Saturday, April 14, 2012

Lighting the way.

Today has been a very reflective day.  Lots of introspection.  Lots of being in the present, yet past and future at the same time.  I'm a bit in love with days like these... looking back, being giddy about the future however scary or unprepared (or maybe prepared) I am for these next steps.

With all that has happened in the last few weeks between personal and professional obstacles, I feel that I am dancing to the final song at my own pity-party.  Maybe not pity party? But something close to it. Mulling over thoughts, so many thoughts.  But this morning as the clouds finally parted, literally, in Doylestown and the windows were opened for the first time in days, I am here.  Excited about what all of this has to hold, all of what I have experienced.

Recently there has been a rather huge debate if I would be allowed to walk during my graduation.  I am short one class (I complete this class in early July and receive my degree at that time).  And my school unfortunately has been unwilling to be flexible with a request to walk in May.  It is what it is... that is the mantra these days, and I am okay with this decision (finally).  However that does not take away the fact that I do receive this long, awaited masters degree in July.  A milestone I honestly never thought I would reach.

The last few weeks as individuals have been approaching me with those questions we all love, what are you doing next? Where are you going? Have you started applying for jobs? These questions have felt so taboo, so abnormal, so surreal.  The moments when I have been on this road before the rug has sneakily been slipped out from under my unstable feet.  The stop -- start -- stop -- start motion, the push -- pull -- push harder -- pull harder for your life tug of war has been so constant that within these moments of what are you doing next?  I am speechless (because the tugging has stopped, I am here, I am stable). However, if you know me well, you know that being speechless is incredibly uncharacteristic of who I am. And these next steps are usually some of my most awaited, anticipated and favorite pieces of my life.

I knew in high school where I would be for college, I knew before I graduated college where I would be working as a teacher, I knew when I was diagnosed where I would apply for Grad School since I was unable to work, and I knew when internships came around in both Boston and Doylestown for Grad school, the answers were clear.  I thrived in these moments of next steps.  I loved them, and secretly I still do -- it has just been so difficult to express them when there was such a fear that the stair case I was walking up could possibly crumble under me, at any point in time.

The last few weeks I have been completely stagnant.  Refusing to look at jobs, apartments, or areas I desire to reside in.  Ignoring the fact that I am approaching my last class of my degree, and focusing on all other things, except for what my next move would be.  Enjoying the present has been my saving grace, and I believe I have conditioned myself so much to appreciate the now, to be grateful in every moment, that the future, the excitement and anticipation of new challenges, opportunities, and a life never felt within reach.

But here we are,
and although I can't quite believe it --
It's here.

Today, and this week I finally started exhaling the present, the moments of open windows, sunshine, fresh laundry, a home cooked meal, being in the now and inhaled the possibility of next year. Inhaled the possibility of living in New Jersey, or New York, or Connecticut, inhaled the option of counseling children, college students or trauma survivors, inhaled the knowledge of new chapters, new adventures with my love, my family, my dear friends.  And inhaled the realization that ready or not, I am about to step into a world that I have awaited five long years for.

So it is days like these, my loves.  That inspire me to write, to record, to acknowledge that this was the moment so many of you have pushed, supported, and led me into.  It is the moment when you and I, myself especially, recondition myself from thinking:



look what I have overcome..
                                          to
look what I am about to do..




It is the ultimate, most beautiful, empowering thought --
and I am so overwhelmed and so grateful for it.

So, here is to days of reflection,
and to all of you
for lighting the way.

Love and light,
B.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Tides, they turn.

My amazing grandfather passed away two weeks ago -- and although I wrote about him quickly in my last post, goodness, I am struggling more with his loss than I ever anticipated.

Two years ago... when I looked like this....



I thought about death everyday. I was constantly in and out of the hospital, received hourly in-patient fluids, medications, and had very little to no quality of life.  Death for me, was so close in some ways.  I had processed what would happen if I passed, how I wanted people to remember me.  I told everyone that I loved how much and deeply I cared for them, and I let those at the hospital those terrible weeks that we weren't sure what my body would do anymore that I wanted a DNR on my chart.  My body was too weak, I had accepted what was coming -- or what I thought was coming.  And mentally, I had let go.

I replay that moment in my mind every so often, and truly processed it with close friends and supports.  And realized the day that I finally told my body it was okay to let go, it took that energy and somehow started fighting back.  It taught me as a Type A person, that I really could not control anything anymore and even with all the mental preparation, the possibility of a funeral, and feeling as though I could touch the end, somehow I am here today.

But for so long in the beginning of my journey, I was at the edge of that cliff.  Not knowing what treatment or how far my disease would progress to send me off and beyond.  Now, as I distance myself further and further from these moments, somehow.... Death has become scarier and grief has become different.  It is so hard to swallow, but as I look back on the last two weeks and how much my grandfather's death has affected me I realize I am no where close to the edge of that cliff, and because I'm no longer there anymore I now see that other people are walking closer, and it is in fact more painful than being there myself.

It felt easier somehow, easier and more secure and controllable if I was that person.  I was the one potentially leaving, I experienced glimmers of being in and out of consciousness, it was me.   As tides turn in our lives I realize only now that my grief and sense of death has drastically changed.

Never, do I wish for anyone to feel what I felt during those days two years ago.  But, never do I wish the deep pain of loss for those feeling healthy, knowing there might not be a reconnection with those lost in the near future.  I am grateful, but I am pained over what lenses I was staring through not too long ago and and over those that I am staring through now.

The tides have turned, and once again I learn to let go... to let go of the control, I so wish I still had.
And I'm sure the control, we all wish we had when it comes to losing a loved one.

Sending love and light to you and all of your loved ones,

B.


Pop, relaxing with me in the sunshine during his last days.. 

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

And our ships were sailing

I remember it well,
our ships were sailing... 
- d. rice


It has truly been a while.  There have been highs and lows; however, no news on this blog translates to normalcy with all the ups and downs.  Which is something to be so grateful for.  Each and every day of my life.


Rich and I, thanks to the coordination of Ms. Carol Hahn, Ms. Alayne Yonemoto, and the generous frequent flier miles from Mr. Steve McCollum and Ms. Cara Carpenito were able to have incredibly successful flights from PHL to the HOU area without a hitch.  We also ate delicious meals, and treated ourselves to a rodeo from all the amazing donations from the last three months of incredibly generous souls out there who have opened their wallets.  We are forever in debt to all of you, and again, I would not be having the quality of life I am experiencing now without your beautiful hearts.


Treatment went well as always.  And now we await a May scan date to see if we will continue this treatment throughout the summer.  I have now been on this specific trial for just about a year -- the longest that I have ever been on a successful treatment.  We obviously hope the results in May are positive ones.  And if so... we will continue our trips to Texas, to be among the cowboys.






Life besides treatment has been hectic.  Over the last two months, I've had some ridiculously difficult and ethically life challenging cases that have been incredible learning experiences,  I once again surpassed many doctors expectations and celebrated an amazing 28th birthday in FL with my three dearest friends,  thanks to my incredibly supportive and generous Aunt and Uncle.   Graduation is slowly upon us, as I've just registered for my final class of this program which will end mid-July.  My sweet, sweet grandfather who has been one of the very few male constants in my life recently passed and although our family is doing well, it heartbreaking to lose our glue that holds this family together.  And my Pop was just that man. So, life, continues to move.  As we continue to remember and think of the ones we love..




Throughout these times of reflection, I also continue to remember to hug the ones I love as often as possible.  And tell those who I adore that they mean the world to me, because they do.  In addition, I send my love and light to all of you and hope you are enjoying these days of sunshine, spring, and the changes that are amongst us.


Time away from the blog and the cancer world in general has been a healing one, so although I think of each of you often, and thank you for you checking-in with me.  Know, the less I write on here the more I am out enjoying a fairly 'normal' life, preparing for huge life changes: evolving from being a grad student to a hopeful working woman, moving towns, and lots of other transitions.




Life is good my friends, and I have all of you to thank for that.


Love and Light,


B. 

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Endless amounts of thanks yous....

First, I apologize that this post has been so delayed.  Life, once again has taken a hold of me and I have been lost between internship, classes, cooking, working out, cheering on the SIXERS, seeing friends and spending time with my family and my partner.  I can't even begin to express how WONDERFUL it feels to have this 'normal' chaos of work, relationships, school, and a personal life.  So much better than complaining about cancer!

However, I truly would not be here experience what I do on a daily level, if it weren't for each of you, and each of those individuals who generously, and oh BOY do I mean generously contributed to these next three rounds of treatment.  My partner and I were not only shocked, but overwhelmed at the amount of individuals who stepped forward in all aspects of this treatment from LARGE donations in my Paypal account, to frequent flyer miles, and hotel time shares.  It was to say the least, the most beautiful form of kindness I have even been a part of.. and as I said, I was overwhelmed with a sense of love, and confidence from each of you, that this cause, this treatment IS worth it.  And truth be told, it is.

So, I want to take this time to greatly thank the woman of the hour who scheduled Rich and I to fly from PHL to HOU this first infusion round, the wonderful, the incredible Ms. Susie Laws.  This woman, did not even hesitate to donate her miles.  Not only was Susie selflessness to offer these miles, but she made our entire trip easier and the financial burden that had been put on our shoulders during these infusions completely diminished knowing that such kind souls as Susie, took the opportunity to help Rich and I.  So, my dearest Susie! I can never thank you enough for making this trip happen for Rich and I! I hope you realize how amazing of a woman you are, and we are so endlessly grateful for your kindness.  All my love to you, dear!

As for other amazing women, Ms. Jen Wilkens reached out to Ms. Linda Walsh, a kind soul, and from what I've heard a wonderful mom -- donated her hotel time share so Rich and I would be able to afford a Hotel close to Houston, and a very easily accessible location so we were able to wake up at a decent hour to then receive my infusion just minutes away. Linda, we are so grateful for such amazing kindness from strangers, and thank you from a very deep place in our hearts.

Lastly, obviously not least -- all of you, and I mean a TON of you, contributed gracious amounts of money to carry us through the next 4-5 months of treatment.  I wish I could send each of you a large bouquet of flowers or a big teddy bear to show you my thanks, but obviously that would be counterintuitive :) So here are a list of my biggest supporters who make MY life possible through their kindness...


Big, huge thanks to: Ms. Linda Davidson, Ms. Elaine Crouse, Ms. Shannon Tower, Mr. Patrick Cummings, Ms. Ruth Hendry, Rene Kegelman, Ms. Kaitlin Mallouk, Ms. Annette Armstrong, Ms. Jennifer Nelson, Ms. Patricia Hane, Ms. Sandra Bruce, Ms. Judy Kilty, Ms. Erin Mills, Mr. Stephen Distaso, Ms. Mindy Newman, Ms. Katy Cooper, Mr. Larry Lewis, Ms. Samantha McCauley, Mr. Ross Blumenthal, Mr. Charles Cavanaugh (who I am attempting to contact, so, Mr. C -- if you see this, please email me!), Ms. Barbara Bosworth, Ms. Daphna Brown, Ms. Roe Blumenthal, Ms. Liz Schroeder, Ms. Rachel Coulshed, Ms. Ashkan Rahmati, Ms. Jen Berry, and last but certainly not least the Crail Family!

I thank you, my good dear friends, acquaintances, fellow HL warriors, strangers whom I've never met, I thank all of you for making these treatments a reality for me, and to have the ability to bring a care giver with me to handle the stress and chaos of treatment.

I am forever in debt to all of you, and can honestly, never thank you all enough.
Just know, you are creating normalcy and life for someone who is living each moment as it is her last.
And I will continue to do that, not only for myself, but to honor those who have contributed to this treatment cause.

Next Round will happen in early March! And we are mentally and financially ready!
Sending Love and Light,

B.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Check-in, Texas Style!

Just wanted to write a quick note that the January treatment round is finally complete, and we are finally home from our travels.  I have many, many thanks to give from those who donated frequent flyer miles, to a hotel time-share, to paypal account for our pecan pie fund, and so much else!  My family, my partner, and I were overwhelmed at the amount of outreach and generosity and we sincerely could never thank you all enough.  Since, I am still catching my breath from receiving treatment yesterday morning, and flying out last night, I will be posting a LARGE thank you response in the next few days of those who were involved with making this treatment round happen.

For now, just know, we enjoyed 24 hours (and possibly 8 of those hours) outside in the warm weather, with great food, good company and a quick treatment.






Just wanted to let you all know though, we are home, safe and sound! And can never thank you all enough for sending me to Texas to receive this treatment.   Here's to a zero-side effect treatment, friends around the world, the best BBQ in the country, great pecan pie, health and normalcy! 



Sending light and love to all of you,

B!

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Destination: Texas, Frequent Flyer Miles needed!

Twenty twelve is starting out with a BANG.  The Texas EBV+ positive vaccine is working and we are set to begin to make dates for flights! Therefore my partner and I are desperate to attempt to fly both of us down this round since I will be flying out of Houston the same day as my infusion, and probably won't be feeling too well.  Dr. Bollard has decided that I will receive these infusions every six weeks until the cancer begins to progress... we're hoping I will be able to stay this for a long time coming, since this vaccine does not cause ANY side effects nor is there any toxicity levels: the truth is, I haven't felt this good since I was twenty-two, it's so amazing to finally have my life back :)

Anyway! Back on topic -- Due to my lovely internship schedule, I will have to fly down on a Sunday in January,  infuse on a Monday morning, and fly back Monday afternoon/evening, just in time to intern on Tuesday morning.  The second round will be held in March, and the third round in April. Thus, having Rich with me on that Monday would be crucial if we are able to find flights for both of us.  But if not, I have traveled down to TX alone, and can surely do it again!


In turn, we are desperately asking anyone who is out there if they would be willing to donate their frequent flyer miles to my cause.  We are looking to fly from Philadelphia airport to Houston, TX and flying back from Houston, TX to Philadelphia.  If you are able to donate, please email me at: RebekahFurey@mac.com.  In turn, we are so, so deeply appreciative of all of your generosity and kindness in even thinking of helping me through this cancer journey and on to a treatment that is working...


If you would like to help, but do not have frequent flyer miles, we are also in need of money for food, lodging, and transportation while we are in Texas over the next six months -- please feel free to click on the 'Donate' button to the right of your screen under 'Houston Treatment Donations.' -- every penny helps us on these trips, and even a 3-5 dollar donation makes a difference -- Rich will tell you this, because if we have enough money, we splurge on buying a piece of the most heavenly pecan pie we've ever tasted at Goode's BBQ down in the heart of Houston :)

Luckily, after this sudden trip we will have the future dates of infusions, months in advance and therefore affording and scheduling flights will be a bit easier than this month, and the last two infusions.

I can't even begin to thank those that have made contributions and donations for food and lodging, for this round, I will always be forever in debt to each of you for making this treatment possible.  Thank you, Thank you, Thank you...

Again, I am forever grateful to each of you for your emotional support all these years, but now, on top of that, so many of you have taken the time and energy to write, donate, and support me through this trial in Texas and I honestly could never thank you all enough.

Love and Light my loves!
And Happiest of Twenty-Twelve to all of you!

B.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

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.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

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. 

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

I'm still breathing.

For some reason as cancer patients, dates and specific times of the year during our illness are so incredibly important to us.  Looking back towards the day we were diagnosed, when our treatment started, when/if we hit our first remission, transplant dates.  This in turn spills into big life changes as well, when I left this job, when I started this grad school program, when I started that grad school program ;) When I moved from Florida... When I moved from Boston... When I moved back to Boston... When I moved home, to good old Doylestown Pennsylvania.

There are so many endings and beginnings in our journey and part of our moving forward process is grieving over the past, so we are allowed to enjoy the future.  This November, marks two incredibly brutal, life-changing, euphoric, challenging, progressive, loving and memorable years. Two Novembers ago at 87lbs I made the decision to leave Boston, my Grad Program, my life to come home and be cared for by the most amazing mothers in the world. I packed my bag, and left behind a life I dreamed of.  And in an instant I felt my future vanish, the rug pulled out from under me, and a life now lost.

Coming home signified that I was too sick. Too sick in fact to hardly shower, walk to the bathroom, or eat. Coming home meant treatment was not working, the disease was progressing, and an uncertainty of time, my time.  You can ask some of my best friends how deeply heartbreaking these months were for me, as they became heartbroken as well, thinking  they might need to schedule flights to come home and say their goodbyes. Their final goodbyes.

Two years, a life time ago, and a life lost somehow has been an entirely new life gained.  I can not tell you how this happened besides the caring and nurturing of friends, family, and an oncology team that never gave up on me. But, it did. Two years later and in a few short months I will be graduating from this grad program, I am not only able to walk, but run miles.  I not only shower, but I intern, celebrate life with friends, and eat, eat and eat.

We hold these dates so close to us, these months that symbolize pieces of our lives.  We tuck them away so delicately in our hearts that we know when the foliage changed two years ago, or five years ago, or ten years ago -- we remember where we were, and we stop to take in the moment now to see where we are.

As cancer patients these dates, times, months, memories are so important and vital to our identity and to our souls because they are the moments in which we changed.  They are the moments that molded us into the people we are today.  These were the moments we felt the purest pain and still begged to be here. And these are the moments that although we couldn't do much, we had to, no matter what: continue to breathe.

And for some of us,
those few lucky ones,
myself included.
We still are.

Five years ago, two years ago, and today so much has changed that I could never even justify it with  words.  But for all the change, evolution, moments and memories, one thing continues to hold true...

I'm still breathing.
(and you are too...)

And this November I can't think of anything I am more grateful for, than that.


Sending love, light and tons of good health to all of you,
Wishing you all the most wonderful Thanksgiving.
And here's to lots, and lots of breathing.

xox,
B.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Texas Infusion 2011: Complete!

I finally received the much anticipated second round of texas infusions at the end of October and it was another complete success! Unfortunately due to my lovely partner having a stomach bug and some fevers, I took to Texas on my own -- and it went down without a hitch.

This is great news for the future because I was able to fly all the way down by myself without any big complications.  Although it's always nice to have a caregiver by your side, it's even more wonderful to know that if push comes to shove I need to do this on my own again, I am able.

Once again, this trip in no way shape or form would have been possible without lots of key players.  Big, HUGE thanks to my amazing brother and uncle for providing airfare for this round! And, huge huge thanks to those who donated other amounts that were able to get me to and from the airport, to the hospital, to the hotel, and back to the airport all in one piece -- while still being able to eat foods that I wanted :) Whether you donated 5 dollars or more, each penny that I received was used.  Those who donated a few days later after Texas will be used for future infusions.

That is, we HOPE there will be future infusions.  The GOOD news from this trip is we recently tested my ESR/SED rate levels and they are going DOWN.  ESR/SED rate measures the inflammation in our bodies -- in this case, it measure my cancer.  And in the past it's been indicative of what is happening with my disease.  From May, during my relapse til September my ESR has increased 10 points within every month.  This month?  It decreased ten points.  At the rate is located at a 43.  Not bad, not bad at all.

Therefore we think this vaccine might actually be working.  The game plan is to scan mid-December, and if it works? We continue to infuse every six weeks down in Texas.  That means all of my infusions for 2011 are complete! What a way to end a year -- one whole entire year without any toxic chemotherapy.  I could not ask for anything more.

A lot of lovely, wonderful, people have asked me lately how Texas was and how things are.  October was a very, very, busy, chaotic, jam-packed month.  And I have much to update but I wanted to just send a quick note that YES, my infusions are complete! I am feeling fabulous! I have recieved all of your donations! (which I will post a thank you to all the individuals this month, because I know some of you are concerned if your payments went through). And life is busy, but amazing in all aspects of my life.

It's been amazing feeling normal, celebrating with friends over things we should be celebrating about in our twenties -- such as one of my best friend's weddings that I attended this month.  I hope you're enjoying life as much as I am, and can not thank you all enough for contributing these last few months.  You all have opened your hearts and pockets to keep me healthy and happy and smiling wide!

And here are some pictures to prove it :)






















 Love and Light,

B!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Texas, Round One - Complete!

Round one in Texas was a complete success!  We were able to fly in and out within almost a twenty four hour period, thanks to our good friend Liz Masson who accommodated our airfare, and all of those other wonderful people who supplied us with enough money to handle the 120 dollar (yikes!) round trip cab fare from the airport to the hotel and other travel costs.

We have luckily booked one way toward Texas for our next round which is on October 26th due to my amazing brother who had an airline voucher, and are now holding out for Corporate Angels to find us a return flight.  I've received a lot of "I want to help, what do I do" kinda of emails lately.  For those who would like to help us out with our cab fare, food, hotel costs, parking, and other odds and ends, please look to your right of the screen where it has a DONATE button and above it says "Donations for Houston Treatment," click on the button, and you can donate (with a debit, credit card, or check) as low as 1 dollar, or whatever amount you wish!  Any money you decide to donate helps us along this last leg of our trip for this treatment.  And we so, so appreciate it.

I will definitely update more once the second infusion is complete, and can never thank all of you enough for your kindness.  Without all of you, this treatment, which we hope is truly working this time around! Would not be possible. I am forever grateful to all of you... and I will never be able to say it enough.

We hope you are taking in the beauty of Fall... it's been beautiful up here in Pennsylvania
And Lily and I are enjoying every minute of it!

Happy Fall my loves!





Photo Credit: Katie N. Ehrman at the Poconos

Love and Light,

B.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Treatment, Hotels, and Flights -- oh my!

In two days my amazing partner (Rich) and I will set course again for Houston, TX.  Since the relapse in May it has been decided that my cancer is not growing fast enough to throw in another toxic treatment (yay!).  Therefore, we are attempting the EBV+ vaccine again, and THIS time around I will be put on the relapse arm opposed to the remission arm in hopes that this arm will wreak more havoc on the cancer.

Attempting another treatment to Texas is exciting (another chance for this treatment to work) but a bit financially stressful.  Therefore I just wanted to thank everyone who has sent their positive vibes, opened their hearts, and have also opened their wallets for us to make this trip possible.  I am so humbled, grateful, and words can never express how appreciative I am for the kindness of so many individuals out there.

Originally we had hoped Corporate Angels which is a wonderful organization that flies cancer patients for free would be able to score us a flight.  However, they were unable to find a flight in the areas of our departure and arrivals in the days we need for treatment.  So, the wonderful and talented Ms. Liz Masson, generously offered her wonderful miles to me and Rich -- and we have our first flight booked!!


 Ms. Jola & Ms. Liz


We leave Wednesday (October 12th) for TX at dawn and leave Thursday (October 13th) at dawn so I am able to make my night shift on Thursday at my internship.  Orginially Rich and I wanted to fly in and out the same day; however, with this round of treatment and the obversvation period it is literally impossible for us to find a flight to arrive there and then late enough to leave to have all the tests, obversvation, ect, complete -- we would most likely miss our flight.

Therefore we had to make the decision to stay over Wednesday night, something we were not sure how we were financially going to be able to handle.  Luckily, some amazing and ridiculously generous people, in addition to Ms. Masson and her miles, donated money in the last two weeks and we will just have enough to stay at a hotel Wednesday, eat, and enough for cab fare.  I am so incredibly lucky for these people as they are making this trip possible.

So! Huge, huge thanks to: Ms. Judy Kilty, Ms. Alyson Weissman, Ms. Barbara Chambers, Ms. Katy Cooper, Mr. James Oheir, Ms. Alannah DiBona, Ms. Courtney Forsberg, Ms. Linda Davidson, Ms. Ruth Henry, Mr. Chris Carr, and Ms. Michelle McDonald.  Without all of you, and Ms. Masson, Rich and I would not  make this trip, nor would I receive this form of treatment.  I will be forever grateful for all of you and your hearts.

The last thing I absolutely hate to do on my blog is ask for any charity.  However, the trips to Texas this fall were very last minute as we didn't know when my cells would be ready.  With this first trip booked and ready to roll we are now attempting to figure out the second part of this treatment.  To complete this round Rich and I have to make our way down again on October 26th for the second infusion.

Therefore we are asking again: if there is ANYONE out there who has frequent flier miles that they would be willing to donate, or money towards the PayPal account for our next and final trip down to TX, we thank you in advance.  If you have left a comment on the blog that you'd like to donate (I believe there is a Cara out there who said she would like to), I am having trouble finding you! So please, email me at: RebekahFurey@mac.com to discuss any details.  Again, we thank all of you for sending positive vibes, opening your hearts, and your pockets.  My health and semi-normal life has continued because of each and every one of you.

Thank you again.
Sending Love and Light,

B.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

One of the Lucky Ones

Life has been full of smiles as of late.  We've received notice from Texas that my second round of the EBV+ Trial with the arm for relapsed and refractory patients is ready for me!  I will be receiving the first infusion on October 12th and then my second the October 26th.  

So, a favor to any of you who are able: We are scrambling a bit financially in regards to the flights, as the infusions are coming up.  Ideally, we'd love to have my partner to go with me as I'll be flying in and out of TX in one day and the pre-meds cause a bit of whooziness.  But for now, we're looking for flights just from PHL to Houston, TX, just for me.  So although I hate to ask for any bit of charity, if you know of any charities, or anyone willing to use frequent flier miles to help out this cancer patient, let me know! If you'd like to chip in just a few dollars you can always donate to the paypal account listed on the screen. (If you would like to donate your miles in any way, on either date, for myself or my partner, please email me at: RebekahFurey@mac.com so we could possibly discuss details) We obviously would be forever in debt to anyone who could help us, and thank you in advance for just reading this small paragraph.  

But on to to the good stuff! My ESR/SED rate remains unchanged this week, it is holding in the 40's, and we are thrilled about that. My weight continues to fluctuate between 126-128lbs, I am hoping as I contiue to gain now it is due to muscle mass! :) And the last piece of wonderful news is that since the infusions in TX are ready to go, we will scan 8 weeks post the second infusion.  This means that I will receive a PET/CT scan sometime during December, which will be the longest period of time my body has ever had time off from a scan since 2006 (pretty cool if you ask me).  If I begin to have any symptoms, drop weight, or my ESR sky rockets we will move the scan date closer.  However, O'conner says there is no need for a check-up since Dr. Bollard down in TX will be seeing me, and we can follow the EBV trial protocol-schedule of scan dates.

All in all, this is wonderful, wonderful news.  I will have the entire semester off from toxic-treatment (unless anything pops up on the radar), and we are giving Texas a second go and hoping this arm of the trial will do some damage to those pesky cancer cells. In the midst of my last year of graduate school, new cancer treatments/vaccines, and just life in general I can easily say that I am honestly one of the lucky ones, and life could not be more sweet these days.  As always, I thank all of you for your comfort, support and love and I hope you're all enjoying the change of seasons and life as much as I am these days.

As always, sending each and every one of you tons and tons of love & light :)















xoxo,
B.