Running for Cancer, not From it

my dad & me

On Friday, I participated in the 4th annual Yakavim Winery Race. My dad originally came up with the idea to run in the half marathon himself. I'm definitely not in physical shape to run 21 kilometers right now but I when I heard there was a 5K I started planning.... and the results were better than I ever could have expected!

I decided to sign up and run to raise money for an organization that is very close and dear to my heart, Zichron Menachem. Over the past couple of weeks donations have poured in via links on this blog and checks brought or mailed directly to me. I don't know the final tally however the estimate is in the thousands. On Friday, I received phone calls from Chaim and Miriam, the founders of Zichron Menachem, and was very emotional and happy to hear their kind words and blessings.

We left home at around 6:15 am on Friday morning to drive to Kibbutz Nachshon, the location of the race. It was looking cloudy and overcast and friends were texting me with reports of rain. We arrived at the starting line along with hundreds of other runners from all over Israel. It was especially exciting to see my parents and 3 of my brothers and their wives... all in green Z.M. shirts and hats!!! My dear friend, Gila, arrived to run with me and two of my closest friends, Loren and Elana, came to cheer us on... all wearing their green Z.M. shirts! My dad and close family friend, Michael, ran in the 21kilometer half marathon while my mom and brothers, Eli, Matt, Levi, and I did the 5K. At the last minute, we signed up my eldest daughter, 11 year old, A., for the 3.5K kid run and not only did she complete it, she won a trophy for placing first in her age category!

Dad at the finish line

The night before, I was nervous... worried I wouldn't wake up on time. When the day finally arrived, it was everything I had hoped for and beyond. What a perfect day and setting for a run; cool temperatures on trails through beautiful grape vineyards and pomegranate tree groves. There were approximately 600 runners participating and the atmosphere was friendly and welcoming. It was fun to see so many other runners from my city,  people I know from my community, and a few of my friends' children. Many of the participants came over after recognizing me from the article that Shvoong did about my dad and me and our run for Zichron Menachem. I enjoyed having the opportunity to talk about the organization and also to represent as someone going through chemotherapy and experiencing running as a normal and wonderful part of living through a scary and serious illness and treatment.

My twin brothers, Matt and Levi, and my friend, Gila, paced themselves with me the entire 5K. It felt AMAZING! It's difficult to describe the feelings I experienced. Most of the other runners leapt ahead yet I know what my limitations are and I physically cannot push myself too hard now. I focused on an even steady pace and by the first kilometer we were running a steady 6 minute kilometer. The whole route was off-road through dirt and rocky trails and included one steep decline and what felt like a killer incline right before the finish line. We kept shouting out, "Woo hoo Zamzam!", for Zichron Menachem. By the end of the race, we ran an average of about 7:25 per kilometer which, is slow. I'm not fast but I'm here to last is my new motto! My brothers kept me smiling and laughing the whole time and Gila encouraged me and stuck by my side.

At the finish line, my SILs, Briana and Hadar, and my friends, Elana and Loren, and my husband, David and our five kids applauded and cried out and hugged us. It was such a glorious finish for me - I might have well taken first place in the half marathon. That's how wonderful it felt.

My husband started running recently and quite a few friends are starting to join in or talk about trying it. I'm excited! I'm in planning stages for the next race and it's the Jerusalem Marathon. I'm hoping to be fit enough for the 10K and run alongside as many friends and family as possible! I'll be raising money for an organization called, Tishkofet, aka Life's Door.

my daughter, me, my mom

At the race ceremony, I was called up and acknowledged for raising money for Zichron Menachem. It was an empowering feeling to get up on the platform and receive an honorary trophy... I yelled, "Take that Cancer!" into the crowd and everyone applauded. Just being surrounded by all the pumped up energy, adrenaline, love and support made me feel like a superstar... so many people became aware of Z.M. and donated money and learned about two cancer survivors (my dad and me) who run to live. We're not fast but we're in it to last... as long as you can run, you're alive.  My dad summed it up when he said we're running for cancer, not from it.

Sabbath and Post-Sabbath

It was a hard week. The chemotherapy rollercoaster began on Sunday, when I took my pre-chemo blood test and realized my neutrophil counts weren't high enough. That problem was confirmed on Monday morning when I took another blood test at the hospital. I felt deflated when I heard I wouldn't be able to get my "milestone", halfway, number three chemo.... I was slightly amused at being disappointed about NOT getting chemotherapy but then again this whole process is getting through it, over and done with, not drawing it out for extra weeks! After some deliberation, my oncologist gave the go ahead. I would take my chemotherapy treatment and then get a shot of Neulastim 24 hours after. Neulastim is a miracle drug. It causes the bone marrow to produce new infection-fighters called, neutrophil cells, within a day! It's not without its own unique set of side effects, the common one being bone pain... and the least common one, death by spleen rupture... yes, it says that in the promotion video!

After chemo, on Monday evening, I went over to Zichron Menachem Day Center to see my kids there and talk to the ZM directors about my upcoming run. Going into the ZM Day Center is a wonderful feeling. Over this past week, something that has really brought me joy is thinking about running in the 5 K on Friday, October 26th, wearing my green and pink Zichron Menachem shirt! Over the past week, many people have donated to this wonderful organization that helps children through a cancer crisis and playing a small part in that gives me a lot of happiness.

I spent a lot of time sleeping or lying in bed over the past 5 days, waiting for the effects of the chemo and the Neulastim to ebb away. With the past two chemos, by the end of the Sabbath, I was ready to go out for a run. It's like being reborn... going from barely being able to focus on daily activities to suddenly feeling Human again. It's a wonderful feeling. It helps me look forward to the Sabbath after chemo and enjoy it for all it gives. A day of family. A day of rest. A day of thanks.

I'm just back from my post-Sabbath run and I'm still basking in the endorphins, feeling happy, alive, and sweaty. I pray that no matter what, I will always have my Shabbat and I'll always have my post-Shabbat.

Running for Zichron Menachem

On Friday, October 26, I plan to run in a 5K race near Latrun, at Kibbutz Nachson. I want to run for Zichron Menachem and raise money to support this wonderful non-profit organization that grants immediate, practical and long-term support to young cancer patients from the moment of diagnosis and throughout their battle with illness. ZM offers physical and emotional support to families throughout the long, excruciating ordeal.

Sponsors are welcome! 100% of donations will go directly to Zichron Menachem and are tax deductible in Israel and the US. Please click this link if you wish to donate via the website and you will receive a receipt, in the mail, from Zichron Menachem. Please write my name, Erika Lange, in the dedication line so that they know that the donation is being made in my name.

If you'd like to mail a donation check to my address made out to Zichron Menachem, please contact me and I'll send you my address.

If you'd like to wear a Zichron Menachem shirt and/or bracelet and run with me at the race, please contact me.

Yesterday was an extremely emotional day at chemotherapy. My neutrophil white blood count plummeted, and it looked like I wasn't going to be allowed to receive my treatment. After discussions with the doctors, my oncologist decided to go ahead with the treatment with caution.  24 hours after chemo, I need to get an injection of, Pegfilgrastim, which will cause my bone marrow to immediately produce more white blood cells. This drug is routinely given with other aggressive chemotherapy treatments such as, breast cancer chemo. It's not completely uncommon for survivors receiving chemotherapy.

After nine hours at chemotherapy, I was exhausted. Two of my children were at the Zichron Menachem Day Center which, is down the road from my hospital. My DH and I walked over to visit them. Moments after walking into the Zichron Menachem building, a quiet calm completely came over me as I watched my daughter and son interact with other children and the volunteer counselors; laughing, playing. I sat down with some of the volunteers and we talked and laughed too.

Zichron Menachem is new in our lives. I found them by chance when I walked in to donate hair to be made into wigs for young cancer survivors. I told them my story and the director asked me why I don't send my children to the Day Center. I had no idea that children of cancer patients could do that! Shortly after, my three older children arrived to participate in the activities at "Zamzam". From that day on we became part of a new family.

Hoping for Chemo?

Today is a bit different than my last chemotherapy day. While last time I was weepy and annoyed about getting chemo, today, due to yesterday's low neutrophil count, I might not be allowed to get chemo! Right now I'm sitting on my bed in the oncology ward HOPING and PRAYING that my neutrophil count went up just enough in the last 24 hours to afford me the physical ability to receive my two chemo drugs! Today, when the elbows came out for the race to the number dispenser, I stayed strong. I tried not to get too upset by the reactions of some of the other nervous patients though it does discourage me... Because I figure we ALL have cancer and we are ALL here for the same reason so shouldn't we want to be nice to each other? But I digress... Here's to hoping for chemo.

  

Update: I got my chemo and I'm nearing the end of the second drug "bag" and I'll need a treatment called, "Nulestim" after each chemo to help keep my bone marrow up and working... Making plenty of neutrophils and other white blood cells. All in all, I had a pretty emotional day which was made better by having my new friends, E.S. & her amazing father, Y. May he be blessed with a refuah shleimah (a full recovery). And... Of course my loving and caring husband who puts up with me!!!

Letting Go

"The Maze, She Breathes" by Jaime Zollars

When it comes to letting go... there's letting go because you choose to and there's letting go because you're forced to. Being forced to let go of something precious feels a lot like a loss, a sacrifice, agony. Then there's the other side of letting go, taking charge, and letting go of things in order to set yourself free; letting go of anger, letting go of sadness. Letting go can either be a process of release, relief, and acceptance or it can be an assault on your very being.

Every person has and will either dance this impassioned dance or endure this painful assault. We all experience tests and each of us has a destiny.

These are not mere words.

I don't know why this happened - two nights ago, I had a feeling. I wanted to pull out an old medical file and look at my first ultrasound scan results from my last pregnancy. Would there be anything there to predict the situation I'm in? In 2009, when I was 10 weeks pregnant with my youngest child, I had a routine ultrasound. In the report, it clearly indicates an abnormal growth on my left ovary. For whatever reason it wasn't discussed with me at the time or afterwards, however, it's glowing proof that something could have been done and wasn't. I'm letting go.

I lost my ovaries and my uterus and with it my fertility and likely a year of my life which will be spent on fighting for health, chemotherapy, and other things. THAT was a powerless loss.  Nothing I could do about it. Any power I had to win that battle was never presented to me. It's sad and even infuriating, yes.

I'm letting go. I choose to dance the impassioned dance! This information has given me power! Cancer gave me a new voice and I'm going to use it to empower, inform, and perhaps even save lives.

Slowly but surely, my new path is unwinding before me... it's astonishing, it's madness, and it's breathtaking. Perhaps the lack of sleep is affecting my brain and abilities? I feel like I'm in a labyrinth and each turn is bringing me closer to something larger and monumental. What next?

Pour Some Honey On Me!

I had a nickname when I was a young and new immigrant to Israel and a soldier in the IDF, "Jerrycan". My fellow soldiers in the Givati Marines Brigade lovingly called me, Jerrycan, because no matter what, in the dirt, dust, mud, and "jifa" - I was always smiling.

 I do get worried and upset about important issues. There are even some pretty small things that can make me mad for a few moments and I vent, I express, and then I move on. If there's one thing I'm extremely large and generous with, it's forgiveness. I'm almost incapable of holding a grudge.

You want to know the secret to happiness? I'll tell you. It's about accepting what you have and enjoying every drop you can squeeze out of it and not looking left or right at anything else. Forgiveness is happiness when you forgive yourself and others. LOVE is the ultimate happiness. When you love yourself, your family,  your friends, and genuinely love everything that G-d put on His beautiful earth, I promise you, you will be happy. Love means acceptance of every flaw and imperfection in every single moment and place in my life. With acceptance, forgiveness, and love filling my life to the brim, I just don't have room for all the other noise that is anger, sadness, envy, and regret.

Why am I writing about this now? Just moments ago I had somewhat of an emotional "flip out" over a group status update on Facebook. To sum it up, an Ovarian Cancer Awareness "page" updated their status with something about how ovarian cancer can be treated if it's detected early and went on to send that directive home with, some 22,000+ women will be diagnosed with ovarian cancer in the USA and some 15,000+ women will die of ovarian cancer in the year 2012 so that's why every woman needs to be aware of the following bla bla blah symptoms. This came up in my Facebook newsfeed and I flipped out at the injustice and insensitivity of such blunt rude statistics being thrown in my face by a "page" I "liked" for moral support. I was knocked off guard by the (probably true) statistics because I know I have cancer and yet there's a red line that you just don't need to cross when you talk to cancer survivors even if you are a "cancer awareness group"on Facebook. I know thousands of women die of this disease every year, probably every minute of the day. I know. I just don't need anybody to tell me about it. Why do people think that a person WITH CANCER wants to hear that their so-in-so (insert friend, family member, neighbor, acquaintance or dog) died of the very disease that they have???

Nothing about my diagnosis has made me as mad.... as the absolute insensitivity of a "support group" informing me of my grim mortality. Bug off, I don't allow you into my life. I choose to live. I choose to be a survivor. Don't approach me with the sorry-head-tilt and the death statistics. I will surprise you with my reaction - pfew! Poof. You are so out of here. Gone. Not in my life.

I got mad. I articulated a strong response and the group removed the offending post and sent me a very sorry apology. I accepted the apology. I let off some steam and I'm over it. I'm just about ready to go out with my family to dance and sing at our local music festival. If you see me, I will be smiling and enjoying. I'm not sick and sad. I am HAPPY and I am HEALTHY and I accept CANCER as part of my journey which was given to me along with MANY beautiful blessings.

I accept CANCER as part of my life journey... and I will continue to be happy and smile and laugh every step of the way and now that I'm a SURVIVOR I also realize that I don't have room in my life for anything else besides what gives me strength.

Definition of survivor

noun

• a person who survives, especially a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died: he was the sole survivor of the massacre
• the remainder of a group of people or things: a survivor from last year’s team
• a person who copes well with difficulties in their life: she is a born survivor
   
   
  Sounds good to me.