The Promise, The Passion, The Pain.

My BigBro said something to me earlier this week that hit me as interesting. First, let me back up a bit.

It all started, for me, on a sunny spring day back in April 2003. Blueberry and I were making plans to move into separate apartments. We had been living together on and off for several years. And it was time, again, for me to move into my own place. I'm still not convinced it was something Blue wanted and I doubt I'll ever know. Still, I was ready to move on.

I was at work, jotting down notes of things to remember to do for the move when my phone rang. It was Blueberry. She was trying with all her might to compose herself and keep herself together. I knew instantly something was terribly wrong. She managed to blubber out, "It's ba...ba...bad." I knew then that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

To say my life changed that day means nothing compared to how Blueberry's life changed that day. Everything she loved about life, knew about life, etc was about to be tossed in the air with a strong breeze of hope. Nothing would be the same again.

I sat stunned and scared and worried in my office chair. I just didn't know what to do. All these questions formulated to the top of my mind, and just bounced around up there with no place to fall.

Somehow I made it home, I ran up to the apt we shared. Blue wanted so badly to not move now, but nothing could be done to stop the forward rolling ball that was a move in an apt complex. Comforting her as best I could we sat and discussed our options for moving or not. I knew full well that not moving wasn't an option, but I let her discuss it anyhow. The reality was we were moving to two different apartments in the same building, and I would be just a phone call away.

I find it somewhat amusing now thinking about how much energy we used that day on the apt move instead of discussing the large elephant in the room. Cancer was scary. Cancer was something that happened to older people. Cancer was not something either of us ever thought would enter our lives in our mid-thirties. It just didn't happen to people our age.

The next several months are a blur. I became the communication and planning hub for Blue's life. I coordinated visits, I coordinated who would be taking her to her dr. visits, I coordinated dinners, and everything I could think of to alleviate some of her stress. I knew then I'd have to push myself away if I were to survive this. Sounds selfish to say it out loud, but I knew if I couldn't keep it together then it would be worse for Blue.

I've had 7 years to reflect on that year. That horribly sad, exhausting year. I came to realize I harbored an anger toward Blue that I hadn't realized. I was mad at her for almost dying. Logically I knew it wasn't her fault...but still the feeling was there. And as I recounted how I felt through the process, I realized that co-survivors sometimes suffer just as much. I realized that I could be okay with my feelings of sadness, anger, frustration, fear, and grief. That dealing with a cancer diagnosis was a change, and dealing with change was often like dealing with grief. The same emotions one goes through when someone dies, we go through when a significant change is upon us.

It was about 4 years after that I knew I could make a difference. I knew I could take my experience as a co-survivor (side not: please don't think for one minute that I believe my experience was in any way, shape, or form worse than what Blue went through. God knows I couldn't even compare the two. ) and make this world a better place somehow.

So I started making Breast Cancer Awareness my passion. My goal in life was to help spread the word. I'd never be the Susan G. Komen story of promise, but I knew that my voice could be heard and sitting on the sidelines wasn't going to help. I hopped on board the Breast Cancer train and started blowing the whistle.

In my years that followed making pink my passion, I decided to participate in the Breast Cancer 3Day. That decision, turns out, would once again change my life.

I encountered some tremendous people being a part of this community. I've felt love from strangers like I've never felt love before. The warm opening arms of the 3Day breast cancer community is something I cannot even begin to explain.

Our family began to evangelize the breast cancer movement. Fund raising for a cause we all fully and whole heartedly believed in. And it was during this fund raising I encountered negativity. It took my breath away the first time one of my close friends said they wouldn't support us because there was already a cure for cancer. And that little gem we encountered on a regular basis. As much love and warmth I found from this group, we encountered the negative nancies.

What my brother said to me today, which prompted this post was, "Those Wraspir's are just talking breast cancer again.....blah blah blah.............." and it got me wondering if people really think that. Then I thought, who cares? I'm glad they’re saying it. That means we're making an impact somewhere. If us talking breast cancer so much can change just one Negative Nancy's feeling toward the killer, then it will be all worth it.

Truth be told, I don't want to EVER have to live through a diagnosis of breast cancer again. But the staggering statistic of 1 in 8 women means that I will. I know that all our hard work fund raising will pay off as I know they are making advancements in early detection and better treatments.