BuiltaLife

Offering hope to those on the path behind me

Tag: #mbc (Page 2 of 3)

A Broken Femur is No Joke – 4/1/22 Update

04/01/2022 / / 2 Comments

Just a quick word of advice: Don’t break your femur.

Really. It is a long recovery. And frankly, I’m tired of it.

Kim sitting on couch in waiting room with leg on ottoman
Waiting to see the doctor in the fancy “waiting room”
Photo credit: Jennifer R

Today I saw my orthopedist again. And while the news really wasn’t bad, I left a little discouraged. I’m ready to put this behind me and move forward. Even if it meant another surgery, I was mentally prepared for that because I have that much trust in my surgeon and I know that I have recovered from worse. If having a small setback (like surgery to replace the hip and knee) in order to get me to where I want to be is what it takes, I was ready to go all in.

But that is not the direction the appointment took today.

Honestly, again, the news wasn’t bad. After looking at the X-rays he said there was some improvement in the bone calcification. We discussed how much weight I was putting on my left leg (we even measured it on the scale in the office) and tested my flexion (he gave me 80 degrees which is better than the 70 last time – so yes, I have been doing my exercises).

Break here for laughter: When the PA asked if that was all, the doctor, sitting on his rolling stool with his legs spread, said he could probably get it to 90 and I looked him dead in the eye and I said “you might be able to but I would probably kick you and you are not in a good position for that.” We all laughed and he rolled his stool back quickly.

When I mentioned the numbness that sometimes wakes me up at night the doctor suggested we get a total bone scan. I mentioned I had one scheduled for the end of April, but we are now pushing that up. And, just for good measure, they are throwing in an MRI to make sure there is nothing else that could be causing the numbness.

After I asked about PT, he somewhat grudgingly (in my opinion) agreed to let me start with strict instructions not to put more than 50 lbs of weight on my leg. Additionally, I asked about using forearm crutches, as the walker is really starting to get old. Short answer: No. Longer answer: Maybe in 2 more months (long answer as in time, not really a long answer)

I’m happy I am finally going to start PT. At least it will feel like I’m doing something towards moving forward. The past 4 months of being a couch potato and not being able to do much has been hard for someone who doesn’t like to just sit around (not having a hip didn’t even slow me down this much – I was working on using a cane in March after a December surgery).

March 1, 2018 – 1st time walking with a cane after hip was surgically removed in December 2017

Obviously I’m not going to be running any marathons or even a 5K anytime soon, but honestly, I wasn’t doing that before I broke my femur – but I do miss taking Guin to the lake and walking the trails. And I think she misses the outdoor excursions, too.

I have 2 months before I go back (unless something weird shows up on the bone scan or MRI). Hoping there will be even more bone healing in that time, especially with the weight-bearing and PT.

After 2 surgeries and a few setbacks with cancer, you might think I would be used to this “hurry up and wait” scenario.

KIm and Guin after a walk around the Lake (2021)

However, when you are living every day to stay ahead of metastatic breast cancer, it is tough to not be able to do things like walk the dog.

55 and Fabulous
When you Celebrate 55 at Topgolf and you score your age

Grief’s Most Precious Gift and Other things I’ve learned

07/22/2021 / / 9 Comments

Grief – it doesn’t ever go away. Five years ago this week my dad and my husband died 4 days apart. A little of me died that week as well. It is gut-wrenching to lose one of the male figures in your life, but to lose them both within 4 days was rough .

Earlier this week I read a blog post from Nancy’s Point titled What do you do with grief at five (or more) years out?.

Grief was not something I read about until I had to face it on my own. I never understood it. And honestly, it is one of those concepts that you can never truly understand until you are thrust into it (much like having cancer, but that’s another story).

I am blessed in that I was a grown adult before my grandparents died. In fact, I was married with kids of my own when 3 of 4 of them died (my maternal grandfather died before I was born).

When my dad and my husband died I realized I didn’t know how to process grief. And 5 years later I’m not sure if I’m any better at it.

When two deaths come so closely together, it may be referred to as compound grief. In short, compounded grief, also known as cumulative grief, is a pile-on effect of grief or “grief overload.” It may mean losing several loved ones in a short period of time (https://www.funeralbasics.org/what-is-compounded-grief/)

Compound grief can also represent when many losses pile up over time.

To add to the compound grief of 2 losses in a short period of time, my youngest daughter left for college less than a month later. You can see why some of my friends recommended I see a therapist.

Then there is the other elephant in the grief room…I have been living with metastatic breast cancer since October 2010. I never realized, until therapy, that I should have been dealing with grief related to all of the losses that come as a result of a terminal cancer diagnosis. [To understand more about these losses, you might want to read what my Twitter friend Abigail discusses in her blog titled “Little Deaths”]

Instead of facing the grief, I trudged on. For almost 6 years. I didn’t know how to process those losses and I probably made relationships more difficult than they had to be. But I digress.

Although I didn’t see that therapist long, I did learn I was handling my grief in an acceptable manner (ie I learned that everyone grieves differently and there is no right or wrong way to grieve).

This week, as I thought about the past 5 years, I wrote a list of all the ups and downs.

When I started listing everything I expected tears, as all of these things happened without my husband by my side (the good and the bad). But the tears didn’t come. Instead, there were some smiles as I reminisced about things I had forgotten. And I shook my head as I thought about more things I have overcome.

The UPs and DOWNs since July 24th, 2016:

  • My youngest started college – Aug 2016
  • I signed a contract to begin building a new home – Aug 2016
  • A friend unexpectedly passed away – Sept 2016
  • The friend’s funeral was held on my husband’s birthday, a day we had originally set aside to spread his ashes – Oct 2016
  • Spent our first Christmas in New York with my brother – Dec 2016
  • Buried my dad at Arlington National Cemetary – Dec 2016
  • My new house was completed and I moved in – March 2017 (March 6th was our wedding anniversary, I’ve always considered my house as a final anniversary present).
  • My oldest graduated from TCU (my alma mater)- May 2017
  • Took my daughters on our first (and maybe last) cruise to celebrate graduation and surviving the past year – May 2017
  • My daughters went to Malawi on a Mission trip with drops of grace – July 2017
  • My oldest daughter started grad school at Angelo State (my husband’s alma mater) – Aug 2017
  • Spent 10 days in the hospital due to my hip developing an infection, surgery to remove all the hardware – Dec 2017
  • 40 days of high dose antibiotics to rid my body of infection and LOTS of Physical therapy – January and onward 2018
  • Drove to the Outer Banks (OBX), North Carolina to “help” my brother get his new house ready for rentals – July 2018
  • My nephew got married – September 2018
  • Threw axes, flew a plane and got my first tattoo all to celebrate my husband’s birthday – Oct 2018
  • Participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and wrote more than 50,000 words on a book (one I’m still working on) – Nov 2018
  • My oldest got a dog (cutest little corgi, australian shepherd mix ever) – Dec 2018
  • My mom finally (at age 79) officially retired – Jan 2019
  • I attendended my step brother’s wedding in the same chapel we had my dad’s funeral – Mar 2019
  • I strutted down a runway in a bra to raise money for the BCRC – June 2019
  • Slight progression with a new Met to my spine, necessitating a biopsy and radiation – June 2019
  • My youngest went to Malawi for a second time with the drops gang – July 2019
  • Took my mom to my brother’s house in OBX – July 2019
  • Stand up paddle boarding – no hip and all – Aug 2019
  • My oldest graduated from grad school and moved to South Carolina to start her first job – Aug 2019
  • Another scare of mets to spine, but turned out to be a herniated disc – YEAH!?! – Aug 2019
  • Went on a Casting for Recovery retreat and learned how to fly fish – Nov 2019
  • Got my dog, Guin – Nov 2019
  • More mets showed up on scan, time to say goodbye to meds that had kept me stable for 7 years – Nov 2019
  • My step-brother and his wife had their first baby – Nov 2019
  • My youngest finished college (in 3 1/2 years, might I add) – Dec 2019
  • Graduation party for youngest (who knew that would be the last big party for the foreseeable future?) – Feb 2020
  • A Pandemic shut down the world – March 2020
  • Started working out with Camp Gladiator (CG) vitrually – May 2020
  • My youngest finally walked the stage to get her diploma (watched it virtually, thanks pandemic) – Aug 2020
  • More paddle boarding (thanks CG for building my strength) – Aug 2020
  • My nephew and his wife welcomed their first baby – Oct 2020
  • A trip to Lost Maples for my husband’s birthday – Oct 2020
  • Annual trip to OBX – October 2020 (this may be my new favorite time to go to the beach)
  • My youngest moved home – Jan 2021
  • Snow in Texas – Jan 2021
  • Snowpocalypse, including 3 days of no electricity and a record breaking number of days below freezing – Feb 2021
  • My first skydiving event – Mar 2021
  • My step-brother and his wife welcomed baby #2 – May 2021
  • I celebrated 55. – July 2021
  • Art Bra Greek Goddess
    Wearing a bra on a runway was definitely out of my comfort zone
  • Rediscovering my sense of Adventure
  • Stand Up Paddle Boarding in 2019
  • Skydiving on our Wedding Anniversary
  • Another Birthday – Celebrate!
Just a few pictures capturing the moments of the past 5 years

What do the next 5 years hold? Who knows! I have learned I can’t predict the future, but at least I know what I have learned from the past 5 years:

  1. Life goes on. Whether you want it to or not. My daughter left for college and I signed a contract to build a new house within one month of my husband’s death. The sun came out and the moon rose each day. Some days I wanted to yell and scream at the fact that the world did not stop and give me time to process everything that had happened. But instead, I had to learn to process it as the pages on the calendar continued to turn.
  2. I’ve said it before and I will say it until my last breath. I have some of the most amazing people in my life. Friends CAN help you get through the toughest times. I have friends that will allow me to be myself – even if that means that 5 years later I still get emotional (which happens and is OK). I 100% recommneding finding friends who allow you to be yourself – even at your worst.
  3. The old adage “You are stronger than you think” is true. I just wish sometimes I didn’t have to be the poster child for it.
  4. In the beginning, when people told me “you will get through this and even smile again” I wanted to punch them in the face (thankfully I had access to a punching bag and hit the bag instead). How dare they say I will smile again. But, I discovered that you can find joy even when you are grieving. And at some point (everyone is different) you will discover that even when you are grieving you find yourself laughing. And you realize they were right.
  5. I have done a lot in the last 5 years. It took me writing a list to realize just how much. But as I made the list, I discovered something unexpected. There are things on this list I probably would not have done if I hadn’t challenged myself to deal with grief and discover who I am without my husband. One of the most precious gifts of grief has been discovering myself – and knowing my husband is cheering for me to keep discovering.

Goodbye Ann…Another friend lost to Metastatic Breast Cancer

06/17/2020 / / 2 Comments
Beth, Cathy, Ann and KIm attending Art Bra Austin 2019
L to R: Beth, Cathy, Ann and, Kim at the BCRC Art Bra Austin 2019 Fundraiser

This week I learned a new term. Anticipatory Grief. You may have already determined that anticipatory grief occurs while a loved one is still alive, but their death is imminent. 

This would have been helpful information 4 years ago as we watched JR and my dad both slip away. It certainly helps me understand the anger I had during June and July 2016. 

I learned the term this week while attending an online Breast Cancer conference hosted by Living Beyond Breast Cancer. There was a session called “Coping with Collective Grief” and the speaker, Kelly Grosklags, spoke about this “new to me” term. 

It helped me understand my feelings this week (as well as those feelings from 4 years ago). You see, today we lost another to Metastatic Breast Cancer. A beautiful, fun, brilliant, witty woman gone too soon.

I met Ann while attending a support group for women with metastatic breast cancer at the Breast Cancer Resource Center.  She was everything I am not: outspoken and loud. Not in an obnoxious way.

She had a sharp wit and a sense of humor that you couldn’t help but love. After going to meetings for a few months I became friends with Ann, Beth, and Cathy. Sometimes we would go to lunch after a meeting, go out for drinks or just sit out on my patio and enjoy a beverage and snacks (pre-Covid). 

I loved talking with Ann, she had stories that could make your belly hurt from laughing. Or she could bring you to tears. 

We have known this day was coming ever since she decided her body was tired from treatments. But until last Tuesday I was still in denial. I had seen her a couple of times since March (on Zoom calls) and she was holding her own. 

But when the text came last week to come see her it seemed urgent. When we arrived she was in bed, no energy to get up and the spark in her eyes, while still there was just a little dimmer. 

Thankfully we were able to see her while she was still coherent enough to recognize us and even engage for a bit. And for that, I will be forever grateful. 

Having watched JR go through the process of dying, I knew when I left that her time here was short. And I was glad I had dropped what I was doing to go spend a few hours with Ann and my other “bosom buddies” Later that week we received an update on her caringbridge site that she was not receiving any more visitors and she was sleeping most of the time. 

This week I have been anxious every time I open my email. Anticipating the final journal entry. Today, it came.

You will be missed, Ann. I’m so glad I got to know you, even if it was through this damn thing we call metastatic breast cancer

Home Welcome Mat Overcoming Isolation

Cancer, Grief, and COVID19 – The Isolation Trifecta

04/07/2020 / / 4 Comments

Isolation. A feeling we most certainly can all understand in our current circumstance. #StayHomeStaySafe #CoronaVirus #COVID19

It seems every post on social media these days is a reminder of what is going on in the world. And rightfully so. Everyone is scared and feeling the walls closing in.

Cancer

When I was first diagnosed with cancer in 2003, I was not prepared for the feeling of isolation. Even when people were surrounding me, there was still that feeling of isolation. The words “you have cancer” floated around my brain constantly. And while others tried to share their own experiences with cancer, this new path was one I had to walk alone. Don’t get me wrong, my husband and many friends were there. But it felt like I was running a marathon by myself and they were all on the sidewalks, behind barricades cheering me on. The treatments were mine alone to bear.

In 2010, when I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, the feeling of isolation came back with a vengeance. This time the isolation was more tangible. I was unable to walk because of where the cancer had attacked. My husband would get me situated on the couch or in one of the recliners before he would leave for work. At lunch, either he would come or he would make arrangements for a friend or family member to come over and keep me company for a while. But then it was back to work. I was alone, while the kids were at school and he was at work, left to wonder what this new life was going to look like.

For me, metastatic cancer came with a new set of physical challenges. But also mental challenges. At home with nothing but time on my hands, I discovered the average life expectancy was 36 months after being diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer (thankfully I have far exceeded that life expectancy, but I had no way to know that at the time). Friends and family once again rallied around us, but the isolation sat heavy in my soul.

Grief

Similarly, when my father passed away and then four days later my husband passed away, I was surrounded by friends and family. There to lift me up, to give me a shoulder to cry on, or to make sure that I had food to eat. But again, it was the times in the middle of the night, when I was unable to sleep that I found so isolating. Even going out with friends was hard. Most of my friends are happily married. I never felt more isolated than going to dinner with a group of happily married couples when I was now a widow. I have gotten better at being in those situations, but there are still times when that pain of isolation will rise up and make me understand what I lost when I see the looks that pass between husbands and wives who have known each other for decades.

COVID 19 – The trifecta of Isolation

In some way, I feel like I have been in preparation for the isolation brought on by COVID. But, it is just a little different. This one is being felt by everyone in some way.

And yet, even this new circumstance brings about a different feeling about grief and isolation.

During each of the previous life events, there were people around me. Helping me. Comforting me. Bringing me meals, sitting with me at doctor’s appointments, in the hospital, at the funerals, driving me to appointments, cleaning my house. They were sharing in my isolation as much as I would allow.

COVID 19 has reignited the feeling of isolation that I have struggled to overcome in the last few years. The isolation and grief from a cancer diagnosis, to loss of my father and my husband.

I have discovered I have a love/hate relationship with social media. Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram are my connection to the outside world right now, however, the posts also remind me of the other things I have lost: my husband; my limited mobility (makes it really hard to do things I used to be able to do easily), even my healthy immune system.

Thanks to my metastatic cancer and a compromised immune system, I have not left my house, other than to take the dog for a walk or go to my oncologist appointment, since March 18th. Days upon days of no contact with friends and family except via phones/computers.

The physical isolation is hard. But the reminders of the emotional isolation of past experiences is like ripping a bandaid off a wound that hasn’t finished healing.

If you, like me, are feeling the isolation from cancer, grief, or COVID I have found the following help me get out of my isolation funk:

Papers burning in fire pit
After writing down the things causing anxiety, burn them and let them go
  • Keep a pen and paper or some kind of notebook on your nightstand. When I can’t sleep it is usually because I need to process what is going on, no better way to do that than to write it down.
    • If what you have written is something you don’t want others to read, I have also found that burning the pages in my fire pit is very therapeutic.
  • Go for a walk or run (I don’t run, but you might enjoy it)
  • Find a good exercise video or sign up with a virtual trainer (I just signed up with Camp Gladiator for a 6-week challenge – all classes are on Zoom). Sweating out the frustrations has always helped reset my mind.

What have you found to help you not feel so isolated?

Tell me something Good with confetti in background
Tell me something good

Good News – it needs to be shared not just during a pandemic

03/30/2020 / / 0 Comments

Tell me something good! (Who remembers Shaka Khan signing this? Because everyone has heard of Shaka Khan after Season 3 of The Masked Singer)

We seem to all be looking for the good news these days. If you don’t believe me, just ask John Krasinski. He made a video about “Some Good News” and he even speaks with his friend Steve Carell which made us all happy. If you haven’t seen the video, click here (I promise it is worth your time).

This week I also shared some of my own good news. And for those of you who follow me, yes, it has to do with my latest scan results.

I shared this post on my personal Facebook page.

Even though I shared this news during the #StayHomeStaySafe pandemic, I was still shocked at the number of likes and comments I received.

Granted, people are usually happy for me when I post good news about my scans. But this week I heard from people who I haven’t heard from in years even though we are friends on Facebook.

It doesn’t bother me that most people on my friend list don’t comment on my posts. I have close to 500 “Facebook friends”, but honestly I probably interact with about 75-80 regularly. I usually receive a lot of likes when I post good news regarding my cancer. But this time I got over 150 likes and about 50 or more comments.

After 9 plus years of living with metastatic cancer, I understand not everyone is as concerned as I am about my latest scans, especially since I get them every 3-4 months.

Since last June my two previous scans had both shown progression. The results from my latest scan showed some of the spots from the past 2 scans were actually smaller, which means the new medication is working. Yes, I am doing my own happy dance (I even pulled out Just Dance 2016 on Xbox to do some at-home exercise – whew, it’s a good thing no one is recording that).

I would postulate good news is not just what we need today, but we need to do a better job of celebrating good news on a daily basis. Now and going forward.

So tell me something good! I really do want to celebrate with you.

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