Bad News Travels fast.....

And now for the bad news....
Yesterday, I celebrated five years of survival. I was diagnosed exactly five years ago with a 49% chance of surviving 5 years. Determined to meet this milestone, I am elated to say that I am still here, thriving and surviving through the good nature of family and friends who have been with me every step of the way.
Unfortunately, celebration is short-lived and it's back to work. Today, I must break the news to all of these hopeful and wonderful people that while we made it five years, my fight is not over.
There is no cure for breast cancer.
This week, my petscan lit up like a christmas tree with multiple lymph nodes positive for hypermetabolic activity that most likely indicates a return of metastatic cancer. It is throughout my chest, lungs and abdomen with positive nodes in my neck and near my aorta. As if that is not enough to scare the heck out of me, my brain MRI shows roughly 5 lesions indicating metastasis to the brain.
I'm a nurse. Brain mets is never good news and treatment options are scary. "So you're going to aim that big gun at my head and zap my brain with radiation?"
Awesome.
Losing breasts was a "no-brainer" (ha ha, see what I did there?). Aiming toxic gamma rays at my brain is another situation altogether. I kinda like the way I think. I've spent a lifetime gathering knowledge, making mistakes, mapping movements and formulating opinions. I like my brain just the way it is, or "was" before my cells mutated and tried to eat it. My rockstar oncologist is doing the Texas 2-step trying to get me every treatment option possible by running more tests, sending my file to the rockstar radiologists (snipers) and rockstar neurologists (brains) and making me the latest and greatest cancer survivor poster child. I just spent five years convincing him that I'm a worthy cause. Now I'm hoping it's enough. Maybe I should have made latkes.
I'm not afraid. I knew going in that there is no cure to the plague of the 20th century. Being a nurse and seeing good people die and lives change prepared me for the inevitable. That's not to say, I didn't try. We switched to everything organic. I reduced my grains intake. I went vegan, temporarily, because let's face it, quality of life is an issue and when you eliminate the good stuff, life ceases to be worth the fight. I tried Paleo. I quit Coffee, sugar and alcohol. Yes, despite all this bad news, I have not had any drunken benders to make this last five years any easier. Okay, I went back to coffee when a study came out saying it's good for me and I needed a vice that was borderline. I don't drink soda. I don't smoke. I exercise a little or a lot depending on what the "experts" say. I don't wear deodorant and I gave up on beauty products altogether. I spent the last five years revisiting my hometown, reaching out to people I haven't seen in years,  and righting all of my wrongs. I have shared and processed feelings, reminded those I've loved that I still love them, and that their love has allowed me a happy, meaningful life of love and happiness with an amazing man I call husband and the gift of two gorgeous daughters, for which I am eternally grateful. I have sought to understand before being understood and tabled harsh feelings. I spent the last five years living as large and as hard as I possibly could realizing my time on this Earth is finite and when my time is done, no stone will be left unturned.
Despite these changes and efforts, cancer returns..... because there is no cure. You don't beat Cancer. You beat it back. You give it no hope for gaining a foothold and you pray.
Currently, we are waiting to see if I qualify for a special procedure that kills the tumors in my head without killing my personality. If I don't qualify, we go to plan B which has a high likelihood of making my hair fall out. Not fair that I happen to like having hair. Meanwhile, my oncologist wants the "neck people" to stick a very large needle in my tonsils and take a chunk of tissue that tells us whether this is a new cancer or the metastasis of breast cancer. And we are back on the rollercoaster folks. "Good news!" "Bad news!"
Meh.
My husband and my kids are taking this as best as anyone can. My close friends are on board and I hear the fear in their voices. I hate to ask this of my friends, my Facebook peeps, soccer families, high school pals, ski racing sisters, and posses from everywhere, but I need you more than ever.
What can you do?
Live. Live large. Live hard. Share pictures of your adventures, and if you see them, hug my kids. And if you can find a 20 year old Swedish Nanny for my husband, I'm cool with that. Meanwhile, I'll be fighting the good fight.... again, and hoping that one of these darn rockstars finds a cure.
Thanks for reading. Updates to come.