It’s been 466 days since my last post. Not a fleeting moment or a mere month, but 466 days of silence on this blog. I’ve been writing privately, pouring thoughts onto paper, but sharing here has felt overwhelming. My dear friends have reached out with kind texts and gentle nudges, checking if I’m still holding on. I am, and their care means the world to me. Revisiting the past year and a half feels like a heavy task, but I’m ready to reconnect with you all. I promise to do better.
My Cancer Journey
Living with cancer is a rhythm of routines and resilience. Every three weeks, I visit Mayo Clinic for blood work and an injection that keeps my treatment on track. Every four months, I face the hum of PET scans to check my body and MRIs to monitor my brain. Each day, I swallow a handful of cancer and nausea medications, a quiet ritual to keep my life as steady as possible. These 466 days have largely been stable, a gift I don’t take for granted.
In February 2025, a PET scan brought a jolt of fear when it detected metabolic metastatic activity in my left femur. My oncologist, ever vigilant, scheduled a follow-up scan three months later to watch for any growth or tumor development. By God’s grace, the results showed stability—no changes, no progression. The activity remains in my bone marrow, but it’s holding steady. (These are my words, my layperson’s understanding, not a doctor’s diagnosis.) I’m still here, still fighting, and deeply grateful for every day.
Mason’s Milestones
My son, Mason, is now a sophomore in high school. Time has slipped by so quickly. He was just in fifth grade when he first grappled with the news of my cancer, facing uncertainties no child should have to bear. Yet, he’s navigated our new normal with remarkable kindness and grace. I’m endlessly proud of him.
Mason’s Scouting journey is reaching a pinnacle. He’s on the cusp of earning his Eagle Scout rank, having completed his Eagle Scout project this summer. He’s now tying up loose ends and preparing to present his work to the Regional Scouting Council this fall. He’s eager, ready, and we couldn’t be prouder of his dedication.
This summer, Mason also embarked on another High Adventure Camp with his Scout troop, portaging along the Canadian border in Minnesota for ten unforgettable days. He returned stronger, wiser, and richer in experience, carrying stories of adventure and growth, not to mention a thousand mosquito bites!
Jamie’s Success
Jamie’s Medicare business is flourishing. He’s welcomed many new clients and continues to find deep fulfillment in helping others, a joy he never found in the corporate world. His gift for connection and care shines brightly, and I’m so happy for his success. We also celebrated a milestone birthday of his, one can guess, but let’s just say it was worth celebrating! A group of friends and their spouses joined us for a weekend getaway filled with laughter and memories. Jamie deserved every moment of it, and we made unforgettable memories together.
The Hard Stuff
Why the 466-day gap? I’ve been wrestling with a heavy heart. I’ve had a painful falling out with my brother, and we haven’t seen each other in two years. Our last phone call was in the summer of 2024. Without sharing the raw details, the loss feels like a kind of death. I hope with all my heart that he’s found happiness, though my gut aches with doubt. My late sister-in-law, Jackie, would be heartbroken to know this. Losing such a vital part of my family has been devastating, and it’s taken me time to find the strength to share this publicly.
The Bright Spots
Despite the pain, I’m surrounded by love that anchors me. Jamie, Mason, and an incredible circle of girlfriends form a support system that feels like a lifeline. I feel so fortunate to have such close friends at this stage of life, many of whom have entered my world in the last five years. Their presence is nothing short of a blessing.
Looking Ahead
As we step into fall, I’m committing to being a more consistent voice for you, my readers. I’ll show up, share more, and do better. Can’t we all? Thank you for staying with me through the silence and for walking alongside me on this journey.
Renee, it’s great to get your update. Obviously you’re dong that “one day at a time” thing which we can all appreciate. As I’ve said before you are the toughest lady I know. Please know that Helen and I send our love to you Jamie and Mason. Stay strong girl… I know you will 💕
I’m reading a book called “cancer was not a gift and it didn’t make me a better person“ by Nancy Stordahl. I have also written my own book of poetry called “given time: a mother daughter cancer memoir” . I join you in the firm belief that writing about our cancer journeys is a way to reclaim the humanity beneath
them. Thank you for sharing your post with us today. Glad you are back!