CELEBRATIONS!

I am going to allow myself to celebrate!  At least for a little bit . . .

When you run a longer race they time your "splits"-- the time it takes to reach certain mileage markers throughout the run.  After you pass the last split you know the finish line is next.  You are still running and still tired but you gain an extra bit of energy knowing that the finish line is closer than ever.  That's where I'm at and I'm going to breathe deep and smile for a little!

On Friday, September 14 my dear friends helped me to celebrate the last day of radiation by getting together for lunch!  Fun, laughter, yummy food!  It helped that we were celebrating Sabrina's 40th birthday as well!  YEAH!  It's about time my younger friends start catching up!  These girls (and many not on this picture) have BLESSED my life over the past months.  They have brought meals, written notes, emails, cards, prayers, cried tears, encouraged, brought flowers, brought smiles, shared kale recipes . . . the list goes on and on.  They continue to be a gift from God!

And, on Sunday, September 16 I decided to run the Philly Rock and Roll Half Marathon with my sister, Karyn. I had to prove to myself that I still was the Renae I used to be.  I often feel like the cancer has changed me and my life so greatly that I'll never get back to being "normal".  But this race was one of the first attempts at regaining that feeling and for some reason, I felt like I needed to do it for my heart and soul to believe it as well.  I bought a bib off of craigslist and ran as "Susan"!  The day was picture perfect and Karyn and I knocked out the miles together.

3 days later, Joel and I took off for Florida to spend a long weekend together on the beach and RELAXED!  At times I look back and just can't believe what has taken place over the last year.  I tell Joel that I would give almost anything to be able to go back in time and change the outcome of that day on December 14--but since that is impossible--I will continue to try to keep moving forward.

My dearest, Joel.  He has wiped more tears away than anyone will ever know.  He has provided safety and comfort when I couldn't find them by myself.  He has held me in his arms through long sleepless nights of worry and fear.  And even made me smile when it was the last thing I wanted to do.  He has been my ROCK in the middle of a very stormy sea.

And, the biggest celebration of all is that I HAVE HAIR!  I'll post more about this later. . . but I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have hair on my head again.  Just the other day my kids were teasing me because when they came down for breakfast I had "bedhead".  My hair was MESSED UP!  We laughed together and then I told them that this was a milestone for me.  We should  be having a celebration!  I haven't had messed up hair for MONTHS!  I need to comb my hair in the morning after my shower!  These are amazing accomplishments that most of you take for granted every day!

And yesterday, Thursday, September 27 I had my port removed!  That was a BIG DEAL!  When I took the bandages off this morning I cried.  I looked so normal--without the port sticking out of my chest!  I would often tell Joel that I looked like a "freak"--no hair, scars on my body, and that port sticking out of me. I feel like I'm finally running downhill instead of uphill.  My daughter said, "Mommy--your bump is gone!"  When I look in the mirror I begin to see the other Renae emerging--the one before "cancer".  And I'm so glad to finally see her again!

RINGING THE BELL

In the radiation lobby sits a large silver bell.  Once you complete your radiation treatments, tradition has it that you ring the bell signally the end.  Every time the bell is rung the rest of us, waiting in the lobby, clap and wish it were us who get to walk out of the lobby for the last time!

The bell was donated by a former patient and just the other day I had to walk over and read the inscription at the bottom:

"THE BELL RINGERS"

As the sailing ships of another generation relied on their ship's bell to signal their position in the fog, may this bell enable you who ring it to navigate your way to a life free from cancer.

generously donated by

FRANK McKEE

"Grateful Patient"

If you are ever feeling depressed or sad about your life drive down to the University of Penn and sit in the radiation lobby for a while.  I promise that you will walk out thanking God for the life he has given you.  Today I saw two parents pushing a stroller with their little one, maybe a year old, bald from chemo and just finished with their baby's radiation.  Yesterday, a little girl about Kenzie's age came bouncing into the lobby--bald and ready for her next radiation appointment.  And a couple weeks ago a man, just about my age, rang the bell and left a lasting image in my mind.  

He walked out of the radiation area and into the lobby.  His family was waiting for him--wife and 3 boys (about the same ages as my kids).  He looked so incredibly healthy I had to look twice to make sure he was the patient.  He looked like a tri-athlete.  His family had joined him on this day to "ring the bell" - his last radiation appointment behind him.  I watched the family as they moved toward the bell--because all I could think of was how similiar he was to me!  When people ring the bell, some shout--others yell "GOOD LUCK" to the rest of us in the lobby--but he did neither.  He quietly rang the bell, his wife took pictures and out the door they went.  It was his eyes that grabbed my attention.  Filled with sadness.  So glad to be done but almost afraid to celebrate.  I knew EXACTLY how he felt.  As I watched him tears rolled down my cheeks.  I keep thinking about him.  And the lyrics to the song "THE WORDS I WOULD SAY" by The Sidewalk Prophets keep popping into my head.  Because that's what I would tell him if I could.

Be strong in the Lord
And never give up hope
You're gonna do great things
I already know
God's got His hand on You
So don't live life in fear
Forgive and forget
But don't forget why you're here

Take your time and pray
And thank God for each dayHis love will find a way
These are the words I would say. . . 

Now . . . if I could just believe those same words . . . . . 

Today the bell was rung by me!  September 14, 2012

Many of you have asked how my kids are doing.  I can't express in words how much they have supported me, stuck with me and have been UTTERLY AMAZING in their acceptance of me and my bald head!  Many days I would run around the house searching for my wig or bandana and they would tell me--"You look great Mom!  GO BALD!"  So, out we would go to Walmart, school, the store without blinking an eye.  They are my little heros!  Here is what Connor wrote at school in 5th grade during one of his writing assignments.

Hey you there!  Do you want to hear about the most important thing in my life?  Well, it was when my Mom got breast cancer.  In this piece I will tell you when she told us she had it, the fun and sad and the highlights.  Now I'm going to tell you about when she told us.

When my Mom told my family (me, Dylan and Kenzie--my Dad already knew) we were all sad but then we said some great words to each other and we all felt better.  After that she told us what was going to happen, when it would start and we all started to feel better for the future.  Now, I'm going to tell you the fun and sad parts.

First I will tell you about the sad parts.  The sad parts for me is when I hear my Mom crying in her room.  So, I always think--how can I help?  Then one day a lightbulb went on.  The next time I heard her crying I went and gave her a big hug.  And it worked.  She stopped!  Some other sad parts are when she talks about what she is going to do next.  Now, I can tell you about the fun.  The fun moments for me are when we get to put her wig on.  (Her hair fell out.)  I like it because we all look different with Mommy's wig on.  I look like a hobo.  Dylan looks like a rock star and Kenzie looks like, well, Kenzie!  My Mom is the only one that looks really good.  Another highlight is when we are in the car coming home from somewhere (church or sports) Mom pulls off her wig and she looks completely different.

Now I will tell you about my family.  First of all, the breast cancer might have been a good thing because it brought our family closer together.  Now we all stick up for each other, help each other and are (most of the time) nice to each other.  I'm so happy that we know that we always have somebody there to support us in whatever we are in.

As you can see, my family and me have our difficulties but we always get through them.  I'm so happy for such a great family that I can always play with, look up to and do everything with.  We are still tackling breast cancer, but guess what, we are winning!

by Connor Derstine 5/10/12 (age 11)

Just wanted  to FINALLY update you on where I am on my journey.  I am halfway through my radiation treatments.  September 14 is my last treatment date.  After this is complete I am through the bulk of the treatments.  All of the cancer was removed last January after my lumpectomy and the chemo and radiation are considered "preventative treatments" in hopes that this will never come back again.  I will still need to head down to Penn once every three weeks to receive a medicine called "Herceptin"-- but that seems pretty easy considering all I've been through.  The Herceptin treaments will continue until next May.

If you would ask me how I'm doing I would first, probably lie to you and say, "Good.  I'm doing really good."  I mean, I should be doing good considering the fact that I am closer to the finish line than I've ever been.  But, the reality is that I have REALLY struggled the last couple months which is why there have been very few posts!  I guess the bottom line is FEAR.  I'm scared.  I never wanted this to be my life--especially at age 42.  This wasn't part of my plan.  I worked so hard to be "healthy" and here I sit.

I am angry and sad and tired.  

I've always prided myself on being strong and just haven't felt like this describes me anymore.  You should see me at my radiation appointments.  I'm an emotional wreck!  The radiation treatments are very short but I need to go down to Penn every day . . . . 5 days a week . . . . it's a commuting nightmare.  The emotion of it all always washes over me as I walk up to the doors of the "Perleman Cancer Institute" (the name of my building at Penn) and can't believe that this has all taken place.  I think part of the reason I've been so emotional is that I need to face it every day--over and over.  When I'm home,  I can push the cancer to the back of my mind.  But at Penn--it looks me right in the eyes.

I remember running the 1/2 marathon at Lehigh Valley.  It was my first one and I had only run 10 miles one time before the race.  Never practiced running the full 13 miles.  I felt great at the start.  Fast, quick, light on my feet.  Like I was born to run!  The first 8 miles passed quickly.  Around mile 10, things started heading downhill.  My legs were tired.  I felt every ache and pain.  The little voice in my head started to question every reason why I was even doing this in the first place.  People started passing me.  I felt heavy and slow.  It started raining.  And then raining harder.  And to top it off the last couple miles were filled with hills.  I kept plodding along knowing that if I just kept moving I would make it to the finish line at some point.  There are really only 2 choices--quit or keep running--even if it is a lot slower than you ever wished it to be!? Some races feel great all the way through and others not so much!  This was one of those!  And to be quite honest, that's a bit of what I feel now.  Close. . . yet still far.  Uncertain.  Aching.  Emotional.  But unwilling to quit.

I pray every day for healing and peace.  I know it will come.  Just wish it would get here faster.

Quad County Bike Ride

45 mile Loop

Saturday, May 13

Mark and Darla, Joel and I enjoy biking together.  It keeps us in shape and allows us some time to catch up and enjoy the outdoors.  The year we all turned 40 (2010) we did a 250 mile bike trip up to the Bergey cabins in Tioga County, PA.  While most couples would have opted for a relaxing cruise to celebrate this milestone--we decided on an adventure.  We are so strange!  :-)

When we found out the weather was going to be beautiful on Sunday we found babysitters and decided to tackle the 45 mile loop.  I had been out on my bike for 15-20 mile rides but never this far since the chemo started.  I'm always nervous when I head out--is my body going to give out on me somewhere along the road?  Our good friend Tim, promised he would come and pick me up if that happened.  But I certainly was not going to let that happen if I could help it!

So off we went. . . and I felt great!  Finished the 45 no problem!  In fact we averaged 15.5 --which isn't too shabby at all!  It felt so good to be on the bike and to be flying down the hills--wind in your face and to feel your muscles strain cranking up the hills.  Just to be able to be out there was so healing.  I had such a good time and felt like my old self--the Renae before the cancer.  I wish I could be with her more.  I would give anything to rewind the clock back to December 14 and change the course of events.  My life was so perfect back then and I didn't even know it.  Sigh . . . . 

Here we are at the rest stop!  The food was GREAT! 

And the day was perfect.  The best Mother's Day Present!

Krista, Joanna, Darla, Renae

                                                   LENAPE SURVIVAL CHALLENGE

If you would have drove past the Perkiomen Watershed in Schwenksville on April 28 you would have seen a bunch of runners getting ready to run the "Lenape Survival Challenge".  It's a great race--first you run a hilly 4.7 miles, then a quick sprint up and down Spring Mount, followed by a 2.5 mile canoe race down the Perkiomen Creek!  We've been doing the race for years!  But this year--with life so upside down--we didn't make any plans.  But when I received the postcard in my mailbox I decided to register myself and Darla.  I emailed her, "Are you ready to run?  We are NOT going to miss out this year!"  And with tears in both of our eyes--we decided to go for it.

So, just like every year--we met our good friends Joanna and Krista at the parking lot, tried to decide what to wear, and listened to the last minute instructions on how to paddle a canoe!  As I pinned my bib number on I couldn't help but compare myself to last year.  How different I look.  How my confidence in myself and my strength has been stolen.  How others look at me.  How much things have changed in my life.  But today was not a day for sadness--rather a day for celebration.  I mean.  . . seriously . . . how many people run races in the middle of chemo treatments?  Before my chemo treatments started I was stockpiling groceries thinking I would not even be able to make it to the store!  Now, here I stood ready to run!  This was a victory on MANY levels!

We lined up along Haldeman Road and were off!  It's funny. . . probably the place where I feel the most comfortable walking around bald is at the gym and with fellow exercisers!  Maybe it's because it takes so much energy to exercise, run, bike--you just don't care what you look like--you just hope to make it to the finish!

Here we are jumping into our canoe!  It always feels good to give the legs a rest and get the arms working!  The day was beautiful!  We were laughing about all of our canoeing experienes!  We noticed the creek was a little low and knew we might have trouble downstream!

As we worked our way downstream we came across a couple areas where the water was so low that we had to hop out of our canoe and push it over the rocks--a canoe drag!  I was wishing I hadn't eaten so many cheesy fries the night before!  ;-)

After we finished the race, Darla and I just hugged each other!  WE MADE IT!  Our first race together after this cancer nightmare.  In so many ways--a symbol--a victory--a statement to myself . . .

I am strong.
I will not give in.
I will not give up.
I will try and then I will try harder.
I will not allow cancer to define who I am.
I will cry but I will continue to push forward.
I will embrace life to its fullest.
I will love and laugh.
I will cherish every moment.
I will LIVE!

Running the DC Marathon March 2011

APRIL 16 BOSTON MARATHON

Today was the Boston Marathon.  I wasn't there.  I was supposed to be running today.  Never in a million years would I ever have thought that my life would be where it is right now--a bald, chemo breast cancer patient.  At times it is so hard to wrap my head around what has happened to me over the last 5 months.  To be honest, sadness often tries to swallow me and the days leading up to this one were especially difficult.

First of all, you must understand, that for me to qualify for this race was nothing short of a miracle in itself.  Darla has been running all her life--it's just who she is.  Me?  I'm a late bloomer!  I never even started to take exercise seriously until I was in my late thirties!  I was never a "runner."  Didn't even think I could, would or should try to do that!  But, as I exercised and became stronger, my dear friend encouraged me to try a 5K.  And that January, I made the mistake of making it a "New Years Resolution" in front of my friends.  After months of badgering--"Did you sign up for your 5k yet?"--I decided the only way to get them to stop haggling me was to get it over with!  And so I did.  I found out that I loved the competitive "race" atmosphere and the adrenaline and the post race snacks!  Darla suggested we start training for a 10 miler.  Really?  Could I actually do that?  We started running.  And each time we got together to run we talked, laughed, complained and enjoyed catching up with one another.  We ran in the dark, in the rain, through the wind and became stronger.  After running the Broad Street Run in Philly, Darla challenged me again.  How about a half marathon?  Each mile conquered gave me an inner strength I didn't know I had.  But a full marathon?  Now that's another animal all together!  But the challenge was just too tempting to let go.  And so in March of 2011 I ran my first marathon and my time qualified me for Boston.  The prestigious Boston Marathon--I never dreamed that I would be able to accomplish that goal. So, when the cancer came and snatched this (and so many other things) away from me--well. . . you can see why the days leading up to April 16 were a bit hard to handle.

Both Darla and I desperately tried to find a way to defer my time and run in 2013.  Darla emailed the Boston Marathon Association and explained the situation.  They said NO DEAL.  We don't do that for anyone or any situation.  5 days before the race we hatched another plan.  Joel and I were going to drive up to Boston on Sunday and I was going to jump into the race at mile 18 and run the last 8 miles to the finish.  At least I would be a part of the experience.  I had been feeling so good through the chemo that I had ran 8 miles just a few days before and knew I could do it.  Called my doctor just to get his approval and he told me to FORGET IT!  Didn't want me to run!  The Friday before the race I made one last phone call to Boston explaining my situation and they told me, very politely . . . ABSOLUTELY NOT!  I emailed Joel--IT'S OVER.  And cried.

Saturday morning came and I knew Darla was headed up to Boston.  The forecast was calling for temperatures in the 80's--NOT good running weather!  Around 11:00 Darla emailed me and told me to check out the Boston website.  The race directors had decided--due to the heat--to give runners the option this year to run in 2012 or choose to defer until next year!  I ran to my computer to see if this could honestly be true!  IT WAS!  I was yelling and crying in my kitchen and called Darla on the phone immediately.  Crying.  Laughing.  Yelling.  Hope Restored.  I will be able to run The Boston Marathon in 2013.  God sent me a miracle--wrapped it up with a big bow and dropped it into my life.  Only 2x in the history of the Boston Marathon have they allowed runners to "defer" and run the following year.

It has caused me to think and has reassured me that there is a God above who cares for me.  Does He see me (among the millions). . . struggling, crying, fearful, hope slipping through my fingers?  I believe He does!  In the middle of pain and grief God is sometimes very hard to see.  The "whys" and "unfairness" of situations often take center stage and it is difficult to see God leading the way.  But on Saturday, I believe he showed Himself to me and placed into my hands a symbol of his love and faithfulness.  It will always be a miracle, just for me!

Darla holding our bib numbers.  That's mine--16790--look for me wearing it in 2013!  YIPPEE!

10 THINGS GOD WANTS YOU TO REMEMBER.

I AM FOR YOU.

I LOVE YOU.

I BELIEVE IN YOU.

I WILL NOT FAIL YOU.

I WILL BE WITH YOU.

I WILL PROVIDE FOR YOU.

I WILL BLESS YOU.

I WILL GIVE YOU REST.

I WILL STRENGTHEN YOU.

I WILL ANSWER YOU.

My dear, sweet husband.  With me every step of the way.  Always encouraging.  Always reassuring.  Always firmly believing in me.  My biggest fan and best friend.  He has wiped more tears away than anyone will ever know.  Buckets of them, to be honest.  I lost my hair on Sunday, March 11.  We went to a friend of mine from the YMCA to have my hair cut.  All of the kids wanted their hair cut as well--it was a family event.  There was a little stubble left on my head after we were done and I wanted it all off.  No reminders.  So, when we got home,  Joel lathered my head and shaved the final bits off.  I did the same for him.  This Sunday we rode our bikes 15 miles.  Thought we'd start off slow and work our mileage up!  I was just so glad I was feeling good enough to get out and ride!  I felt good this week--went to my classes at the gym, ran a couple times, and biked!  A blessing from God!

The best thing about being bald is feeling sensations on your head you've never experienced before--the shower is awesome and the breezes and sunshine on your scalp feels wonderful!

Joel loves to remind me that it's not so bad being bald--he's been doing it for years!  Finally, some sympathy!  :-)

If you stop in at our house--you might see me racing around like this. . .
You may even see me out running the streets of Harleysville looking like this.  It just feels so good to run and feel the breeze on my head!  Maybe I'll start a new trend!  :-)  Anyone want to join?

KENZIE AND MOMMY WIG SHOPPING

This Thursday, Kenzie and I went over to the wig salon to pick up Mommy's wigs.  We decided to make a day of it and had quite a fun time together.  Not exactly what I pictured my 7 year old daughter and I doing together--but I believe it was good for us both on many levels.

First we tried on Mommy's new wig.  Kenzie gave it a "thumbs-up"--"Looks great on you, Mommy!"  This is all I needed to hear from my little girl to know it is all going to be okay.  Her simple acceptance of me wearing this and being okay with it all gives me enough courage and determination to keep on going.  I often wonder what she sees through her little eyes.  I know she has seen plenty of my tears but I hope she sees courage as well.

Kenzie and I both listened carefully as Tracy told us how to take care of this new accessory.  How to shampoo, comb, and style.  We both laughed a lot when the ladies told us to stay away from the oven when wearing a wig!  They told us many wigs have been lost to chicken nuggets and chocolate chip cookies hot from the oven!  Singed and melted!  I told the ladies at the shop I'm pretty certain this will happen to me--it sounds like an accident just waiting to happen.  Kenzie promised to remind me never to wear my wig while cooking!  :-)

And now for the fun part . . . trying on wigs!  When you go to a wig salon, there is just no way you can not take some time to try on wigs!  It is like a Hollywood studio!  So, here goes Kenzie!  First, the funny looking net to take care of hiding all that blonde, beautiful hair!

Here's the first wig!  Long and luscious!  Doesn't she look beautiful!  Especially with those two front teeth missing!

Now, dark and dazzling!  I think she looks good with dark hair and blue eyes!  And, the headband adds just the right extra touch!  What a model!

This is what Kenzie will look like when she's 80!  Gray hair!  She still looks cute as a button!

Here we are!  Two brave girls still smiling and still having fun together!  She is my little hero!

RENAE'S RENEGADES  :-)

Do you see all of these beautiful women?  Only days after my diagnosis--these ladies came together and named themselves "Renae's Renegades" and started an amazing support system.  Look closely at the picture!  Do you see all of their wings?  Look again!  You will see that each one of these amazing women have wings--because they are truly MY ANGELS!  Take a look at the pictures of "The Hat Party"!  And when you see these girls in the days and weeks ahead--grab them and tell them how wonderful they all are!

Surprise!  Let's get this party started!  I must be honest--this was the night after my first "Look Good-Feel Good" makeup class for cancer patients.  Three other women and myself attended the workshop.  I was the only one with hair at the workshop and the youngest.  On my way home, I cried knowing and seeing my future as I sat with them.  I wasn't even sure I was going to make it through this party without tears.  How wrong I was!  I simply forgot that God would bless me and strengthen me through these dear friends of mine.

This is my prayer every day.  That I will be a "survivor".  Joanna made these T-shirts for all of us to proudly wear.  Don't you just love them?  "Renae's Renegades" is printed on the front.  On the back, the name of a Greek goddess and their birthdate.  On the  sleeve--Phillipians 4:13  "I can do everything through him who gives me strength."  A perfect combination of strength, power and hope!

Kara graciously opened her home to host this party.  Delicious food was everywhere.  Kara has blessed my life in so many ways.  She is an EARLY riser and many times in the wee hours of the morning when I can't sleep I will check my email and find her already sending me encouraging words to start my day.

While we were eating, laughing and catching up with everyone,  Darla asked her hair dresser to come and put feathers in our hair!  The color?  Bright pink, of course.

There was another reason Darla asked her hairdresser to come to our party.  To cut my hair.  After choosing a wig, I wanted to get my hair cut short and into the same style as the wig.  So, this was not just another haircut--this was the beginning of the process . . . So, when Darla asked me if I was ready to get it cut, I swallowed down a few tears and said yes.  Then I ran around and got pictures with everyone with my long hair.

Darla and I . . . what can I say?  One of my best friends.  We have been through thick and thin.  So many years of friendship.  So many stories.  So much of life shared.  We have cried tears of sadness and cried tears of laughter.  We have pounded the pavement together and road our bikes MANY miles--up some outrageous hills.   Together, side by side.  Now, more than ever.  And she runs really fast, too!

 The Bergey Girls!  Watch out!  When these girls get involved--BIG things happen!  I love them all dearly.  Renita is my spinning gym buddy--she'll make you sweat trying to keep up with her and Jo is my body pump gym buddy.  Ask her how long she can hold a plank!  And don't try to challenge her--you'll be in for a painful treat!  :-)  Glenda is such an encourager to me.  She gave me my first "prayer journal" which is now stuffed with emails, quotes, and verses.  I take it with me to each treatment.  Laura's beautiful heart continues to bless me with her prayers, creativity, and key lime bars!  :-)

My little sis, Karyn.  This dear woman has been to each and every doctor appointment with me--juggling her career and new little one, Abby (six months old) along with my insane number of doctor visits.  She has a PhD in molecular biology so she knows a little bit more than I do about cells, cancer and all that -- so she has patiently explained things over and over to Joel and I.  I think I should have paid more attention in biology when I was in high school but I was too busy checking out the guy that drove the black IROC Z :-) and hairspraying my BIG hair!

Another dear best friend, Cheryl.  We have just enjoyed raising our kids together.  Making memories.  Laughter and tears.  Treasuring life and all that it brings.  Cheryl is one of the purest women I know.  Believing the best in everyone.  She has an inner strength and beauty that is unmatched.  And Kristin, another dear friend--has filled my life with encouragement, laughter and joy!

Sabrina and Heidi--my sisters.  Yes, they really are my sister-in-laws but we've been together for a long time and they have truly become my sisters!  I've known Heidi since she was 8 and we played Duck Hunt the first time I met her!  These ladies have enriched my life in so many ways.  Joel and I have the greatest memories with Troy and Sabrina--backpack trips through Alaska, hitchhiking, Red Lake fishing trips, OBX and Florida beach trips.  So much of life has been enjoyed with these women!
And we have walked difficult roads--together--just like now--supporting each other any way we can.

I simply must include my sister, Anita in this group of my ANGELS.  She is my big sis and lives in Illinois with her husband Gene and her four children.  She is my biggest cheerleader and prayer warrior.  Praying me through when I have no prayers left.  Telling me to hang on with "grim determination".  To never stop believing, hoping and persevering.  Always believing there is hope and light around the next corner.

And I must include another wonderful friend, Cindy.  Another prayer warrior and encourager.  She has blessed my life in so many ways and continues to do this each and every day.

Here are some hat pictures.  I have so many to choose from.  If anyone out there needs a hat, please call me!  I'm sure I have something wonderful to choose from.  It's one thing to try a hat on with hair--another thing altogether without!  I'm nervous about losing it, but feel it is just one more step closer to getting to making it through.

As I am writing this, my hair is beginning to "thin".  That sounds better than "falling out"--doesn't it?  When I run my fingers through my hair they are covered in loose hair.  It's all very unbelievable.  I don't even use a comb right now, because I can't imagine how much would come out if I started to comb through it.  One woman told me this:

"Losing your hair will be the last of the firsts."

I thought this was very profound.  There have been so many firsts--first time I heard the word cancer, first time I needed surgery, first pathology report, first time seeing my name and clinical diagnosis:  breast cancer written on a piece of paper, first time wig shopping, first time seeing a port in my body, first chemo treatment.  I feel like I have been climbing mountain after mountain.  The hair loss feels like the last one to get over before I can see the other side.

So many meaningful gifts. . . .

A hand-knitted hat called "Seeds of Courage"where different stitches represent 

the steps of conquering cancer.

Here is a gift from all of the girls:  A Trollbeads bracelet.  It is a charm bracelet, of sorts, where beads can be added.  Each bead has a sentiment/thought attached to it making it more meaningful.  Every time I have a chemo treatment the girls add one or two beads.  It is becoming more beautiful all the time.  It started off as a simple silver bracelet and now is filled with color and beauty and depth that it did not have before.  I hope my life will be just like this bracelet after cancer.

A painting from Aunt Jan entitled "Precious Lord Take My Hand".  She painted this in the early hours of the morning.  How fitting since this is the time when fear most often creeps into my mind and I lay awake thinking of the future.  Jan's painting looks beautiful hanging above my bed so every time I walk into my room I am reminded to do just that--take God's hand.


After the party, I sent these amazing women this email (I hope they don't mind me sharing):

I have another picture of us. . . .(bear with me, here we go again). . . 

Remember the story of Peter walking on the water?  Well, here's my version. . . 

It's late at night.  Dark and stormy.  The water around our boat is deep, dark, sinister, swirling.  Big waves.  Lots of wind.  We can't see shore (which has me worried, because I'm NOT a swimmer! :-)  We can't even hear ourselves talking.  We look out across the water and there is God.  He has pointed at me to come to him.  I REALLY don't want to go.  But, somehow know that I must.  He's not looking like the regular "Jesus"--flowing robes, sandals, etc.  He looks like my "coach".  Baseball hat on backwards--under armour shorts, sweaty T-shirt.  He's telling me all the things our instructors tell us at spin class.  You can do it!  Just a little longer!  You are strong!  You're almost there!  Push Harder!  And above all, He's looking into my eyes and saying--Watch me!  Keep your eyes on me!  I, of course, keep glancing around at the water swirling at my feet, the waves, the wind.  He keeps pulling me back--Watch me!  Keep Focused!  You can do it.  Walk this path!

And, so I step out of the boat.  And, to be honest, I'm scared to death.  I'm sinking.  Panicked.  But I keep my eyes GLUED to Him.  Except that I hear crazy splashing behind me.  And, so I turn around for just a minute.  And this is what I see. .. .

None of you are in the boat anymore!  You have all jumped into the stormy sea with me.  And it's not me alone out there trying to make it across--you girls have got my back.  And shouts of encouragement fill my heart instead of fear.  So, I turn back to God.  Focus my eyes on Him and with grim determination I start walking.  Knowing that you all are there, with me, every step of the way.  

So, thank you, for everything last night.  It was wonderful and it will be a moment in my life that I treasure for ALWAYS!  I love each one of you!  Renae

                                                     TOGETHER WE ARE STRONG. . . . 

FEBRUARY 21 FIRST CHEMO TREATMENT

Scary.  That about sums things up.  I can't begin to describe the emotions of this day.  To feel absolutely healthy and strong and to walk into this room to have toxins put into every cell of my body seems so wrong in so many ways.  It is all so unbelieveable. . . .

We have made the decision to go with Dr. Kevin Fox at the University of Pennsylvania.  I will need 16 weeks of chemo and 4-6 weeks of radiation treatments after that.  I receive my treatments every other week--for a total of 8 treatments.  For all of you medical buffs--I am receiving Adriamycin and Cytoxan for the first 4 treatments and Taxal and Herceptin for the last 4 treatments.  If you notice in the picture the medication is put through my body with a port (up towards my shoulder) instead of through an IV in my arm.  The port is under my skin and had to be surgically placed.  I was really resisting the port initially, but after doing much research, decided that this might be the better way to go.  I was very nervous about using it for the first time, but all went well.

When I go down for my treatments, I meet with my doctor and nurse practitioner who are in charge of my treatment.  We discuss side effects, questions, etc.  After that, they test my blood to be sure platelets and white/red cell counts are strong enough.  I was very apprehensive about the unknowns of the treatment, but was pleasantly surprised when I found out that when I receive my treatments I am in a large, private room with a huge window looking outside.  There is a recliner and plenty of room for visitors.  The nurses are wonderful and do everything in their power to make it a comfortable experience.  There is a kitchen with snacks and drinks down the hall and the nurses quickly brought me blankets and pillows and drinks to make it through.  There were very many tears this day and every nurse understood.  I was so tired once I was settled in because I only slept a couple hours the night before.  Joel and my sister, Karyn and I had lunch while my treatments were given.  The infusions took about 1 1/2 hours.  First, I was given a naseous reducing medication and then the two chemo drugs.  The one chemo medication is in a large syringe and bright red in color.  I watched it work its way through the tubing and enter my chest for the first time.  Talk about an unforgettable moment!  Deep sigh. . . .

The doctor said I would probably feel the worst a day or two after the treatment.  He also said that the chemo is "cumulative"--meaning it will get worse before it gets better.  As my body receives more chemo the side effects become more pronounced as the weeks go on.  This week I did great.  Felt good every day and did not suffer from nauseousness at all.  I was more tired than usual, but able to be up and around like normal.  Each morning I would wake and cautiously swing my feet over the side of the bed.  Then slowly stand.  And after telling myself all was well--would start getting the kids ready for school.  Every day comes with an unknown--not sure what each hour will bring.  But thanking God for feeling good for these first two weeks.  One treatment down--7 more to go.  Already dreading March 6.