My second
race was a much different experience than my first. I wrote in my journal about how it was
organized much better, I got better goodies in my race packet, and I had a real
timing chip on my bib. And I loved (and
it’s still my favorite one) the shirt I got.
Feeling a bit more confident about this race, having done one already,
and thinking I knew how these things work now, I went into it hoping for an
even better time than my first. True,
placing 27/70 in my division on the first race wasn’t too shabby, but I knew I
could do better.
There were
tons of people at this race, the American Fork Canyon half marathon and
5k. The reason being, the proceeds all
went towards helping families trying to pay medical bills from cancer
treatments and care. When I signed up
for this race, I didn’t have a special story to share. I haven’t lost anyone really close to me from
cancer, specifically, although some family members have had various forms. However, in December 2009, I went in to the Dermatologist
(after rescheduling 3 times- it’s so hard to get in to see one of those guys)
to have him check this bump on my forehead that looked like a pimple, but
wouldn’t pop. I’d had it for almost a
year and knew something wasn’t right.
He took a
look at it with a special magnifying glass-looking thing. And after only a few seconds, handed me the
news, I’m pretty sure that’s cancer. He
took a biopsy to confirm, which confirmed basal cell carcinoma. Although this is the least dangerous kind,
they still needed to go in and surgically remove the cancer. At this point in my life, I’d just taken the
GRE and was trying to get into grad school.
I’d been divorced two years. My
ex-husband was about to get divorced from his second wife, and the events
leading up to this had created a lot of stress for everyone involved. I’d just changed jobs and was about to be
in-between insurance plans. And I was,
for the hundredth time, trying to not fall in love with Don Queco (without a
lot of success).
On the one
hand, my heart dropped when the doctor told me the news, and my mind started
racing- wondering what it would be like.
On the other hand, for as long as I could remember, I always had this
feeling I’d someday have some kind of cancer.
So I wrote in my journal that I wasn’t that shocked or worried, because
I’d had a feeling this would happen someday.
I even wrote, “I think Heavenly Father’s been preparing me for quite a
few years now. And it still wouldn’t
surprise me if I got breast or uterine cancer down the road. So amazingly I’m not that worried or
stressed.”
 |
| First stitches Dec 2009 |
I went in
three days before Christmas to have them remove the cancer. It was right at my hair line. It was painful and scary. They removed a nice chunk of skin on my
forehead, put a bandage over the area, and froze the removed section to see if
they’d gotten it all. It was very
difficult sitting there wondering if they’d have to take more of my face off. They didn’t get it all the first time, so the
doctor had to remove the bandage and cut some more off. That time was successful, thank
goodness. While they were trying to
stitch me up, we learned my body burns off numbing agents very quickly (which
makes sense since trips to the dentist had never been pleasant-the Novocain
always wore off in record time). The
numbing shots were almost as painful as the stitches, though not as nasty
smelling as them cauterizing one side that refused to stop bleeding. Not having any vacation time at my new job
yet, I had to go to work afterwards, bandaged and all. By the time I left work, I was in so much
pain, I’m amazed I drove home okay. Some
neighbors graciously brought over dinner and helped the kids bathe and get to
bed while I moaned and cried in pain on the couch. That Tylenol couldn’t kick in fast enough!
 |
| Christmas Day 2009 |
All the
pictures around Christmas that year never saw the light of Facebook. The swelling slowly moved down my face,
swelling my forehead in time for Christmas day, then a week or so later turning the area around my eye a hideous blue/black/purple and eventually
green. Because of where they removed
skin and pulled it together again afterwards, an age line I was getting across
my forehead now peaked and went up oddly on that side of my face. Needless to say, my experience with cancer,
while not as painful and tragic as many stories out there, was still difficult
for me.
 |
| Emotion got the best of me (far left) |
So
standing at the starting line for the race that day, I was thinking about that
experience. The announcer shouted just
before starting time that with everyone’s registration, they’d raised $70,000
for those struggling to pay their medical bills. Tears came to my eyes as I realized that this
race was about a lot more than just my getting a new PR, a cool race shirt, or
a real-life timing chip. This was about
helping others in my community. I’d been
on the receiving end myself so many times as a single mom. And the feeling of being able to give to
someone else was almost too much.
Feeling embarrassed at my emotion, I focused on getting ready for the
race and took off when that horn blasted.
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