Cancer Survivors « Little Red Riding Hood

Cancer Survivors

Breast Cancer Survivors & Friends

March 2010. In response to our request for personal stories of how you’ve been impacted by cancer we received the following – our invitation to share your story is still open. Please send anything you would like to share to Penny at penperk@xmission.com

I’ve attached a story about my daughter-in-law, Megan Lloyd. It’s been over 4 years and she is still fighting a good fight and surviving against breast cancer.
Carolyn

Megan Lloyd
Valentine’s day has taken on new meaning for Megan Lloyd. At age 29, a mother of a 6 month old baby girl and a 3 year old son, and married–was diagnosed with breast cancer on Valentine’s day in 2006. As friends and family came and shed tears with her, she hugged them and told them not to cry—she would be “OK.”

Over the course of a year and a half Megan bravely made it through weekly chemotherapy, and multiple surgeries including a double mastectomy. Keeping fit was important to Megan—even if it meant being able to ride her stationary bike only 10 minutes—she did it! She worked in the yard and turned the weed patches of their new home into beautiful flower gardens. She patched and painted walls. She continued to keep her upbeat, happy outlook on life and she won the first round battle as the cancer went into remission.

However, after only six months, the cancer came back again—this time in her lungs, liver and spine. She went back into the weekly chemo regimen. While still on chemo Megan decided she would ride the 2008 Little Red Riding Hood 62 mile bike ride—and she did! She borrowed her friend’s bike, rode a total of 150 miles in training—yes 150–and finished the 62 miles without any problem. She won her second round with cancer and put it into remission. Pink had taken on new meaning for Megan. In 2009 her husband, Scott, surprised her with a Specialized pink and white bike of her own and in 2009 she rode the 62 mile “Little Red” again.

Megan began her third round when the cancer again returned last October. In addition to her liver, lungs, and spine, it had spread to her brain. Radiation was required, which took her out of bicycling for the winter. After radiation and into chemo, she started exercising. While barely able to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen, tired and ill from her treatment, she set her physical goals for this spring—ride the 26 mile Salt Marathon bike ride in April (which she did); do the Woman of Steel Triathlon in May (which she did) and the 62 mile Little Red Riding Hood ride in June. At the Woman of Steel Triathalon Megan was awarded the “Woman of Steel” award for her endurance through many difficulties. There was never a question in her mind that she could and would do those rides. She was determined that she would be well enough to finish each race! Still undergoing chemotherapy, she will ride the “Little Red” 62 mile ride this year for the third time.

Life is not easy for Scott and Megan. But they both refuse to mentally or emotionally give in to cancer! They refuse to stop having fun in life—and anybody that knows Megan agrees she does have fun in life! She refuses to pass off her family responsibilities—because to her that would mean she was giving in to cancer! She does not complain! She gardens, she plays with her kids, has family outings on the four-wheeler and cheers others.

Megan is an inspiration to her family and friends. She has handled so much adversity – always with a strong dose of humor and determination to live. She is a wonderful wife, mother, and human being - and truly is a “woman of steel.”
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I was approaching my 30th birthday with a positive attitude. A dear friend once told me, “We’ve been aging since the day we were born- What’s the big deal?” I agreed and wanted to throw a big bash for my birthday, instead I began a year’s’ worth of cancer treatment. I had been diagnosed with stage III Melanoma. Each birthday is a celebration for me and a declaration of gratitude. Life is good and I am trying to take better care of my body. In August it will be nine years since I experienced cancer. Forty is around the corner and all I can say is – bring it on!!

Dana

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Cancer blessed my life!

This is the short version!

Cancer was a blessing to me, and I know it saved my life! What a crazy thing to think or say I know, but I can’t think of any other way to say it. For 6 months we were trying to get pregnant with no success. I was sick/ill with out explanation. I went to the doctor’s office to try to find out why I felt so sick and tired all the time. He could not offer me any explanation. Finally after 6 months of monthly and towards the end, weekly visits, I refused to leave his office until he knew what was wrong with me. Finally 52 days later, I was being treated with chemo for cancer. Hodgkins lymphoma. I was 28! People don’t get cancer that young! And what the heck kind of cancer did I have? Did they make it up? The only kind of cancer I knew was breast, lung and brain. I didn’t know about any other kind out there! Loosing my LONG hair was very traumatic for me. Not being able to eat food I wanted, my skin turned to what felt like old leather, my toe nails bruised and fell off! I played a joke on my nurse with my hair though. I cut about 12 inches off when I started loosing it and then tied my hair back with a scrunchi. When I went in for my next treatment, she asked if I started loosing my hair. I told her YES! and to watch how much I could pull out. When I pulled out the hair that I had already cut off I stared waving it around and pretended to be shocked and screamed! LOL!! If I couldn’t keep my hair, I wanted to at least have some fun with it! I had fun and wore a special hat every treatment that friends gave me, as they wore the same hat on treatment days to show support. I wanted to show everybody that cancer wasn’t going to get the better of me. I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me. I sure didn’t! It opened my eyes as to how I wanted to live my life. Not just exist, but live. It wasn’t until 1 year after I was done with treatment that I took a second look at how I was living. I decided to cleanse my body. I read a book that told me I needed to stop eating pork and red meat. The red meat wasn’t a big deal, but pork! UGGGG! My mother in law makes the BEST pork chops! I decided to do it. Longer story short, I have totally changed the way I eat. Wheat flour instead of white, Whole grain rice, fresh produce, very little processed. I grow my own garden and eat as much organic chicken and fish I can get. I have 3 beautiful children and an exceptional husband who, without him I would be incomplete. I love how cancer blessed my life! I wouldn’t change a thing. I still get scared every time I get a lump on my neck, or I get sick, wondering if it will come back. That is something that will always haunt me. However, cancer is just one more thing to say I have conquered. May 5th will be 11 years cancer free. And I am looking forward to the next 50 cancer free years.

Thank you for listening!

Heather

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Sherry”s Story

My world shattered and my faith was tested the day I heard the news that my Mom had cancer. My Mother found a lump on her breast two years ago on Easter. She has lived in fear of cancer her entire life. My Grandmother passed away from the disease when my mom was only 15. Her sister recently passed away in August 2002 from ovarian cancer. My mom had always been on the other side of this disease and now it was also her reality. Now my mom had to face what she feared all of these years. The Doctors visits were exhausting and misleading at best. She had an exam and the nurse called 7 days later to tell my Mom that it was only a cyst. My mom had a sense of relief, but also felt the darkness lurking around the corner. Then there was the phone call. “We will need to have you come in immediately for more testing there may have been an oversight with your results.”

With the history of cancer in the immediate family, she was tested for the BRCA1 gene. Her results were positive for the gene mutation. A woman’s risk of developing breast and/or ovarian cancer is greatly increased if she inherits a harmful BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutation. BRCA1 and BRCA2 are human genes that belong to a class of genes known as tumor suppressors. The likelihood that a breast and/or ovarian cancer associated with a harmful mutation in BRCA1 or BRCA2 is highest in families with a history of multiple cases of breast cancer and cases of both breast and ovarian cancer. My sister and I were tested and both tested negative for BRCA1.

In the discovery of the gene mutation, further action was required to take place immediately. Her ovaries were to be removed as well as her breasts. She was very brave as the beautiful parts of her femininity were being taken from her due to this horrific disease. Watching her go through Chemo, baldness and all of her surgeries was the weakest and scariest time of my life. It feels as though everything in my life stopped once I heard that my MOM had cancer.

Unfortunately, as her daughter there was nothing I could do to help her or to absorb any of her pain. She just had to go through it, and by that I mean walk through the storm with your eyes wide open. She has seen what Cancer can do to people and it has never ended happily for her.

After her surgeries and chemo treatments her hair eventually started to grow back and her strength was also coming back. The clouds and darkness lurking around the corner became more and more faint as the sun began to rise. My desperate prayers were answered and my mom was HEALED. Free from cancer, free from the fear and free to be my Mom again.

Ironically, we had signed up to join the LRRH bike ride before her diagnosis. She was obviously unable to attend that June, but signed up again for the next year! She wanted to start doing as many things as she could to help breast cancer awareness and to support fund raisers (Raft for the Cure, Race for the Cure, Walk for the Cure, etc). I am blessed and happy to report that my Mom, my sister and I were able to attend the cycling event last June. We are signed up for this year as well and promise to attend every year. My mom is feeling better every day and she is upping the ante this year on our mileage to be achieved.

In conclusion, I need to THANK HER every day for going through that storm. She is the only one that had to go through it, but she braved it and came out a different woman. She may not believe it, but she is stronger than she was, more beautiful than before and more precious to me than I ever realized. I love you Mom and I am so proud of you. I look forward to many bike rides with you in our future!!!!

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I have always been very active. I enjoy exercise, spinning, and running. I love being outside. Although I have never been as thin as I have wanted I work hard to stay in shape. I have never had a serious illness and I can say that the last time I had an antibiotic in my system was 10 years previous.

I take a spinning class three days a week and I started feeling a little bit of pressure in my pelvic area. Thinking water weight or gas I paid no attention. The feeling increased and whenever I drew my leg up on the bike I felt like I had an inner tube around my mid section. Pretty soon whenever I bent over to tie a shoe I felt the pressure. Not long after this I started feeling pressure on my bladder and going to the bathroom became “weird”.

Since I have not actually had a baby due to infertility all of my life, I did not see a doctor on a regular basis-once every two years was the recommendation for someone like me. I made an appointment on my lunch hour one day and four hours later I still was sitting in a room waiting for a radiologist to read an ultrasound.

I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and surgery was scheduled within the next two weeks. Along with several body parts, a tumor was removed the size of a very large grapefruit. I had a second surgery one month later to remove the majority of lymph nodes located from my diaphragm down.

I have been told over and over that I was the lucky one and so many ask how I was able to find it. The most important lesson I learned was to listen to my body be very familiar and very aware of changes. I am now five years past the original diagnosis and I am officially in remission. I must see a doctor every 6 months for a CA-125 blood test and have a cat scan and pap smear once a year probably for the rest of my life-although cancer is very frightening and it was a horrible experience and of course I will have health conditions and follow ups for the rest of my life, I am thankful to be one of the lucky ones.

While this story is not earth shattering it has been a journey where lot’s of lessons were learned.

Cristi

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I am riding for my sister-in-law, Julia. Here’s her story.

Winona

Julia M., cancer survivor:

In May of 2004 I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I was a 19 year old college student. Old people are supposed to get cancer, not young and healthy people like me. Or so I thought. I took a break from school and moved home to Boston at the first word of Cancer. I underwent 6 months of chemotherapy and remain cancer free to this day. People have referred to me as a hero. I am no hero. I was doing what any person would do, fight for their life. I am luckier than most. And I count my blessings every day. Especially when I look at my 3 month old son. There were a few scary days when I thought I wouldn’t be able to have children. He is a miracle to me in so many ways. I am blown away by the number of family and friends that have been confronted with “The Big C”. I became a part of the /C Club/. What’s unfortunate is that there is a /C Club/. One day we will find better treatments, cures, and hopefully be able to beat this epidemic disease.

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A little girls story

Little Alice was no longer a little girl. She had three girls of her own and raised them as a single Mom with no support from the birth father. Finally she settled at a job she enjoyed with a law firm, and spent time with her girls and grandchildren who put a smile on her face.

Alice’s sister Debbie arrived to take care of her so her daughter could have a short visit to California. Alice was just 51. It was now July 2009, nine months after having been diagnosed with small cell cancer in November of 2008. Meeting Alice at the Law Office where she had worked, Debbie knew things weren’t improving. Alice walked in not only with her cane, but also with purpose and a definite plan in her mind to fight her battle with cancer. They spent a few days talking just like when they were little. Watching TV, going to the store, and spending time together. Debbie would load the wheelchair into the car and her and her little sister would go to lunch and spend time doing the simple things.

Sometimes when someone gets sick it brings out their worst, but in Alice it just defined how truly amazing and strong she was. Anyone who got to meet Alice left with an enlightened heart and a better life. Alice held the qualities that all of us strive for: warmth, happiness, humor, and being the smart girl in the class, all qualities of which she kept while dealing with spreadsheets, medication, and vitamins.

Although the cancer quickly took her life, Alice lived life to the fullest and gave so much love. She had many people that were there for her. One would only hope to have that much Love. She loved life, and lived to enjoy her life with us. Anyone would be happy to have Alice as our little sister.

Deborah

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In March of ‘08 my friend invited me to join the LRRH ride. I thought it sounded like great fun, & my daughter & I planned on getting a room for Friday night & registering for the ride. Only days later, on Easter Sunday, I found a lump in my breast. I was shocked, even though I had lost my mom & sister to cancer; I just never really thought it would happen to me.

The call finally came with my biopsy results – NORMAL – I was told to come back in 6 months. What a relief!! But a few days later, I received another call from the women’s clinic – they wanted to see me again – NOW. For some reason, my results had been checked again, & they wanted another test done. The 2nd biopsy revealed cancer cells. My life changed forever in that moment. There is no description to the cold that grips your soul in a moment like that. In a blur, my year started unfolding: MRI, genetic testing, mastectomy, chemotherapy, a 2nd mastectomy & ovaries removed, (due to the BRCA1 gene), reconstruction.

Now, a year later, thank the Lord, I have just completed my final reconstruction surgery. And now, a year later, the LRRH bike ride is coming up again, but this time I WILL ride in it with both of my daughters! This ride will mean more to me than I can tell you. It will symbolize having made it through this past year, and mark a new beginning for me and my family & friends, who walked through this valley with me. Someday soon there will be an answer for cancer – may we honor all of the wonderful women we have known & those we have lost, who have fought this terrible disease, by raising money to find the cure NOW!

Update – March ’10 – The LRRH bike ride was awesome!! Ok, so we rode 15 miles, but it was such a victory for me!!! As we rode in to the park for the first time, the banner over the entrance read “VICTORY OVER CANCER” – I had to blink away the tears. This is my battle cry.

We finished the 15 mile ride and were thrilled with our accomplishment! My daughters and I have already signed up for this year’s ride, and my best friend from Spokane will be joining us. We are recruiting everyone we can. We also want to sponsor a rest stop, and we plan on being a part of this ride for years to come. We are going for 35 miles this year, and plan on increasing the distance each year. It is such an inspiring event – I loved seeing all of the costumes, all of the support, all of the SURVIVORS!! We DO make a difference!! We CAN beat this!! Let’s just DO IT!!!

~Sherry

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In 1980 my mother was diagnosed with a rare cancer, called leiomyosarcoma, involving a degenerative muscle in the muscular wall of the left ovarian artery. She had just given birth to her second child two weeks before the diagnosis. My family knew from the beginning there would be no possible treatment available – it was such a unique form, it was completely untreatable. She suffered for 3 years before the cancer took her in 1983. I was 7 when she passed away.

I think any family survivors of cancer victims can relate that as you grow older, the loss is more pressing and keenly felt as you reach milestones in your life where the loved one is greatly desired, but cannot attend. I’m now in my early 30s, and I still think of her daily.

Even as a child, you feel the need to do something to help the outcome, even if you’ve exhausted every possible option. A sense of helplessness never seems to dissipate with the passing of time.

This is why I race. I’m doing something, even though my mother is no longer here. I’m not sitting alone grieving. I’m working. It’s the physical “doing”, the exercise that is tremendously healing. It helps me feel closer to my mother and provides a positive outlet for my pain.

And what a tremendous resource to meet others who have suffered – in one way or another – from this painful disease and are now working just as hard to heal themselves and others. It’s a great association and I’m thrilled to be able to race with my family and friends in June.

Rachael

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My Cancer Story

By Sonia

On September 23, 2006 I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, I was 44 years old and up until that point I had worked very hard in my life. After 22 years in America, I had achieved success and financial independence. I was fit, my mind was always busy, I enjoyed my work, but stress was becoming my worst enemy.

The news of my cancer didn’t come as a surprise; it was as if I knew I was heading there some how. I had been diagnosed with “Invasive Ductal Carcinoma” and “Ductal Carcinoma In-Situ.” So, when I saw my doctor to discuss my diagnosis, he was shocked to see how calm I was to learn about this terrifying news. I didn’t cry, I didn’t ask why, I didn’t ask how it happened; it was like if I was expecting it. After talking to my Doctor I called my husband from the car and told him the news. He was more shocked than I and when I arrived home he came out to greet me with tears in his eyes. He helped me out of my car, embraced me and told me he loved me and he didn’t want me to go anywhere without him.

We then scheduled visits with many doctors to include: Oncologists, Surgeons, Radiologists, Radiation Therapists and Onco-Neurologists. An incredible line of cancer screens and tests where conducted and then a surgery day was scheduled for November 29, 2006. Dr. Phillip Sutton would remove my tumor and the “Ductal Carcinoma In-Situ.” Then daily radiation therapy would follow for six consecutive weeks.

Prior to my surgery I asked my doctor to pray with me. He held my hand tight and closed his eyes. I then made my prayer, in loud voice, and this time I had a special request from God and it was a request “for life.” I asked him to guide the hands of my surgeon so he could operate with “divine precision” and remove my cancer, so I would live to testify of his miracles.

Surgery was a success! When I woke up my doctor was holding my hand and calling my name. He then said “Your Cancer was completely removed and we believe it had not spread to your lymph nodes.” I was then placed on a daily chemo treatment (Tamoxifen) and I was told that this would be the path for the next five years.

Two weeks after my surgery I was in radiation therapy. Started like a daily visit to beach and by the end of the treatment I felt like a baked potato. My skin was raw, cooked and burned, it was hard to swallow, I was feverish and fatigued, I suffered bone pain, anemia and I was very weak. Radiation ended on February 20, 2007, and I was then feeling a new kind of pain and a constant burned sensation on my left breast (this is something I still feel with less intensity). But when I became very ill and things looked their worst, nothing was more inspiring to me than reading about how other patients survived against the odds and coped with their situations. There are as many different ways to survive as there are patients, and so I chose to learn something different from each one them. As I walked in the cancer clinic for my daily radiation, I asked myself what I was doing there. Every case seemed to be much more tragic than mine. Some were full of faith and many full of fear, but I knew I was there to learn of the courage of my fellow cancer patients.

For some people Cancer is curse but for me it has been a gift and a blessing. I learned the value of the gift of life. With determination I worked every day after my surgery and during my radiation treatment. It was at that point when I understood that God was very aware of whom I was. He was in control and putting order in my soul. My spirit was lifted and I felt the joy of life again.

Cancer is a big journey, a huge challenge and a major undertaking. Nevertheless, I found the love of Christ and the miracles of his blessings in the anguish and distress of cancer. Most people I knew – and many I didn’t – were unbelievably supportive, offering prayers and comfort when I needed it those most. It is always darkest before the dawn, the old saying goes, and often a declarer reaches that dark point during the early play that precedes his ultimate step toward victory.

In the middle of all this chaos, my business (www.vip-global.com) grew up incredibly fast and today we work with over 70 national and international Corporations, we became a Houston’s Fast 50 and Fast 100 enterprise, received recognition from the White House and Governor Rick Perry of the State of Texas and the year after my surgery I became the Hispanic Female Entrepreneur of the year.

I am now in my third year of Cancer treatment and I am doing well. My husband and I now work together at VIP, my daughter is a sophomore at BYU and our son is a Flight Engineer for the US Navy, in deployment in Iraq. Today, our relationship with him is incredible loving and positive, and I know he was also touched by my Cancer experience.

This is how God answered my prayers and this is my cancer miracle. He made himself very apparent to me. I could see him in my doctors, nurses, therapists, in my mother’s concern, in my brother’s support, in my daughter’s kindness, in my husband’s love and in my employees’ helping hands. He wanted me to know that He was very much in charge and that He was going to take care of my problems one-by-one.

“Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

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This fall I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, Stage I. I am 45. A routine mammogram saved my life when a lump was discovered and the journey began – a journey I am still on.

I had a lumpectomy in late October followed by 6 1/2 weeks of radiation, starting the medication Tamoxifen, and just last week having a complete hysterectomy. Since I was 16 years old, I have exercised 5-6 days per week, including completing a marathon when I was 18. I eat healthy (ok, I’m Italian and love red wine and chocolate), live a balanced life and even sing in the shower. How could Cancer come into this life? Clearly, cancer does not discriminate and it came into mine. I will say, however, that being reasonably fit and in good health has made a tremendous difference in my recovery from two major surgeries in 6 months, with radiation in the middle. Honoring my body’s need for rest has also played a significant role in my recovery both physically and mentally. As women, we tend to overlook our intuition and our body’s needs in order to take care of those around us first. Cancer changed that for me and has enlightened me as to my purpose – I must honor myself first. Wow, what a concept.

Family and friends make the other major difference. I have three teenagers, 18, 16 and 13. Our 18 year old son had just gone off to college when I received the diagnosis – not what you want your child to have to deal with alone, in the first month of college. This was so difficult for all of us – we brought him home a few weeks later before my surgery so we could all be together. Over his Christmas holiday, he took me to my first radiation and several after that – holding his arm each trip made me stronger. He calls me every day and sent me a memorable bouquet of flowers on my last day of radiation. Our daughter is 16 and said she knew from the beginning that everything was going to be okay. We are intuitively very connected, thus she has provided me with optimism and strength. I have loved the times laying on her bed with her talking – about everything and nothing. Finally, our 13 year-old son spends a lot of time hugging me and protecting me – when he is not eating. I gain more strength from each hug. My husband, Mike, is an amazing man and has been at the center of our family’s courage. He loves me so much and puts my needs before his.

My friends have sustained me. They pray for me, in groups and alone, have cooked for me for months, make me laugh, go to store for me, send me cards, gifts, phone calls, and overall they have lifted me up and carried me through this. Their love and commitment to me is humbling.

When a friend invited me to participate in this ride, something inside screamed yes. It stands for so many of the things that are meaningful to me – Being healthy, exercising and most of all the power of friendship, and what believing in something together can do. It also signifies the journey forward for me – I’m running back into life, or pedaling in this case.

I am a Breast Cancer survivor.

Patty

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I am not exactly a “cancer” survivor…the type of tumors I had are considered cancerous by some but not by others, I choose “not cancer”. But here is my story in case it might be helpful…

In the summer of 2004 my stomach muscles were sore from riding my jet ski. When I rubbed my sore muscles I noticed a bump, the bump didn’t go away. I went to the doctor and after much poking, prodding and testing it turned out to be a rare type of tumor called a Desmoid tumor. It was in the innermost layer of my stomach muscles. August 2004 I had surgery to remove the tumor. This type of tumor has a tendency to recur locally (it does not metastasize but it is fast growing and aggressive- it has tentacles that surround and can suffocate the tissue it is near) so it is not cancerous but not exactly benign either….really rare yadda yadda. It is usually caused by trauma, I fell hiking and landed hard on a sharp rock on the affected area about a year before I found the tumor. (and for the 2nd one what would be more traumatic than surgery?)

So I was hopeful I was done after the first surgery because the “margins were all clear” which means the Dr. got it all. But I did keep an eye on the area because of the recurrence thing and then within 6 months I felt another lump right next to my scar. A CT scan confirmed it was back, but small this time. Because the Dr. had already been in there and “mucked” around, this surgery (in May 2005) ended up being much more invasive. He had to remove my entire abdominus rectus muscle on the right side, that’s the muscle that runs up and down in your stomach, he also used a 6″ X 6″ piece of mesh to hold the rest of my muscles together on the right hand side of my stomach. Also this time we decided to do radiation therapy to prevent the tumor from coming back again, I did radiation 5 times per week for 5 weeks and finished that in July 05.

So in July I will be 5 years tumor free!

Interestingly one of the “impacts” of this experience has been a “freeing” from some of the old messages I had about having a perfect body. I will never have flat abs nor a “6 pack”, it isn’t even possible so I don’t have to worry about that! I am also much more aware of my health, I am as healthy as I have been in my adult life and even weigh less than I did when I graduated high school!

I started cycling in between the 2 surgeries. The LRRH last year was my first 100 mile ride. My goal is to finish faster this year!

Thanks for the LRRH! Good luck finding the stories you are looking for. Let me know if I can answer any questions.

Tami (age 36)

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To Whom It May Concern:

On July 9, 2008, three days before my 45th birthday I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My tumor was found because of a year to year comparison of my previous mammograms that I had begun getting when I turned 40. Just 5 days before my diagnosis, I had ridden 36 miles on my new road bike given to me by my husband for our wedding anniversary. I felt so good that day. Amazing how your life can be turned upside-down in just a moment. With very little family history, my cancer diagnosis was a shock to say the least.

On July 23rd I had a lumpectomy and a 5mm tumor was removed from my left breast, about as small as a tumor can be and be detected by mammogram. One month later I began a 7 week course of radiation treatments. I rode my bike the 16 miles round trip from my home in Sandy to St. Mark’s Hospital for my treatments for the first two weeks. I am a year and a half cancer free.

My story is not unique, but it is worthwhile noting that if the new mammogram guidelines announced this year had been in effect I might not have been getting the proper screenings to detect my cancer in the early stages. According to the new guidelines it isn’t worth screening 1900 women to save just one life. I am the 1 in 1900 that has been saved because of early cancer screenings. I am a wife, a mother of two teenagers, a daughter and a friend. I am a per diem Physical Therapist at the University Hospital Burn Trauma ICU. My life has been saved due to my own diligence in seeking proper screenings, being an advocate for my own health, and excellent doctors who advised me to get mammograms beginning at age 40.

This year I chose to enter Little Red Riding Hood Century Ride for Women’s Cancer Research to encourage women and the people who love them to be advocates for their own health: get the proper screenings, be the 1 in 1900 who’s life is saved.

Because of my yearly mammograms my cancer was little, it was detected early and now it is GONE!!!

Sincerely,

Jillian

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I am 33 years old and have been dealing with skin cancer since I was 19. My most recent surgery was in January of this year.

Here is my story:

I grew up in Texas. My youth was spent outside. I have been a swimmer and athlete all my life. My family spent the weekends windsurfing on the beach. In secondary school, I was on the tennis and swim teams, which practiced daily for a few hours. Swimming and tennis had no off season because the weather was always suitable for outside practice. I was tan all my life. I did not go to tanning booths. I did not need to.

When I was a freshman at University of Texas, I noticed a sore on my forehead. I made an appointment with a dermatologist who looked at and diagnosed it at acne with a bacterial infection. This was a logical diagnosis because I was still an adolescent with normal skin problems. The antibiotics helped, but the sore never fully went away. I assumed that it was a scar. Over a year later, I returned to another dermatologist who checked out the area and chose to do a biopsy. The biopsy came back and I was told that I had cancer. This was the beginning of over a decade of battling this disease.

Because of the original misdiagnosis, the cancer spread below the skin’s surface (which was why I did not return to the doctor for a year). It had unnecessarily become a serious, life-threatening condition. I have since had multiple surgeries including a skin graft and many plastic surgeries. The cancer keeps returning to other places on my face, chest, arms and legs. Fortunately I have a type of cancer that can be easily detected and treated. I have been vigilant in regularly seeing my skin cancer specialist.

I am always happy to share my story because I think that skin cancer is viewed as a disease for older people. I have lived in Utah for only a few years, and I am shocked by the popularity of tanning among both youth and adult women. The idea that tan skin looks healthier and prettier than pale should be an antiquated idea. I am so concerned for these women and men who embrace the tanning lifestyle. I am also concerned about athletes and recreationalists who are cavalier in their use of sun protection. I participate in winter sports because I can cover my whole body with protective gear, but I know among skiers and snowboarders the “goggle tan” is a status symbol. This is a dangerous trend. I have a family friend who died of Melanoma just a few months ago. She was in her early 30s. The melanoma was in her eye.

I want the youth especially to know that they are not immune to the harmful effects of the sun, especially irresponsible exposure like tanning. I was a teenager when I got skin cancer, and it has affected my life dramatically. I have lots of visible scars, about which I am self conscious. I cannot spend time in the sun. I’ve had to limit or cease the activities that I hoped to spend my life doing (tennis, surfing, swimming, kayaking, etc.). In the past, I have been cavalier about my protecting myself from sun exposure, and inevitably a tumor appears. I have not let myself become a victim of my disease, but I do have to exercise indoors, at night, or in shaded areas only.

I’m excited for the Little Red Riding Hood ride. It is a great cause and will be my longest bike ride yet! Pray for cloud coverage!

Liz

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If you get hard up for a story I am a 17 year cancer survivor—Thyroid Cancer; Lymph Nodes; 3 times in my 20’s.

This is my 3rd LRRH ride and I credit strenuous exercise to my cancer free record.

Sally

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I am not a cancer survivor, but my husband is. We dealt with cancer 6.5 years ago when he was just 23 and I was 25. My sister and I will both be riding in LRRH. My story is attached. Thanks for the opportunity to share it.

-Natalie

Cancer has touched my life in many ways. That’s not something I like to write. While I have not had cancer myself, I know and am close to many people who have. Of course it hit home more than I could ever have expected when my husband and soul mate, Joe, was diagnosed with stage III Lymphomia 18 months after we were married, at 23 years old.

Joe and I were high school sweethearts who dated for years and “waited” for each other while we both served missions for the LDS church. We were married in December of 2001, just 4 months after Joe got back from Brazil. There was never any question, we were just supposed to be together. We were both students at the U and enjoyed traveling together, eating out and just having fun.

In April of 2003 Joe started to get sick. I will spare you the gory details, but let’s just say he didn’t feel well and he had to go to the bathroom a lot more often than he would have liked. Because he’s a man and they never want to go to the doctor, he didn’t really do anything about it for a couple of weeks, but at the beginning of May he finally decided to go. Up until that point in our marriage neither of us had had more than a cold or the flu, so we did not have a doctor we usually went to see. Joe decided to just go to an urgent care clinic where the doctor told him his problems were minor and gave him a prescription sure to clear things up in 6 weeks. Not knowing any better, Joe used the medication for the prescribed 6 weeks and just rode it out. Unfortunately (since he had been misdiagnosed) he kept getting worse, not better. It got to the point where he was making trips to the bathroom at least every hour, if not more often. When he went back after 6 weeks the doctor said, “Well if that’s not it I can’t help you and you need to see a specialist.” We tried to get an appointment for Joe with a gastroenterologist, and were told it would be 3 weeks. Again, not knowing any better, we just waited. In retrospect we should have taken him to the ER and demanded that he be seen. Now we know better. By the time we got to see the gastroenterologist Joe was one very sick man. We had been roaming the Internet and trying to diagnose him ourselves and \ we were pretty sure he had Crone’s Disease or Gastroenteritis. Boy, were we wrong. After sending Joe for a Colonoscopy the doctor called us in to meet with him (on July 15, the day before Joe turned 23) and gave us the diagnosis. At first when he said Lymphoma that meant nothing to me. It wasn’t until he used the word “Cancer” that I finally began to understand what he meant. I’m sure he told us a lot of stuff, but I don’t remember any of it. I just remember he said “Cancer”.

Within the next week we met with a surgeon to talk about whether Joe would need to have part or all of his colon removed. He wanted to wait and hear what the oncologist had to say. On July 23rd Joe had a CT scan in the morning. In order to have an abdominal CT you have do drink a contrast solution the folks at the office called call “The Cocktail.” It has the consistency of Mylanta and from what I Joe has told me it tastes like chalk mixed with no-name fruit punch (and not in a good way). He tried to go to work after that, but was throwing up and just couldn’t do it. He had just called to tell me he was going home from the office of Dr. Clyde Ford who would be his new oncologist. He wasn’t supposed to see them until the next week, but based on his CT scan and continued symptoms they wanted to see him that day. I got off of work and we both went in. We got there and I gave his name and the receptionist immediately jumped up to tell people Joe was there and started yelling about needing his chart. Their urgency was appreciated, and somewhat disturbing. We met with Dr. Ford and he determined that Joe’s treatment needed to start that day – as in right then. The first thing Dr. Ford needed to do was “stage” Joe’s cancer. That meant doing a bone-marrow biopsy to find out if the cancer had spread to the marrow. I can’t remember if they offered to let me stay in the room for that, if they did I know I opted out. The thought of sitting there while they rammed a large needle into my husband’s hip bone just about sent me over the edge. The way Joe describes it they really have to shove to get it in there and it was NOT pleasant. After that they hooked him up to have his first chemo treatment. We sat in the chemo room where they have big recliner chairs for the patients and TV to watch while the nurse, Michelle, hooked Joe up to an IV and told us a little bit about what to expect. As she squeezed the neon green liquid into Joe’s tube she said “let me know if this starts to burn, because this stuff will eat right through your veins.” Great. It was about 5:00 pm at this point and pretty much everyone had left because it was the night before a state holiday. It was eerie being there with just a couple of people and watching that green stuff drip into Joe knowing that it was going to make him really sick, and then hopefully save his life. When the IV was done they just sent us home.

I was very nervous taking Joe back home after that first treatment. We knew that some of the side effects of the chemo included nausea, exhaustion, hair loss and other things, but we didn’t know how quickly those things would start. I was worried that if there was really something new wrong with him I wouldn’t know because we would just think it was a side effect of the chemo. I was scared. Luckily for me, I didn’t really have to worry about it for too long, because within a couple of hours of arriving home we got a call from Dr. Ford’s office. They told us they had decided that it would be better if we brought Joe in to LDS hospital for observation over night. I think both Joe and I were relieved. We packed up a few things for our ‘overnight’ stay and headed over to the hospital. It ended up being the first night of Joe’s 3 months in the hospital.

Throughout this whole process I think the various medical staff did a good job of telling us what we needed to know without scaring us by letting us know how bad it really was. I now know that that night was very scary, but at the time I didn’t realize it. Apparently the reason we were told to check into the hospital was that they were afraid the chemo they had just given Joe would cause the tumors he had to break apart and go all over his body, releasing all sorts of nasty stuff in the process. In order to avoid that they brought him in and pumped him FULL of water. The hope was that the additional fluid would help to flush any unwanted chemicals out of his system. During the course of one night his weight went up 20 pounds. They were able to flush everything out of his system and he started feeling a little bit better.

At this point the time line of events gets a little fuzzy for me, so I’ll just tell you what I remember, but I’m not sure how far into the 3 months everything falls. They decided that they needed to keep Joe in the hospital. There were a lot of reasons for this including risk of infection, daily chemo treatments, and just generally being in bad shape. During the next 3 months I think they let me take him home for the weekend 2 or 3 times, but we were always back within a couple of days either for more treatment or because he had a fever (indicating possible infection). At some point Joe stopped passing food through his colon so they put him on TPN (fed him through an IV) and he couldn’t eat or drink anything by mouth. That was pretty miserable. After a few days of that they decided that it would be better to just give him a colostomy so that he could get back to eating and drinking, but still give his colon a rest.

When Joe first started to get sick and we thought he might have a disease associated with his digestive tract we knew that a colostomy was a possibility. I remember thinking that would be just about the worst thing in the world. Imagining my husband having to wear a bag on his stomach where his poop came out was horrible. I’m sure most of you would feel the same way. However, I can honestly say that when they finally decided to do it, it was nothing but pure relief. Knowing that he could return to some sort of normal existence was amazing. He would be able to eat and drink AND he would not have to make trips to the bathroom every 15 minutes. There are so many things in this world worse than having poop come out of your side into a bag. Believe me.

After Joe had the colostomy surgery and they brought him back to his room the most amazing nurse, Lian, came by to teach both of us how to take care of it. I should probably mention here that I almost passed out the first time I saw it. Not because it grossed me out, just because it was strange and not at all what I expected. They literally take a piece of your bowel and bring it up to the surface of your abdomen. When it was first done it looked very large (the size of a toddler’s fist) but after a couple of weeks it shrank down to the size of a quarter. This really was a relief for Joe. He was able to start eating again…just in time to be sick from all the chemo.

Because Joe’s cancer was so extremely aggressive it was treated very aggressively. I believe that Dr. Ford truly saved Joe’s life by taking this course of action. Instead of having chemo stretched out over several months he got it all crammed into a few weeks. Chemo works because it kills off the fast growing cancer cells in your body. It also kills off other fast growing cells. The side effects of chemo are brutal. We shaved his head pretty early on to avoid having his hair fall out, but even the fuzz that was left would fall

out on his pillow. He was very nauseous a lot of the time and food was not a pleasure. He had a particular aversion to the Swiss Steak at the hospital. Even the smell of it made him hurl. To this day I don’t think he’ll eat Swiss Steak. He lost a lot of weight. I think at the worst of it he was down to around 160 lbs (from 225lbs). The medication they give you to combat nausea basically makes you sleep all the time. I think that’s one of the reasons Joe doesn’t remember too much about those 12 weeks. Chemo also kills off a lot of your blood cells. It kills off your white blood cells which leaves you very susceptible to infections of all sorts. They had to monitor Joe all the time and watch him for a fever or any other signs of something worse. It kills off your red blood cells which makes you anemic. Joe had many blood transfusions. I don’t even remember how many.

One side effect we weren’t expecting was the nerve damage to Joe’s feet. He lost feeling in his toes and had ‘foot drop.’ It was really frustrating for him and it was one of the things that lasted the longest. It took probably a year for him to be able to walk regularly again and about 2 years before he could really feel his toes. A short time into his hospital stay Joe got a PIC line placed. This was a semi-permanent IV that was placed in his arm with a line running straight up to his heart. It was used to inject drugs he needed, but it was also used to draw blood needed for tests several times a day. It was really nice because before he got that they were poking him with a needle all the time. I had to learn to take care of it when we were home which included flushing it with clean solution to keep it clear.

One of the worst treatments for Joe was when they gave him intrathecal chemotherapy. This means that they injected chemo drugs into his spinal canal. This is one of the best ways to disburse the drugs throughout the lymph system. Unfortunately it’s also pretty painful and in order to avoid a killer headache Joe had to lie flat on his back for several hours after each treatment. It was very frustrating for him.

Most of the days at the hospital all blur together. In the morning Joe got breakfast that he usually wouldn’t eat except for the cold cereal. A CNA came in every 4 hours to take his vitals. As long as they were fine most of the day was spent watching TV. They didn’t have the best selection of channels. We watched a lot of Law & Order. Most days I went to work while other family members would come to sit with him. He didn’t want to do too much. Reading took too much concentration. If anything sounded good for dinner I would bring something in after work. The hospital didn’t mind too much if I brought him food as long as he was eating.

The staff at the hospital was great. The RN’s and the CNA’s that work on the East Eighth floor at LDS hospital are really special. To be able to deal with all of those patients every day must be very difficult, especially when not all of them get well. There were a few male nurses and CNA’s (I particularly remember Tony and John) that really connected with Joe. It was nice for him to have some men around in a job that’s heavily dominated by women. The nurses were very good at keeping me informed and at keeping us sane. I will however say that the nurses were overworked and the hospital was understaffed. They always did their best, but sometimes it was very frustrating not to get things as fast as we needed them or to feel like they didn’t have time for Joe because he wasn’t sick enough. That’s the main reason that we rarely left Joe all alone. I’m so very appreciative to our extended family. I do not think I could have kept going to work every day if he had been by himself.

One day I remember in particular was a day that reaffirmed the need to have someone there with Joe. Actually I know it was September 26, 2003, because it was my brother’s birthday. Plans fell through for whoever it was that was supposed to be there and so we figured it would be ok for him to spend one day on his own. I saw him in the morning and then went to work. I spoke to him on the phone mid-morning and he was doing well. He mentioned that he had a low fever, but that was fairly common so I wasn’t too worried. They usually gave him Tylenol and managed it pretty well. I called him back at about 4:00 and he wasn’t ok any more. He told me he was feeling worse than normal and it was obvious on the phone that he was out of it. I left work immediately and went up to the hospital. By the time I got there he was delirious. He wasn’t making any sense and kept going in and out of sleep. I found his nurse and was very distressed to find out that she didn’t even know he had a fever. The CNA that had taken his vitals at noon had forgotten to tell his nurse. Of course they jumped into action right away, but by then he was in pretty bad shape. Dr. Ford came in and told me that unless his fever came down quickly he would be moved to the ICU that night. I was VERY scared. I called my mom and she came up and stayed that night with me. I really thought I might lose him that night and kept jumping up to make sure he was still breathing. Luckily Joe responded to the Tylenol and cold packs and his fever eventually came down.

And then it seemed that almost as quickly as the whole thing started, it was over. One day in early October they said it was time to go home. Joe’s intensive treatment was over and basically there was nothing else they could do at that time. We were so excited to go home, but also scared to see what would happen. Joe still needed a bit of care so we had home health nurses that came in for a while. He still had his PIC line so I got to take care of that. He also still had the colostomy so he got the joy of living with that for a while longer. Joe was really weak so he spent most of his time watching the food network and playing Nintendo.

After a couple of weeks Joe was scheduled to go in for testing to find out if the cancer was gone. He went through an extensive PET scan along with lots of blood tests. We were very apprehensive about the results, but when they came back he was 100% clear of cancer cells. It was such an amazing relief and made the recovery ahead of him look like cake. Within a few more weeks he was able to return to the hospital to have his colostomy taken down, which was a relief also. Eventually he was able to get back to work and we started to resume life as normal.

Of course after going through something like that you never really get back to normal. Having looked death in the face changed both of us. It brought us closer together and helped us get our priorities straight. Anything that wasn’t going to kill us all of a sudden didn’t seem that bad. We learned how to rely on other people and on God. Our faith was strengthened time and time again.

Because Joe’s cancer was so aggressive, we were told that if it was going to come back it would have done so quickly. They doctors continued to monitor him closely for several months and he had CT scans every 3 moths at first, then every 6. Now that it’s been six and a half years the chances of him getting cancer from the CT scan are greater than those of his lymphoma coming back. He is officially cancer free.

The true happy ending to the story came about 14 months after Joe was deemed to be cancer free when I got a very unexpected positive on a home pregnancy test. I mentioned before that chemo kills the fast growing cells in your body, one of the results of that is that it usually leaves patients infertile. Joe and I had talked about that with Dr. Ford who had told us never to say never. We had decided not to worry about it for a couple of years and that once Joe was out of school we would look into our options. Turns out we didn’t have to wait that long. Our son, Brad, was born almost exactly 2 years after Joe finished treatment and our daughter, Lucy, was born 2 1/2 years after that. Both of our babies are miracles.

Looking back at that is always very emotional for me – a lot more emotional than I thought it would be. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if things had turned out differently. I can’t imagine a single day of my life without Joe and our kids. I thank God all the time for our little family. I’m so grateful He gave us the opportunity to share this life together with all that it entails and as I speak with other people I am constantly reminded that not every cancer story has a happy ending. Cancer is a horrible, dark disease which continues to affect more and more people. Cancer research is so very important and is something every one should consider a priority. I hope that by participating in events which benefit cancer research I will never forget what went into the life saving efforts which gave me the life with Joe I have today.

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Following are some of the touching personal stories we’ve received over the years – we invite you to share your story with us.

Last March my friend invited me to join the LRRH ride. I thought it sounded like great fun, & my daughter & I planned on getting a room for Friday night & registering for the ride. Only days later, on Easter Sunday, I found a lump in my breast. I was shocked, even though I had lost my mom & sister to cancer; I just never really thought it would happen to me.

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I went in for my annual mammogram last April and was in shock when I got a call back from the doctor who told me I had breast cancer. I had a lumpectomy in May, followed by chemo and radiation which I finished 1 month ago.

The Little Red Riding Hood ride will be my victory over cancer celebration. I’m thrilled that family members and friends are riding or helping, or coming to the luau and eating as a form of support.

I’ve heard how much fun this event is and am very grateful to the Bonneville Cycling Club for sponsoring it and donating the proceeds to breast cancer research. It’s time to find a cure for this damn disease!

I’d like to dedicate this ride to Tammy Smith, who’s entry on this site touched me deeply, and to any other women who are currently in treatment for breast cancer. I’ll ride for you this year, and we can ride together next year!

~Judy Torres

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Just wanted to let you know how excited our team is to participate in Little Red Riding Hood this year. Last year we were the ladybugs. This year we will be the hula girls. Our team of eight will dedicate our ride this year to my 33-year-old niece who found out she was pregnant just over a month ago, and then found out she has breast cancer 3 weeks ago. She recently had a mastectomy, and our ride is in honor of her and of hope for her full recovery. We will wear her picture on the back of our jerseys. We are excited to be able to participate in such a worthy, worthwhile event. Thank you for all your hard work to promote it and make it such a fabulous yearly event. More than ever this time, we are riding for the cure!

Happy Riding! ~Julene Reese

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I am not a breast cancer survivor, but I do have a story. My mother and her six sisters all had breast cancer. Now my two eldest cousins and one of their daughters has breast cancer. My mother did not survive the cancer. She fought for 12 years and finally it won. My doctors were all very concern so they had me do genetic counseling and found out that I was at a very high risk. So, I have had both of my breasts removed and a full hysterectomy to prevent cancer.

I will be riding with a women who is now fighting breast cancer and two women who lost their mother to breast cancer last October. They also have three other sisters and all of them have tested positive for the bracca (sp) cancer gene.

That is our story. Looking forward to the ride.
~Sandi Sorensen

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This year I cannot participate in the Red Riding Hood ride. I was diagnosed with breast cancer December 26, 2006. I just finished Chemo and am getting ready to start radiation therapy for 6 weeks. Unfortunately, my strength has been zapped and I have been unable to train for this years ride. At this point I doubt I would make it to the end of the driveway! However, I was wondering if there was any other way I could help. Do you need volunteers? Can I still purchase a bike shirt? Can I purchase other items if I am not participating in the ride?

Thank you in advance for taking the time to answer this email. Next year I will be back – better than ever!!! (and a little lighter too! there are some advantages to chemo)
~Tammy L. Smith

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Yes, I am a breast cancer survivor. I was diagnosed Oct. 02. Received treatments until Jan 15 of 03. Since then I have only done races or rides that benefit cancer groups. I am now a 3 year triathlete thanks to the disease. It has turned my life around. I started triathlons for cancer benefits. in 04. My big triathlon this year is Tri for the cure in Denver Aug. 5th. 3000 women only. Susan Komen of course. Let me know if you would like to know more. I could go on and on. I am excited for the ride. This will be my first road ride experience for a function.
~Marilyn

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At age 37 In June of 2000 and working 13 years as a Kindergarten Teacher, I found myself finally moving to a new school. It was a cumbersome project. It took most of the summer to move everything I had collected in those years. Also, in June of 2000, went to have my yearly Pap smear and breast exam. The doctor found lumps on my breasts. I knew about them but my breasts had lumps most of my adult life and none of the physicians were alarmed enough to investigate further. This particular time in June the doctor put my hand on my left breast where she had found one of the many lumps. I replied that I knew it was there and she asked me how much caffeinated beverages I was drinking. That was it. No concern, no further investigation or warning that this lump or the others that were found might be a cause for concern. I put my trust in her and I went on with my life as usual.

Six months later I came home from work and found blood coming from my nipple on the left side. Alarmed as any women would be I immediately phoned my doctor to report this. I was informed that if it did not happen again I would be fine but if it did happen again that I should be concerned. The next day I attempted to make an appointment with a new nurse practitioner that many of my heath club buddies ranted and raved about. The office personnel were not very receiving and I had to wait another three months to get in to see her. After all, I shouldn’t be worried because my previous doctor certainly was not concerned! When I finally got to see the nurse she felt the lump for a few seconds and expressed alarm and concern that nothing was done previously. She ran out of the exam room and I could hear her on the phone ordering a mammogram and an ultrasound. I could tell that she was alarmed just by the tone of her voice. I was worried but I kept thinking that the previous doctor was not concerned at all and after all, she must have the medical knowledge to make that judgment. A couple of weeks later I heard the surgeon’s voice on the phone saying, “it’s Cancer”. I was devastated. I was only 37 years old. How could this happen to me? Cancer did not run in my family. Why didn’t the previous doctor recommend a mammogram or another visit to check on my condition? After all she was the expert. She went to medical school. My tumor was significantly large. I was in stage 3. I had to have an additional surgery to remove my breast.

Eight months prior to my diagnosis, my new boss, principal and friend announced in faculty meeting that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I had just spent the last 8 months watching her undergo chemotherapy and radiation. She was very sick. But determined as she is, she kept working most of the time. The strength she displayed while undergoing treatment for cancer was incredible. She was my new boss and I was recognizing the first year at the school that she was very supportive and caring of her staff. When I informed her of my breast cancer it was as it she became my anchor, my support. She came to both of my surgeries and every single chemotherapy session. I realize now that it probably made her sick watching me get chemotherapy because it made me feel very nauseated. Having a year round school schedule, she asked teachers how many would be willing to take over my class for a week while I was home vomiting and recovering. Many volunteered while they were off track. When I came back to school my boss would dome down to my room several times a day and demand that I take a break while she watched my students. Because of her continued support I too made it through devastating treatment. I really doubt that I could have undergone chemo without her support. I know now that moving from one school to another had much to do with my higher power. I completed all my treatment in the winter of 2001 just before the Olympics came to Utah. My life was changed forever. I felt that I had been given a second chance at life, a new beginning.

Most of my life I have enjoyed working out, and involved myself in spin class. My friends convinced my to get a road bike. I absolutely loved riding outside. It was such a thrill to see the sun setting and the beautiful country while riding. I began doing century rides. I became involved in raising awareness of this devastating illness called cancer. I raised $6000.00 dollars for the Huntsman Cancer Institute and rode 100 miles around Lake Tahoe. I raised the most money so I received the yellow jersey from HCI. I did several other centuries as time went by including Little Red Riding Hood, the SLC, Toole, St George, Logan, and Heber.

In July of 2005 I was out riding like the many times that I did in the summer months. I was doing one of my favorite quick rides and was coming down a hill by my house when my life was changed once again. I was hit by a car driven by a 79 year old woman. I don’t remember the impact. I remember waking up just as I was about to go onto the ambulance and then later on Air Med. My broken body needed repair. I endured an open Tab, Fib fracture with 3 surgeries and later 2 hand surgeries. I had to miss the first day of school in fact the first 8 weeks of school. I had already learned my students’ names. All I needed was to match their faces to each name that I had learned. I was once again devastated. I spent the next 3 weeks in the hospital and six weeks at home recovering. I was angry and frustrated.

Again, the boss a friend I had grown to love was there with her support. I found comfort and joy with my new students as soon as I returned to work. I was nominated for an outstanding educator award and out of 500 applicants I was in the top 20. The next February 2006, I completed the Zion Country Spring century. I was still healing so I wasn’t sure if I’d do the whole 100 but some how I did And I completed 8 other centuries, the most I had ever done in a 4 month period. My confidence was back.

Just after I completed the Heber century I felt some swollen lymph nodes in my neck about the size of a pea. I had a cold at the time and just passed it off as a symptom of the cold. I was sure that the swollen nodes were getting smaller. Then one day I realized they had been around for longer than the cold and they were not going away. I went to my regular scheduled six month check up with my Oncologist and again bad news. The cancer had metastasized. I couldn’t speak. My thoughts were racing. I had so many. I kept thinking in my mind does this mean death? I am too young. Was this my reward for just completing 9 centuries? Why me? I thought that I had beaten cancer down and it was gone forever. I was sure of it. I had survived 5 ½ years and in my mind it was not coming back. Now what? Was there any hope for my life left?

I am currently receiving my second round chemotherapy each week and surprisingly despite the weight gain from the steroids, I am handling it well. I just did the marathon bicycle ride even though I was quite fatigued at the finish line. I have signed up for the Toole, SLC, and Little Red Riding Hood Centuries. Although I may do the metric century on most of these rides I just keep telling myself “Hey I am still out there riding!” That is an accomplishment in itself to be out riding despite the circumstances. There was no cancer found at the time of my last scan. I hope that I can enjoy the summer riding into the sunset and enjoying the scenery.
~Becky McKenzie

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Thanks for organizing this ride to support breast cancer survivors. I come from a family with a history of breast cancer. My older sister found a lump in her breast while tending children about 20 years ago. She felt a sore spot when lifting the children and had it checked up on. It was a malignant cancer lump. She had a lumpectomy, lymph glands removed and radiation. She went for 17 years thinking she had beat it. Then she found another lump in the same breast. She had her breast removed, then found two more lumps, did Chemotherapy and radiation which shrunk the lumps, and is now one year past the treatments and is doing fine so far. Her pet scans have come out clear so far. We pray for her all the time. She is leading a normal life and very grateful for every passing day.

My mother had cancer found in a routine mammogram about 12 years ago. She had a lumpectomy and radiation which has cured her so far. She is turning 88 this August. Myself and my daughter have both had a nonmalignant tumor removed. As you can see, I have hereditary cancer in my family and therefore, I have my yearly mammogram and am doing fine so far. I am proud and happy to ride for the Little Red Riding Hood Bike Ride supporting the fight against Breast Cancer.

My group that are riding just started last year and we are doing it again this year with some riders joining us for the fun of it. We are a group of ladies, mostly over 50 years old and we call ourselves the “Hot Buff Women” and we love to do active things together to prove that we can still do it! We have some younger gals joining us who have heard about the ride and expressed interest. Our motto is “the more the merrier”. We also love it when some of our daughters join us. We had two daughters last year and may have several more daughters join us again this year.

Thank you for providing a ride for just women and a good cause and for making it a fun ride for a bunch of little old ladies.
~ Marcia Moon

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My mother has been such a great example in my life. She has always promoted health and fitness. I remember going to bed at night while she was doing her Richard Simmons exercise videos. Now that I am older I truly appreicate my moms teachings.

She is a certified Yoga instructor and I am a certified Spinning and Aerobic Instructor. We both are very active and love spending time together. Cycling was a great way to bring us together and do something good for our bodies at the same time.

My Mom has participated in the “Little Red Riding hood” for the past 3 years and last year was my first. It was such a great experience! We laughed the whole time! The best thing about it was that the men were serving the women! We really look forward to riding in it again this year. We have My Aunt and her daughter joining us along with some of our friends. The husbands will be volunteering and cheering on the wives. It is guarenteed to be a day full
~Anon of fun

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I am riding in memory of my aunt Margy, an amazing woman who died of breast cancer at the age of 33. She left behind 6 kids and as I have watched them grow, I have become increasingly committed to being a part of the cure for this devastating disease.

This is my first Little Red, and I have heard so many wonderful things about the ride. I owned and operated a health club for women for 6 years and in that role I became deeply passionate about working with, and for, women. I am so excited to ride with you this year, and look forward to making it an annual tradition. See you in Logan!
~Denise Druce

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Penny,
My mother is a 23 year survivor of stage 3 breast cancer. She is now 73 years old and well. Even thought the side effects of the therapies caused permanent damage to her feet, kidney’s and muscles- there is not a day she is not thankful to be alive. My mother is in San Diego- she advocates for breast cancer awareness and is involved there.
~Missy

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For years I was a long distance runner–I ran several marathons. I loved running and thought I would go on running ’til the end of time–or at least until the end of my time. Then one day hip replacement surgery put an end to my running. I was told by my doctor that running would wear out my new hip very quickly and I would soon need another replacement. It took me a few years to accept the fact that I was through running–even though I wasn’t running. People who knew me as a runner would ask if I was still running. It took me awhile to deal with that. I was no longer a runner.

Then last year I heard about the Little Red Riding Hood bike ride and decided to enter. I was quite nervous about switching from being on foot to riding a bike, but I kept training. When I finished the Little Red Ridng Hood I was elated. I had done it. AND I could hardly wait to do it again this year.
~Marie Haney

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I am riding for all the women (and men) who I used to know when I was coordinator (1996-2001) of the High Risk Breast Cancer Clinic at Huntsman Cancer Institute at Huntsman Cancer Institute. I no longer work at the Institute but miss the family members that I came to know well and care about. I am also riding for my friend Becky who found a large lump on March 24th, had it biopsied on Friday (April 13), and was told that it was very likely malignant. I’m going with her to the surgeon’s appointment tomorrow, April 16, to get the definitive diagnosis, and if it’s cancer, I will be with her every step of the way through her treatment.
~Marybeth Hart Janerich

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My mother is a breast cancer survivor. She had bilateral mastectomies 31 years ago at the age of 50. She is still in great health and a very inspirational survivor. At 81 she still takes her 2 dogs on daily walks and maintains her home in Mexico and in UT. I am riding in her honor.
~ Pat

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I am riding in memory of two wonderful women who died of breast cancer after very valiant efforts to beat the disease. Much has been done in the way of earlier and better diagnosis since my aunt and my friend were diagnosed, but as we all know, there is more to do.

I rode last year for the first time and this year I actually have a road bike – the metric century should be easier! This is a great way to increase awareness and most importantly to recognize the women that are cancer survivors. I work for The Sharing Place, a grief support program for children here in SLC and continuing to recognize those that have survived and those that have not is very important. Little Red, for me, it is a great opportunity to do both.

My aunt: Jean Hornig
My friend: Joanie Harper
Thanks,
~Gaylen Hasson

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I’ll be riding for my mother-in-law who lost the battle to breast cancer in 1985 and for her daughter, grand-daughters and great-grand-daughters – that their lives will be filled with hope and the promise of a bright future free of the disease.
~Cathi Allen

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