A Tribute to the Warriors

On Sunday, October 17th, I volunteered with my mom in the survivor tent for the Making Strides Walk for Breast Cancer.  Usually, three to four thousand women shuffle through the survivor tent where I stand handing out schedule pamphlets for the Look Good, Feel Better Program.  A little bit about the program.  LGFB is a community program designed to help women deal with the physical affects of chemotherapy and radiation treatments.  The program is free for these women.  Licensed cosmotologists and estheticians volunteer time to helping female cancer patients feel good about their physical appearances again.  Here, women are shown how to apply make up and even receive a free make up kit to take home.  I am confident that the LGFB program is achieving the goals it set out to do.   Mostly because many of the suvivors that pass by our table tell us what an amazing program it was for them during their journey. 

For some reason on this particular morning, women seemed as though they wanted to share their journeys.  One woman in particular really touched my heart forever.  I don't know her name, but I will never forget her face or her spirit.  She stopped by the tent and I asked her if she was familiar with the LGFB program.  She explained to me that she was in between treatments at the moment.  She told me how she's been fighting breast cancer for 4 1/2 years.  This time though it has metastasized to her bones.  My heart sank to my feet.  I looked at her and told her how amazing she looked.  Looking at her, you would NEVER even know that an evil beast was eating her up inside.  She was in such great spirit and told me "I'm not ready to go anywhere yet.  He doesn't want me yet.  He knows I'd be too much of a bitch up there." And we both exchanged a giggle.  She continued to tell me how her oncologist can't believe how she is doing as well.  I asked her how she feels on a day to day basis.  Her answer: "Some days are bad.  It has spread to my spine and my hips, so there are some days where I can't even walk.  But I don't tell anybody about it."  She also said that she has allergic reactions to regular chemo treatments and one time even had an outer body experience with it.  So she's waiting for a new type of treatment to try at the moment.  She continued to tell me how a team was there walking for her.  And that her son is leaving for Afghanistan so she is going to take a trip to see him to say goodbye.  I told her to keep up that spirit. And we hugged.  She went about her day, and on my way out of the walk I saw her sitting by her husband in chairs by the entrance way so she could see her support system/team walking back.  I waved to her and she waved back.  But something made me stop in my tracks.  I ran up to her and said... "I just need to give you a hug.  You are truly amazing!  You keep doing what you're doing!"  She said "Thank you.  You make sure you take care of that baby."  As I walked away from that woman, the realization that I didn't know her name, or that I may never see her again put me into tears, I broke... because chances of her making it to next year's Making Strides Walk are not likely.  I pray for her strength.  I pray for her family's strength to take on the road that awaits them in the coming weeks and months.

Overall, the morning was an emotional one for me.  Perhaps more so due to pregnancy hormones.  Or it could've just been due to thoughts of past memories and journeys of those we've loved and lost.  It's an amazing feeling though to look out into the huge crowd of walkers and supporters and to see all the pink that takes over for that bit of time.  It's one time a year that I don't mind getting up before dawn, because I know that I am going out there to provide information that helps those who are battling this evil bitch feel good even just for a little bit.  I would love to work with the cancer society and be a family consultant.  However, I don't have the strength in me that I did when helping Jess and her family.  I think that's largely in part because after using up all that strength, what followed tore me apart.  And when I see other families going through the same battle, I know what they are potentially facing and it all floods back to me.  But those women are TRUE Warriors.  They fight and they battle for freedom... their own freedom.  Freedom from the masses that try to take over their bodies.  But I also realize that they aren't the only warriors.  They have their army marching behind them every step of the way.  This army consists of sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, husbands, friends... you name it, the list goes on and on.  These armies stand strong and hold up their warrior.  So I dedicate this post to the Warriors and the armies that stand up behind them.  The women who battle every day and beat that evil bitch called breast cancer.  The women who I couldn't even begin to fathom how they might feel inside both physically and emotionally on their march through the battlefield.  I will always do what I can to be a part of making some sort of difference. Donating is one thing and always helps, but DOING and helping others is in my blood and holds no greater feeling.  I may not be that warrior (though one never knows what the future may hold).  However, I will always be a part of that army.  God Bless...

The Many Feelings of October

October tends to bring about so many mixed feelings for me.  I will start with what I love about October.  I love the changing of the seasons.  I love the smell of crisp autumn air coming through the windows. The changing colors of the leaves is mother nature's paintbrush leaving beautiful patches of bright orange, yellow and red throughout the state.  There's nothing better than  the crunch of freshly picked apples, and the smell of pumpkin cookies baking in my oven.

 I even enjoy the mess of gutting a pumpkin and attempting to create a jack-o-lantern with the pokers, carvers and patterns that come in kits.  Although, I think the patterns lie when it is labled as "easy."  I alo enjoy celebrating Ed's birthday in the beginning of the month. 

There are however things about October that bring about feelings of emptiness.  As much as I love the fall season, I hate the bare, blah feeling of the bitter cold winter.  So after these leaves bring their fullest color out like a crystal dangling in the sun splashing bits of rainbow everywhere, they all whither up and fall to the ground, leaving the trees looking lifeless.  (And leaving Ed lots of work in the yard.)  I know what comes next, and that leaves me feeling a bit empty, missing the heat of summer days.  It is also Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  Enough said.

The end of October marks another feeling of emptiness.  It's the beginning of the loss of a good friend.  October 26th, is a day I will never forget.  Three years ago on that day, I was supposed to go to a wedding down the shore.  I had taken off of work that day to prepare.  It was pouring rain all day.  A few days prior  Jessica had been diagnosed with a mass at the top of her spine.  The doctors wanted her to go for a brain scan.  I was off on that Friday, the 26th, and she asked if I would go with her so she could get the scan done, and I would help her with her two boys (Noah and Gavin) in the waiting room.  As she went in for her scan, I did my best to stay positive.  Praying, that there wasn't more bad news to be had.  How could it be?  She had breast cancer a year ago...  it can't be back and in her brain?!  I wasn't going to let her get down about it.  I was her horse that day.  I remember walking out of the office afterwards and Jess telling me how she had to fight, for her boys.  She was going to do whatever it took to do so.  In the car she told me, how she was so excited for my wedding (which at the time was less than a year away).  We listened to the Beatles, because her radio antenna was missing.  And laughed about different things.  We got back to her place and I had to leave so I could get ready for the wedding. 



Jessica Lynn Quinn (Donaldson)



 I got home and had some time to spare before getting drssed and packing for the night.  I was home for maybe 20 minutes when my phone rang.  On the other end was Jess.  She sounded down.  When I asked what was wrong her first words were.  "I'm gonna die, Bobbi."  I said, "Hold on a second, what happened?"  She said the doctor had called her already.  She had a golf ball size tumor in the front of her brain.  "It's most likely terminal."  She said as she cried into the phone.  I couldn't be her horse anymore.  At that moment, I broke down.  I cried with her through the phone wishing I had never left her at that house.  Wishing I had been there when she got the call so I could have hugged her and cried with her.  We got ourselves together and I tried my best to stay positive.  I told her that no matter what she was going to fight this and that I would be by her side helping her do so.  I'd help her get anything together family wise, whatever she needed.  That day changed me for the next two months.  I cried a countless number of times.  I put together a schedule for friends and family to go over to her apartment to help with the boys.  I helped her vaccuum her hair when it started falling out.  We organized a fundraiser in November to help her pay for medical bills, which was a HUGE success.  Took turns driving her to radiation appointments. And continued full speed until we could do no more. 



Early December 2007



The day came in the first week of December when I went to visit during one of her hospital stays.  Again, another rainy day' (What was it with the rain?!)  I walked into her hospital room already knowing what was coming.  Her first words to me were "So did you hear my shitty news?"  I said, "Yeah babe, I heard your shitty news."  As I held back the tears, she and I had some time to talk, alone.  I asked her what she was thinking.  She told me, "When I think about leaving the boys and not getting to see them grow up, it hurts.  But I've come to terms with it otherwise."  By that point, the cancer was all down her spinal fluid.  It was actually easier to say where the cancer wasn't rather than naming all the places it had spread to by then.  She had a choice.  The doctors could insert a port at the top of her spine and they could inject chemo directly into her spinal fluid to try and kill the carcinoma meninjitis.  But chances are she would end up like a vegetable unable to move because her spine would no longer have the strength to support her.  That was not the kind of life that she wanted.  So she chose the other option.  To go home with hospice care and be made as comfortable as possible.  She was home for two weeks beforeher  passing around 1:30 in the morning on December 21, 2007.  I got a text from her husband, and a call from her brother.  I had left her just a few hours earlier, and had  feeling it would be that night. 



Our last picture together 11/2007



I had said my good byes and made my peace in the days before.  And I still got a couple of good chuckles from her in those days at home too.  I never realized the pain one could feel in the loss of a friend.  I had never lost someone so young in my life.  And every year as October approaches, my thoughts and memories are flooded with Jessica.  How I wish she were here to be able to see me become a mommy in a few months. 

But I do know she is with me when I need her.  I believe in the spiritual life, and have been to a couple of Mediums and had positive experiences communicating with her.  And I know it's her, because that personality is not one that just anybody could have.  She still gives me good laughs when I go to one of those sessions.  I have had visits from her in my dreams, and signs of her here and there in my normal daily goings.  

So yeah,  October, does leave me feeling a little empty.  But I am grateful for having had her in my life, the memories we shared throughout the years, and the tears I STILL shed on occasion are a reminder of that.  And her boys, well, they are loved so very much by so many people and are getting so big now at 3 and 5 years of age.  They may never remember her.  But she will always be there for them spiritually. 

So PLEASE.... do yourself and those you love around you a favor... check your family history for breast cancer.  Get those boobies squished on a yearly basis.  That few minutes of discomfort can give you the blessing of many more years of memories with loved ones. 

And always be sure to LIVE like it's your last day.   LAUGH your ass off every day.  And LOVE with all your heart.  Because you never know how long you will have to do it all.