More Why's

I don't often use these words, but lately ...
I am mad.
I am angry.
I am sad.
I am scared.
I am devastated.
I am heart-broken.
And frankly just pissed-off.

At who or what,
I don't know.

And why?
I don't know that for sure either.

What I do know is that I am having more survivors guilt. 
And I hate that these things are happening to friends I care about.

I found out yesterday that my old high school seminary teacher and friend, Dave Thurston passed away. We have been in touch throughout the years, especially after I was diagnosed, and a few months ago he reached out to me.  He told me he had just been diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. It was very advanced.  The doctors were giving him 6 months. That was just over 2 months ago.  I will be forever grateful that my family and I were stuck in traffic on the freeway one weekend in December last year.    Trying to pass the time I was scrolling through Facebook and noticed that he posted a picture of miles of backed-up cars.  I showed it to Ryan and mentioned how it looked a lot like where we were.  Ryan decided to see if he could find the exact spot the picture was taken from by looking for the license plate and vehicle in the center of the picture.  Sure enough he found Bro T sitting in his big rig, stuck in traffic, too.  Ryan called me and I quickly ran back, just a few dozen cars, and hopped into his truck.  Call it fate or destiny, chance or luck - I will call it serendipitous. Dave and I were able to sit and talk for hours about the past, kids and all the crazy things going on in both our lives now.  I will always treasure this last visit and remember his warm smile and incredible laugh. Thanks for being such a great teacher and caring friend Brother Thurston. I will miss you.

Also-

Yesterday one of my friends, Ryan, from support group had a PET scan followed by an appointment with her oncologist.  Her cancer is back and it is in her lymph nodes and has spread to some of her bones.  She was diagnosed about 8 months before me.  Same type of cancer.  Now she is Stage IV.  She was the first "cancer friend" I met.  She helped me so much in the beginning when I was first diagnosed.  I would text her random questions about things I didn't know or understand and she would always have time to answer me and give invaluable advice.  She welcomed me into group and made me feel supported, loved and not so alone.  My heart aches that she has to go through it all over again; port surgery, heart scans, new doctors, new meds and chemotherapy!  This woman is an amazing mother and an incredible teacher and caring friend. She is funny and strong and compassionate and brave, and honestly  - cancer picked the wrong chick to mess with because she is going to kick its @$$!!!  I totally love and admire you Ryan.

My 15 Minutes of Fame

A few weeks ago I went a beam signing for the new cancer wing at the hospital. 

There I met a lady who worked for the 

Communications Department at IHC.  

She asked me if I would be willing to 

share my story for their newsletter.  

Well here it is  - my 15 minutes of fame.

 https://intermountainhealthcare.org/blogs/topics/transforming-healthcare/2017/10/my-breast-cancer-story-kimberly-rosenberg/

My Breast Cancer Story: Kimberly Rosenberg

It was a hot June day when 35-year-old Kimberly Rosenberg answered a call from her doctor. What she heard on the other end of the line changed her life forever: “The test came back positive. You have breast cancer, Kim.” 

Kimberly was 9 months pregnant when she was diagnosed

Are Yuiz.

“I don’t know what happened after that,” Kimberly says. “My mind just didn’t process it. I remember crying and that’s about it.”

Kimberly was a mom of three and nine months pregnant at the time of her diagnoses in 2014. While playing with her children one day, she was accidentally hit in the chest. She shrugged off the pain at first, but then worried when it wouldn’t go away.   

“I was feeling the area and found a lump,” she says. “I didn’t think too much of it. I thought it was just related to pregnancy and hormones. I had an OB appointment coming up, so I figured I’d just ask her. Everything kind of snowballed after that.”

After finding out the lump was indeed cancer, things happened quickly for Kimberly. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy three days after getting the call, and then treatments began two weeks after that at Intermountain Dixie Regional Medical Center. Kimberly’s life was then filled with chemotherapy, radiation and various surgeries — including a double mastectomy and hysterectomy.

“I had my biggest surgery in January 2017,” she says. “It’s called the DIEP flap. You spend a week in the hospital, and then it probably took about four months to recover. They basically cut you open from hip to hip and dissect your stomach — tissue, skin, fat, and muscles — and use this to do breast reconstruction. The surgery was a little over 10 hours. It’s a big surgery. Now I am doing fantastic, I had a surgery in July and hopefully my last one in December.”

Fighting cancer and raising a young family is not an easy task, but Kimberly found strength through her caregivers, loved ones — especially her husband and mother — and the friends she met in a local breast cancer support group.

“One of the best support systems for me was Jilynne Hafen, the social worker at Dixie Regional,” she says. “I have cried in her office more times than I can count. She’s got me through some really hard times. The support group is also invaluable to me. We’re always trying to find other women who are going through the same thing. We don’t want anyone to feel alone or confused.” 

When her treatments began, Kimberly received several care packages from loved ones full of treats, blankets, water bottles and other useful items. She said it’s the little things that mean the most, like even a quick text from a friend. “I love getting an occasional text, email or phone call that just says, ‘Hey, we’re thinking about you and hope you’re doing OK,’” Kimberly says. “That really gives me a push and motivation. It keeps me going.”

Kimberly is getting better and better every day, and she doesn’t let breast cancer define her. She enjoys spending time with her family in the great outdoors, and looks forward to skiing — both water and snow — again when she fully heals. “I’m excited to get back into skiing,” she says. “I’ve had to take a two-year hiatus. Maybe next year I can return to all the activities I love.” 

For information on breast cancer services at Dixie Regional, visit http://bit.ly/2xeSmGI.

Why

Cancer has taken another life.
Why?

This morning I found out a friend has passed away.
She was diagnosed a few months after me in 2014.
Except her cancer came back and spread to her brain.
Why?

She fought.  She fought hard.
I saw her in July at our monthly support group meeting.
She looked good, happy.
Except the experimental treatments were not working and
the side effects were too great, it was no longer worth it.
She decided to quit all treatments as of a few weeks ago.
Less than a month!
Why?

I hate cancer.

She was amazing.
She had one of the most positive attitudes of anyone I have ever met.
My heart aches for her family - her husband and four children.

Most days I do pretty good.
My last surgery went well and I feel well.
In fact on Sunday we went hiking all day at the Grand Canyon.

I can't say I don't think about cancer - it is alway there, always on my mind.
But days like today - it feels like I hit a wall.
It is all I can think about.
A flood of "why" questions surface,
and I don't have any answers.
Survivors guilt is a complex emotion,
and I haven't figured out how to navigate it yet.

Last month I met a new friend at support group.
She is awesome.
She posted this on facebook - so I stole it from her.
Her words are perfect.

"Finding joy in the journey involves talking about deep down honest truths. 
This journey has been filled with every emotion imaginable. 
I've had good days, sad days, scared days, great days, laughter days, 
mad days, funny days, mean days, painful days, gleeful days... 
cancer is every one of these. 
It tilts you and pushes you and just when you feel like 
you can't keep going - you do. You just do. You have to.

Your self image, self esteem and self worth are tested beyond comprehension. 
Cancer isn't glorious, beautiful, wonderful, magical, mystical, lovely... 
but the journey is. 
The people you meet are. 
The love that surrounds you is."

Cammi Higley 9.4.2017 #fightforcammi #pinkforcammi #itsgonnabeokay

Speeding By

Time is speeding by.

The kids start school next Monday!

I am excited, they are not.

Well maybe Alyssa.

Gage will be an only child for 2 hours and 35 minutes, 5 days a week.

Maybe I will get caught up on some things-

probably not.

I am doing pretty good.

Surgery went really well and healing has gone great.

I did not realize how involved the removal of the standing cones,

points on my hips, was going to be.

Between fixing those and part of the left breast,

I came out of surgery with 18 new inches of incisions.

And for the record - compression garments suck!

All of them.  

The one on my arm is tolerable, I have had a lot of swelling in my arm from surgery, 

travel, bug bites and a run in with a metal shed corner that scratched my upper arm.

Crazy how all those things can affect my arm so much.

I am also wearing one that goes from rib cage down to my calfs.

It is super awesome in this 100 degree summer heat.

Overall, I am still sore and tired.

Always tired.

I feel like it takes forever to regain any strength and energy.

Actually I still don't feel like I have any strength or energy since this all

started over 3 years ago.

My surgeon wants to do one more surgery closer to the end of the year,

I told him I would think about it.

Not sure if my body can take any more.

It would be great though - give everything a nice finished 

look with almost perfect symmetry.

I love my new nose - and I will love it even more when the 

rest of the swelling goes down over the next 3-6 month.  

Compared to what I remember of the issues and pain from 

breaking it 18 years ago, this time was a sinch.  

I feel a little sad that I have missed out on some fun things this summer - 

zip lining, water skiing and rappelling - 

But next summer, 

Will be awesome!

At Home

Sorry for the slow update but I wanted to let everyone know how I am doing.
I had to be at the hospital at 5:30 am on Wednesday.
They got me all checked in, blood drawn and IV in.
(The nurse had a little bit of a hard time getting the vein
so she kept fishing around and that was kinda painful.)
I got to the OR just before 8 am.
I believe the surgery was just over 4 hours.
The surgeries went great. Both doctors said it went just as planned.
I came out of anesthesia well, but they held me in the triage room
a little longer because my oxygen levels were somewhat low.
Ryan was right there when I got back to the recovery room.
I had some blaugh jello and then some yummy yogurt.

After some pain meds I starting feeling better.
I was released about 3 pm.
The meds started to make me feel drowsy,
so after I said Hi to the kids, I took a nap until 7 pm.
I ate a little dinner, talked to family and friends and
then started the process to get ready for bed.
Bandages, ointments and meds.
I have yet to see anything, other than a few bruises.
I am wrapped from my calves to my armpits.
and my nose has a lovely cast on it.
They have given me clearance to shower in a few days, yay.
I can't wait to see how everything turns out!

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

Ready for the 5th

Surgery is right around the corner - again.
And I am in a hurry-get-everything-ready mode.
House cleaned, menus made, groceries bought
and help lined up so I can just relax and take
a nap at any given moment, if I want.

This help is, of course, my wonderful mother and Annette, my sister in law.
Without them I honestly would not know how to handle most of the daily tasks.
They come to clean and play with kids and take care of me.
And I don't know how to thank them or repay them.

Each time I think this is the last surgery and I come to terms with it,
I find out that there might be another one in a few months after the doctors see
how things have settled.

It may seem like I enjoy surgeries, but I do not.
I accept them as part of what I need to do in order to regain my body
and come to terms with my new normal.
I feel I am getting closer, I think this could be my last one.
I finally believe there is a light at the end of this long, scary tunnel.
Each one has helped and taught me something about myself,
and those around me.

This should be a shorter surgery -
Somewhere between 3-5 hours.
I guess anything would be considered shorter compared to my last one of almost 10 hours.
It is also an out patient surgery.
This is what I would call a touch-up surgery.

They are removing my standing cones, yea that is the medical term.
Basically it is where they started my incisions during the last surgery and it made these funny points that stick out on my hips.
They are injecting some fat along my radiated side where there is a bunch of scar tissue that is hard, this fat should soften it.
They are also taking fat from my flanks and upper thighs to even out both my breasts and make them more symmetrical.

AND

I am having my nose fixed.
I am a little embarrassed to say I am having a cosmetic rhinoplasty
but I am extremely excited about it.
After I shattered my nose almost 20 years ago, I have hated it.
And I figure, hey why not - I feel like with everything I have been though
I deserve it.
I have scheduled it a dozen times since 1999, but I either got scared or felt
guilty so I backed out.
But not this time.

As crazy as it sounds I am actually
looking forward to Wednesday.

Not This Date

My Cancerversary date is approaching on Saturday.
It will be three years since I heard those words.
Words that changed every aspect of my life.
But I don't want to dwell on that day,
I choose to celebrate the day I was declared NED.
(No evidence of disease)

I am a member of a number of support groups on Facebook
and the other day a lady in one of the groups wrote this:

I won’t tell you that I wrote goodbye letters to all my dear ones before surgery, 

you might think I’m a pessimist.
I won’t tell you that I had days where I wanted to end it all while I was in chemo, 
you might thing I’m suicidal.
I won’t tell you that I am so angry about how my body looks now, 
you might think I’m ungrateful.
I won’t tell you how hurtful your ‘helpful’ tips to beat cancer naturally were, 
you might think I'm lazy.
I won’t tell you how painful it was to be told that I didn’t qualify for disability pension 
because I wasn’t given a prognosis of certain death, 
you might think I’m greedy.
I won’t tell you how disillusioned I am by the wait times for surgeries, 
oncology appointments and other cancer checks, 
you might think I am self-absorbed.
I won’t tell you how ugly I feel, 
you might think I’m narcissistic.
I won’t tell you how scared I am of a recurrence, 
you might think I’m a hypochondriac.
I won’t tell you how angry I feel when my caregiver tells me that my 
cancer means that he has lost out on things as well, 
you might think that I’m unsympathetic.
I won’t tell you how rejected I feel, 
you might think that I should just be grateful that he stayed with me.
I won’t tell you how much I fear for my children, 
you might think that I am a negative person.
All these things I will not tell-because if I do, I just might not be able to 
hold onto what I have left in the ruins of my life. 
Cancer has taken my confidence, my pride, my financial stability, 
my health, my sexuality, my youth, my optimism.

 2017 IS THE YEAR THAT I'M GOING TO TAKE IT BACK!!!!!