🌻Still Standing!🎗

07/27/20 - I  finally got my biopsy results today.  Earlier this year,  one of my cancer surveillance scans revealed growing nodules near my thyroid (not uncommon).  These same  nodules had been seen on previous scans but this time the radiologist recommended further imaging.  Two months later, I was sent for an ultrasound.  I had hoped that would be the end of it, but one of the nodules was  suspicious, so I was sent for a biopsy, which I finally had a week ago, three months after my initial round of scans.

Five years ago when I was first diagnosed with myxoid round cell liposarcoma, the nonograms predicted the following odds, given the size & grade of my tumour:

Within 5 Years:

51% chance of metastasis, 65% chance of survival.

Within 10 years: 

56% of metastasis, 50% chance of survival.

90% of MRCLS mets occur within five years of initial diagnosis.

Well, I am elated & extremely freaking relieved to announce, I’m officially five years NED (no evidence of disease)!!!  While I will still have to be monitored for the rest of my life due to sarcoma’s tendency to return many years later, this is a HUGE milestone for me!!!  FINALLY some good news for 2020, which can still kiss my backside, btw, but today I am celebrating with a huge sigh of relief!  My NED-aversary  was technically 17 days ago, But better late than never!

*Deep breath*

YAY!!!

As an atheist who also happens to be a realist,, there have been times where I never thought I would get to this point,  having seen  several fellow warriors with the same subtype of liposarcoma lose their battle over the last five years.  I know I‘m one of the lucky ones & am grateful to still be here when many others have lost the battle.  My heart goes out to those who are still fighting & those who have lost a loved one due to sarcoma & other cancers.

I couldn’t have gotten through the past five years without the love & support of my wonderful mom, my aunt, the unconditional love of my fur-kids (past & present), close friends (you know who you are!) & the music of Placebo & IAMX. Here’s to better things ahead!  Next goal: 10 years NED!  Seventeen days down, 1808 more to go! 😀🎗🌻

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Cancer Surveillance in the Age of COVID-19.

06/13/20: - To say 2020 has been an interesting year would be an understatement.  A week before my latest round of scans, the COVID-19 lockdown hit my city.  Scanxiety is bad enough, never  mind having to decide whether or not it’s safe enough to get your scans in the first place.  It’s like you’re damned if you do & damned it you don’t.  Adding fuel to the fire was the fact I’d switched to annual  scans half a year early, so if I were to postpone  even further, that could’ve possibly meant a year & a half between scans - NOT good when your sarcoma was high grade with nomograms predicting a more than 50% chance of metastasis within 10 years!

In the end, I decided to go, having my mom drive me, which was a lot safer than taking local transit ride sharing options, as she is part of my cohort & we only see each other. Still, I insisted she stay in the car just to keep her as safe as possible.  While she insists on doing her own grocery shopping, going into a hospital or clinic is a whole other story.

Prior to my scans, I had the usual pre-CT bloodwork.  Words cannot express how impressed I am with my local healthcare’s response to COVID-19 & efforts to keep the rest of us safe who still require medical care.  Not only was there a guy screening people as they entered, he also held the door for me & squirted sanitizer into my hands, so I didn’t have to touch anything!  As the queen of Purell, this made my day!  Once  inside the clinic, they were kind enough to exchange my mask for a newer one, as I was wearing one left over from my post-chemo days.  It was a fresh one, of course, but I wasn’t sure if they expire and neither were the clinic staff, so we figured better to be safe.   Next I was whisked into the back room straight away to have my blood-work done, so I didn’t even have to sit down in the waiting room - something I would’ve been reluctant to do anyway.

Of course, all staff wore PPE, which made me feel more at ease about being there.  At that time, estimates of COVID deaths were between 1 to 4%.   Coming to terms with my own mortality over the past five years being a cancer survivor  has been enough to wrap my head around, never mind the added threat of a pandemic not only to myself but my loved ones.  So yeah, I’m a big proponent of PPE.  Even if you don’think you’re likely to catch it, wearing PPE could be the difference between life & death for someone around you, be it a parent, grandparent or those with compromised immunity.

Two weeks later, came all my imaging appointments, ALL in one day!  First time in five years that’s ever happened, as they’re usually spread out on multiple dates & locations!  It made for a long day, but it was nice to get them all over & done with - or so I thought.  More on that later.  Entering the hospital was quite the experience.  Unlike the clinic which had just the one checkpoint, the hospital had three!  First came the screening questions, next the contactless temperature check, and finally the hand sanitizer station!  Other than the PPE-clad entourage at the one of only two entrances that were open, the halls were unusually bare.  The only other people there - and I do mean the ONLY people - besides essential medical staff & workers were those with appointments & in-hospital patients.  No visitors, no one wandering the hallways.  Basically, you went in, did what you came for & got OUT, which suited me just fine.  The less time spent there, the better! Which reminds me...  The Friday before my scans, I got a call asking if it’d be okay if they moved them closer together, so that I didn’t have to spend three hours between scans at the hospital.  Naturally I jumped at their offer!

Like the clinic, all the CT & MRI techs wore PPE as well, and I was even allowed to wear my mask  during my MRIs, which was a relief,  as they often make you remove certain types of clothing, usually items with metal such as zippers & earrings, but still, I wasn’t sure if the tiny metal wire in my mask would be an issue.  Fortunately, it wasn’t.

Finally, two weeks after all that, I had my telephone consult - albeit not with my regular sarcoma specialist that did my surgery, which I was NOT thrilled about, but so far so good on my results.  However, my CT  suggested thyroid nodules increasing in size, despite the measurements quoted indicating the opposite, which is odd.  Still the radiologist suggested additional elective imaging.  Although the oncologist agreed to proceed just to be on the safe side, it was ONLY because I pointed it out! You see, there is a reason I was not happy to get that particular doctor!  He’s the one I got once before when mine was away who prefers as few scans as possible, so had I not read my own results, this could’ve been missed.  He was more than happy to say everything is fine & leave it at that in spite of the radiologist suggesting further imaging.  I’ve heard numerous stories from fellow sarcoma patients & survivors who’ve had to fight for additional scans, and it has saved if not prolonged their lives.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, BE YOUR OWN ADVOCATE!  READ YOUR OWN SCANS!  That being said, thyroid nodules are only found to be malignant 5% of the time, so there’s a 95% chance they’re benign, plus it’s a region MRCLS rarely spreads to.  Consequently, I’ve made a point not to worry too much about it - something I’ve gotten better at over the past five years, I must say!  Still,  I’d rather air on the side of caution, as there have been a few  very rare cases of MRCLS spreading to the thyroid, and what if I’m one of the unlucky 5%?   Being a sarcoma survivor, I’m already a walking-talking rarity with a lifetime of beating the odds, so best to rule it out.

Fast-forwarding six weeks - had my thyroid ultrasound a few days ago, and once again, the waiting room was a ghost town, with the added touch of “seat unavailable” signs on every second & third chair to encourage social distancing.  Even during my ultrasound, I was able to wear my mask, despite the thyroid being located in the neck.  I just had to move the bottom of my mask up a bit.  I’m also very happy to say, the ultrasound was relatively painless - in other words, it wasn’t an internal ultrasound like the ones I had for my ovarian cysts they’d  been monitoring, which, by the way, have substantially shrunk for the first time in five years - something I attribute to my recent adoption of IF. More on that in an upcoming post.  However, it wasn’t without some discomfort, as the tech had to press down on my thyroid a number of times - an irony that was not lost on me nor the tech, as I‘m of mixed race & details of George Floyd’s murder by a police officer had recently come out.  I couldn’t help but wonder with heartfelt sadness about his last moments all throughout my scan.   Your death was not in vain, dear George, as the world is finally really HEARING & acknowledging the racial injustices going on over the past 400 years.  R.I.P., Mr. floyd. 🙏🏽 #BlackLivesMatter

The following week, I picked up my  results to discover two of the nodules need even further testing.  As a cancer patient & survivor, you get used to having to play the waiting game, so here we go again.  While I have numerous nodules, they noted four in particular,  presumably the largest ones.  While two  don’t require followup, the other two unfortunately do, with the largest being recommended for biopsy & the other with followup scans in a year.  Great...NOT!  While my initial biopsy of my thigh five years ago didn’t hurt, the needle going into my muscle sure did!  As you can imagine, I’m even less thrilled at the thought of having a needle poked into my neck! I’ll be awake for the procedure, but the sarcoma nurse assures me I’ll have local anesthetic.  Here's hoping the discomfort will be minimal!  Luckily, I’ve experienced local anesthesia before, including major surgery, so I’ve got a rough idea what to expect.

In case you’ve lost count, it’s now been two months since my first batch of annual scans & I still don’t know if everything is okay!  My biopsy isn’t for another month, just passed what is hopefully my fifth anniversary of NED (no evidence of disease).  As many before me have said, sarcoma is a marathon not a sprint, so in the mean time, I’ll just hold on to that 95% chance everything is still okay & hope for the best belated NED-aversary a lumpy girl could ask for!


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Have a sarcoma blog of your own you'd like linked? Feel free to drop me a line or post your link in a comment below. 

Myxoid Liposarcoma: A Letter to the Newly Diagnosed

04/07/19 - Hello, and welcome to the club none of us wanted to join.  If you’re reading this, chances are, you or someone you love has recently been diagnosed with myxoid or myxoid/round cell liposarcoma cancer.  I remember all too well how overwhelming those early days were, so I hope you find this helpful as you start  your journey with this rare cancer many medical professionals have never even heard of, let alone treated.  For that reason, it's important to arm yourself with knowledge & be your own patient advocate.

First, a bit about me...  Four years ago today in 2015, I was diagnosed with myxoid/round cell liposarcoma in my left thigh wrapped around my sciatic nerve,  invading my muscle. Mine was high grade with 25% round cell, measuring 25 x 13 x 8.7 cm.  I had 72 hours of chemo & 10 rounds of radiation, followed six weeks later by  limb sparing surgery & five months of physiotherapy.  My post surgery battle scar runs from my butt to the back of my knee, but at least I still have my leg & my life, so it could be worse!  I am by no means a medical expert.  The information below is simply a compilation of what I’ve learned from my own experience, my oncologist and the online liposarcoma community over the past four years.

If you haven’t already, please join the two main liposarcoma FB groups, where you will find more specific info for the myxoid liposarcoma subtypes.

• Liposarcoma Survivors

• Liposarcoma Q&A

There is also a Friends & Family Fighting Myxoid Liposarcoma FB group, but it‘s less active, since most of us are in the other two groups.

Please keep in mind, liposarcoma is one of over 50 types of sarcoma, and there are five subtypes of liposarcoma divided into three categories:

• myxoid [MLS] & myxoid/round cell [MRCLS]

• well-differentiated [WD] & dedifferentiated [DD]

• pleomorphic [PLS]

Each subtype responds differently to treatment, so it’s important to only compare yourself to others with the same subtype.  Also please note,  myxofibrosarcoma & myxoid chondrosarcoma are NOT related to any of the myxoid liposarcoma subtypes, so do NOT compare yourself to these sarcomas.

Myxoid & WD liposarcoma are low grade (less likely to spread), whereas MRCLS, DD & pleomorphic liposarcoma are all high grade (more likely to recur or spread).  Most MLS & MRCLS metastasis & local recurrences occur within five years of surgery,  with a smaller cluster occurring at the 7-10 year mark.  However, I've even come across survivors whose distant mets occurred 11 years after surgery.  Consequently, the sarcoma community as a whole tends to use the term NED (no evidence of disease) rather than "cancer free", as it's quite possible the cancer is still present but not yet visible on scans.  In fact, this term is often used on our scan reports themselves.  Roughly 30% of cases with the myxoid subtypes lead to recurrence or distant metastasis.

MLS & MRCLS are said to be more responsive to radiation and chemo compared to other liposarcomas. Both are treated with radiation & surgery, however, chemo is often reserved for the high grade  MRCLS variant & those with larger tumours, so it’s important to know your round cell percentage, which can be found on your pathology report. Five percent or greater is considered high grade & more aggressive, whereas less than five percent is classified as low grade.

Although there are always exceptions (sarcomas can occur anywhere in the body), Myxoid, myxoid/round cell & pleomorphic often originate in the extremities (limbs), whereas WD & DD often start in the abdomen.  If you’ve been diagnosed with myxoid in the abdomen & there’s no sign of it elsewhere, you may want to seek a second opinion, as it’s possible it may instead be WD or DD liposarcoma.

Unlike other cancers where you're considered to be in remission after five years, liposarcoma patients should be monitored for life, but especially for the first 10 years following surgery. Typically in the US & Canada, the first two to three years consist of CT scans of chest/abdomen/pelvis or chest x-rays every three to four months, sometimes alternating to reduce radiation exposure.  At the two or three-year mark, this frequency often decreases to every six months, and then from five years on, scans are yearly up until at least the 10 year mark.  An MRI of original site for extremity liposarcoma survivors is also recommended, but frequency & scan types vary depending on where you live. In the US, MRIs tend to be ordered every three months For the first 2 to 3 years, every six months till the five year mark & annually after that.  However, in countries with public healthcare systems, such as Canada, UK & Australia, scan frequency varies due to cost.  In fact, some patients have had to fight just to get MRI scans at all. With MLS & MRCLS, a spinal MRI is also recommended every one or two years to check for spinal mets, especially for those with myxoid/round cell. Update: In the UK, CT scans tend to be reserved for more high risk cases, with lower risk individuals getting chest x-rays instead.  Many thanks to Kate & Rachel for the UK info!  CT scans are more effective at detecting smaller mets, however, they result in more radiation exposure.  I've noticed the US seems to order the highest amount of CTs compared to other countries.  Here in Canada at my highest frequency, even as high risk, I was getting chest x-rays every four months substituted once annually with a CT scan in order to reduce radiation exposure. I've always had annual MRIs of my thigh but didn't start getting spinal MRIs until about two years in once it became known that MRIs are more effective than bone scans at detecting bone mets. 

When MLS or MRCLS is suspected in the limbs, a core needle biopsy is used to confirm subtype & grade.  This is important for determining the treatment plan, especially if receiving chemo or radiation before surgery.  According to the National Cancer Institute in the US, contrary to popular belief, biopsy seeding is a myth.  However, if the tumour is smaller than 5cm or radiation &/or chemo are going to be done after surgery, sometimes a biopsy is skipped in favour of a post-surgery pathology report.  The problem with this, however, is the round cell percentage often can't be determined after tumour removal due to tumour necrosis from pre-surgery radiation treatment.

Please know, you did not cause this cancer.  To date, sarcoma experts have not found any link between sarcomas & diet, weight, exercise,  lifestyle or even family history.  In fact, many sarcoma patients live healthy lifestyles & there are even several professional athletes amongst our lumpy alumni.  MLS & MRCLS tend to be diagnosed in younger adults in their 30s, 40s & 50s, and there are even rare instances of children getting these subtypes.  According to the Canadian Cancer Society, only 45% of cancers are preventable, which means the other 55% aren't, and liposarcoma is amongst that 55%.  To quote my oncologist, it was just bad luck.

Last but not least, it's important to be seen by a sarcoma specialist, as most general oncologists have never even seen or treated a case of sarcoma.  According to many research studies, when surgeries are not  performed by  sarcoma specialists, likelihood of local recurrence & distant metastasis significantly increases.  There are many liposarcoma patients whose tumours were misdiagnosed as benign lipomas, and as a result were removed with inadequate margins the first time  around, resulting in the need for a second  surgery in an attempt to reduce likelihood of early recurrence and/or metastasis.  If not possible to attend a high-volume sarcoma centre, your oncologist should in the very least closely consult with an experienced sarcoma specialist at a large cancer centre.  Be sure to ask your medical team lots of questions, and don’t be afraid to seek a second opinion . It could save your life.

Many thanks to those on the Liposarcoma Survivors FB group for all your support & wealth of knowledge over the past four years.  I'd also like to thank the sarcoma specialists who donate their free time to answer questions on the Q&A group, and my own medical team for saving my leg & my life.  I'll find out later this month if my luck continues.  For those whose journeys ended far too soon, I dedicate this post in your honour.  These are just a few of the fallen warriors who've helped me in some form along the way - Jeff L., Amy K., Teresa B., Kathy H. & Matthew S.   Also, big hugs & huge thanks to my fellow survivors Erica, Ruth Mc. & Elisa, as well as Dr. Tseng, who everyone wishes was on their medical team, including me!  :)

Thanks for reading! :) If you enjoyed this post, please help spread #SarcomaAwareness by sharing it on Twitter or Facebook using the buttons below. You can also subscribe to this blog using the links on the left.

Have a sarcoma blog of your own that you'd like linked? Feel free to drop me a line or post your link in a comment below.

Three Years Ago Today...

07/10/18 - Exactly three years ago today, I had a 25x13x8.7cm round cell/myxoid liposarcoma (MRCLS) cancer tumour removed from my left thigh. Besides leaving a 10” scar, sarcoma forever changes you in ways the eye can’t see. Like many life altering events, there is life before sarcoma & life after. We have a saying in the sarcoma community, sarcoma is a marathon, not a sprint. Over the past three years, there have been times where I wondered if I would ever get to this crucial point. With sarcomas being so rare & many survivors never having met another person with the same sarcoma subtype, the online sarcoma community has become very close knit. Since my diagnosis, several fellow survivors whose journey started out quite like mine have lost the battle due to their MRCLS returning with a vengeance, which makes me all the more grateful to reach three years with NED (no evidence of disease). I still have to be monitored for life, as sarcoma can return many years later (i.e., 7, 8 & even 11 years in some cases), but I take comfort in the fact that many cases of mets (metastasis) occur in the first three years for my subtype, so three years is a huge milestone.

So much has happened since my diagnosis. While in the middle of cancer treatment, I was laid off my job of nearly two decades, which was a bit of a mixed blessing, as it gave me time to heal & process everything. While 2015 was spent recovering physically, 2016 was spent recovering emotionally. Still, the winds of change continued over the past year with the relief & challenge of finally finding a new job, and the heartbreak of losing my two older dogs who passed away five months apart. Throughout all this, some bonds have strengthened while others have been broken. But with mom, my youngest remaining dog & good friends by my side, both new & old, I have come through. :)

To be honest, for the past three years, I have in many ways been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I refuse to do that anymore. Sure, it’s always at the back of my mind that it could return when I least expect it (there is no blood test & often no symptoms with sarcoma), but something changed in me this year. I don’t know if it was witnessing the passing of my two older fur-babies or just the process of time, but I've decided that life is for the living, so I am going to move forward until the universe decides otherwise. Deciding to get another dog was the first step towards this, and I am so excited to have Molko join our little family later this summer! During the months following my diagnosis, Placebo’s music was the only thing that could take my mind away from it all & give me some kind of peace, so what better way to honour that than by naming my newest fur-baby after the singer whose lyrics mirror my soul. Placebo was also the soundtrack to my five months of physio that followed, when my sole purpose in life was to recover well enough to make it to their 20th anniversary tour! Well, I guess you could say I succeeded & then some, as I just came back from my third trip this tour, three weeks before my third NED anniversary. Seeing my favourite band in a historic city with amazing friends, it doesn’t get much better than that! :)

Next big milestone: 10 years! Better start saving my travel points now! ;)  Meanwhile, I'm just happy to graduate to six-month scans (previously every four months)! :) 

#SarcomaSurvivor, #SarcomaAwareness, #LifeIsWhatYouMakeIt, #Placebo30

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2017: Surviving the Winds of Change

01/04/18 - 2017 has been filled with much change for me. While it began with great uncertainty & an ever intensifying job search with endless resume edits, workshops & cover letters, I also managed to squeeze some fun into the mix. Besides enjoying time with friends & family, I went on a few epic walks around several local parks & we enjoyed the hottest Summer we’ve had in nearly 100 years! It was also the nation’s 150th birthday, soI feel grateful to have been around to celebrate that!

In May, I began my first ever charity fundraiser in anticipation of my second remission anniversary from sarcoma cancer, raising 87.5% of my goal, thanks to the help of friends, family & CanadaHelps, despite many of them being out of work due to a major recession, which I’m happy to say is finally starting to lift!

The following month, I finally got the break I had been waiting for on the job front when I learned all my hard work on my crazy five-part job application submission was just the right amount of crazy to get me the position, which I started later in the summer. If I never see another resume or cover letter again, it’ll be too soon! Having been away from the workforce for 2.5 years due to my battle with liposarcoma cancer AND being laid off while in the middle of treatment, it was a huge adjustment returning to work, but it’s going well, and I even managed to get two commendations in my first two months! Not bad for this 40-something post-chemo survivor who was nearly 20 years younger the last time she started a new job!

Prior to returning to work, I got the all clear for my July scans! :) Although my spinal MRI did find I have mild scoliosis & spondylosis, at least it’s not bone mets, so I’ll take it! My good luck continued with my November chest x-ray also showing NED (no evidence of disease). *knock on wood*. Next batch of scans are the big ones - annual chest/abdomen/pelvic CT scan & MRI of my leg in February, 2018. I always get a little extra nervous for these two, since there’s always the chance that the CT scan could catch something the x-rays missed, plus with the MRI being annual, a lot can happen in a year. As everysarcoma survivor knows, you hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

Meanwhile, after swearing I would NEVER travel to London alone due to an unrelated disability making navigating new places a big challenge, a moment of sheer insanity took over with the announcement of back to back Placebo gigs at the famous Brixton Academy! But with a mix of absolute panic & elation, I took a leap of faith & bought tickets anyway in hopes I’d find a way for it to work out. And that it did, thanks to the village of international Placebo fans who banded together to help me get safely around London! This last “road trip” was also bitter sweet, as it was evident Brian’s chronic tonsillitis had reached a critical point. It was a miracle he managed to even finish the shows, but he did, and for that I am forever grateful. They even managed to create some very cool alternate melodies that his poor tonsils could work with, some of which I actually liked better than the originals. Such talented artists, they are! Placebo is now the band I've seen the most out of any other. Not bad for the girl who waited 13+ years for them to return to her hometown before taking matters into her own hands! I think I have more than made up for those 13 years! 😂 Their music was a major lifeline during my battle with sarcoma, so I feel very fortunate to have attended so many shows of their 20th anniversary tour. This was such a huge win for the bucket list. 

Adding to the year’s theme of chaos, I also had several major home repairs to contend with alongside the stress of returning to work, including major hail damage resulting in the replacement of ALL my home’s siding, a leaking washer, deck & fence painting…AND…after years of saying our summers aren’t long or hot enough to warrant an air conditioner, I finally caved out of necessity. Let’s just say heat-induced sleep deprivation & new job training are NOT a great combo, especially when your post-chemo memory isn’t what it once was.

Needless to say, my assistive technology reviews have taken a seat on the back burner, as I’ve just been too exhausted, stressed or both to do many this year. Despite this, to my shock & amazement, my subscribers have nearly doubled! I started the project a month after finishing five gruellingmonths of post-surgery physio just to see if I could do it despite the challenges of having a disability. Besides keeping me out of trouble while being out of work, it also helped keep my mind off of my cancer. I’ve debated whether or not to keep it going since I’m currently unable to give it the attention it deserves, but you just never know what’s around the corner, so I have decided to continue, even if it just means the occasional update.

Amidst all this, the winds of change grew even stronger as my oldest dog's health suddenly began to decline after YEARS of him always being the healthiest of my dogs. In November, he passed on to the Rainbow Bridge a few months after his 15th birthday & just weeks after my return from the UK. He was my first ever dog, so his loss hit me hard. In fact, losing him was harder than dealing with my own mortality during my battle with sarcoma, as he passed away somewhere between his favourite bed & my arms an hour before the house-call vet was to put him down. A piece of my heart died that night, but I am finally getting to the point where I can remember the good times & focus on the fact he had a good long happy life.

When you witness a loved one die, it changes you. I find myself talking to his urn everyday just to say how much he is missed. I like to think of him as my little fluffy guardian angel, despite being an agnostic atheist. Perhaps I’m more on the agnostic side than I’d like to admit. :) It also brings the point home that nothing lasts forever, and good health or not, cancer or remission, eventually the day will come when each & every one of us is just gone. Just like that, one moment we’re here, the next we’re gone. It’s just so damn final, yet life continues with or without us. Somehow, this experience has given me a strange sense of comfort in facing my own mortality. It just makes me appreciate all the more the time I do have right now while I am still in remission.

Last but not least, after seven wonderful years, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to step away from my bowling family, in order to balance the demands of my many medical appointments alongside my new job. So yeah, the only thing constant this year was change, but I survived, and amazingly so has my other senior dog who just turned 15 after totally beating the odds he was given four years ago! It’s been a crazy year, which I’m sure glad to see the back of! But I am grateful for the little things, because life is short & things can change in an instant. Case in point, our little Facebook group lost another one of our lumpy alumni right around Christmas. She fought the same subtype of liposarcoma as me, but sadly after 15 years of multiple distant mets, she lost the battle.  The fact we had the same subtype in the same location, both with clear margins post surgery really makes her passing hit home, knowing I have this ticking time-bomb inside of me that could rear its head at any time when I least expect it. But then I look at my amazing little dog who has totally beaten the odds, and it gives me hope that perhaps I will be one of the lucky 50% who does the same.

Until my next update, here’s to calmer tides for each & every one of us in 2018!

Thanks for reading! :) If you enjoyed this post, please help spread #SarcomaAwareness by sharing it on Google+, Twitter or Facebook using the buttons below. You can also subscribe to this blog using the links on the left.

Have a sarcoma blog of your own that you'd like linked? Feel free to drop me a line or post your link in a comment below.