Poppies

Poppies

I thought I’d share these poppies for a little color bling for this end of summer post.

poppy

Monday was our seventh wedding anniversary. Seven years, and I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. I know I’m lucky to spend my life surrounded by so much love.

poppies

Now that we’ve risen to the challenge of sickness and poorer, I’m looking forward to experiencing some richer and health. 😉

Any day now…

poppy | CoffeeJitters.Net

In the meantime, we’re just trying to soak up the beauty we find all around us.

poppy | CoffeeJitters.Net

Bagpipes and the Sea

Bagpipes and the Sea

Beautiful day by the ocean in Moclips, Washington.

The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot.

Aaron got out his bagpipes and played to the sea. It’s not so loud when the pipes are competing with the surf…

bagpipes and the sea

There was quite a bit of wind stirring the dust and sand, and making for some interesting visual effects.

baby and bagpiper on the beach

 

bagpiper on the beach

And of course we had the cutest little photobomber…

bagpiper and baby photobomber

Thank You

If you haven’t already heard, we have some pretty awesome news: I just completed my treatment for breast cancer!

I am so ready to get on with my life, but first I want to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who helped get me through the past 16 months since my diagnosis.

1. Gem

Look at that face. She is such a powerful motivator. And sweet, too.

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No matter how rough things got, she was enough to get me out of bed – Even if that meant just going to the living room, and cuddling up with her on the floor.

It’s amazing how much she has grown up through this ordeal. Here she is just a week before I was diagnosed:

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2. My Husband, Aaron

Aaron is my biggest cheerleader, the one who kept telling me that I CAN do this. He was the one who held me when I cried, and told me he would still love me no matter what, and made me feel sexy even missing a boob.

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He wouldn’t let me get depressed, and he fills my life with music.

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3. Mom

My mom was the one I could count on to drop everything, and come running at a moment’s notice

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4. Friends who formed a little army of volunteers

Kristen, Mary Jane, Diane, Sommer, Carrie, Candice, Tim, Mel, Sharon, and Perry – I can’t begin to describe how much you helped me. From bringing meals, to babysitting Gem, to washing dishes, to just sitting with me or taking me outside for a walk, you really helped to carry me through.

5. The young women of the Young Survival Coalition

It’s one thing to experience sympathy and empathy, but nothing helps like meeting others who understand because they’ve been there. I have written about the Young Survival Coalition before, and I’m sure I will do so again and again and again going forward. These girls are my confidants, my hand-holders, my glass of wine with a side of giggles, and my sneaking out from a vegetarian retreat to bring back a side of bacon.

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5. Debbie Cantwell and The Pink Daisy Project

A breast cancer survivor herself, Debbie started The Pink Daisy Project to help other young women deal with the overwhelming facts of everyday life that pile up while battling this disease. She came to my rescue by sending grocery cards so I could buy diapers, and hired a cleaning crew when I was too sick to deal with housekeeping. Debbie is truly a hero. Stay tuned: I’ll have more to say about Debbie in future posts. 🙂

pink daisy project

6. Delia

Dee is one of my oldest friends, and she’s been there for me through thick and thin. When I was diagnosed, she flew out to be here with me during my mastectomy. She helped whip my house into shape while I was recovering, and watched the baby, and helped in too many ways to list in one post. She’s another one of those people that I can count on no matter what.

Judy and Dee

7. Old and New Friends; Some I’ve Never Met

Social media is an amazing phenomenon, and it has had a profound effect on my life. It’s brought me back into contact with old friends I haven’t seen in more than two decades, and it has introduced me to new friends, some I speak with every day, but have yet to meet face to face.  These friends have followed me through the ups and downs, provided encouragement, hope, sometimes a little gift or cash, an ear, a shoulder – and often at 3 in the morning, when normal people aren’t available.

So now I’m done with treatment. I’m still contending with some of the side effects. I have some neuropathy, the fatigue is still slowing me down, and I’m typing with one hand because my arm is bound up to treat the lymphedema. But these are little, non-life-threatening issues, and we can deal with that.

Right now, my heart is just full of gratitude.

Now, we are looking forward. We are looking forward to Aaron getting a job. We are looking forward to me finishing my degree. We are looking forward to Gem being potty trained, and learning to read, and getting ready for pre-school. We are looking forward to a long, happy, and healthy life together.

Love to you all.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: A kicking-cancer’s-ass and everything else under the sun update

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: A kicking-cancer’s-ass and everything else under the sun update

I guess it’s time for another update on the whole kicking-cancer’s-ass and getting-on-with-my-life situation.

Let me e’splain.
No, there’s too much. Let me sum up.

The Ugly

I finished up the radiation treatments and my skin is feeling much better, although it still looks dirty and scaly in a big square-shaped patch across my chest and collarbone. It’s not too much of a problem, although I look like I missed a spot while bathing if I wear a v-neck, or anything with a lower than crew-neck collar.  That’s all fine though, and it will fade with time.

I just have a handful of Herceptin treatments left, and I’m done with scheduled treatment altogether!  And my hair has grown back enough for me to have bad hair days frequently! Anna, I’ll be giving you a call soon so you can whip my poor confused locks into shape.

My lymphedema is not really under control, so I’m going to have to get (even more) serious about dealing with that, and find some time (and $) for more physical therapy treatments.  The swelling isn’t too bad at the moment, but the pain is getting worse, and it makes my right arm essentially useless, even for little things like writing more than a couple sentences by hand. One of the best things I can do for my arm is not lift heavy things, but more on that later.  I’ll also need more lymphedema sleeves and gloves (very pricey) as mine are getting stretched out and not snapping back into shape anymore.

The Bad

The side effect that is having the biggest impact on my life right now is fatigue. It just seems like it should have lifted a bit by now, but it keeps getting worse. Part of the problem: I went back to school full time in January, and that may have been a bit too soon. I was determined, and I decided that cancer had sidelined my life long enough. So back I went. Full time. Why? Because I hadn’t been challenged enough lately? That semester kicked my ass, and by the time it was over, I felt like I just wanted to sleep for a month. (I did manage to pass all my classes, but I have never in my life been so happy to get a C.)

But no rest for me.

Aaron graduates with his Master’s Degree at the end of this quarter (that part isn’t bad, in fact it’s awesome!!), which means we need to be out of the school provided apartment, and get one of our own. So house hunting commences. And packing. And job hunting. And how do you get an apartment when you don’t have a job yet?

Also.

Mom is moving back to Alaska to live with my brother, and somebody has to pack up her apartment (hi). She wants to be completely out of her apartment by next week, then she will live with us a couple weeks until we hit the road to drive to Alaska.

The Good

Did you catch that “WE hit the road” part?  Yeah, Gem and I are driving up to Alaska with mom!  So Aaron can finish classes (teaching AND as a student), hunt for an apartment if we haven’t found one yet, hunt for a job, and finish packing up the house while the baby and I are on vacation. Then we’ll move into the new place as soon as we get back, just a few days before our vacate deadline for this apartment.

I’m really excited about this trip, and I have so many old friends in Alaska that I dearly miss and can’t wait to see again. Most of them haven’t even met my daughter yet.  Brace yourself for this blog becoming a bit of a travelogue in the near future. I’ve been known to take a few pictures while on vacation.

and the best medicine any girl could ask for:

The Lovely

The Promise

The Promise

“Will you still love me if I get breast cancer and they cut off my boobs and my hair falls out?”

I should have known better than to ask the question, but I was insecure in our young relationship, and I craved the constant reassurance. Of course he put my fears to rest, along with all the other worst case scenarios I could think up.

Neither one of us imagined how quickly he would be called on to honor that promise.

And he did – he does every day.

With each step in the process – the diagnosis, the mastectomy, my hair falling out, the day he shaved my head – I braced myself for a hesitation, a pause, an ever-so-slight withdrawal. But it never happened. In fact, it was just the opposite. I think we are closer now, more in love, than we were before.

marriage

Six years ago today we stood under a tree and vowed to love each other for richer or for poorer, through sickness and in health. Damn if we didn’t nail poorer and sickness. But I wouldn’t dream of spending this time with anyone else.

You might think that with the cancer diagnosis and six months of treatment so far, this year was the worst of my life. It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. That dubious distinction is reserved for my years at Valley Christian School. This past year, cancer included, counts among the best years of my life. And that is because of my husband – and my baby girl.

Happy Anniversary, Sweety. I love you so much.

Now let’s go get some happy meals.

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You can learn more about my cancer story here:

my cancer story | Judy Schwartz Haley

 

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