Paying it Forward.

Cancer isn't free. One year of treatment, at the young age of 23,  put me thousands of dollars into debt. I finished treatment on August 31st, 2007- but I was nowhere being done with my cancer experience. The financial aspect haunts me to this day- which is exactly 6 years, 3 months, and 11 days since my last treatment.

The reason for this post is because I joined The SAMFund Alumni Team for our Holiday Campaign to help raise money. The team I am on consists of all past grant recipients- people that I have so much in common with. We want to pay it forward.

I know you have all read my past blog posts about how expensive cancer is. Well- The SAMfund just released their new  brochure, with the statement: "Cancer isn't Free". They really hit it on the head. Cancer is not free- in fact, it's the most expensive thing I've ever had to deal with. I've bought a car, had a wedding, put myself through college (via loans that I am paying now!), saving for a house, etc. None of those compare to the cost of my cancer treatment- and the cancer treatment continues for most after cancer. I still go in for blood work and scans, and those still come with a hefty price tag, despite having insurance, and being perfectly healthy today.

So, to keep it simple- what I am asking is that during the holidays, this time of giving, that you consider making a donation the my team's campaign. I am living proof of the affect that a SAMFund grant has on a recipient. My grant was life-changing. My grant gave me breathing room- by paying down my residual medical bills, it allowed me to continue to receive my scans and blood-work. My grant did so much more for me- so help me make a difference in a young adult survivor's life.

Lastly, I will end by sharing a quote from a past grant recipient: "My experiences with cancer have caused financial hardship through my young adult life. My second cancer recurrence occurred when I was 25 years old. Even though I spend very responsibly, cancer has challenged my ability to build my financial strength. Although it is a hardship for me to pay my high insurance premium, I am not willing to sacrifice the quality of care that I receive because of my financial situation. A grant from The SAMFund would help prevent financial disaster."

To make a donation, please visit my page here.

xo
k

Rest in Peace Ryan.

Bittersweet is the only word to describe today. I was so excited to write a blog post about my trip to Boston with The SAMFund. I found out the best news and the worst news upon arrival though, and it’s been quite hard to sort my thoughts.

 One of my best friends is going to have her baby today.

This morning I received news that an old colleague of mine passed away from a leukemia diagnosis. 

I don’t know how I am supposed to feel today- happy or sad. I really don’t feel anything. I just got back from a weekend spent with amazing young-adult survivors, and I come back to the news of a fellow amazing young-adult not making it. I can’t stop questioning everything. I am so naïve. Why do things like this happen? I am overcome with survivor's guilt. I said to my husband this morning that it’s weird how things happen- a baby is being born at the same time someone is leaving the world. I don’t understand, and probably never will. All I know is that we all have so much to be thankful for, and I know that I am guilty of taking my days for granted. It’s sad that it often takes something like this to put it all into perspective, but I guess we’re all learning from each experience.

Ryan- I know you’re gone, and it’s hard to believe, but you fought the most courageous battle of all. I looked through our past emails and found this message that you had sent me:

“Sorry it took me so long to respond... Lets just say I have found it a bit of a challenge. I might not have shown much in the past, but I always saw what you have done a pure inspiration. I always said, "I only wish I had the same courage." and now oddly enough, I'm here. I like to thank you for reaching out to me, it means a lot to have people that can relate. I'lll make sure to keep in touch, as I can only guess I'll have a million questions soon enough. Thanks Kate, it means a lot.”

You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only option you have. You fought the hardest battle, and you will never be forgotten. You had more courage then anyone I know, and I know you are looking down over everyone and watching over us all. Rest in peace Ryan Heitke.

Thank you.

There are not really words that can express how thankful I am for the donations made to my fundraising campaign. I had planned on raising 1K in 31 days, and have already nearly raised 3K in just a few days with your generous donations. I will keep this post short, but I wanted to quickly share a letter that I received from a 2011 grant recipient. She wrote me this thank you letter because of another online fundraising campaign that I did in the past. When I opened this letter it reminded me of the thank you letter that I wrote to Sam & Michelle when I received my grant. It's hard to put in words the gratitude you feel, but I think that this letter beautifully displays it.

Dear Kate,

My name is (I will leave this anonymous), and I was a 2011 SAMFund grant recipient. The grant I received paid my health insurance premiums for five months. I really want to thank you for all of the work you did raising funds for The Grand Plan, because your efforts directly helped me in such a meaningful way- because of The SAMFund grant I received, I was able to essentially buy myself time to qualify soon for better insurance coverage. SAMFund was essential in helping me bridge this gap, and, true to its mission statement, in helping me move forward. I am so grateful to The SAMFund and to you individually for being there and being an invaluable resource for young adults, like me, dealing with the long-term financial toll of cancer.

Again, thank you, so much. 

All the best.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

Today is the last to to donate. Thank you all again for being so supportive of something that means so much to me. If you wish to make a donation or see my campaign page, you can view that here.

Have a safe and wonderful New Year.

Love,
Kate

Some bittersweet results...

My mom saved 3 binders worth of bills, results, insurance claims, temperature readings, notes, blood counts, medication, etc, while I was sick. Most of it I have to say though was bills. They are somewhere hidden in the attic at my parent's home, and I will look at them someday. They were packed away with everything else that I didn't want to remember. Funny enough, I think about it everyday.

I spoke with a client at work the other day who was having trouble keeping up with his auto policies. He confided in me that he was stressed because they found lesions on his liver, and that he had already gone through cancer treatment in the past. I felt an instant connection. You get that with other survivors, I can't explain it. Anyway, my heart sank as he was sharing his story with me. I wanted so badly to say, "I sort of know how you're feeling". I cried for my entire drive home from work that day. I haven't stopped thinking about him. Has it really come down to car insurance or CT scans? He literally had to make that choice. Is it radiation or rent? Chemo or the phone bill? Sadly, for many people, cancer makes those decisions really easy. You can't say "no, I'll skip chemo this week because At&T really needs a payment." It's not that easy. Cancer doesn't care, and as much as I love my oncologist and the nursing staff, they can't give out free treatment. Worst of all, your insurance company really doesn't care either. "Oh ma'am, that's not covered. Sorry, those shots really are 7K a piece". How can it be that hard? A cancer diagnosis is hard enough itself. What most people probably don't realize is that cancer patients and survivors are also battling it out financially. Back when I was going through treatment, I'd arrive for chemo, and they tell my mom that if we don't pay 2K today, I can't receive my treatment. It happened almost every time. It's nearly impossible to keep up with finances that come along with cancer as well as your everyday finances. To this day, I struggle with my health care finances, and I'm perfectly healthy. 

I was beyond stressed today. You know, the usual: crying at work, shaking on my ride to work, losing all color in my face, pulse racing all day, sick to my stomach. I had to go for blood work today. It's just not getting any easier for me. It's just as scary as it was the first time. I don't know if it will ever get easy. I can barely type right now as I'm trying not to tear up. Besides my anxiety about my results, I also have anxiety about my 2K balance at my oncology center. "Katherine, we really need you to start paying $700/month so you can continue to come here." "Um, don't you know I'm paying off my student loans? I have rent due... phone also... and oh yeah, groceries, gas, insurance and utilities! Can't you just let me defer it?" "No, that's not how it works, sorry." Every time I open my mailbox my heart drops because I am scared of getting more bills. I get bills from radiology centers, from the company who bought out my chemo center, from my chemo center, and for my doctors! I'm not even sick. I don't have an extra 2K lying around, and really, who does in this economy? Not a day goes by that I am not reminded how lucky i am. I am so grateful to be healthy and happy. I am also beyond grateful that I was awarded a grant in 2008 from The SAMFund. That grant really changed my life. That grant helped pay down my residual medical bills so that I could continue my post-treatment scans. That grant bought me this laptop that I am typing on right now so that I could graduate on time and have access to the programs I needed for my design degree. That grant gave me a gym membership so that I could strengthen myself after treatment. That grant did so much more than you could ever imagine. That grant gives you hope. I know you all know how involved I am with The SAMFund, but I really felt that by me sharing these intimate details about my financial worries and stress, that it might help you even better understand how important it The SAMFund is. Not only for me, but for every young adult survivor out there. I know during these holidays that it is a time for giving. I know we are all out shopping for the perfect gift. I ask that you consider making a donation to our online campaign and help me reach my goal. I am living proof of the impact that that money has on people. That money that you donate changes lives- it helps survivors pay their co-pays, their rent, their utilities, it helps with family planning options, insurance, among many other things. Survivors have gone through such a traumatic experience, let's help raise money that will in turn reduce their stress and help them move forward and take their lives back, back from cancer.

This is my campaign page. My goal is to raise 1K by New Year's Eve. Every penny counts. Please help me reach that goal.

Thank you everyone, I appreciate your support that you have always given me.

xo
k

Life is Good.

I'm getting that feeling again. It's that feeling I get after a fundraiser for The SAMFund. It's excitement that I cannot contain. You probably saw my insane amount of posts for The SAMFund today for our Giving Common Challenge, and I am so thankful to absolutely everyone that donated. As you all know, I am so passionate about The SAMFund, ya know, they did change my life....  

So anyways, I stopped in to Starbucks tonight to do some work, but instead I find myself glued to writing this blog right now. I got a special email this morning from someone very close to The SAMFund- Sam's dad, Glenn. I saw it and immediately got a little emotional. He said that he was very touched by my story, which was just so nice to hear. I know some survivors may be shy about their story- and that's ok. But I know that I am here to share mine with others in hopes to inspire someone out there. But, back to Glenn... he was saying how he was so touched by my story.. and I'm thinking about how touched I am that he reached out to me. You know, he only raised and brought into this world my biggest mentor, Sam. It was just a really nice email. It made me so happy. You can obviously see where Sam got her kindness from :) I would like to quote part of the email, "Kate. Young people like you remind me daily why it is so important to help others when you can. Thank you. GLENN."

For me, it ties everything into what we've been working on for The SAMFund these past 36 hours. After getting my grant from The SAMFund, I was reminded why it is so important to give back. I don't do it because it makes me feel good inside, I do it because I know the difference it can make in someone's life. I know that because of the difference it made in my life. Am I getting a bit redundant here? Cheesy, yes? Well, I can't help it. For the past few years of my adult-hood, or I guess, those couple years I had before cancer, I always wondered what I would do with my life. I changed my mind on a weekly basis. I never knew for certain. Now, I can say that this is what I want to do. This is so fulfilling, and emails like the one I received today from Glen reassure me that I am inspiring somebody out there in this universe. To inspire somebody is such a great thing, and if I can take anything positive away from my experience with cancer, it would be that I get to help inspire others with my own story.

Glenn, your email was so kind, and made my day- actually, no, it made my week. Thank you for your kind words, and, to quote a portion of the email that I wrote: " if it wasn't for your amazing daughter, I might never have had such a life-changing experience :) ."

-k

Results are in....

.............scans and blood work are clear!! Music to my ears. I had my scans back in mid-August, and it was really scary. I had to drink the dreaded barium, which was really hard. I did blood work, and vitals, and this and that. I was looking for Jamie over at my oncology center. Jamie was my chemo nurse, and she meant the world to me, but I couldn't find her.... Anyway... the day I had my scans was the day I left for Michigan, and it was perfect, Michigan, that is. I'll write a blog for Michigan seperate from this, ya know, to avoid a novel. So, I get back and go back in for my results last Wednesday. I get to JOHA, nervous, shaking, heart beating out of my chest... the usual. Dr. Siv's medical assistant comes to get me, and says "it's gonna be alright". She knows how I freak out... she takes my pulse and like always, it was beating like crazy. She always reassures me that it will be ok. She then leads me into the same room I've been going to for that past 6 years, and I hop on that same bed, and dangle my feet. Dr. Siv finally walks in and shakes my hand.. and the words "Katherine, you are ok, everything looks perfects", and I feel at ease. Best ever. He then went on to tell me something a little "freaky". I asked him when I would come in next, because I was under the impression that I would be coming in now once a year, instead of twice. This is when he told me no, you'll be coming in 2-3 times a year now for the next 3 years.... Um, excuse me? I'm almost at 5 years and now I have to come in more often? Well, as it turns out, apparently there was some question as to the staging of my cancer. I was originally diagnosed with stage 2- multiple tumors in multiple spots, above the abdomen. He said that throughout everything, he always had an inkling of a thought that it could be stage 4. Now I was freaked out.... this is big news, never knew this before. Apparently, when I broke my back... it might have broken from the accident, or it might have broken because I had cancer in my bones.... my heart dropped. When I had my initial scans back in 2006, Dr. Siv saw signs of cancer that were in my spine.... during my back surgery, they took a bone marrow biopsy to verify, but it came back negative. They then proceeded to do a bone marrow biopsy from my hip, negative again. Exact wording "If you want to play devil's advocate, you can saw the marrow here is clean and ok, but 2 cm away could possibly be infected"... well I didn't know that... Ok, so there was NO proof, only that little light on my PT scans showing something hanging out there....regardless, it's gone now... all the cancer, and I'm fine. And apparently if it was stage 4, they do the same exact ABDV chemo treatment for the stages, which I guess is why I'm ok? The reason he told all of that though is because now I have to seem him more regularly. Stage 4 lymphoma has a higher recurrence rate than stage 2... and he wants to monitor it more closely. Oddly enough though, after the initial freak-out in the office, I was ok. It's part of my new outlook. I'm fine now, and am looking ahead. If anything, I beat cancer even more then I thought, which makes me even more awesome, right?

 As I get ready to celebrate my 5 year official cancerversary, I'm getting really antsy. I just want it to be here. I just want to start to move on, and 5 years really makes me feel like I've accomplished a lot. At both appointments though, I didn't see Jamie. I kept asking around, and someone finally told me that she left to work at a different hospital. I was really sad- she is someone that I will NEVER forget. I was grocery shopping last night, and guess who I ran into? Jamie. She immediately recognized me (it has been almost 5 years!!!)... and ran up and gave me a hug. I was nearly in tears seeing her again. We caught up, she remembered so much about me, and it was great to see her. I felt like it was a little gift from the universe, a gift for my 5 year mark. As Jamie walked away, I said to Chris "Do you think she really knows the impact that she has had on my life?". Chris said "Yes, I know she knows that." I was nearly crying in the cleaning section of the grocery store because seeing her reminded me of how real everything was, but it also made me so much more thankful to have had a nurse who not only took care of me, but who really cared for me.

k

5 years... and counting.

As I begin to approach my 5 year cancerversary, I, as usual, am starting to freak out a bit. This September will be HUGE for me. September 1st will mark the 5th consecutive year that I have been cancer-free. I know all survivors count from different dates- but I count from the first day I finished treatment. Back in 2006/2007, I went through almost 9 months of chemo, + one month of radiation... or tomotherapy if you want to get fancy :) My radiation was like the home-stretch. I heard it wasn't as bad as chemo- and it wasn't. It wasn't easy either, but I counted down each day. September 1st was the first day I didn't have any more treatment ahead of me. It was the most amazing day that I had experienced at that point in my life. It's kind of bittersweet though waiting for September's arrival. I keep thinking about everything, and I've been thinking too much lately. I still have a bit of survivor's guilt- sounds crazy, but I don't get why I was ok and other people were not. I still feel like it was yesterday when I was told I had lymphoma and I can't believe all this time has flown by. Have I accomplished enough since then? Have I overworked myself? Have I not taken good enough care of myself? Those thoughts are flooding my mind all the time. As you all know, I dread my check-ups. I always assume the worst. I'm not a pessimist, by nature, only by cancer? I always think "I was a perfectly healthy 22 year old and BAM, they found it." Why couldn't I be a perfectly happy 28 year old, and BAM, it's back? I struggle everyday not to think those things, but I do it to prepare myself. Nobody understands it quite like another survivor. It's always looming. It's dark and scary and I have to keep it under control. Perhaps Chris deals with the worst of it, but I wouldn' t be able to get through it without him. But, most people don't understand.

This time though, I'm taking a new approach to this upcoming date. I always say that I'm going to do something really special to celebrate, and this year I really am. I may throw myself a party or take a last minute vacation- not sure yet. I am scheduled for my tests on August 10th- in a couple weeks. I usually get the PT Scan + blood work, but doc decided to change it up on me this time..... So I'm getting a CT Scan. I know there are big differences between the two- but in my mind- the difference is what you drink. Yeh, the cocktail. PT Scan's give me this delightful metallic lemonade. CT Scans give me this delightful berry-flavored chalk-goo that is the consistency of Elmer's glue. I obviously prefer the lemonade. Whatever. I just took the day off for that appointment. I mean, would you want to be sitting at your desk pretending not to be afraid your life is going to end while sipping on Elmer's glue??? Nahh. I took off that Friday, and we're leaving for our annual Wimbiscus Michigan trip that night.... Which is perfect timing. I see my doc for results when I get back from the trip. I made sure that that yucky in-between time where I'm freaking out, breaking out in hives, not sleeping, not eating, crying, worrying, will be spent on a gorgeous beach with my family. That way, I'm forced to have a good time. I look at it like "if the universe decided my cancer is coming back, at least I get this great vacation before the news, and I WILL enjoy it. If it does come back and I have to do treatment, I will treat myself to an even better vacation afterwards". That is just how it will be.

I don't think it will ever get easier- and believe me, I ask every survivor I meet. I've talked to people younger then me to people in their 80's. Every single survivor said that the fear never goes away, but it does get easier.

What have you done to celebrate your cancerversaries? I may need some amazing suggestions...

xo
k