Amy's Blog

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

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Two years and 111 blogs later, it is time for me to sign off and pass my blog on to the next person who has a story to tell. I have thought and thought and, after much discussion with my mom and dad, I have decided that I have written everything I can for this blog. I have poured my heart into it and shared a piece of my family that a lot of people don’t know and won’t ever get to see.

One thing I have realized over the past two years is just how special family is. If it weren’t for mine, I can honestly say that I would not be able to survive- emotionally, physically, mentally, or in any other way. Through all of my ups and downs my family is the one thing that has been there no matter what. Especially in these past few years, I’ve realized just how much I can depend on them. My mom is a survivor and a fighter and a woman I hope to be; my dad is my best friend; my sister is my role model; and they are all my heroes.

Because of my parents, my greatest goal and passion is to save a life. I’m not brave like them though, so I had no idea how I was going to do that. Until I discovered writing in Mrs. Drury’s English class when I was fifteen. Now I can say that I write to save a life. I write like no one is going to read my words so that way I can be honest. I have no idea who reads these words, but I sure do hope that they have touched just one life in even the slightest way.

I began writing this blog because I wanted to share my story in hopes that it would help someone else get through what I went through. I want people to know that cancer is not the end of the world. For us, it was the beginning. Despite the fear of not knowing what tomorrow holds, despite the drains that made Mom look like the alien opera singer from The Fifth Element, despite everything that mom had to go through, we came out alright. And even better than before.

If I leave anyone with anything at all, I hope that it is confidence and hope. Confidence that there isn’t anything you can’t do. And hope that it will get better.

I thank everyone who has helped my family from the bottom of my heart, especially the Liesman’s. Y’all have no idea how grateful I am for everything you have done for us. It is because of you that my family is where we are.

And for everyone who has taken the time to read what this 20 year old has to say, I am forever indebted to you. Thank you for believing in me.

In the words of the great Michael Buble: “You are not alone and I am there with you…when you feel like you’re done and the darkness has won…you’re not lost.”

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Vulnerability

Monday, May 23, 2011

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The only time I’ve ever seen my mom vulnerable was when she was going through her breast cancer treatment. That was the first time she didn’t have control. I didn’t realize it at the time, but now that I do, it’s a pretty scary thing.

I’ve never felt vulnerable before. I’ve never had to trust someone with my life when it wasn’t it my control. I’ve never known what it’s like to be afraid of what tomorrow does or does not hold.

But looking at my mom then, and looking at her now, I see a different woman. I think being vulnerable, letting ourselves be vulnerable, changes us. It takes us to a place where we have never been so afraid before, but we come out of it even more beautiful than we ever thought possible. It teaches us to trust people. And when you have someone you can trust, you gain a confidence you didn’t know was there.

I think at a point in all of our lives we feel vulnerable. It is one of the scariest feelings in the world, but it’s one of those that we have to have in order to make that next step in our lives. To let go of all control, to trust someone else with who your life, will only help you find yourself even more.

My mom was 47 years old when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Even then she was still becoming even better than I ever thought possible. And she still is, every day.

Being vulnerable, being afraid, is not a challenge. It is an opportunity. It is for us to surprise ourselves with how cool the world can be when we put faith in total strangers. These emotions were given to us for a reason, so why not take advantage? Why not truly feel what they are like?

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Crossing Over

Sunday, May 15, 2011

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One thing a lot of people don’t know or realize about my mom is that she was a pharmaceutical rep who sold breast cancer medications before she was diagnosed with breast cancer herself. She was in the business for 23 years and can still tell you everything you would ever want to know about Nolvadex, Arimidex, and Faslodex. Some of her doctors even started calling her “Madame X.”

The fact that Mom ended up receiving the medication she sold, one would think, prepared her better than anyone for what she was about to experience. But that wasn’t really the case.

Scientifically speaking, Mom knew wholeheartedly that she was going to be alright on the medicines she took during and after her treatment. She made her living off of explaining how they worked to doctors all over the country. She was (and still is) an expert. But she will tell you before anyone that no drug rep, pharmacist, or doctor, can prepare you psychologically and emotionally for the effects of breast cancer treatment.

Of course it is a battle that can be fought and won, but any survivor will tell you that it is by no means easy. But then again, no battle worth fighting ever is.

According to Mom, once you “cross over” from the scientific side to the patient side, it is a completely different world. For her, it was a point of no return. After becoming a survivor, Mom didn’t, couldn’t, go back to the pharmaceutical world because she couldn’t sell the medication the way a sales rep was supposed to sell.

Mom knew how hard it was to go through what she had, and she couldn’t just smile, tell someone it was going to be ok and walk away. She wanted to stay and tell the person where to go, what to do, and how to do this and that. But that wasn’t part of her job description.

Life takes you in directions you didn’t even know existed. Most of the time I think it is to see how you handle what is thrown. Whatever comes your direction is not meant to keep you down. It’s meant to help you connect to a different part of yourself, to a different part of others. It keeps you human and reminds you what’s most beautiful in life.

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The Junior Jitters

Monday, May 09, 2011

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It’s official, I am a junior in college. The first thing my mom said to me after my last final was, “Amy, have you learned everything you possibly could this year?” My answer? I don’t know, but I don’t want to learn any more.

A while ago I wrote about the “Sophomore Slump.” It takes place during your sophomore year of college, and is basically a time when you are trying to figure out who you are and where you’re going. To say I merely experienced that would be an understatement.

I lived in Europe without my parents for a semester, trying to navigate through an entire foreign continent speaking only English and a small amount of Spanish. I had to readjust to living in the United States before my second semester, which was probably one of the most work-heavy semesters I will ever have. I lost my best friend over a petty argument, learned how to stand up for myself, and tore my ACL in my knee for the second time. All while trying to meld European Amy with normal Amy and figure out who I was.

It was a pretty exciting year.

I think, I hope, it’s safe to say that, on a personal level, this was one of the toughest years I have yet to experience. But despite all of the obstacles and challenges that dared me to be anything but myself, I survived. And to be honest, I wouldn’t have done it any differently.

Out of the mess that was my Sophomore Slump came a world of amazing opportunities. I got to live in EUROPE for goodness sake! And after the falling out with my best friend, I felt like I had no one to talk to outside of my family. But then I got to be really close with two of the girls on my soccer team, who have made me feel more “at home” than ever before. It’s funny how people come into our lives when we need them most. From these two girls I’ve learned that who I am is good enough; I’ve learned that the only thing I can be is myself and people will either like me or not, and either one is ok.

I also found out a few weeks ago that I got my dream job in college- I’m going to be a Resident Assistant in my favorite dorm next year, helping all of the freshman adjust to college life and making sure their college experience has been as incredible as mine has thus far.
Everything has fallen into place, and I can say, with immense confidence, that I am so content and happy being me. It took a lot of work and tears to get here, but it’s a fabulous place to be.

I’m halfway through college and I have no idea where or what I’m going to be in two years. Mom calls this the “Junior Jitters.” But I come from a family of survivors. And if we can get through cancer and the Sophomore Slump, then there isn’t anything we can’t do.

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Easter Surprises

Sunday, May 01, 2011

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Six years and one week ago today my mom came home from the hospital after her surgery. We got her all snuggled into bed, trying to avoid looking at her surgical drains, and tried to figure out what was going to happen next. It was Easter Sunday and Mom’s next task was to recover from the bilateral mastectomy she just had and prepare for her first round of chemotherapy two weeks later- on her birthday.

That Easter was one of the best Easters I can remember. We weren’t able to go to church, but the Easter spirit still made its way into our home. Our closest family friends came to visit, toting a complete feast and Easter goodies. All of the people we loved were there, and it ended up being one of the last Easters we had with my grandmother.

Since then, Easter has been my favorite holiday because it represents everything I hold dear to my heart: the thanks I have for my mom’s survival, the gratitude I have towards all of the people that have helped us when we needed it, and most of all, my family.

I remember the Easter egg hunt my sister and I had the year after Mom came home- we still have them, even though we are both in our twenties. My grandfather had an extensive collection of coins and, after he passed away, Grandma would put them in plastic eggs and hide them around the yard for Katie and I to find. Apparently her hiding skills got better as Katie and I got older. There was one specific egg, the last one, which we couldn’t find to save our lives. But my parents insisted we keep searching.

The final egg, a blue one, was hidden in a hole in the limestone of our house. Katie and I both saw it at the same time, and just laughed at the fact that it was hidden on the wall. I think it had a twenty dollar bill in it, which was the grand prize of the hunt, so Katie and I split it.

For the first time since I’ve been in college, I got to spend Easter at home this year. Mom flew me in from Boston on Thursday night and I came back to school that Monday. This year the four of us spent Easter with another special family, and I got to help my two favorite kids- ages 4 and 8- find the eggs hidden throughout the yard. I smiled as they cracked open each egg, excited every time they found a new treat. And I couldn’t help but think about the Easter we had seven years ago.

Like the eggs left behind by the Bunny himself, every Easter holds a new and exciting surprise. We never know what it hides, but it always promises an adventure as we try to figure out what it is.

Every time I come home, be it from school or the grocery store, I look at the hole in the limestone and smile, imagining the blue egg that once hid there, nestled in, and waiting to be opened. I smile as I think of my mom, healthy, and of my family, happy.

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Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Vulnerability

Crossing Over

The Junior Jitters

Easter Surprises

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