Saturday, July 21, 2018

7-15-18 - Mountain bike memory

Today two guys, probably in their thirties, saw me at Nike. I had passed them climbing Sullivan Canyon. They were so nice and made my day.
Guy 1: Forgive me, please forgive me, but how old are you?
Me: Are you seriously asking me that?
Guy 1: Yes. When you passed us we thought you were amazing and said if we see you at the top we are going to ask you.
The look on his face was priceless!
I left telling him he might beat me if he bought a lighter bike. 
Pedal on!

July 18, 2018 - Missing Mother more and more .....

Going through hard times brings these memories:
I miss my mother so much. I wish I could thank her, again, for teaching me life-important work ethics. She taught me to be early. She taught me to be a team player. She taught me to never leave a job, no matter what, without proper notice. She taught me work ethics. She led by example the meaning of hard work and not expecting someone to give you something for nothing. I had my first job at the age of 11 and have held a job since then every day of my life. I purchased every car, home, and anything else with my own money.
There is something to be said for standing on your own two feet and doing your best to never let people down.
Be accountable.
Be responsible!
There are no excuses. Cancer at 30, while in court reporting school, reinforced my drive to fight through the pain and chemo, the drive to work harder. And I did. I have worked for myself since 1991 by owning my court reporting company. Terminal cancer slowed me down when I was 37 to knock out a few bone marrow transplants. A single mother, I pushed harder to provide for her. Shingles, broken femur, broken foot, fighting for medical insurance for 30 years.
My mother was never able to give me .50, but she gave me more than money, by proving to me I could do it on my own.
Thank you, mother, for all you did, and you raised five kids on your own working as a coffee shop waitress. You went to school at 40 to become a nurse. I am proud to be my mother's daughter. I am the self-supporting woman I am today because mom never gave me anything but confidence. The only tool I needed. You can call me anything but lazy!

7-14-17 - Wells Fargo bank encounter with Kings Liquor store delivery man

Kettle One memories. I am in Wells Fargo and I see a guy who works at Kings Liquor Store on Berkeley and Santa Monica. I don't even know his name, but he has worked there since I moved here in 2005. I said hello, and he looked like he saw a ghost and very surprised. He says, Where have you been, I have not seen you forever". I snuck in close and told him that I have not had a drink in close to eight years. Very seriously, he says, "Thank God you are alive!"
This poor guy used to deliver Kettle One to my house every day in that black bag when I broke my femur and was in a wheelchair. I relapsed in 2006, and every day was a struggle. In 2009, Zometa (for cancer) caused my femur to break in half, spontaneously, come to find out it is a side effect.
I made sure I had the right walker that could balance my drink to get to the kitchen after getting out of the hospital rehab. Clearly, he got to see me at my worst bottom, wheelchair, walker, hospital bed in my living room, cancer, pain meds, and not able to stop drinking. Some of the darkest days of my life, no doubt. Later came the broken foot. Another story.
I laughed at first. Then I realized how serious he was, and shocked. How I am alive is beyond my own comprehension. Multiple myeloma, Percocet and Kettle One is not a friendly combo. I must have looked pretty bad by the look on his face. Why are people always thinking I am dead? lol
Never give up. Today my daily combo is mountain biking, trying Keto diet, working, and loving my job! I am so grateful for my amazing life today, my daughter, family, grandkids, most amazing friends ever! And I am actually going to race across the sky in Leadville, Colorado for 100 miles in August.
This summer will be cycling in Colorado and celebrating life one day at a time, with or without cancer, and definitely sober. Beyond grateful!

Missing Mom (catching up on blog)

Going through hard times brings these memories:
I miss my mother so much. I wish I could thank her, again, for teaching me life-important work ethics. She taught me to be early. She taught me to be a team player. She taught me to never leave a job, no matter what, without proper notice. She taught me work ethics. She led by example the meaning of hard work and not expecting someone to give you something for nothing. I had my first job at the age of 11 and have held a job since then every day of my life. I purchased every car, home, and anything else with my own money.
There is something to be said for standing on your own two feet and doing your best to never let people down.
Be accountable.
Be responsible!
There are no excuses. Cancer at 30, while in court reporting school, reinforced my drive to fight through the pain and chemo, the drive to work harder. And I did. I have worked for myself since 1991 by owning my court reporting company. Terminal cancer slowed me down when I was 37 to knock out a few bone marrow transplants. A single mother, I pushed harder to provide for her. Shingles, broken femur, broken foot, fighting for medical insurance for 30 years.
My mother was never able to give me .50, but she gave me more than money, by proving to me I could do it on my own.
Thank you, mother, for all you did, and you raised five kids on your own working as a coffee shop waitress. You went to school at 40 to become a nurse. I am proud to be my mother's daughter. I am the self-supporting woman I am today because mom never gave me anything but confidence. The only tool I needed. You can call me anything but lazy!

Flash backs to summer of 1995 and 1997

07/20/2018 (Friday)
I received my new Medicare card. "COVERAGE SINCE 11-97" it says on the front. The new cards don't have our social security number on them.
23 years of MM, 30 years breast cancer, lifetime of running from fear.
July 28, 1995, was my official and first consult with Dr. Vandermolen and Dr. Barth, following my first bone marrow biopsy. This time of year is always an emotional time for me.
Two young and handsome men in white med coats and very sad faces explained that 98% of my plasma cells were cancer and they called it multiple myeloma -- terminal -- and I was admitted to Hoag Hospital the next day, surgical tubes in my chest, preparing for high-dose chemo. That hospital became my second home. All I could do was what I had been doing since I was around 11 years of age....alcohol! Fear and loneliness, pretty much the only feelings I knew, ever, and my only escape from those feelings was a bottle. My childhood was riddled with violence and watching my mother get physically abused.
Seven years post breast cancer (1989) for this! No medical insurance. Nobody to talk to that could possible understand me, so I thought. So I kept drinking, and drinking. I don't think I took a sober breath unless I was in the hospital.
07/28/97 - "Cheryl is seen today, in following up for Stage II, IgG multiple myeloma. When she was last seen in June, her liver functions were elevated, and she was drinking excessive amounts of alcohol at that time. She has, since, stopped drinking and is now attending AA faithfully." ???
Well, that was not true. I was fighting something bigger than I and bigger than cancer. 10/31/97, after Hoag admission and alcohol poisoning, I was admitted to rehab. It has been a long battle, some losses and some wins. My mother died when I was six months sober. My sobriety date, by mere coincidence, is on her birthday, August 23, 2009. Thank you, mom, for giving me my life when yours was taken away, but bonding us still with your natal birthday and my sober birthday! The best gift you ever gave me. The gift of life, again. If only one person is proud of me, I want it to be you.
I fought for years in court for medical insurance, so getting my new Medicare card is surely bittersweet. My most important "win" is my Faith today. A Faith that keeps me in the Light. A Faith that does abandon me.
The recurrence of shingles on my forehead last night is a reminder of how sensitive my immune systems is, particularly now that the MM is no longer in remission. I am not sure how long God wants me here, but that is how long I shall stay.
Praying for some much needed pedal time this weekend.
God bless!
cp