Thursday, December 23, 2010

So THIS is Christmas.

So here we are, approaching the one year mark where everything changed for us. One year, man -- it seems it went by so fast -- so much has changed. Truth be told, so much has happened over the past 11 months that I can't remember much of what happened in 2009. My brain became completely focused on everything that happened in 2010.

I've had a lot to reflect on over these past few months. We've faced challenges that we never thought we'd have to face: cancer, surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, countless doctors visits and a hospital stay that lasted way longer than it should have. Yes, it has indeed been the year from hell, but through it all Sarah has remained steadfast to beating this thing and true to her motto of: be relentless. And be relentless she has been, the fighter within her can rival that of any boxer, soldier or samurai warrior.

Sarah tells me almost daily that I am her rock, her pillar of strength. But it's really her that is my pillar of strength. Without her, I am nothing. She is by far the strongest person I have ever met and I'm thankful that she is my wife. Never once has she faltered from her determination to beat this.

This is for obvious reasons a very unique Christmas for us. No, it's not the one we planned on at the start of the year, then again you can never predict the future. Last Christmas we were just two young at heart, carefree "kids" (I say kids because we aren't old yet). I don't even recognize the person I was then. So much about me has changed. I've tackled things no 32 year old should, things I never thought I'd face in my entire lifetime. And I could sit here and complain about it all and bitch about it until I'm blue in the face, but I won't. Don't get me wrong, I'm mad as hell that this disease has touched our lives, but I'm thankful that my wife is a strong, powerful woman...ready to take this on.

Things are getting so much better and have been progressing at such an astounding rate. Sarah is officially off the blood thinners, which means she can have a salad whenever she wants and not have to worry about it screwing up her blood work. Her hair has grown back to the point where her hair is actually longer than mine. And of course, the chemo and radiation have been done for some time now. Yes, 2010 is ending a hell of a lot better than it began. And 2011, that's our year.

Do you hear us, cancer? We're taking 2011! You won't fucking stop us! You won't beat us!

Monday, November 22, 2010

a moment of thanks...

Generally I am not one for traditions. As a matter of fact, the whole idea sort of bores me. But if I've learned anything over the past ten months it's to be thankful for what I've got. And while 2010 has been an all-time low of a year, I've decided to take pause and reflect on all that has happened.

Yes, believe it or not, as shitty as this years has been, I've learned to appreciate the important things in life. So as cliche as it sounds, I'm going to list what I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for having a wife with the commonsense to check out her body and realize something wasn't right. I'm thankful for having some amazing friends and co-workers who pulled together and helped out throughout all this. I'm thankful for my family, who were there every step of the way. I'm thankful for my pets (Tripper, Max, Holden and Bella) for providing the deep connection and understanding that only pet-owners will understand. I'm thankful for doctors and modern medical technology. I'm thankful for those simple moments that Sarah and I share when we set aside all the bullshit she's been through and relax...those are the moments I cherish. I'm thankful for the simple things in life: smiles, laughter, friends, family, walks through the park...the things I took for granted a year ago now mean so much.

Sarah is amazing. She looks great and feels great. She's back to work and things are starting to return to somewhat normal. Things will never fully be back to the way they were. This has changed us in so many ways. This is the "new normal." It's a different type of normal, but after ten months of hell, I've got to tell you, this "new norma" feels god damn good. Things are looking up. 2010 is almost over and I have a feeling that 2011 is going to be our best year ever.

So in honor of Thanksgiving, think about what you're thankful for. And cherish the small stuff.


Be relentless.
STAY relentless.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

...and then there were three

Sarah finishes her radiation treatments on Wednesday and I can't help thinking to myself how quickly these past 8 months have gone by. So much has transpired: surgery, chemo, radiation and a 12-day hospital stay...and here we are, hitting the finish line. Well, the near finish line at least, there's Herceptin treatments every three weeks until May.

Three more treatments of the ol' zip-zap. And then, a much needed vacation. She deserves it. The fact that she faces each day with her BE RELENTLESS attitude is testament enough of how amazing she is.

This Wednesday marks a transition point. Maybe that's why this year has gone so fast for us. We've gone about it with the mindset of recognizing every milemarker. The end of surgery, the first chemo treatment, the half way point, the first radiation treatment...all of these served as reminders to us that we can get through this. We're a team. We have been since the start and we will be forever.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

this is what it's all about...

I wanted to take some time to tell you all about an amazing young girl with a huge heart. About a girl who puts the needs of others in front of her own. No, I'm not talking about Sarah here (though she too fits that description).

The girl in question is a relative of mine named Emma. A very bright and caring five year old who is destine to go on and do great things. Sarah met Emma at a family reunion this summer and the pair hit it off immediately. Emma was captivated by Sarah's pink wig, Sarah was amazed by how a kid so young could hold such interesting conversations.

When her mother came by our house to help donate to the benefit, Emma came along to show her support. Then when it came time for her mom to have a garage sale, Emma noticed that other kids her age were having lemonade stands to help support charities. "We could do that for Sarah," she told her mom. And that she did. She raised close to $40...not a bad haul for selling lemonade. She was so excited about her success. And the gesture alone brightened our day.

But before she could drop off the money Emma had yet another chance to do something great for Sarah. Just this past Saturday she had an opportunity to sell hot dogs in front of Valu Home Centers. They were contacted last minute and right away they went to work. Emma and her crew of friends reached out to strangers with Sarah's touching story. It's things like this that help keep Sarah smiling.

Today Emma stopped by with her mom, Christine (all wearing pink in support, of course) and dropped of the funds. Sarah and I were shocked by what a little kid managed to do in just a days work. A lot of kids would scoff at the idea of doing a full days work to help someone else, but not Emma. What's even funnier is that she seemed shy at all the attention and thanks she was getting.

Throughout this journey Sarah has gained many new friends (and lost one), but this is one friend we know we'll have for a very long time.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

movin' right along...

It's been some time since I last updated here. I've been keeping a private journal of my frustrations, anger, joy and motivation. Don't get me wrong, a public journal is fine, but to spare the feelings of others I've decided to at least for now to keep those entries private.

But I'd be doing a disservice to you, the fine reader, if I did not keep this train rollin'. So allow me to bring you up to speed.

Sarah is finished with chemotherapy and on to radiation. And the treatments couldn't be going any better. Unlike chemotherapy the sessions are done and over with in a matter of minutes. That's not to say there wasn't any apprehension before hand. So much of what she's going through right now is still the Great Unknown to us, while we've both had family members stricken with cancer, a lot of this is still new. But with each new experience comes knowledge. Knowledge that we can face anything that comes our way. 2010 has been one for the record books and not in a good way, that said we have used this whole ordeal as a means to make us stronger.

Radiation is 5 days a week. I don't know how the kid does it. She goes in, gets the zip-zap and heads out on her day as if nothing happened. It's amazing, but then again that's Sarah. Nothing has ever stopped her from trying to lead her normal life. She's one tough cookie.

As strong as Sarah has been she still has her "moments of weakness" as she calls them. And that's perfectly fine. In fact, I have to encourage her to get angry. "Be pissed off," I tell her. A good cry, yelling "FUCK YOU CANCER!" at the top of your lungs, punching a pillow for a few minutes...these are all healthy ways to get out frustrations. Sarah's moments if weakness are few and far between, she doesn't like to dwell on the negative.

As shitty as 2010 has been, things are getting better. Her mother is getting married at the end of this month, which is a huge cause for celebration. In fact, the planning and preparation has served as a distraction of sorts for her. It's helped keep her mind of those very "moments of weakness" and on to something more joyous.

I promise to update this more often.

In all you do today (and everyday) remember one thing: BE RELENTLESS.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

keep on keepin' on....

Today is a joyous occasion. A cause for celebration. This is a monumental day of epic proportions. A day which all others from here on out will be judged by. It marks the end of one era and the beginning of another. This was Sarah's last day of chemotherapy.

The time went by relatively fast and for the most part, it went off without a hitch (save for that 12-day hospital stay). Looking at her you wouldn't know that she's actually going through all this. To me, she's still the same Beany she's always been. She still has the flicker in her eyes that anyone who knows her will enough will attest to being Sarah's trademark. Nothing's changed. I mean, really, who else shows up to chemotherapy in a dress, looking like a knockout?

That being said, let it be known, chemotherapy has been no picnic. There's the loss of hair, the stress, not to mention the emotional hell it puts you through. I cannot fathom what she's experiencing, it's well beyond my realm of comprehension. All I can really do is try and somehow understand all this and let her know that I am here to support her. But through all this she's done it all with a smile on her face. She's a fighter & I'm proud to say that she's my wife.

In the main room where the patients receive their treatment, there's a sign that reads: "Enter as strangers, leave as friends" and these words ring true. There is an undeniable feeling of camaraderie in the air. They are all soldiers in the battle against cancer. The treatment room is not a somber place. There is a ton of laughter and jokes. One lady, Annette has become Sarah's bestie.

So today we celebrate. We celebrate Sarah. We celebrate the next step. We celebrate all those fighting the good fight. Those fine folks out there with a be relentless attitude. Because that's what this blog is all about.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

BEERZ FOR BEANZ

The benefit for my wife was a huge success! All told, my expectations were well exceeded.

I first off have to thank Dominic and Collen Vaccaro. Your benevolence, generosity and compassion mean the world to us. Sarah and I are forever grateful for your friendship. You put up your home, decorated and had some great food (plus a ton of beverages). I could type until my fingers fell off, but even then I don't think I'd fully articulate how much we appreciate what you both have done. A simple "thank you" would seem inadequate, but seriously, we thank you.

The one thing I realized in the weeks leading up to the benefit was how lucky we are to have such great friends. This benefit was originally just going to be a small gathering of friends, what it became was so much more than we could ever have imagined. It just goes to show you what happens when people pull together. We grossly underestimated how many baskets there would be, so much so we had to get another tent and somehow snag another table.

It was just so overwhelming to see this all come together. From the baskets, the food, the donations and the silent auction items...I would have never thought would turn out so epic. This benefit literally started as an idea in Dom's basement. I'll never forget it's humble inception; it was one of the first nights I had gone out since Sarah was diagnosed and we're having a beer in his basement and he turned to me and said: "Dude, we gotta do something." I was reluctant to accept any help, because that's just how I am, but Dominic wouldn't take no for an answer. And he and Colleen quickly got the ball rolling. What's amazing is that they never told us "This benefit it too big, let's scale back." Instead, they said "Let's go all out." And that they did.

What was most eye opening to me was how many people pitched in. Our friends are great people who just want to help and for that, I am forever grateful. Buffalo is truly the City of Good Neighbors.

I say a lot of times how much Sarah inspires me, but after last night I realize that she not only inspires me, but she inspires others. But more-so, the benefaction that was on display last night inspired me. And for that, I thank you all. benefaction that was on display last night was downright life-changing. You are all marvelous and wonderful people. I love you all.
Be relentless.