FcancerLLC@gmail.com 305.998.2797

Non-Hodgkin-Lymphoma

I was only 11 years old when I got send into hospital. In July 5 years ago, I was sent to hospital  and I was told that I had cancer.

It all started weeks before that day. I wasn’t feeling well. On Friday before the first hospital day, I was at my doctor, so he could take tests with me and my blood. On a Monday, my doctor called me in the morning, telling me to go to his place. My Mom, who was at work at that time, drove home to visit the doctor with me. He sent us to hospital. He told my mom I could have cancer, but he was not sure about it.

 

As we arrived at the Emergency Station of the hospital, we needed to wait for 2 hours. They did Ultrasounds and blood tests…First they told me, I just needed to poop. Then (after 8 hours )they told me that I had Ehec and that I need to go to another hospital.

 

They called an Ambulance, which took me to the other hospital. There, they wanted my mom to wear protective clothes because Ehec was a really bad illness that time. My Mom said no and then a doctor went by, saw me and my mom and said that he will try to diagnose me now. He did an Ultrasound, like the other doctors before. Then he said, that all these red things on the screen are cancer.

 

I didn’t knew what cancer was before that day. 

 

I stayed in that hospital for one night. While that, my dad brought me and my mom clothes to wear and stayed a bit before he went back to my brothers at home.. Thanks Dad 😊

On the next day I was sent back to the first hospital because they had a Station for Kids like me. Kids with cancer.

 

Again, I went there by an Ambulance. When we arrived there, the Professor of the Childhood- Cancer Station waited for me at the elevators. He started right away with the tests  and stuff….I was 6 Months on treatment and I am happy to say that I kicked cancers butt.💪

 

I am beyond greatfull for my doctor in my town who sent me to hospital that quick.

One week later and I would have died on my holidays.

 

It was a bad but good time. I’ve met so many great new people, that don’t wanna miss today!

Thank you to my Mom for being with me everyday and thank you to my dad for taking care of my brothers. You are the best!

Cancer showed me, that no matter what, its Worth fighting and even if life isn’t the best ta the moment, you can make every Moment to a good one if you Just try and don’t lose yourself. Life is full of wonderful things and I am so so happy to say that I love my Life Just like it is❤

Stay positive People. Everything happens for a reason.

Love, Joy from Germany ❤✨

Breast Cancer

My name is Cíntia Caroline, 25 years old. I Live In Brazil -João Pessoa -Paraíba. I discovered The breast cancer last year (24 years old). I want to share The text that I wrote In The International Women’s day:

“Hi. I will be Clara, from the movie Aquarius, for at least another six months.

First of all… HAPPY WOMEN’S DAY!

“Sometimes it hurts a little. Sometimes it hurts a lot. Sometimes it hurts forever. Sometimes it hurts in peace.” That’s how I describe what I feel when I look at myself in the mirror or when I touch the place where my right boob used to be. I’ve chosen this day to post this picture because the breasts are one of the most striking features of a woman. Or at least it’s how I see them. Breasts are related to femininity, sexuality, sensuality and motherhood. Among all treatments I’ve gone through(chemotherapy, mastectomy, radiotherapy), the radical mastectomy was the worst part (and it still is), because since I was a little girl, in the early stages of my puberty, I already knew my breasts would be small, almost childish. They were extremely small, but, about four years ago, I had silicone implants put in and they became really pretty; proportional to my body. The result was almost just like I wanted them to be-the “almost” is because two scars of about 1 cm each remained at the base of my breasts, which I’ve got used to living with very quickly, they are almost imperceptible now.

People who met me before the augmentation mammoplasty and after that, notice the difference. I’ve become an incredibly happier person, more secure, more confident – another person really. I started to feel more feminine (more like a woman), a complete woman. Only after that, I had the courage to show my body and give myself to someone, for example.

And then, 2016 arrived and with it the discovery of my breast cancer; what an irony of fate…I was in the best phase of my body, perhaps of my life!, with a few extra pounds (only skinny girls know the joy of gaining a few pounds – these extra pounds were lost just after the first chemo), I was finishing my degree and so on. 

I, who didn’t want to have small breasts and was bothered by tiny scars, was now having to learn how to live without one breast and a huge scar – as if the hair-loss was not already enough, which was something that also affected me (but hair grows… breast, on the other hand…).

Well, the difference between both Cíntias/Carols is that the present one is sure that she doesn’t stop being a complete woman because of that. Nobody does. But, of course, the insecurity, the low self-esteem sometimes knock on my door. There are some days when I’m in a terrible mood and I feel incomplete again, especially when romantic issues arise. During this time of treatment, I heard about a lot of cases of women who have been abandoned by their partners – of long and short term relationships.  Luckily, for being single, I didn’t have to pass through this too (my crushes ran away, but they were just crushes, it doesn’t count). However, it’s hard to start a relationship after the treatment, even harder than before, considering that now there is the challenge of finding a guy who knows how to live with my condition of being an oncological patient (still very stigmatized) and how to see the marks of my body naturally. I, myself, am in a constant process of self-acceptance. It’s very hard and delicate. (I’ve been doing therapy since the beginning of treatment, and it has helped a lot.). Finally, I just want to be what my mother says in her poetry: “I want to be a woman, but a phoenix-woman, capable of being reborn endlessly and repeatedly from the ashes of life”.  

 🌹 🌹 ❤

And yes, I’m complete, bigger and better than I was yesterday.

 ❤ 🌹

I wish all women, especially the ones who are fighting against breast cancer, a happy day every day. I wish they love themselves more and more, and feel pretty, complete, with or without breasts. We are more, much more, than our breasts.

Xoxo, and kiss me.  😘 😘 😘

P.s.: Among all the types of cancer, I believe breast cancer is the one that unsettles a woman the most, regarding her self-esteem. 

P.p.s.: I’ll do my breast reconstruction as soon as my skin is back to its normal color. It has got this wonderful tan because of the radiotherapy (.)  🔥  ( (no, I’m not that strong – and I don’t have to be – to the point of staying without one breast for rest of my life.”

Honorcandy

 Candy Renee Barrera #cervicalcancer #wife #mother she was my world 

My Husband, My Hero

We’ve been together nine years now, married for five. We both grew up in the small state of Delaware. We knew we were the missing piece in each other’s lives. Luke made me feel whole, he made me feel safe, I never questioned his love for me. He joined the Army right after college and only excelled from there. I finished nursing school and stayed in Delaware while he deployed for a year to Afghanistan.. we spent two years apart. We never lost sight of what was important; our love for each other, our support to one another, and knowing that we would see each other again. The day I got to see his face in person again, to kiss him, to hug him.. I never thought I could love him anymore than I did that day. That was 2012, and we were 22. Fast forward a few years, and it’s 2015. We’ve moved to a new post, we’d bought a home, and life was fairly normal. He has an amazing job that he loves, Luke is a pure adrenaline junkie. But he’s so intelligent, likeable, relatable, and will go out of his way to do anything for anyone. He sees the good in everyone. He can light up a room with just his presence.. 2015 was a long year for both of us. He was gone a lot, worked long hours, but he had goals and dreams and places he wanted to go, and there was no stopping him. Thanksgiving of that year, he started getting headaches, then crippling migraines. He couldn’t sleep, eat or barely drive. But he still went to work. He’d just made it to the highest status he could in his unit, and we blamed it on stress. By the middle of December, he was vomiting and having visual changes. His doctors finally ordered a CT scan for him. I remember that day so clearly.. I was wrapping the end of his Christmas presents, it was late and I hadn’t heard from him. I called, I text.. nothing. I was starting to get frantic. I had gotten my stuff together to go over to the hospital on post when I finally got the call from Luke I’d been waiting for. I remember he told me not to panic, to not worry.. But to please pack a bag, get in the car & head to Nashville. The CT scan revealed there was a mass in his right frontal lobe the size of a grapefruit and they were taking him by ambulance to a bigger hospital. I don’t remember much of anything after that, until getting to the hospital and seeing my husband’s face. We cried. They talked about doing emergency surgery that night. An MRI showed that it was most definitely a tumor, and surgery was required. We talked about funeral plans, we told each other how much we loved each other, and I slept in His hospital bed with him that night. His parents flew in the next day. He had surgery the following day. His neurosurgeon came & spoke with us after the six hour surgery was over. It was like listening to something through a staticky radio.. Luke has brain cancer, at the age of 25. He recovered so quickly from the surgery, he amazed everyone. Then came radiation. And the hair loss. I remember the night I came home & found our bathroom sink full of his hair because he shaved it all off because he didn’t want to deal with it anymore. I cleaned it up, so he wouldn’t have to look at it in the morning. I spent the night in our closet crying and begging for it to be me, not him. He doesn’t deserve this. Then chemotherapy started, and he was sick. We spent more time at the hospital then at home for fluids, for malnutrition, for pain management.. He couldn’t eat or drink, all he could do was sleep. But we still made the most of everyday. We made sure that everyday was happy. Even if that meant laying in bed and playing cards, or just being together talking about plans for the future. He has NEVER given up hope. We found out the cancer was back & was spreading in April 2016. They gave us two options.. do a lobectomy, or let Luke live his life. We weighed our options, and he decided to go for the surgery. In May, he had his second brain surgery. He made a full recovery, with minimal side effects. He was able to return to work, and is continuing to do what he loves. We’ve had a few set backs, but he never ceases to amaze me with his passion, his positive attitude, his love for life, his thirst for a challenge and adventure, and most of all.. His unwavering strength and ability to still light up a room with just his presence. Unfortunately, his cancer has continued to come back, and he starts a new clinical trial very soon. What I want people to know is that without each other, without our love, without the support from our family and friends, I don’t know how we would have made it through these last 15 months. Even before my husband’s diagnosis, our mantra has always been “teamwork makes the dream work!” And as cheesy as that sounds, it’s so very true. No, not every day is perfect. Life isn’t perfect, but love makes it all worth while. My husband is my hero, he’s a fighter; and we will continue to fight this ugly disease together, hand in hand, with love in our hearts, and smiles on our faces. -Mary

Leukemia Cancer Survivor

I had leukemia at 9yrs old and wasn’t suppose to make it the day they found out. I didn’t know what cancer was, I didn’t cry, and I didn’t understand what was going on when nurses told me they had to feed me through my veins. My 3 brothers helped me fight through, I couldn’t imagine a world without them. Being told that one unknown day, I could be saying goodbye to them, I was unprepared for. I didn’t understand, I lost so many friends to cancer I grew close to during chemotherapy in the picture with me handcuffing my doctors because we didn’t want a spinal tap. I want to reach out to every child, teen or family to Fuck Cancer you’re not alone, I’ll hold your hand, and keep holding on 

The New Normal Is a Lot Like the Old Normal (Paul Pavao’s Leukemia Blog)

I was told to be prepared for the new normal. I had a good attitude about it. Leukemia, a slightly off version of Blastic Plasmacytoid Dendritic Cell Neoplasm (see tab above), chemotherapy, radiation, and a bone marrow transplant, and I was still alive. I’m a Jesus-follower. If my life were going to be marked by naps, day-by-day medical treatments, and a much slower pace, then it must be his will. All things work together for good for people like me, says the apostle Paul in Rom. 8:28. Life for me is about pleasing God. I’d like to do that without too much pain, but we all must accept the lot assigned to us unless God has given us the grace to change it.

I’m finding, though, that my new norm is not much different than my old norm except that I have to put on sunblock every day and exercise is nearly as effective.

  • I still am obsessed with work. My work involves not just running my warehouse in Selmer, and being a boss to the best crew of employees in the eastern United States, but also involves writing, which I love. I have so many writing projects that it is impossible I will ever get to them all. Thank God I have such a wonderful family, a lovely and enjoyable wife, and such a cute youngest daughter. (To my other children, you’re wonderful, too, but most of you have moved out! Shame on you! Manu, you’re not cute, just remarkably creative and becoming more responsible and reliable every day.)
  • I worked in the warehouse packing product a couple weeks ago. I only worked a half day, and I’m sure I was much slower than the younger guys, but it was apparent that I could have worked the whole day at that packing station.
  • I cover my arms, face, scalp, and neck in sunblock every day.
  • On a semi-regular basis I forget my past, stay busy from dawn to dusk or even later, and then, one morning, I can’t get up. It used to take at least 24 hours to recover from such an episode, but now I’m usually okay by afternoon if I stay in bed all morning.
  • I have tried a couple times to get up, exercise, and thus overcome a “fatigue day” like that. Exercise is possible, and the ability to fall asleep standing up afterwards is impressive, but results have shown this to be a really bad idea.

The blisters, which I think I mentioned in the last post, went away within a few days of stopping my sunbathing program. I guess I’m going to be out of the sun forever.

My running program has been a disaster. For a while, I would run on the treadmill real slow (about 14 min/mile pace) for at least 4 minutes. I worked that up until I could run about 9 or 10 minutes straight, but it was torture. It was terribly painful, especially in my calves. After my last injury, where my left lower leg knotted up terribly and it took four weeks to get the pain out of my foot, my ability to run had dropped back to 2 or 3 minutes, still painful.

So I dropped that program as unsuccessful. Because we moved to Cordova (suburb of Memphis), we were able to get an inexpensive gym membership. I started to lift weights, and after six weeks I am very, very slightly stronger. That doesn’t feel very successful, either.

But here’s a program that appears to be working well for me. I was stunned on Sept. 6 that I was able to mostly walk, with a few 30-yard runs thrown in, a 5K in 47:18. That is under 16 minutes per mile. When I ran a mile back in June or July, I was only able to run it in 13:59, even though I ran the whole thing. The mile was really painful. This 5K wasn’t really painful at all. It was hard, challenging, and I was sweating and breathing hard, but it was like a difficult workout, somewhat pleasant.

This gym has treadmills that keep track of my heart rate. I started walking at 2.6 mph (slower than 20 min/mile), and after a few minutes my heart rate would be up over 110. I sped up to 3.0 (exactly 20 min/mile), and my heart rate reached 120, which was my goal. Just over two weeks, I have had to speed the treadmill up to 3.4 to get my heart rate over 120. Clear, noticeable progress! There has been very little of that in my exercise programs up to now.

I’m sorry for those of you that have had a rougher route. I hope my story gives hope of things getting better, especially if you’re careful about what you eat and stay active. Make friends; be outgoing. The statistics on the health of those with lots of friends and a few close ones versus loners are amazing. One study showed that loners were FOUR TIMES more likely to get a cold when a rhinovirus was dropped in their nose than those with strong social ties.

Why not be outgoing? If you have had a bone marrow transplant, and you can read this, you are a survivor. You have peered at death and walked away, probably not unscathed. You have a story to tell, and you are a conqueror. You have been victorious in battle, just like our soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan and just like King David and so many other great warriors of the past. Hold your head high, make good use of your second life, and give everyone “what for.”

And I’m thrilled for those that have done better. I’m still on daily Tacrolimus and steroids to stave off the rash that covered much of my body for over a year. My lower legs were completely covered in rash that entire time. Tamera is completely off her Tacro, and her last post said she’s only been taking it once a week up to when they took her off of it.

Another GREAT story is Lexe Selman, who is PLAYING SOCCER FOR THE UNIVERSITY OF ARIZONA LESS THAN TWO YEARS AFTER BEING DIAGNOSED WITH AML. Come on. How can you beat that? I love her story. You MUST see the video and photos on her June 3, 2012 post. I cannot imagine playing in a soccer game between rounds of chemo, much less doing what she did.

Actually, yes I can. I could not play anything like my former self, much less like a young soccer star, between rounds of chemo, but I did play. Everyone was worried about me, but it was a lot of fun.

I remember a game of softball, after the transplant, when my thighs were skinnier than my knees. I had been walking stairs, so I could jog really slow. I hit the ball, thinking that I would surely remember that I couldn’t run, but I didn’t remember. My subconscious remembered the old days, commanded my body to take off, and my upper body was several feet down the baseline before my brain realized that I had left my legs behind. Somehow, I managed to turn sideways and roll as I hit the ground rather than faceplant.

I had someone run for me, even from home plate, the next time I came to bat.

Not being very smart, I went out and played soccer with teenagers and young men and women a couple weeks later. Same thing. “I have to beat her to the ball,” and my body took off with my legs flailing behind me. I didn’t roll, I sprawled. The moment when everyone looks at you and says, “You okay?” is pretty embarrassing.

Anyway, I thought y’all were due a little update. Back to the doctor on Oct. 11, when maybe I can go down on at least the steroids.