And then I did a 5k...

5 years ago, I looked like this:

...and then after a couple weeks of chemo I looked like this:

...and so some friends did a 5k for me dressed like this:

3 years ago, I walked the Revlon 5k and rocked my medal like this:

So this year I did it again with my friend Jenn wearing hot pink laces like this:

...and I got a flower and cute button for being a cancer survivor that looked like this:

After the 5k, we went to the Survivor tent where we feasted on yummy drinks and cupcakes like this:

There I also managed to get cupcake on myself, which wasn't as bad as when I spilled my smoothie on my cute reusable tote resulting in this:

And at the end of the day it was just fabulous in general, because for several hours that day, I got to wear a super cool hat just like this:

Four years ago, when I came back to school post cancer-fun my junior year, I worked briefly at a place called The Little Gym teaching gymnastics classes (brief background: I did gymnastics for 10 years and then taught for very nearly the same amount of time...). The owner of the gym, Kristen, was amazing. Inspirational. She had her head on straight and knew what she wanted to do with her life, and it blew me away, because she was only a couple years older than I was! I remember one of my first weeks there, Kristen got engaged. She's one of those people that was too pretty...and then the engagement ring just made it ridiculous! She glowed, and it was evident she was so very happy!!

My senior year,  just after I graduated and just after I did the 5k, Kristen and I reconnected via a website called Survivor Celebration. I had joined it and actually gone trapezing earlier in the year with cancer survivors in and post- treatment (what an experience!) and saw Kristen's name pop up. This is what Kristen wrote on the website:

I am 25 years old and have recently opened my own business in Calabasas, called The Little Gym. In January I was diagnosed with a very rare type of cervical cancer. My family and I were shocked by the news. I am getting married at the end of May and this was not the type of news I was expecting before my wedding day. I had to have a radical hysterectomy, but was fortunate enough to save my ovaries. My surgeon recommended light radiation and chemotherapy, immediately following my surgery, as my treatment. After doing a lot of research I decided to go an alternate route. It has been about 3 months since my surgery and I feel great and am very comfortable and happy with my decision to not go through with chemotherapy and radiation. Some doctors may think im crazy for not doing the treatments, but I have been fortunate enough to find a doctor that is comfortable with my decision. My lifestyle has been changed drastically due to my alternative treatment but each day I am getting more and more used to it. I still plan on getting married at the end of May and I have gotten the okay to go on my honeymoon. It has been a short, but what seems to be very long, roller coaster ride and I know I will look back on this one day and realize how much I've learned from this whole experience.


My heart sunk into my stomach when I read this. Kristen was amazing, and I felt terrible...but I also knew that feeling terrible wouldn't do much, and so I just reached out to her just to say hi and check in. We caught up over the exchange of a few messages and Facebook.

In November of 2010, Kristen wrote, as part of a longer message: Thanks soo much for your message, I truly appreciate all your thoughts and prayers.  I'm trying to keep my head up as much as possible, but it has been a battle. I just cant seem to bounce back the way I did from the first surgery. 
She exuded positivity and strength, and it was the only time I've heard even a small bit of exhaustion from her (and mind you, she opened her own business at the age of 24!). She was rightfully tired after all she had been through, and while my faith sometimes wavers, I really did think of Kristen and pray often for her. 

In April of 2011, Kristen passed away.

Kristen, on Saturday, I ran for you.


Three years ago, when I did this 5k, three people joined me. One woman was named Tanya, who you can see in the photos above. Tanya was actually my supervisor for a job I had as an undergrad at Pepperdine. Tanya always had a bubbly personality, she was always super positive, and she always offered her help and kind words to everyone around her. When she joined my 5k team, I was surprised--she was my supervisor, not a fellow student--but I was also so equally pleased! I knew getting to USC by no later than 7 a.m. would be a very early morning, and Tanya guaranteed would be bright and cheery when we arrived.

In March of 2011, Tanya and I caught up when I asked friends to make videos for my students about college. She was so excited, and it was so wonderful to catch up with her.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRK2-fNzQes (Was she not the sweetest?)

In June of 2011, Tanya took her own life.


Tanya, on Saturday, I ran for you too.


The 5k this year was very special to me for many reasons.
5 years cancer-free.
My first Mother's Day weekend since my mom passed away.
In memory of Kristen while remembering completing it with Tanya.
Ladies, all three of you are missed more than you know, by more than just me, and I hope you are celebrating in heaven together!

"Sometimes it’s tough to miss someone so wonderful."

"We feel happiness and joy to be together, to celebrate such a wonderful woman, and we also feel this indelible pain of losing someone we loved so much. "


In November, when I said those words, I knew they would unfortunately be true...and Mother's Day is one of those days that proves that losing someone indeed is not a temporary pain. It's not going away. I had a rare morning where before I opened my eyes, I really did think my mom would be here...my healthy, pre-Alzheimer's mom, and wow, it sucked to realize that was not true.


I am beyond blessed in my life--I didn't realize Mother's Day would be tough, because it's probably been 9 years since I've had something even close to a normal Mother's Day (by normal, I mean one in which your mom knows who you are...).


While I'm tempted to enjoy a margarita at 7 a.m., I instead decided, hey, it's time to make a list. (I like lists...they're neat, simple, and organized.)


So, here you go.

Top Ten Life Lessons My Mom Taught Me

10. Expiration dates are just a suggestion.

The real test is: Do you reasonably think you can eat this without getting sick? If not, put it back in the pantry or fridge. Surely it will be ready to eat in a week or two. I have heard this from my dad, aunt, and uncle too. Must be a family thing.

9. Buy a larger size. You'll grow into it.

Case in point: This jacket.

8. Don't let other people tell you what to do.

Oh yeah, my mom married my dad despite her parents not attending the wedding. This year they would have celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Does a more appropriate and positive use of the word badass exist? I think not.

7. Dogs are a (wo)man's best friend.

A dog will eat your child's face...

...and it is entirely possible to convince your dad to get you a dog despite his bold statement that we will NOT be buying any dogs, just looking at them.

6. Cubs fans are the best--and there is never an age at which it's too early to start developing one.

5. If you have kids, you can and should get them to wear ridiculous things and then take photos of them.

Supergirl (?) realizes bags are the best. Addiction begins.

 Yes! Doily...or according to Chris, muumuu.

No words to describe...

all the awesome outfits...

my brother wore. (Suspenders!)

Yes.

4. "Find somebody you want to spend the rest of your life with, and hold onto her forever." (Technically an Italian Job quote--and would apply more to Chris given the pronoun used...so let's pretend it says him/her. That said, well done, Mom. You definitely did find him. We all should be so lucky.)

3. Making someone smile? Totally worth it, regardless of what it entails.

In case you didn't know, tree-skirt ballet is about to take off big time.

2. Family wins.

In case you were wondering, harmonicas taste good.

and of course...

1. Life is tough. People aren't always going to be nice to you. Suck it up.

Chemo Email #2 (a.k.a. Cancer(-free!) Girl's Life Lessons...)

Easterly thoughts...

So to be quite honest the e-mail isn't really about Easter...however, given the timing, I apparently have written an Easterly e-mail. That said, what follows is actually a list of some of the things I've learned the past couple months that I wanted to share with you. I hope you enjoy it...and I also hope April finds you having a wonderful quarter of the year. (Yes, scary as it is, only 3/4 of 2007 remains!)

...and before I forget, if anyone would like not to receive e-mails from me anymore as I'm still using the list of people who wanted to be updated on my chemo treatments, please let me know. I send these thrice-daily epic novels since I've heard they sometimes brighten people's days, but if your day would be brighter without my e-mails filling up your inbox, that can easily be fixed! I aim to please!

Happy Easter! I love you!

love,

alex

Cancer(-free!) Girl's Life Lessons...

*A cheerful heart really IS good medicine.

*Even if you think you're not the bravest or the strongest, trust that life will make you braver and stronger than you ever thought possible.

*Listen to great music. The possibility of losing my hearing makes me appreciate it even more.

*Never underestimate how great a shower feels.

*Hair is just hair, but that doesn't mean losing it is easy. Guys, when/if you bald as you age, I feel your pain.

*I'm forgetting diets and counting calories. I intend to enjoy food. Enjoy being able to eat food that tastes good, that doesn't make you feel sick. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, I don't want the last thing I think to be: "Damn I wish I had eaten that cheeseburger."

*Along the same lines, being skinny isn't all it's cracked up to be. If you want to be skinny ask your doctor for abdominal surgery followed by chemo. It makes the couple extra pounds afterwards seem not nearly as bad.

*Never forget to say "I love you." So long as you mean it, saying "I love you" is never a waste of words.

*Don't lie. Life's too short to waste listening to and telling lies. Plus, the truth is probably more interesting.

*Smile. Life really isn't that bad.

*Be a little more discreet if you want to stare at someone. Even if you think I don't see you staring at the scarf on my head, I do...and if you're lucky I might call you out on it or wave at you just to embarrass you. ;)

*When you need someone, maybe the people you're expecting to be there aren't...but who is? Those are the people worth your time.

*Sometimes, life sucks, but it gets better. Sometimes life sucks, gets worse, and then gets better. Sometimes life sucks a whole lot, but I promise, life gets better.

*Ice cream tastes amazing and will make you happy. Music as well. (Clarification: Music will make you happy. Whether or not it tastes it amazing, I have no idea.)

*Trust yourself.

*I have amazing friends, a wonderful family, and an even more unbelievable life. Odds are you do too.

*Quit being so serious! Lighten up—life is exciting and enjoyable! If you're going to be grumpy, go be grumpy elsewhere...laughing is MUCH more fun.

*Oh and if your stomach magically grows a lot in a week and you haven't eaten in two days, go to the doctor. Apparently that's not how people get fat. 

Chemo Email #1 (I must have been crazy, right?)

TWO weeks down!!

Top Ten Great Things about Week 2 of Chemo

10. Only ONE visit to the hospital! 6 entire days spent far away from Evanston Hospital!

9. I got a shot on Monday--and I was "brave" about it! (Brave=I didn't cry OR need to be held still. I have a tiny fear of needles. The word "tiny" here means extremely big.)

8. I've been awake AND alert for about half of each day! ...An improvement on last week when I was awake maybe five hours a day.

7. I made it out to Cheesecake Factory for dinner and had one of the most amazing meals I've had in a while!

6. I gained weight! I've never been happier to see the numbers on a scale go up, but I feel much better knowing that I am eating enough. It's hard to eat about 5000 calories one day and then see the scale hasn't budged.

5. 8 Days till Christmas Eve...

4. 9 Days till Christmas...

3. 11 Days till my birthday!

2. I STILL HAVE MY HAIR! Sure it's thinned a bit and is cut so short that I routinely get annoyed that it will do nothing but stand up straight...but I still have a full head of hair!

And the number one greatest thing about Week 2 of Chemo is...

1. DAAAAAAAAAA BEARS. Da bears, da bears, da bears. They're 11-2, with an AMAZING win on Monday against the Rams. And seriously, Devin Hester's 94- and 96- yard return touchdowns? Even though I felt sicker than I have all throughout chemo, I had to watch the entire game, because it was that good...Rex is back in action! Not to mention Barack Obama finally made a formal statement about his support for the Monsters of the Midway!

...All is still going really well with chemo! How could it not when everyone and everywhere is abuzz with holiday spirit?! I hope you're getting excited for the holidays--if you need some holiday spirit boosting, I recommend watching Elf, Home Alone, and Home Alone 2. Then, put on some Harry Connick Jr.--I'm a big fan of "It Must've Been Ol' Santa Claus." If you still need boosting after all that, call me, and I'll be sure to get you excited--I have my reindeer slippers ready and waiting for Christmas morning!

HAPPY 9 DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS!

All my love,

Alex

P.S. I really am awful at picking up my phone lately. I even changed my voicemail, because I've been asleep so much. If you have called me or asked me to call you, I'm sorry I haven't really picked up or called back. I also am awful at returning e-mails. I really know I need to sit down and respond to you individually, but lately, I've become lazy, and lots of times, I'm just so tired of all this cancer-stuff that I don't want to talk about it. However, my goal this week is to really start getting better at returning e-mails at least. Once I finish all those, I'll move onto my missed calls list. Thanks for sending e-mails and calling even though I've been a bit of a brat about not picking up/replying.

P.P.S. For some of you who did not get last week's e-mail, you may be confused...well, welcome to my updates about how all this crazy chemo stuff is going!

This is why I'm a writer, not a public speaker

A week ago, I walked into a bar and ordered an absolut on the rocks with olives. The bartender gave me a look that said: “Are you serious?” but he nonetheless made my drink, and I suffered through sipping the entire thing. It wasn't my drink, though. April 21^st would have been my mom’s 61^st birthday, but in October of this past year, she passed away after battling early-onset Alzheimer’s for 10 years.  By her drink alone, I’m sure you can tell she was pretty awesome (I mean, I had to chase the vodka with a margarita, but my mom was apparently known for doing shots with my dad’s family at weddings…).

My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s when she was 50. A year later, when I was 16, my mom asked me what my name was, and a few years later, she just barely made it to my high school graduation—refusing to get dressed in the clothes my dad had laid out for her, yelling that they were “children’s clothes!” As a family, we look back on memories like this and try to laugh a little—remember how mom wouldn’t let us pick out clothes for her, because she thought we were trying to trick her and get her to wear children’s clothes? The memories are bizarre and crazy…and they highlight how Alzheimer’s is anything but a pretty disease. There is no cure, there are no odds to fight against, because even with the best treatment, there is no remission.

When I was 19, I was diagnosed with cancer, and I knew my odds. I knew the treatment plan—I was told: “This is your best chance; this is what has worked before.” When my mom was diagnosed with early–onset Alzheimer’s, and my dad asked, “What is the course of treatment?” The doctors said: “You just live each day the best you can.” There was no treatment; they tried medicine to slow it down, but in less than 3 years, she went from being an amazing, active mom, wife, and friend to someone who was fully dependent on others for her care. By being here tonight, donating and supporting the Alzheimer’s Association, you are hopefully leading to a change for others' diagnosed with Alzheimer's. There was no history of Alzheimer's in our family--we didn't know it was coming, and we couldn't do anything once it arrived. My brother and I know in the future it's possible we could hear the same diagnosis my mom did. However, we've committed to fighting against the same treatment plan she had by donating and supporting the Alzheimer's Association. Hopefully we'll be knocking back Absolut in 40 years together with all our friends, still able to remember my mom the way we do now.

I said this tonight at a fundraiser and was all fumbly and bumbly, two non-real words, but that aptly describe my fear of public speaking. Please feel free to donate and share this post with anyone and everyone!

You can donate here.