Merry Christmas!

Wishing you all a beautiful Christmas... no matter where you are in your hair growth!

Let's go on with the show

First off, I would like to thank my dad for the beautiful letter he wrote for the blog. From the beginning of this unexpected journey I said that only good and love were going to come from this and, as you can read, that is true.

Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone who has written me in the last month. Since returning to work I haven't had as much time to respond to your each of your notes in a timely manner. Please know that you are in my thoughts and I will write you soon.

Thirdly, I'd like to thank the person who has sent me the mystery subscription to "Glamour" magazine. Each month I have been keeping up on the lastest fashion and make-up trends and doing my darndest to keep off the "Glamour Don't" pages.

And last but never least, I'd like to thank Janis for writing the last post for me. We've both had challenging weeks with the news and her willingness to step in has been most appreciated.

I didn't feel I was in a place to write as I've been going through some of stages of grief I had not yet passed through on this journey. The news of the last couple weeks has made for brief lay-overs in Sadness and Anger. They're not bad places to visit though the people are a little remote and the food is a bit bland, but I sure wouldn't want to live there.

Two weeks ago I had a whopper of a Thursday. The results of a baseline CT scan showed two unidentified spots, one on my lung and one on my liver, as well as an ovarian cyst. What the heck?! It was supposed to be a baseline and everyone knows that baseline means clear! At least, that was what I thought. Of course, baseline means where you're at right then but in my mind it meant we would just be seeing cool pictures of my heart and lungs.

And, just prior to that appointment, I'd found out that I fall into the category of 'high risk for recurrence'. What the heck, I say? What the heck?! That is not what I wanted to nor was ready to hear. I've done everything I've been told to do- how could that be high risk? Unfortunately, having eleven of twenty-one nodes involved is too many to fall into a lower risk category.

It has been a lot to process. Nothing about my life is high risk so why should this cancer be? I might just have to take up extreme sports to show this cancer who's the boss... ooh... hmmm, sports... that's never been my gig. Extreme vocals or theatrics would suit my strengths better. Oh yeah, here we go: with the help of my theatrical friends I could do a performance art piece that would leave this cancer begging for an intermission! And that never happens in performance art.

So, that news coupled with the spots on my lung and liver- two of the three places breast cancer likes to migrate to- was too much to take in for one day. In case anyone is wondering, yes, you can still get radiation treatment while you're crying. The radiation beam is so focused that it's not like standing in an electrical storm with an umbrella or golf club.

At this point in time my radiologist said he's not concerned about the spot on my lung as half the people in the Midwest, if they had a scan, would have a spot on their lung. Why, you ask? Because, as my dear friend Renee's family was fond of saying, there's a fungus among us! Up here on the the tundra there's a fungus that causes scar tissue to form, unbeknownst to those of us who live here, until we have a scan.

He also said that the spot on my liver looks, because of its color, benign. Both of these spots are so small that there is no other test that can be done to determine exactly what they are so, in three months, I will have another CT scan to monitor their progress. You can imagine that, adding to the breast scans that I will have regularly for the next five-plus years, another test every three months is not really high on my list of 'things to do'.

The one thing we were able to run another test for was the ovarian cyst. Two weeks ago I had an ultrasound which Jan and I found out that Thursday was inconclusive. So, to follow up that very afternoon they sent me for an abdominal MRI. Janis came back with me again the next day for those results which were also inconclusive.

At this point I'm feeling like I must be from Mars, or at least the cyst is from Mars, because they cannot identify it. What do you mean it can't be identified? All three three types of imaging that can be taken- CT, ultrasound and MRI- have been done and none of those can help identify it? Please repeat with me: What the heck?!

It seems to me that we're playing that child's card game where you keep looking for the sets: the guy with the beard and hat, the grandma with the glasses and bonnet, the kid with the freckles and beanie. Only in this deck it's all different kinds of cysts and mine doesn't have a match. Oh, who likes this stupid game anyway?!!

I say that because next the option to get the best look at it is to do it the old-fashioned way: to remove it. Where is Doctor Spock when you need him?! We've come to discover that ovaries aren't biopsied (you wouldn't want a trail of unidentified cells out and floating about freely in your abdomen), they're taken out. So that, potentially, mean another surgery when I'm done with radiation.

For those of you keeping up with the hair front, it is indeed growing back. In the two months since the last chemo treatment I have grown a downy soft three-quarters of an inch which thickly covers my head. People who see it comment on its unexpected shimmery fawn color as well as the lovely shape of my head. We'll try to get a photo up here soon so you can all see for yourselves.

It continues to be an unexpected journey, this. And though at times my strength has diminished, my faith in the process has wavered and my trust is nowhere to be found I am continually astonished that offered, again and again, are reminders that my friends and family have strength, faith and trust enough to carry us through.

I hope in this season of hope and joy that you're able to find the peace that it offers as well. Wishing you a beautiful holiday-

Love, Karen

Proof Positive

From the beginning of this unplanned journey, Karen has said “Only good can come from this.” Prior to the surgery it seemed entirely plausible too. But there have been days since when it has been more challenging to believe this. Karen was having one of these days on Thursday when she asked me to write a blog entry this weekend. “I am not in the frame of mind to do it myself right now,” she said. Admittedly, I understood that frame of mind too, but I would do whatever I could to help my sister wage this war.

So I sat down this evening to write. I went to re-read Karen’s last post, but noticed instead that yesterday Dad quietly posted a comment to that post andI began reading there instead. By the time I reached the end, I knew who would be authoring this entry and once again had proof that “Only good can come from this.”

Anonymous said... December 07, 2007 4:00 PM

Hovering is not lurking. When one hovers, he holds the very large blanket of love. This very large blanket covers multitudes of people who come from all areas of the country. The blanket is heavy as well as being large. The blanket must continually be moved to ensure that it fully covers my beautiful daughter. This daughter is Karen Lynn Kelley. She is absolutely the best. This is a very proud parent, her father, who will give a glowing account of the journey.

A dad, a father, is a person who loves his family, especially his children. As a father, I have a very special spot for my girls. Girls represent many things that are the opposite of myself; i.e., soft, sweet, tender, dainty, pretty, good smelling, energetic, smart and lovable. I have come to gain a new and beautiful understanding of my daughter Karen. This new vision has opened my eyes to a side of Karen that I had failed to recognize. She has always had a smile that could light up a room and melt a glacier. This I know. What I am now realizing is that she has great strength, amazing in quantity and endurance. How could I not have known? I watched her grow and mature and yet my eyes must have been covered. Now I am able to see much better because I have taken the time to really listen and observe.

This awesome Karen knows how to always give her best. Never anything less that 110 per cent in all activities she undertakes. I watched her in the leading role in "The King and I" and it was amazing and beautiful....the pride and admiration was really there for me and so many others. Proof positive of ability combined with 110 per cent professional performance. This is the way she goes about life.

Another attribute that had come to my attention recently is Karen's unending concern for others. She will always ask friends how they are doing, what is going on in their lives and when they speak, she listens so intently and with much empathy. She always offers positive advice on situations presented to her by friends and family.

Karen has many talents. I did not know that she was such a good writer. I read the blog entries and am really impressed with her ability to put her thoughts into words. Awesome, just awesome! But this is only one area of her expertise. Karen is not the type of person to show up anyone else. In fact, she downplays her own talents. This is her style, and boy do I admire her for doing it "her way"! Karen has a certain way in dealing with people that elevates that person and brings out the very best in that person. Only positive people can elicit such responses in others.

And what about the strength of the bond between Karen and her sister, Janis. These two women contain so many skills, techniques, wisdom and respect that it is difficult to hide my pride in this pair of children. These daughters form a pair which is best described as inseparable. When watching them solve problems or order a basket or box of vegetables, it becomes very evident that this bond is the real thing. Nothing could make a father prouder or happier than to see how successful your daughters have become. Here is that pride again, justified, I'm sure.

Friends are so important and so priceless. All Karen's friends help in so many ways. Each friend helps me move that very large blanket of love around. You know who we are showering with love.

As we move forward on this journey, we have a lot to be thankful for: THE PLAN...it is the very best and it will be successful. THE MEDICAL TEAM...all of them are the very best. THE FAMILY...John, Margaret, Karen, Janis, Kyle all on the same page, all with a single goal in mind. We can do this! Who always uses this ditty and who first coined it---I guess you know! Karen. Her strength and commitment are unwavering. I never, ever knew about this side of her. She makes others around her so much stronger. She never gives less than her best and always brings out the best in anyone around her.

The voice of the family, friends and caring others in one loud, solid voice all say "we will kick this dirty little tumor into oblivion". Having the attitude that we will not let up until we prevail is the overpowering thought process that guarantees the best outcome.

Karen, you know where I stand, and with me are many, many others who so admire you and your strength and courage. Be assured you and I, we, will prevail and succeed.

With great love and admiration,

Your dad,

John Kelley