The Pink Bear

Hello Friends,

It's been awhile. I hope that this finds everyone well and happy.

First, let me tell you about the 'Pink Bear' that will you find associated with Web Mastery 101. As you all may know, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. In honor of this, The Teddy Bear, owner and CEO of Web Mastery 101, has changed the color of the Bear to Pink to honor of those who have fought this beast and won; and in Memory of those that didn't win their battle. As the newest member of the staff of Web Mastery 101, I want to say a big "Thank You" to the Teddy Bear for caring enough to remember all of us who have struggled with this monster. It means a lot!! This is a fight that no one wants to have to struggle with. Trust me, it is no fun. Cancer is a bitch, and it hard to kill.

My struggle began in 1990. This is going to be hard to write.

I was in school full time, working full time, raising a young man who was in his second year of a 5-year college program. We had just lost my Mom to an 18-month battle of the Beast, and we lost. I held her in my arms as she breathed her last breath. This was not the time to have to tell my family that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer. So, I didn't. I was trying to hold a family together that was torn and bleeding from the loss of their Matriarch. This just was not the time to level another blow on them.

I weighed all my options, had the surgery to remove a 'benign' cyst and get on with life. What wasn't known was that the cyst was a 'mass' that was cancerous and that I would have to undergo further treatment for. I kept this secret until it became apparent that something was indeed wrong, and that I was very sick.

I continued my normal course of school, work, visiting college at least twice a month, and usually more to be with my son. I continued to care for my Dad, as he was lost without Mama, and pull my brother through the loss of our Mother. This was probably one of the hardest times of my life.

The fateful call on Christmas Eve, just before we were preparing for a Christmas that was missing a very important player, Mama. From that day on throughout the next 14 months, I was numb and blind to anything around me. I was on auto-pilot. Chemo and radiation began in March 1991. The next 11 months were a living hell.

I carried on as normal as I possibly could and tried to stay positive and upbeat for all those around me. This was a tall order to fill. But up until July 1991, I pulled it off pretty well.

I had begun to lose weight, my hair thinned and changed colors, my complexion became hallow and pallor in color. My body was taking a beating. I was making deals with God, Satan, the Cancer, and any other entity that I could make a deal with, for just another week or another day. And there were days when I just wanted to scream for the Cancer Beast to take me away and get it over with. To end my suffering and pain, to not let me have to tell my family that I was leaving them too. I made every deal imaginable. I tried anything that anyone told me would help or make a difference. But Cancer has its own way of leveling the playing field against you. I was slowly losing my battle. The truth was going to come out and my family and friends were going to be devastated. What was I going to do?

In late July, after a 16-hour day of school, work, and my family obligations, I walked into my house and promptly fell in the floor. This was a surprise to everyone. But, they knew that something was terribly wrong, they just didn't know what. This day was the day of comeuppance and honesty with my family. They had to be told and I needed to stop the pretense and get some help and support. It was so hard on them. It had all been so hard on me.

After this day, I spent some time in the hospital and a lot of down time while continuing to fight the Beast. It was a bit easier now, however. I could drop the facade and concentrate on getting better. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into another few months. It was a rough ride, it had been a very rough ride.

My family rallied around me and together we made it through the battle and I WON!! I could not believe that I was winning this fight!! Was it possible to beat this monster at its own game?!?! I am here talking to you today, so it was possible. I am thankful that I was spared and lived to tell my story. There were so many that were not as lucky I was.

I have had 2 scares since 1991 and I make sure to have my 6 month checkups and my 3 month mammograms and hold my breath until its over. Except for the 2 near-misses, I have remained breast cancer free.

I am a Survivor. This probably explains the fact that almost all my belongings are pink in nature or color. I am never far from the fact that I am at great risk every day. It is only by the Grace of God, some very good doctors, and the love and support of wonderful friends and an AWESOME loving family, that I am here today.

I stand in awe and utter respect of all the Survivors out there that have fought and beaten this monster. I mourn for all those that have lost the battle and the loved ones they left behind. I am so, so sorry.

Let's all be mindful, especially this month, to give some love to all those effected by this disease. Get your check-ups. MEN and women. Breast Cancer does not discriminate. Men are just as susceptible as women, You just don't hear about it as much. That is something that I hope will change in time to come. Cancer is an equal-opportunity employer. Stay in front of the Beast.

Thanks for taking the time to read this and thanks for the Pink Bear.

Tammi

As always, your likes, dislikes, and comments are welcome below...