Goodbye 2011, Hello 2012!

Two Thousand and eleven has been an incredible, incredible year -- and thankfully it is ending in an amazing way.  A week ago my PET/CT scan revealed stable disease, and I could NOT have asked for better results.  This concludes that the Texas Refractory Arm (EBV+ Trial) IS working! Which we are all very excited about.

At this point, I will receive the infusion once ever 6-8 weeks (this will be my decision) and then scan every 12 weeks. Which means, I will fly to Texas a lot over the next six months but it will definitely be worth it.  Speaking of Texas, I wanted to apologize for not posting this sooner AND thank the numerous donors from the first few rounds of treatment, without all of you I would not have been able to fly, pay for lodging, or eat in Texas, and I thank each of you from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you SO SO much to: Ms. Lisa Herlihy, Ms. Tywyn Daniels, Ms. Karen Regan, Ms. Judy Kilty, Teri Krieger, Ms. Carrie Witting & Mr. Andrew Lewis, Ms. Alyson Weissman, Mr. John Marco, Ms. Jenna Jezierski & Mr. Ajay Siekierski, Ms. Barbara Chambers, Ms. Katy Cooper, Mr. James OHair, Ms. Alannah DiBona, Ms. Courtney Forsberg, Ms. Linda F. Davidson, Mr. Chris Carr, Ms. Michelle McDonald, Ms. Eve Braley, Ms. Jussara Berry, Ms. Caitlyn Gable, Ms. Ruth Hendry, Ms. Tianna McCormick, Ms. Jessie Oettinger, Ms. Jessica Smarsch, Ms. Karen Tully, my uncle and my lovely brother.  For those who donated five dollars or more -- thank you, thank you, thank you!

And with that, I will once again be going down to Texas for my next infusion mid to late January, and therefore, will obviously need a bit more help.  So if you are able at all to open your hearts and donate to the 'Houston Treatment Donations' on the right side of the screen through paypal I will be forever, forever, in debt to each of you. Just click on the donate button and you're able to donate ANY amount, this can be 1 dollar, or anything more!

We are also desperately looking for ANYONE with frequent flyer miles that would be willing to donate to my flights from PHL>TX and back, so I can get to my treatment this month.  If you have any available miles and would like to donate, please, please email me at: RebekahFurey@mac.com

Again, without all of the donors, and good friends, I would never even begin to be able to receive this form of treatment -- a treatment that is actually working! So again, thank you.

Although life is good, healthy, and normal over here.  I wanted to take a moment to honor and send peace to the Reed Family who is dealing with the incredible loss of Mike Reed, a fellow refractory hedger who fought for twelve years and is one of the refractory folks community most honored, respected, and loving pioneers of the cancer community.  I encourage you, your friends and family to take a moment and send love to the Reed family, to wife April, and baby Trent.  Therefore I encourage you to stop by Mike's CaringBridge Site and send a message to April and Mike's family.

You can visit and leave them a message by clicking here.

There are never any words that justify the loss of a great man like Mike; therefore, those who are refractory continue to follow his footsteps, and those who knew Mike and his family I know will continue to treat the world and the people they love around them, just as Mike has: with grace, patience, kindness, respect and love.

Sending you love and strength Reeds, we are thinking of you constantly.

As the close of 2011 approaches, I feel grateful that I have met such souls as Mike, and so many others we have lost this year, and those who continue to live with this disease.   Although there have been some small bumps in the road these last few months, it has been a pretty wonderful year and I am thankful that I get to close off 2011 with a partner I adore, a family who continues to be supportive, friends who never leave my side, and a future worth planning.

To each and every one of you, I wish you love and a wonderful New Years Eve :) 

And so does Ms. Zooey Deshanel and Mr. Joseph Gordon...

Sending all of you the happiest of holiday wishes,

the best for this new year,

and of course, love, peace and strength to the Reed's. 

xoxo,
B.

My Decembers.

Beautiful is such a certainty,
but uncertainty is more beautiful.

-Wislawa Szymborska

December has always, always been an incredible mixed bag of emotions.  It's almost the way we see the holidays, there are so many wonderful, beautiful, amazing components to the winter holidays: the scents of ever-greens, cinnamon, cookies baking in the oven, latkes in oil, burning candles, snow.  Some of us are near family members that we cherish, others who are far away send packages and greeting cards to the ones we love.  With that said, there is also the constant stress of completing projects at work, little to no vacation time, pressure of gifts, snowy roads, sleet, ice and more.  As I said, it's a huge, messy, but wonderful mixed bag.  And that at the moment is how I see most of my Decembers since 2006.

This December will mark five whole years since my initial diagnosis of Hodgkin's Lymphoma.  

  

Although there is a huge part of me that is so grateful to still be here five years after this diagnosis, through many lines of treatments, small surgeries, traveling, clinical trials, different oncologists, and a whole realm of other obstacles and forms of adversity.  There is a larger part that accepts and acknowledges that five years of my adult life has been affected by this illness.  Since I was 22, entering the work force this is all I have known through grad school and attempting to formulate a job for myself that can be accomplished while tending to a chronic illness.  Although I see the beauty in every piece of pain I experience it is remarkable to think that five whole years have now passed with cancer continuously being in my body.  And thankfully in these moments, those who do not know me, could never even comprehend the depths of this disease that soak through my skin.

Five Decembers ago was the start of an unwaivering black cloud that began to hang over my amazing family during the holidays. In December of 2006, I was diagnosed with Lymphoma. December of 2007 was my relapse and beginning stages of transplant. December 2008 after accepting that my transplant failed and I would now be on clinical trials the rest of my life, my first attempt at third line treatment failed and the cancer was progressing. December 2009, my family and I spent part of Chanukah and the entire week around Christmas at NYU hospital since my third clinical trial had now failed, taking tons of pounds off my tiny body, which resulted in leaving Boston, a beloved grad program, my final internship and being bed-ridden till March of 2010.  Thankfully, last year was one of the first, and the best holidays seasons I had ever experienced.  The daunting black cloud lifted and I hit a small remission which enabled me to run away for the holidays to my favorite part of the world: Greece, with wonderful friends and my brother.  

However, it almost feels as though my body is conditioned to receive some negative news around this time, and somehow a scan always falls right in the midst of the holiday season, this year is no different with a PET/CT scan a day before the first night of Chanukah, and a few days before Christmas on 12/19.

To say my Decembers are a struggle would be an understatement. I am grateful, happy, and pleased of how well my recovery has been in the last two years.  I do not in the least bit take any of my days, hours, or minutes for granted.  However, when looking back it is difficult to see passed the patterns that reveal themselves over and over again.  It is obviously my hope, just as I did last year, to break this cycle and to start enjoying the holiday season.  To take in more of the smells, lights, tastes, and extra time with family and friends instead of fearing the holidays.  But it is a very large and difficult task to do so with grace and patience. 

These Decembers, a mixed bag of gratefulness, hopes and fears can be daunting.  However, these Decembers are mine and only mine to speak of and experience. Whether they were heartbreaking or heavenly, I am still here living them.  In turn, I have proven many doctors, nurses and fellows wrong when fear, uncertainty and the unknown in their faces resulted in differing prognoses and predictions of my life expectancies.  Thus, it is the unknown that gives hope not only for me to look back ten more Decembers from now and write these same words, but to look forward to this December.  Because uncertainty is so much more beautiful than finality, uncertainty gives hope, opportunity for growth, and the possibility of change.  And above all, uncertainty provides the possibility that even after five years of adversity you and I still have the ability to smell cinnamon, ever-greens and snow in our Decembers. 

 -----

I am sending love and light to all of you this holiday season, a bright December to each of you, 

and all my heart and more,

b.