I am beginning to feel more like myself. My unfit, need exercise self. ;-) But this is a good thing. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
I'm also turning my attention towards things about which I was passionate before cancer distracted me. Haiti.
In 2008 my church began a relationship with an organization in Haiti called Reaching Haiti 4 Christ. The executive director is a Haitian man named, Steven Daniel Exantus. He and his family live in the Miami area, but have been going back and forth to Haiti for decades with the sole purpose of giving back to their hometowns and spreading the good news of the gospel.
Pastor Steve has founded two schools and churches in Haiti. One is in the capital city, Port-au-Prince, and one is in his hometown in Northwest Haiti, in the community of Bombardopolis. Our church began sending school supplies to these two schools back in 2009, and also began planning our first missions trip.
When the earthquake of 2010 struck, we did not know if we'd be able to go, but Pastor Steve said we should still try. So in July of that year, six months after the earthquake, six of us from our church made our first trip to Haiti. We traveled by car to Bombardopolis from Port-au-Prince - an unforgettable 16 hour drive over mostly dirt roads. Haiti's equivalent to our west coast's "highway 1" is beautiful, rugged, dangerous and rocky. I have to tell you….
We left Port-au-Prince around 7 a.m. in two four-wheel-drive vehicles. The first half of the trip was on paved roads through various small towns along Haiti's northern coast. We drove at a normal pace for crowded roads. I saw fields where rice is grown. I saw walls around expensive homes right on the coast. I saw children bathing in ditches. I still remember the hot sun beating down on us as we made a few stops along the way to pick up food and supplies. The blue Caribbean sea on our left and the mountains to our right. Occasionally we would go through small pockets of civilization with grocery stores, cell-phone booths where you could buy your minutes, fruit stands - honestly, just bustling caribbean towns. We also stopped in the first capital city of Haiti, Gonaives. This city was hit by a number of hurricanes between 2004 and 2008. But it still stands proud. With amazing architecture.
But eventually the pavement ran out. Shortly after leaving Gonaives there was simply no more pavement. The road narrowed and the landscape became less populated. We passed salt flats. We passed thatched huts. Yes, thatched huts. Fishing boats. Rocky beaches strewn with conch shells. Children playing soccer with a ball made of wadded up and tied together plastic grocery bags. The road began to climb until we were on a rather narrow rocky road 100 feet above the sea. No one lived up here. Or so we thought. We passed a small hut on the cliffside - as we passed five or six children ran out to greet us and ask for food. Two of them were naked.
The sun was beginning to set. We'd been on the road for 10 hours. When I asked Pastor Steve how much longer to Bombaropolis, he replied, in typical Haitian form, "Less than 10 hours."
We ran into a roadblock at one point. Just for us. Apparently word had gotten around (by motorbike - they were faster than we were) that there were foreigners on the road. At the roadblock Pastor Steve got out and talked to the men who said we could go by only if we gave them $100. Pastor Steve said to them, "Do you know who I am? I'm a pastor from Bombardopolis and these Americans are coming with me to work in that community and bring food and medicine to my neighbors. How dare you demand money from them. They are here to help." And we were allowed through, no more problems.
However, it's really getting to be dark now. And the landscape more and more rugged. As the sun fell and the moon rose the going got very slow. The road was like driving through a dried up riverbed. We slowed to a crawl. We saw a glowing fire in the distance and learned that this was the reason the mountains were deforested. The glowing was from a buried tree or trees which were on fire to produce coal which is what's used to cook - even in the cities.
Our little caravan began to climb into the mountains now. Our exhaustion was palpable. Time began to have no meaning. And then, just like that, we were in Bombardopolis. We didn't see it coming because there's on electricity. No lights to guide us. Just the bumpy road. But Pastor Steve knew where we were going, and we trusted him completely.
Somehow we found our sleeping quarters - four to a room - two on a bed and two on the floor. There was a generator, so there was light at Pastor Steve's home compound of about 3 acres. And the drive was done.
It took us 16 hours to drive 90 miles.
If you're still reading, congratulations. I can get long-winded when describing life-changing events. To learn more about the organization and to see photos, please visit our website - yes, I said OUR website, by going to www.hope4haiti.net -- I feel so connected, even 5 years after that first trip. I will journal more about Haiti at a later date. My passion is still strong.

Solid week vacation. No charge. At the beach. No strings attached. That's what we received last week. There is an organization called Little Pink Houses of Hope whose mission is: To promote breast cancer recovery by offering opportunities for survivors to reconnect and celebrate life.  It's true. How do they do this?  Here's how: 

We provide FREE week long vacations for breast cancer patients and their families.

We believe a cancer diagnosis does not just affect the patient, but the entire family. Every beach retreat is designed to help families relax, reconnect and rejuvenate during the cancer journey.

How about that!?? So, last week, our family went to Carolina Beach, NC on the dime of a bunch of wonderful and generous donors ranging from beach homeowners to restaurant managers to water-fun activities businesses. It was amazing. 

We stayed in a condo overlooking the harbor, ate free meals at Kate's Pancake House and other local restaurants, learned to Paddle Board thanks to Ocean Cure, pedal-boated around Carolina Beach Lake even though they're closed for the season (they opened just for us), and spent lots of time on the beautiful Atlantic beaches. We (our family) were one of 11 families selected to receive this vacation. And we are so grateful. Here are some photos of the week - they speak louder than my typing.

 Daniel in historic Wilmington

 Me with my dear "handler", Jill, from Charlotte

 Photogenic pelican

 Fishermen and women at Kure Beach pier

 Cuties

 Tim, our new photographer

 Ocean view at Fort Fischer, on the southern end of Pleasure Island, NC

 Daniel and the live oak grove

 Cutie

 Fort Fischer live oak stand

 The beautiful Atlantic with some nuts

 We went to the aquarium while there!

Seagulls love Doritos. apparently.

 Our condo is at the center of this pic in the end of the harbor

 What we saw when we first went to the beach

 Family pic

 Pedal boating

We had such a great time! It's hard to come home and settle back into work/school routine. But it's necessary. I'm also settling into a new normal. I am cancer free! The PET scan done the Friday before we left on vacation is completely clear! No cancer at all! So so happy. Elated in fact. So, everyday from here on out is a celebration that I have another day. I beat it. We beat it. Your support, love, prayers, actions, were all weapons in this war against cancer. The chemo and radiation were the cannon balls and everything else was artillery. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It's done.

Spring is here which means an end to my cancer treatments. THAT is good news! So I am continuing to rest, but am also building back in some activity. Not too much, but some.
Not much else to report. Because END OF TREATMENTS is big news. ;-)

March is looking like a month of "lasts". My last chemo was postponed from Feb. 25 to March 2. And my last radiation looks like it'll be March 30 or so, depending on weather delays.
I'm looking forward to being done with everything regarding treatment for cancer. I think that goes without saying, although I just said it. Again.
Spring is around the corner and we're ready. I've become so used to short winters that this winter seems especially long. Temps around Alabama have usually already started climbing by late February. Come on sunny and warm days!
May March pass amazingly quickly! Please!

As I sit here this Sunday morning with  my quart of coffee (yes. quart. litre. a lot), I'm reflecting on the events of the past year. February 4 (last week) marked one year since my diagnosis with breast cancer. One year ago. To remember the emotions hitting me at that time is enough to raise my blood pressure. So, I won't. What I will remember is the way all my care was orchestrated and fell into place and felt specifically tailored for me. I will remember in spite of the weather delays in getting appointments, everything was going to be okay. I will remember the trauma of my first biopsy made it clear to my dear friend Ami that she was going to make it a point to be with me for any potentially traumatic appointment. And she was. And if she couldn't be, Anne-Marie was there. Or Kristi would pop her head in the mammogram room to see if I was okay - taking a break from her pharmaceutical job where she was mixing MY meds for my chemo. My friend making my medicine. Perfect.
I will remember the day of my first chemo receiving so many texts and messages saying, basically, "You got this, Lisa", over and over again until I actually began believing it. I will remember coming home to flowers, cards, gifts and food that first day. I will remember having so many meals delivered to my door that now the list has exceeded 100 meals. That's around 10 meals a month! For a whole year!
I will remember the kindness of my workplace. The space and time they give me to recover and still do my job. And when I fail, the grace they show me. Wow.
I will remember the two weeks straight I got to spend with my little sister Kristy when she came to take care of me after the mastectomy. The diligence with which she watched my "drains" and kept them clear and wrote down when I took my meds, and tended to my every need. I will remember the visits from my older sister Janet and her smiles, the games we played, the attention she gave her nephews so I could rest. The movies, but mostly her smiles.
I will remember the time my parents gave me - both sets. My parents sat with me, folded laundry, fixed broken things around the house, and loved on me. My in-laws sent notes, love, texts, gifts, and visits, too. What a blessing to enjoy your family!
I'm leaving people out and I don't want to do that, so I'll stop here. Just know that you are remembered. I have a list. For real.
Now I face the end of this journey. The good end. One more chemo - last chemo - on February 25. Radiation therapy starts this week on the 11th. I'll be ready for a big celebration Spring Break - by that week (which is March 27-April 5), I should be finished with all cancer treatments.
Above all, I have to say, again, God is always good all of the time. I believe that now.