It was 1:00 AM. I woke up, shivering, in a cold sweat. Something wasn’t right. I got up to go to the bathroom, and then the shaking really started. My head hurt, and I was cold, yet hot.

“Oh no!” I thought. “I have what the kids had!”

Every mom picks up bugs from their kids sometimes, and every mom knows she’s not allowed to be sick, . . . ever. If mom gets sick, then who takes care of everyone else?

Hopefully every mom has an amazing husband, and obedient children, who pick up the slack when she’s not well. But most moms want to do as much as possible, even when they are sick, precisely because they want it done ‘right’.

My dread at being ‘under the weather’ was more than just not wanting to let my family down, though. I was on new chemotherapy drugs, which suppress my immune system, and knew that it could be bad if I got sick. I rationalized that my kids’ ailment only lasted for two days, and so, with any luck, I wouldn’t be down for long.

On day two, after a constant cycle of chills, fever, vomiting, and blacking out, when my temperature reached 104.5, we decided to call my oncologist, even though we knew what she would say. Sure enough, she wanted me to go the emergency room. Even then, Branden and I debated if that was really necessary.

Lab tests showed that I had an infection in my body. I got some IV antibiotics, and was sent home with oral antibiotics. We had done the right thing, now I just had to wait to get better.

Two days later I was still chilling and spiking high fevers. Branden called the doctor again, and she summoned me to Huntsman Cancer Hospital to be admitted. By then, the cultures from my emergency room visit revealed that the infection was in my kidneys and blood. I was septic. This was definitely not what my kids had. I was now in a fairly serious medical condition.

I spent four days in the hospital battling fevers, migraines, stomachaches, and more. After feeling well for so long, this was miserable. My mother-in-law and Branden made sure things ran smoothly at home, while I lay in the hospital, sick, sick of being sick, and lonely.

A few years ago, when I was in chemo, I became quite ill, and was hospitalized for nearly a month. Those memories came flooding back, from the uncomfortable bed, to the view from my window, and the smell of the hospital. Mostly though, I felt sad. I knew I would be home soon, but I missed my family terribly. I reflected on the uncertainty we have in life, and knew I wasn’t in complete control of my health, no matter how much I ran, or ate the right foods.
I began to improve, and knew I would go home shortly, so I reflected on what I should learn from my sick week. At the hospital, I didn’t have the clothes, bed, food, or slippers I wanted, but that wasn’t what mattered. What stung was that I was robbed of time with my family.

There is no thing, accomplishment, or experience that can take the place of the ones I love. This summer I will value the happy time I have with my children home from school. I will play with them, snuggle, be more patient, and appreciate them more. I will never forget that family is my greatest treasure, and there really is no place like home!

Last week our family decided to blow off school and work, and head to California for some sun and sand. I reminisced aloud to my four children about the Spring break trips our track team took to Newport Beach when I was in college. Our coaches saved money from some of our other trips during the year, so that our week-long trip during Spring break, with a few low-key track meets to make it legit, was special.

On the second day with my family in the hotel I searched for the nearest grocery store, and discovered a “Ralph’s” right around the corner. Something seemed familiar. It wasn’t until later that afternoon, as we navigated our way back to the hotel, that I noticed the name of the road we were on.

“Jamboree Road!” I blurted out. Then I saw a sign for UC Irvine, the site of our track meets when we were on our Spring break trips all those years ago.

“This is right near the place we used to stay when I was in college!” As we rounded the bend I looked up at our hotel, seeing it with new eyes.

“This is it!” I exclaimed. “We are staying at the exact same hotel our team stayed at on all our Spring break trips in college!”

There had to be hundreds of hotels we could have picked in the area, but somehow my husband unknowingly booked the one that held a treasure trove of memories for me.

“And Ralph’s! We always went to Ralph’s when we came!” I pointed out the trail that we ran on down by the river, and the hill we climbed to gain access to the track off in the distance.

Back in the hotel I recognized the pool, restaurant, and lounging areas on the room floors where my teammates and I talked, flirted with the guys, stretched, and thought about upcoming races, or planned what we were going to do for fun that night.

Once I dyed my hair dark brown in that hotel because it was a rainy night and the girls in my room were bored. On one of the spring break trips I intentionally ignored a boy on our team I was pretending to not like. I recall card games in our rooms long after we should have been asleep, and going to the mall, beaches, and restaurants nearby.

I almost drowned at Newport Beach on one of our trips. Inexperienced with the ocean, a few of us naively went out too far and got caught in a riptide. “Friendly surfer Tracy” with the gold tooth dragged me back to the shore and said earnestly, “My name is Tracy. I want you to always remember that.” I always have.

Somehow, despite the fact that we played so hard, ate all the wrong foods, and slept so little, we always seemed to get our best times at those track meets. The coaches didn’t put much pressure on us. We didn’t plan our strategy, scope out the competition, or visualize, like we did at other, more important, track meets. We liked to bragged about things like eating a hotdog an hour before running the best race of our lives, or showing up to our race just in time to get to the starting line, and then beating our personal record. I remember running in a race that was not my normal event, and outkicking a girl, whom I later found out was an All-American. My freshman year I watched in awe as a guy on our team qualified for the Olympic Trials. There was something magical in the air at those spring break track meets.

Being at that hotel now, years later, with my husband and four children in tow, seemed so strange. I wanted them to know all I experienced there, yet there was no way for them to understand what those memories held for me. Life was so simple then compared to now. That was before I knew who I would marry, before kids, before much responsibility, before cancer.

I’m happy, but not carefree. I worry about my kids, my husband, and my health. We went on this trip to get away from real life for a week, and somehow we ended up in a place that caused me to reflect more on my life. It didn’t seem like a coincidence to me.

I thought back to the worries I had when I was in college. I worried about grades, boys, and my next race. I didn’t have much money at all, but I didn’t really worry about that.

I marveled at those races we ran over spring break. Why did we run so well when we seemed to not prepare for those races? Isn’t preparation usually a good thing?

Then I realized, we were prepared for those races. We had been training all season, and were experienced in racing. We knew the best strategies for our races from hundreds of previous track meets. It wasn’t necessary to know the competition before we raced them. In fact, sometimes we were more confident in our abilities to beat the competition when we didn’t know how good they were supposed to be.

Back in college, I had no idea what the future would hold, but I didn’t worry too much about it.

Now, I am still uncertain about the future, but too often I let myself worry about the unknown. When I am living in the moment and take a look at my beautiful children and amazing husband, I am truly happy.

I’m in a battle with cancer, but I feel more capable when I don’t worry about the competition. For now I am winning the race.

I’m more prepared for challenges than I used to be. I have had hundreds of them in the past. Worrying more is not the answer. When I place less pressure on myself, but rely on wisdom gained from life’s experiences, I free myself up to succeed. Confidence, not fear, is the answer.

Looking at my family, I am more confident than ever before that I know how to make good decisions. Having an element of the unknown in the future makes life interesting and full of possibility.

My children may not have known that college girl, who was the younger version of their mom, but I know her. She was fearless, and she’s still inside of me.

I continue to feel well since my recurrence of cancer in my right iliac last summer. At that time, and after much research, and flying to Houston for a second opinion, we decided that I needed to get on Palbociclib, a new drug that was still in it’s final trial phase. I was a perfect fit for this targeted therapy, which is just a daily oral drug with minimal side effects, and so I began the process of trying to get on the trial.

I decided to take another drug while I went through the process of getting on Palbociclib, because I wasn’t sure how long it would take, and I didn’t want to go untreated for too long. I’m glad I did, because several months later, I still wasn’t on Palbo, and I was becoming more concerned that I would not be able to get on it.

Recently, I was so happy to hear that Pfizer had received FDA approval for the drug I needed. I assumed that meant I would be able to get it because my doctors recommended it for me. I was disappointed to learn that they had changed one little criteria for receiving Palbociclib. It was only for women who had not been on prior endocrine therapy, which ruled me out. I looked for alternative routes to getting access to this drug, and kept running into brick walls.

I went into Huntsman Cancer Hospital a couple of weeks ago for a PET/CT scan and was relieved to find that I still just have that one little spot of cancer, and it does not appear to have grown. Everything is stable, so that is great! I was so happy that my interim drug has been working. It helped me to not feel so anxious about getting onto Palbociclib right away, but I still wanted to eventually get on it.

Well, last week it was confirmed to me that holding out for Palbociclib was the right thing to do, because, surprisingly, my insurance decided to pre-approve me for this drug. I couldn’t believe it! It would normally cost about 11,000$/month, but now it will cost me 5$/month. I think we can swing that! I am grateful that despite the long wait, I am finally on the treatment that I felt right about from the beginning. And the waiting has not caused the cancer to grow.

Today I got a blood test, and then picked up my new fancy drugs. I will take two drugs in combination. The Palbociclib alone costs about 500$ per pill, without insurance! I take it for three weeks, then I will take a week off, so that my white blood cell count won’t get too low. The other drug, Femara, I will take daily. Palbociclib is a chemo drug, but the side effects are usually minimal, and it should be something that I can take for a long time, as long as it is working for me. I am hoping that I will continue to feel as well as I currently feel, which is totally great!

Thank you for those of you who continue to ask how I am, think of me, and pray for me and our family. We really are all doing quite well right now and just enjoying life. I feel really grateful for all that I have, for the happiness of my family, and for my health and strength, and the great treatment that is available to me.

Just as I was about to enter the elevator yesterday at Huntsman Cancer Institute, I saw a familiar face walking toward me. I couldn’t place the face until I looked at the nametag affixed to his shirt. I said his name out loud, and he recognized me at the same time. It was an old teammate from my University of Utah Track days! I think the last time I have seen him was shortly after Branden and I were married.

He is a healthcare professional at Huntsman, which makes it a little odd that I haven’t run into him in the last 3 ½ years, but it’s a big place. It was so great to see an old friend after the somber task of chatting with my oncologist about my health. And this particular guy is a funny man, who always kept the team entertained, so that made it even better.

He went down the elevator and walked out to my car with me while we caught up, very briefly, on how many kids we each have, etc.. Suddenly I recalled a memorable incident when I learned something about goals from him, back in the college track days.

Here’s what happened (and if you are reading this, and were on the team back then, you will remember this, and know exactly who I’m talking about!):

It was Cross-country season, and our team was scheduled to meet with the sport’s psychologist about setting goals. (We were sometimes forced into going to things like this against our will. Attendance was NOT optional!)

The rest of us nodded along compliantly to get through the experience as quickly as possible, while the sport psychologist handed us pencils and paper to write down some of our personal goals for the season. She told us that our goals needed to be obtainable, and something we could control.

After a few minutes she asked if anyone would share one of their goals. “Funny guy”, who was also a good runner and the team captain, raised his hand. “My goal is to win Conference this year.”

The psychologist reminded him that he couldn’t control how fast the other guys in the conference would run. She added, “If you don’t reach this goal, which you can’t really control, you will feel like you failed. You need a goal you can reach.”

“Funny guy” was all serious now. He was no longer nodding and complying. He said, “No. My goal is to win conference. That has been my goal all year, and it’s possible. That’s my goal,” he stated stubbornly.

She countered authoritatively, “That can’t be your goal! You can’t control it, and you will need to set a different goal for this exercise, because you aren’t following the guidelines I taught you about goals!” She was clearly exasperated about his defiance of her goal rules, and she wasn’t backing down.

For the next several minutes, two very determined individuals argued back and forth about what his goals should be. As the conversation heated up, the rest of us smiled nervously at each other, slightly entertained, and slightly bugged that they were both taking this so seriously.

The sports psychologist would not budge. It was her job to teach us about making achievable goals so that we could all feel good about ourselves. She had undoubtedly dealt with student-athletes who felt discouraged when they didn’t reach their lofty goals.

But “funny guy” wasn’t giving in either, and though he wasn’t being mean, he was not in a funny mood.

It ended when he stood up and said, “Look, my goal is to win conference. Period. And yes, I will be disappointed if I don’t reach my goal, but that’s okay. That’s my goal.”

With that, the sport’s psychologist threw her hands in the air and gave up. She was genuinely mad, but “funny guy” was dead serious. Some of us were giggling by now, but we quickly wrote down some “obtainable” goals.

When I reminded him of this incident, he laughed and said that he felt badly now that he had given her such a hard time. “Funny guy” is also a nice guy. But I thought about it my whole drive home.

Goals are our own. Nobody else can make them for us. They have to be personal, or they can’t be effective. There are some good basic guidelines out there for setting goals, but my theory is that if you always stick with “obtainable” goals, you may just be disappointed later that you didn’t really go for it! And guess what? If you set lower goals, you almost certainly won’t reach your potential.

Just minutes before I ran into my friend, I told my oncologist that I had a goal. We were discussing my drug options, and she told me that she felt it was her responsibility to help me continue to feel well.

I told her that I have decided I want to live to be 60. I said, “I know it’s not something that we can necessarily control, but I just want you to know, as we discuss my treatment, that I am looking at this with the long-term in mind. That’s 19 more years.” I motioned to Macy coloring in the chair next to me, “She’s not even five yet, so that’s where my mind is. ‘Feeling well’ is important to me, but it’s secondary to fighting the cancer.” She nodded with understanding, and I was glad she didn’t tell me that my goal was ‘unobtainable’ for someone with stage 4 breast cancer. And if I achieve that goal someday, then I will set a new goal, which may, or may not, be ‘obtainable’.

Goals make us happy. I don’t think it matters as much what the goal is, as how it motivates us on a daily basis. My goal of living to see 60 gives me hope. It makes each day seem less daunting when I plan on seeing my youngest graduate from college, and hopefully meeting a few grandchildren someday, rather than constantly worrying that I need to prepare my kids for the worst. It also makes reaching 60 seem possible, which motivates me to eat healthy, exercise, and choose my treatment plans with wisdom.

Like you, I’m happiest when I’m progressing. I will always have some personal goals, which are less measurable, like improved patience, or noticing the needs of others around me. I have some specific goals, such as organizing my home, practicing the piano, or preparing for a race. As a mom, I have goals about what I want to teach my children. But because of my beliefs, all of my goals hinge on my eternal goal of returning to my heavenly home with my family one day. Knowing my goals helps me determine how to spend my time each day, and helps me to be happy with the direction I am going.

As you make goals for the new year, I challenge you to be thoughtful and determine what you really want out of life. Then make your goals your own, and you will be driven to succeed. You may occasionally be disappointed if you don’t reach the high expectations you have for yourself, but you will find joy in the challenge, and in the new heights to which your goals bring you. Obtainable, shmobtainable!

The last few weeks I have been trying to figure out what I should be doing. I thought I had it all figured out after we went to Houston, because I felt really good about my plan to get on a CDK Inhibitor trial as quickly as possible. The frustrating part came when I tried to follow through with my plan and found that all options either took longer than I thought they would, or involved more travel on a regular basis than I would like.

I thought of going anywhere in the country to get on this trial as soon as possible, but there is a lot of monitoring when you are on a trial drug, and I would have to travel frequently for that. It didn’t seem worth the commitment for a lot of future travel when I would be able to get on the same drugs closer to home just a couple of months later.

My oncologist at Huntsman, Dr. Buys, did not seem overly concerned with the idea of me waiting another couple of months to begin treatment, but I did not feel comfortable with that idea at all. I had already waited two months, and did not want the cancer to spread any further.

I have to be off all treatment completely for 3 weeks before starting on the trial drug, and so I didn’t know if I should get on another drug if there was a possibility I could begin a trial soon. Also, taking certain drugs would make me ineligible to be on the trial drug. (There are very strict criteria that must be met to be allowed to participate in this trial).

Finally, after seeing all the wheels moving slower than I wanted them to, I decided that I needed to get on something while I waited for this trial. I still feel like it is the right thing to get on the CDK Inhibitor, and it will be available to me at Huntsman (so no travel) within the next 3 or 4 months, but until then, I am taking Tamoxifen. It does not make me ineligible for the trial drug, and it can be an effective drug, although it would definitely not be my top choice right now. But I do feel good about being on something that can fight the cancer while I am waiting. And I am glad I decided to not take any drugs that would make me ineligible for the trial, or that would require me to travel all the time.

The side effects of Tamoxifen are minimal. Basically my body temperature is hotter than normal, and sometimes I feel slightly dizzy, but not too frequently. Really, I feel great, to be honest! I’m still running, and have plenty of energy.

I have also spent the last couple of months reworking my psyche. I spent two years with some hope that I was done with cancer (although I always knew it was very likely to return sometime), but I liked having that possibility that it was gone forever. Now that it has returned, we know it was never completely gone. But honestly, not a lot has changed for me. I’m not starting some crazy treatment that effects my quality of life, and life is going on as normal.

My goal is to continue to feel great and take good care of myself, while focusing on the things that really matter the most in my life. Cancer is not going to steal all my attention and focus. I will go to doctors appointments when necessary, and take the drugs I need to take, but in between those doctors appointments, I am not going to be a patient all the time. I am a mom, among other things, and there are people who need me to be me.

I am a happy person. I am so grateful for the many many blessings I have in my life. I love my husband and my children so much, and they bring me so much joy each day. I have deep friendships and wonderful extended family. No ability has been taken away from me. I feel healthy, strong, and capable of doing many good things in my future.

I will let you know when I am able to start on the trial drugs, or when I have any updates or scans.

Thank you all for loving me and caring about how I am doing. I love each of you, and thank you for the comments and messages of encouragement I have received.

After much planning, and arrangements that included my mother-in-law and several other great friends, Branden and I spent the week in Houston, at MD Anderson, trying to figure out the best plan for me in fighting my cancer recurrence.  We met with a doctor who was recommended to us by multiple people, and I feel like he lived up to his reputation.

When I first found that the cancer had returned I went to my old oncologist, Dr. Buys, at Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake. She really is wonderful, and has been an incredible partner in battling my cancer thus far. I don’t think I would have had two fabulous years in remission without her wise advice and genuine concern for me. But when we spoke with Dr. Buys, she didn’t suggest what we were expecting.

Let me briefly explain metastatic breast cancer. It started in my breast originally, but because it travelled to my bones, that means it has gotten into my bone marrow and found a good landing place in my bones where it grew. At first the cancer was in my spine and pelvis. After all the treatment I received three years ago, we no longer saw evidence of cancer in my body, but doctors mostly agreed that it would pop up somewhere again. We were hopeful that they were wrong, but knew it was unlikely.

Now, eradicating my one visible tumor with radiation should not be a problem. The problem is that now we know the cancer is still circulating in my bone marrow, blood stream, etc., and will land and make more tumors if we don’t treat it systemically (which means my whole body, not just the one spot). That was why we assumed that Dr. Buys would recommend chemotherapy again, but this time she did not think that was the best idea.

According to her, the chances are “miniscule” that I will completely eradicate the cancer, and my best bet right now is to try an approach with less side-effects than chemo so that I can continue to feel well. My type of cancer is stimulated by estrogen, and so trying a new estrogen blocker is one method of holding back the cancer for a while. Many women with metastatic breast cancer switch from one estrogen blocker to the next over time. One drug will work for some time, and when that stops working, sometimes another one will work. This method can go on for many years if you are fortunate, treating the cancer as sort of “chronic” rather than “terminal”.

I have read a lot over the past three years, and I know that this is the recommended treatment plan for someone in my position, but it has been hard to wrap my head around that. I asked Dr. Buys for her suggestion on a more aggressive treatment plan, such as chemo, and she said she would really try to talk me out of it. “Why would you want to do that to yourself?” were her exact words. I respect her opinion very much, but left her office feeling a bit disappointed. We decided to go to MD Anderson in Houston to get a second opinion.

It was a few weeks before I was able to get the appointment with Dr. Valero, but I felt the wait was worth it. I had some time to think about what Dr. Buys said in the weeks leading up to my appointment with Dr. Valero, and felt that if he suggested the same type of treatment as Dr. Buys suggested, I should listen. When he read my medical history and came to speak with me he started off by basically giving me a much needed pep talk.

Dr. Valero stated confidently, “You can live with breast cancer.” He let that sink in for a minute and then said, “You have lived with breast cancer for a long time now.” Just as I was thinking that three years wasn’t really that long, he said, “You had it many years before you were diagnosed, or it wouldn’t have been at the stage it was when it was discovered.” Then he asked me if I had any pain. When I said no, he said, “See?! You wouldn’t even know you had cancer now if we did not see it on your scan. You can run, you can take care of your children, and you can have an active lifestyle with cancer. So, . . . what we need to do, is keep you feeling well for a long time, and give you a drug that will stop or slow the growth of the cancer.”

He then told me that we are at a good place. My cancer is not causing me any problems, and we have several “tools in the toolbox” right now because I have not had many different drugs yet. After discussing some of the hormone blockers on the market right now, he recommended that I try to get into a trial of a new type of drug called a CDK inhibitor. It does not just block estrogen, but actually destroys estrogen receptors. It has had some amazingly effective results in early phases of experimentation. It is usually used in combination with an estrogen blocker, and so it can be a strong line of defense. Some early results are showing a much longer duration of time before it stops being effective than just the estrogen blockers alone. He said, more than once, that if he were in my situation, he would try to get that drug. The CDK inhibitor was something that Dr. Buys had suggested, but when she couldn’t find an open trial right away, she just moved along to the idea of an estrogen blocker alone. But basically they both were suggesting the same thing.

I trusted Dr. Valero’s advice, but could not leave without asking, “So, do we not ever try for a cure then at this point?”

Dr. Valero quickly raised his finger and said, “I did not say that!” Then he said, “If we have good success for a long time with this approach, and we see that tumor shrink, and no new tumors appear, then maybe we will zap it with radiation and hope to get rid of it completely at that point.” I liked his answer, even if he was possibly patronizing me a bit. It has taken me a long time to come to an acceptance of a treatment plan that is not with the intent to cure me, but I can accept this approach much easier if I am still allowed to hope for a cure at some point, . . . and I do.

After several phone calls, I am now likely able to get into a trial at Huntsman Cancer Institute of the CDK inhibitor, plus two other estrogen blockers with it, starting in September. I feel so good about this plan, and that was what I was praying for; something that felt right.

“Living with cancer” is something I have done for a long time, and I can continue to do it for a long time if necessary. And if “living with cancer” is necessary, you can bet that I will live the heck out of my life! I will be the healthiest person you know with cancer, and I will plan on setting some sort of record for the person who has lived the longest with metastatic breast cancer! And really, I will just do my best to live with whatever comes my way, which is all that any of us can do anyway.

Thank you for those of you who helped with our kids while we were gone this week, and for all of you who have sent encouraging messages or who have prayed for us. I am grateful for so many truly wonderful people in my life, for feeling well, for a husband who loves me enough to take me all over for the best treatment, for my sweet kiddos, and for a relationship with my Heavenly Father. I am blessed.

Friends,

We found out about two weeks ago that my cancer has returned. This time it is only in one small place in my lower back, in the iliac bone. Of course we are disappointed that I am no longer in remission, but this is not a huge surprise like the first time either. We have known that it was likely I would deal with this cancer again at some point. We just wished it would have been a longer remission.

Branden and I are still figuring out what my treatment plan will be. I feel great right now, and we are hopeful that I will continue to feel well during treatment. I may, or may not, do chemo. I’m almost certain that I will do radiation to that spot, but there are oral drugs that I may take rather than chemo. We just are not sure right now.

We have one opinion from my oncologist at Huntsman, but have decided that we will take a week-long trip out to MD Anderson in Houston, TX, which is arguably the best cancer hospital there is. We will be going the week of August 18^th, (the first week of school for my kids) and I will have all sorts of tests while I’m there. I should come back with the best treatment plan for me, and some peace of mind that we have done our research and received multiple opinions from some well-respected oncologists.

We are really doing just fine. I am optimistic that I will be back in remission again soon. I thank you all for your love, support, and prayers in the past, and ask for your continued prayers. I am so fortunate to have, really and truly, the best family (on both sides) and friends. I am grateful for my faith, my husband, my children, and I feel strong and happy. My life is wonderful. My only complaint is that darn cancer! Hopefully we can get rid of it once and for all this time! I have learned that all I can to do is ‘do my best’. The rest is in the hands of my Heavenly Father.

I won’t begin any sort of treatment until after my trip next month to Houston. We will keep you posted on what we learn when we get back. And don’t worry, we really are doing fine, I just wanted to let you all know since I have shared this with you in the past. Love to each of you!!

Denise

Click on the link below to listen to a radio interview I did about my battle with Stage 4 breast cancer. My goal was to offer hope to those fighting late stage cancer. If you, or someone you know, is in that situation, please share or listen, and know that there are survivors out there.

http://www.knrs.com/media/podcast-feedback-with-abby-bonell-Feedback/feedback-with-abby-bonnelldenise-neish-24986769/

AF Canyon Half Marathon 6/21/14

Last Saturday I ran the AF Canyon Half Marathon. I have been preparing for it for a few months, but it was hard this year, because I had to train carefully. After last year’s race, I discovered that I had 3 stress fractures in my legs (presumably due to running while taking Zometa, a bone strengthening drug which, ironically, can make bones more susceptible to fractures). I have only been able to run about twice a week, or else the pain in my femurs is too much, and I fear a stress fracture.

I have definitely not been running as much as last year for this race, but strangely, I continue to feel stronger the farther away I get from all my treatment. It seems odd to still be recovering, because I have been in remission for two years, but I’m certain that’s why I feel better than I have in a long long time.

My pre-race sleeping and eating routine was well planned. I woke up at 3:55AM to make it to the bus pick-up at 4:30. I arrived at the top of the canyon by about 5AM; one hour before start time.

The AF Canyon Half Marathon is put on to raise money for cancer patients who can’t afford treatment. I love that all the money goes to that cause. This has been a special race for me because it was the race I trained for during my treatment. I ran it right after I found out I was in remission. It was a difficult challenge to finish such a long race during that time, but it was mentally and physically great for me to have this goal. My radiation nurses were the ones who referred the race marketing guy to me, and he asked me to speak at the top of the canyon before the race started two years ago. They also made a little video about me for the race website.

So many people run in honor of, or in memory of, someone they love who has battled cancer. Many cancer survivors also run this race. The speaker at the top of the mountain this time happened to be the first doctor who did surgery on me. She said that she was running in honor of her patients. I haven’t seen or spoken with her since the very beginning of my battle with cancer, and I made my way over to her right before the gun went off.

I said, “You have done surgery on me, . . . twice.” She said that I looked familiar, and I told her my name. I said that I wanted her to tell her patients with stage 4 breast cancer that there are some who survive. I told her that I had cancer in my spine and pelvis, and that I had now been in full remission for two years. She had tears in her eyes and thanked me for speaking with her. She said that she may have some of her patients call me if that was okay. I said, “Of course!”

The race was beautiful, as always. The air was crisp and cool as we followed the river seven miles to the mouth of the canyon. People wore shirts with pictures of their loved ones with cancer, and there were signs placed alongside the road with messages of hope for specific cancer patients. I stopped at the second water station at mile five, and continued to where I knew Branden would be waiting for me.

At 7.5 miles we exited the canyon, and there were several people there cheering on the runners. Branden met me there and joined me for the rest of the race. I discovered that I was making better time than I thought I would. My original goal was just to be in the 1:50s, but I soon realized I had a chance to break my time from last year, and that became my new goal. I felt strong through mile 10, then I was just trying to keep moving for the last 3.1 miles.

Branden encouraged me a few times, and I was glad to have him with me, but I was so tired that it took all my focus to just put one foot in front of the other. I was still trying to break my time, but I was getting grumpy about it! Near the finish Branden stopped since he wasn’t really in the race, and I looked up at the clock. I was going to beat my previous best time by over a minute! I pushed myself to finish strong, and made it through the crowd of people to reunite with Branden. I was all smiles after I stopped running.

I love this race, and it made me really happy to break my time from last year. I am just so happy I can run, and thankful to be getting healthier and stronger all the time. I have so much to be grateful for!

My Op-ed was published in the Deseret News on May 29, 2014. Click on this link to read it, or just read it below!

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865604071/Breast-cancer-early-detection-message-insufficient.html?pg=all

After Amy Robach, co-host of Good Morning America, shared her breast cancer battle with the world, she resolved, “I will start on a new journey, helping raise awareness about early detection.”

Amy, I’m glad you’re better, and it’s a nice thought, but unfortunately, it’s the same insufficient message about breast cancer that gets repeated over and over again.

When I was diagnosed with “incurable” (metastatic) breast cancer at age 37, I cringed every time someone told me I would make a great spokesperson for this oft-repeated public health message, “early detection saves lives”.
True? Yes, but it’s a slap in the face to someone trying to maintain any shred of hope after a late-stage breast cancer diagnosis. It’s like shouting to a person who tripped, “Watch your step!” Well, it’s too late for that advice. Extending your hand to help seems more appropriate.

After a year aggressively battling my “incurable” cancer, as my doctors called it, I have enjoyed two years of remission with no evidence of disease. My husband and four young children are grateful I didn’t give up hope, even though I did not detect my cancer early.

I still see the billboards – the ones that stabbed like a dagger through my desperate heart when I was first diagnosed. “Early detection saves lives!” Great idea, but for women who are younger, or have no family history of breast cancer, it’s unlikely they will be diagnosed early. Seeing that message everywhere doesn’t do them any good.
Other common public messages, regarding breast cancer, seem to be somewhat of a joke. I’ve seen catchy phrases like, “Help save the tatas!” Or “Save the boobs!” Because having a mastectomy is the worst thing that can happen when you have breast cancer…right?

Wrong. The worst outcome is that you can die from it! I won’t minimize the trauma for women who have a mastectomy, if everyone will stop minimizing a breast cancer diagnosis. It’s not just about boobs. You won’t die from breast cancer that stays in your breast, but if it spreads (which is what defines stage 4) then all of a sudden it’s considered incurable because the cancer has entered your blood stream and traveled elsewhere in your body – usually bones, brain, lungs, or liver. When that happens, the last thing you’re concerned with is whether or not you get to keep your “tatas.” At least the t-shirt with the message “Of course these are fake, my real ones tried to kill me” emblazoned across the chest is more accurate.

Don’t get me wrong, it is better to detect breast cancer early, but can we please start addressing those who did not catch it early, but who also want to live? These women are moms, wives, girlfriends, sisters, friends. Breast cancer is the number one cancer for women, and it’s no joke.

The current dialogue around breast cancer seems to be either that it’s hardly serious enough to be called cancer, or that those diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer are beyond hope. Neither is true.

My message for researchers is, “Spend more time trying to find a cure for metastatic breast cancer – the kind that can kill you.

To doctors, I say, “Don’t take hope away from any patient who wants to fight. Aggressive treatment has resulted in a cure for some metastatic breast cancer patients, but we want more.”

To everyone, I say, “If you are diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, don’t accept a death sentence. There are survivors of metastatic breast cancer. That’s a fact. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865604071/Breast-cancer-early-detection-message-insufficient.html?pg=all

Thank you to everyone who prayed for me to have a clear PET scan. I got the results today, and it all looks good for the most part. But I do wish these things would be more conclusive. There does not appear to be cancer anywhere, but there is one little spot that is questionable. It is in the sacro-iliac bone in my lower back. I have to go back for another scan in two months to follow up on it.

To be honest, I am almost certain it is okay. I know that it is possible for the scans to show stress in the bones, and I did a hard run outside on Saturday (2 days before my scan), so my guess is that is why there appears to be some action going on in that area. I’m not just saying this, . . . I really do think it is nothing.

We have dealt with a questionable PET scan before, and everything turned out fine. It just means that I will have to wait until July to be 100% confident that my body is as healthy as it feels.

Until then, I’m pleased to announce that I have now been in remission for 2 years, and I will assume that is going to continue until I hear otherwise. All is well!!! Love you guys!!!

Because of Him

I don’t mind saying that I had two amazingly wonderful grandmothers!  My Grandma Howard (Doris Jean Howard) was a spirited, yet always proper, country girl!  She lived in Missouri her whole life and was raised by her loving grandparents after suffering abuse as a young girl from her step-father.  She married my grandpa at the age of 17 because he was going off to war.  My grandparents were the happiest couple I have ever known.  They were poor, but made such a happy life for themselves.  They were fun and wonderful parents, and grandparents, and were loved by everyone in their little community.  She was a seamstress her whole life, working from home, while my grandpa had his own garage across the street from where they lived, where he fixed cars.

My grandparents loved being together.  They talked forever on their front porch, or over coffee in the morning, before my grandma scuttled him out the door for work, where she came and visited him frequently.  They fished, played cards, went on road trips, entered photography contests together, and she always kept a journal.  I came across this today and wanted to share it.  I have always loved this particular journal entry of hers.  At the age of 75 she wrote it, and we read it at her funeral four years later:

March 2002

I haven’t written for a long time.  I have now lived three quarters of a century.  That doesn’t make me so very old but I realize there are things I would have liked to do that are now closed to me.

I would have liked to have learned to swim and ride a bike and skate.  I would have liked to have finished high school and gone to college.  I wanted to be a writer or a singer or a teacher or even at one time a nurse.  I would have liked to go to New York or WashingtonD.C. and especially to Rome or Vienna or Jerusalem.  All of these things and more I would have liked to have done – but I wouldn’t trade the things I have done.

I have lain in the tall thick grass and watched the clouds make funny shapes as they floated across the sky.  I have ridden my pony wild and free through the fields and meadows and along the country lanes of my childhood.  I have gone to pick wild flowers in the woods with the greatest grandpa of all.

I have gone fishing, hunting and mushrooming with a wonderful man.  I’ve had a man that I have loved and who has loved me with all his heart for nearly 60 years.  I have held two beautiful babies in my arms and watched them grow.  I’ve gone to ball games, to concerts, to 4H shows and school programs and I’ve held 2^nd and 3^rd generations of babies.

I’ve helped make a loving and happy home for some and a safe haven for others.

If I should die – my plans as for now are to live forever – but you know how human plans are – as I was saying if I should die sometime in the near or far future I shall do so with few regrets.  Although I do wish I had learned to swim.  I’ll leave my little part of the world a little nicer and maybe my descendents will make it a little better.  Maybe little Luke (her grandson) will discover a cure for cancer or the common cold.

My brother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer right before Christmas, and is now in the thick of the battle.  His prognosis is good, but it’s going to be a rough few months ahead.  Of course, this has caused me to think back to when I was first diagnosed with cancer, and I have always said that it was harder emotionally than physically.  I still believe that to be true.  Whether it’s cancer, or some other challenge, fear is often a part of the equation that can compound our problems.  But when we can overcome our fears, we are free.  Today I put down a few of my thoughts on overcoming fear:

Overcoming Fear

When I was a young girl I dreaded report card time or parent/teacher conferences, because I knew I would get a huge lecture and punishment from my parents who expected my best efforts.  The conclusion my father came to was that I was being lazy.  I knew that laziness wasn’t the real reason for my lackluster grades, but, honestly, I could not figure out why I wasn’t simply putting forth a little more effort to produce better grades.  I knew I could do better.  As I got older my grades gradually went up, and finally in college, when no one saw my grades but myself, I proved to be a good student.

After years of reflection, I sought deeply to understand myself better, and I contemplated the feelings I had as a young girl.  I wanted to determine why I was so unwilling to put my full effort into school.  Finally, I realized that it was fear.  I had always wanted to believe that I could get As in any subject if I tried hard enough, but, I told myself that I was only willing to put forth minimal effort, and that was why I was under-performing.  That theory brought me some measure of comfort.

So why didn’t I just try harder, when I lived in constant worry of displeasing my parents because of my poor grades?  Because something I feared even more than a scolding from my parents was possibly discovering that I wasn’t really as smart as I thought I was!  I was scared to risk trying my best.  Some call it fear of failure, but I think it was fear of truth.  Letting myself and my parents think that I was smart, but lazy, was better than the possibility of discovering I was not that smart.

I was only slightly more confident in my running abilities.  I was a good distance runner, and ran on the Track and Cross-country teams in high school.  My dad was so excited when I won, and it felt good for my parents to be proud of me, so, winning races became very important to me.  I needed that affirmation that I was good at something.  My self-confidence hinged greatly on how I placed in races.  I started running before school, as well as going to my practices after school, to get in better shape.  My hard work and some natural ability paid off and I began winning almost every race.  When I won, I felt on top of the world.  When I lost, or got a slow time, I was devastated.

Running was an emotional roller coaster for me, and I became so nervous that my sleep was distracted and I couldn’t eat for hours before races or I would be sick when I was done.  Race days were misery, but I didn’t want to quit because it was the one thing I was really good at.

There is a quote I like that says, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.”  That’s how I felt about track.  I prayed a lot about my running, and visualized myself in races doing my very best.  I continued to run well through high school and got a track scholarship for college.

By the time I was in college I was better at dealing with my anxiety over races.  And despite the fact that the competition was stiffer, and that my scholarship depended on my performance, I felt more calm and confident than when I was younger.  I knew that I was still valuable as a person no matter how I performed in my races.

Gaining a closer relationship with my Heavenly Father through personal scripture study and prayer during college helped me to gain that much needed self-esteem boost. Putting my running in proper perspective actually helped me to get the best out of myself because I wasn’t running with as much fear.

Fear comes in many forms and is something that everyone has felt and will feel throughout their lifetime.  Fear can cripple our development at best, and destroy our faith and self-esteem at its worst.  Fear is what comes before disobedience to commandments, loss of personal integrity, and loss of faith.

People who are fearful are not as capable of withstanding peer pressure or recognizing truth.  We learn from the scriptures that “God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

There are many things we fear throughout our lives, but they usually come from one of a few categories.  “Fear of failure” is certainly the category that I would put my Track experiences in.  When we are afraid to try something for fear that the outcome could damage our self-esteem or our reputation with others, or some other undesirable consequence, then we are fearing failure.

“Fear of truth” means that we don’t want to know more about something because that knowledge may not be something we like, or want to know about, or follow.  It may make us feel guilty, or responsible to act in a way that is hard for us.  “Fear of truth” inhibits how deeply we will search into finding truth, because we don’t want to learn something that might rattle us from the safety of what we want to believe.

“Fear of man” is another fairly universal fear.  “Man” in this case is referring to mankind, or all people.  Fear of man comes into play when we are too concerned with what other people, or the world in general, may think of us.  “Fearing man” leads to making poor decisions in an effort to gain worldly acceptance instead of doing what we really believe is right.

When I was 21 I went on a mission for my church in Australia.  I immediately noticed that when we spoke to people about religion, they usually did not want to speak with us.  In fact, it seemed to me that we were just going around bugging everyone.  I was sensitive to this and didn’t want to bother people.  It took me a few months to realize that the important message we were sharing was so valuable that it was okay if we annoyed a few people in the process of trying to find those of God’s children who were ready for it.  With stronger faith, gained from the increased scripture study and prayer that was a normal part of my day as a missionary, I overcame my fear of approaching people to talk about the gospel.  I was experiencing some of that “perfect love” for people, spoken of in the scriptures, which “casteth out all fear”.

Even when your faith is strong, you can still experience overwhelming fear.  I have never been more afraid than when I was 37 years old, strong in my beliefs, secure in myself, my marriage, and a happy mother of four beautiful children.  One day a doctor told me something that nobody has ever been able to take back.  He told me that I had “incurable” metastatic breast cancer that had spread to my bones.

I went forward with aggressive treatment, chemotherapy which made me so sick I was hospitalized for about a month, radiation, and several surgeries and drugs.

I never doubted that God loved me and my family, but I was so sad at the thought that my husband and children would be left without me.  The worry I felt for my family was a crushing weight for me, and caused many sleepless nights.  I wasn’t sure if Heavenly Father knew how much my family really needed me.

During treatment I did my best to exercise faith.  It was all I had because there were so many reasons to be fearful.  I prayed for peace constantly, then went about doing everything I could to have the Spirit in my life.  I played uplifting music in our house, exercised when I had the strength, and practiced the piano more than ever before in my life.  I was amazed at the power of positive music to sooth my soul.  I needed to “feast” daily on the words of Christ to help calm the constant worry that came into my mind almost immediately when I wasn’t thinking of something else.  So I read my scriptures every night before going to sleep.

I prayed a lot.  When I was too sick or weak to get out of bed, or when I was alone at the hospital, I continued to pray between sleeping.  When I drove the hour it took to go for chemotherapy, I developed a habit of keeping the radio off and praying the whole way up and back in the quiet of my car.  I felt a very real and comforting warmth of Heavenly Father’s love for me in answer to my cries for peace and strength.

I have never fought harder to obtain peace than while I was battling cancer.  Finally scans showed no evidence of disease in my body, something that the doctors said would not happen.  Even when I was officially in a remission, and my body was getting stronger, my spiritual battle continued.  Fear of the unknown has been a mind-spinning challenge for me, but I have learned to completely trust God’s wisdom.  I know that no matter what happens, He will take care of me and my family.  I finally feel peace in my heart almost all of the time.  And when I don’t, I know the things I can do to find it.

I’m grateful that because my fear, sorrow, and pain were more than I had ever experienced before, I was also able to see the obvious hand of God in my life more than ever before.  I have felt strongly since then that I need to always acknowledge that He is there, and that He did, in fact, help me every time I really needed it.  I have tried to have a close relationship with my Heavenly Father, and asked Him to give me courage.  He has always made me equal to the challenges I faced.  I was given strength and courage beyond my own.

Faith in Christ can help us overcome any fear.  Christ said, “In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

I came across this article today posted by a breast cancer survivor on another website.  Naturally it caught my eye!  This study shows that regular running can help prevent breast cancer recurrence by about 25%!  I think that is pretty amazing!! Here are a couple of quotes from the article:

“Previous studies have shown that breast cancer survivors who meet the current exercise recommendations (2.5 hours of moderate intensity physical activity per week) are at 25% lower risk for dying from breast cancer. New research from the U.S. Department of Energy’s Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory (Berkeley Lab) and reported in the International Journal of Cancer suggests that exceeding the recommendations may provide greater protection, and that running may be better than walking.”

“If I were a breast cancer survivor, I would certainly consider running or some other vigorous exercise over walking, and I wouldn’t just be doing the minimum, with the consequences and potential benefit being so great,”

Click on the link below to read the full article and read the statistics.  I have always personally felt that it is more important now for me to run than ever before, and that running is a key to maintaining good health going forward.  This study totally validates that notion.  There are also psychological benefits to running when you are going through a difficult challenge of any kind.  So get those running shoes out and lace up!!

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/01/140129115205.htm

My church makes these little videos (this one is 3 minutes long), and when I saw this one I sorta got chills.  I LOVED it and wanted to share this today.  Basic message:  Don’t look back, look forward!  It’s a message of hope and courage for anyone, no matter what you believe.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrZij9MSTRI

I should watch this at the beginning of each day!!

Sorry to those of you who sent me messages over the past week or two using the “contact me” icon on my site.  I did not think I had received any messages at all yet, then I just checked my junk mail and found some.  I’m so glad that my site has reached a few people, and I feel so bad that I haven’t responded back to some very kind messages, and even a few who have shared their story with me.  I am grateful for your messages, and I will get back to you all as soon as possible (this weekend for sure!)

I think my email account just didn’t recognize these first messages that were sent through my site, and so now that I have marked them as ‘not junk’, hopefully that won’t happen in the future.  I will be checking my junk mail just in case!! Sorry again, and thanks for the messages!!

This post is for those of you fighting a battle in your life (doesn’t have to be just cancer).  I am in a great place now, NED for almost two years.  But we all need each other in this world at certain times, and now I feel a little more capable of being a cheerleader to anyone who is in the same place I used to be!

So, . . . my thought today is this:  Whatever your day looks like today, whether you are lying in bed, hospitalized with chemo sores in your mouth and a feeding tube (been there!), dragging slightly from chemo, or feeling well, but a bit scared, let’s make this the BEST day we can today.  If you have friends and family all around you, GREAT!!  If you are having relationship problems, or are feeling depressed, YOU can do it too!!  You may not know me, but I really do care about how you are doing today, and I do know how you feel (in general, of course).

What can we do to make it the BEST day today?  Start on your knees in prayer and talk to your Heavenly Father about how you are feeling and how you would like to make the best of this day.  (Even if you are not a believer in God, what does it hurt to try?)  Then, get up off your knees and do it!!  Look for ways to make those around you happy.  Thinking of others is really hard when you have a lot to focus on just to make it through the day, but it is amazing how we can still do little things that can make the better day for someone else in our path if we are determined to do it.  And that can’t help but rub off on us.  Okay, here’s the cheer:  Rah, rah rah!!!  You can do it!!!   

Please feel free to share some great ideas on how to make the best of your day today, and let’s all be thinking of each other and praying for each other to succeed in this too.  (And hey!  You could be the lucky first person to post a comment on my new site!)  Tomorrow I want reports on how it went!!  

Friends and Family,

I have created a personal website called deniseneish.com. I’ve been working on it for a long time for a few reasons:

First, I made exactly what I was looking for when I was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. I wanted to find survivors out there. Really, what I was looking for was hope that I might be one of the 1-3% who are cured. I always knew that if I made it to this point, I would get myself out there on the internet for other women to find.

Another reason I made this website is because I have been through an incredible experience in the last 2 1/2 years. We all seem to take turns dealing with difficult trials in our lives. I have been inspired by seeing, or reading about, others who have successfully navigated some of life’s craziest curve balls. We learn from each other, even if our paths our very different. My hope is to inspire or lift anyone going through any type of personal crisis.

A third reason I made this site is because I continue to work (slowly) on writing a book about my battle with stage 4 breast cancer.  This will be my author website when I try to get it published.  My writing has gone through several phases.  At first I think I wrote completely for myself. To be honest, I was a bit traumatized by this whole experience, and writing helped me deal with it, even if I felt inclined to write a lot of the painful details. But the longer I have been healthy, and in remission, I am able to write with a lot more joy. I’m excited to write more, because there is a happy ending!

If you have followed my caringbridge journal in the past, I will be posting all journal updates on my new website. I transferred my journal entries over to deniseneish.com.

For friends who have never read my caringbridge journal in the past, you are welcome to read my story from the beginning of my diagnosis. I will continue to update it regularly when I get new scans, and occasionally when I share some reflections and insights related to my cancer experience.

Please, feel free to share my website with anyone you know who may benefit from it.  I especially want to reach those who are battling cancer. Thank you!

Sincerely,

Denise (deniseneish.com)

Optimistic Stage 4 Breast Cancer Study

Written Apr 10, 2012 11:10pm

Two years ago today

Written Apr 28, 2013 12:52am

Video for the AF Half Marathon

Written Jan 15, 2013 10:01pm

Denise’s Story

Written Apr 4, 2012 5:06pm

Patience

Written Mar 20, 2012 10:50pm

A New Year!!!

Written Jan 13, 2012 10:31am

To you who have lifted me- by Denise Neish

Written Sep 18, 2011 11:08pm

Birthday at the hospital!

Written Jul 19, 2011 11:51am

Thanks for all the support!

Written Jun 21, 2011 11:09pm

More energy

Written Jun 17, 2011 10:48pm

Letter to Family and Friends

Written Jun 14, 2011 11:55pm

This is a letter I sent to my family and friends a couple of days before I started chemo about 5 weeks ago.  We had made it through our move to Utah, and were getting settled in.  I had been too emotional to talk about this to most people, but finally wanted to unburden myself before beginning treatment by telling everyone I should.  I felt like it would help me mentally “get my game face on” for chemo.  I thought that writing this, and getting it out there, would help me toughen up a little for the battle ahead.

Dear Friends,

I have recently been diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer.  I have had surgery, and will begin chemotherapy on Friday.  Some of you know about this, and some of you don’t.  I am sorry to tell you in this blog if you are hearing about it for the first time.  It has been hard to tell everyone personally all about this, and I took some time this evening to write to my family and I decided to forward that email on to all of you so that you can know what is going on with us.  I love each of you and wanted to share this with you.  Here is the email I sent to my family:

Okay, so I know I have needed to write an email and update you guys on what is going on, etc.., but it has been extremely hard with moving and doing doctor’s appointments, and taking care of our family all at the same time. Plus, it has been good to have a little time to get some perspective on things.

So we went to Huntsman last week, and decided to stick with them (as I thought I would). My doctor is “Dr. B”. She is the medical director for the breast cancer clinic of Huntsman, so she should know her stuff. She also was very kind and a good listener, and had good thoughtful information to give.

I wish she would have had some different diagnosis for me, or a much better prognosis, but my prognosis is still the same. I am not saying this to be negative, but just because I have been told this several times now, and I think it is because they try to be realistic or something with patients. The best description she gave about stage 4 breast cancer was that at some point cancer spreads too much for them to permanently get rid of it. It is possible that the first round of chemo could reduce or even get rid of the cancer that we know about so that it does not even show up on a PET scan, but they feel that on a cellular level it will not all be gone, and that at some point it will come back somewhere. It is very positive if we can “get rid” of it this first time though, because it could be a few years before we deal with anything again.

My course of treatment will be very aggressive. We will do 8 rounds of chemo, two weeks apart. This makes it more powerful when you reduce the time in between rounds. Most places only do it 3 weeks apart, but they have some good drugs to help my white blood cell count go up between treatments so that I can handle the higher intensity of this kind of chemo. I will also have plenty of anti-nausea drugs at my disposal, and they feel certain that I should not be vomiting or anything like that throughout treatment. Fatigue will probably be the biggest issue.

After chemo, we will radiate the areas where I had the lump, and lymph node area, as well as the three areas that have advanced to my bone. This can really help, and can even alleviate pain in those areas. (Although I don’t really have any pain there, just some sensitivity.)

After that I will probably have my ovaries removed, and begin an anti-hormone regimen. This can be a very effective treatment for cancer that has spread to the bone. In fact, one of my options was to begin with this treatment and do chemo later.

I may take Herceptin to counteract the HER-2 positive result I got for my type of cancer. But there is some dispute about that, because I got another test back that says that I am HER-2 negative. That would be good if I was negative, but even if you are negative (it is a sliding scale) you can benefit from this treatment, so we will request to get it anyway. I think Dr. Buys is open to that even though it is a 100,000$ treatment!

I will be on the hormone suppression therapy for the rest of my life, and we will do frequent PET scans to check for cancer and treat it as needed.

So on to how we are feeling about all of this. I say “we” because Branden and I are definitely in this together, and have talked at length about all of this. We have both been very emotional at times through this, but we are also beginning to get more hopeful and trying to be strong for the battle ahead, come what may.

There are some people (1-3%) who actually beat Stage 4 breast cancer long term. But the doctors don’t say it’s curable. There are also those who fight a good fight for many years (20-25)but only about 10% live past 10 years, and about 20% live past 5 years. These are not good odds, but I am similar in many ways to those who have either been cured, or who have lived many years.

I am young, healthy, I eat right and exercise regularly, and I am not having any symptoms to begin with. I am optimistic, and will be tough throughout treatment. (Some people simply wimp out of treatment at some point and give up, and that is not an option for me.) My cancer is stage 4 because it has spread beyond the lymph nodes, but I would say “barely”. It is only in three spots, and it is better that it has spread to the bone than to any of my organs. The types that occasionally beat this or live for a longer time are usually ones that have spread to bone only. Also, Branden and I are being very proactive in seeking out the latest and best treatments for this. I am preparing for the side effects in all the ways I can, and I am actually wanting to get going on this treatment. BRING IT ON!!! I have a wonderful husband who is the love of my life, and 4 beautiful children who are young and need me for a long time still. Branden and I started this family together, and I am determined to raise these children with him! I believe that it is possible to beat this cancer, and if anyone can, I believe I can, if it is in Heavenly Father’s plan. I am tough physically, spiritually, emotionally, and I am surrounded by love and have the best support around me possible.

This whole thing has turned my world upside down. I have always been pretty introspective, but it is another thing to have my mortality hanging by a thread. I know that we are all mortal, but I don’t normally think about it too often. It is a good thing to think about, because it makes us want to live our lives in the way that we really want to. I don’t want to go on a big European vacation or anything like that, I just want to raise my kids in the best way I can, have a happy relationship with Branden, and do some good in this world. I want to enjoy Alec, Lily, Max, and Macy more, and I want to actually follow through more with some of my good intentions. I want to do whatever Heavenly Father has planned for me. I don’t feel like my mission in life is complete yet, and I feel like I have much good I can do with the rest of my life. I think this will just be a really good refining process, and I know we all have to go through difficult things in life to help us come closer to what God wants us to be. I love my Heavenly Father with all my heart, and I trust in Him completely. I love each of you reading this email, and I will do my best to be brave through all of this. I feel that I have many more years to come in my life, but I just wanted to share some of these thoughts with you.

Thank you for all your love and prayers. A lot of good can come from difficult things, and I see a lot of that already in the outpouring of love and kindness from each of you and from many more people around me. It is a good example to me.

Love,

Denise

My life has taken a really strange and unexpected turn. I am still in shock about this, and feel like I need to write. So much has happened in the last several weeks that I don’t know where to begin.

I found out that I have breast cancer. If that was not shocking enough, it’s really bad. Even though I have felt totally fine, apparently I am “incurable” according to doctors. My cancer is in Stage 4, which is the worst stage. It has spread from a lump in my right breast, to 24 lymph nodes under my arm (out of 25), to two places on my spine, and one place on my pelvis. When it spreads beyond the lymph nodes, and is out in your body in various places, it is considered Stage 4, and they don’t consider it curable. If I was told that my diagnosis was all a mistake, I could believe it, because I feel totally fine!

So let me back up a little bit and try to explain how I got to this point. Two months ago I didn’t have any suspicion that anything was wrong. We were in San Diego. Branden had just secured a new job in Utah, and our minds were full of everything about our move. With four kids, we cared a lot about where we would end up. We both have family in Utah, and my husband grew up here, so we knew it would be a great place to raise our kids. We were excited to finally be living in an affordable housing market so that we could be home owners again. We spent our evenings enthusiastically researching the best school districts in the area for great neighborhoods and houses. As we were figuring out where we would move, and how we would move, I was making a list of things to do before we left San Diego. On my list was a doctor’s appointment at the Breast Clinic. I have had a lump that I noticed for about 2 ½ – 3 years now, that I knew I should get checked out at some point. Before you roll your eyes and say that I was crazy to not have checked it out before, I must defend myself. For the past 3 years I have been either pregnant or breast-feeding, and it is pretty normal to have lumps in either situation.

The day before we left to go to Utah for Branden to start his new job, I had my appointment. We had found a house, but could not move into it for another month, but Branden needed to get started on his job. Alec (my oldest son) had the week off for Spring break, so we decided to go with Branden to Utah for his first week of work. We would stay at his parent’s house for the week, and then I would head back to San Diego with the kids. Branden would work for the next three weeks and we would prepare for our move.

When I went in for my appointment, I expected that I would have a mammogram and probably even a biopsy while I was there. Instead, I only was scheduled for an initial exam. The doctor felt the lump and, of course, felt all over the place to determine if there were any more lumps.  I explained to her that even though the lump was pretty big, I wasn’t too worried about it because I had been pregnant or nursing for so long and that I was sure it was just a clogged mild duct or something like that, but that I knew it would probably need to be surgically removed by now because it was so big and hard, and obviously wasn’t going to just go away on its own.

She seemed a little more concerned than I had expected. She asked me a few questions about when I had first felt it, etc., and then told me that I had another lump up in my armpit. I froze, “I do?!” I asked, alarmed. “Where?” I had never felt another lump before, or I would have definitely been more concerned about this. She helped me find the lump way high up in my armpit. She said that there were possibly a couple other little bumps up there, and that that was where my lymph nodes were.

My mind raced. I thought of an explanation. I had felt extremely tired the week before for a few days, and I said, “If I have recently had some sort of infection, could that show up in my lymph nodes anywhere?” She said that it could. I grasped on to that and tried to convince myself and the doctor that that must be what it was. The doctor told me that she was going to make some calls and try to schedule me for a mammogram and ultrasound the next morning. She said that it was very hard to get a mammogram appointment, and that is why they had not scheduled me for one initially.