Blogging Breast Cancer by Sherry Baker is an article in this month's issue of MAMM magazine.
A portion of my Public Face versus Private Face blog post is quoted in the article. The article excerpts from this this passage:
I do struggle with the question "How are you?" I haven't found a consistent answer yet:
"So far so good."
"I feel fine."
"Prognosis is excellent but there is no cure, you know."
"I appear to be cancer free."
To me, it is quite the paradox that I've let my fears and emotional ups and downs show more here - on this very public place!- than in daily conversation. But at this point if I'm out socializing or at a meeting, my cancer is old news (please God let it stay that way).
If you are thinking about starting a breast cancer blog, the article contains some solid tips. It also explores the sociological aspects of blogging, which continue to fascinate me. Definitely worth a look.
I started blogging on such a whim. It was the night after my first chemo treatment & I couldn't sleep. I was wired (from the steroids that I had to take with the chemo), but was physically exhausted. It was the perfect project for the moment. For a while, I wasn't sure if I liked blogging. It took some time for me to figure out my own style and comfort zone. I was tempted to hit "delete this blog" a number of times. I'm pretty much over that now :)
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Race for the Cure
Our local Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure is only a couple of weeks away. I am so excited. This is the third year that I've participated, and the second time that I've been a Team Captain.
The 2006 race was a watershed event in my cancer journey. I was only two months out from my diagnosis. I had endured one chemo treatment. Because I was unsure how much energy I would have, I only signed up to do the one mile walk. Here is an excerpt from my May 5 2006 post:
Last Friday night, I had my head shaved. Saturday was one of the best days of my life. WHAT? How could this be, you might ask.
Well, on Saturday morning we went to the Susan Komen Race for the Cure. The weather was perfect, and we were quite a large party: my family of six, three survivors from my support groups and their families, and one additional dear friend who came out to support her breast cancer buds.
It was my "coming out" party for being bald. What better venue? I was in lots of good company! And, as a survivor, you receive the royal treatment. You have a bright pink race shirt and hat to differentiate you from the crowd (and quite a crowd it was -9000 participants).
The highlight was a Survivor Procession: you line up behind a sign that groups the women by # of survival years. So my group was "-1" but the groupings went all the way up to "25+" and we all did a little parade / rally to Melissa Etheridge's "Run for Life" song.
Then one of the girls from my support group invited us back to her house for a party. All in all, it was a very empowering, FUN day.

By 2007 I was feeling pretty good about my life again. All of my treatments were behind me, and all that I had left to do was schedule a final reconstruction surgery (expanders out, implants in). I did that the Monday following the race, so that I wouldn't be sore for Race Day.
I signed up as a Team Captain. It was a cool, rainy day and my emotions got the better of me at the end:


So here we are in 2008. I have a bigger team and more donations this year. I'm super-excited for the race. And I'm hoping that it will work its magic on me again this year. Cancer continues to wreak havoc upon my loved ones; people that I care about are coping with Stage IV. Fear resides in my heart more often than I like to admit.
Breast cancer is a sneaky, crappy disease. It is biopsies, scans, chemotherapy, surgery, radiation, and a lot of wondering whether or not the treatments are working.
But Race Day is empowering. It offers hope, enthusiasm, and support. It is a day when breast cancer can comfortably commingle with cheering, singing, and celebrating. Bring it on...
Useful Links:
Susan G. Komen NC Triad Race for the Cure
Find a Race for the Cure Near You
The 2006 race was a watershed event in my cancer journey. I was only two months out from my diagnosis. I had endured one chemo treatment. Because I was unsure how much energy I would have, I only signed up to do the one mile walk. Here is an excerpt from my May 5 2006 post:
Last Friday night, I had my head shaved. Saturday was one of the best days of my life. WHAT? How could this be, you might ask.
Well, on Saturday morning we went to the Susan Komen Race for the Cure. The weather was perfect, and we were quite a large party: my family of six, three survivors from my support groups and their families, and one additional dear friend who came out to support her breast cancer buds.
It was my "coming out" party for being bald. What better venue? I was in lots of good company! And, as a survivor, you receive the royal treatment. You have a bright pink race shirt and hat to differentiate you from the crowd (and quite a crowd it was -9000 participants).
The highlight was a Survivor Procession: you line up behind a sign that groups the women by # of survival years. So my group was "-1" but the groupings went all the way up to "25+" and we all did a little parade / rally to Melissa Etheridge's "Run for Life" song.
Then one of the girls from my support group invited us back to her house for a party. All in all, it was a very empowering, FUN day.

My Mom and me in 2006.
By 2007 I was feeling pretty good about my life again. All of my treatments were behind me, and all that I had left to do was schedule a final reconstruction surgery (expanders out, implants in). I did that the Monday following the race, so that I wouldn't be sore for Race Day.
I signed up as a Team Captain. It was a cool, rainy day and my emotions got the better of me at the end:


So here we are in 2008. I have a bigger team and more donations this year. I'm super-excited for the race. And I'm hoping that it will work its magic on me again this year. Cancer continues to wreak havoc upon my loved ones; people that I care about are coping with Stage IV. Fear resides in my heart more often than I like to admit.
Breast cancer is a sneaky, crappy disease. It is biopsies, scans, chemotherapy, surgery, radiation, and a lot of wondering whether or not the treatments are working.
But Race Day is empowering. It offers hope, enthusiasm, and support. It is a day when breast cancer can comfortably commingle with cheering, singing, and celebrating. Bring it on...
Useful Links:
Susan G. Komen NC Triad Race for the Cure
Find a Race for the Cure Near You
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