Big Balls and Co-Survivors

Wow!  I didn't realize it has been over two months since I posted.  My chemotherapy and doctor visit schedule has left me worn out physically, and that combined with work and trying to maintain as much normalcy  as possible, when I have spare time to blog, all I really want to do is sleep.  So I sleep as much as possible, although I know realize that all that rest it isn't earning me a passing grade as a blogger!

About the time I was diagnosed the first time, back in 2002, Susan G. Komen for the Cure coined a new term:  co-survivor.  Pulling the definition direction from komen.org:  At Susan G. Komen for the Cure, we consider a person a survivor from the moment a breast cancer diagnosis is confirmed.  Co-survivors can be family members, spouses or partners, friends, health care providers or colleagues.  Anyone who is there to lend support from diagnosis through treatment and beyond is considered a co-survivor.  Many different co-survivors may enter the survivor's life over time, lending support in a variety of ways.

In 2002, I had many, many co-survivors to support me.  It is impossible to mention every person who helped me through that diagnosis, but here are a few -  my wonderful husband, Julio, took it all on with grace and poise; my sister Cindy, who spent the night at the hospital with me after my mastectomy and made sure I laughed often; my parents, Sammie & Howard, who made sure my Alex and Andrew made it to school and pre-school every day;  my friend Wendy, who drove me to doctors appointments and made sure I had everything I needed;  and countless friends who made sure we stayed well fed.

This time around, I had all those co-survivors and more.  Pre-surgery we had to allow visitors in shifts because so many people came to visit.  I still continue to get mail on a daily basis, most containing "three little words" of encouragement.  And right before I started chemo, apparently my co-survivor friends thought I might not have enough balls to endure, so they started sending them to me.  In the mail.  Balls.  Pink balls, yellow balls, Avenger balls, basketballs, even a ball that says "my friend has big balls".  It was hilarious, and still makes me laugh, and my fireplace is full of balls.  Just in case I should ever forget that I have enough.

When I was diagnosed in May, in addition to the amazing support group I've already blogged about, one co-survivor stepped up to the plate, and proved what an incredible woman she really is (though I already knew).  This co-survivor also makes me one proud mom, because she is my beautiful daughter, Alex.  My diagnosis came about the time Alex came home from Texas Tech for the summer.  When I told her my cancer was back, she cried, which is pretty unusual for her.  After she dried her tears, she jumped into action, and didn't stop moving all summer.  Alex attended all the doctors appointments with Julio and me, and stayed the night with me in the hospital.  She was my primary caregiver after surgery, and saw more of me than she ever wanted to, or can ever un-see.  She brought me French fries from McDonalds, milkshakes, ice cream and 80's rom-coms to make me feel better when I was bummed out.  She took me to oncology appointments, helped me  pick out a great wig, hung out with me during chemo, spent a lot of time with her brother, Andrew, and cooked us lots of meals.  Finally, during the 3-Day for the Cure in Chicago in August, Alex spoke before a group of thousands, sharing our story (I'll post a link to the speech in a future post).

Alex gave up her summer to take care of me, and I can never thank her enough, or explain to her just how awesome she is.  I love you Alex!