Started up a Ride for Roswell team in honor of Sarah. I'd love it if you all joined.
Click the below link:
http://giving.roswellpark.org/Page.aspx?pid=582
Then Click: Register (as a new or returning user)
Then sign up and then click: Join an existing team
Then type: Beanz Brigade
That easy.
The quicker I get a crew together, the faster I can get shirts designed.
BE RELENTLESS!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Waiting on a sunny day...
"It's rainin' but there ain't a cloud in the sky
Musta been a tear from your eye
Everything'll be okay
Funny thought I felt a sweet summer breeze
Musta been you sighin' so deep
Don't worry we're gonna find a way" - Bruce Springsteen, "Waiting on a Sunny Day"
Last update was downright cheerful. I was glowing when I wrote it. Damn near giddy with excitement over the good news. A bit has changed since then. We've had a few days to digest the news and had our minds put at ease today by the surgeon.
Turns out there was a microscopic cancer cell on one of the extracted lymph nodes. One tiny, rouge cell. No more than a millimeter. One tiny little fucker. Making it Stage IIA cancer. This isn't the worst news. Just a tiny road bump. That won't stop Sarah, nothing will. And I literally mean nothing. The girl is tough as nails, man.
We met with the surgeon today and he set it all straight for us. Treatments will start soon. Radiation and chemotherapy, followed by medication. Good news is that the lumpectomy went well as the cancerous lump was smaller than expected. They even took an area larger than the lump and found the rest of the skin to be healthy.
I've already told Sarah that if the chemotherapy causes her to lose her hair then I'll shave my head. Let's face it, I'll probably go bald soon anyway. I'm 32-years-old. The fact I've kept a full head of hair this long is nothing short of a miracle.
Surgery was just the start of the fight and we're ready for the road ahead. It's going to be tough and it's going to suck like nothing else. But I don't know anyone more ready to go through this. The girl is hands down the most positive person I've ever met. Her spirit is infectious. I've said it a thousand times before; THIS WILL NOT BEAT HER DOWN!
Her motto. Our motto. BE RELENTLESS. A simple statement and words to live by. We think you should live by them too.
Musta been a tear from your eye
Everything'll be okay
Funny thought I felt a sweet summer breeze
Musta been you sighin' so deep
Don't worry we're gonna find a way" - Bruce Springsteen, "Waiting on a Sunny Day"
Last update was downright cheerful. I was glowing when I wrote it. Damn near giddy with excitement over the good news. A bit has changed since then. We've had a few days to digest the news and had our minds put at ease today by the surgeon.
Turns out there was a microscopic cancer cell on one of the extracted lymph nodes. One tiny, rouge cell. No more than a millimeter. One tiny little fucker. Making it Stage IIA cancer. This isn't the worst news. Just a tiny road bump. That won't stop Sarah, nothing will. And I literally mean nothing. The girl is tough as nails, man.
We met with the surgeon today and he set it all straight for us. Treatments will start soon. Radiation and chemotherapy, followed by medication. Good news is that the lumpectomy went well as the cancerous lump was smaller than expected. They even took an area larger than the lump and found the rest of the skin to be healthy.
I've already told Sarah that if the chemotherapy causes her to lose her hair then I'll shave my head. Let's face it, I'll probably go bald soon anyway. I'm 32-years-old. The fact I've kept a full head of hair this long is nothing short of a miracle.
Surgery was just the start of the fight and we're ready for the road ahead. It's going to be tough and it's going to suck like nothing else. But I don't know anyone more ready to go through this. The girl is hands down the most positive person I've ever met. Her spirit is infectious. I've said it a thousand times before; THIS WILL NOT BEAT HER DOWN!
Her motto. Our motto. BE RELENTLESS. A simple statement and words to live by. We think you should live by them too.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
hanging on in quiet desperation
Look. I just woke up after taking a nap with the wife. So if this entry doesn't congeal or make sense or seem coherent it's because I'm still a bit groggy...
This morning I found myself up earlier than ever to face the world. I tried to put on my optimistic face, but it became an exercise in futility. I just couldn't fake it, which is a tough thing to do when the woman you love more than anything in this world is about to go into surgery. Last night she looked at me and asked "You're not worried are you?" She had this look on her face. It was so sad and so sweet and so innocent. I was overcome. Of course I was worried. And she knew that. I was scared for her. But I couldn't show it. I REFUSED to show it. So I sort of lied and said I wasn't. For her sake, I felt it was better to have her believe that I was thinking everything was going to be alright.
But that's just me. I'm always a pessimist, my wife on the other hand is an optimist. And this morning she was raring to go. No one loves to get surgery, but she was excited to (her words here) "get this little fucker out of her."
I wasn't so much worried about the initial surgery. I met the surgeon a few weeks prior. He really put both our minds at ease and everything I've heard about him was nothing but positive. My concern was whether or not the cancer spread to any lymph nodes. That's the thing, no matter what, I always fear the worst.
We got to the hospital around 6:00 AM. And waited until they took her off to surgery around 8. And then waited some more. I tried sleeping in the waiting room, but it became quickly apparent that my racing mind wouldn't let me. I walked the floors. Checked out the cafeteria. Nothing interesting to eat.
Finally the surgeon walked into the waiting room.
"Sarah Maury's family?" he asked "This way, please." He gestured to us to come out in the hallway.
I braced myself. I braced myself for bad news. Those fears were quickly alleviated.
"She's doing fine. We're going to take her into recovery now and then she's free to go home."
The doctor said they took a cluster of lymph nodes and they all came back as being negative for cancer. Great news. Awesome news. The best news I've had in a long time, if not the best ever
I was so relieved. Sarah's mom began crying. Donald, her mother's fiancee began crying. I began crying. Tears of joy. Happy, relieved, crying faces all around. It was beautiful, man. I can't even fully articulate how much relief I felt at that moment.
We all sat with her in recovery for a few hours. She chugged a bunch of water and wound up getting a stomach ache from it. Typical Beany. She was a bit loopy from the anesthesia, but other than that she was in great spirits as usual. All she wanted to do was get home. All I wanted to do was get her home.
The fight isn't over, we know that. But Sarah is the strongest person I know. She might not look it, but that girl is tough. Cancer picked the wrong girl to mess with.
We're at home now. At a loss of words of how thankful we are. Not just for the great dose of news we got, but also for all of you. Over the past few weeks we've had so much support from everyone. It was uplifting. I know I've posted thanks already several times, but seriously...from the bottoms of our hearts, we thank you all. You have no idea what it means to me. You have no idea what it means to Sarah. It means more than I can ever put words to, and for that, we thank you. We love you all.
I'm going to sign off now. There's a beautiful girl on my couch that's just begging to be cuddled with (gently though, I mean she did have surgery today).
BE RELENTLESS.
This morning I found myself up earlier than ever to face the world. I tried to put on my optimistic face, but it became an exercise in futility. I just couldn't fake it, which is a tough thing to do when the woman you love more than anything in this world is about to go into surgery. Last night she looked at me and asked "You're not worried are you?" She had this look on her face. It was so sad and so sweet and so innocent. I was overcome. Of course I was worried. And she knew that. I was scared for her. But I couldn't show it. I REFUSED to show it. So I sort of lied and said I wasn't. For her sake, I felt it was better to have her believe that I was thinking everything was going to be alright.
But that's just me. I'm always a pessimist, my wife on the other hand is an optimist. And this morning she was raring to go. No one loves to get surgery, but she was excited to (her words here) "get this little fucker out of her."
I wasn't so much worried about the initial surgery. I met the surgeon a few weeks prior. He really put both our minds at ease and everything I've heard about him was nothing but positive. My concern was whether or not the cancer spread to any lymph nodes. That's the thing, no matter what, I always fear the worst.
We got to the hospital around 6:00 AM. And waited until they took her off to surgery around 8. And then waited some more. I tried sleeping in the waiting room, but it became quickly apparent that my racing mind wouldn't let me. I walked the floors. Checked out the cafeteria. Nothing interesting to eat.
Finally the surgeon walked into the waiting room.
"Sarah Maury's family?" he asked "This way, please." He gestured to us to come out in the hallway.
I braced myself. I braced myself for bad news. Those fears were quickly alleviated.
"She's doing fine. We're going to take her into recovery now and then she's free to go home."
The doctor said they took a cluster of lymph nodes and they all came back as being negative for cancer. Great news. Awesome news. The best news I've had in a long time, if not the best ever
I was so relieved. Sarah's mom began crying. Donald, her mother's fiancee began crying. I began crying. Tears of joy. Happy, relieved, crying faces all around. It was beautiful, man. I can't even fully articulate how much relief I felt at that moment.
We all sat with her in recovery for a few hours. She chugged a bunch of water and wound up getting a stomach ache from it. Typical Beany. She was a bit loopy from the anesthesia, but other than that she was in great spirits as usual. All she wanted to do was get home. All I wanted to do was get her home.
The fight isn't over, we know that. But Sarah is the strongest person I know. She might not look it, but that girl is tough. Cancer picked the wrong girl to mess with.
We're at home now. At a loss of words of how thankful we are. Not just for the great dose of news we got, but also for all of you. Over the past few weeks we've had so much support from everyone. It was uplifting. I know I've posted thanks already several times, but seriously...from the bottoms of our hearts, we thank you all. You have no idea what it means to me. You have no idea what it means to Sarah. It means more than I can ever put words to, and for that, we thank you. We love you all.
I'm going to sign off now. There's a beautiful girl on my couch that's just begging to be cuddled with (gently though, I mean she did have surgery today).
BE RELENTLESS.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The girl behind the story...
Last entry I shared with you some insight from my wife on the battle she's facing. With this entry I figured I should tell you a bit about the girl herself. Looking at the list of subscribers, I can see that some of you may have never met her, so you probably don't know how special she is.
First things first. I should tell you how we met, because we love telling people the story. Sarah and I met way back in 1998. We literally bumped into each other at a concert -- well, she was pushed into me and I caught her -- and the rest is history. We've been together since then. I've learned a lot about her over the years. I know when she gets really excited she let's out this high pitch squeal, which is adorable. I also know that she has more shoes in her closet than I've ever had in my entire life so far. She's the best thing ever.
My nickname for her is Beans. In fact I rarely call her "Sarah," though her name is tattooed on my arm. She has an amazing smile and the cutest green eyes ever.
Sarah loves a lot of things. Not just me, but I like to think I'm up there on that list. She loves cats (we have three of them: Max, Tripper & Holden). She absolutely LOVES bacon. She loves shopping. She loves sleeping in. She loves her job and the people she works with. She loves her family & friends. She loves life. Like I said, she's the best thing ever.
Over the years she's even learned to love the things that I love. She started listening to the band Rush (whom prior to meeting me she wrote off as "dreadful"). She became a die hard Red Sox fan, we even went to Boston for a game on our honeymoon. In fact she follows all the sports teams that I'm a fan of. She's a Boston Bruins fan...well, she has a crush on Milan Lucic, but still she is a fan nonetheless.
No matter what she does in life, she has the most positive outlook. Whether it's trying to beat me in a game on Xbox 360 or achieving top results at her job, Sarah goes about it with the biggest smile on her face. And having cancer hasn't changed that. Her positive outlook is unwavering. Nothing has changed. She's a remarkable woman and I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have her in my life.
But above all this, she is...RELENTLESS!!!
First things first. I should tell you how we met, because we love telling people the story. Sarah and I met way back in 1998. We literally bumped into each other at a concert -- well, she was pushed into me and I caught her -- and the rest is history. We've been together since then. I've learned a lot about her over the years. I know when she gets really excited she let's out this high pitch squeal, which is adorable. I also know that she has more shoes in her closet than I've ever had in my entire life so far. She's the best thing ever.
My nickname for her is Beans. In fact I rarely call her "Sarah," though her name is tattooed on my arm. She has an amazing smile and the cutest green eyes ever.
Sarah loves a lot of things. Not just me, but I like to think I'm up there on that list. She loves cats (we have three of them: Max, Tripper & Holden). She absolutely LOVES bacon. She loves shopping. She loves sleeping in. She loves her job and the people she works with. She loves her family & friends. She loves life. Like I said, she's the best thing ever.
Over the years she's even learned to love the things that I love. She started listening to the band Rush (whom prior to meeting me she wrote off as "dreadful"). She became a die hard Red Sox fan, we even went to Boston for a game on our honeymoon. In fact she follows all the sports teams that I'm a fan of. She's a Boston Bruins fan...well, she has a crush on Milan Lucic, but still she is a fan nonetheless.
No matter what she does in life, she has the most positive outlook. Whether it's trying to beat me in a game on Xbox 360 or achieving top results at her job, Sarah goes about it with the biggest smile on her face. And having cancer hasn't changed that. Her positive outlook is unwavering. Nothing has changed. She's a remarkable woman and I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have her in my life.
But above all this, she is...RELENTLESS!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)