Day: October 16, 2016

Posted on

8/20/15

Hello there #teamklb,

It’s been a LONG time since my last post, but I thought it was time to fill you in on what’s been going on in my life lately.

Most of you know that I accepted a new position at work – I will be a Math TOSA (Teacher on Special Assignment). This means that I’ll be teaching teachers and coaching them with our new Common Core State Standards and our newly adopted math curriculum. School is now back in session, and this past Monday, while being introduced to about 350 teachers as the district’s new Math TOSA, it felt like quite a victory. One year ago I was scared to get the results back from my breast MRI and now here I am in a new position in the district. It felt like I had really won. I think of all that I’ve gone through and accomplished in the last 12 months, and it amazes me. I kicked cancer’s ass, went into remission, successfully completed radiation, went back to work, applied for and accepted the Math TOSA position, finished a bunch of nutrition classes, and started a new job. WOW. I’d like to thank Lori for taking a chance one me in this role. When I got home from the interview, I told Jim that I thought I totally bombed the interview. I had chemobrain on top of normal nervousness. When I was offered the position, Jim told me that even when I think I stink, I’m still pretty awesome. Thanks! <3

I spent most of my summer either packing up my classroom (sniffle, sniffle) or doing homework (LOTS OF HOMEWORK). I wanted to use my free time to get caught up and possibly “ahead”. Every month I basically have a 10-12 page paper to write. It’s getting easier now that I’m in the swing of things, but it still takes a ton of my time. I should be finished with my nutrition program in early spring 2016. YAY!

Most of you also know that we took a “Katie Kicked Cancer’s Ass” trip to Europe this past summer as well. My mom, Kamy, Jim, and I spent 2 1/2 weeks traveling through Italy and Mallorca. It was an amazing trip and it definitely scratched my traveling itch. It was hotter than hell, but we still had an amazing time. My favorites: 1) walking out of the Venice train station and seeing waterways and not roads, 2) eating padron peppers every chance I got in Mallorca, 3) Florence, everything Florence, especially the food, 4) the glass blowing in Murano and the lace making in Burano 5) checking out the castle in Alcudia and the lighthouse Cap de Formentor, and 6) Stand up paddle-boarding in Santa Ponsa.

During the summer, at some point it hit me that people treat me like I didn’t have cancer. Which is a double-edged sword. On one side, I want to move on and forget that I had cancer. That would be the ultimate sign of moving on with my life. I want to feel, look, and be normal again. On the other side, I’ll never be able to forget. My body is changed: I’m not a strong as I once was, I can’t do all the things I once did, and I still have plenty of scars. I also can’t take each day for granted like I once did. I’m also significantly more emotional than I ever was. It makes it hard to move on. I’m still trying to move on, but it’s going to take a while.

Jim and I were talking on our trip to the Central Coast and I said, “Sometimes I feel like I never had cancer because I almost forget”. We continued this conversation and I told him that I couldn’t really blame others for forgetting that I had cancer when sometimes even I forget it. I’m also glad to be at a point in this journey to be able to (even if just momentarily) forget that I had cancer.

During my monthly massage in June, my masseuse took hold of my right arm (the chemo infiltration arm that is STILL swollen over one year later) and said to me, that my arm was mad at me for damaging it. It was hurt. And I should apologize to it. Some of you might think this is crazy, but back when I was preparing for surgery, I read a book called Prepare For Surgery, Heal Faster. In it, she recommends that you make peace with the part of you that is being operated on. So, I started apologizing to my breasts for being mad at them (this may sound familiar, as I’ve blogged about it before). For several weeks leading up to the surgery, I had a strange pain in my breast, where the tumor was. After apologizing to them and thanking them for fighting off the cancer, etc., the pain went away and has never come back. So, I figured apologizing to my right arm for harming it, couldn’t hurt. And since I’ve been doing that each night, both my masseuse and I have noticed a difference in the arm. Call it what you will, but I’m convinced that it worked.

There’s a new(ish) song out called Fight Song by Rachel Platten and it’s become my “Katie kicked cancer’s ass” Anthem. I know this is true for many cancer survivors. Whenever I hear it playing, I basically burst into tears. I think about one year ago going through chemo and barely being able to walk or do very basic tasks and how just a few weeks ago I was able to run for the first time in about 20 months or that I was able to bike to bay and back (~15 miles). Last year I felt like death and now my life is so vibrant. When I take the time to stop to think about it about, I nearly always cry.

Confession time: Looking back, I’m really sure that I should have had a blood transfusion. During every chemo cycle, the week after chemo, I felt very much like I would pass out, but so long as I stayed home and in bed, I was good. Once I got the picc line in and had to go to the doctor every week to get it cleaned, during that appointment (only on the fist week of the new chemo cycle) I always almost passed out. Twice they kept me longer to give me additional fluids, but the other times I just toughed it out because I REALLY didn’t want a blood transfusion. I tried to avoid letting on just how bad I felt so that the nurses wouldn’t admit me. Oh well, too late now.

While on vacation, my left foot started hurting (I broke it 14 years ago and it has never hurt like this since the cast has been off). It was quite strange because it basically hurt exactly where I broke it. At first I thought nothing of it, but it hurt again a few days later. Then I remembered at one of my follow up appointments with my oncologist, he said when cancer returns, it often returns to the blood, brain, lungs, and bones. So I freaked out a little and emailed the doctors office to get an appointment with a podiatrist as soon as we got back. I asked for an exam and x-ray to provide me with some peace of mind. While I didn’t really think the cancer had returned in my foot, I did freak out for a second in the doctor’s office while waiting for him to come and review the x-rays. What if the cancer had returned? Could I go through chemo again? What would my chances be this time? LUCKILY, I’m still #cancerfreehappyklb.

Also, oddly enough, the radiated skin has been very irritated lately. It’s been on and off, but for several weeks now, it feels like it might look red and irritated, but it isn’t. It just hurts. It doesn’t hurt all the time, just every few days or so. I told my doctor and he had me come in just to take a look. The nurse said that sometimes people get shingles where the skin was radiated, but luckily that’s not the case with me. They just said that it was fine and to keep on applying aloe and the calendula cream.

In July, I had an appointment with my plastic surgeon to discuss surgery. I had a whole bunch of questions for him. Most of them are about the more vain aspects of my reconstruction (like, can you make them any bigger? one is higher than the other, can you fix this? can you lipo the “side fat” that I was left with post surgery? etc. – answer to all of those questions is yes btw). After the appointment, I felt incredibly excited to have the surgery. My first thought was that I was excited because during/after surgery nothing is expected of me. I don’t have to work, cook, clean, take care of anyone. It sounds weird, but it’s really nice. My friend Liz pointed out to me that maybe I was excited because this is my last big hurdle to jump through. She’s right. After this I’ll be pretty much done. Also, I think I’m excited to have these expanders out. They are really uncomfortable. This leads me to my last tidbit of info for you. My reconstructive surgery has been scheduled for Wednesday October 7th at 12:30pm. (that is going to kill me by the way – fasting for twelve and a half hours is pure torture for me). I will be taking two weeks off from work. I anticipate being in the hospital one night and feeling much better much sooner (this is the “easy” surgery). I’m sure I’ll be up for visitors during my time off and help with meals would again be appreciated.

I feel like I’ve unloaded a lot off my shoulders. Thanks for listening!

As always, much love you to #teamklb

XOXOXO

Katie

I’ll leave you with something funny. In looking into nipple reconstruction, I’ve come across these “rub-on nipple tattoos” hehehehehehehe  http://www.prweb.com/releases/2014/09/prweb12201139.htm

Posted on

Cancerversary

Hi Team KLB,

Tomorrow marks the first anniversary of the day my whole world changed. I’ve been reliving the emotions that I felt leading up to my biopsy and diagnosis. Lately, I’ve also been thinking about those first few days and weeks post diagnosis and remembering just how hard it was. As of now, I feel slightly numb to how hard it was to process things in the beginning. Sometimes I talk about having Cancer like it was a cold. While I know it was nothing like that, I’m so used to it now, that’s it’s just my new normal.

I kept thinking about this is when “my life got flipped-turned upside down” which is also a small part of the lyrics to the theme song for the “Fresh Prince of Bel Air”. So, to mark this Cancerversary, I rewrote the lyrics to fresh prince to reflect how cancer “flipped-turned upside down” my life (with the help of my favorite musician :).

Here are my new song lyrics:

Queen of Team KLB

 

Now this is a story all about how

My life got flipped-turned up side down

And I’d like to take a minute

Just listen and see

I’ll tell you how I became Queen of Team KLB

 

In Silicon Valley, born and raised

In the classroom was where I spent most of my days,

Schoolin’ out, gradin’, teaching all cool,

Playin’ bralyball outside of school.

 

When a couple of lumps that were up to good,

started making trouble in my neighborhood.

I had one little test and my family got scared,

Dr. said, “You’ve got cancer, but let’s kick it out of here!”

 

Went through Chemo, lost all of my hair

Felt really weak, didn’t like lookin’ in the mirror

Doctors said, “tumor’s shrinkin’, yo’ almost there!”

And in end, I would say I was a survivor!

 

I pulled through surgery and by December 8,

I was remission, I told the cancer “see ya later!”

I looked at my life, CANCER FREE,

I put on my cape as Queen of Team KLB.

 

I hope you were able to sing along in your head and that you enjoyed it!

My hair is growing back and while I’m glad I have it and I’ll take this over no hair ANYDAY, I really hate it. Everyone says, “you’re hair looks great” or “I really love it” and one friend even said that I looked more beautiful with short hair because hair would just take away from the beauty of my face. (While that was a wonderful compliment, I used to have hair for the previous 30 years of my life and I never felt that way.) It’s not that I don’t appreciate the compliments, I truly do appreciate them, but I hate my hair the way it is and I am anxiously waiting for it to return to a more normal length and style. My hair is still my scarlet letter (as far as I’m concerned). It tells me and the world (but mostly me) every morning when I wake up “She had cancer”.

I’m still about three-four months out from my swap surgery. I’ll post more info about it after I talk with the plastic surgeon in July. I’ll be very happy to have real implants. I’ve heard that they are much more comfortable than my current expanders (because these are not comfortable – especially sleeping!).

Thanks for your continued love and support!

<3 Queen of Team KLB

Posted on

First Lumperversary

Team KLB!

Well today is my “lumperversary”. Over the next several months, there will be many significant days in my cancer journey. Be forewarned, I may be more emotional than normal.

One year ago, as I was getting ready for a long day of teaching and then night school, I touched my breast and felt the lump. I remember my heart started racing and then I sank to floor and cried. I felt both breasts all over to see if I was imagining it or if there were any others. I couldn’t feel any others, but it didn’t make the other one feel any less scary. Moments after, I called Jim at work and in tears, told him that I had found a lump in my breast. He asked some very investigative questions and then did his best to reassure me that I was going to be fine.

After I hung up the phone, I threw my deodorant away and then threw away all the plastic Tupperware. It may have been a slightly irrational act, but I still stand by the no plasticware and no chemical deodorant. I tried not to think about it throughout the day and to avoid crying, but it was inevitable. When I got to work, I called to get the first appointment available, which was the following Monday. During the day, Jim went into investigative mode, and sent me all sorts of articles to give me information about what it could possibly be.

A week later, Jim went with me to the appointment. My ob/gyn said she thought it was fine, it probably wasn’t cancer, it was likely a fibroadenoma (a cyst type of lump that grows with ones cycle over many years, common in women in their 20s). The lump felt like a oblong green grape. Very firm and oval shaped. She calmed my fears, but suggested that I get an ultrasound and a mammogram, just in case. I left feeling like it was going to be fine. My fear-o-meter was now on low.

The first available appointment for a mammogram and ultrasound was a week later and I had told Jim that he didn’t have to go with me to that appointment (I was feeling pretty confident). I had read that you could request to have the ultrasound first, and if they could be sure from the ultrasound that it wasn’t cancer, then you could avoid a mammogram, so that’s what I requested. They did the ultrasound and then had me meet with the radiologist. I remember walking into her office and seeing a box of tissues and thinking “why do they need tissues in here?” and then realizing, “oh, the tissues are for women that get told they have cancer”. The radiologist said that it did look like a fibroadenoma, but it had some irregular borders (I now know that’s because it was invasive and had spread to the surrounding breast tissue), so they wanted to do a biopsy to confirm. My fear-o-meter was now on medium.

Two and a half weeks after that, I went in for the biopsy. This was the most painful part of the whole process. They numbed the area (not well enough) and cut a small incision in the side of my breast and inserted a very large needle into the breast and also the lump (I later found out the needle was about the size of my pinky!). They used an ultrasound to guide the needle’s entry into the lump. After the doctor was done, the nurse put some skin glue on it and then applied a lot of pressure. I remember feeling like I was about to pass out while she was putting pressure on my breast. They gave me the world’s tiniest icepack to fit into my bra.

Over the next several days it was very painful and swollen. My right armpit (axillary lymph nodes) was swollen and in pain too. Fear-o-meter: on high. Up to this point, I really hadn’t told anyone except for Jim, my mom, and my brother. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk, it was that I knew that I was going to cry. Just the thought of talking about it with friends or family would get me tearing up. I didn’t want to have to tell people about it and be all emotional if it was going to turn out to be nothing. I honestly couldn’t wait until I could share with everyone that I had had a scare, but was in the clear. I was very anxiously waiting for the phone call from my doctor.

When I got the voicemail on June 3rd (Jim and I’s 13th dating anniversary), I thought about listening to it during the work day, but my gut told me to wait until the end of the day because if it was bad news, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to pull myself together enough to teach for the rest of the day, and then I would have to tell everyone. I listened to the voicemail after school and then called the doctor because the voicemail only asked that I call her back. The doctor picks up and says, “Katie, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but it’s cancer. My heart sunk. Surprisingly I didn’t cry on the phone. I hung up the phone and called Jim. The first words out of my mouth were “It’s cancer”. I couldn’t muster a “hi honey” or any pleasantries (I have since apologized for just dropping a bomb like that on him; he didn’t care about that at all.) Jim asked if we should still go out to dinner to celebrate our anniversary, I said yes. I knew I wouldn’t be able to celebrate as if things were normal, but I also didn’t know anything about the cancer I had. I thought this could be the last dating anniversary we celebrate, so yes, we’re still going out.

Next, I called my mom. She said, “how are you are you doing?” I shakily replied, “I’ve had better days.” She knew. I said, “it’s cancer.” She said she wanted to stop by on her way home from work to give me a hug. It was a pretty somber evening. When Jared and Amy were home, we went next door and I shared my bad news with them.

I knew that I still wasn’t up for calling friends and family and telling them about it, so I drafted an email and sent it out. I still remember every response that I got from friends and family. Each one made me cry. I was not ready to tell my coworkers yet, because I knew I would just lose it and not be able to pull myself together. We had three days left of school. I had report cards to do and promotion to get through. In my mind I needed to just get through the next few days. I was going to wait a little longer before “coming out”. Once I decided to share my news, I just needed to do it and get it off my chest (sorry, bad pun). Since I had known about this lump for 5 weeks, it was extremely hard not telling anyone. I felt that I was hiding a huge part of my life. I refer to this as my Cancer Coming Out. [I’m not trying to compare coming out of the closet to my struggle, but that’s what it felt like for me.] Side note: this Ted Talk about coming out does actually relate the two struggles. Great talk, highly recommended. https://youtu.be/kSR4xuU07sc

Well, there you have it, a recap of a very uneasy and scary time in my life, that began just one year ago. I’m glad to say the worst is behind me. I’m very much looking forward to all of it being behind me and soon enough it will be.

My love to you all,

Katie

Posted on

96% Done

Hi there #teamklb,

I have completed 24 of 25 days of radiation so far. I am 96% percent done and will finish tomorrow 3/16. I’m super excited to be finished with this final cancer killing step. First: poison, second: slash, and last: burn (thanks Lilani for that apt description). For the past week and a half, my skin has been IRRITATED. The physical radiation burn has my skin red and hot (no surprise there) and my underarm is really angry. No shaving for a little while, so I’ll be a bit stinky :-(.

My left breast (no cancer, no radiation in that breast) had a small red dot on it two weeks ago. I’m hyper vigilant now, so when it was still there the next morning, I called my plastic surgeon. They had me come in that day just to check. He said to me, “was it your bra?” I almost laughed. First, I don’t need to wear a bra, so why would I? For the first time in about 20 years I haven’t needed a bra, so I’m NOT wearing a bra. Second, I’m going through radiation and therefore I’m avoiding all things that would irritate my skin any further. Third, I would have thought of that, I’m not your average idiot patient. The  plastic surgeon said it would be extremely unlikely for cancer to regrow in the skin of the non-cancer breast. He said to watch it and he would check on it during my regularly scheduled post radiation appointment at the end of the month. He asked for my surgeon to be available at that time as well in case they need to biopsy it (not an exciting prospect, as the initial biopsy was one of the more painful part of this whole cancer bullshit). He also suggested that I have my radiation oncologist look at it during our weekly appointment. He looked at it this week and thought it was nothing to be concerned about (it was almost gone by the time I saw him). So it appears it was just a skin lesion. Phew.

There was a woman in my Living Strong Living Well class that just recently lost her battle to lymphoma. On our first session we simply went around the room and introduced ourselves. I thought, I’m good, I’m not going to cry when say my name, my kind of cancer, and what I value about myself. I was good. Until Paulina spoke. She was fairly young, probably near 40. She said that she had lymphoma and was looking for a bone marrow transplant, but wasn’t having any luck finding someone. That’s when I remembered that I was lucky to have had Breast Cancer (sounds weird, I know) and that’s when it got me. She continued talking and mentioned that she used to be Zumba instructor. That really got me. When I was diagnosed, most people mentioned something about the fact that they couldn’t believe I had gotten Cancer because I was so healthy. Clearly Paulina was a really healthy and active person too. Cancer doesn’t discriminate. Then it was my turn and of course, the composure that I had, was gone. I quickly took my turn and through a choked up voice said that I valued my positive attitude (…irony…). We didn’t see Paulina too much through the weeks of the living strong living well classes. But she was undergoing treatment still, so people have missed classes here and there. I didn’t think too much of it. Then on Monday, our trainers informed us of her passing, and said it was a few weeks prior. That was the last time that I remember seeing her, was a few weeks ago. It hit me harder than expected, since I really didn’t know her. That night I made a donation in her name to the leukemia and lymphoma society. It got me thinking, when she signed up for this class, I’m sure she didn’t know that she would be dying part way through the class. I’m sure that, like me, she thought that this would be a good way to regain the strength that she lost during cancer treatment. I can’t imagine what those last weeks were like for her and her family. And although I don’t know her family, I’m sending healing thoughts and love their way.

This has also got me thinking about those first dark days after my diagnosis. Before I knew exactly what I was dealing with (stage, whether it had spread, how long I had to live, etc.) I had decided in my mind what I would do if the news wasn’t so great (lucky for me I got significantly better news). Many of you know of my goal to see all fifty states before I turn fifty. Well, I decided that if I was going to die soon, I was going to sell off all my stocks and cash in my investments, and Jim and I were going to road trip across the country so that I could see all fifty states before I died. Obviously we didn’t need take that plan of action. I’m very thankful for that.

I’ve been back to work for the past three weeks now, still working 50% (from 7:45-11:30 every day). It has been, well, a lot of things. 1) Great. I’ve enjoyed working again and I like my class a lot. It was supposed to be a year a challenging behaviors, but some of those kids have moved. Not going to lie: super stoked about that. I like staying busy and teaching and so that part has been really great. 2) Exhausting. I go straight from work to radiation and then come home and nearly always take a nap or rest. In hindsight, I probably should have stayed out through radiation (Jim is enjoying telling me that he told me so). My Breast Cancer friend, Liz, says that’s it’s kind of strange because even though it doesn’t seem like you’re doing much to your body when you are going through radiation, you really are. Liz is very wise. 3) Very strange. It’s kind of like I’ve been in a time warp for the past 8 1/2 months. I know the world carried on without me, but no place is it more apparent than at work. In some cases, like the garden club, it just continued right along (yay!). In other cases, like volleyball, it wasn’t going to happen if I didn’t come back right at this time. No blame or judgement, it’s just an observation and a twilight zone kind of feeling. All these things that happened while I wasn’t around and normally I am around for all of it, it just feels strange. 4) Challenging. While my long term sub did the best he could, and I appreciate him very much, he had to start the year off for me without knowing how I normally do things. In a more perfect world, a long term sub takes over the year for you when you already have your procedures and routines in place. Then the kids can help out by letting him or her know how you do things and the structures are already in place. So having to reteach all of this and sort of undo things is frustrating because I would like to be teaching. 5) Appreciated. Everyone has been so kind and caring in welcoming me back. My Braly family really is the best.

I’m still going to my Nutrition school and in the past few classes, cancer has been covered. This has me thinking about the causes of my cancer even more. Here are my main thoughts: Obviously the BRCA1 mutation puts me at a huge risk for Breast Cancer. The gene is on my fathers side of the family (he was one of 11 and there are tons of cousins, the exact number I’m not sure of). I’m the youngest grandchild on that side, so for me to be the first person to find that gene, makes me think that other lifestyle factors caused the cancer to happen so early in my life.

From 8/2013-12/2013 I was taking Hormone Replacement Therapy. (Backstory: my migraines happen much more frequently during my menstrual cycle, like everyday, so they are clearly tied to the fluctuations in my hormones, so my neurologist had me wearing a hormone patch during the week of my period for that time frame). The estrogen in the patch, estradiol, is linked to Breast cancer (straight from my lectures in school). Even though my cancer was hormone negative, I believe there is still a link.

I was also on the birth control pill for the better part of a decade. One in eight women get breast cancer in our society and how many of them have been on birth control for lengthy periods of time? If I were to have a daughter, I would not want her to take birth control ever. Wrap it up. I know, it feels different, but so does cancer. My point being that prescriptions have side effects and the FDA isn’t looking out for us. Big pharma creates a drug and then designs a study to prove its effectiveness and safety to submit to the FDA. Does that seem backwards to anyone else? I sure hope so.

Moving along. Antibiotics. How many courses of antibiotics have you been on in your lifetime? If you’re like me, it’s more than you can count. If you’re like my friend Sarah, it is one time, in her wholelife. (That really got me questioning the amount of antibiotics that I’ve been on.) I’ve been on them at least once or twice per year since I was about 18. Also, when I was 17ish I went to my dermatologist for acne. She put me on amoxicillin. I was on it for well over a year, but I think it was more than two years. I literally wiped out the colony of bacteria in my digestive system. That colony of bacteria is your first line of defense for everything. I’m not saying antibiotics caused my cancer, but I do think they contributed to my body’s inability to fight the cancer. Obviously, these are my opinions and I’m not a doctor. Duh. But my point is that I think western medicine and doctors played a large role in my cancer.

If I could go back and change my actions to avoid getting cancer, I would do it in a heartbeat. I can’t do that, but maybe I can influence you to think twice before doing some of these things too. [steps off soapbox]

Since my birthday is on Wednesday and I finish cancer treatment on Monday, I will be in a very celebratory mood this week. Just nine months ago, this is a birthday that I wasn’t sure I would get to celebrate. I’m pretty stoked that I get a thirty-second year of life. Feel free to wear pink tomorrow on the last day of radiation.

XOXOXO,

Katie

Posted on

Back to work after 8.5 months off…

Hi there #teamklb!

I hope you are all well. I am doing well and feeling well.

I have completed nine of 25 days of radiation so far. I will be finished on March 16th, just two days before my 32nd birthday. I will be very happy to be finished before my birthday. So far, radiation is going well. Not much skin irritation or feelings of exhaustion. (Although I am more tired lately but I’ve been quite busy planning a surprise party for Jim – it was yesterday and boy, was it fucking awesome!- I’ll add more party details here soon) Occasionally, I’ll feel a bit more pain in the area that’s being radiated – the right breast, but it’s pretty infrequent. It is a cumulative process, so I imagine things will start catching up with me soon.

I start work tomorrow! (YIKES!) I’ve had a slough of mixed emotions about it over the past few days, but most of them are positive. I met with my long term sub last week and we discussed the transition back into the classroom. I’ll be working from 8:00-11:30 each day and he’ll be teaching in the afternoon. This will allow me to slowly ease into things and continue my radiation. My radiation appointments are literally less than a quarter mile from my work, so that makes it easy. After that, I’ll have a bit of time to rest in the afternoons. I’m looking forward to getting back into my pre-cancer life.

I hope to bring to the classroom an environment that encourages kids to take care of one another and focus on compassion and support for each other. As a kid, I remember thinking that it was really important to be smart (THE most important thing, in fact). My Uncle Bob and I had a conversation about which Disney character was better, I said Mickey because he was smart, while he thought Goofy because he was nice. I very vividly remember this conversation, sitting on the davenport (any non-Essenmachers know what that is? The sofa!) in my grandparents living room. This conversation has always stayed with me, and until becoming a teacher, my answer remained the same. But I now know that being kind is a much more important character trait. From my experience, you can’t teach adults to be nice, but you can teach them new things. All of that to say, my classroom will be one that fosters kindness, caring, and support for all students. This is not to say that I never cared about fostering these things before, it has always been important to me, but it is so hard with all the standards and all the students to always make it a priority. But we only get one life, and I want to make sure that my influence on the students is through a learning environment that supports kindness, caring, and support. Although, I will really miss hanging out with the Roxbury dog pack everyday.

Many of you know that the BRCA1 genetic mutation that I have also increases my risk for Melanoma, the deadliest of skin cancers. (Thanks to the doctors office pamphlet for that little tidbit of fear-inducing information.) I had my annual mole check the second week of February and the doctor decided she wanted to biopsy a mole on my back just in case. Those four days of waiting we’re pretty tough. Jim says he knew it would be fine, but I no longer feel that way about any test results. Luckily, it did come back negative and we’re all good.

The PSA for the day is that you should be doing mole self checks (for me she suggested monthly) and be going to get your skin checked by your doctor as needed. I’ve said this many times during my cancer treatment, but cancer has taught me that life is for living. Not to put things off or think, maybe next year I’ll do that thing that’s I’ve always wanted to do. Nobody has the luxury of time, none of us know our futures. If you want something important in your life, make it happen.

Thanks for your continued love and support! I’ll continue keeping you updated. Lots of love!

Xoxo,

Katie