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!

Taking inventory…

The last four months cancer has had its fun . . . wreaking havoc on those in my life:

A close friend, living with metastatic breast cancer, lost her husband in the line of duty.
A close friend was given the news that her sister was diagnose with a rare form of untreatable adenoid carcinoma with a very low survival rate.
Another friend, also living with metastatic breast cancer, has been fighting for her life on a respirator.
Another friend, whose sister is in treatment, was given word that her suspicious biopsy is almost certainly cancer.
Yet another friend, who was only diagnosed with metastatic disease a few years ago, has had her whole treatment plan yet again changed.
Still another friend, also with metastatic breast cancer, who I had known “virtually” for some time, but only met in person this summer, passed away the morning after being told she had 3 months to live…

All of these friends are so young…all either under 40 now or when they were first diagnosed…

But there are other signs that cancer cannot touch everything in us.
There are signs that it cannot seep into our very pores and poison our souls…

One sister survivor was recently given the news that she is not showing any evidence of the disease that has been residing in her body for years.
Another friend is nurturing a pregnancy conceived after chemo, without ovaries!
Still another friend ~ not a survivor but a warrior as she is a breast surgeon! ~ not only finally brought home her beautiful adopted son but is now also expecting!
And that friend fighting for her life on a respirator?…she is opening her eyes and fighting her way back to us!
And the girl who was given her suspicious biopsy results?...she is going to fight like hell because she will not be alone!

So fuck off cancer . . . you picked the wrong people to mess with!