moirahoran

I’ve been very transparent from day one of my journey. Why? Because it helps me process what’s happening and it gives it all a purpose. It’s like so many other things in life — you learn a lot and then never have an opportunity to use the practical skills again. If even just one iota of my journey helps one other person then it’s had a purpose, if it gives someone hope it gives me hope. So I’ve taken every opportunity I’ve been presented with to share my story.

It’s why I’ve blogged about it. It’s why when Emma — the CEO of Caddis — called and asked if I’d participate in their breast cancer awareness campaign I didn’t hesitate and said yes. It was hard. I’m not an actress, a model or a public speaker. It was hard to bare my worst days in front of a bunch of strangers — photographers, videographers, light techs, etc. It was emotional to remember those hard days. Somehow they brought it out. And it made me grateful at the end of the day, all of us went through our own version of hell and came out the other side.

I will never forget the day Emma reached out to me — she’s one of my daughter’s friends and at the time was in her early 30s and the mother of two young girls. She texted me and said “I just joined the shittiest club in the world that you are a member of too.” It took a bit for it to register what she was saying and I was at a loss for words. She was so young and so were her children and her husband. I was 61 when I was diagnosed. I certainly wasn’t ready to die but i also realized i had lived a full life. My daughter was grown and married. I wasn’t leaving babies to cope with an ill or even worse, no mother. I made an impact in the world of women’s sports — i encouraged more women than i can count to feel enough confidence to put there feet on a start line and complete their first triathlon. Over 8 years and I still thank God every day for all the blessings in my life. The older I am and the more I’ve gone through the more my spirituality has deepened. It’s not me asking God for help, it’s me saying thank you for each day and each blessing I’m given.

This is not just another “pink ribbon” campaign. Caddis is donating 25% of the proceeds of the sale of these special edition glasses to “Stand Up To Cancer”.  Their mission is to raise awareness and fund research to detect and treat cancers with the aspiration to cure all patients.  

Please consider buying a pair of these pink glasses, it could help save a life and ensure that no one has to go hear the words “you have cancer” again in our future!  

Today was an important day in so many ways. I just got another 3 month full body scan and all was clear. I had a pulmonologist visit and he told me my lung capacity went from 79% six months ago to 88%. And in general I just feel all around “good”.

I’ve been running again. Slow — but I feel a little bit of my old self when I get out there, it’s not always such a struggle. A little bit of swimming, and yesterday I got back out on my bike and that wasn’t a total struggle either.

Today I participated in the Tunnel to Towers run in NYC with Team Shamrock. I got back to participating two years ago and both times were a struggle. Today was the two year anniversary of me ending up in the emergency room at MSK and the discovery that I had a brain metastasis that would require surgery. This year — I pretty much ran the whole tunnel. Stopped twice because my heart rate was getting a bit high, it was so hot! Especially after we stood for two hours in the blazing sun near the stinky porta johns with no water. Definitely a negative which needs to be addressed. But I ran, even though it was slow. I didn’t feel like I was going to die and I was able to breathe easily. It’s something most of us take for granted but I don’t.

I used to scan the banners when we got out of the tunnel to see the faces of all the members of the FDNY that we knew that were lost on 9/11. Today I scanned the faces of the guys holding those banners . . . to see the guys my husband used to work with and were like family to us for so many years. Seeing all the young members of different military programs next, holding the banners with names of all the military lost after 9/11 makes me so sad, but gives me hope for humanity. There are still young adults who care about the future of our country and are willing to put in some hard work.

It was a big day for me, more than anyone realized. I was grateful to finish feeling good. It was better than any of my PRs, Boston, NYC Marathon or Kona qualifications. It’s a glimpse of the old me. More to come! Thanks to all the old friends I saw today and to all the new friends that were there to support me and enjoy the day.

Never stop fighting!

After the chaos of October and November I’ve had nothing to complain about. Heart issues seem to have resolved and I’ve had 2 clear three month scans. It’s been three years since my diagnosis, next scans are in August.

I was at MSK today for some routine blood work. I saw an older man in a wheelchair with who I assumed was his son. The son was doing his best to be upbeat. The father was so beaten down and obviously in misery. I remembered how that felt, and I counted my blessings. I wanted to say something but I couldn’t find any words.

I hope I never forget how lucky I am, each day is a gift.

“Right now, you are cancer free”. This from my medical oncologist at my appointment on February 20th.

My recent battle with lung cancer with some brain metastasis started three years ago; my initial journey with breast cancer started 7 years ago. That’s a lot of appointments, treatments, scans, and more. And I’m still on an every three month brain MRI and body PET and CT scan schedule but I can deal with that. Especially since right now I’m cancer free. I do know that it will come back one day. But today isn’t that day.

I don’t really have anything else to say, I’m still processing this information but in the meanwhile I will continue to live as best as I can and continue to appreciate the gifts that God keeps giving me.

I picked this up after my appointment, they make me smile! Thank you @shaynaull

The brain surgery was a success, according to the surgeon. “Will it come back?” “No, that will not come back” I didn’t ask the next question — “is it likely another brain metastasis will happen?” I’m either staying positive or avoiding the issue. Surgery was four weeks ago. Initial radiation setup was two weeks ago. They made me this lovely mask which will hold me immobile for the radiation. My claustrophobia is out in full force!

We started out with five radiation treatments on the schedule but that’s been changed to three. Doctor said less treatments but more intense. Just hoping that doesn’t mean more side effects, but he’s said there shouldn’t be any.

I’ve had to get used to letting people help me, which if you know me at all you know that isn’t easy. I’m not really supposed to drive — i had a week between surgery and radiation where the doctor said to drive local. I’ve had to get help cooking, doing laundry and other simple chores because I get tired easily. I can’t bend over and I can’t pick up anything heavy — initially five pounds but now twenty pounds. Since Blue is 11 pounds it made walking him (up and down the steps which he can’t manage) a challenge.

I’ve got food from friends, puzzles, new knitting projects and (hopefully) back to mah jongg. The doctors told me to challenge myself, I see it as keeping busy. I wonder if I can manage another marathon and another full Ironman. I want to get back on my bike and back in the pool. I see people running and I miss it! I was just starting to feel good about working out when all this started back up. I have new running shoes, a new bike and a new kick board that needs using.

Trying to keep out the negativity, how long can i do that? There has been mention of side effects. I’m not focusing on them, but … just the couple of days in the hospital were frightening. I couldn’t write, i couldn’t remember how to do super-simple things like use the phone, the microwave and how to drive. i mean like remember to close the door – i mean like i need keys and to close a door.

i am fiercely independent and used to being able to take care of what i need to do to accomplish my goals.

what am i dealing with?

BRAIN: New left middle frontal gyrus metastasis at 2.3 x 1.8 cm associated with marked subjacent edema and mass effect extends to the corona radiata and left precentral gyrus. Slight rightward midline shift at 0.2 cm. Unchanged treated metastasis in the right cingulate gyrus.
No acute hydrocephalus, intracranial hemorrhage or infarct.

Sounds simple enough to just go in and take it out, right?

I started noticing some cognitive decline a week ago. Last Thursday I had a scheduled MRI with anesthesia. The test was scheduled in the same day as the UN general assembly, making for a disastrous commute. Plus MSK made a mistake and my tests were not scheduled as planned.

Simple things were getting difficult like writing and knowing I need to turn the light out. By Wednesday morning I couldn’t couldn’t control my right side. I have a lesion 2.3 x 1.8 cm on the left side of my brain. This will be addressed with a procedure on Wednesday October 2023.

It’s very hard for me to formulate thoughts, bear with me please and send prayers and good thoughts.

I don’t like to post when I don’t have answers. And I’m not looking for sympathy while I wait. But, Friday was a tough day. I had my brain CT on Wednesday. I read the report on Thursday when it was posted. And I knew what was next. Some areas of concern in my brain. And something grew. .4 cm. But still grew. Not what they treated but the surrounding area. Maybe treatment related. But still of concern. So now we wait for an MRI to be scheduled. Under anesthesia because I’m claustrophobic. and then waiting for results. So more weeks of worry. I realized on Friday after I saw my doctor that my life may consist of three month increments forever.

What really kicked me in the ass was when I went back and read the CT scan results again after I met with my doctor. I saw something I hadn’t noticed before. And no one mentioned it. I didn’t understand what “Chronic right caudate infarction”meant. So I sent a message and my doctor called me. Apparently at some point I’ve had a stroke. So. 12 Ironmans, 26 marathons and living a fairly healthy lifestyle and this is where I’m at. I guess if I wasn’t I’d be dead by now.

I’m sorry but on Friday I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. I didn’t share how I felt with anyone. I actually cried a bit after I met with my doctor. A kind of “why me” scenario.

And then, some really random messages came in. First up – my dear friend Lizzie sent me this text: “Your ears must have been burning today and last night. Up here in Lake Placid with DMoss and Celeste. …We have been talking so much abt all we learned in our LP trips with you! 🙃

Next I saw a post in our Fxck Cancer Endurance Club group from my friend Marci. “Thank you for turning this runner into a triathlete turned cyclist. I think of you every time I clip in and start riding.”

Then there was Grayden – a 4 year old at our club the other night. I held the door for him and his pregnant mom. He looked up at me and said, from the bottom of his heart, “thank you old lady”. Two days later and I’m still laughing,

So we haven’t solved my stressors but — Lizzie, Diane, Celeste, Marci, Melissa, Ran and Grayden —thank you from the bottom of my heart 😘😘😘. And the moral to my story is, if you have something nice to say to someone then say it. You never know how much it might mean.