Emilie's Cancer Journey: Posts http://www.emiliescancerjourney.com/emiliescancerjourneyblog/Lists/Posts/AllPosts.aspx RSS feed for the Posts list. Thu, 29 Jul 2010 12:46:43 GMT Windows SharePoint Services V3 RSS Generator 60 Emilie's Cancer Journey: Posts /emiliescancerjourneyblog/_layouts/images/homepage.gif http://www.emiliescancerjourney.com/emiliescancerjourneyblog/Lists/Posts/AllPosts.aspx My Blog Ends But My Journey Continues http://www.emiliescancerjourney.com/emiliescancerjourneyblog/Lists/Posts/ViewPost.aspx?ID=29 Body:
Months ago when I was first approached about writing a blog I was rather resistant to the idea. My husband, Mike, encouraged me to do it telling me that it might help someone. I reluctantly agreed to do it with that in mind – if I could help one person in some small way, then I would do it.

Though you may find this hard to believe I am a rather private, reserved person. However, having breast cancer somehow made me feel that privacy wasn’t an option since I was going to be out of work for my surgery, I was going to have chemo and I was going to lose my hair. I was very open about my journey right from the start with my friends, family and coworkers. So I went into writing this blog with an open mind and an open heart.

Remembering that I wanted to somehow help someone in some small way now makes me smile. The feedback I have received from so many of you has truly been humbling. At times, writing the blog brought me to tears. To write about getting diagnosed with breast cancer was difficult all over again. But then it was OK because someone e-mailed me to tell me that reading my story gave her the push she needed to schedule her mammogram.

I’ve had wonderful support from my husband, Mike, and my children. My journey and life was made so much easier with their love and support.  They gave me the determination I needed to fight as hard as I could. And Trish has become someone who entered my life that I wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for my breast cancer.  She gave me the push and encouragement I needed to plow forward and achieve my goals.
 
Through the last months, I shared my journey of recovery, my fears, my triumphs and introduced you to my family. But what makes me smile now is that, though I wanted to help others somehow, I found that this all helped me! I found writing therapeutic and hearing from all of you carried me through some bumps along my journey.
 
I thought that writing a blog would be very “one directional," but I heard from so many of you. You left comments on the blog, e-mailed me or stopped to talk to me. I heard your stories, your suggestions, your ideas, your energy and your prayers. I heard them and I felt them. 
 
This is my last blog entry. I accomplished running the Race for the Cure on June 5, a goal I wrote about from the beginning of the blog. Though this is my last blog entry about that portion of my journey, my journey is not over. It will continue for years - shared by so, so many women already. Unfortunately, it will be a journey one in eight women will embark on in years to come. I started my own journey on June 26, 2009 when I was diagnosed. It's almost a year and I don't know what I'll do on this anniversary. I don't know how to feel about it. But nearly a year later, I am still standing. I am a survivor. I am surviving.

So, in parting, I have only two final things to say. First, please schedule your mammograms. And second, thank you for walking alongside me on my journey.

Published: 6/14/2010 9:16 AM
Archive: No
mm-yy: June- 2010
]]> Kee, Lorraine Thu, 10 Jun 2010 10:32:38 GMT http://www.emiliescancerjourney.com/emiliescancerjourneyblog/Lists/Posts/ViewPost.aspx?ID=29 I Ran. I Walked. We Did It! http://www.emiliescancerjourney.com/emiliescancerjourneyblog/Lists/Posts/ViewPost.aspx?ID=28 Body:

June 5 race starting line

View Photos...or Photo Slideshow from race

June 5th. I woke up this morning and it was still dark – today was the day for the Race for the Cure.  This is what I’ve been working and waiting for. My husband, Mike, and 7-year-old son, Mikey, wouldn’t be at the Race with me. Mikey’s last flag football game was at the same time. I asked him where he would prefer to be. He wanted to be at football because “I need to be with my team." I’m proud of his comment and commitment. We try to instill the spirit of team and camaraderie in our children and at 7 years old he “gets it."  He also understands that as our St. Mary's team captain, I needed to be there for my team and for the commitment I made to myself months ago.

In the kitchen I applied a pink ribbon tattoo on my right hand. I then went and sat at my son’s bed and applied another on his right hand. I woke him up slightly, and the first thing he said to me was, “Good luck on your run, Mama.” He hugged and kissed me as he fell back to sleep.

Fast forward to the Race.  The day was beautiful, cool, slightly overcast and just perfect.

I’ve heard that there are thousands of participants at the race. I never imagined what I saw. Through it all, I saw old friends and so many of my new friends. Jane (who took notes for me when I had my doctor's appointments) was there, several ladies from the retreat, a woman from my gym, my dear friends from work. So many survivors and supporters.   My team consists of nearly 70 participants.

There were so many people that it took quite a bit of time just to get the runners started at the start line. And I started. I ran through the streets, with so many others. I ran. I walked. Residents that lived along our race path waved to us from their porches, their driveways and front lawns.  Some tied pink ribbons on their trees. Some had boom boxes.  (I think I heard the Rocky movie theme!) There were cheerleaders cheering us all on.

I ran. I walked. But I ran more than I walked. I ran and saw the 1-mile marker. Only one mile? I thought the 1-mile mark was the water station I passed several minutes ago. Oh. But I kept running. As Trish-my-trainer had told me before - one foot in front of the other. My oldest son, Russ, ran on ahead (the skinny kid). 
 
At mile marker 3, I knew I was almost there. Someone from the sidelines yelled, “You’re almost there!” I was and I did it.  I crossed the finish line. There is a special section for survivors to cross.  I received a pink carnation and a survivor medal. I did it. I did it for me and for my team of survivors and supporters. I get it too.

Me, after crossing the finish line.
(Go to Archives to follow Emilie's journey and posts from February, March and April 2010.)

Published: 6/5/2010 1:11 PM
Archive: No
mm-yy: June- 2010
]]> Kee, Lorraine Sat, 05 Jun 2010 17:32:37 GMT http://www.emiliescancerjourney.com/emiliescancerjourneyblog/Lists/Posts/ViewPost.aspx?ID=28