I stumbled across something on twitter a week or so ago.  An online community called I Had Cancer was running a contest called #5Words2Cancer.  Not that I think I will win (though would love a trip to New York City or an iPad for sure!), but I thought it would be a good writing exercise.  Boil down what I would say to cancer, as though it were a person, in only five words. Thoughts have been running through my mind for days, but everything that I can think of is far too long.  What would I say? Of course, I am stronger than you kept popping into my mind, but given how I feel about the term survivor, I don’t think that’s quite right.  My friends are stronger than you.  (Good, but too long.)  You taught me how to be a friend. (Why not #6Words2Cancer? I’ve got bunches of those.)  But then I started trying to think about my experience as a whole. From start to (I hope) finish. What sums it up?

And then I remembered a post I’d written a while ago on faith and faithfulness, and it became clear. I was ready for you. Sure, five years studying breast cancer to earn a PhD in tumor biology certainly gave me much needed confidence in my doctors and the treatment plan they suggested. But beyond just the knowledge to understand the big words and even the big picture, I was ready. I won’t rewrite that post here (please read it if you haven’t), but suffice it to say,  from my friends to my newfound love of running to a lump I’d found years earlier, I was ready.  I can’t imagine having been more prepared to go through something so awful, and being ready really made it a lot less awful.  So there you have it.  There are my five words, cancer. I was ready for you.

I love this photo because it reminds me of how much I am loved. I was looking at something with my friends (all but Sally were brand new chemo friends!) on my computer and kept getting interrupted by texts, emails, and facebook messages from friends and family on my first chemo day.

Wishes for a New Year

new years card

With Emma Clare’s busy Living Christmas Tree drama schedule this year, trying to find time for a family picture for a Christmas card was nearly impossible.  Last year, Sally took such lovely photos of our family just after I’d started chemo, and my hair was long and beautiful.  But it felt a little less than genuine to send out that photo weeks after I’d shaved my head.  So the back of the card featured a quick family snap with my bald head.  I’m not much of one for a long Christmas letter, so I went with the “a picture’s worth a thousand words” philosophy and just added the address of my blog in case anyone was curious.

So the year after you send out an “I have cancer, and by the way Merry Christmas” card is not the year to skip the card because your family is too busy to take a decent photo.  But after thinking about it, I decided a New Year’s card would be perfect. I wanted to highlight “healthy” hoping that would send the “I don’t have cancer anymore” message.  But we decided the back might be the place to make the message a little clearer.  And you might as well have fun on the back of your “I don’t have cancer anymore, and also Happy New Year’s” card, right?

More on the Hair: The Fauxhawk


Seems like it’s gotten a little deep here on the blog, so naturally we should head back to hair and makeup, right? I went in for a haircut last week. Now for a brief digression, I am attempting to grow out my hair.  But yes, I keep getting it cut. We’re letting the top grow out before I start letting the sides and back grow out so I don’t spend too long looking all shaggy and fuzzy.

Anyway, after he cut it last week, Dragan was starting to style my hair and mentioned that it’s probably long enough for a mohawk. “OK, let’s see it,” I quickly answered. I’m not sure he expected me to let him do it, and I really don’t think he expected me to leave with my hair all standing up like that.  But honestly, I kind of like it.

There is one big caveat with the fauxhawk, though. It turns out there is a thin line between me looking like an edgy version of me and me looking like Justin Bieber. (yikes.) And that fine line is good makeup and lipstick. Without makeup and a bold or bright lip, I end up looking an awful lot like Justin Bieber, and that’s just not ok. But I do like the hair. So bring on the hair product. But also the lipstick.

Lipstick: Buxom Full-On Lip in Havana

Pixies by Choice

A few days following my most recent haircut wearing Russian Red lipstick by MAC

charlize          michelle williams

beyonce 2                   pam anderson


Charlize Theron was one of the first celebs with whom I related when my hair was growing back in.  I still love her hair in that first picture– she is so beautiful, and her hair just looks perfect to me.  And of course, Michelle Williams has been sporting her pixie ‘do long enough to be one of the first images that pops up when you google it.  Beyonce chopped off all her hair this summer, but I have to admit being a little disappointed when she was photographed in a long wig just a few days later.  And just this week, Pamela Anderson ditched the long locks that have been a major part of her identity for decades, and Jennifer Lawrence followed suit.

It’s probably easier to keep up with a pixie hair cut when frequent haircuts are de rigueur and a stylist follows you around with an armload of product, ready any time a hair goes awry.  And of course, when they’re ready to grow it out again, they’ll have the support of that same fabulous stylist, helping them make the best of a hard hair situation.  I’m so glad that I have Dragan by my side, helping me as I try to grow mine out.  I love it short, but I loved it long, too, so we’re going to see if I can stand to let it grow.  But at least I know that I’m in the very best hands, or scissors, to make the growing out process as painless as possible.

photos: Charlize Theron/Michelle Williams/Beyonce/Pamela Anderson/Jennifer Lawrence

Missing Cancer | Scarves


A couple of weeks ago, Sally and I were at one of our favorite shops, Covet Boutique in Arlington, getting ready for a party we’re helping host this weekend.  I saw this scarf on a display and loved it.  I was so disappointed that Autumn, the shop owner, hadn’t found these last year.  Even though I’ve got hair now, I couldn’t resist tying it on my head, wishing I’d had it a year ago.  I love everything about this scarf– the soft, knit jersey, the red color, the chevron pattern, the long tail, the contrast of turquoise and navy.  As I recall, there was another print or two of these soft, knit scarves, but I can’t even remember what they look like, this was so clearly my favorite.  It almost makes me miss the bald head that required a scarf. (And if you happen to be local and would like to join us this Saturday afternoon, you can check out this scarf and the rest of our favorite gift shop– details here.)

This post is part of a series of what I’ll miss from my time as a cancer patient.  I know cancer is a serious thing, not everyone tolerates treatment well, and not everyone recovers.  I don’t mean to offend by making light of a serious subject.  These posts are just a glimpse of my efforts to make the best of my situation—to find the silver linings wherever I can.


sprinkles pinkwashing run lipstick chemo

Happy October, all.  Last year as the nation “celebrated” breast cancer awareness month, my friends, family, and I became acutely aware of breast cancer. To anyone in the throes of a new breast cancer diagnosis, I sympathize with you. October must be the worst time to be diagnosed with breast cancer.  Yes, Yoplait, I am aware.  Yes, NFL, those big guys do look a little silly in pink helmets.  Yes, 5 hour energy, I have heard of breast cancer.  (5 hour energy, really?  Still don’t quite get that one.  I’d think that stuff would give cancer to mice for sure.) Back in my days in the lab, I thought the idea of saving, washing, and mailing in pink yogurt lids was laughable.  Why not just write a big check and be done with it, Yoplait? Why do I have to do all that work? And all the athletes in their pink gear?  I was outraged that they spent the money on that gear and didn’t just donate it to a good cause.  Then my husband informed me that they auction them off and donate the proceeds, and apparently people will pay a premium for sweaty game-worn gear.  So there’s that.

But still, I can’t help but feeling like all the companies that are slapping a pink ribbon on anything they can think of are capitalizing on a life threatening disease.  Maybe it’s just an emotional reaction, and I know plenty of “survivors” who love them some pink ribbon swag. But I can’t help but feel a little dirty thinking of the money companies are making schilling all their pink products.

That said, I think money for education is fine (though are there really women who don’t know they should get yearly mammograms?) and I think money for research is great. I’m partial to Komen and Avon, as I’m familiar with their granting mechanisms and I know they stand behind strong science. I know there are plenty of products– good products, things I might even like– that donate a portion of their proceeds to some worthy breast cancer cause.  But really, it’s just a portion, and it’s rarely more than a dollar or two for each item. (That 5 hour energy? Five cents per bottle.) I’ve been trying to come up with an educated position on this issue, I don’t want it to be emotional on any level.  And so I’ve decided.  If I really like that pink ribbon lipstick/blush/yogurt, then I’ll buy it and be happy that they’re giving a small donation to a good cause.  But if I feel like I need to support a good cause and like a different lipstick, then I’ll buy the lipstick I want and send my two dollars to Komen on my own.

Breast Cancer and My Kiddos

kiddos breast cancer

I met a young woman last week who was diagnosed with breast cancer a few months before I was and so we instantly started talking about our shared experiences.  Being moms, chemo, baldness, those wretched tissue expanders…  But as we chatted, she said something that left me speechless.  (And this blog would indicate that I am rarely speechless!) She hadn’t told her kids that she had breast cancer.  They range in age from preschool to upper elementary school.  I couldn’t imagine trying to keep that up– making excuses for missing out on activities because of doctors appointments and fatigue, explaining why people were bringing us dinner, hiding a port, scars, post-surgery pain…  But most of all, it exhausted me to think that she couldn’t let her kids know that she was bald.

That’s not the way we decided to handle it for our family.  Let me make it clear though, the way we handled it was definitely the best way. For OUR family. Not the best way for her family, she needed to make that decision, and there’s no way that I would judge her or try to tell her that she did it wrongly.

But it did get me to thinking.  There are probably women who struggle with how to talk to their children about their cancer diagnosis.  Or whether to talk to their children.  And when we had that conversation with the kiddos a year ago, it was a very raw time for me.  That fell into the category of things that I just couldn’t blog.

We decided to wait until we knew for sure the treatment course, I wanted to be sure that the kids got the full information when we had that conversation.  We wanted them to hear the whole story the first time. So once we knew for sure that I would have chemo and then surgery, we sat down with them.  I thought that it was important that we were honest with them and answered their answered their questions truthfully, but I know that there is such a thing as giving kids too much information.  Answer only what they ask, no more.

So when we sat them down, I reminded them that I’d had a couple of doctor’s appointments that week.  Then I told them that the doctors told me I had breast cancer.  Emma Clare gasped. Turner immediately said, “So you’re going to die, right?” Insert knife into heart. As quickly and as confidently as I could muster, I answered.  No. I explained to them that cancer is when some normal cells go out of control and don’t stop growing when they’re supposed to.  If the cancer cells get to an important part of a person’s body, that can make them die.  But my cancer was in my breast, and while they were important for feeding my babies, I didn’t need them to live. So I was going to have to take some pretty nasty medicine to kill the cancer that might make me sick and would make my hair fall out, and I would have surgery so that they could take out all the cancer in my breast.  But the doctors would do their very best to kill all the cancer and then make sure that I felt and looked as good as new when it was all over.  They didn’t love the idea of me being bald, and they really didn’t like the idea of me having to stay in the hospital overnight when I had my surgery.  But after we talked, I had several weeks before chemo started.  They had time to process, ask questions, and get used to the idea. They talked about it with us, with their teachers, with their friends. I think being able to talk about it made it less scary, little by little. By the time they went with me to have my head shaved, they were excited about it, and months later, they were even ok with the surgery, too.

I won’t say that we handled it perfectly.  I won’t say that it was easy. I cried a little.  I was honest and told them I was scared, too. (Maybe I should have been stronger?) At one point, Clay had to take over because my heart was broken, and so was my voice. But we told them that we had so much confidence in my doctors, and more than that, I was confident that God had a plan for me and for our family, and we would come through it all fine.  Believe me, just this week, I’ve had a couple of doses of reality.  Cancer isn’t pretty and pink, it isn’t easy, it doesn’t always have a happy ending, and my kids might not have the most realistic perspective of how bad it can get.  But you know what? I’m totally ok with that.  They’re just kids. They can grow up later.

In Case You Missed It | Alexandria Stylebook

In case you missed it, I did a guest post last week at Alexandria Stylebook.  I got to play dress up with such nice clothes, lovely jewelry, and fabulous shoes.  After shopping at Zoe Boutique, Kiskadee, and The Shoe Hive, I met with Allison at Bellacara to have my make up done before heading to a studio photo shoot with Sally.

alexandria stylebook run lipstick chemo

I had the opportunity to share my story with a new group of people and talk about why lipstick (and taking time to look my best) was so important to me, and it was such a fun day, too.  Many thanks to the ladies at Alexandria Stylebook!  Head there to read my post.

Happy Cancerversary

August 2012 at Topsail Island. Probably the last picture of me where I was blissfully unaware of the cancer growing in my left breast.

One year ago, on Friday, October 5, I heard the words that would certainly change my life. “Invasive breast cancer… Triple negative…” You hear about mothers who receive inexplicable strength to lift cars off of their children– something takes over and it’s as if they lose the ability to panic. They do what needs to be done, and that’s it. One year ago this weekend, I became that mother. I’m not talking about the physical strength, or even the mom protecting her kiddos, I’m talking about the shutting down of emotion, the getting it done.

I re-read the post where I talked about that call, and honestly teared up when I got to the part where I spoke to my oncologist. She told me it would be a rough year, and then it would be over. I didn’t doubt her, but I don’t know that I totally believed her. I just nodded and made my plans for the next step. Just get it done. And now, this weekend (specifically tomorrow) marks one year since learning I had cancer. Want to know what I’m doing today? Buying a new bra. I’m healthy and out of compression gear. I’m going shopping for the next (much longer) season in my life. I guess my oncologist was right after all. It’s been a year, and now it’s over.


Strong vs. Beautiful

long hair

Have you forgotten what I looked like this time last year?  With long hair?  I nearly have. Crystal took this top image just two days before Dragan shaved my head.  I loved my hair long.  So beautiful.

short hair

This picture is one Sally took last week.  I guess my hair really does look darker, now that I see these two images next to each other.  I was thinking it was closer to the same color as before.  Ah well.  Either way.

Still people ask, will I grow my hair back out?  Still, I answer with uncertainty.  I like it short, and I do get lots of compliments.  But the compliments have changed.  With long hair, those loose waves, usually people told me that I had beautiful hair.  And that’s an awesome compliment.  Who wouldn’t want to be beautiful?  With it short, the compliments are different. “You really rock that short hair.” People tell me that I look fierce, powerful, strong.  And those are great compliments, too.

I think of my family, my husband who fell in love with a girl with a ponytail, my daughter whose long hair is as much a part of her identity as mine used to be, and my sweet boy who is so empathetic that he is attached to my long hair because his sister is.  I imagine they’d love for things to be the way they used to be. And the idea of having that long, flowing hair is certainly attractive to me some days. But I’ve come to realize that even though we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, most of us do. Hearing you’re beautiful? Always good. But today, I like the idea that when someone I don’t know sees me, words like strong, powerful, or fierce come to mind. I may change my mind tomorrow, but today, I’d rather be strong than beautiful.

Photography: Lily B Photography and Sally Brewer Photography Lipstick: MAC Dubonnet and NARS 413BLKR