love is health
I always struggled with follow through. In the 5th grade, I rallied my classmates to create a comic book with me, teaching everyone the proper way to use colored pencils and fill white space. After 2 weeks I abandoned my leadership post, bored with the idea, and frustrated by my classmates' inability to read my mind and do what I "knew was right". The number of tasks I have started and fled from is countless. Wether I lacked focus, discipline, or grit, my struggle for completion is a life theme. I'm not a closer - I'm a creator.
So when I returned to the track last night for my first bout in 6 months - after my mastectomy, breast reconstruction, chemotherapy, a new job, sudden parenthood, and while in the midst of menopause at 30 - I conquered a lifetime of incompletion. I am reminded of this study, citing many women experience personal growth after a cancer diagnosis. However, I didn't return to the track alone. The decision to remain on our travel team and be captain through treatment was difficult. Several times I would call my co-captain Jill in a frenzy, frantic with the belief I couldn't do it - I couldn't come back to my sport, my team, my source of joy, because life had other plans for me. At one point shortly after diagnosis, I had stepped down (for 2 weeks), assuming treatment would overrun my life (which it did), and I wouldn't feel up for skating (which was true at times.) But for some reason I can't quite explain, perhaps madness, maybe stubbornness, I remained committed to my team. Even after my 2 week hiatus, they selected me as their captain for a second term, knowing I'd be going through cancer treatment in the fall. I was, and still am, completely taken aback and humbled by their faith in me. Their belief carried me through treatment, through rehabilitation, and back to the track last night. The unwavering support I have received from my teammates and derby community took me back to the gym, on skates, and leading the team again. I often questioned whether I could continue skating and serving as captain. Last night's victory in Tucson put that to rest. I'm immensely proud of my teammates. Win or lose - their character and integrity remain consistent, supportive, and familial. I say with confidence, without them - without being part of this team, with these teammates, at this time, I would have retired in June and allowed breast cancer to end my skating career. Yet here I am, at the beginning of another travel season, humbly at the helm of this intimate band of inmates. This is all to say: Thank you, Terrors. Without you, I wouldn't have returned to bouting last night. Your faith in me was like an assist through a rough pack.
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Too many things to say8/23/2013 There's so much that I want to say right now, and not enough web space in the interwebs to say it all, so I will do my best to be brief. Let me start with:
THANK YOU. Family & Friends: You have been so kind to me. From thoughtful gifts to not judging me as I lost my liquid lunch, thank you for being so wonderful & supportive. I wish I could return the favor some day. There are just so many people who have shown their support in 1 way or another. It's overwhelming, in a good way. My wonderful Luke has been exceptional (no surprise there). He's been nothing short of consistent, comfortable, safe, reliable - exactly all the things I need in my partner for a speedy, emotionally safe recovery. He's on the front lines with me, my partner in crime, my go-to-guy. I am lucky to have such an awesome partner. Roller Derby Community: I love you. For those of you not in the know, Arizona Men's Derby has organized a fundraiser to help out with my medical expenses. Skaters & Refs from all over AZ have signed up to participate. Local restaurants and national roller derby businesses have pitched in for sponsorship. Special thanks to:
My body: You are a lovely machine. Thank you for pwning cancer - LIKE A BOSS. I am healing freakishly fast, with not much pain, and an alarming amount of energy. I won't need radiation. I am cancer-free right now (knock on wood). I will be back to work next week. I will be back to the track in 3 weeks (although not about to play full contact). I almost feel like myself again, but with a bionic boobie. AboutSnapshots in time across a span of years managing breast cancer Archives
June 2020
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