Peel the layers

Let's get serious. I promise it won't last long. :-)

I've been so blessed the last couple years to have so many people cheering for me, praying for me, sending me good thoughts and all around positivity. Please don't stop. You know who you are and you probably don't have any idea how much courage I get from you.

Some of you have accused me of being an inspiration, courageous, super woman, etc. I receive these compliments whole heartedly and put them into my toolbox to fight cancer, but I have to be honest with you. Super woman I am not.

I do believe that this cancer trip happened to me not only for a reason, but many reasons. If I can encourage anyone to keep their chin up or laugh at adversity than I definitely think it pushes me forward in the fight. I get my strength from you.

This transition from MD Anderson to Moffitt has not been an easy one. MD Anderson saved my life. Simple as that. They saved me from an unnecessary mastectomy and a waiting period that would have delayed chemo and then where would I have been? Not here, I assure you.

The staff, nurses and doctors at MDA have always treated me like I'm a person and gone out of their way to take care of me. It hasn't been perfect, but when it's not, there is always someone trying to make it better.

The last month of waiting to see if Moffitt even wanted me or if I would be accepted into the clinical trial has been one of the most frightening since this all began. It brought a rush of fear back reminiscent of the first days of diagnosis. These are feelings that no one should have to experience ever, and definitely not multiple times.

When you are categorized at Stage 4, most everything you do is about time. How much time do I have left? How long before the side effects kick in? How much longer can I take this medicine before I have to switch again? Thoughts go to when we were growing up... anyone that was Stage 4 was a goner. I admit to you, dear friends of cancercopia, that at times it has been hard to embrace the idea that I am not a goner.

The facility of MD Anderson helped me see that I am far from that. There is hope and lots of it. Look at all of the miracles I have already experienced. The cancer has gone down in ways they couldn't have imagined in the beginning. I am still here and there are lots of choices of medicines and treatments to try along the way. And for that, I would like to say thank you to everyone associated with MDA. Thank you for saving my life. Multiple times. From the chemo to the brain radiation to the energy medicine to the pharmacy, every one of you is responsible for my still being here.

So, you see, it is just a bit challenging to transfer the trust of my care, and ultimately, my life to the Moffitt Cancer Center. But as we conclude our first week together, the fear is subsiding. The waiting is over and now there is action. The nurses have made it more than obvious that they care about who I am, my family, my future. I can feel the air entering my lungs again. I will release each white knuckle holding desperately to the MDA baton and let the blood flow back into the flesh. I'm reaching over to Moffitt slowly and holding on for dear life. My new Moffitt friends, we had a bumpy start but I'm learning how to trust your wonderful caregivers.

Thank you nurses and doctors for grabbing the baton of saving my life.

Thank you supporters for coming with me on this trip. Most of the time, I'm in fight mode, and I know that we will win. That God is good and wants good for me. Thank you for letting me be scared and crazy and silly along the way. Thank you all for letting me be myself.