It’s that time of year again…

Boise’s Race for the Cure is only two and a half weeks away and this year although our lives are very busy this year, I am so excited to set some time aside to represent an organization I care so much about. The services, funding, and support that are available to women at all stages of their journey because of this great organization is nothing short of incredible.

If you live in the Boise area and have not already joined a team, we’d love for you to be a part of ours. Just go to KomenBoise.org, click on the Race for the Cure link, click on “join a team” and search for our team name and click “Join”. It’s as easy as that, it’s a GREAT cause, and we’d LOVE to have you with us to celebrate!

This year my husband and I were also a part of this years race campaign. I’ll post on that more later, but bellow is his “story” and his “I race for”… Can I just say that I am a VERY luck woman.

Written by: Brock Cassity

As a co-survivor you have a hard time relating to other people. From the outside world people say “oh you don’t have it tough, she does”, but in reality… it is tough. As a husband it hit me hard, but in different ways and it changed from day to day. Some of the hardest were the emotional heartbreaks of watching your beautiful wife lose pieces of her that made her who she was like her hair and her pink-peachy colored face that was once full of joy and life turn dull and grey and full of sickness. It hurt to see her so sick and in pain.
Everyday my stomach was in knots while I did my best comforting her and financially providing; yet at the same time I felt like I could do nothing. It’s was impossible to completely understand what she needed or what she was going though, because I wasn’t the one who was physically going through it.
Our faith in God, trust in each other and a whole lot of love is what got us through. We stood our ground during the hard times and it paid off. Nicole is now over a year cancer free and is as strong (and stubborn) as ever. The memories of the rough times will always be there, but the good that came from it outweighs the bad.
I was lucky, she beat cancer and I am blessed in that I get to come home to my beautiful wife and mother to our 3 year old daughter. To those who’ve lost that- My heart aches for you. To Cancer- One day you are going to lose and I hope we live to see the day where all of your victims can stomp you into the ground and keep you away forever. 
I race for my beautiful wife, Nicole, to show her how much I stand behind her and will always be there to support her. I also race for my daughter, Morgan, in hopes that she lives a happy, healthy, and cancer free life.  

Baby makes 4!

I just got back from my doctor appointment and I am excited to announce that this holiday season will be complete with a new member of our family! My official due date is November 14th so that makes me 9 weeks and 1 day.

It’s amazing what difference a year can make. I remember this time last year I was in medically induced menopause and dealing with symptoms like power surges (hot flashes), insomnia, ZERO libido, and I’m sure my husband might add mood swings to the list. Needless to say, while going through all of that I really worried about how well my ovaries would make it back out of it and it didn’t feel like the possibility of having another child on my own would ever be possible again. Menopause is HORRIBLE! Be nice to your mothers, wives, aunts, whomever is going through it… other wise they might just kill you!   

If we didn’t get pregnant by this coming summer, we had every intention to start the adoption process and we were pretty excited about the idea of it. I don’t know if adoption is still something that our future holds (we’re ready for what ever blessing God wants to bring our way), but right now we are very excited about the little blessing living inside my belly.   

It’s funny how very different I feel about this pregnancy than with Morgan. I just want a happy healthy baby. I don’t care about the sex… just health. This baby is truly a miracle and we feel SOOO lucky to have him or her!

I’m so excited to say… BABY MAKES FOUR! 

God is so good and I can not wait to see what other good things this year brings. Happy Tuesday!

Love,

Nicole

What is Love?

What is Love?

In the beginning love is more of a connection. A desire to get to know more about this person. A curiosity that makes you want to know everything there is to know about the other. You hold onto their every word like poetry. You have a need for their presence so strong, that missing them makes you sick to your stomach. It’s when you  see each other next the passion is so overpowering that fireworks go off inside of you at the sight of them and your body tingles at their touch.

At your wedding, it’s being so nervous you want to vomit, yet the second you connect eyes you see the other with a smile bigger than you’ve ever seen them smile, with wet cheeks, and a consistent stream of tears gliding down them. It’s trusting them with your future and knowing that where ever you end up… as long as you’re together it will be worth the wild ride getting there.

It’s the moment you decide that the timing is right  to start a family. The excitement, yet fear. Then finally the comfort in knowing that you have each other to stumble through it together.

It’s telling the one that you love that you have a deadly disease, that you are scared, and that your future is uncertain. It’s them countering with a hug so full of devotion, yet so full of passion because they too fear that they could lose you.

It’s facing that fear together, as a team. And if one get’s knocked down, you’ll fall down together.

I have a confession… a cheesy one at that. Some moments I find myself inspired with a burning desire to sit down and write. Different things trigger it be it a song, a dream, a memory, or in tonight’s case… a movie.  Before I let this confession out I will call myself out upfront. I am an absolute hopeless romantic. I am also the type where my mood can be easily swayed by things as simple as a song, a story, or yes… even a movie.  Tonight I watched Letters to Juliet (YES I KNOW… I am THAT cheesy!) and it got me thinking about Love.

I am very much the type that thought once I got married the wooing and sweeping the other off of their feet would have only just begin. That we’d be 80 years old walking 1.5 miles per hour leaning on one another for support with our feet only shuffling along, because lifting them off of the ground could risk a fall. I pictured him referring to me as “His Bride” after 50 years of marriage. Then reality crept in. He’s dodging a shoe being thrown at his head after an argument and somehow “My Old Lady” doesn’t sound as romantic as “My Bride”. It’s funny, but sometimes it takes looking back on my illness, my wedding, or the early days of our relationship to remember exactly what it was that led us to our life as we know it.

My marriage now is by no means as romantic as it was when we first started out and only on special occasions does the other take the time for surprises. Although we are no Romeo and Juliet we are one thing and that’s Real. Moments like tonight make me realize that the same desire to punch my husband in the gut is fueled by the passion that brought us together. If I didn’t care so much about him the thought of beating him some days wouldn’t be so desirable. I’m only kidding about beating him part… the actually doing it part. The desire… now that’s still there! 

Sometimes that passion can be fueled by other things and once the feeling of being loved falls out of the equation, I think we as women fill that passion tank full of frustration, anger, maybe even a little regret. I have a friend in whom I think the world of. Right now she is going through one of the hardest decisions of her life. After 10 years of marriage her and her husband have decided to walk away and take separate paths. Although I do think that many throw the “D” word around far too easily, in her case I don’t know if there is any other way for the two of them to be happy. When one person has completely shut the other out both as a friend and as a partner and refuses to explore ways to make things better… you have no other choice than to go your separate ways. I do believe that marriage is worth fighting over… (that’s why my husband and I are so good at it… the fighting part), but her situation has opened my eyes to another side of cancer. One that is very, very ugly.

I will be the first to admit that there is always two sides to every story and that there is so much of it that I do not know. But what I do know breaks my heart. My friend and I were diagnosed just a day apart, yet our stories and cancers are very different. Like me, she is a mom with two beautiful little girls to fight for. The biggest difference is I am considered to be in … dare I say it… “remission” where she is still very much in the heat of her battle. She was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. Like me she initially chose chemo and although at times I felt as though the chemo was killing me… hers literally was. She went from running marathons to not even being able to lift her own head off of her pillow. She was only given, at best, 4 months to live so she chose to go off of the chemo and try her luck going a different direction. If she only had 4 months to live she didn’t want to spend it deathly ill and frankly, what did she have to lose? She chose to go a more natural route by dramatically adjusting her diet  and today, although she still has stage 4 cancer… she’s ALIVE. She’s not sure what the future holds when it comes to treatments, but right now she is stable and that is a great place to be.

The even harder part to fathom in this story is that although I believe that in the beginning her marriage had the same passion, fear, and love that Brock and I had when I was diagnosed, our situations were very different. Although there were small moments of “what if’s” 90% of my journey was knowing that I was going to be okay. That I was going to live. My odds were in my favor. Hers were not. Although I feel like kicking her husband in the junk when I think about their current situation, the more rational side of me forces me to sit back and try to see it from both points of view.

I can not even imagine being told the news that my husband only had 4 months to live. To figure out what my future was suppose to consist of when the person I’ve always envisioned sharing it with will soon by cut from the picture. She was 27 at diagnosis. Together they had two very young children and I can only imagine the weight he felt on his shoulders. The pain, the confusion, the anger, the fear, the anxiety. To filter through all of those feelings and to feel the biggest low you’ve had to of ever felt in your life and then for that end not to come.

See to me this is where the story should be that “Happy Ever After”. Where their new love story can begin, but for them, more heartbreak laid ahead. I will be the first to admit that I do not know her husband… not even slightly. I have met him only once and he seems like a nice guy, but even in that short meeting it was very apparent that their wasn’t much of a bond left there. I don’t know what happened, what “clicked”, or what “went wrong”, but in my head the only way to make sense of this madness is to come up with a reason. So that’s what leads me to wonder if all of that emotional trauma lead him to completely and entirely, emotionally numb himself towards her. Maybe it’s just too hard to go through those feelings again so instead of working through the tough feelings,especially the possibility that although she is okay now…  only God knows what the years ahead hold. Instead of having to go down that road again, to toy with those thoughts and feelings,  I wonder if he’s shut them off completely?

I know that the months ahead for my friend are going to be far from easy, but I also see a day when this will be a distant memory of the past and I truly believe that if anyone can beat stage 4 cancer, she can. I admire her and look up to her so much and it makes me so sad to see someone so courageous put on a tough front, but when you look into their eyes you see that there is a lot of pain and hurt resting just bellow the surface. The eyes never lie.

I also know that if you can persevere through a cancer diagnosis, you can do anything you set your mind to. To every closed door, another one opens and I can not wait to see the blessings and prosperity that her future holds!

I love you girl!

Nicole

Staying Connected

Every month the local CFR girls try to get together for a night to catch up and the opportunity to stay connected. Tonight only two of us were able to make it,  but I’ve never regretted making the time and effort to come. There is something to be said about connecting with people who understand you on a level that no one else can. When you go through an illness or catastrophic event like cancer, it forever changes you. When you undergo treatments like chemotherapy, you don’t come out of it the same. Sometimes when I am talking about a change in myself that I’ve noticed since chemotherapy and I’m explaining it to someone who’s never personally gone through it, I feel like they think I am being melodramatic or a hypochondriac and that I am using my treatment as an excuse to this madness. Tonight I was talking to my good friend, Melissa about my new bouts with anxiety and  how certain things seem to really trigger it like finances and feeling rushed or unprepared. She totally got it. I didn’t feel crazy telling her what I expect caused it, because she gets it. She understands that even after the treatment is over, you are forever changed. Our girlfriend Dani had an amazing analogy of just this. She told us a story about how it’s like you’re running in a race and getting cancer is you stepping out of the race to catch your breath on the sidelines. Life doesn’t slow down, you just see everyone passing by. Then you finish treatment and your hair grows back and you start to look healthy again so people start calling you back into the race. The problem is, you’re different, you’re changed. You can’t keep up with the race and part of you doesn’t even want to.

That’s kind of where I’m at in my own personal race. Since going back to work especially, I feel like I am back in the race, but slowly getting lapped. I look at all the lessons I learned in the past year and all of the things that God has put a passion in my heart about and I wonder if I’m even at the right race. I see other runners rushing by so fast that my hair moves with them, yet as soon as they pass everything turns into slow motion and I see on their backs words spelling out different directions I should be taking in my life. For some reason though, I’m hesitant and maybe even a little scared to take the first step.

It’s like that old wise-tale about the man who is promised a big fortune from winning the lottery and after years of not receiving it he questions God about why that is and God simply answers, YOU MUST BUY A TICKET FIRST MY SON!

I am so blessed and grateful to have my job back and I know that right now it is important to help my family out in whatever way I can financially. I also understand that it’s necessary to get me to where I’d like to be.  Maybe it will be months, maybe it will be years, but I know that I won’t get to where I want to be if I never take the first step. The easy way would be to just continue the current race because I know the scenery and I’ve raced in it before. The path to my passions, however, is on new land. Land with steep hills and  mud puddles. No one said running with mud caked to your shoes would be easy, but then again if it were, people wouldn’t be living with so many “what if’s” now would they?

When I left my date with Melissa tonight some of the feelings I felt were inspired, empowered, understood, and encouraged (just to name a few). That is what staying connected is all about. Keep people in your life that make you feel this way. Don’t waste your time hanging around people who make you doubt yourself or leave you with a negative outlook on life. We were not put here on this planet to just be ordinary. Each of us have gifts and it’s our choice on what we do with them. I feel like I got breast cancer at such an unlikely age for a reason. I know that because of my struggles and hardships I can now reach out to and relate to people I otherwise would have nothing in common with. I feel that my wisdom from all of this is a gift and it’s my job now to figure out what I am supposed to do with it.

My resolution this year was to help make our financial situation better, but that’s not good enough. I realized on my drive home tonight that although I am improving our current situation by going back to work, I am still just jumping back into the same old race. I know this race and it’s within my comfort zone. It’s a race I can settle for and be content with, but it’s not a race I am passionate about. So in addition to that…

TODAY…

Right this minute…

I AM ON MY MARK…

I AM SET…

…I have officially taken my first lunge across the starting line to my new race. A race of self discovery, of new lessons, and a race of purpose.

Wish me luck!

Back to work

Back to work-

If you don’t know me, I am a planner. I have to have a game plan for everything.I mean everything. Don’t get me wrong, I can totally wing it, but only if winging it was part of the plan. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in the last year and a half is that no matter how solid your plan can be, if God has a different plan, His will win. Never in a million years did I think I would have to battle cancer and never in a million years would I have thought so much good could come from something so horrible. Trust me, it definitely wasn’t in the “plans”. Not my plans anyways.

This week is another example of a change of plans. Last week I returned to work as a travel agent and this week will be my first week back full-time. I went back full-time because right now my family needs the extra income to pay off debt and to help make ends meet. To say this return was bitter-sweet would be a total understatement. I am incredibly lucky to have a manager that thought enough of me to put up a fight to get me back, but on top of that the other ladies in the office were genuinely excited and relieved to see me return. It definitely made a hard decision a little easier. I am also lucky to have an incredible mother-in-law that thinks the world of my daughter and loves spending as much time with her as she can. It’s a huge relief on my heart to know she’s in great hands while I am unable to be there.

I feel silly to be so heartbroken over such a frivolous thing, but I am. I hate that I have to go back to work, but I refuse to sit back and watch my family collapse financially when I am healthy enough to step in and help. I know this isn’t the path I planned on walking down, but I have to trust that this path was necessary to lead me and my family in the direction of a better future.

 

It’s been too long!

I know it’s been FOREVER since I last posted on here and part of it is because I kept going back and forth over whether or not I was going to keep this blog around and if so, what direction I wanted it to go in. I’ve been struggling with how I could keep this going as a “breast cancer blog” when I am no longer undergoing treatments, I’ve gone through all of my surgeries, and my hair is growing back.

After lots of thought I’ve decided that I find blogging therapeutic and even if my readers no longer find my posts interesting and worth reading, I still get some good out of it. So… you’re STUCK with me. It may take me a while (since I’m still learning how to work all the codes and only by trial and error) but eventually I’d like to transition my blog from a “breast cancer blog” to a blog about life. My life BECAUSE of cancer, my new outlook, thoughts, and views now that I’m transitioning from a patient to a survivor. So bare with me. I promise to eventually get this back up and going again and with more frequent posts.

For those who’ve kept reading and checking back… Thank you! I appreciate you taking the time to look. If there is anything you’d like me to write a post about, anything you’ve had questions about, or maybe just wondered… ask. I’m an open book and I feel like putting it out there publicly is worth it if it helps even just one person looking for the answer or someone to relate with.

Thanks for reading.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Casting For Recovery

On the morning of June 4th I found myself waiting in the Home Depot parking lot to meet up with 6 other participants that were from the area to make the 3 1/2 hour drive to Challis, ID in 2 vehicles instead of 7. I got there pretty early and found myself with some time to kill. I’m not going to lie, I was really nervous, yet very excited all at the same time. I knew the next couple of days were going to be intense. I had heard from a previous participant that fly fishing lessons would only be a fraction of what I would be taking away from the experience. I was in for an emotionally deep experience and my heart raced in anticipation.

Casting for Recovery is a non-profit that puts together retreats all over the US for breast cancer survivors. In a weekends time they give 14 lucky women who are chosen by a lottery draw, a crash course on the ins and outs of fly fishing. Why fly fishing? Well that’s simple… the motion used while casting mimics the physical therapy exercises many survivors are given after surgery.

The ride up was a lot of fun. In my car rode myself, Cat, Charley, and Melissa while Lisa, Becky, and Julie followed in Lisa’s car. What a fun ride. These ladies were an absolute riot! We didn’t waist any time and dove right into some pretty deep conversation. I found myself going from incredibly nervous to feeling completely accepted and understood and that 3 1/2 hour drive flew by!

The ranch that hosted the retreat is called Living Waters Ranch and it’s about 4 miles outside of the small town of Challis on 90 acres of breathtaking property. It’s located in a canyon and you are literally surrounded by mountains. It’s probably one of the most tranquil places I’ve ever been and the few moments I had alone to take it all in, I never in my life felt closer to God.

The rest of the weekend was filled with great conversations, yoga, casting and bug lessons, fly tying, fabulous meals, nature walks, and an evening of heartfelt, deep, and emotional conversation that took us from new friends with at least one thing in common to a sisterhood like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. The only word I can think of to explain the mood is raw. We shared our deepest fears, struggles, complications, and our worries of uncertain futures. Some of the things shared have never been spoken out loud until that night. I don’t think I have cried that much for not only myself, but for the pain of others, ever. The most comforting thing about the evening was that not once did any of us have to explain ourselves. Not once. Everyone there understood and we didn’t have to feel bad for feeling that way and we weren’t ridiculed by someone who could never understand even if they wanted to. It was a beautiful thing. It was very, very liberating. I felt as if an invisible weight I had been holding on my shoulders was finally released. I felt understood for the first time in a year. I felt free.

By the time Sunday morning arrived I woke with a bittersweet taste in my mouth. I was excited to get home to see Brock and Morgan (I really missed them), but I was also scared to get back into the hustle and bustle of everyday life and I wasn’t ready for the weekend to end. I had learned and grown so much in those short few days that I was afraid that once I got back into my every day groove I would forget about those lessons and lose touch with the things that while away from distractions, were really important to me. Plus,  lets face it, I was surrounded by women who understood me. Women who accepted me. The real me. The new me. The damaged me. The me that has only opened up to them on that level about a disease that has consumed my life for the last year.

The ride home didn’t go nearly as quickly as the ride there, but the conversation was  great. The first week home was kind of hard for me. I was a homebody and felt like keeping to myself. My outgoing drive was stalled and I couldn’t get it out of park. Luckily for me, Melissa and Lisa were feeling sort of the same way so they coordinated a dinner date and it was exactly what I needed. Since then I’ve seen a lot of the girls on more than one occasion. It’s very comforting to know that although we’re taken out of our sheltered atmosphere and thrown back into every day life, we still have each other and that I am grateful for!

So ladies… thank you so much for such an amazing experience. More than anything though, thanks for allowing me to be a part of this unique sisterhood. You girls are not friends… you’re family.

I love you all!

Dear Cancer-

***Warning, the letter bellow is emotional and pretty deep. I have received more feedback from this post alone, than I ever anticipated receiving. Although most were encouraging there were a few that seemed worried for me. I wanted to say that although not every day is a bad day (far from it actually) there are still days that were and still are rough. Unless you’ve ever had to fight for your life, I don’t expect you to understand, but please do not assume that when someone allows others to see their vulnerable side that the strong person you once viewed them as is no longer there. Everyone has good days, bad days, great days and horrible days. When you are fighting for your life though, sometimes those horrible days can be blocked out because you are set in warrior mode, determined to come out the other side alive. Just because those wounds don’t surface right away, they are still there, open and waiting to be mended. Everyone’s journey is different and some may never fight off the emotions that I did and others may find themselves fighting a much longer, harder battle. I didn’t post the post bellow in hopes that it would make those who’ve never been in my shoes to understand. If that happens, that’s just a bonus. I posted this post, along with everything else I’ve ever written in hopes that maybe, just maybe, I could help one other person going through some of the same struggles that I have and feel like they are not alone. That is what allows me to be so open, that is what encourages me to be so raw, and that is my honest hope. Enjoy! ***

Dear Cancer-

Sometimes I am so frustrated with you, I could scream. Who the hell do you think you are? Seriously? You come into people’s lives, innocent people’s lives and you take any and everything that you deem fit. You mutilate people and give them horrendous scars. Some that clothing can cover and others that leave huge gashes on ones soul. I hate that I feel like I can’t escape you. In some ways you are like a prison. Yes I am free to roam the prison gates, yet every where I turn your presence is always lingering. I hate that because of you my breasts were cut from my body. Cut flat off my freaking body! I hate that my husband couldn’t even look at my chest after surgery. Maybe it was because he was scared, maybe it was because it was a broken piece of me that he couldn’t fix, but it killed me knowing that I am and will forever be “damaged goods”. I hate that I had to pump my body full of poisons. POISONS,  because you’re such a tricky little bastard that even with science as far as it’s come, in your world there is still MORE that is unknown. I hate that you took my hair, my security blanket after battling years of acne. You left me feeling naked and more vulnerable then I have ever felt in my entire life. I hate that the person in the mirror was someone I couldn’t even recognize. I looked frail, weak, and I had the body structure of a 13 year old boy. I hate that I missed out on precious moments with my daughter because I had to hand her off to family because I was too sick to get out of bed or the moments I was left with her alone and we had to camp out all day in my bedroom watching cartoons because the thought of getting out of bed was exhausting. She deserved better than that and YOU, YOU made me weak. You made me weak and feel like a bad mother. I’ve never felt so helpless until you came into my life.

I hate that while my best friend was planning her wedding and running her errands in preparation for her special day, I was on the phone with my mortgage and finance companies pleading my case. That I couldn’t live up to the expectations of maid of honor and that I let people down. I hate that at a moment where I really wanted to be happy for two people I care so much about, my happiness was tainted, because I was scared I was going to lose my life. I felt forced to always put on a happy front in fear of bringing others down. But more than anything, I really hate that while I should have been practicing my speech I was instead writing my living will. I HATE that Cancer and I hate you!

I hate that even now, while in remission, the damage you’ve done is everywhere. I hate that even after a HUGE out pour in financial support from those who felt compelled and touched by our story, you STILL continue to strap our finances to the point I literally feel like I am suffocating. I hate having to decide over groceries or an anesthesiologist bill. And your first cousin, “Insurance Company”, yeah… I hate him too. I hate that I look boyish and that every time someone makes a joke about it my confidence takes a huge hit. I hate that when I hear other people complain about their “big” problems I think to myself, “Pshhh you think that’s hard, you should try having cancer”.  And more than ANYTHING else, I hate that you continue to toy with other people’s lives. Even innocent children. Shame on you Cancer. You make me SICK! I hate that when I learn of a struggle of another one of your victims it’s as if those wounds I’ve been nursing are ripped back open. I really hate that as if my fight wasn’t enough for our family, within months of my own battle you seen it fit to set up camp in Brock’s aunt, Linda’s, ovaries.  You truly are a selfish piece of crap.

But then I am reminded of the things that I have learned along the way. The lessons and friendships that are invaluable. I’m reminded that you somehow came into my life and cleared out the haze that I had been living in. That all of the BS was stripped clean and I had a clear vision of what really mattered in life and of the relationships that were worth investing in. You taught me to let go of the things that were not working and you have tested my marriage more in 4 short years than some are tested in a lifetime. Because of you I know that the man I married is not only my best friend, but he’d also do anything for me. That he is willing to lose everything he’s ever worked for if it means I get to live. And if someday I lose this battle with you, Cancer, at least from here on out I know what matters most to me in life and that I refuse to welcome the toxic things back into my life that, in years past, only drug me down. And the biggest thing you’ve showed me is how powerful and life changing it is to open your heart to God and that once you do, those tough paths are not nearly as tough as they would have been if you were walking them alone.

So Cancer… You and I are not friends, nor will we ever be, but thanks for cutting all the BS in my life and showing me how precious it truly is. You showed me that even when a Doctor disagrees with my decision, I have to make choices that are right for ME and that I refuse to let this second lease on life go wasted. And Cancer, should you choose to challenge me to another duel, you better be ready for one hell of a battle!

-Signed -your rival- Nicole Cassity

Lucky

Here’s a fun little story I got in an email. … Enjoy!

….something to bring a smile to your heart

Mary and her husband Jim had a dog named ‘Lucky.’   Lucky was a real character.

Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would
warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would
help himself to whatever struck his fancy.   Inevitably, someone would
forget and something would come up missing.

Mary or Jim would go to Lucky’s toy box in the basement and there the
treasure would be, amid all of Lucky’s other favorite toys.     Lucky
always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular
that his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer.   Something
told her she was going to die of this disease……in fact;  she was
just sure it was fatal.

She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders.   The
night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky.   A
thought struck her….what would happen to Lucky?   Although the
three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary’s dog through and through.

If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought.  He won’t understand
that I didn’t want to leave him!  The thought made her sadder than
thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had
anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks.   Jim took
Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just
drooped, whining and miserable.

Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital.   When she
arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn’t even make it up the
steps to her bedroom.    Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch
and left her to nap.

Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn’t come to her when she called.
It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed.

When Mary woke for a second she couldn’t understand what was wrong.
She couldn’t move her head and her body felt heavy and hot.   But
panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem.  She
was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned!

While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to
the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in
life.

He had covered her with his love.

Mary forgot about dying.   Instead she and Lucky began living again,
walking further and further together every day.   It’s been 12 years
now and Mary is still cancer-free.   Lucky.   He still steals
treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his
greatest treasure.

Remember…..live every day to the fullest.  Each minute is a blessing
from God.  And never forget….the people who make a difference in our
lives are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or
the most awards.   They are the ones that care for us.

If you see someone without a smile today give them one of yours!
Live simply.. Love seriously.   Care deeply.   Speak kindly.   Leave
the rest to God .

A small request

All you are asked to do is keep this circulating.

Dear God, I pray for the cure of cancer.
Amen

All you are asked to do is keep this circulating, even if it is only
to one more person, in memory of anyone you know that has been struck
down by cancer or is still fighting their battle.

Reconstruction -Round Two

For the last 4 months I’ve been going through the breast reconstruction process. My last surgery was back in January where they put expanders into place. Expanders are basically empty implants with a rubber seal at the top where the plastic surgeon can penetrate a needle through to fill it with saline about 50 cc’s at a time every week until the expanders were at a desired size. Once at that size I had to wait three months to give my skin time to get use to the expansion of my chest. In my case we could only get them filled to about 200 cc’s each. To give you a better idea of what I am talking about 237 cc’s = 1 cup. So there you have it, my new tata’s are not quite a full measuring cup in size. As far as a bra size goes, they put me at about a small B cup. The reason we couldn’t go larger is because my skin was starting to get pretty thin where the expanders were located. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal now, but it would have gotten worse with age because the older we get the more skin loses its elasticity.

Over all I think I am going to be really happy with my new size. It sure beats not having any at all and from what I can see of them, they seem to fit my 5’1” frame a lot better than my previous C cup. Now that the actual implants are in, they feel a lot more comfortable than the expanders did. I hated the feeling of the expanders because of the thick rubber seal at the top. They never felt very natural to me and where the seal was it was almost uncomfortable. I remember waking up from surgery when they first put the expanders in and almost feeling sick to my stomach at how unnatural and foreign my chest felt on my body. Now they feel very natural and they are actually pretty comfortable.

If it weren’t for the skin grafts to construct new nipples/areolas I think I’d feel great. They took about six inches of skin from each side of my groin to use for the skin grafts and that’s what is the most painful. Any time I move my legs, in any direction, it pulls and irritates my 6” long stitches on the inner part of both of my legs. Because of this I am taking Norco just so walking and sitting isn’t painful. I do pretty well on Norco, but it makes me really, really sleepy. I can’t even get a full view of what my new “girls” look like because I have gauze stitched into the skin grafts (aka my new nipples and areola’s) that can’t be removed until my post-op appointment on Monday. So unfortunately that means I can’t shower or bathe until then either. Nope, just sponge baths for me. I know… you’re jealous!

At one point I thought I was just going to get tattoos where nipples would have been. I wanted to do something cute like a little daisy flower or something, but after one of my breast cancer support groups, I changed my mind. It was a group dedicated solely to reconstructive surgery (since there are lots of different ways/options to go about it) and one of the ladies there who has already been through the process said that at first she didn’t think going with out nipples would be such a big deal, but as time went by and all of her emotional and physical scars started to heal, she regretted not going through with the whole process to make her look the most “normal” again on the outside. I could identify with that and thought that I would probably find myself feeling the same thing years down the road. So here I am, sore groin and all, but I’m happy with my decision. Especially after looking at lots of other woman’s finished products and how natural and real they truly look. In fact, unless you knew what to look for, most would never guess they were not the real thing. After all that I’ve gone through in the last 9 months and the half a dozen other scars from it that are no where near my breasts, I am looking forward to some normalcy. In fact, I can’t wait to be all healed and for this whole process to be a distant memory of the past.

Until then…

Lots of love,

Nicole Cassity