Today is my thirtieth birthday. It has been a hellish year. A year that just kicked my ass and everyones who supports me. This year I've been hospitalized more in one year than I have most of my years (that I've been ill) combined. I was diagnosed with MDS. Too many warriors I loved passed away. We decided I'd move into an allo transplant and made the difficult decision to have this form of treatment in NYC at Columbia with Dr. Owen O'connor and Dr. Jasmine Zain. We lost friends, jobs, hope of treatments, bone marrow, nerve feeling, hair, for a period of time I lost myself, my positivity, and my hope for a future. It has been a fall down-kick your ass-stomp on you till you can't move-bekah fell off the face of the earth (no communication) kind of year.
But…
Yes, here comes the but --
At the same time. I am still here. I AM STILL HERE. And this year, I have a shot of a cure.
Truth be told, I'm not huge fan of my birthday. I tend to get a little down for some reason, thinking, reflecting, letting feelings fly because the reality is I have been a cancer warrior (and have been treated) all throughout my twenties -- and there are three ways to look at that fact. I can be depressed and allow my emotions to swallow me whole because I have been sick since I was twenty one OR I can be grateful that I am still here unlike some of my fellow warriors who I can't help but think they should be facing this milestone with me this year or a few years that follow (Adrienne, Anne, Eric). OR I can be both. I never realized I could feel both until the last few years -- but I can.
And that's where I am this week, between these worlds. There are hours, even days, that envelope me in sadness. Tears that talk of the past, the struggle, the adversity, the treatments, the loss. But what follows these tears are reminders which lead to how grateful I am to still be here no matter how hard this can be. Because we all know if it wasn't hard. It wouldn't be worth it. And good god, it is.
This morning I received a bouquet of beautiful flowers from Anne's parents.
Anne, who is no longer with us and with each milestone I continue to think -- she should be here doing this, but instead her energy surrounds me. As do many warriors… and I realize how lucky I am, how fortunate I am, how my story is not even close to being complete.
And even though I would never wish cancer on anyone, or believe that cancer is a gift (whoever says that -- sorry it's complete bullshit), I do believe I have found the most amazing silver linings in the world due to this disease:
- I'm turning thirty today. Thirty. At twenty three when I completed my first transplant I was told by my Upenn oncologists that I would not reach the age of twenty five, maybe twenty six. Yet, here I am. Having relationships with some of the most courageous warriors and medical teams (yes you: O, Ellen, Laura, Kathleen, Emily, Renee and Tabitha!) in the world. You name a state or country and I can tell you an individual or family who has faced cancer and how they've impacted my soul. For that, I am so, so fortunate.
- I was faced with the challenge of leaving the classroom, teaching, and my entire professional life (what I thought was my greatest love), which led me to the greatest profession of all, counseling psychology. A place and environment in which I've met the bravest and kindest children, parents of these children, co-workers, supervisors, classmates and have challenged myself intellectually and emotionally. These individuals have left a huge imprint on my heart and mind. These people, this field is something I may not have ventured into unless I was forced out of the classroom -- for this, I am grateful that I was able to find my niche before the age of thirty. I found my place in the world in which I can make a difference, and I can't wait to get back to all of it after this allo-transplant.
- I found and strengthened relationships with the loves of my life. My friends and partner have become my family, cheering section, support, caregivers, and so much more. Those who have stuck with me through this journey are my earth angels. They give me strength when my well is dry. They love me on my worst days. Between my loves from Boston/Wheelock, to my original Dtown fam, my bests (Meliss, Kare, Kate), Chestnut Hill women, my HL family, and all of you. You have sent me candles, books, food, light, your friendship, his love and constant support, goofy gifts, CAKE, stunning cards, messages, tea, chocolate, voice mails, texts, flowers, and love, love, love… so much of it. I never realized how much I could have in my life, but goodness, I have so much and am so grateful.
- I love my crazy family even more. My moms. my brother. my sister. my cousins. my aunts and uncles, my grandmother, my partner's family. My relationships have changed so much, our priorities have changed so much, and when I find myself falling -- there is always, ALWAYS someone there to catch me. Celebrate with me. Love me. Support me. And walk this path with me, on days I can barely walk myself.
I may have had this disease for almost a decade, but I have lived. I was given the privilege to live this life, however difficult or challenging, however calming or euphoric. I was blessed to still be here, to prove those oncologists wrong… to live, to feel, to love. And this year, to possibly fight for a cure. I am still here on my mother effing thirtieth birthday. And for that I am thankful.
Here's to 30 -- being the best yet….
….and most of all
Here's to receiving a cure.
B!
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Next PET/CT Scan: March 17th
Next Chemo: March 18th and 19th
Allo-Stem Cell Transplant: Mid April or Mid May pending on scan.
**If you want to help me receive this cure
click
here to donate 10 dollars or more to my transplant fund.
It would be the most amazing birthday gift in the world :)
