I am so blessed that my life has been so good, so busy making memories, that it has been a whole five months since I last wrote. The start of the new school year until today feels like a blur, but with so many specific memories sprinkled in. We soaked in every bit of fall with apple and pumpkin picking, trips to farms, cups of apple cider, and jack-o-lantern carving. The girls decided on Snow White (Livvy) and The Evil Queen (Emilia) as their Halloween costumes. Thanksgiving was a quiet day spent at home full of cooking and quality family time. In late November, we packed up the car and headed to Newport, RI for sightseeing, seafood and to tour the Mansions decorated for the holidays. A little escape and change of scenery was just what was needed ahead of the busy holiday season to come. 

Christmas felt like it lasted a year, but also flew by in a day. As a mom, you are determined to make the season as magical as you can for your children, but when it is uncertain if it is your last Christmas to celebrate, you can’t help but want to make it all the more magical. Emilia wrote a letter to Santa asking for a Barbie dream house, a Barbie pool, Hungry Hungry Hippos, and make-up for her two year old sister, who insisted that was all she wanted from Santa. We met and took pictures with Santa, dressed in festive clothes all month long and went to a fun holiday event for kids at our church. Both girls helped to decorate our Christmas tree and Emilia helped with the lights outside. Christmas Eve was spent with family at Nonna and Papa’s with more presents than any little girl can dream of and on Christmas morning the girls found that Santa delivered all they had asked for and then some. Christmas Day was spent with more family and more presents. For the New Year, we toasted with champagne flutes of sparkling apple cider and fell asleep way before the ball drop. 

Before, after, and in between the holidays we kept busy and were having fun at swim lessons, trips to the aquarium, the Museum of Natural History and celebrating birthdays with friends and family. 

January, like for so many of us, was the longest month ever. It was cold, it was snowy and I often found myself having difficulty processing the never ending news cycle. I am so glad my girls offer the best kind of distraction with their unmatched energy, soccer practices, swim lessons, birthday parties and infinite hours of playing Barbies. 

And of course, somehow in between everything above, I had treatment bi-weekly, an endless number of physical therapy visits and a CT scan the day after Thanksgiving that showed my cancer is stable. While good news, it left me feeling defeated. My previous scan had shown such a large decrease in the size of the liver tumors that I was hoping for more of the same. But once again my doctor reassured me that cancer control, that stability, is something to be thankful for as well. My labs are great, I feel great, and the cancer is under control.

As we begin February I can’t help but want to freeze time. Today is my 60th cancer treatment and February 8th will be 2.5 years since my diagnosis with stage IV terminal cancer. It is an absolute miracle to say I have lived that long and not just lived, but truly thrived. Not everyone who lives with cancer has the quality of life I have enjoyed. I have had so many more good days than bad and have had the opportunity to make countless memories along the way. I really am blessed. 

BUT, being half way to 5 years is scary, anxiety provoking to the extreme. Updated statistics released last month revealed the five year survival rate for pancreatic cancer remains at just 13%. When you zero in on the five year survival rate for those with stage IV pancreatic cancer, that statistic drops to something like 3%. Three percent. And I’ve used up half of my five years. 

But as my mind wanders to some of the scariest places it has ever gone, I breathe deeply and bring myself back to the present and remind myself of something I said early on in my journey, that statistics are backwards looking and do not predict your future. I remind myself that I am well, that my treatment is working, and that while it can stop working at any moment (queue anxiety), there are a few other treatment options waiting in the wings for me. I have not yet hit a dead end. I have not been told that there is nothing more that can be done for me (like JFK’s granddaughter, Tatiana, whose story really hit home for me. How can someone with so much wealth, and access to arguably better care than me, run out of options? Cancer doesn’t discriminate). I have found that living my life is the best medicine and that is exactly what I will continue to do for the next 2.5 years and beyond.