June 8, 2024
I am not dead.
The realization rolled over me, sandwiched between a LOL and a sob, as I pedaled past mile 10 of my first triathlon since my triple negative breast cancer diagnosis just over one year before.
The swim - a very choppy, salty, MA cape swim - didn’t kill me at the start of the race.
This year - complete with chemo, surgery, more chemo, radiation, and immunotherapy - didn’t kill me.
As I pedaled through the quiet trees, I couldn’t help but reflect on how surreal it all felt. For this whole ‘cancer thing’ to be in the rearview mirror (knock on wood). To be done with my ‘special medicine’ as the kiddos call it. To stop categorizing meetings as ‘fancy hair’ (aka: wig) vs hat vs head meetings. To make plans weeks and months ahead without considering treatment schedules, nausea, or bouts of exhaustion.
As I heard the cheers of my dedicated squad - go Mommy, go! - I couldn’t help but give thanks to all those who made this celebration possible.
To my family and chosen family who stepped in to support all the ways I needed
-- my mom and MiL who spent weeks at a time living with us to let me rest and give the kids a consistent, normal year …
-- those who went with me and called to me while I was receiving infusions …
-- those who remembered the schedule, who kept reaching out and checking in, even after the diagnosis was old news …
-- those who made it possible for me to take medical leave from work, knowing all would continue effectively ahead …
-- those who went on walks, as slow as they might be, threw wig parties, showed up at my door unannounced, and overall kept life vibrant beyond the cancerous reality…
To the experts and expertise at the Dana Farber who cared for me every step of the way
-- the child psychologist who prepared us to talk to the kids, helping us understand what and how they needed to hear about the cancer…
-- each of the nurses who treated me so kindly and with obvious expertise, minimizing pain, pokes, and worries…
-- my oncologists, surgeon, radiation oncologist and each of their teams, walking me through each step, answering all of my questions, letting me do my own research and come back to discuss …
-- the scientists, researchers, doctors continuing to develop newer, better, stronger treatments …
-- all the support staff that made each visit as smooth as possible, from those who screened me for covid and made me laugh, to the parking manager who saved my spot and watched out for me, to those who brought me warm blankets and extra fluids…
It is thanks to each and everyone of these people that today I get to say there is no evidence of cancer in my body. I have now graduated to bi-annual scans, hoping to leave this past years’ experience as a part of my past. An experience that has shaped and formed me, for sure. And an experience I would prefer to not repeat.
For this, I ride. As a thank you to all who have made it possible for me to ride.
I feel incredibly lucky and thankful. And in the same breadth, I am sad. Because not everyone’s story ends as mine.
Too many are still diagnosed without a treatment plan towards a cure. Friends dear to me, mom, sisters, daughters, who don’t get to put cancer in their rearview, but instead are buying time, until they’ve exhausted all options.
For them, I ride. To push the research and discoveries until all cancer diagnoses have a curative treatment plan.
I invite you to join in sponsoring my ride, alongside my team of recovery riders and strengthening us on our journey. The Pan Mass Challenge is leading the charge to beat cancer. In fact, each year 100% of rider-raised revenue goes directly to support the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute's tireless commitment to finding a cure. Over half of the treatments for cancer we now use have been developed with the help of the researchers and physicians at Dana Faber. Your donation will help find cures for cancer that will impact many others, all deserving a positive outcome.
June 8, 2024
I am not dead.
The realization rolled over me, sandwiched between a LOL and a sob, as I pedaled past mile 10 of my first triathlon since my triple negative breast cancer diagnosis just over one year before.
The swim - a very choppy, salty, MA cape swim - didn’t kill me at the start of the race.
This year - complete with chemo, surgery, more chemo, radiation, and immunotherapy - didn’t kill me.
As I pedaled through the quiet trees, I couldn’t help but reflect on how surreal it all felt. For this whole ‘cancer thing’ to be in the rearview mirror (knock on wood). To be done with my ‘special medicine’ as the kiddos call it. To stop categorizing meetings as ‘fancy hair’ (aka: wig) vs hat vs head meetings. To make plans weeks and months ahead without considering treatment schedules, nausea, or bouts of exhaustion.
As I heard the cheers of my dedicated squad - go Mommy, go! - I couldn’t help but give thanks to all those who made this celebration possible.
To my family and chosen family who stepped in to support all the ways I needed
-- my mom and MiL who spent weeks at a time living with us to let me rest and give the kids a consistent, normal year …
-- those who went with me and called to me while I was receiving infusions …
-- those who remembered the schedule, who kept reaching out and checking in, even after the diagnosis was old news …
-- those who made it possible for me to take medical leave from work, knowing all would continue effectively ahead …
-- those who went on walks, as slow as they might be, threw wig parties, showed up at my door unannounced, and overall kept life vibrant beyond the cancerous reality…
To the experts and expertise at the Dana Farber who cared for me every step of the way
-- the child psychologist who prepared us to talk to the kids, helping us understand what and how they needed to hear about the cancer…
-- each of the nurses who treated me so kindly and with obvious expertise, minimizing pain, pokes, and worries…
-- my oncologists, surgeon, radiation oncologist and each of their teams, walking me through each step, answering all of my questions, letting me do my own research and come back to discuss …
-- the scientists, researchers, doctors continuing to develop newer, better, stronger treatments …
-- all the support staff that made each visit as smooth as possible, from those who screened me for covid and made me laugh, to the parking manager who saved my spot and watched out for me, to those who brought me warm blankets and extra fluids…
It is thanks to each and everyone of these people that today I get to say there is no evidence of cancer in my body. I have now graduated to bi-annual scans, hoping to leave this past years’ experience as a part of my past. An experience that has shaped and formed me, for sure. And an experience I would prefer to not repeat.
For this, I ride. As a thank you to all who have made it possible for me to ride.
I feel incredibly lucky and thankful. And in the same breadth, I am sad. Because not everyone’s story ends as mine.
Too many are still diagnosed without a treatment plan towards a cure. Friends dear to me, mom, sisters, daughters, who don’t get to put cancer in their rearview, but instead are buying time, until they’ve exhausted all options.
For them, I ride. To push the research and discoveries until all cancer diagnoses have a curative treatment plan.
I invite you to join in sponsoring my ride, alongside my team of recovery riders and strengthening us on our journey. The Pan Mass Challenge is leading the charge to beat cancer. In fact, each year 100% of rider-raised revenue goes directly to support the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute's tireless commitment to finding a cure. Over half of the treatments for cancer we now use have been developed with the help of the researchers and physicians at Dana Faber. Your donation will help find cures for cancer that will impact many others, all deserving a positive outcome.
| 2025 | $0.00 | Wellesley to Wellesley (50 mile Sunday) |
| 2024 | $6,760.99 | Sturbridge to Bourne (1-Day, Sat) |
