Sunday, January 20, 2013

January 20, 2013

What does a Stage IV Lymphopixie do during the stressful interval between a CT scan last Wednesday and an oncology appointment next Tuesday?  She climbs up on her roof to trim some trees, of course…..

 
Rooftop dork ornament.

 
I would think that if the CT scan indicated some not-so-great news, Dr. Hampshire would’ve called right away – but I haven’t heard from him, so I guess I’ll just have to sit tight and wait until the appointment and bloodwork on Tuesday.

 
 
I was still pretty stressed about this CT scan, and wasn't thrilled about going.....
 
 
 
 
.....but the actual scan was quick and painless, as always.  The staff at the CT/MRI department are all the most kind, gentle, friendly people – despite the reason why I have to get quarterly CT scans, it’s really a pleasant experience!

 
Painless.  Really!
 
 
IV port installed and ready to roll.
 
One of the best things about a CT scan?
The delicious warm blankie they cover you with!
 
My view.
 
What a CT scan view SHOULD be.
 
About 10 minutes, start to finish.  Done and done!
 
Our last Team In Training (TNT) session was yesterday, at the same place where we began on September 8. 

 
Crown Point, Mission Bay. 
Beautiful sunrise, and about 25 degrees warmer than last week's session!
 
I can’t believe the half-marathon is already next weekend!!!  It was just a little over 4 months ago that I attended my first TNT Saturday session; in those few months, I have been inspired, impressed, and humbled, and have been blessed to meet amazing people who have become wonderful friends.  TNT is a magnificent family of highly diverse athletic skill levels, but all united by a common goal: to wipe out blood cancers.  I would sign up for the next training season in a heartbeat – but I’m going to focus this season on my daughter’s training and fundraising for the Mayor’s Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska in June.  Amanda (a.k.a. The Baby Gazelle) also formed a tight bond with TNT and its mission – and discovered that she really loves running.  Alaska will be her first full marathon.  As her mom, I’m endlessly proud of her for her dedicated progression from casual jogger to trained endurance athlete.  As her mom with a blood cancer, I’m incredibly grateful for her commitment to helping The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society find cures for leukemia, lymphomas, and myelomas.  Go Amanda!  You are my hero!

 
My beautiful Baby Gazelle.
 
When I wasn’t roof-climbing and tree-trimming this weekend, I began customizing my singlet (the fancy term for race jersey). 

 
Front.....
 
 
.....and back.
 
From the beginning of this season, I knew I wanted to do the half-marathon to honor two very important people in my life, as well as millions of others that I’ll never meet.  
 
Glenn was Amanda’s dad and my first husband, who lost his battle with Multiple Myeloma in 2004, a few months after seeing Amanda (his oldest child) graduate from high school. 

Amanda and Glenn - Grand Canyon - 1987
 
Carol is my fabulous LaLa, who waged a kick-ass fight against Hodgkin’s Lymphoma – chemo, radiation, the whole shebang – but still came to work every day with a smile on her beautiful face.  She and I will be walking the half-marathon together.

My LaLa and I on top of the Duomo - Florence, Italy - 2009
 
And Stage IV Warriors is the global community of those currently fighting their own battle against the shitty-ass cancer that has forever altered their lives.

 
 
 
Cancer has touched EVERYONE who’s reading this - how has it changed YOUR life?  What are YOU going to do about it?