I went for my scans yesterday.

I have to keep telling myself that no matter what I hear today, I will still come home and be with my family tonight.

Today is such a big day for us getting these results. No matter what I’m told, I still have hurdles to jump over and roads to travel.

Yesterday was a long day.

I prayed for peace and I received it.

My friend eileen told me to imagine that when I was in the tube, strapped in and the mask over my head wig warring and beeping and whizzing and banging…

To imagine that I was instead in Mary’s womb, a child of God, that Jesus was with me, and the constant beating I heard was Mary’s heartbeat. That I was safe and protected and never alone in there.

It worked.

I had the same man who always puts in the IV for the radioactive dye. We had a hard time last time, and I told him about the warm packs, but he said he didn’t want to admit defeat immediately. He managed to get it in first try (couldn’t use the port for these tests.). I became emotional when it was taped down, and I thanked him. He said he had the easy job, and mine was much harder. So true.

I had the same tech for the tests, and I told him we were 1-2 for results. One remission, two recurrences. He offered to get someone else to do it because we haven’t gotten good results the last two times together, but I told him that this time we would even the score.

I told him I actually complained about the painting at the foot of the machine, and how it is upside down the whole test with the mirror. He then did something very kind for me, but I promised to keep it quiet. It’s something that I’m going to one day try and get all hospitals to do, as it helped me immensely.

The first test was the full body one. That took over an hour.

When it was done, he pulled me out and unstrapped me and allowed me to stand and stretch for a moment. He said I could have headphones with music for the next test, as they were only looking at my abdomen and not my brain for the second round. He was surprised when I asked for the Nat King Cole Christmas station, but I said it made me happy.

He strapped me back down and in the tube I went.

The first song I heard?

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas”. The song I referred to all the time when I was first diagnosed and reminds me of my Nanny.

Then?

“Oh Holy night”, my grandmothers favorite song.

Not only was Jesus in the tube with me, but so were my grandmothers. It was hard not to cry because my head was strapped down in a mask and my arms were strapped to my sides and I couldn’t wipe my tears.

I became nervous when he had to take a couple of scans over and over. I kept telling myself it was to get an even clearer picture of the liver to show it’s clean and clear.

He pulled me out and said it’s done, and I said “Merry Christmas.” He told me I was the happiest calmest patient he thinks he ever had.

Christmas music will do that to me.

I started the testing process at 9:30, and walked out at 12.

I went to work and ended up having to redo all of my report card comments that apparently went missing. I cursed a little, then rolled up my sleeves and did them all over again. I’m good at moving on.

I went to a wake last night for my former school nurse’s husband. We held hands and she talked about God’s grace and beauty at the end. We spoke about how it may seem like forever now until she sees him again in Heaven, but truly it is the blink of an eye compared to the eternity they will spend together. We also talked about how and when do you tell your spouse everything that needs to be said before goodbye.

When rob and I got to the parking lot, I did my thirty second cry as he hugged me and I asked if he knew everything that needed to be said from me.

He does.

We came home and everyone was in bed by 8:30.

I meet with my doctor today at 10:30.

Im visualizing her coming in and saying, “Great Scans Keri. Now on to the tumor board.”

Thank you for all of your comments of support. It helps more than you know.

I’m hoping to share some good news around 11:30…

Or 11:11.

May today bring remission again, and a clear path ahead.

Not today, cancer. Today…

I will hear the four months of hard chemo worked. All cancer is gone. The tumor board will accept to hear my case. Long term remission is in my hands.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

I’m still here.

I know it’s been a while. Teaching kindergarten can be life consuming, and when you throw heavy chemo on top of that…

And then a little situation where you need to move your classroom for two weeks, then set it all back up again…

It’s been two months.

Yesterday I finished the chemo treatment. Those diagnosed with stage four cancer never “finish ” as they are in treatment for life, playing whack-a-mole whenever it pops up. Our hope is that this is an oligometastatic case, I’ll get scans next week, the cancer is all dead, surgery can be scheduled for mastectomy, then remission for years and years and decades.

I’ve been posting on my Facebook every day, and apologize for not keeping up here.

I remember when I was first diagnosed I searched high and low for blogs of women with stage four breast cancer . Inevitably, they would just stop. Then I would search for obituaries and find them.

I don’t want anyone who has been recently diagnosed to go through that with me for about forty years… so if I stop posting, just imagine me off living my best life.

Deal?

Here is my post from today…

I rang that bell.

It was so emotional.

I left school and took selfies with staff. My secretaries Lisa and Mirta carried me through, and Lisa wasn’t there. My former Secretary Julie was filling in, and as I left, she was on the phone with Lisa. We took a selfie and I felt happy that I managed to have Lisa there in spirit.

I got home at lunch and started the prep, pulling out frozen peas and blueberries, getting the benedryl and Pepcid ready, boiling the tea and getting the special drink ready I have to drink during chemo, and just breathing. The cookies that Merry’s Cakes made for the staff at the hospital were beautiful and perfect. I wanted butterflies because I was told by Jennifer Williamson that they are a sign of the Holy Spirit, and I chose a mint color because my former superintendent always jokes with me about mint and makes me laugh every time.

Mint never gets old.

I stopped at the Meetinghouse Deli for my food, and gave the ladies my shield necklaces and some flowers. They didn’t charge me once this whole time for any of the food. The kindness of others has been amazing and carried me through this time.

We got to the hospital and it was busy. The girl at the front desk said the ribbon cutting for the new cancer center was yesterday. It will open to patients in January and apparently it’s beautiful, even with a fireplace. Comfort matters.

I got lots of hugs from all of the nurses and staff, and one told me to contact her when I’m ready to have babies because she is a doula.

We laughed and she was shocked when I told her I was going to be 46 years old in two weeks. She thought I was in my late twenties/early thirties. That felt good.

I was brought to my infusion chair, and it was the same exact chair I started in four months ago. They have a lot of chairs, and i never was scheduled for that chair after my first treatment.

I saw my friend’s mom and gave her one of my necklaces as well as a cookie. She said she was so happy for me that I was done, but it was nice seeing me whenever she went because she felt like she had family with her. I held her hand and sent her all of my energy, and said we can meet up at a better place next time.

The nurses were so busy yesterday, and I caught glimpses of some of former nurses.

My favorite one was away at training, but she ended up stopping by at the very end. She was in Israel on a “Walk with Jesus” tour this month, and prayed specifically for me. I also gave her one of my Joshua 1:9 shield necklaces. She got me through my hardest days there.

My friend from high school has a sister in law who I met November 15 two years ago when she took me aside before the biopsy and walked me through it. She came by and we discussed next steps.

The chemo ended and it was time. My favorite nurse stayed so she could bring me to the bell, my nurse from yesterday came, and another nurse who was so great after my port placement stayed as well. I had wanted to say something eloquent, about hope and faith. About how I was ringing the bell after being told I only had weeks or months left. How I hated that bell and what it stood for, because I would never end treatment. How I decided to ring the bell because it’s a celebration for simply being alive and finishing four months of hard chemo, and even though I don’t know what’s coming next week…

I had that moment in time to choose joy and celebrate.

Instead, I cried.

I thought of all of my friend who I have lost in these two years. I thought of my friends who have continued to thrive and write their own miracle stories. I thought of all of the men and women with all types of cancers at all stages.

I thought of my children and rob.

They said to ring it loud, and no one was in the waiting room. If there had been other patients, i wouldn’t have rung it loud out of respect.

But it was empty.

So I rang it over and over.

I didnt count, but when I watched, I rang it thirteen times.

I had thirteen treatments.

When I was done, we all hugged, and my nurse said that the hard part will be the mental part. To remember a cold is just a cold and not cancer. An ache can be just an ache. To move on and live.

I go on Tuesday for the scans.

Wednesday for results.

The tumor board may be meeting Friday to discuss my case and see if any surgeon will touch it, as long as scans are clean.

They will move fast, because they have to operate when cancer is all dead.

So the clock has started to tick.

The next week will be huge.

I’ll keep breathing and teaching and living.

I went to my niece’s birthday party and got hugs from my family and friends. Paula, Alli and Jill have helped me keep my sanity the past few months. It was good to see them, as well as the rest of my family.

All of the kids were in costumes, and they had fun. I saved a few cookies from the nurses platter for my kids, and we sang.

I had so many signs yesterday, it felt like in A Christmas Carol, or It’s a Wonderful Life.

We listened to Christmas carols all day yesterday.

After chemo we got into the car and “White Christmas” was on. My nan loved that song. The next song? “Oh Holy Night”, which was my paternal grandmothers favorite song. I never met her as she died from Cancer when my dad was nine, but he told me about the song and I learned to play it on the piano for her. Then the next song? “Have yourself a merry little Christmas “. The song I played over and over two years ago.

Three songs in a row.

We also got to the hospital at 1:11.

It was November 1…11/1.

We ended and pulled out at 4:44.

Lots of signs to fill my heart with peace.

Today I’ll go to work and drink a lot of water. The last weekend was hard, and it’s been cumulative. I’m thankful

I’ve been able to function and plan to continue to do so.

I’ve got a Thanksgiving Feast, a Field Trip, and report cards due…then parent teacher conferences.

All in the next three weeks.

It’s going to be a whirlwind, along with scans and results and plans for next steps.

And let’s throw my birthday and cancerversary in there as well.

I’ll be busy but I’m thankful.

Because I’m here.

And plan to be here for many many many more years.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

Last day of summer vacation.

It’s going to be challenging to go back to work tomorrow and see people who aren’t on Facebook and didn’t know about the cancer returning and chemo.

The inevitable “How was your summer?” question may pop up.

I am not going to say, “Well, five days after school ended I had a PETMRI scan, six days after I was told the cancer doubled and I was on the placebo of the trial. And the seventh day after school ended I began a heavy intravenous chemo which caused me to gain thirty pounds, lose my hair, feel nauseus, lose my taste, spend all day inside out of the sun, got a port put in my chest, my bones now hurt, and I didnt get to do anything I had planned all year on doing.

Other than that, it was good. How was yours?”

So I’m hoping people just say, “Hey Keri! Great to see you! Have a fabulous year!”

If asked, I’ll focus on the love sent to me strangers, support give me to me by friends, a summer of baseball and a championship, a summer son and a new family in our life, my amazing nurses and doctors and staff giving me tips and helping me through chemo, sunsets at the beach, magic fountain runs, giving room trips, full moon meditations, camelback, zip lines, tree top rope courses, a backyard night with magical breathing, and lots of hugs and love.

I spent the morning yesterday looking up bone pain remedies, food shopping and rallying, and by 3:00 pm I was able to get up and head into the pool for the first time in almost three weeks since the port has healed. It was the first time all summer the five of us were in the pool at the same time and it was lovely. My Tomcat Summer Son Joe texts me every Thursday to see how I’m doing at chemo, and said he wanted to come out to visit. He brought his brother with him last night, and we invited my mom and dad and robs parents. We had a lovely last minute barbecue, and I’m so glad I ended my summer with Joe. He had quite the experience here, and saw a family learn how to carry on during the hardest summer of our lives. He was a big part of it, and I remember saying to him the night before chemo started that he could leave if he wanted. I’ll always be grateful that he didn’t skip a beat and said he wanted to stay and help out. He is a special young man, and I’m so glad Quinn has a big brother figure to look up to.

Today I’m going to work on lesson plans and schedules and newsletter and bus list templates. I’m going to try and head to the Giving Room as it has been weeks since I’ve been there.

Tomorrow teachers and staff in my district head to school. We start with what I call the “Pep Rally”, bring food for the food pantry, then head to our buildings for meetings and set up. I’m also opening my classroom for my new batch of kinders to drop off supplies and ease any worries.

I’m still debating what color hair to wear tomorrow… pink? Silver? Brown? Blonde?

May today’s last day of summer be a long slow one, may i get all I need to get done today crossed off my list, and may I continue to heal.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

I’m in the detox bath and have taken sixteen supplements already, and wrote down about fifteen things I would like to do today as I gear up for school.

Do I know how to kick off the weekend or what?

My CA125 markers came back and dropped 3.3 more points. My oncologist said that because I’m in “normal range”, decreases will be harder to see.

I’ll take it.

Something came to me the other day that’s important to share.

It happened while watching John McCains funeral. I caught only a speaker or two, and turned it off after a few minutes of Joe Biden.

Don’t get me wrong, I have respect for how he carried on after so many life shocks in his life, but his eulogy made me upset.

Why?

Because he stood in front of the grieving family and told them he knew how they were feeling, how it was like being sucked into a black hole inside your chest, and it was all consuming. That the pain was sharp and so hollowing. That nothing can ease the pain. That in six months from now everyone else will have moved on but they will smell something or see something and feel the pain they felt the day he died.

Yup.

He said other things too, nice things, but man…

When you are sucked into a black hole of grief, having someone narrate it and say just how awful it is may not be the thing to hear at that moment.

He was putting his experience of grief onto them.

Everyone is different.

Obviously, I think we all know the pain and heartache that comes with death.

Having people speak out and over you detailing just how horrible you should be feeling or they think you are feeling doesn’t help.

Same with cancer.

When people send cards or say, “This must be so hard, I don’t know how you do it.”, it makes you feel a little worse in the next moment.

You may have been having a great day, and suddenly your narrative is painted differently and you think…”Wait…Yes, it is hard. Wow. How am I doing it? This really sucks.”

But when people say, “How are you?”, you get to paint the narrative yourself.

People are storytellers.

Some people love to tell stories that portray themselves as victims, or stories that are sad, or even sadder than your story.

“Oh, you have cancer? My aunt had cancer. She died after a year. It was hard. Chemo was so rough on her….”

Some people tell stories that can fill you up.

“Oh, you have cancer? My aunt had stage four. She is still doing great after twelve years!”

Some people don’t tell stories, but instead sit next to you and just share your space.

Those are sometimes the best shared story moments.

Let’s try to stop saying, “You must be feeling so ______ right now.”…

And instead simply ask how people are feeling.

If you’ve never felt that way because you’ve never experienced whatever brought on the emotion, you’ll have something called sympathy, which is feeling sorry or sad for them.

Instead of saying, “I feel so bad for you…”, sometimes just saying, “I’m here for you” can be so much better.

If you’ve had the similar experience, then that’s called empathy. You’ve been in similar shoes… but not the same shoes, because everyone’s story is their own.

Instead of saying,”Oh, when I had chemo it was horrible. I was so sick and couldn’t work and man, I thought I was going to die”, it may be more helpful to say, “I had chemo too. How are you doing?”

I know Joe Biden meant well.

People usually do.

Words have power. They can either bring people down or lift people up.

And sometimes, no words are needed, and simply sharing space and sitting quietly can be beautiful and healing too.

Today I’ll try to cross items off my list, get Quinn an outfit or two for school, and maybe fix my cracked phone screen. It’s day three, and I’m hoping it’s an easy one.

Today may all of our words lift others up, and continue to heal.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

PS. Here is a great video from Brene Brown, who I absolutely love.

I haven’t updated as much here. The higher chemo kicked my ass a bit, and I’ve been busy gearing up for school. I did much better than anticipated though, and went in yesterday for another round.

I didn’t sleep much last night, but I’m up and in another detox bath.

We decided we would watch and wait on the neulasta, If my count drops below a 1, then I’ll take it. It’s a concern as I am around small children, and I am immune compromised due to chemo.

I was worried about the neutrophil count being low and the neulasta issue… until I just checked my ANC levels from the past two years.

Yesterday I was 1.47.

I’ve been as low as 1.07 during the height of flu season and sailed through. I’m actually higher than I was for several months when I was on Ibrance.

I stopped sploosh this summer, but I think im going to go back to it. It’s a great way to get Manuka honey, cinnamon and dark berries in to my body. Donnie’s medicinal smoothie is a bit rough on the taste buds, so I’ll make that as an afternoon happy hour drink.

When I went to the meetinghouse deli by my school yesterday, I realized it was my last time going in for breakfast and lunch for chemo, as now I’ll be working all morning at school and heading in for afternoon sessions. The ladies there sent me on my way every time and didn’t charge us. The fact that they made my food with love and gave it with hugs and bible verses helped me more than they know.

When I got to the cancer center, I saw another patient who I’ve bonded a bit over wigs. I wore my new pink one, and she loved it. I realized something recently that made me upset. When I was told about chemo starting and losing my hair, I freaked about my hair. White women spend a lot of money of dying, cutting etc. When thrown a cancer diagnosis, and chemo, and hair loss, women panic and spend whatever is needed to try and retain a “normal” look.

Wig places will also tell you that you can be reimbursed by insurance, so you don’t feel as bad spending a lot of money.

Here’s the thing.

When I was speaking to a girlfriend who is African American, she was like…”You spent HOW much??? And that’s SYNTHETIC?? Girrrrrl… let me tell you about online wigs…”

For some women, wigs and weaves are commonplace. My eyes were opened and I was given tips and ideas, and I went online and was shocked at the price difference.

Shocked.

And angry, because man… the wig I got online is fabulous, I watched a video on how to cut the front lace, and I love it. It’s obviously a wig because it’s pink, but I may try another one in an everyday color just to check. If it’s just as amazing as the one we spent an obscene amount of money on…

When I’m better, I’ll help white women with cancer learn how to navigate online wig shopping and save a boatload of money.

Thank God for my girlfriend and her hair secrets.

Apparently when you put black and white together…

You get pink hair.

I handed out the pumpkin muffins and bread and it was a hit. I love the staff at the cancer center. They’ve become my friends, and I always feel happy to see everyone.

I was proud of myself when I asked for the orders for me to be changed from One anti nauseau med to another, as well as having the courage to refuse a medication. It’s hard to advocate for yourself, and patients don’t like to look like we are questioning. But we know our bodies best, and if you’re at a good place, you will be listened to when you speak up.

I love my nurses.

The port was accessed easy peasy, and there were no steroids at all this time. I sailed through the taxol and ended earlier than ever as I only had the one chemo agent. I’m still waiting on my CA125 Numbers, but they will be lower.

Rob was my rock again, and he may not slip glass slippers on my feet, be he is totally my Prince Charming.

I cried a little when I was sent a picture of Morgan at her middle school orientation. I was sad I was in a chemo chair instead of with her, but that made my blood pressure start to rise so I had to put the picture away and breathe.

We left the hospital, I had a salad at home, made rob a birthday lasagna, and went to school for the last minute items. Then we had dinner, and I took a two hour detox bath while listening to a podcast and getting back to peoples messages about cancer help.

There have been a lot lately…

A… lot.

I keep praying that the science breakthroughs happen sooner than later, and that western and eastern medicine and naturopaths and healers all get together and work in one circle.

Today I’ll keep detoxing, go for a walk, head to dress barn for an outfit for school, get kids a new outfit, and then rest.

Maybe even suggest Dress Barn change it’s name to Dress Boutique because really… what women wants to say they went into a barn to get clothes…

May today bring more healing for everyone who needs it, a super low CA 125, higher ANC, and great dresses.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Five.

That was my sign.

We got up early and went to the deli. The Meetinghouse Deli across from my School hasn’t charged me for our food in my chemo days, but I’ve never been there when rob goes to pay as I usually Run across the street. When they just handed it to me and melissa hugged me, I just cried in her arms as she said she loved me and gave me an extra hug from maggie.

I took all of my week four pills, before breakfast pills, breakfast pills, steroid, Pepcid, and benedryl. My stomach is a walking pharmacy.

We headed right up to the cancer ward and I got weighed. You see, the first four letters of carboplatin is carb, and chemo and the steroids have decided to add almost thirty pounds. When they took my blood pressure it was a little high, but only because I saw that number on the scale and thought about how I have no school clothes I’ll fit into, as I got rid of my maternity clothes last year.

Only took ten years.

The port was accessed, blood drawn, then the tube was capped so I could head to the doctor downstairs. We still hadn’t decided which chemo to do.

I looked at Rob immediately when the doctor said “Five”. I honestly has no clue of I was going to to the higher dose of carboplatin with taxol week one, taxol alone week two, then off week three. Even while her assistant while her assistant was talking to me, I said in my head…”no… maybe… okay… no… Jesus take the wheel.”

When my doctor came in, she asked my decision and I still didn’t have one, so more questions. Then it happened.

I kept hearing the man from Oregon in my head saying,”The tumor isn’t smaller, Keri. It may have mutated and isn’t working and in fact may make it worse. Your treating it blind. Get the Caris biopsy.” So I took a deep breath and and said that to my doctor. She surprised me by saying that yes, we are in a way treating it blind, but the insurance company will only pay for one biopsy now and she wants to wait until after treatment finishes as that is when it can mutate as well. Again I said in my head, “Jesus help me”. Then the doctor said, “But Keri, only about five percent of treatment courses will change after a biopsy.”

I felt it in my gut and cried and looked and rob and said,

“That’s my sign. She said five.”

My doctor looked at us like we were crazy, but then again, she gave me the same look when I said I was zip lining this week, and I explained I asked for a sign and she gave it to me. I wanted a word, like when Donnie Yance said ,”Sherlock”, or a number. The number 5 carries a lot for me.

She nodded her head and said that was interesting… and the carboplatin medical name ends with a five, and the test result we are waiting on to see decreased cancer activity ends with a five, so that was three fives.

I could not believe that she said three fives, as you all know three is also my number.

So, Jesus took the wheel in the room.

I said ok, we will do it, even though the CA125 test we are waiting on wasn’t back and wouldn’t be for a few hours. If it didn’t drop, I was in trouble. My doctor again said that she feels that the fact the lymph nodes keep getting smaller and are harder to find is a good indicator it’s working, and my breast have fibrocystic bumps and part of the tumor could be those guys, and she just had a similar patient who when she went for the PET scan, what they thought was tumor was actually those cysts.

We left and went upstairs and began the long chair time. I visited my friend who told me she is struggling with her chemo, but it is working and has five sessions. Another five. I talked again about the port and said how much easier it was.

My vein whisperer gave me a card from her granddaughter who I taught years ago, and she wrote if I could get through her, I could get through cancer.

The other patient who talked to Mae about the port and hands out candy came and hugged me and said she was proud of me. She is the cheerleader in the arena.

We out on the socks with the frozen blueberries and peas and made it through the taxol. We got the call and were shown the CEA125 dropped again like we had prayed and had faith it would. Then the carboplatin began it took twice as long to push.

When it was over, we asked to video tape the removal of the port so I could show my friend how much easier it is. We did, and she saw it.

I shared it yesterday on Facebook I’m a teacher, and I have other people asking me about it.

I’ll share it here too, as I know ive got others here debating about a port.

We went to the wig place and I picked up color weaves for kindergarten color days, then came home and slept on the couch with rob. We woke up to his parents making dinner, which was a huge blessing.

Our summer son Joe came out with his mom. She got to see where he spent his summer, and Quinn got a birthday present that his manager Patti got for him. It made his whole birthday to have Joe back and get the gift.

I also invited Paula because I wanted her energy with me on this day I started the higher dose, and I wanted Joe’s mom to meet this other woman who loves him as much as me. Joe had two extra moms this summer, and it felt great to have him home with us. He is coming back out in October for another visit, and may bring his sister. We already can’t wait.

Im detoxing hard, took a bath last night, in one now, water bombing like crazy, and going to try to get in a mile. I read in the book, “Girl, Wash your Face”, that eventually if a friend breaks promises

You stop trusting your friend. Be your own best friend and keep your promises to yourself. I promised to walk four miles a week, so I’m doing another mile today.

They said the carboplatin will have a delayed hit, and day five may be hard.

Not if I detox like crazy these five days.

Please pray I tolerate the new plan better than anyone has ever tolerated it, my numbers continue to go down, and the pesky tumors decide it’s time to break away and leave.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

We decided to get away from it all.

ALL of it.

We went to camelback for three days. The first day was the indoor water park.

The kids swam and I read a great book. Girls, get this book. Seriously.

An old friend from college happened to be there, and i haven’t seen her since I graduated Cortland. She found me and we had the best hug.

But yesterday?

Yesterday was amazing.

We woke up and went to the buffet breakfast. I came back from getting my egg omelette to find quinn with a huge donut, eggs with ketchup… and an overflowing bowl of TRIX cereal. A cereal chemical shitstorm full of roundup. He looked at me and said, “Mom! I cant remember when I last had TRIX!”

I can.

November 17, 2016.

I decided we would do everything we could to live the life BC, before cancer, so he I let him eat whatever he wanted. He had three spoonfuls and was done. It was too sweet.

We headed off to the mountain adventures, and I put band aids and protective covering over the port. The first thing we did was the zip line. Rob and quinn went first, then the girls, then I was left alone.

I told the young kids working there that I was given weeks or months to live two years ago, was in the hospital a week and half ago getting a port, in the midst of chemo, and look at me now.

(I told that to everyone I met at every ride, and their eyes always opened in shock. I showed them my port, and told them their is always hope, and God has me, no matter what.)

Then the man counted down and I didnt jump.

Sometimes it takes two countdowns to take a leap of faith and fly.

I taped it to show my parents what I did, and when I posted it, people started commenting on an orb that followed me and was jumping around. Some say orbs in pictures are actually angels in motion. Well, mine was all over the place, either freaking out at what I was doing or cheering me on.

Then we went to a mountain coaster that was so fast, even with its breaks on. You ride it by yourself, and hearing my kids screaming as they flew down the rails deep in the mountains was scary and amazing. I taped that one too, and apparently I giggle when I’m terrified.

Next we did the alpine slide, and rob flew down the mountain. He said he remembered a slide like that at action park, and he totally relived his childhood.

We headed off to the outdoor water park when we finished, and on the trolley we sat by a woman who grew up in Valley Stream and another woman who works at Memorial Junior High, where I attended school. Valley Stream always finds me.

The outdoor water park was great, although chilly at 74 degrees. The kids all went on rides and had a blast. As we left, we all went on a ski chair lift to the top of the mountain. It was breathtaking, and we said maybe we’ll come back in the winter, depending on what happens with me.

We left at 3:30 to head back to mountain adventures for the treetop rope course. They gave us harnesses with two big safety clips and a zip line pulley attached. We went on a practice course and learned all the safety rules.

When it was my turn to try a rope swing like Tarzan, I fell and landed on the metal rope, straddlewise. I almost quit, but I knew I had to do it.

We went into the woods and began. Maddie lead the way, then Morgan, me, Quinn and rob. Pretty soon maddie and Morgan were ahead of us, with Maddie helping Morgan. She told us she taught Morgan her mantra…”Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

I totally understood and said only when hanging from ropes a hundred feet in the air can you say that, although I prefer, “Jesus help me…”

Rob and I ended up tag teaming with Quinn. I would go first to show him and teach him the best way to do it, and if mommy the chicken could do it, so could he. Then I would wait high up on the platform and rob would help hook him to the wires. We would both give him tips and encourage him, with an occasional cheer from far away from his sisters. He would make it across the obstacle, I helped him hook both big hooks to the red safety wire while he hugged the tree, and we would wait on the platform for rob.

We hugged a lot of trees yesterday.

At one zip line I had a momma deer and her dawn five feet under me watching me. It was amazing, and deer were everywhere.

After three and a half hours, we finished. It was truly the best memory, with all of us working together as a team to complete the obstacle and stay alive.

Not a big deal really, since we do it every day with the cancer.

We had no phones, and were totally focused on helping each other. Every school should do this with different levels for each grade at the beginning of the year. Some kind of team building activity where everyone discovers how important we all are to each other, and how we can all help each other.

Not having phones was amazing. I need a locker at home. I need to come home, put the phone in a locker, and not take it out until dinner is done and I still have an hour before bed.

It was freeing.

When we finished the course, we walked down the mountain and passed more deer. I thanked then for their antlers that are in my Chinese herbs.

When we got to dinner, I turned on my phone and had about fifty Facebook notifications, private messages, and a whole bunch of texts. If I didn’t get back to you yet, I will.

Maybe by tomorrow.

Checkout is at eleven today, but we’ve decided to pack the car and then just stay here all day. The kids can use the water park, we can eat dinner here, and then head home tonight.

Life is for living.

I’ve got Quinns birthday tomorrow, then the big appointment with my oncologist and then chemo, where we decide if we go for the heavier dosage.

I’m sure she will think I’m crazy when I tell her what I did here, and then say…”So, yeah, I think your tolerating this dosage just fine and can try the heavier one.”

We will see.

But today, I watch my kids all have fun and stick together, while holding robs hand.

Not a bad way to spend a day.

We needed this.

May today bring more memories, joy and healing to us all.

In Jesus’s, name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

What a day.

I went into school with Morgan and quinn and spent hours there putting up shiplap contact paper. I wanted to mute the brightness of the room and make it more calm and soothing.

My friend Mary stoped by and dropped of cool birthday crowns for the kids, as well as three tickets to the aquarium. She truly has the biggest heart. She is the president of the high school PTO, and man, if parents would back her and help with fundraisers… oh, the things she would do.

We left for Morgan’s dentist appointment and I quickly ate the lunch I packed. Food is starting to not taste great and leave a bad aftertaste, which I was warned about. I chew gum after eating now to try and deal with the aftertaste. As Morgan got called in and walked through the doors by herself, I sat and chewed gum and breathed.

Then?

Something crunched in my mouth.

My entire filling came out and I felt a hole in my tooth.

My heart dropped.

Usually it stinks to have a filling come out, but for a cancer patient?

It means getting clearance from the oncologist to get work done, possibly going on antibiotics… nothing is easy.

Morgan finished and I went in and hugged her dentist and the staff. Her dentist looked and affirmed the filling came out, and another staff member said I was in her dream. That’s the fourth person to tell me I’ve appeared in their dream the last month.

I must be a dream hopper at night.

We got in the car and a flurry of phone calls began between me and rob and the hospital. Rob spoke to my oncologist, she approved it and said no metal fillings, my friend Darla got me right in to see my dentist, and at 4:00 pm I was in the chair getting a needle in my jaw hinge.

And here I was thinking I had a week off this week from needles.

When my dentist finished, I ran to pick up my kids from my moms. As we left, I saw in my neighbor’s driveway some cars. Mouth swollen and numb, morgan with cotton in her mouth, we decided to stop by, and I’m so glad we did.

My “summer cousins” were out, and I had grown up and spent summers with Laurie and Scott. We don’t get to see each other much, and I love them. Laurie brought out her daughter who is Morgan’s age, and man, did Morgan need that. She hasn’t had any play dates in weeks, and it was so good to hear her laugh. The kids all played and I sat in the front porch I spent many summer days in and laughed with this family I love. Their mom is my “Aunt Judy”, who watched us all do crazy things together. I was so lucky to have a second family growing up, and so glad God put them in my path on a hard day.

We decided Morgan deserved ice cream for dinner, and as we left, Quinn lost a tooth.

I kid you not.

The three of us had teeth issues in a matter of five hours.

We all got ice cream, morgan and quinn had fun with Kaitlin as I told her all about funny stories growing up, how her mom was my idol, I loved her hair, how I love barry manilow because of her, afternoons watching Luke and Laura on General Hospital…

memory lane can be fun to walk down.

We dropped her off and came home.

Then I got home and got an email from Donnie saying he doesn’t want me to do the new chemo protocol, it could be too hard on the system, and he wants me to stay the course.

Which means emails to my oncologist at ten, and she immediately got back to me that we can stay the course or we can discuss how the new data shows this new plan is more effective.

Which means I sit at my dining room table and cry, trying to figure out what my gut is telling me to do.

I’m scared about the bigger dose at once, but I want to do whatever will give me the best chance at a very long life. I’ve been tolerating it so well, so maybe it won’t be as bad. What if Donnie is right, and it has already mutated and this plan induced the factor of competitive release which means the DNA damage from the carboplatin will strengthen other cancer cells to take the place of the ones there now and those will be even stronger and I will have exhausted the carboplatin option…

What things go through YOUR mind at ten pm?

This is hard.

I love my doctor, and rob and I are going to continue the discussion with her. She is a scientist and researcher, so she is always on the cutting edge. Dr Snuffleuffugus wasn’t happy about the higher Carbo either, but with both his and Donnie’s support, maybe I’ll do better.

I just don’t know.

What I do know is today Maddie dances in a talent show, and I have friends coming to learn how to meditate and breathe at my house tonight. I left out a jar of water last night for the ascension of Mary today. I’m Lutheran, but the thought of it was nice and made me feel better as I went to sleep.

Today, may answers come to me, more healing happen, the tumor begin to shrink, and no one have any tooth issues.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

Birds and signs.

Yesterday I wrote on my Facebook page about the rough night I had, and the long talks with God I had asking for signs. Do I go with the even more aggressive chemo plan which ultimately gives me less chemo sessions? Is this chemo even the right one? If the cancer has flipped, it could make it eventually even stronger.

When I woke up, I got my answer in the form of a Facebook post written by Patricia Polacco about how her mom defied odds, had the same chemo drugs as me, and miracles happen if you believe. It was sent to me by someone I haven’t seen since sixth grade.

We all stayed in comfy clothes yesterday. I actually did pretty well, other than port soreness.

Maddie spent hours on her summer homework assignment. I so strongly disagree with that, by the way. I dont care that she is in advanced classes. Those kids work so hard all year, then most get jobs in the summer. Let’s add on homework during vacation so their stress level never gets lower, so we can really prep them for the real world, because you’re never too young to be treated like an adult, right?

Rant over.

The other two helped me with laundry and stayed in pajamas all day as well. Rob worked on his paperwork and drawings. I looked at classroom bulletin boards and new curriculum. It stinks that it rained most of the weekend, but it made it easier for me to not feel so bad my kids did nothing while watching me recuperate.

By the time dinner rolled around, I rallied. Rob and I worked together and made dinner, and the sun finally peeked out. As we worked, a red bird flew by our window. I felt called the beach, and everyone got changed to go see the sunset.

I texted my dad to see if he wanted to meet us, and he replied my aunt was out and to stop by. We were going to head right to my parents, but instead, I felt we should go to the beach first.

It’s because another sign was waiting for me.

When we pulled into the parking lot, I saw it.

You see, 67 weeks ago, (I know because Instagram kept track), I had a rough day. I went to the beach, and a woman with two parrots was there. It meant something to me, as I had been recently told that I am surrounded by angel wings, and when I see birds, know those are my angels telling me I’m doing ok. I even took a picture of the birds.

I never saw them again…

Until last night.

The day after I spent all night asking for signs that I’m still on His path. I practically ran out of the car before Rob stopped it. The kids came over with me and we talked to the owner of the parrots. I asked for another picture, and she said I could hold one. I declined, as I just had surgery and am nervous around birds. Maddie stayed back as well, but I got a picture with Morgan and quinn.

I felt more peace as we left the beach.

We saw my aunt and uncle, my mom saw my port for the first time, then we treated the kids to ice cream.

I slept a little better last night, and plan to head into my classroom today. Morgan and Quinn will help me carry things in, and I’ll start to make my list of what I still need to do.

I’m doing my best to remember that all the children need the first week of kindergarten is to play, have fun, make friends, learn routines, and feel safe and loved. Everything else can wait.

Today is also a day where more emails will be sent, appointments made, and more healing will happen.

Today may I continue to feel peace and heal, and follow the path He has planned for me.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri

I’ve been updating every day on my private Facebook page but not so much here. To quickly catch up…

My summer son Joe left but we still text, so we are ok. Quinn is sleeping in his bed now, and calls it “Joe’s bed”.

My veins are shot. It took four sticks to get chemo in last week. My vein whisperer Jean said it may be time for a port. We also discovered I taught her granddaughter seven years ago, and we also know several other people.

Six degrees separate us all.

I started my Donnie Yance protocol and man, it’s intense. Some weeks I’m swallowing seventy supplements, others only fifty. I’m drinking teas and apple cider vinegar mixtures and eating olives and sauerkraut and taking detox baths every night and meditating and vagal tone breathing and…

It’s a lot, but I’ve got my friends helping me. IV got it down to a system, and will work it out when school starts.

If you look at me, i look really good. Weekends are hard, but by Sunday afternoon?

I’m rallying.

That’s it, that’s all you’ve missed.

Here’s today’s Facebook update…

“So Keri, what’s it like to get a port and hear an update and get chemo all in one day?”

Exhausting and full of tears, hugs, handholding and blessings.

Getting a port for me was a big deal. There are some complications with me I haven’t shared. I’ll share one now.

Pain medication and anesthesia don’t reeeeeeaallly work on me. So all of the helpful advice of, “You won’t feel a thing”, or “you’ll be asleep in twilight and won’t remember…”

Not so with me.

They took me in right away and my nurse Emily got “T”, their unit’s vein whisperer. Even with me telling them about warm compresses and blood pressure cuffs and tight tourniquettes, and me jumping up and down in my hospital gown and keeping my arms down low and water bombing… it still took two sticks and ended in my hand. I cried in relief when it was over, and T said she almost did too.

Rob held my hand and kissed me goodbye as I rolled away to the procedure room. I had a kind, funny, and compassionate team. I told them how lidocaine doesn’t work well and I need a lot, and they were generous. They had to give me three doses of the anesthesia and I was still wide awake for it all. I ended up with two doctors placing it, and felt the tube being snaked through my chest, along with pressure and pushing and pulling. I cried at one point and asked for someone to hold my hand. The nurse came right over, and I did my vagal tone breathing and made a game of lowering my blood pressure. I kept it around 136/86 the whole time. The time it ended?

11:11.

When it was over, I went to recovery and rob came. They saw I was totally alert and doing well, and I was able to leave at 12.

I hugged my nurse Emily goodbye and we walked to the cafeteria. We got some lunch and I felt a little self conscious as we left the port “accessed”, which meant I had a tube coming out of my chest. Talk about surreal. I ran into Kim, one of my special nurses who walked me through my first biopsy and is my friends sister in law and we hugged.

We finished lunch and walked to the cancer center. I got all of my oils and breads from the car and cooler of peas and luggage bag and cooler of water. I made zucchini blueberry bread with lemon glaze, and a zucchini chocolate chip bread. I wanted to hand it all out as a thank you.

Rob carried it all and didn’t complain.

My special nurse Heather ran out and we hugged. Have I said how much I love nurses? I’ve got the best.

I started handing out all of the essential oil roller bottles to the receptionist and nurses. I gave out lavender, lemon, peppermint and frankincense and everyone got to choose. It felt great.

In the waiting room, an older woman saw I had a port and proceeded to tell me how she could spot a wig a mile away and how horrible her port was and how one time she accidentally ripped out the IV attached and ended up infected with blood everywhere. I say in shock for a second, then said, “That’s really not the story I’m looking to hear today…”

It was like when I was first diagnosed and everyone would say…”Oh, my ____ has breast cancer. She died after two years…”

Not my story.

We each have our own, thank you.

My appointment went well. Hermina gave me lots of hugs and tips on port care. She also told me there are several patients now who go to them and tell them all about how they follow me on my blog, Facebook, Instagram, and how much hope and energy and information I share. It was nice to hear.

Dr Stopeck came in and wore a mask because she has a cold. I said…”Oh! I have an oil for that!” And gave her a few bottles. She was so happy I got a port and said everyone should have an Port as it makes everything easier. I said she sounded like a true oncologist with a bit of Oprah thrown in… “YOU get a port! YOU get a port…” and we laughed and laughed.

She said my lymph nodes were harder to find and definitely smaller. My breast tumors did not feel much smaller, but she agreed they felt more bumpy, or “nodular”. She said it could be the tumor starting to dissolve from the outside in, and that blood flow with chemo won’t get to the inside until the outside dissolved. My tumor markers went from something like fifty five to thirty nine, which is good. My white blood cell count dropped to lower 4 range, but it’s still good.

Based on how well I am tolerating it, chemo is changing. More aggressive , I think. I’ll be getting more carboplatin with the taxol week one, only taxol week two, and two weeks off. Side effect is more nausea and vomiting, but research is showing higher dose of Carbo is more effective. I also lessen risk of a reaction with less frequent doses of Carbo. We discussed how Donnie Yance said the ringing in the ears and temporary hearing issues I get is from the copper on the Carbo and that’s why we have to detox quickly the kidneys, as the kidneys are the gateway to the ears. My doctor seems more comfortable with me adding Donnie and I’m glad. He is looking for excellent oncologists to recommend to his patients and mine is one of the best.

We went upstairs for chemo and had to go in quickly because my port was bleeding. I ended up in a private room with a new nurse, Ronnie, who was so kind. We cleaned up the port and I was amazed when we accessed the tubing. We both wore masks and it was the craziest thing to see a tube with blood coming from my chest.

While I waited for my labs to give me the “all clear” for chemo, I went around and handed out my oil roller bottles. I sat with my friends mom who was in the room next to me and showed her my port. We talked about a lot, I gave her the zucchini blueberry bread with lemon glaze and the zucchini chocolate chip bread, along with one of each oil. Hermina stopped up for more hugs and Rob had already sliced up bread for her and my doctor.

My new labs were good and we started the anti nausea drugs then chemo. Rob did the whole peas and blueberries and socks and ice chips, along with the special tea that Donnie said to sip during chemo.

My vein whisperer Jean came over and told me her granddaughter who I taught was telling her how I used to read Junie B Jones and she loves reading because of me. It felt good to hear.

Chemo ended, I gave the recipe to Jean to share, and we left. It was a nine hour day.

We got home and my dad brought the kids home. My brother rob and sister in law Krista took Morgan and quinn to see movies and some other adventures and my kids loved it. Maddie chaperoned her camp kids at splish splash and was tired. They asked me all about the port, my day, and saw pictures. They all gave me “side hugs” last night and extra kisses.

I told them I’m like Iron Man now..

But call me Iron Mom

I took my Chinese herbs and my evening pills and then went gingerly into a detox bath.

My day was done.

Thank you everyone who texted and sent messages. Even my Tomcat Joe sent me a message at 8 am. We miss him, and I joked how I almost used the hot sauce we bought him.

Today I’ll be in contact with Donnie’s people about the new chemo plan. De Snuffleuffugus emailed me last night his concerns about the toxicity of Carbo and to let him know immediately if neuropathy sets in, and he will change the formula.

I love him. I even wrote to him I love him.

I’m feeling more confident that my team is strong with Dr Stopeck, Dr Snuffleuffugus and Donnie.

I’ve been up in some pain from the port, and will probably hop in the detox bath in a minute, and begin the pill regime. I’m in week two, so only about 53 pills in a day for the next two week.

Easy peasy.

May today bring more cancer breaking away, more healing everywhere, and peace.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri