A bucket list.  Do you have one?  Is it in your head or written down somewhere?  Are you aware of your bucket list or is it just a vague idea of things you want to do or places you dream of visiting?  Is having a well-thought out bucket list a good idea or is it just more possibility of disappointment because it involves the time off you haven’t accrued or the money that needs to be used for practical purposes.  Does it represent the impossible dream or the anticipated goal?  Most people will tell you that I’m a ‘glass half full’ kind of girl so for me, having a bucket list is a positive thing.  I think I’ve had a bucket list for as long as I can remember because besides being naturally positive, I’m also a bit of a dreamer.  My mom will tell you that I have dreamed of visiting Paris ever since I was young.  And to this day, it remains one of the most magical places I could ever go.  My bucket list isn’t in list format but every time I do something incredible, I think ‘THIS is something that would be on my bucket list’.

About a week after I found out that I have cancer I was told that because of the aggressive type and the fact that we did not catch it early, that I should be prepared to hear that it had spread through my body. When I heard that, I did two things.  Through panicked tears, I talked with my kids about being okay IF the test results came back with news that we didn’t want to hear.  I told them that IF we found out that I was terminal, I needed to know that they would work on being okay without me.  I needed their assurances that no matter how sad they might be, that they would work on being happy.  And, let’s face it.  Sometimes being happy IS work.  Sometimes you have to make the decision to be happy.  Every living person has heartbreak and hardship, emotional scaring that could make or break you.  But I wanted James and Molly to make one promise to me, that they would choose to be okay.  When they did that, I was given the gift of working completely on my recovery.  Because they made that promise to me, I would no longer worry about them and I could focus completely on my own recovery without the wasted energy of wondering if they would be alright.  The second thing I did was my own version of a life check-up.  Was I where I wanted to be in life?  Had I accomplished goals that I had set for myself?  As I waited for further test results, I contemplated what I still wanted to do in life.  And, overall I was thankful.  Thankful because no matter what the test results said, I was still alive and breathing.  Anyone reading this has the same opportunity that I still had despite what happens.  I mourn those tragedies that happen in the blink of an eye.  The sad stories about people who get into arguments with loved ones and then have a fatal car crash.  The people who never get to say the things they want to the people they love so much, those are the things that break my heart.  I am given the gift that many people don’t get.  I get to evaluate my own bucket list.  And I can’t say it strongly enough but I feel incredibly fortunate!!  There is not much I could imagine doing, that would bring me more joy than the things I’ve actually done.

The list includes riding camels in Saudi Arabia, parasailing on the Red Sea, running marathons with my husband beside me step-by-step and sailing through the Pearl Harbor channel on a 22 foot sailboat with friends that I love.  I have been to a ball with my own prince charming, gone to a movie premier and travelled extensively.  I’ve napped under the Eiffel Tower, been serenaded by a gondola guy in  Venice, slept in a castle in England, sang along at a  Jimmy Buffet concert in the shadow of Diamond Head, gone skiing in a winter wonderland in Austria, and drank pints of beer in Dublin.   Those are a few of the bigger things but I also have had the joy of parenting two awesome kids. We may not see it for the gift that it is all the time, but I am the most grateful for the parenting experiences good AND bad.   I’ve had jobs that made me feel like I was giving back and making a difference.  I have family and friends who I can say without a doubt, love me unconditionally and that I feel beyond fortunate for that.  There are little things too.  Things that wouldn’t necessarily be on my bucket list, but those WTH moments that stick in your memory.   I’ve kicked a shark, worked on Hole #1 of the Sony Open, been bitten by a meerkat, bubbled a monumental fountain with my twin sister, rescued animals and acted in plays for an outstanding community theater.  I’ve saved the life of a man who probably would have died had I not shown up at the right time and spoken in public to big crowds.  These are just the things that come to mind as I type this.  I know as soon as I publish this, ten thousand other experiences will flood my thoughts but that’s just how lucky I am!!!

As for where I am in life…  I’m a work in progress.  I always will be.  Not just with cancer but all around.  Just like a bucket list with items that have not been lined through.  I really want to be a better mom, a better wife, a better friend, a better sister and daughter.  Other things that I want to accomplish that are a bit more shallow include getting my paranormal investigation certification (yes, that is a real certification and no, I’m not kidding).  I want to finally make a beautiful souffle that doesn’t fall in the center.  This is kind of shitty since I am supposed to love ALL of my pets but I want to live in a cat free house. While I sort of like our three felines, I will not be overly sad when they go to kitty heaven.  Speaking of heaven, I want to figure out where I stand with my religious beliefs.  I am a believer and consider myself to be a child of God but my path has sometimes taken the bumpier route and I am easily influenced.  Here is the good news in all of this:  the cancer in my body is temporary.  All of those tests revealed that it spread to one lymph but was not existing anywhere else in my body.  I still have time to be better.  Closing this, I’d really love to know what you have on your bucket list.  Please comment because I am genuinely interested!!

I was talking with a friend yesterday whom I haven’t seen in a while.  We were catching up and I was telling him more about what was going on with me medically.  He asked me “Does it ever get old, explaining all of this over and over as I’m sure you must be doing” and I told him that because I really haven’t had any experience with cancer, it is still somewhat new to me as well.  And it still is interesting to me.  I have never had first hand information about cancer or treatments before.  Of course cancer has touched all of our lives in some way.  The girlfriend from high school who went through treatment and is cancer free now.  The friend who has a mom/sister/aunt who unfortunately lost their battle with the disease.  The inspirational stories of people who fight it.  But, first hand experience is new to me. And at times, I am strangely detached about it all.  I can talk about it and not really feel like I am talking about myself.  Some of the oddest conversations I have had, come to me in the form of comparisons.  Growing up as an identical twin, I am unusually used to being compared to someone.  People use to try to remember how to tell my sister Jackie and I apart by saying things like ‘long hair, short name; short hair long name’ when she had the shorter hair.  We once had hoodies that said ‘I’m Jan, not Jackie’ and hers said ‘I’m Jackie, not Jan’ but the naughty girls that we sometimes were, we would often switch them.  We looked so much alike, many times we switched classes to help each other out in a subject the other was better at and no one was the wiser.  We could talk on the phone as each other, break up with a boyfriend when it was just too uncomfortable to do ourselves and once, Jackie renewed my drivers license when I couldn’t get home by my expiration date.  So, comparisons have always been a part of my life.  But the comparisons come in varied ways when it comes to cancer.  There was the guy who told me that his poor friend had cancer.  That guy died after his third round of chemo.  Or, the lady who told me that her dog had cancer and that it must be easier for me because I am human and can understand what the doctors tell me.  Now, I’m not totally sure if these are meant to be comparisons but when they are talking with me, someone who is fighting for her life with cancer, it can feel like a comparison.  I try to erase these conversations from my memory bank, but it can be a challenge.  Case in point, the guy who told me that he didn’t believe in chemo.  He said he feels like anything that is so toxic it makes your hair fall out, can’t be good for you.  Ummmmmm  yeah.  Agreed.  Not much to argue about that but for people with cancer, our options can be somewhat limited and turning down one of the most successful treatment plans doesn’t seem like the wisest decision; toxic levels that cause hair to fall out or not. In the long run, the comparisons of my own are the things that keep me focussed.  When I compare my situation to those of others, I feel very lucky!!  We all can look at situations in our lives and know that no matter what, things could always be worse.  Even in my darkest moments, I can still find something that points to how fortunate I am in comparison to what they could be.

And segueing into the Chemo portion of this post, I started this blog to keep my beloved friends and family up to date on things.  Last week, I received my 2nd round of chemo and again, I haven’t had any major issues.  I almost feel guilty saying that as I know for many people who have undergone chemotherapy, it is a difficult deal.  There are different forms of chemo and I wouldn’t want to take away from their experience.  Fortunately for me, I haven’t experienced terrible side effects.  After the first round, there were two days and one night that I didn’t quite feel myself.  But, this second round I’ve had very little adverse reactions.  Slight heartburn which no one told me about.  A loss of appetite but hello?!?!  Finally, weight loss that isn’t difficult!  I chalk that up in the positive side of the column!!  I can tell a difference in my energy levels and I have been resting more than I usually do, but that’s about it.  I am trying not to be arrogant about it because I have one more round of chemo using the same cocktail that I’ve gotten the last two rounds and then my doctor will be switching things up. I’ll get a different chemo cocktail which I’ve been told may be a little more difficult so time will tell if that one will be the mix that knocks me out for a minute.  Either way, I’m prepared.  And I am counting my many blessings.  The support of friends and family has been overwhelming for me.  The simple but heartfelt e-mails and words of kindness continue to touch my heart and strengthen my soul in many ways.

I’ll end this post in a random way – just thoughts that I can’t put into a ‘C’ category or just things going on in the Workman household.

People ask me all the time about Mark and the kids.  They are handling this extremely well.  I know it is hard for James to be so far away and unable to help but he’s dealing with that by calling frequently even if it’s just to say ‘hi’.  I get sweet e-mails to let me know he is thinking of me.  He tells me that when he is tired or needs a little inspiration, he looks at his pink bracelet that he always wears.  He has been going to church a few times a week and I know that he is feeling stronger and has a renewed faith through it all.  I am so glad he has such a wonderful girlfriend who knows me, who we all love  and who is there by his side.  Jacqueline Molly has the ‘pleasure’ of dealing with the day-to-day. She gets a morning shot of what I call cancer juice, a mixture of juiced/blended vegetables in a glass. She is also keenly aware of my weekly doctor appointments, chemo dates and other details that involve a mom battling with cancer.  I was sad to have missed her first volleyball game of the year last weekend.  I had chemo on a Thursday and she left for England on Friday.  It hasn’t been advisable to be too far from my doctors the first 48 hours after chemo so we weren’t able to go and cheer her on. Despite it all, she and James have handled this well.  They both know that their mom can be a little stubborn so they know as well as I do that this is just temporary.  As for Mark, he’s the rock he always has been.  He tells me that my job is to rest when I need to, submit to my weekly white blood cell checks, sit there and play nice when it’s time to be in one place for hours at a time during my chemo drips and he takes care of the rest.  He is the best secretary ever, keeping paperwork, prescriptions, insurance stuff and dates firmly organized and accounted for.  I know this must be hard for him too, but he is sailing along as solid as he always has been.  I am so incredibly thankful for my cool family.

It’s birthday week here in our house!!  Jackie turns sixteen tomorrow.  I know all moms say this, but I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!!!  I am in denial!!  Kids in Europe cannot drive at 16 so while it is still that coming of age birthday, it can sometimes be a little anti-climatic in comparison to her stateside friends who post pictures with their shiny new drivers licenses.  I’m sad that she doesn’t get that experience but in reality, as I get older, 16 just feels too young to drive.  She will however, be able to buy and consume alcohol here in Europe.  That brings on a whole new set of concerns but Jackie is pretty focussed academically and with her involvement in sports so I am not incredibly worried.

I’m sure the upcoming week will be detailed further in a future blog, but all good things here at the end of September.  The opening of The Real Inspector Hound at the community theater where I feel a part of my heart and soul resides.  I’ve had the pleasure of working with a couple of my favorite thespians this week.  I’ve been line reading to assist in their memorization and I can’t help but get lost in the humor of the play.  I can’t wait to see it translated on stage Thursday on opening night.  Next up, is Oktoberfest!!  I’ve lived in Europe for four years now and I still feel like Oktoberfest should be in October, but who cares! Bring it on in September and I’ll still go.  It’s a fun glimpse into the German culture if just for a few nights.  SHAPE does its own version and many attendees dress up in lederhosen and dirndl’s.  Authentic German musicians play live every night.  A few nights of singing and dancing and it wouldn’t be complete without the mugs of German beer and food that is served.  I’m looking forward to meeting up with our friends to partake in the once a year tradition that is Oktoberfest.  Also rounding out our month is The Color Run.  I am so excited about this one.  Ever since I heard about Color Runs, I’ve wanted to participate in one.  When I heard that there was one coming to Brussels, I was signed up within the opening hour of registration.  I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that I feel incredibly honored that there is a group of people doing this in support of my battle with breast cancer so I will be running this with many friends by my side and I cannot wait!!  Besides all of the fun things on my calendar, I also have to say that I get an abundance of joy from my day-to-day life.  I have a job that feels like I can make a difference.  I have the best co-workers who are also my very good friends.  I am happy and healthy (besides the cancer thing) in ways that I can only count as blessings.

Hair is a complicated subject.  We curse it when it won’t curl or straighten the way we want it to, we cry when we get bad haircuts, we cut our own bangs and almost always regret it, we want what the other girl has.  We wish we would be brave enough to cut it or color it in some bolder style.  We hide it under baseball caps when we don’t want to do anything to it.  We pin it back and pull it up when we go to the gym but fluff it out and cover it in product when we go out with our friends.  We grow it long and then we hate the time it takes to dry it in the mornings.  For me, my hair has always been very high on my list of priorities.  I will have hair stylists confirm that I actually like high maintenance hair.  I like to think I’ve always been somewhat adventurous when it comes to my hair in that I will almost always try the new style.  I will see a haircut on t.v. or in a magazine and the next week, I will have it.  I’ve cut it in a short bob at a directors request, for a role I played and I didn’t bat an eyelash.  I’ve always said that if I don’t like it, it will grow out and I’ve lived by that.  But that phrase will test me more than I ever expected it to as I find myself losing my hair to treatment of this cancer.  I’ve told people that there is a scenario that played out that went something like this:

Doctor:  I am afraid I have bad news.  Your biopsy results are back and you have cancer.

Me:  Okay.

Doctor: You will go through more tests but eventually you will face surgeries and you may lose your breast/s.

Me:  Okay.  I can get new and improved ones.  What else.

Doctor:  You will probably have to go through chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy.

Me: Okay.  WAIT!!  Does that mean I will lose my HAIR?!?!!!!

Doctor:  Probably.

Me:  I DON’T WANT IT!!! NO!!!!  WAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!  (bursts out sobbing)

I say this joking only because my doctor was much more professional on his end of the conversation but some form of it did really happen.  Almost this whole time, I’ve been most concerned about losing my hair.  Call me vain or pathetic or naive and I would heartily agree with you!!

When I went through my first round of chemotherapy, two weeks ago I had an oncology doctor explain the different types of chemo drugs that I would be getting.  He told me of some of the unpleasant side effects that I might experience and one included the loss of my hair.  I found it absolutely incredible that this would be mentioned so soon.  So, when the doctor left and I was with the nurses who would be administering my chemo, I asked if it was really true. That I might see hair loss as early as one treatment.  They confirmed those fears and said that almost everyone who got the chemo that I would be getting would notice significant hair loss by the time they came back for their second round.  They (like others) gave me the advice to just shave it off when I started noticing it.  I had to remind them that they were talking about a time frame of only three weeks and they said that often by the time a patient comes in for their second round, they’ve already experienced the loss of their hair.  I couldn’t believe it.  In fact, I didn’t.  They also told me I’d be nauseous and sick and sore and I went to the gym the following three days after chemo so I was certain that I would escape the impending hair loss.  Imagine my surprise when about a week after chemo, I started noticing hair coming out.  Only in strands so it wasn’t a lot.  A tiny bit when I washed my hair or on my pillow in the morning.  Not a huge big deal.  I convinced myself that it might just thin out a bit.  Then Wednesday came.  As I washed it, I saw clumps of it going down the drain.  I ran my fingers through my wet hair and it fell out in my hands.  I am not talking about just a few strands.  Alarming amounts of hair.  I went to work and some of my favorite co-workers were in the front office and I showed them what would happen if I just brushed it with my fingers.  I think they were as alarmed as I was only they did what true friends do, they put their arms around me and assured me that it was all going to be okay no matter what.

In an effort to transition into the hair loss, I decided to cut it really short.  I think I thought that it would buy me some time.  Or that I wouldn’t obsess about it because it wasn’t coming out in long handfuls of hair.  I thought that short hair falling out would be less noticeable if only by me.  As I sat in the chair with a picture of Natalie Portman (don’t get me wrong, I’m not delusional in that I thought I would look like her, but it was the cutest of the short hair cuts I could find) my sweet hair stylist here asked me “are you ready?”.  I wanted to run screaming out of there.  I wanted to throw a tantrum comparable to that of the loudest, three-year old in any public place (insert Walmart or a very nice restaurant).  But, I walked in there willingly so I nodded and she started cutting.  And I cried in that chair.  With each long snip, another tear rolled out of my already red eyes.  I told her not to pay any attention to me, that I wasn’t crying because she was doing a bad job and she assured me that despite our different languages, and our completely different cultures, that she knew I was crying because of the reason I was cutting it.  I’ve been going to this particular stylist for the last three years so she knows how attached I am to my hair.  She understood completely.  When my haircut was finished, she spent about two minutes drying what was left of my longer hair and joked that she wouldn’t charge me for the blow dry.  We laughed and I left and cried again when I got in my car.

The next morning I was self-conscience.  I compensated and wore some of the biggest earrings I own and put on more make-up than I normally wear.  In those actions, I am screaming “I promise!  I am a girl!!!”  When I walked into school the next day, I was greeted by the many friendly and familiar faces.  Those of my sweet co-workers who assured me that they loved it.  And of the nicest students in any school who said things like “Mrs. Workman, you look beautiful!” or of my favorite boys who said “You look like you could be in a rock band so anytime you want to start a band, we will be in it with you!”… and I felt slightly better about it.

This was a change that was inevitable and transitional.  And truthfully, I hate it.  I hate the haircut.  I am now realizing that cutting it short is not buying me time since it is still coming out in the alarming amounts that it did before.  I am equally obsessed with the rate of the fall out now that it is short as I was when it was longer.  My hair is a breaking point with me and I will be surprised if I can mentally stand seeing it fall out like this for much longer.  A few days maybe.  And, I’ll do what most other cancer patients do and I’ll have it shaved off and be done with it.  I have beautiful scarves ready for when that day comes.  But, there is a part of me that is embarrassed.  As if I’ve done something wrong.  I know I haven’t but there is a part of me that is ashamed that I will not have hair.  Rationally, I know that’s a wasted emotion.  I know that I will get use to the stares from people.  You’d think that for a girl who is loud all the time, willingly performs in community theater, and isn’t afraid of a little attention, this wouldn’t bother me but it does.

There is nothing I can do about this so to feel anything negative about it is useless energy and as soon as I am finished with this blog entry, I am done with the negative energy surrounding my hair.  I will be focussed on the many positives in my life.  Did I mention that I think eventually I will be getting new and improved boobs???    More importantly than hair and boobs, I am more and more humbled every single day by the generosity of spirit and love of those I am surrounded by.  Gestures of love and faith are everywhere in my life.  I have a friend who sees right through me and knows when I need to talk.  I have a friend who made me the most delicious hispanic meal for my family this week on a night that would have been difficult to get dinner on the table.  I have friends who know how important my gym time is and offer to meet me there for a workout.  I have friends who hug me when I feel weak.  I have Wet Hen sisters who will be sailing every Thursday at my beautiful Hickam Harbor wearing bracelets with my name on them. I have a group of ladies here who have given me one of the most precious gifts I’ve ever gotten;a prayer shawl, loomed with the softest baby alpaca wool by an incredibly talented lady.  I have a friend who thought of me when she was in Turkey and brought a stunning scarf for me that I will be proudly wearing on my bald head very soon.  I have a little girl in Washington state who races with my nephew who sent me a handmade bracelet and a homemade card with a stamp of her hand and the card said ‘when you’re scared, hold my hand’.  I have a friend who sent me a tee-shirt this week that said ‘I’m kind of a big deal’ referring to an inside joke we’ve always had together.  I had a lady in France tell me she was going to light a candle for me.   I have a family friend who is also our doctor who took the stitches out of my neck and chest where my port was placed who made me laugh on several occasions but he also said to me ‘every hair falling out is a cancer cell dying’ and I believe him.  I have a beloved friend right here in my backyard who is going through breast cancer too, and she faces a scary surgery on Monday and has three very young children and her bravery makes me braver too.  My incredible family has stepped up beyond any expectation. My mom and sister who call every day and hear me vent and encourage me constantly.  My sweet niece making bracelets in my honor who will be coming to see me in November with my twin (and I’m so excited). My in-laws who are supporting me from afar and are giving me a much needed break from the cancer when they come in October and we all head out to Dublin.   James is going to church at his college and I can literally feel his prayers despite the distance.  Mark went to the grocery store WITHOUT A LIST for the first time in 17 years  and got everything and more than we needed to include nail polish remover for Jacqueline Molly and who convinces me that I will be beautiful to him with or without hair.  Jacqueline Molly who is my everyday sunshine – who I can’t imagine how hard this has to be for a teenage girl to see her mom going through this, yet she smiles and finds something great to tell me about her day every single night.  I am so beyond blessed that as I type this out and there are so many people who I deeply love who I know love me back, hair seems very insignificant and that’s what I will be moving forward with as I kick cancers ass.