Diagnosis unexpected

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' … You must do the thing you think you cannot do." - Eleanor Roosevelt (1960)

Some days are longer and harder than others.
To allow darkness to envelop us
or to focus on the light is our individual choice.

I'm writing this post in the days immediately following the U.S. presidential election, and I'm living in a country filled with a lot of hurt or fearful friends, colleagues, and kindred spirits. Many of us are feeling shock, anger, hopelessness, and other complex, nuanced things. I stand in solidarity with people who feel as though they have been abandoned by our country. I will not make excuses, and I acknowledge the work we all must do - myself included - to dismantle our many systems of oppression and hate. I have a voice, and I will use it.

I also have breast cancer.

My Monday morning diagnosis does not usurp or transcend the tidal wave of emotions swirling around the election results. But, for me personally it does add a component I have to acknowledge. I hope to fight battles on two fronts - one for the greater good/social change and one to reclaim my body from cancer.

In the few weeks since a lump unexpectedly appeared in my breast, and I felt it - hard, big, tender, scary - my world has changed. I'm coming to terms with this new reality. I'm trying to remember that "as long as I'm breathing, there is more right with me than wrong with me" (Jon Kabat Zinn).

My little Lizzie Bee

A little over two weeks ago, I found the lump with the help of my 14-year-old kitty, Lizzie. For realz. I'd been traveling for several days, and Lizzie was craving attention from me upon my return. As she often is wont to do, Lizzie nuzzled up on my abdomen while I was laying down. As a reflex to her taking over my space, my hands fluttered to rest atop my chest. And, there it was - an alien mass.

I immediately sought care and had a battery of tests. My results revealed a high grade invasive mammary carcinoma, which has spread into a few nearby lymph nodes. By classification, I have Stage IIB, triple negative breast cancer. The good news is that this is treatable and curable. We're moving quickly to schedule treatments. The tumor feels large (although, in reality, its somewhere between 2-5 cm), seems to be growing quickly, and has concerning characteristics. Chemotherapy, followed by surgery and radiation, is in my immediate future.

My grandma Jean Drechsler's necklace.
The front says "Grandmother" and the back
has my name and birthday. Wearing it a lot lately.

Breast cancer isn't new in my world, just in my body. My grandmother had breast cancer, and my cousin Eileen recently and successfully completed treatment for it, as well. I also have participated in two Komen Breast Cancer 3-Day walks (I wrote about the last one here: https://inlieuofthezone.blogspot.com/2008/10/three-days-of-fun-for-good-cause.html), and I am armed with resources and knowledge.

Overwhelmed is the feeling I most relate to right now. The learning curve for a newly diagnosed cancer patient is steep. There is language I must decipher and acquire, lots of new people (mostly doctors, nurses, and technicians) in my daily life, and tests upon tests. I have the absolutely most incredible spouse, Sean, and he is with me in this 100%. My amazing parents are headed this way to help next week as I begin chemotherapy on Nov. 16 - my dad's 70th birthday. I have my sisters, family, and dear friends leaping to shower me with unconditional love and support.

I'm inundated with good wishes, encouragement, and prayers from people who know and love me, along with those whom I may not know but wish to be part of the journey in a positive way. The deluge is so welcome and appreciated - I've always believed in the power of community, and I'm thankful for mine in these tough days.

I know people want to support me in tangible ways. I've been thinking about what I can tell folks who ask how they can help. Here are a few of my first ideas:

1. Check yourself. Seriously, do it now and then again next month. I have a fast-growing tumor that was not something I could feel a month ago, and now it's a freaking golf ball. Don't know how to do a self-exam? Look at http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/breast-self-exam. Also, get your annual office check-ups. All of you, please do it. Doctors can help find things early!
2. Donate your resources to a charity that supports women's health, particularly for those who have less than I do. Drive someone near you to an appointment they couldn't otherwise get to, volunteer your time at a clinic, or offer a special skill you have (e.g., knit caps, give manicures, clean a house, do yard work). Or, make a monetary donation to support an organization. I am beyond fortunate to have coverage through Sean's federal employee health care plan. I can get treatments, exams, lab tests, and access to resources at top-notch facilities. Lots of women cannot. You can help them, and here are some possible avenues. I welcome additional links to recommended groups!
1. https://www.plannedparenthood.org/
2. http://www.cancer.org/cancer/breastcancer/index
3. http://ww5.komen.org/WhatWeDo/IntheCommunity/NationalCommunityHealthPrograms/NationalCommunityHealthPrograms.html
4. http://www.cancercare.org/
5. http://www.patientadvocate.org/
3. Offer to take on a small project to help me with my job. Breast cancer patients are encouraged to continue working, exercising, and living healthy lives. SO, I'm gonna keep working as the Executive Director for CAS (www.cas.edu). But, since I'm also the only full-time staff member for CAS, I might need some help ensuring everything gets managed well. If you are a higher ed, association management, or CAS friend, in particular, I might be able to find little things you can do that will make a big difference for me.
4. Get outside (if you are able) and go for a walk, jog, hike, or ride. I am going to walk and do yoga and whatever else I'm cleared to do. If something strikes you, please feel free to share a thought or picture with me! We live in such a beautiful world, and I'm determined not to take that for granted even when things are tough. You can check out pics of what I see and appreciate on my instagram account at https://www.instagram.com/marybethjds/.
5. Support a cause about which you're passionate. I'm a big supporter of brain cancer research and treatment (http://abc2.org/ or http://braintumor.org/), since it's NOT as treatable and curable as other cancers. My dear friend Miranda died from such a tumor in February 2014 (https://inlieuofthezone.blogspot.com/2014/02/lost-in-loss.html), and I try to celebrate her in my life as often as I can. If you want to honor me, you might select something like the National Park Foundation, the National Zoo, The Sierra Club, The Nature Conservancy, the ACLU, the Human Rights Campaign, UNICEF, The ALS Association‎, or another organization you love. 
6. Give someone a hug and tell them how much you love them. Cheesy? Sure. But we all need love right now. I'm a big fan of caring for one another. I wish I could hug you all. This. Very. Minute.
7. Send along some of your favorite book recommendations. You can even send your dog-eared copies to me. I'm gonna sit for 5 months worth of chemo treatments. Sessions can be hours and hours long. Maybe I'll catch up on some of the pleasurable reading I haven't been doing in the past 10 years...
8. Support the people supporting me. My mom and dad, nearby friends, and Sean are all going to do some heavy lifting in the near future. And, I will have LOTS of doctors, nurses, and technicians. Good vibes, prayers for wisdom, positive energy, wishes for strength, or tangible things to make their lives easier would be awesome. (Sean likes beer, bourbon, meat, and chocolate chip cookies. So does my dad.)
9. If you got this far and really still want to do something just for me. Positive reinforcement is probably the best way most folks can help. Tell me I'm strong, remind me of good things I've done for you or others, pray for me, make me laugh, and just make real connections with me. I have this disease, but I'm still Mb! If you are intent on sending something, I like cards, quotes, healthy vegetarian snacks, and stuffed animals. Meals and fruit could be nice, or even a gift card for takeout. I'll try to think of other things - but, please, I'm not really into pink or much "stuff" in general. What matters most to me are the relationships I have with individual friends and family members.

Please, don't feel sorry for me - that's one of the hardest things to take. Root for me! I come from a LONG line of strong women and men. I am a fighter. (And, also a crier, cusser, and curl-up-in-the-middle-of-my-bed-in-fearer.) I believe I can beat this cancer, and I'll do my best to stay positive. Thanks for being with me on this journey I hoped I'd never take...