Chemo, Day 1

May 2018: May 1st. I did it. Day one of chemo is behind me. It kicked my ass, but I kicked harder. Man, it is brutally hard and it is painful. I stayed focused and now I’m stronger.
I wanted to feel every ounce of it.
The nurse said even if I fight it, the Benadryl will win. It didn’t, I won. My cold capper said she has never seen someone keep their toes and hands on the ice bags the entire hour needed for one of the chemo drugs. Now she has.
13 rounds of painful football helmet looking ice caps at -22 degrees Fahrenheit over 7 hours. Yes, negative 22 degrees. I was surprised too.
At the end of the day she gave me an A+ for endurance 😏
I learned this whole thing is a game of stamina. I felt firsthand how much stronger your mind is than your body. You can tell it who’s boss and it will stand tall and listen.
My whole life I found peace, comfort and solitude in silence. I’m comfortable there. It’s where I find my mind over matter. I meditated, breathed (Wim Hof style) and found my strength within. All my work thus far was preparing me for this. That is so clear.
In addition to the ground shaking support I’ve received from friends and family all over the world, I was overwhelmed by everything that happened today. The continued and unwavering support of my mom and Michael by my side at all times, my brother’s presence and his ability to constantly make me laugh, my Silhouette Group loves of my life moving mountains and taking charge, a guided meditation kicked off my day, a delicious vegan dinner by my best friend Sara, and the best part... she coordinated a surprise send off party outside my apartment and a surprise welcome party at the hospital. I’m so touched and so blessed to have all of these people in my life. Thank you doesn’t seem fitting for all of this. You guys give me life. During the treatment itself I thought I would have all of this time to socialize and interact with people. I didn’t. It was game on. Head down. I had to go deep within myself and block out everything else around me 100%. Today was tough and I’ve been told this week is going to get even worse. I’m stronger now and I’m ready for whatever is next. 1 down, 11 to go 💛

Chemo, Round 3

May 2018: It’s 3am and these steroids from Round 3 of chemo today won’t let me sleep. My mind is going a million miles per hour and nothing is working to slow it down. I even tried the big no-no, Googling. Just to check if they happened to update the odds of beating this & average life expectancy of my type of cancer in the past 3 weeks. Not that I’m worried about the grim statistic of surviving the next few years. I already know they aren’t my odds. This is my story. So I decided to get up to write, and have a green juice of course :) “Knock me down. My favorite part is the climb back up.” -cwpoet
Today marks me at 25% to my chemo finish line. I’ve decided this is living. This is fighting.
Last week took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting it to be harder than the first. Some of these drugs have a half life of 28 days, so my levels keep increasing and these side effects that kick in during the week are no joke. You really see what kind of fight you’re made of. What you can really endure. I fight. Hard. Come Monday I’m ready to get my head in the right place for Tuesday’s chemo and the days that follow.
I’ve had times of vulnerability. I’ve broken down. A few times alone and a few times in my mom’s arms. She reminds me I can cry. I’ve hit walls pretty hard. I sat on my bathroom floor for hours while my mom gave me a pep talk until I felt strong enough to shower. I’ve had big ambitions of going outside, only to get dressed, hit a wall and had to sleep for hours to have the strength to sit in the living room for the rest of the day. And most recently, looking in the mirror watching my body retaliate to all of it.
I learned that my body talks to me loud and clear. It screams the good and the bad. I get these small bursts of energy, which I can only attribute to my strict diet & my body calling BS. I take that time to do something good for myself - walk outside, workout, juicing or cooking, writing. These little moments are far and few between, but they act as reminders of life on the other side of this. The brightest lining of all is spending time with family & friends.
One thing is for sure. I am determined to make this year my best year yet, and I’m getting closer each day. 3 down. 9 to go.

Chemo, Round 7

June 2018: I can’t believe it has been 4 weeks since I’ve written an update. I’ve been writing a lot and so much has happened. I didn’t feel like I could post at the halfway mark, I needed one more under my belt. Today, with 5 more left, I had the best treatment yet. I came in with a smile and left with one. Do I dare say it was easy? I’ve conditioned myself mentally and physically and I’m getting stronger.
I’ve had some of the hardest post chemo days these past weeks. My side effects have become my new norm for the time being making them as bearable as possible. On the days I can get out of bed, I have a few good hours and continue to make the most out of them. Pushing myself to enjoy each hour that my body will allow to the fullest before inevitably crashing.
I spent the last two weeks at home in Miami. What a game changer. My family, the ocean, the sun, the stars, the rain, the freedom to be outside. A therapeutic recharge.

I talked my doctor into moving up my scans 3 weeks early since I’m doing so well - I can’t feel the tumors anymore. I’m determined and my focus is fortified.
P.T. Barnum said, “No one ever made a difference by being like everyone else.” I love being unexpected… and this is just a layer of icing in the cake called life. I am the exception and I will beat this.
7 down. 5 to go.

July

Aug 2018: Oh, July. You’ve been a challenge in every aspect of my life. And although I wouldn’t change a single second of it, I am happy to see August. Transformations are hard work and messy, and I’m in the middle of a big one. An awakening. I have more clarity into myself now more than ever and that feels really good.
As I’ve done with healing thus far, I put every bit of me into every meaningful thing I believe in. Since I can remember, that’s how I’ve lived my life and how I’ve been the most fulfilled version of me.
I set a goal of healing myself of stage 4 cancer by week 8. This consisted of a full blown lifestyle change and my full focus into my diet, mental state, exercise and treatment, which have all gotten me to where I am now.
I spent weeks convincing my dr to move up both my CT and PET scans telling him the cancer was gone. I think he finds me funny. I bring comedic relief to his day. By the end of our appointments he’s usually put his no nonsense demeanour aside and allows himself to laugh and smile. At me or with me? I’m not so sure. To my surprise, he finally agreed.
Before meeting with my dr, I received incorrect preliminary scan results that the cancer in my breast was resolved and the cancer in my sternum was not, and got so down on myself that my intuition was wrong. I meditated on it. Hard. I walked into my week 10 appointment saying they are going to tell me they had it all wrong. It turns out I was right. I am in radiological remission. My case is very rare and the dr called it “unbelievable” and ‘totally spectacular.” He says we are going for a cure. After learning that my cancer is currently incurable, that felt really good.
A board of oncologists, scientists, radiologists and surgeons met to discuss my case, and decided to add an additional 12 chemos through the last Tuesday of October. Followed by surgery and possibly some radiation in November. All this to make sure they got every single cancer cell floating around in my body. Come the beginning of December, they said I’ll be able to go back to my everyday life and begin maintenance of immunotherapy infusions and hormone blockers.

Talk about getting knocked off your feet. I was under the impression that remission was the end game. Remission = back to life as normal. I learned that I was terribly mistaken. When I asked my dr what happens to the patients in remission that shorten or stop treatment, he said 100% of patients have the cancer come back in cases like mine. That hit me, hard.

I am grateful to have the leading dr in my type of aggressive cancer on my team. He’s cutting edge, thinks bigger, is stubborn like me and reaches for the impossible. I do want to see a world where doctors and patients embrace intelligent medicine as well as real impactful healthy lifestyle practices. Where everything isn’t just treated with more medication. Even with my amazing team, I don’t see enough emphasis on a balanced approach to healing. Disease and even general health isn’t an either–or situation. I plan to be a bridge between the two and hope to encourage others to do the same through their own stories.
I’ve wrapped my head around a few things these past few weeks. I am a lion. I need to acknowledge my resilience and the hard work it took to get here. I need to accept where I am right now, rest and recover, and stay fully focused on continuing healing these next few months.
And as for getting back to regular life. It all looks different to me now. Life is now and I’m going to live it, as my truest self, like my life depends on it.

Surgery

Oct 2018: Today is surgery day. In just a few short hours actually. It’s 3am and I’m wide awake, full of nerves with no sleep in sight.
I’ve gotten some pretty exciting news over the past month. 1. Negative PET/CT and MRI scans showing no evidence of disease. 2. I was able to cut down chemo by a month. 3. The dr deemed the surgery to remove a part of my sternum unnecessary given my results.
All the hard work has paid off. I’ve witnessed the magnitude of human decision and determination. And I’ve embraced it. Although we have fragile bodies, we have warrior souls.
Now with stage 4, the battle doesn’t end there. I’m heading into part 2 today, surgery. I’ve been spending my time healing and rebuilding. Fueled by the support of my family and friends, and focused like the inner warrior that I’ve come to know so well.
This journey has given me more than it’s taken. I’ve transformed this battle into a lesson of life and love, because life is too short to have it any other way. Shoot for the stars and live for today.
Part 2, I’m finally ready for you. Let’s do this.

Radiation

Dec 2018: I’m over half way! Today was radiation # 14 of 25. The fatigue is pretty incredible. Worse than chemo. It’s so unlike me that it’s been difficult to accept. And it’s only getting worse. The daily workouts keep me sane. Some of you have asked me how it works. Well, there aren’t any rules to it. I have to workout daily to block some pretty serious side effects from happening and it helps battle the fatigue. I thought I’d make a little campaign out of it throughout my radiation treatment, which ends December 28th. This way, I’d be held accountable while spreading cancer awareness. Seeing all of the support has really meant so much to me and gives me the encouragement to keep going. Here’s how it works. Post a photo of your workout, one day, everyday, whatever you want. It can be anything, a hike, at the gym, a class - with #cancerawareness. Some friends have added #fuckcancer, because well... Fuck cancer!
2.5 more weeks to go 👊🏼

SG Holiday Party

Dec 2018: SG Holiday Party ✨
Something so unexpectedly mind blowing and magical happened. Lori, Brielle, Reagan and Raquel, along with the rest of our team, put together an hour long video of our incredible clients, colleagues and partners sending their wishes for my last week of radiation. We watched the most beautiful, heart warming, funny and sweet messages from all over the world. I’m still in awe of it all and so touched. Thank you to everyone who sent a video. My heart is so full. And thank you to SG for the most amazing gift. Your love, support and drive these past months have blown me away. I love you all so much! #silhouettegroup

Check out the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LbZlEOG9VEA&feature=youtu.be

Radiation Complete

Radiation # 25 of 25 ✔️ 🔔 🔔 🔔 ... And I am on my way.

A year in review

April 2019: I beat stage 4 bone and breast cancer. I haven’t said that out loud yet. A year ago today I was diagnosed, and Tuesday is my last infusion. This year has been a wild ride... 6 months of weekly hardcore chemotherapy, a partial double mastectomy and reconstruction surgery, 5 weeks of daily radiation, a year of bio therapy infusions, 144 hours of -22 degree cold capping, over 250 doctors appointments and 36 hours of soaking my hands and feet in ice buckets. I decided from day 1 that I needed to own every part of this. Feel it all completely. Looking back today on what I survived, it stops me in my tracks. I lived it. Hard. I didn’t give myself a choice and I wasn’t afraid of death. I went after life headfirst and I’ll continue to live that way. I’m beyond grateful for this journey, it didn’t make me stronger, it showed me what I’m made of and the strength that lived within me. The power of the human body, mind and spirit is incredible. When you get them all to work together anything is possible and magic happens. I see life, love and myself more clearly now, and what it means to really live. My family and friends have blown me away with their depth of love and support and I love them so much harder than before. I’ve gone through a transformation and wake up everyday with the biggest smile feeling a new sense of freedom and life just amazes me.