I Miss You, I Love You, and I Hate February 25th

Dear Ann,

It is February 24th.  Oh no, it is February 24th.  That means tomorrow is February 25th, the Worst Day.  Can’t we just skip from February 24th to February 26th?  Can we just not have February 25th at all?  Or better yet, can you, by some wonderful-crazy-magic-scientific miracle be returned back to us, healthy and alive?  I swear I wouldn’t ask questions, wouldn’t wonder if I’d officially gone off the deep end-I would just be eternally and overwhelmingly grateful to have you back, to have my best friend alive and healthy.

It’s always the day before the Worst Day that the anxiety comes.  The fear.  The dread.  The absolute sick-to-my-stomach feeling of sheer panic.  I find myself thinking the same things and asking the same questions:

“What do I do?”

“Wait, there has to be some way to fix you, right?”

“No, no, no, no, no.. please no.”

I have all this tense, nervous energy.  This overwhelming need to DO SOMETHING, as if somehow worrying enough about you will change what tomorrow is and what tomorrow means.. as if somehow there’s the tiniest possibility that I will wake up tomorrow and you wont be dead anymore.. as if somehow I can change the unchangeable or will you back to life.  It is like reliving the day before you died, all over again.  It’s like watching myself in slow motion on February 24, 2011, the day before the Worst Day, so full of sadness and despair yet somehow desperately clinging to the tiniest shred of hope that by some miracle, you’d be healed and you would live.  There are so many thoughts and emotions swirling around inside of me that I just kind of become numb to everything except one single thought, clear as day, sharp and painful as broken glass:  You are gone and you are never coming back.

Tomorrow, before work, I’ll do something special for you.  Raise a glass of orange soda (the only drink you liked towards the end, because you could still taste the flavor) to the sky and make a toast.  I’ll promise you, like I always do, to keep working so hard to make a difference in the cancer community.  I’ll cry.  I’ll continue to remember, each and every day, the importance of life, family, friends, and love.  I won’t take anything for granted.  I will do my best to keep on being the girl you always said I was: the girl with the sunny, positive outlook, a young heart, and an old, wise soul.

I miss you.  I love you.  I can’t believe tomorrow will be two years.  I don’t want to believe it.  Thank you for being such an amazing best friend and teaching me so much about life.  I’m so sorry you’re gone.  I’ll never be okay with that.  I wish so badly you were still here with us.. I wish it every second of every damn day.

Love,

Kass

Gold vs. Pink: It Shouldn’t Have to be a War

In case you didn’t know, this past month, September, was Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.  The color that represents childhood cancer is gold.  I think this September has probably been the most successful September so far in terms of raising awareness about childhood cancer.  That being said, we are far from widely recognized, and if you asked the average person off the street if they knew what we raised awareness for in September, they probably would not know that it is Childhood Cancer Awareness month.  But if you ask anyone what we raise awareness about in the month of October, nine out of ten people would be able to tell you that it is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and probably ten out of ten people could identify the pink ribbon as the ribbon for breast cancer.

Peoples know about breast cancer.  They know about the pink ribbon.  They know about the Susan G. Komen Foundation.  Sadly, most people also know someone who has had breast cancer, too.  But all this knowing, all this awareness, has done something incredible: it has made breast cancer more treatable than ever before and it has shed so much light on the importance of early detection, because early detection truly does save lives.  So all of this is good news, right?  Yes, it is good news.  Nobody should have to suffer through cancer and nobody should have their life stolen from it.  The awareness and money raised for breast cancer has truly changed the way breast cancer is diagnosed and treated and that is incredible.

While I am forever grateful for the strides made in breast cancer treatment, I sometimes feel that powerhouse organizations/foundations like The Susan G. Komen Foundation may have lost some of the values it began with as it rose to the top.  Raising awareness and making sure your voice is heard can be done in a productive, positive and beneficial way without dominating other cancer charities or shoving others out of the spotlight.  I am sure The Susan G. Komen foundation as a whole is a good foundation that does good things, but I also feel that there may be a few individuals within the foundation with a lot of power who have lost sight of what this is all about and might have become a bit drunk on power on their rise to the top.

It is hard to cover up ones wrong-doings in this day and age because we have technology and almost limitless knowledge at our fingertips.  Just a bit of brief research can yield unsettling results, stories of certain breast cancer foundations doing their best to keep other breast cancer foundations (as well as charities for other cancers) from reaching their level of success, among many other things.  This past September, The Susan G. Komen Foundation started their advertising a month early for their awareness month, October.  With how widely recognized TSGKF has become, it is easy for them to squash out the little guys, particularly the children whose awareness month happens to fall right before October.  Isn’t it children, over all other groups of people, that need to be stood up for the most?  After all, children depend on adults to be their voice, their advocate, when they are too small to speak for themselves.

So right now you’re probably thinking, “Wow, Kassie, what the hell is wrong with you?  Are you seriously talking badly about breast cancer and claiming that they are corrupt and do bad things?  Do you think that only childhood cancer is important and that no other cancer is?”  No, no I don’t.  I am grateful for all the positive that The Susan G. Komen Foundation has brought to the world.  I do, however, believe that what once started with the purest of intentions may have become distorted over time and with power.  You might know why I am so passionate about fighting cancer, specifically childhood cancer.  You should know that cancer crash landed into my life in the middle of August 2010 when my best friend (an incredible foster mother and angel walking among us on this earth) was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer that had already spread to her liver, lungs, kidneys, and bones.  Ann died in February of 2011.  Just a few weeks after the devastating news of Ann’s cancer diagnosis, on August 31, 2010, my grandma AND my little brother were diagnosed with cancer on the same day.  My brother had synovial sarcoma and my grandma had breast cancer.  Did you know that early detection saved my grandma’s life?  That they caught her breast cancer early, did surgery, and just a few rounds of chemotherapy and she was in remission?  Do you know how amazing that is?  My brother embarked on a year long treatment plan of intravenous high dose chemotherapy and radiation that have many dangerous long-term side effects that can include developing a secondary cancer.  I am forever grateful to report that today, he is doing well, he is healthy, he is alive.  But so many kids that we met along Coleman’s journey didn’t make it, they aren’t here anymore and they SHOULD STILL BE HERE.

So what I am trying to say, although I think this whole post is not flowing very nicely or making much sense, is that I am glad for breast cancer awareness. I will always support breast cancer research.  I will alway support ALL cancer research, because we have so very very far to come.  But what I want to get across more than anything is that childhood cancer needs to be more widely recognized.  It just does.  For Ty, Ronan, Coleman, Kate, Ezra, Layla Grace, the list goes on and on and on.  I’m trying to say that cancer foundations and charities need to have respect and compassion for one another.  The little guy (childhood cancer) that the general public does not know nearly enough about does not deserve to be stomped on by the big guys who have more power and publicity than them.  If anything, I think the most successful cancer foundations should actively support other cancer organizations because isn’t the ultimate goal to cure the terrible beast that is cancer?  Or is their goal only to focus on their specific cancer?  

So here we are.  It is October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  Am I stomping my feet and crying out, “BREAST CANCER DOESN’T MATTER, FOCUS ON CHILDHOOD CANCER ONLY!”  HELL NO, I am not.  I am all for awareness, all for new research, and I am DEFINITELY all for a cure. But please, does it have to be a war?  And if the pink ribbon decides to go into the boxing ring against any other cancer foundation other than their own, is it fair that they have (on certain occasions) made their opponents CHILDREN?  Children should never have adults fighting against them, adults should be fighting for them.  If children don’t have adults fighting for and protecting them, who do they have?  

Be proactive.  Support all cancer research.  Bring awareness to ALL cancers.  Give each and every person fighting in the battle of their lives a voice.  Cancer is scary, dark, terrible, and sad.  It is hard enough to talk about adults having cancer, but most people find it near impossible to talk about childhood cancer because it is just so devastating.  Yes, it is devastating.  It is terrible and awful and cruel and inhumane and unthinkable.  But it is real.  It is happening.  Kids are fighting it and dying from it every single day.  People are too “uncomfortable” and “sad” to talk about childhood cancer, and the decision people have made to sweep it under the rug is costing kids the ultimate price: their lives.  I will NOT sit by and let children, one after another after another, pay with their lives just so the rest of the world can go about their daily lives pretending something as terrible and monstrous as childhood cancer does not exist.

Wake up.  Kids get cancer too.  Do you know the first step we as a society have to take in order to find a cure to childhood cancers?  We have to freaking admit that it exists and that it has been stealing the lives of countless children for far too long while we all turned a blind eye to their suffering.  Awareness is everything.

(note: thank you for reading this post.  this post was a difficult one for me to write, because i am very passionate about it and also because cancer has affected my life so dramatically, both breast cancer, childhood cancer, and other types of cancer.  we are all entitled to our opinion, and this one is mine.  please understand that there is nothing more that i could possibly want than a cure for ALL cancers.  this is also me standing up for the children who do not have a voice.)

Go Gold for September, Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

It’s September everybody!  Do you know what that means?  It means Childhood Cancer Awareness Month!  True, essentially everyday of my life is Childhood Cancer Awareness Day (that’s because my future career and the current work I do now all center around working with pediatric cancer and finding a cure), but this month is a particularly difficult but important month for those of us in the childhood cancer community.  It is a difficult one because it is an overwhelming reminder of just how many children we have lost to this terrible disease as well as the ridiculously high number of children who are currently battling this beast.  It is important because it is the one month we can call our own, and in this short span of thirty days we try to raise as much awareness as possible about childhood cancer, something the general public really doesn’t know all that much about.

Raising awareness for childhood cancer can be a real challenge though.  Why, you might ask?  Everyone cares about children, right?  So why would it be so hard to make the public aware about the facts?  WELL, childhood cancer is a very devastating thing.  People don’t typically associate children with cancer, and of course they don’t, because it is a terrifying and sickening thought.  Nobody deserves to suffer through cancer, especially not innocent little children.    People think, “Pediatric cancer is rare, not that many children get it” or “It won’t happen to my family, it could never be my kid.”  Believe me, anyone who found themselves in the childhood cancer community thought exactly the same way at one point.  “It couldn’t be MY son, couldn’t be MY daughter, there’s no way it could happen to MY sister or MY brother.” I speak from experience, I never in a million years thought childhood cancer would touch the life of anyone I love, until my own little brother was diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer called synovial sarcoma on August 31, 2010.  That is when the reality of childhood cancer smacked me in the face and the world as I knew it came crashing down around me.  From that point forward, I promised myself to do whatever it took to make a difference in the childhood cancer world, and I have stayed true to that promise.

People avoid talking about childhood cancer because it is devastating, it is scary, sad, terrifying, the list goes on and on.  It seems as if the general public feels that maybe if they pretend childhood cancer doesn’t exist, it will just go away.  Maybe if they avoid the topic enough, it will solve itself.  People avoid talking about it like it is catching, as if talking about childhood cancer will mean their child or loved one will get cancer too.  People believe that saying something about it, having an open dialogue about cancer will not make a difference.  They are afraid to talk about a sensitive topic, fearing they will offend or hurt someone else, and as a result choose to avoid the topic entirely.  I think as a society we are so fearful of negative emotions like pain, sadness, anger, loss, and grief, that we really go out of our way to ensure we don’t have to talk about or experience anything that might bring up those powerful emotions; and when we do experience something that brings up such emotions, we are constantly encouraged to “get over it” or “move on” or “find peace within the situation”.  As difficult as these “negative” emotions are, they are vital to us.  We need to experience sadness because it provides us with a sense of empathy.  Empathy cannot exist without sadness, therefore sadness is not a bad thing, although many people feel that it is.  Anger is another emotion we tend to avoid, but it can be one of the greatest motivators we have for action.  While it is true that anger can be harnessed and used for negative things, it can also be harnessed and used for positive things, to make real and lasting change in this world.  Without anger it is likely nothing would get done and the world would be very much lacking in passion.  No matter how actively we ignore “negative” emotions like sadness and anger, those emotions aren’t going anywhere, but if they are accepted they can be dealt with and used in a powerfully constructive way.

So what I’m really trying to say here is that in order to make real change in the childhood cancer world, people need to know the facts.  People need to hear the stories.  People need to experience these “negative” emotions and not ignore them, avoid them, or sweep them under the rug.  People need to be aware that childhood cancer is not rare.  They need to get sad and angry and passionate, and then they need to use those emotions to fuel positive, real, and lasting change.  I fight on behalf on all the kids who have lost their life to cancer.  I fight for all the children who are currently battling this beast.  Finally, the two reasons closest to my heart, the reasons I fight like hell, is for my brother Coleman (who I am so beyond grateful to report is healthy today) and for Ronan Sean Thompson (who lost his life just before his fourth birthday).  They are my reasons, and for them I will never stop fighting, I will never give up, and I will never, ever back down.

This month, please keep these three facts in mind, and share them with the people in your life:

• 46 children are diagnosed with cancer every single day, 7 of them will die today.
• Childhood cancer is the NUMBER ONE disease killer in children. 
• Pediatric cancer only receives 3.8% of all cancer research funding. 

You know those things you thought you couldn’t do? You should go do them.

“It is not the critic who counts. Not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled. Or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man in the arena. Whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood. Who strives valiantly. Who errs and comes short again and again. Who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause. Who at best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement. And who, at worst, if he fails… at least fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls, who know neither victory or defeat.”

I am going out and doing something I never thought I could or would do. I am going to run a half marathon (13.1 miles) in the Phoenix Rock n Roll Marathon on January 20, 2013. Those who know me best know I’ve spent the first 21 years (so my whole life) of my life loathing running. I’ve never been able to do it right, to get into the groove of it, to get my breathing right so that I don’t tire out easily or get a side ache. I never in my life thought I would run for any reason, unless someone was chasing me, and I certainly never in my wildest dreams expected I would sign up for a half marathon on my own free will. But here I am, registered to run a half marathon, and I will not give up or back down.

So why is this (formerly) self-proclaimed “running disabled” individual running a half marathon? There is only one answer to this question and there is only one reason I would ever do it: to raise money for The Ronan Thompson Foundation and find a cure to one of the most common and deadly forms of childhood cancer, neuroblastoma. I run for Ronan, the most beautiful little boy who ever lived, a little boy who should still be here but was stolen from his family (one of the most incredible families I’ve ever met, by the way) by the monster that is neuroblastoma. My brother Coleman roomed with Ronan while getting chemotherapy back when they were both diagnosed in August of 2010. My brother is doing well and is healthy today, and for that I am eternally grateful, but it should be both Coleman AND Ronan that are still here today.

I’ve started training for my marathon, and I am truly starting at the very beginning, because as I mentioned, I don’t have the best track record with running. Today was a milestone for me, I ran for 7 minutes without stopping. That probably seems pathetic to most people but I am proud of myself and this small accomplishment because I literally started at the very bottom.

So, as I make this difficult journey towards my 13.1k marathon, will you help me out? My fundraising goal is $2,000.00 and with YOUR help I know I can reach and even surpass this goal, and we can truly start making a difference in the childhood cancer/neuroblastoma world! This cause is so incredibly close to my heart, I do this for my brother, for Ronan baby, and for all other kids who have fought/are fighting childhood cancer. This is all for them. If kids can fight cancer, I can DEFINITELY run a half marathon. Please help me out by clicking RIGHT HERE to donate to my personal fundraising page. Please help me out, it couldn’t be for a more worthwhile cause, and even the smallest donation makes a difference and means the world to me!

Thank you so much, I appreciate it more than words will ever be able to express. So come on, go out there and do the things you never thought you could. All good things are wild and free.

Our Church in the Desert

Our church does not have four walls or a roof. It does not have front doors, an alter, pews, or air conditioning. Our church does not have electricity, did not cost anything to build, and was not man-made. There is no set time or day for our church services. Services do not follow a strict routine. Some days, our church lasts for only a few minutes; on other days, our church goes on for hours and hours. Our church does not have any staff, it does not have a priest or preacher. Our church does not have a holy book, and our church knows no denomination.

It’s okay to be quiet at our church. It’s okay to be sad, angry, hopeful, contemplative, or furious. You can talk at our church or you can sit in silence. You can cry and scream and yell. You can talk to a friend, you can talk to yourself, you can talk to a passing stranger, you can talk to the earth or the sky or whoever you believe is out there listening.

We share our church. With the sky and the trees, the spikey cacti and rough gravel, with the bushes and boulders, all the desert creatures that call it their home and all the human beings that explore its winding paths.

Our church is unpredictable. It is spicy. It is wild and free. It is a place to connect, a place to think, to learn, to grow, to understand, to find even a brief moments peace.

Our church reminds us to be mindful and honest and raw and open-minded. Those who enter our church with an open mind, open heart, and open arms will experience the profound, will witness things that no words can ever adequately describe.

(ps: Thank you Ro)

I Don’t Understand The: “Why Should I Care?” Mentality

While working a few weeks ago, I somehow ended up in a very strange conversation with someone.  I don’t remember how we got to where we did in the conversation, but the next thing I knew, the person I was talking with said, “Well, I wouldn’t expect other people, especially strangers, to stop and help me if I got cancer.   You know, I’ve got my own life to live and a lot of other things on my mind besides helping people cure cancer in this world.”  As soon as this individual (a very good person, I might add, although I couldn’t disagree with this persons statement more passionately) uttered this statement, I stopped.  I was speechless.  I felt a lump in my throat.  She, of course, did not know how involved I am in the cancer world; she definitely did not know how personally cancer (and worst of all, childhood cancer) had attacked the ones I love.  I swallowed hard and tried to think of what to say to that.  Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and I am not Queen of the World, I do not get to say what is a problem and what is not, what things people should care about and what they should disregard.  So I gathered myself, took a deep breath, and said, “Yeah, I guess each and every one of us has a lot going on.  Life gets busy.  We have a million things on our ‘To-Do’ lists, but in my life, finding a cure to cancer and helping others who have it or have been affected by it just happens to be right at the top of my own personal ‘To-Do’ list.  I think maybe the reason I feel that way is that for me, cancer is personal.”

I decided to stop there and not go on, because if I went on I would end up making this individual feel bad, but if I was to go on I would have said, “You see, it’s personal because cancer stole the life of my best friend.  Then it went on to attack the bodies of my grandma and LITTLE BROTHER.. and I am so FORTUNATE that they are here with me still today, healthy, but cancer still is a threat to their life, and because my brother’s cancer is so rare and dangerous, if it comes back we’ve been told there would be little to no hope, because there is no further treatment for his kind of cancer because they DON’T KNOW SHIT about it, it’s too rare and because of that nobody wants to fund research for the ‘incredibly terrible and deadly type of cancer that not THAT many people get’.  And then I met wonderful, incredible human beings through this cancer journey of my brother’s.  I met all this amazing children (children with freaking cancer), and then I had to stand by and watch 85% of these children DIE.  Have you ever heard of Ronan, the most beautiful little boy that ever lived?  Do you see these bracelets that I wear everyday to work (and everyday of my life)?  These are for him.  HE WAS STOLEN BY CANCER.  One look at that beautiful little boy and his piercing blue, sparkly eyes would make you change your mind in an instant, would make you want a cure to cancer so bad that your whole body ached for it.  HE should still be here.  He roomed with my little brother at Phoenix Children’s Hospital, and you know what is bullshit?  He’s not here anymore.  It should be HIM AND MY BROTHER that are both still here today.  And his family, oh his family.  They are a family entirely comprised of the most wonderful, kind, loving, amazing human beings you’ll ever meet.  His mama, daddy, and his twin older brothers, they are ALL prime examples of why I still have faith in the human race, and Ronan, he LIVED LIFE the way it was meant to be lived, to the fullest, with lots of love, fun, spunk, and spice.  THESE are just SOME of the reasons I have dedicated my life to helping others and finding a cure to this terrible, nasty beast.“

So, you can probably see why I chose to stop myself where I did.  I am not a mean person.  I never wish to harm, hurt, manipulate, and put down another person.  I want to be a person who makes a POSITIVE difference in the lives of others, but I also seek to make real change in this cancer world, and sometimes that means causing a ruckus, but the place and person I was talking to was not the right opportunity to do so, especially in a work setting where I am quite new.

What this individual said got me thinking about why things might be so slow to change.  I think many people live in the “If it isn’t directly affecting MY life, WHY should I worry about it?” Mindset.  For me, it’s more like, “How could I NOT care, I have to make a difference!”  Yes, I think that everybody should care about curing cancer, but what everyone chooses to care about and feel passionate about is different.  I guess my greatest hope is that as a human race, we become more compassionate in general (I’m not just talking about cancer here, I’m talking about in all aspects of life).  Love deeper.  Help people.  Do things that make this world a better place.  Find your passion, and follow it.  Speak up.  Let your voice be heard.  Stand up for yourself and others.  Care about others.  Live bravely.  Leave this world a better place than it was when you first came into it.  Be wild and free.

Oh, and if you happen to have that burning passion to find a cure for cancer, fight hard, never give up, and fuck cancer.  

Danger Walks, Kind Strangers, RoLove, and F U Cancer!!

Yesterday I got done with work and was heading home when I got a text that made my eyes sting with tears and my stomach sick. After talking on the phone for awhile with a very special person, I needed to get outside, to do something strenuous, to physically work off the sadness that filled my soul and the anger that overwhelmed me, the anger that is directed towards cancer, one of the only things I am ever really all that angry at. It was already 6:30 pm when I made the decision to change into work out clothes, grab a backpack and throw in one water bottle and my wallet, along with some Rockstar Ronan/F U cancer bracelets. I started walking, speed walking, walking on the verge of running (I don’t run though, not unless somebody is chasing me.. running just isn’t my thing, but maybe one day I will learn to be good at it). The sun began to set within an hour of my crazy fast/sad/angry/determined walk. I quickly noticed that I was very sore, which duh, makes sense, because I’ve only worked out one other time since my bad car accident. I am doing worlds betters, but having not exercised in awhile definitely set me back a bit, that and I am also still sore and my body is a bit out of whack from the accident. Despite my legs cramping up, I couldn’t stop walking. Well, I physically could stop walking if I had wanted to, but I had fire in my soul and fire coursing through my veins, and mentally, I just needed to keep going, one foot in front of the other, feeling the soreness of my muscles, taking in the world around me.

Before I knew it, the sun was setting. At this point I had walked to the Barry Goldwater Memorial off Lincoln, and it was then that I snapped out of my mental fog and back into reality: I’ve already walked three and a half miles.. it is going to get dark soon, maybe I should turn back? NO, NO!! my mind screamed, you NEED to keep going. So I did. At this point it was dark, really dark. The dark doesn’t scare me, but I am smart enough to know that is not smart as a young, single, alone female to be walking by herself at night. I wasn’t really scared that somebody would do something to me, I was more concerned with the fact that now I’d walked just over six miles, and my legs were about to give out, and yeah, it was pitch black, the sidewalk in front of me had stopped and turned into just street, cars were zooming by at 50 mph, and there was no way in hell I was going to make it back home on my own two feet. So I decided it was fate that I brought my wallet with me, and walked another mile to an AJ’s Fine Foods grocery store, got a drink and something to eat, and called a cab. It is odd to call a cab to take you to the home that you grew up in. Weird to walk streets that you’ve only ever driven on, and odd to take a cab at all because, where my mom lives, you just don’t do that.

Two teenage girls were working the cash register while I was checking out. They both looked at my wrists and said, “What are all of those purple bracelets for?” I automatically was like, “Oh crap, I forgot to put them in special places on my walk today! They are Rockstar Ronan/Fuck You Cancer bracelets. They are for a little boy named Ronan, who lost his life to cancer.” I went on to explain more about Ronan, my involvement, my brother, best friend, and grandma, how cancer had came into my life, and why I was dedicated to finding a cure. I gave each of the girls Ro cards and bracelets. One girl took it gratefully and sadly said, “My uncle died a few days ago from cancer. His funeral is tomorrow, so this means a lot to me.” I was lucky to have met these two girls, and I know the feeling was mutual. RoLove was spread to two people that night, and while two isn’t a ton of people, I know that Ronan’s life and his story has forever changed those two girls and the way that they look at the world.

After checking out, I walked outside and my cab pulled up. My cab driver was a very nice man named John. I got in and he asked me where I was going, I told him. He asked me how I was doing today, and I said, “Good.. well, actually, that’s not true. It has just been one of those days, where the best part of the day is that it is almost over, and that tomorrow is a new chance at things.” He told me that he knows how those days go. We started talking about things. How I went to ASU. How he didn’t get to finish college but still wanted to. How he used to have a successful small business before the economy crashed, but once times got hard and the economy hit rock bottom, he lost his business and decided to become a cab driver just to make ends meet. He said ends did meet, but just barely, and he wasn’t able to spend time with his kids because his job was so unpredictable. He said it was hard to face that failure, to face the fact that you’ve failed in something. I told him that it’s only failure if you get knocked down and you stay there, but if you get knocked down and fight like hell to get back up, even if it happens slowly, than you haven’t failed. We got to my house. It was $17.00, I gave him $30.00 and told him, “Thank you for taking me home, have a good night, it was really nice to meet you.” John and I, in a barely 15 minute car ride, had a legitimate conversation, one about real and difficult topics. Even though John had been knocked down many times before, he still had a fire in him, and that made me so happy to see.

It was a weird night, a terrible night, and okay night. Anger, sadness, gratitude, hope, these were some of the many emotions I was feeling. I will always have hope, no matter what happens, I will always have a relentless hope. My danger walk was what I needed last night. It helped me release so much sadness, it lead me to spread the RoLove and share Ronan’s life and story with others, and it allowed me to meet John, a very kind soul. I wish that I hadn’t needed to go on my danger walk, that the reason behind it all did not exist, ever. But sometimes all you can do is direct any negativity you have in you into something productive, something positive, or some sort of exercise, and that is just what I did.

Never, ever take a single day for granted. If you have your health, you have everything in life.

Oh, and fuck you cancer, you fucking fuck.

A Letter To Ann

Dear Ann,

I had a good night tonight.  Went to dinner and had a good time.  I was on my way home, driving on Hayden.  Of course, taking Hayden, I pass the street that I would turn on to go to your house.  I used to turn there so often that I would just do it on automatic pilot.  In the past year and a half, I will randomly decide to turn down your street and drive past your house when I happen to be driving on Hayden.  It has been quite awhile since I’ve driven by your house, and as I was driving home tonight, I had already turned on your street before I’d even consciously realized what I was doing.  Apparently my heart decided I needed to go by your house.

It hurts to drive by your house, but I need it periodically.  It hurts to see the “For Sale” sign outside your house, because I don’t want your house to be sold to people who don’t know you, who didn’t know you.  Sometimes, I try to be sneaky and park outside your house just so I can take it all in for a moment, but usually there’s neighbors out and about and I don’t want to look creepy.  I guess that empty house has been like one of the last pieces of you that I have, and so I cling onto it although I shouldn’t, because it isn’t the same without you there.

Tonight was different though, I turned into your neighborhood and slowed as I curved around the corner, your house would be the next one coming up on my left.  And then my heart sank.  The “For Sale” sign was gone.  There was a car, not your car, parked in the driveway.  The shutters on the outside of the house had been repainted, a new, darker blue.  I guess it looks good but the new bright paint makes me sick, because it isn’t the same old blue that you had painted them.  The blinds on the living room window were open, and light came pouring out from them.  There were two painted wooden lawn chairs in the front yard, those most definitely are not yours.  I obviously couldn’t stop my car, not like a creepy weirdo in front of their house, in front of your house, but as I slowly drove by, I saw two big chairs in the living room, chairs that were not yours.  Tears stung my eyes and my heart immediately jumped into my throat.  I drove away, and headed home.

I guess I should have figured that somebody would buy your house eventually, but I secretly hoped nobody would ever do that, so your house would always remain exactly how you left it.  As I drove home, vision blurred with tears, a million questions popped into my head.  Did the new owners of YOUR house repaint the mural you put up in the living room?  Did they repaint the bedrooms/bathrooms/kitchen?  Did they replace the refrigerator that we seemed to always have to fix?  Did they paint over the beautiful paintings in the two upstairs bedrooms?  And what about your bedroom?  Who sleeps there now?  Do they know that your bedroom, the master bedroom, didn’t used to be there, and that a few years before you got sick we remodeled the downstairs in the house and expanded so that you’d have a master downstairs?  What is it like walking up your stairs without all the picture frames with smiling faces hung on either side?  What had they done with the backyard?  Did a family live there?  Did kids live there?  Why why why did they repaint those blue shutters?!

I was and still am hung up on every minute and probably seemingly unimportant detail.  I don’t want them to live in your house.  I know it isn’t fair to leave it empty, with no life and joy filling it, but somebody moving into your house makes it that much more real, you aren’t here, your never coming back, and now somebody else has reclaimed the place that we have so many countless memories in.  I wonder if you’d be sad that your house was sold.  You loved that house, because you worked so hard to make it your own.  I think the pain and memories in that house made it too much though, for your family to keep it.  I think you’ll always be a part of that house.  I wish you were still there, because it would mean you weren’t dead (I fucking hate that word, dead) and I would still have you in my life.

I wonder if the people that live there now knew of you, about you.. I suppose probably not.  I wonder if they knew that you were the most incredible person this world has ever seen.  I wonder if they knew you were perfectly okay one day, and the next day we found out you had Stage 4 colon cancer that had spread to your liver, lungs, kidneys, and bones.  I wonder if they know your body slowly stopped working the way it should have, in that house.  I wonder if they know how you, so vivacious and productive and always on the move, were suddenly unable to walk or get up to go to the bathroom by yourself, and how all you could do was sleep.  They probably don’t know that you were lying in bed in that house one night when I called you, but one of your family members had to answer it for you, because your hearing was going quickly, and you couldn’t really talk, because it was too painful.. they had to tell me that over the phone, that you couldn’t talk anymore.  They probably don’t know that the last place I ever saw you was in that house, holding your hands so you’d know I was there.  You couldn’t see, hear, or speak well, but you knew I was there, and touch is the last of the senses that leaves us before we die.  I hope everyone who ever loves and cares about someone knows that, that they should hold their loved ones hand when they are near the end, because it will comfort them and let them know you are still there beside them.

I’m quite certain the new residents in your house don’t know that you died there.  They don’t know that I sometimes still drive by it because its a little piece of you that I have, but now I don’t even have that anymore.  Because now your house is someone else’s.  I hope they make happy, beautiful memories there.  Even though you died there, I know your loving, compassionate, joyful spirit lingers in that house, and will fill it with love and positivity for the new family that lives there.  They’ll never know that you, my best friend in the whole world, the most kind hearted person that ever lived, lived in that house.  They are lucky to have your house.  I hope they somehow sense how blessed they are to live in the place that you once inhabited.  I hope so much that NOBODY in their family EVER gets cancer.

I hate cancer, I hate it so much.  I hate it for taking you, my best friend in the entire world.  I hate it for trying to steal the life of my little brother, who is doing well, but doctors say we’ve still got a battle ahead.  I hate cancer for taking Ronan.  I hate it for taking all these babies and kids and teenagers.  I just freaking hate cancer.

I am so, so sorry Ann.  I am sorry that cancer stole your life.  It wasn’t right, it still isn’t right, and it never will be right.  You deserved better.  I am so sorry we didn’t catch it early enough, that you died barely six months after being diagnosed.  I’m sorry that your gone and not alive here on earth, where you should be.  I need you, your family needs you, your friends need you, and I think that you need us too.  I hope that, wherever you are, it is a wonderful place, because you, more than anyone I know, deserve to be in the absolute most beautiful place imaginable.   I hope you are happy, that you can still feel things like happy and peace wherever you are.  I love you, I miss you so much it is sickening, and I will always wish this had never happened to you.  I am here, working on making a difference in this world, hoping that what I do will help bring a day where there is no such thing as cancer.  You are always loved, and never, ever forgotten.

I miss you, I love you, and will never be able to say that enough.  Thank you for giving me the gift of the best friendship of my life.  I carry you in my heart, always.

Love,

Kassie

(If easily offended, stop reading immediately) Fuck You Cancer, You Fucking Fuck.

I have nothing enlightening to say tonight, nor do I have anything airy and light and fluffy and positive to say.  My words will not be eloquent tonight, they may not make sense because I’m kind of in a fog right now, an overwhelming fog that may not let me get the words out right the way I want to, I’m not sure there are words for my emotions.   I am filled with anger and filled with sadness.  A five-year-old little girl named Lilly Valentine lost her life to Neuroblastoma yesterday.  The last few days I have been having nightmares and missing my dearest friend Ann, who lost her life to colon cancer (which had spread to her liver, lungs, kidneys, and bones) in February 2011.    Just a few days ago was thirteen months since cancer claimed the life of the most beautiful little boy in the whole world, Ronan Thompson.  I am reminded every freaking day how lucky I am to have my brother here with me right now, doing well, and not having to be in treatment constantly like he was last year after being diagnosed with Synovial Sarcoma.  Tonight, a family friend of mine, a girl who is just nineteen years old, was diagnosed with a very serious form of leukemia.

My heart is so fucking heavy, there is too much cancer in this world, too many babies and children and teenagers and adults fighting for their lives, and too many losing their lives to this ugly, terrible, monstrous disease.  There is no excuse for us not having a freaking cure by now, there just isn’t.  Is there a cure already?  I truly do think so, but I don’t want to get into that tonight-my heart is to heavy to write down what a scary billion dollar power hungry industry the whole pharmaceutical and medical community is.. and it just honestly leaves me beyond devastated that there is probably a cure out there, or even some experimental drugs, and they are being withheld.  I don’t know, regardless of whether there is a cure out there that is being withheld or not, what it comes down to is that we are too damn far advanced in this modern, technological world for there not to be a cure for fucking cancer.

Nobody deserves to go through this hell they call cancer.  My grandma shouldn’t have.  My best friend shouldn’t have.  My little brother shouldn’t have.  My grandpa shouldn’t have.  Ronan shouldn’t have.  Ellie, Ava, Lewis, Anna, Layla, Mackenzie, Lilly, Isabella, Kate, JoJo, Brennan, Bella, Lucy, Idalya, Kayleigh, Grier, Clinton, Angelina, Jackson, Jayson, Lucas, Joshua, Riley, Drue, Christian, Gabriel (and yes, all these names are of children) and the list devastatingly goes on and on shouldn’t have had to battle cancer.  We need a fucking cure, people.  This isn’t right. This isn’t normal.  And I will fight everyday of my life to help find a cure.  I have dedicated my future to it, my career choice to it, everything.  Because every family deserves a happy and long life together.  Every human being deserves a long, fulfilling life.  And dammit, every child deserves at least a wonderful childhood, a chance to grow up, go to their high school prom, have their first kiss, fall in love for the first time, graduate high school, go off to college or work, meet their soul mate, start a family of their own.

So many people are being cheated out of these experiences.  So many people are being cheated out of life, all at the hands of cancer.

I am so sorry if this post was a clusterfuck of crazy, a whole bunch of ideas and thoughts and emotions running wild and not really making sense or having any real direction.  I just needed to get all of this out there, so it wasn’t just trapped inside of me making me increasingly more sad.  I’m sorry if anybody took my excessive use of the “F” word personally, but it is a word I use when filled with fire and sadness and passion to change something.  And you know what?  There is honestly no better time to use the “F” word than when talking about cancer, because cancer is a fucking piece of shit.  I’m so sorry to those of you who have personally been affected by cancer, it is so incredibly hard and you shouldn’t have to go through it.  I will keep fighting the good fight and do what I can to find a cure.  For my brother, for my best friend, for Ronan, for Taryn, for all of them.

Please keep my family friend in your hearts, mind, thoughts, and prayers.  She deserves to kick cancers fucking ass.  Please God and the universe and anything else greater than us out there, please let her beat this, please please please.

Sunday Hiking at 5:30 a.m.

I am not a morning person, nights are my specialty.  It’s not that I’m grumpy in the morning or breathe fire at anybody who walks in my direction before I’ve had my first cup of coffee (I’m pretty much happy all the time, sleepy or otherwise), but rather because I legitimately am a night owl and also tango with insomnia every damn night of my life-so, I usually don’t fall asleep until 3 a.m. and waking up at 5:30 a.m. to go hiking today was very hard but worth it.  It has been in the 100-108 degree range this entire last week, and I never woke up early enough to avoid the unbearable heat, a heat that has already killed a few Arizona hikers in the past week or so.  There has been heat advisories everyday (typical) and when you wake up at 11:00 a.m. or later (thank you, summer break!) you end up missing the only coolish/safe/logical time to hike!

Today was my first hike since last Sunday, but for some reason when I woke up my legs were screaming with soreness.  Even the first few steps on the mountain today were brutal, and it was a LONG uphill hike for me today.  But I do not back down from hiking, and I got my ass up that mountain eventually.  Off all the days I can decide whether or not to go hiking, Sunday is non-negotiable.  Hiking on Sunday is like my church.  Sometimes it feels as if hiking is my religion and the mountains are my church.  So, I hike every Sunday, religiously.

Today as I hiked, Maya Thompson and RoBaby were on my mind and heart.  MamaMaya is running (as we speak) in the San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon.  She is calling it, “Maya’s Marathon of Madness: If Kids Can Fight Cancer, I Can Run a Marathon Without Training for It!” and she is doing just that!  I am so grateful that I have gotten to meet this incredible woman, but I wish it were not under these circumstances.  Today, she runs for her son Ronan who lost his life to cancer.  She also runs for each and every child that lost their life to cancer as well as the children fighting it right now and the children in remission.  During her “Marathon Training” she helped raise enough money to fund an incredible and cutting-edge Neuroblastoma study led by Dr. Yael Mosse at CHOP.  This study is going to blaze new trails and save these babies’ lives.  The things Maya is doing, well, there are really no words for it.  She has the passion, drive, dedication, and spirit to make real change, and I am absolutely positive she will.  Because Ronan should still be here, but Maya is continuing this fight for him, for all the kids affected by cancer, kids like my own little brother.

Here’s a beautiful picture from my Sunday Hike today.  My legs are completely fried right now, but the burn in my legs and the ache in my muscles reminds me that I am alive.  I am healthy.  I have wonderful family and friends.  My heart continues to beat.  I have the freedom to go hiking, unlike the many children and adults in this world that are confined to a hospital bed because they are sick with a disease that should have a cure by now.  Each day that I wake up, with the ability to walk, talk, breathe, climb, and love-well that is a blessing-and I count my blessings everyday.  Happy Sunday everybody, I hope you all have a fabulous week!