour de Pink to raise money and awareness about the Young Survival Coalition. We started a website/bog, a twitter, page, and of course have been fundraising like mad-rabbits in order to meet our minimum.
Then, as a part of that, we also organized a hockey game to raise money for the local YSC chapter in Columbus.
And of course now I am in training for the TdP itself.
So, yeah - I'm busy. Lots going on.
But I want to get back into writing because I need this outlet, even if no one reads it :-)

I'm updating my links too - so please make sure to click on those to read up on some of my favorite writers.
Some of them are new:

• Alison has her own blog~ it's this incredible project wherein she writes up about how someone or something has touched her life. It's very personal and thoughtful.
• Several months ago when I was grieving for Tracy Pleva Hill, I mentioned that her sister Jamie had also been recently diagnosed. Jamie has invited us all to join her on her journey and her treatment is ending soon. You can go back and see her evolve to where she is now. The healing will begin!
• Leigh is a person I am acquainted with only professionally through a YSC project and she is smart, funny and a brilliant writer. Through her blog you will want to click on and on and on...
• LeAnn has always been there from the start. Luke and Anabel (A) are growing and gorgeous!
• I love Three Woofs because the writer has the same humor as me for humanizing the thoughts of animals!
• and finally, FUPenguins, puts it all into perspective because, honestly, we take ourselves much too seriously.

So - hopefully you will tune back in and I will have something interesting to say!

Still learning...

The last six weeks or so my life has been a dizzying whirlwind of emotion.

My feet have remained firmly planted on the ground while my heart spirals around grasping at various occurrences at complete contrast with each other, and my mind struggles to make sense of it all and prioritize the nonsense that happens in between. All the while, regular ol' life continues to move by: work inbox continues to fill and the bills continue to arrive in the mail.

I won't bother going backwards and coming forwards because honestly, it's too depressing. Just suffice to say that many friends have passed in too short of a time to be even fathomable. Add to that, that I enjoyed a wonderful birthday celebration and my beloved Columbus Blue Jackets have been enjoying tremendous success....and it has indeed been a whirlwind.

But I need to write about Jody.

I know about cancer. Knowing Jody has taught me about other things.I know I will get details of her story wrong and that is important to note right here at the top. But the gist is this: Jody WAS the epitome of a young woman with breast cancer. She WAS the Young Survival Coalition. Unfortunately, the disease that brought her into this sorority took her life on March 12, 2009.

But let's go backwards with her. I first posted about her back in September when her husband Marty was killed in the line of duty. But my friendship with her began long before then. I knew Jody before I met her. Back in late 2002, early 2003, when I coordinated tumor boards at OhioHealth her case was presented and I remember being struck: she had pointed out a lump in her breast to her doctor who had dismissed it and her as being "too young for breast cancer." These words are still heard much too often by YSC constituents. A little later she developed back pain. Later she went to the emergency room unable to move her right leg. Scans revealed a mass on her right femur as well as her sternum. Biopsies confirmed these as metastatic breast cancer.

I remember thinking "I must meet this girl." She walked into a support group I co-facilitated at Grant Medical Center. She had changed where was getting treated but she had still heard of the group. She was struggling with how to handle the anger at her first doctor. Ultimately she went on tv and told her story. I believe the doctor apologized to her. I am certain he or she will never forget her.

Over the next few years, Jody would come and go as she needed. She was not immediately on chemo and traveled and enjoyed her life as she always had. She became more and more involved with our local YSC chapter. More importantly, a man she had started to date just prior to her diagnosis, but then pushed away, showed back up. And he was not afraid of cancer, Marty Martin was not afraid of anything. In Marty, Jody found her true love and her soulmate. They married, built a farm, started a kennel to raise and train Belgian Malinois . . .

But then the cancer started to make it's vicious voice heard again. Jody was on chemo again and again. She had some surgeries. Still, I started to see her more and more as she became even more involved with YSC Central Ohio. My life shifted all over, but she was there. We exchanged emails and calls and Jody taught me about various subjects unrelated to cancer . . . dogs, vegetables, organic herbs.

And then Saturday September 6th happened. And Marty was gone. In the months since then I have seen Jody a few times, emailed with her a few times, and spoken on the phone a few times; the last of which was last Monday, March 9th. A mutual friend had said that Jody had returned from Chicago and that the outlook was not good, and that Jody was not returning calls or emails. I took a chance and Jody took my call. She wasn't completely honest with me, as Jody was prone to not be in these matters. . .she told me her bilirubin was very high, and that she planned to return to Chicago to formulate a plan, and that I could call her the following week.

On Wednesday, her mother, Nancy, called me and said Jody had turned, and asked if I could help in contacting some YSC friends. I headed to their house and remained there well into the night (many blessings upon the Carrico family for putting up with my presence). Much of my time was spent with Jody, laying with her and sitting with her, along with her family and friends. What an honor it is to be with someone as they are slipping away. What an honor to feel the pain and love in the room. It is truly palpable. It is something I hate to recommend but yet have no regrets about having done.

A gathering of YSC gals came out later and as they left I said my final goodbyes and left also, as Jody held on tenuously. And on Thursday she slipped away peacefully. On Monday, March 16th, we said good-bye, and Jody and Marty are now together again.

Jody's loss has gutted me more than any ones. For the last week, my heart has ached. For the last week, my chest has hurt from crying so much. I have broken down in the shower, in the car, and in Trader Joe's. I have swung from deep depressing sleepless hours to sheer exhaustion. Meanwhile, I have been expected to carry on as per usual at work and deal with whatever antics and drama arise. My priorities and capabilities have been questioned by some. In the midst of everything, I was shown what is truly important to me about other people.

I feel stronger that ever. I have learned so much in the last few weeks as I have gone through this - Jody still teaching :)

As I was dumping about all of this to a good friend recently, she said to me "You are a giver. And now you need to surround yourself with givers. Not takers."

Jody gave me so much.

The Big 4.0

So here it is.

I am turning 40 on this Sunday. I write this in the week prior with so much in my head and heart.

I approach this birthday milestone with what I feel may be more than the usual mixed bag of feelings that most women do when they round 39. I have the usual vanity complex: "omg - how did this happen? when did I turn 40? I don't feel 40! I hope I don't look 40! Am I really old now? Am I still beautiful?"

But being a breast cancer survivor makes 40 ironic as well. At 4o years old, I am now eligible to finally get "screening mammograms." However, as an 8 year survivor, I am long past that. In fact, at my recent annual gyn exam, during the intake with a new-to-me medical assistant, the conversation went something like this:

'Tifani': Sooooo...I see someone is about to turn 40!!! That means you now need to get screening mammograms (does this, I kid you not, with air quotes...turns to computer with my electronic record pulled up)...let's see....have you had a mammogram before?

me: (long pause) Yusssssss

'Tifani': Ah yes...I see it here....hmmmm it looks like they only did one side...I wonder why that is? Did you have some sort of issue? Was everything okay with this mammogram?

me: (staring hard at left hand static column of screen where "personal history significant for breast cancer. status post left mastectomy, chemo, oopherectomy" can be clearly seen, again...long pause) Yusssssss

'Tifani': Huh. Well, I don't know why...well that's certainly strange...it even says return in one year...(and then the pointer finally reaches the left hand column and hovers as Tifani takes it all in) ...OH!... oh...you...have...had...breast cancer? (and she turns to me)

me: (sighs with relief) Yes. And no, you do not need get me appointments for my mammograms. I have that all taken care of. And my oncologist keeps in touch with this doc. So how's about you take my blood pressure and we get this show on the road?

So there's that.

However, I also feel I have a few other layers to add on to it. In fact, a couple weeks ago, I was literally sitting in my office at work, choking back tears of guilt at the thought of celebrating a birthday.

Why?-you might ask?

Well- let's start with the not so obvious: I feel guilty celebrating when the world is in a complete crapper right now, when I have a few friends who have no job, no expendable income to speak of, and no real miracle of relief around the corner. Darfur, Somalia, AIDS, women's rights in 3rd world countries around the world, animals being slaughtered left and right, dogs being murdered simply because they look like a certain breed or had the misfortune to have been raised by idiots. . .
And then of course there is the really obvious: I feel guilt for celebrating a birthday that many of my survivor sisters did not, or will not, live to realize. In fact, in the last year alone I lost 6 friends, the oldest of whom was 39. And currently, I have many who many not make it to this age, or much past it, and literally count the days they do enjoy on this planet.
And then there was this week. I, along with many of my YSC sisters, and her family and friends, buried a woman who was diagnosed also at 32, also in 2001, and who passed away on Friday, February 20th. In the months leading up to her passing I knew it was coming, and yet I pushed it away. Tracy Pleva Hill inspired me with her strength and spirit. And she inspired so many others as well. All she wanted to do was to dance at her son's wedding and this has been taken form her. One of the other YSC Board members said that she cannot imagine attending the upcoming conference without Tracy there. I can't either. As I sit here and type this, a little more than 24 hours after her funeral, I still can't think of her and not catch my breath. I can't think of her family and their pain and just make it want to stop . . .

This, I suppose, is the ultimate "survivors' guilt," eh?

Quite the contrary to all of this, nearly 8 years ago (it will be 8 years on April 12th, 2009) when I was diagnosed, I am quite certain I never thought I would reach 40. On the day I was crying in my office a friend tried to console me by saying that certainly any of my friends, alive or dead, would want me to celebrate and not waste tears on them. I know Tracy would definitely want me to do that. But it offers little solace. This doesn't lessen the guilt. This doesn't lessen the terrible aching in my heart. This doesn't make me want to celebrate any more. It just all seems wrong. My party should include them . . . not be held in spite of their loss . . .

It's not that I don't want to acknowledge my birthday. Brian has planned a small dinner with a few close friends, followed but what I am sure will be me getting quite drunk. But I do not feel comfortable with either a large celebration, nor especially with any sort of mocking of this age.

This age is not to be mocked. This life is not to be mocked.

This disease is certainly not to be mocked for it is too strong to underestimate.

For all my friends who will not celebrating a birthday this year. . . I will pour some scotch into the ground . . . Happy Birthday to you . . .

The 9th Annual Conference for Young Survivors!

I can't believe it has been 5 years since I first attended this conference!!
Brian and I, having never talked to another young woman living with this disease (other than my family friend Vicki Speakman!!) walked into a room full of over 450 other young women and their supporters just like us. It was so incredible, so powerful and overwhelming. We were still struggling to cope with being less than one year from our wedding, less than one year from my diagnosis, less than one year from the loss of my grandmother, less than one year from the loss of so much . . .
And also the begining of so much!
The conference is where I met Jill Hymer and we decided to form the Ohio Chapter of the Young Survival Coalition (which she now chairs!). The conference is where I first met all the amazing and engaging young women on the Board who founded this incredible organization - of which I am so honored and blessed to be Vice-President of! The conference is where I began to realize that some of the most powerful warriors in this battle aren't even survivors, but legislators, advocators, husbands, partners, lovers, family, and friends. The conference is what started it all!
This year, over 1,000 attendees are expected!!
If you know someone who was diagnosed with breast cancer at a young age, no matter her age now, I urge you to let her know about this amazing conference!! Attending solo is encouraged and rewarding! She will come away with powerful connections!
Also, make sure she knows about the Young Survival Coalition - the premier organization focused on the needs of young women with breast cancer.
And if you don't know anyone - consider making a small monetary donation -Scholarships for this year's conference are already depleted - perhaps you can help with next years?? $5 can pay for the cost of breakfast for a conference attendee!! at the YSC site!!
Peace in this new year!

Another great loss

This year has been a series of ups and downs. The downs have been devastatingly low.
Yesterday I was informed that a friend and fellow survivor, Heather Pick, had passed away at the tender age of 38 from metastatic breast cancer.
She had served on the inaugural Executive Council for the Central Ohio Chapter of the Young Survival Coalition. She served as our honorary co-chair for the first In Living Pink Fundraiser. I will never forget that she showed up without her wig (she almost never appeared in public without a wig) but had not brought her family members. "I didn't know family could come!" We were so amused by her humbleness. She did not want to participate with the YSC as a supportive person, rather she wanted to help us reach more young women through her media contacts and by providing us opportunities to get stories out about the YSC.
Heather als reported on innovative discoveries at Childrens Hospital and the Columbus Zoo. She also lent her beautiful voice a recording of music to benefit cancer research. She did so much in so short of a time.
The Columbus Dispatch did a nice write up today and I am sure there will be more to come. But I will leave you with these words of hers:

Don’t wait. Give someone an unexpected gift
just because you appreciate them.
Take your own loved ones
to a cherished community treasure
or try something completely new.

How old are you in survivor years?

I am preparing to participate in a few things over the next two weeks: participating on the 22nd in an Ohio for Obama cancer forum at OSU (not shure where yet!!) with sister-survivor Cynthia Nixon (yes - of Sex and the City!); appearing the next day on Gail Hogan's Columbus Daytime show to discuss breast cancer in young women; and then the following week traveling to Meigs County to do a presentation on intimacy after breast cancer.
As part of these talks, and in my bio, I always say that I am X number of years out. I find it fascinating how I (and many other survivors) tend to regress in maturity when it comes to telling our survivor years. My 'cancerversarry' is April 12th, 2001. So I am almost 8 years out. 7 years and 8 months to be exact. I would never say I am 7 years out now that I am so close to 8 years. I am 39 years old (ack!). But I would NEVER say I am 'almost 40' or 39 years and 7 months. Hells to the no!! I cling to that younger number with a viciousness found only in wild tigers! By the same token (or opposite token), I reach towards the "almost 8 years out" verbiage with vigor! I know, in my heart, that it doesn't really matter. That I could be 20 years out (my lips to God's ears!) and be diagnosed with a new breast cancer, or a metastic lesion...or worse. I know that in reality the further I get away from my original diagnosis I am not moving closer to a cure. Rather it is more likely that I am moving closer to my next diagnosis.

It's that time again....

As I wrote in a prior post, I have a love-hate relationship with October. Right now - I love it. Wait until the end of October - and I will be oh-so-over it!

The YSC has several things happening . . . right now. . . as I write this . . . staff, Board members, survivors, and supporters are leaving Hershey, PA on the first day of three for the Hershey's Tour de Pink to benefit the YSC. You can follow their experiences here on the YSC pages. I expect next Monday they may show up on the morning news shows so tune in!This Saturday night I and several other YSC Central Ohio survivors and supporters will be attending Celebrate to benefit the Vicki Speakman Memorial Fund. The Fund has provided travel scholarships for 4 years and running for area survivors to attend the annual Conference for Young Women Affected By Breast Cancer. The Conference is an amazing experience is invaluable and uber-empowering for a young survivor. As I have always said about it - when you have never seen another young woman with breast cancer. . . to walk into a room with close to a thousand other faces just like yours is awe-inspiring!! Miguel Perez runs the Fund - Miguel is going to have be the subject on an entire post!! - and is a good friend to my family as well as the YSC.

Friday, October 10th, YSC Central Ohio will be holding their annual fundraiser - In Living Pink and tickets are still available. This fun event will raise money for valuable programs and services in the Central Ohio area for young women with breast cancer. Brian and me are major sponsors and several family members will be attending.

The week of October 20th, I will be appearing on Daytime Columbus, hosted by Gail Hogan, to discuss breast cancer in young women. Details are still being finalized. And on October 29th I will be traveling to Meigs County to talk about intimacy after breast cancer to a group of fellow survivors - I am always so thankful for the opportunity to connect to my sisters!So far that is it but I am sure there will be more! I didn't even talk about the movie, Living Proof, appearing on Lifetime television on October 18th, which will show the discovery and initial testing of the powerful drug Herceptin. I am thinking of trying to organize a party to watch it . . .

I can't have cancer - I just got my Facebook account!

I was diagnosed with cancer at a young age, 32, and at the time I was a complete and utter anomaly. I am happy to say that although cancer (esp. breast cancer) is still relatively rare in young people, there has been an amazing movement towards recognition of young cancer survivors having a different experience than that of their "normal age for diagnosis" peers. I am also incredibly proud to be someone that participates in that movement, and even more proud of the fact that the Young Survival Coalition (YSC) directly impacted the push for this movement.

Now that I am getting, um . . .slightly on in years I am able to really appreciate what those who are coming after me (i.e. young cancer survivors being diagnosed now) are doing with their energy and passion. One of these people is Heidi Adams - advocacy co-chair of the LIVESTRONG Young Adult Alliance, and founder and executive director of Planet Cancer, a non-profit dedicated to creating a community of young adults with cancer. Heidi is also a 13-year survivor of Ewing's sarcoma and now is the ripe old age of 39 (um - yeah - that is also how old I am!!).

She has written an excellent op-ed piece on the Stand Up 2 Cancer site. In it she describes this experience of being diagnosed young . . . "To put it simply, young adults like me with cancer have fallen through the cracks on every front: scientific, emotional, clinical and financial.
In Dr. Jerome Groopman’s new book, How Doctors Think, he discusses the following mantra, frequently relayed in medical school: “When you hear hoofbeats, look for horses, not zebras.” Well, that’s fine. Unless you’re the zebra.
For starters, to identify the zebra you have to acknowledge that it is, in fact, different from a horse. And in many ways the unique aspects of young adulthood are as obvious as those black-and-white stripes: from emotional needs, developmental stages and biologic differences, to age-specific issues related to access and delivery of care. "

Something I am always asked about is what it is like to go through this . . . and I try to explain that it is nearly impossible to adequately capture how hard it was. As a young person you simply do not have the tools in your coping toolbox. You probably have not had to deal with a major traumatic event, you probably have not had to deal with a major illness, your significant other has probably not had to deal with a close family member beaing incredibly ill . . . you just lack all these very necessary life skills that would otherwise serve to guide you through your daily movements.

And yet - somehow you get through it. You get up every day, you go to treatment, you may go to work . . . hell you even go to the grocery store (you just forget why you went - but that is a subject for another post!). You go on! And at the end you may look back and be a little amazed at yourself.

And you might choose to get involved in all the various activities supporting others like yourself, or raising money for research or programs . . .