It’s October again. Two years have passed since October 2007, when I experienced Breast Cancer Awareness Month as someone who was only all too aware. Two years. I’ve had two tears of children’s laughter. Two years of mornings at museums and afternoons at the park. Two years of starting kids in school, drying their tears, and kissing their boo-boos, and laughing at their knock-knock jokes.
Two years of lazy afternoons at the park with our friends.
Two years of kissing them goodnight, and writing madly through the night.
Two years of interviewing the top planetary scientists and managers at NASA, and gathering lessons learned. Two years of figuring out the common truths behind the stories, and weaving the stories into a draft that will entice people to read about our work.
Two years of visits with the grandparents, and the happy faces of my children as they talk with Grammy, Grandpa, Grandma, Grandpa-who-builds-stuff, and Aunt Stine.
Two years of knowing glances with my husband, and quiet smiles, and holding hands in public.
And I am bound and determined to have two more. Or even more.
The latest research shows that obesity — or even being overweight — is a risk factor for cancer or its recurrence. So for three weeks, I’ve been working out like a madwoman, turning fat cells — which harbor estrogen, which feed cancer cells — into muscle. Already, I have more energy. Already, I feel like I’m doing something ( besides the tamoxifen) to fight the cancer.
Already, I feel stronger.
Today, I signed up for a 5k walk. I think I’ll do another one too, maybe even a cancer walk. Thinking about the one I did with CE and my cousins was awesome, and I’m ready to do it again. Here are the two posts I wrote about my experience at the Race for the Cure, my first as a cancer patient/survivor.
There will be more.
Like Laurie, I’m not done yet.