I live for them.

This will be a lovely, long update, so please pull up your favorite comfy chair and some peach tea, and settle in...

Although treatment last week was a bit rougher than past treatments, numbers and weight were absolutely excellent.  After last month's weigh in at 105.7 lbs, I pumped myself up to 110.8 lbs last week. Another five pound increase was an incredible milestone, I have now officially gained 20 lbs in the last six months after my many hospitalizations last year, it finally appears I am hovering over my normal weight (115lbs), and after the next month and Thanksgiving coming up I'm hoping to find myself around 120lbs as I head off to Greece with the loves of my life in December... A PET/CT scan is set for November 11th, and treatment will continue that afternoon into November 12th. This will be round five of the bendamustine (I will only receive six cycles in total).  My ESR/SED rates/values have been below 15 for the last two months -- this in itself is a triumph.  We obviously hope that it continues to stay at a normal rate, especially once treatment ends in December.

My energy has also been at an all time high, with hitting the road almost every weekend to visit friends and family in different states.  Midterms are complete in my classes, and it's pretty smooth sailing for the rest of the semester until Finals set in again. Although I am incredibly grateful for being able to take classes this semester, its amazing to me how I crave more challenge, more discussion, more richness from this program.  There are many nights I head home after class, missing, desperately my Lesley Education in Boston and the connections I've made... however, I'm thankful for this second chance at my Master's and know once I'm back in the field interning this coming year, another piece of my puzzle will be filled.

Aside from having a wonderful oncology team, supportive family (who I get to see SO MUCH more often now that I am living in PA, that makes me smile). I am also ridiculously thankful for every person who has donated to the 'Rebekah Fund.' No one realizes how expensive New York becomes during treatments, since we have to buy food there (and are trying to plump me up), as well as garages to store our cars, gas, and other expenses. Honestly, without all of the donations (especially from my Uncle Jay's work -- designed by JANE in a Bekah Bouquet).  I'm not sure how we would have swung it this month.  I thank those who have donated five dollars, I thank those who have donated more, you have no idea how fortunate I feel... to have all of you, and your kindness connected to me in some way. I truly, truly appreciate it.

With all of these amazing pieces of my life, the stability of treatment, and finally being able to spend quality time on campus, and with my beautiful family and friends -- most would attempt to ignore the other underlying meanings of this month.  But, what I've learned most from this disease is, that even though I may have some short-lived happiness, there are others, still struggling... there are others I love and adore that these weeks and months should not be ignored.

I find it's easy to turn a blind eye, when things are going so well for you personally.  But, without some of the people who have touched my life in the past, I would be nothing and no where I am now, without them.

October is a ridiculously difficult month in my heart. Two years ago, I lost my dear friend Scott, who I still think of every day to this ugly disease, and a year ago... many of us lost Adrienne. Though the leaves and foliage are bright and vibrant, and smiles, pumpkins, and coffee's are shared, there are few moments in which I don't think of these two during these weeks.  My heart continues to break for both families, and as Adrienne's Unveiling is this weekend,  I can't help but wish all of this -- for Scott, for Alison, for Adrienne, and for those of us who are still fighting, that this... is all a bad dream.

Now that I've entered into a new program, I am asked difficult questions (since I don't have a full head of hair yet), you can tell I've been or am going through treatment.  An older women in one of my classes continues to ask me how I do this, how I keep going, knowing that there will never be an end to treatment, why would I want to live this life?

With a deep sigh, I wish I could describe the privilege I feel that I am still here, that there should actually be others, many of us (Sarah, Eric, Jessica, Pat, Shannon, Jake), that should still be here as well.  That although I have had a whirlwind of good news, and beautiful people who surround me, I still feel it. I feel the difficulty of this disease, the rawness and vulnerability of tireless treatments, the damage and brokenness that one can feel.

Why would I want to live this life?  Because with as much pain that I allow myself to feel from others and my own disease, I have a chance (for some reason or another) to still be here.  Living.  However and in whatever way I can. And I keep going because I know they would for me. I know Scott, I know Adrienne, I know Sarah, I know they would all feel the pain, as much as I do, and have it motivate them.    For the last four years, I have woken up many mornings with the knowledge that this cancer will grow in me for many years, and I have to be okay with it... I attempt to suck as much marrow out of my life as humanely possible, and I know that when I really really live out my days, I live it for them.  I live it for those who can no longer be here.

So, I ask you, while you hug the ones you love this October, live for the ones that are no longer with us.

'She who has a why to live, can bear with almost any how...' -- Nietzche

Please send love and support to Alison, Adrienne's mother.
Wrap her in your strength and warm thoughts please.

- B