The Resilient Widow

One year ago today, early in the morning, I was being prepped for surgery at the Stanford University Cancer Center. The decision to have the surgery was one that had been weighing on my mind for months one end. Should I risk it despite the grim percentage of success? Should I forgo the surgery and live my life until the cancer is too much for my body to handle? It was, by far, the biggest decision I have ever had to make. But boy am I glad I chose surgery! Although that morning was full of nerves and anxiousness, I was ready. I kissed my loved ones goodbye, shed a few tears, and got wheeled back into the operating room. And then everything went dark. I remember waking up and asking right away whether or not I was cancer free, and I think I remember them telling me, "yes." But it wasn't until day two when it really sank in. CANCER FREE. Wow. I had been waiting to hear those words for a very long time. That was the day I remember thinking how blessed I was. That was the

Well, hello there! It has been far too long since I have last posted. It has been over three months! In my last blog, I mentioned that I was tired of living in the "transitional phase" of life, and that I was was ready to start living my life! And boy did I start living. The last three past months have been full of so many wonderful things, as well as some fear, anxiety and unexpected changes. I do not even know where to begin, but let me try! I have had a lot of dreams and goals in this "new" life of mine; post cancer. These dreams and goals have always existed, but some have grown stronger, and some were forced to be put on the back burner. One of my dreams that I, very painfully, had to put on the back burner was having children. I found out that after so much chemo and radiation that I was unable to have children. I attempted to have my eggs removed and frozen, but was only able to retrieve four, as my ovaries had completely "shriveled up," according

I often find myself thinking that I am in a "transitional" phase in my life. I remember telling myself in the three months after Dan died when I was not yet back to work that, "This time will pass. Life will start again eventually." And I have told myself that numerous times in the past few years; especially as I was laying on the couch recovering from my life saving surgery. And here I am yet again, telling myself that exact same thing; "Relax. This is just a transition. Life will start again soon." Well, boy was I wrong. I have wasted so much time in the past few years waiting for my life to start. When in fact, I am living the life that God intended me to be living RIGHT NOW. Pastor mentioned something at church on Sunday that really hit home. I don't remember what he said verbatim, but the general message was, "Don't spend so much time waiting for your life to start, that you miss an opportunity to live in the present." Amen to that

Exactly one year ago I began blogging. My first blog was titled, "27... now what?" I wrote about how my life at 26 was not anything that I ever could have fathomed, and that 27 was going to be MY YEAR. A year to become cancer free. A year to start my master's degree. A year to travel. A year to do what ever I wanted to do. Well, here I am, one week left of being 27 and I did not do what I intended; in both good and bad ways. 27 was a year of sickness, a year of chemotherapy and treatment, a year of self-doubt, a year of celebration from being cancer free, a year of self-discovery, and a year of courage that I did not think I had. To sum it up, 27 was exhausting! Unfortunately, a large majority of the last year of life was defined and consumed by my sickness. April through July was full of treatments, which caused me to be sick and very low energy. I did do a bit of traveling, which was great! However, traveling came with its own stresses, as I was lacking an immune

Throughout our lives, we take on several identities. For me, I have been Breanna's little sister, Nick's older sister, the tennis player, the church kid, the college student, and the funny one. Each identity shapes us into who we are in this life. And regardless of how long we inhabit these identities, they are special. Some of them we hold on to our entire lives, some we grow out of, and some we lose before we are ready. During the past three and a half years of my life, I have inherited some new identities that have significantly changed the person that I am today. I spent 2009 as the cancer patient, 2010 as Dan's wife, and proudly as Dan's widow, and 2011/2012 as the cancer patient once again. Well here it is 2013, and I have no identity. I do not know who I am. This is one of the scariest realizations that I have made in the past few days, and I am not quite sure how to process it.  As painful and terrifying as it was to become a CANCER PATIENT, it also prov