Back In High School…

Today was the big day. I barely slept last night as I anticipated my first public speaking event without Renee. And it wasn’t just any event. I was going back to my old high school. The school I was attending when I was sexually assaulted. My heart was racing as I watched the senior class file in. At first it seemed like there were thousands of them as they all filed through one door to sit down in the auditorium. But as everything started to calm down and the kids were seated in the darkened auditorium it didn’t seem so bad. My nerves were still keeping me on edge right up to the point where my name was introduced as the guest speaker. But as I began to look out at the crowd and started to tell my story, it was as if a wave of calmness came over me. And once I had started the words just flowed out smoothly. Once it was over, I had the opportunity to speak to some former teachers and coaches in attendance. The conversations were pretty much the same. They focussed on they wish they knew. They wish I had said something. And that mixed emotion of sad that I had to experience what I did but happy to see that I am able to share my experience and hopefully help others. 

I’m proud to say I made it through the whole experience without shedding a tear. Until the end. When all was said and done the first person I looked to call was Renee. And when Mrs. Mooney the director of Melrose Alliance Against Violence who put together the assembly asked me how I felt after the experience…I had to admit that what was hardest was not actually speaking to a group of strangers about something so personal, but not having Renee around for support. And admitting that forced me to choke back tears. As I slowly have begun to continue to fall back into a somewhat normal routine of life, I have come to realize just how much a part of my every day routine Renee was involved in. And it’s ever more apparent why it’s been such a slow and painful grieving process. Renee was my rock. My number one fan. My mother when I needer her to be, and my best friend. And as much as I still stand by that her being with me in spirit just isn’t the same, I know for a fact she was with me this morning in that auditorium as I got up in front of a hundred or so senior class students and let them see the emotional and personal side of Kate I usually save for paper, and shared with them why they can’t go on believing it could never happen to them. Because it can. And it happened to me…

 

Most of you are here just because you have to be. It’s a way to get out of class. You’re sitting there texting your friend three rows behind you. Checking your FaceBook. Listening to your iPod. Hoping to catch up on some sleep you missed last night. Well let me wake you up.

I was you. A few years ago, I was a student here. I walked around the halls here thinking I was invincible. I was the type of kid that noticed no boundaries. I didn’t care if you were a jock or a band geek or dyed your hair blue, I could get along with anyone. Everyone knew my name. You can even go into the main office and my name is on a plaque. I thought I was friggin awesome. And no one could tell me otherwise. But the truth is I’m not invincible. No one is. Everyone thinks, “oh it could never happen to me.” But it can. It happened to me.

My name is Kate, and I’m a sexual assault survivor.

It was my sophomore year here at MHS. I was 16, and didn’t have the most fantastic home life. It wasn’t terrible by any standard but it also wasn’t ideal. I had lost my dad a few years back and it really took a toll on the family dynamics. My dad was the glue. Without him, we were destine to fall to pieces. My mom’s way of dealing with losing her husband was to not deal with it. There were no discussions. To this day we still have questions about the cancer, why it took him so quickly, and just what the hell happened. I hated being home. So I spent as little time as possible there. I engrossed myself in various activities. If I wasn’t playing a sport I was keeping book for one. I worked as many hours as I could up at the Hilltop and was a fairly popular babysitter in my neighborhood. And when I wasn’t doing any of the above mentioned activities, like most teenagers, I liked to have fun with my friends. The night I was assaulted started out like any other night. It was May, the end of the school year. I had just finished work for the day and the last place I wanted to go was home. So I decided to go look for some fun at a party. I got there and we were all having a good time. I had a few drinks, took a few pills. I felt like I was floating. When I lost track of my friends I didn’t really think much of it. I was too caught up in my high to really care what was going on around me. When I had had enough I went looking for a place to come down. I asked a guy I thought knew my friends if there was anywhere I could chill. He didn’t answer at first. Just stared at me. When I turned away from him he grabbed me and told me he knew a place. I followed him into the basement. Alone. Too much in a stupor to realize all the warning signs. There was a couch in the far corner. I sat down. And the next thing I know this kid is on top of me. And I kept saying no. Over and over. Just no. And trying to get up but I couldn’t. I was frozen. He told me not to fight it, that he knew that I wanted him. And I couldn’t move. Frozen. I couldn’t even cry. I was just laying there. Laying there as he took my pants off. Laying there as he laughed, laughed, when he realized he took my virginity. I kept thinking in my head this isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. I tried to scream but he had his hand basically shoved inside my mouth. I just wanted to disappear. When he finished he just casually got up. Like it was nothing. Got dressed, looked back at me, and just walked up the stairs. I don’t know how long I laid there afterwards. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know. I just remember that I suddenly snapped, got dressed, and booked it out of there. I didn’t stop to talk to anyone. I just ran. I just wanted to disappear. And I just wanted the night to be over so I could get on with pretending it didn’t happen.

And that’s what I did. I pretended it didn’t happen. Because that’s the coping mechanism I had learned. When something bad happens, ignore it. Burry it. So I pushed it aside, and buried it so deep I actually thought I could get away with it. I essentially went on living a double life. To everyone around me I was still this kinda crazy, loud, super obnoxious kid bouncing around in different social settings. But inside I was a complete train wreck. And it was starting to haunt me. The nightmares were constant. The inability to be in a relationship. Fear of being touched. But I was so afraid to face the truth I just kept hiding from it. Too full of myself to want to admit that I was not invincible. But in acting that way I let my attacker steal more than just my virginity. He stole my life. And that is no way to live.

For a long time I blamed myself for what happened to me. It was hard for me to grasp that just because I was under the influence didn’t mean that I deserved to be raped. And like you, I had sat through assemblies about sexual assault but never really paid too much attention. Instead of using them as opportunities to reach out for help I just focused more of my energy on pretending it never happened. I spent so much time making sure I was never caught in a vulnerable state that I had rendered myself emotionless out of fear of becoming vulnerable again. I retreated further into myself and spent so much time and effort hiding, I lost who I was for a while. I became more consumed in drugs and I lost respect for myself. I didn’t take care of my body or my health and slowly I dropped off the social scene all together. It wasn’t until I was in college and away from my usual surroundings did I start to come to terms with my reality. I was sitting in a 3 hour lecture for one of my Criminal Justice classes. The topic was defining assaults and sexual assaults. All around the room students were slinging jokes across to each other about rape. It made me sick. I still hadn’t told anyone about my own experience with sexual assault, so I was too afraid to speak up. But I went home that night and and decided ready or not, I needed to be honest with myself. I was scared, I’m not going to lie. But I was just so tired of running and hiding I needed to let the truth come out. I remember looking in the mirror and I didn’t even recognize the person staring back at me. I was pushing 200 pounds, my eyes were hollow. If there was someone inside that body, it wasn’t me. I had spiraled out of control but I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to be ashamed. Most important, I didn’t want to be ashamed anymore.

For me, writing has always been a powerful outlet. So instead of actually going to someone and talking, I decided to blog about my experience. It just felt safer to be protected from the world by my computer screen. Especially where I wasn’t sure exactly how to start a conversation with someone that involved something so personal. Even in writing my blog I wasn’t sure where to start, but as soon as I put my fingertips to the keyboard the words just flowed out. It brought back a lot of anxiety and fear, but at the same time it was freeing. And I remember emailing Mrs. Mooney with the link to the blog and hovering over the send button and finally closed my eyes and poof. The burden was no longer mine and mine alone. What a huge weight lifted off my shoulders that was.

Writing that blog post was probably one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. But I won’t sugarcoat it. Healing has been a long process. A wise woman once told me the only way to get through something is to go through it. That it would be painful, but I would come out on the other side. And it’s true. I didn’t think it was possible. But here I am. Through strength and perseverance I have survived. It hasn’t been easy. I was in a dark place for a long time. Doing anything and everything possible to push the memory of my assault as far out of my head as possible. And like any recovery I’ve had my relapses. Some days I’m completely comfortable without a care in the world and then there are days where I question everyones motives and I’m constantly looking over my shoulder or flinching at the slightest touch. But instead of running away from the uncomfortableness or trying to numb myself to my emotions I continued to work through them by writing in my blog for a while. Then Mrs. Mooney finally convinced me to seek counseling at the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center. Everything I felt I couldn’t possibly feel if I admitted to being raped, I felt. After working with my counselor at BARCC I felt empowered. I felt strong. I felt courageous. For the first time, I really felt that I was going to be okay. Yes, I was raped. Yes, it was a terrible experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. But it was one night of my life. It doesn’t define me. I am strong. And I am successful. And I will continue to grow and heal.

One thing I want to emphasize today to all of you is simply….don’t be me. If you or someone you know is affected by sexual assault, don’t push it aside. Don’t do what I did. There are great resources out there to help you process through it. I lost years of my life in a fog that I didn’t have to. Help was at my fingertips but I was too ashamed. So I guess my message is simple. You don’t have to feel ashamed. It is not your fault. No one asks to be raped just as no one asks to be mugged or robbed. It is not your fault.

The reason why we refer to ourselves as rape survivors and not victims is because through it all, we have survived. Just because I was raped does not make me weak. It does not make me disgusting. And it does not define me as a person. I am more than just a girl who was raped at a party. I am someone’s sister, daughter, cousin, friend, colleague. I am a fitness enthusiast. I am an amateur blogger. The other day my cousin was convinced I was Batman. I can be anything I want to be. Because I am a survivor.

 

Me speaking at MHS senior assembly sharing my story of sexual assault.

Uncharted Waters

I’ve been thinking a lot about Renee recently. It’s strange, just typing her name makes my eyes tear up. I’m overwhelmed, to put it mildly. I spent the afternoon with Madison. Each time we are together saying goodbye seems to take longer and longer. We sat in my car for a good half hour before finally parting ways. It seems always right when it’s about time for me to leave she starts to talk about her mom or ask me questions. It breaks my heart. I wish it were possible for me to wave my magical wand and make everything better. And my heart hurts even more when I can’t find the words to cheer her up. In the back of my mind I always think, Renee would know what to do. If only she were still here. If only there were a way for me to have Madison live with me. If only I could take care of myself so I could take care of Madison. If only I weren’t just 23. Sigh. I really, really, really, really, really miss Renee. And as this week begins the gaping hole in my heart is ever more noticeable… =(

This week I’m entering uncharted waters. As I prepare to speak to a group of high school students about my experience with sexual assault there is a noticeable void. Renee is not here. And forgive me for wanting to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum when I hear the phrase, “She is always with you in spirit.” Because it’s NOT THE SAME DAMN THING! Her spirit doesn’t speak to me with the soothing tone of assurance. I need Renee to talk me through my speech. To bounce ideas off of. To look to for advice. To be the one I fall back on when it’s over and I’m emotionally spent. I’m flying solo. And it makes me very anxious, and incredibly sad.

The last time I shared my story of sexual assault was in September. Before I spoke I consulted with Renee. As per usual, she was full of sage advice and support. I went into the night nervous about how I would feel making myself out to be so vulnerable and emotional. Listening to Renee boost me full of encouragement from her hospital bed pushed me past the anxiety and that night ended up going really well. But it wasn’t the reactions of my audience that struck me the most. If was the reaction of Renee when I went back to the hospital the next day and told her about it. She was miserable, in pain, and half asleep. But as soon as I entered she tried to put on like she was just enjoying a day at the spa because in typical Renee fashion, her own struggles took a back seat to mine. And when I started to tell her about how it went I was thrown off by the look of peace that overcame her grimacing face. She had spent many a nights up with me at all hours talking me out of my dark place when I was processing through accepting I was raped. She was proud at the progress I had made. The look that came over her; it was as if she experienced a wave of relief that maybe I really was going to be ok, but it certainly didn’t stop her from continuing to ask me if I was, and to make me promise I would be, on a daily basis. And of course I told her yes. Every day I told her not to worry about me I’d be just fine. But as Wednesday nears the voice inside my head keeps screaming “I’M NOT OK! I’M NOT OK! I NEED MAMA RENEE!” It’s true what they say. You never appreciate what you have till it’s too late. Renee was truly a blessing in my life. I have never felt as close a connection with someone as I had with her. I miss the feeling of security I had in confiding in her. I miss the comfort of knowing that I never had to call her or text her, she always just knew when I needed a shoulder to lean on and was there. But most of all I miss hearing, “Kate, you got this.” Because right about now, I’m not sure I got this one…

No one can know the heartache unless they themselves experience it…

Two months later and my heart still weighs heavy. And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t stop to cry at least once a day. And to be honest, lately it’s been a lot more than that. I miss my Mama Renee more than words can express. Trying to adjust back to the world outside the hospital has proven difficult. Besides the financial difficulties I’m battling, the every day life has been a constant struggle. Little things throw me off. I can’t even open the netflix homepage without crying. Because it sends me right back to the hospital room. Of spending entire days just sitting on my cot next to Renee watching the entire season of Orange is the New Black, every movie available on instant streaming with Jason Statham in it, and three seasons worth of Dexter. I would watch with my headphones adjusted so that the ear closest to Renee was never fully covered. I listened for the sound of my name. I listened for signs she was in pain. I listened to the beeps of all the machines. And when she could no longer speak I listened for signs she was breathing. And I watched. Always watched with one eye to make sure the blankets were moving in the rhythm of her breaths. And watched to see if she was motioning for ice chips. I can’t get that image out of my head. From when she was no longer able to speak. But she was so desperate for a drink that she’d slowly move her hand to her mouth and motion as if she was drinking. It took every ounce of strength to feed her ice chips without crying. And when she became too weak to swallow, it took even more inner strength not to let the tears flow as she choked on the trickles of water sliding down her throat. Those images. Are burned into my memory. The night I stayed up watching her breaths become further and further apart. I just can’t escape. The image of holding her hand as she left this world. I just can’t shake.

And no one understands the feelings and the emotions that I carry every day except for Herb. And not that I expect people to, but I sure am tired of hearing “it will get better.” Or that “everyone experiences the death of a loved one but they move on.” Or, “you just have to live your life.” Because unless you were there to experience the day in and day out that Herb and I experienced, you could never possibly understand the magnitude of the grief we are experiencing. Or the images that haunt us both. I seriously question every day if I’m going to make it till the next. I feel like a big piece of me died along with Renee. Taking care of Mama Renee gave my life the purpose it lacked. It felt right. It felt like I was meant to do it.  And now I’m just wandering around lost wondering what I’m supposed to do now and what the point is again…

 

Grief

Grief is…complicated. It seems to hit me in waves. I had been in a good groove. I even smiled and laughed genuinely the other day as I rolled around on the floor with Bodie licking my face and the boys taking turns going in for the attack. Ben wanted to be two inches from me all day and even got excited when I offered to let him workout with me. He’s four. We stretched mostly, but for fun I taught him how to grunt when he lifts weights and giggled with him as he did. And fell over with him in a fit of laughs when Bodie’s tail knocked him clean over onto the ground mid lunge. It was a good day.

But then there is today. Another sleepless night last night where my mind wandered and my brain wouldn’t shut off. It seemed when my eyes shut I was back in the hospital with Renee, watching her suffer. Today I am weak. I went through the motions this morning like a zombie. Using all my strength to forcibly smile at a new job orientation that thankfully only lasted a few hours. I instinctively drove to the gym as a safety measure. Figuring a workout would help me regain focus. I was so weak my body trembled as I struggled to get through what should have been a simple workout for me. My arms trembled as I lifted weights far lighter than my norm, and my legs seemed to buckle as I barely kept the elliptical above a 5.0. I spent most of my afternoon in bed, still unable to get any sleep but I felt too weak to move. I could hear Renee’s voice in my head asking me, “did you eat?” But my appetite just isn’t here today. I miss Renee. A lot. And for some reason today it is hitting me harder than usual. I randomly start to cry. My heart aches. I feel empty. I just really miss her…

Renee…You Will Be Missed

Today was the Celebration of Life for Renee. It was bitter sweet. It was nice to meet everyone who I had been talking to via Facebook for the last several months as I shared my journey with Renee with everyone in the prayer group. These last two weeks without Renee have been a struggle. A struggle to re-start life. A struggle to cope. And now that the celebration is over, and I’m sitting here in her apartment surrounded by just a pile of boxes, it is all sinking in, the initial shock is wearing off, and I’m realizing that I will never be the same person I was before. For lack of any other words, I have typed out the speech I had written for today. Although I didn’t present word for word, it’s a more articulate representation of what I tried to say without bursting into tears…

———————-

Now I’m not as witty as Renee, I can’t get up here and give a whole speech written in 80’s and 90’s rap lyrics, but I can sing her praises that’s for sure. But where do I even begin? Renee was  truly an amazing person. Her impact on my life was so monumental I’m not sure I can convey in words just how much I love her, and miss her dearly. I am so very thankful for the friendship I had with Renee and even more so to the family she made me apart of. After my Dad died, I never thought I would ever feel as much pain and sadness again, but I was wrong. Losing Renee was like losing another parent. She was my Mama Bear. My shoulder to cry on. My voice of reason.  And although I am surrounded by so many people who love and care about me, I can’t help but feel lost and alone. There is a huge hole in my heart and a void in my life now that she is gone. But the lessons she taught me I will hold onto forever.

We joke that I am the adopted one. But I truly feel that way. Renee made me feel like family. And in doing so I have established some pretty amazing relationships with Herb and Madison that I would have never otherwise been able to have. Renee just had so much passion for life, and for my life, that I credit her for keeping me alive. She was my rock. And an awesome one at that. Herb may be Superman, but Renee was Wonder Woman. If you needed something, she was on it. Consider it done. And if you didn’t think you needed something but she thought you did, just accept it. Because she was right. She was always right. The faster you learned that the better your life was. Not in a negative way, but seriously, she had a sixth sense that gave her this weird ability to just know what you needed. And it made her happy to help you get it. Her selflessness was never ending. She alway remembered the small details that no one else seemed to. A silly example…my favorite loony toons character is Tazmanian Devil, while going through Renee’s apartment we uncovered a giant stuffed Tazmanian Devil that Herb said she had gotten for me. Who does stuff like that? It was such a small detail that I maybe mentioned once or twice, yet she remembered. And that pretty much sums up Renee. She had the biggest heart. Always thinking of others, and ways to make them smile. 

Without Renee I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Renee opened my eyes to life. She taught me the value of true friendship, and the monumental effect compassion can have on a person. I once asked her why she cared so much and she told me quite matter of factly that everyone struggles, but no one should have to struggle alone. It’s something that has stuck in the back of my mind ever since. Because even when I felt alone she was there. I was going back through text messages she had sent me and couldn’t help but laugh. She always knew when I was in a bad place and I just have these random conversations that just start off with “Ima hurt you if you don’t pick up your phone right now.” or “I’m going to smack you if you drink too much.” And my all time fav…”KAAAAATTTEEEE!!!” She liked to write my name in all CAPS, add like 16 extra A’s, a few extra T’s and four or five more E’s and some exclamation points for good measure. Always in trouble I was with her. But yet she loved me anyways. One day at the hospital I was joking around with the nurse about leaving behind the extra fentanyl. My ass got CHEWED out about what she would do to me if I strayed down my dark path once again. When I say chewed I mean tail between my legs, nurse walked out of the room, chewed out. Even stuck in that bed she wasn’t about to let me get away with anything. And I’m sure she’s here somewhere keeping track of how much I’ve had to drink making sure I’m on my best behavior. And I wouldn’t expect anything less than to be somehow haunted if I’m not on point today or any other day for that matter.

I miss that woman so much I just can’t even deal. I can’t believe I’m up here talking about Renee in the past tense. And I keep hearing from people that everything happens for a reason. That Renee and I were in each other’s lives for a reason. And that maybe our purpose in life was to help each other. But all I know is that no reason right now can change the amount of pain and sadness I feel in my heart not only for myself but for Madison and Herb as well.  I just can’t help but find myself questioning why it had to be this way. And I’m angry, and sad, and confused, that our story has to end like this. The only thing I take comfort in, is knowing that Renee is no longer suffering. I know I will always have her spirit inside me, but it can never replace actually having her physically in my life. I am going to miss Renee more than words could ever express. Through Renee I have learned to rely on my strengths to thwart my weaknesses. And I have learned the value of life even if at times I fail to appreciate it. Renee brought out in me my ability to show compassion, and to love. And although I sometimes wonder how we became so connected, I would not go back and change a single thing these last few months. I’m a better person for having met Renee. I’m sure we all are. And as much as I’m hurting right now and struggling to cope, I know I am not struggling alone. Renee has left me in the hands of the people she loved and trusted the most. Because that’s Renee…always looking out.

This is real life…

She’s gone. It’s starting to sink in that this is real life. The more we empty out of the apartment the more permanent this starts to feel. Madison came back over tonight to go through some more stuff in her room. I can tell when she is starting to get sad because she will start to say my name just like Renee would, but in opposite tone. Her voice gets real soft and suddenly my name has 13 A’s in it. I hear Kaaaaaaaaaaaaate from the other room and I go in to check it out and she just shrugs and says nothing. And then my heart breaks a little more. Sigh. This is real life.

Venessa and I went shopping today for party stuff. I couldn’t help but think how much this sucks. I know Renee wanted a party so that no one would be sad but there’s just no way around that. I’m buying confetti and balloons to throw her the biggest party and she won’t even be here. In spirit, yes, I’m sure she will be. But it still isn’t the same as having her actually here tearing up the dance floor like I know she would be. How much this sucks I can’t even put into words. Like, this sucks so bad. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not Renee. I can’t believe she’s gone. I can’t believe that I have to re-enter the real world. A real world without her. A world away from Dadio. I can’t believe it is time to part ways. I can’t believe this is real life.

The better part of the last two months have been spent in a bubble. I barely watched the news let alone stepped foot outside the hospital. But in those several weeks I learned a lot about myself I didn’t know. I used to pride myself in being a stone wall. Unreadable. Keeping to myself and never investing my time or feelings in people because of my shaky history of being hurt or let down. But spending my time with Renee I learned there was so much more to me if I just opened up a little. In the beginning when Renee was lucid and we could still talk and have lengthy conversations I spent a lot of time just listening. She had stories to tell. Stories she wanted me to hear. And when she was done telling stories she just had wisdom she wanted me to hear. And to understand. I cannot count how many conversations ended with her asking me to remember what she said and to tell her that I was going to be ok. There she was laying in a hospital bed, knowing things weren’t looking up for her, and she was more concerned with making sure I was going to be ok than anything else. And so many of you have asked me how I was able to do it these last several weeks. Or told me I have this strength that they lack. But what I had, was Renee. Her wisdom, her strength; she instilled it inside of me. Without her doing so, I would not have been able to be the person she needed me to be. The person Herb needed me to be.

Her compassion and selflessness rubbed off on me. I used to take what she said with a grain of salt. Never understanding just how much my decisions effected her until reiterated by Herb these last several weeks just how much my stupid decisions would anger her and upset her. As much as I had convinced myself that what I did was nobody else’s business, I realized I had just been lying to myself. I wanted Renee to know that I finally understood what she had been trying to teach me. And I felt that words would just not suffice. She invested so much time and love in me, the least I could do for her was the same. How do I show the woman who loved me more than I loved myself that I appreciated her? It seemed like a no brainer. Just be there. So that became my life. I wanted her to know that I valued her lessons. That she mattered. And that I would never forget her.

There were times when yes, I thought it would be easier on myself to walk away. Watching Renee slowly fade from the loud, vibrant woman full of spunk to a mere rag doll of herself was the hardest thing I will probably ever have to do. But it wasn’t about me anymore. It was about Renee. And it didn’t matter whether she would do it for me or not. Nothing mattered to me except that she was cared for. Herb is by far the strongest person I have ever met, but caring for someone on the verge of death is not a one man project. It takes a team of support that he didn’t have. So we became a team. A team that many doctors and nurses marveled at. And we have gotten constant praise for. Yet, if I can be so bold as to speak for both of us, we feel humbled by our experience and shrug off the recognition. Through this experience I learned to put others ahead of my own selfish needs. And not just Renee, but Herb as well. As much as I love Renee, I love Herb too. He adopted me into the family before he even really knew who I was just for the mere fact that Renee loved me. And without each other, we could never survive this. We share this connection through Renee that is almost unspeakable. We bathed her together. We took turns waking up with her to feed her ice chips. We held her hand through the pain. We endured the ups and downs that came with the disease. We knew her anger was the cancer even when directed towards us. We were there. In the thick of it we were there. And now that she is gone we are here. In her apartment. Where we still don’t need words to communicate. We look at each other and shake our heads. We cry. We sigh. This is real life. We can’t believe it. But this is real life.

I will never be the same person I was before this. I uncovered a person deep inside me I never knew was there. A person with a heart a little bigger than before. I may still be grumpy Kate on the surface but now there is more than what meets the eye. I have learned the value of love, compassion, and placing complete trust in someone else. The constant brick wall I used to surround myself with is crumbling. I used to view this negatively, but now I see it is to let the better me out into the world. There is now a 13 year old child who is looking up to me for guidance. I am not only responsible for myself, but for another human being. Madison may not be in my direct care, but Renee entrusted me with her happiness. To make sure that she comes out of this as ok as she can. She no longer has her mom to guide her through life, and I will never be able to replace that void, but I can do my best to pass on the stories and the wisdom Renee left me with. It’s not ideal. I still want to kick and scream about the unfairness of life. I hate that she’s gone. I hate that Madison has to experience this. I hate that Herb has to experience this. I hate that I have to experience this. But there’s no hiding from this. No time for vices or crawling into my hole and hoping it all goes away. This sucks. But this is real life, and real life goes on.

There’s A Hole In My Heart

Tonight I am empty. This morning I had to say my bitter sweet goodbyes to my dearest friend Renee. It was something I had been preparing myself to do for a while now, but no amount of preparation could prepare me for the amount of heartache I am feeling right now. There is a huge gaping hole in my heart, and what is left is beating through my chest right now with pure anxiety as I fight back the tears that keep wanting to flow forth from my eyes. She’s really gone. It just doesn’t seem real. Or that it could ever be. She is the strongest person I will ever know. And I stood by her and watched as cancer slowly took from her all signs of life. Last night as her breathing became heavy and loud as if she was snoring I felt a tingling in my toes that something just was not right. All night I lay awake. I rotated from my cot to the chair beside her bed. At 6am I was back in the chair holding her hand beneath the blanket. It was cold. I ran my other hand down the side of her body and across her leg which usually is warm from the layers of blankets but that too was cold. I put my hand over her heart and couldn’t feel the beat yet she would take a breath every few seconds. Shortly before 8am the nurse brought the doctor in to listen to her heart and she told us that she had a strong feeling that it would be today. A feeling she never felt with Renee who always seemed to beat out all the life expectancies doctors would stamp her with. The doctor had not left the room for more than a few minutes when I watched Renee take her last breath. Sitting in the chair propped up against the side of the bed I held her hand and felt a tingling sensation up my arm. I looked to Herb who was laying down on his cot and couldn’t even get the words to come out. Finally I told Herb that she was gone. He looked at me in disbelief. He grabbed for the stethoscope trying to find her heartbeat. He held her head and asked for a sign she was still here with us. And then he looked back to me and shook his head as the tears began to form. She was gone.

I couldn’t hold back the tears and I felt like my heart was ripping from my chest. Every nurse on staff came in to give us hugs and support as we had all become family. Just yesterday I was joking and laughing with the same people I am now breaking down in front of. She had been holding on for so long yet her passing caught me off guard. It caught us all off guard. I left shortly after the doctor came in and confirmed her passing. The number one person on my mind was Madison. The two of us spent most of the afternoon crying into each others shoulders. And when we finally had no more tears to cry I lent my arm as a punching bag. And when she lost the energy to punch my arm we sat there and drowned out the world in Tom and Jerry cartoons and grilled cheese sandwiches. And like her mother, by the end of the evening she was asking me if I was going to be ok when the only person I am concerned about is her. She is a mini Renee Jones in the making. And I love her to pieces.

As I parted ways with Madison for the night my heart beat out of my chest and anxiety set in. I’m not going back to the hospital. I’m not spending another night on my cot. I’m not going back to the familiar faces of the hospital where the nurses are my family and they tease me and joke with me and bring me warm blankets in the middle of the night. I’m not going back to figure out how many laps around the nurses station actually equal a mile, or to hear the latest afternoon gossip from my favorite secretary. That has been my normal. And now so quickly it is not. And I am forced to re-enter the real world that doesn’t come with purell dispensers at every corner. The real world without my Mama Bear to guide me. To keep me safe. To let me know what an idiot I am. To care more about me than I care about myself. And as much as I know I am far from being alone I can’t help but feel there is a huge hole in my heart. Something is missing. Something I can never replace or get back. Life is cruel.

So here Dadio and I are. I was going to go home for the first time in weeks but we just couldn’t seem to part ways. We have spent the better part of the last 63 days together. The thought of separating and going back to our respective lives scares me. For the most part he has been six feet away at any given moment and without each other neither one of us would have made it this far. The thought of Dadio returning to New York scares me. The thought of me having to return to work and re-start my life, scares me. I know I will always have the spirit of Renee inside me, but it can never replace actually having her physically in my life. Renee….Mama…I am going to miss you more than words could ever express. Through you I have learned to rely on my strengths to thwart my weaknesses. I have learned the value of life even if at times I failed to appreciate it. You brought out in me my ability to show compassion, and to love. And although I sometimes wonder how we became so connected, I would not go back and change a single thing these last several weeks. I know that you have put more effort into my life than I have in the past and the least I could do for you was stand by your side and help you through to the end. Please continue to watch over me and know that even when I couldn’t say it, I appreciated you. And I loved you more than I could ever express. Thank you for never giving up on me, I will never forget you and all you have taught me. From the bottom of my heart, I love you Mama Bear, I really do.

Go to Sleep Mama Bear…

Today my heart is heavy. Renee has decided that she can no longer carry on. She has been asking me to help move things along the past few days and it breaks my heart. I so very much wish I could make the suffering stop. It pains me to see her this way. My throat aches from choking back the tears. My head is spinning. This morning after meeting with the doctors the decision was made to keep Renee sedated 24 hours. It was the first time I have seen her happy in weeks. She smiled, and sang, and danced in her bed to bring on the drugs. She even graced me with her own version of MC Hammer Can’t Touch This and asked me if I could rap. I had to remind her that I was her white daughter.

Choking back tears I told her that she had nothing to be sorry about. I gave her one last fist bump and sat down to watch her sleep. She turned to me and told me I had to get myself some food. I told her in a few minutes. She gave me that look Renee is famous for and called me out for telling her the same thing the first time she told me to get food a few minutes prior. That’s my Mama Bear, even as she fades asleep she is looking after me. It’s a testament to her loving and caring way. And now as she is drifting to sleep, muttering under her breath, I sit here with a heavy heart. I know she has been through a lot. I know I can no longer ask her to fight. I just wish for her to find some peace.

But selfishly I wonder how I will move forward without Renee. I look back at the person I used to be before she scooped me under her wing I fear I will find myself back there. I wonder who will answer the phone at 3am when I’m spiraling out of control. I wonder who will make me smile with random texts throughout my day. Or who will be so patient with me when I retreat inside myself for weeks at a time. I wonder how I will make it without Renee. Somedays it feels like she knows me better than I know myself. I have screen shots of our conversations saved from months and months ago when she scolded me for being out drinking too much. They were motherly, understanding but full of concern. I have saved emails from her that I have read over and over again trying to soak every last ounce of advice out of them. But selfishly I still wonder how I will survive without her. But I know she has taught me well. And I know I just have to trust that she will continue to guide me from the other side.

Go to sleep Mama Bear…I love you.

Cancer is a Dick

It started off an ordinary Sunday morning. I woke up early to go to the gym, worked out for an hour or so, and I intended to go home, shower, and then head into the Brigham to visit my friend. But for some reason I was leaving the gym and I decided I should just go straight into town. I made record time getting in, and made my way up to her floor. A brief discussion with the nurse before entering the room and I learned it was another rough night. She didn’t sleep, she woke up on intense pain every hour, and had just managed to fall asleep. So I went in quietly and just sat in my own thoughts as she rested. Every once in a while I would look up and she’d be moaning, or her body would twitch. And as much as it made me nervous I knew this was just part of the routine now. I wasn’t even there 45 minutes when things became chaotic. It seemed her moans were like she was gasping for breath. Shortly there after someone came in to take her vitals. Her blood pressure was incredibly low. This was especially concerning because it was on the other end of the spectrum just an hour ago. I made this comment to the woman, and she went to get Renee’s nurse, who proceeded to re-take the blood pressure on both arms several times. Each time it was a little bit lower than the pervious. My heart was racing. I was alone with Renee at this point. It was still fairly early in the day and Herb was on his way in, but stuck in traffic. As her pressure kept dropping the nurse is calling codes, I’m being drilled with questions, and doctors and an ICU rapid response nurse is being paged to the floor. Nothing they’re doing seems to be working. More and more people are filing in taking vitals, changing cuffs, administering drugs, and paging for blood STAT. I felt helpless. Just sitting there holding her hand and rubbing her leg. Trying to remain calm and tell her it was going to be ok. She was confused, disoriented, and at times not making any sense at all. Herb finally arrived and doctors whisked him away to discuss options. They lacked the optimism in their voices that used to be there. Everything was matter of fact. Everyone was talking as if this was it. We were deciding on breathing tubes, resuscitation, final wishes. My head was spinning.

She was moved to ICU, and once evaluated, we were allowed to see her two at a time. The family waiting room filled with people as news traveled of the sudden change in condition. It didn’t make sense. She was fine. Sleeping. Everything was stable, and in the blink of an eye it was utter chaos. I was doing everything I could to keep it together. Selfish of me, maybe. But I wasn’t ready for this to be it. Who is going to keep me in line? Who is going to remind me I’m ridiculous and overdramatic? Who is going to let me talk things out and wait for me to figure it out on my own and then give me a big MMMkkkkaayy at the end of it all? And ultimately I just wanted to scream out THIS ISN’T FAIR!!!!

After 12 hours at the hospital I went back “home” to cuddle the dog. There’s something about that unconditional love from Bo Bo that makes me feel better, even for a few minutes. I barely slept, too many thoughts going through my mind. I skipped my workout and opted to go straight into the hospital. Expecting it to be a repeat of yesterday, I put on my tough guy face and nervously range the bell for ICU. I was allowed in, walked to Renee’s room and as I peaked in the door she’s sitting up eating a popsicle and just smiles and says “Hey Kate!” COMPLETE 180. She’s awake. She’s not confused. She’s eating, she dramatically points to the three empty water cups on her table and exclaims how thirsty she is. And I stood there. My mouth must have been hanging open because she looks at me and says, “Kate, what the HELL happened to me? Why am I here?” Absolutely no recollection of the day before. Doesn’t remember me being there really. Doesn’t remember all the chaos. Which I guess is for the best. But I sat there and explained to her what had gone down. And then I looked at her and basically told her there is no explanation. Cancer is just a dick, but once again you said fuck you right back, and here we are.

It’s a roller coaster. The ups and downs take their toll. And the only explanation I can muster, is that cancer is a dick. And I’m thankful, extremely thankful, that Renee can be a dick right back 😉

So there is hope for me…

That’s what a woman said to me today at the gym. I was finishing up my foam rolling and my stretching and telling everyone about the walk I’m doing at the end of the month, (Donate here please,) and Christina yells out “Kate lost 80 pounds and is now a size two for the first time in her life!!!” So now of course everyone is interested in what I have to say. (Thanks, Christina.) So I grab the photo off the wall of me 80 pounds heavier and everyone stops what they’re doing to stand around and look at the picture, then back up at me, then back at the picture. Most of the women were in shock or in some state of disbelief. I heard a lot of “wow” floating around the room. And then of course the question everyone is eager to hear the answer to…how did you do it?

I pointed to Christina and she shook her head and yelled PROTEIN AND VEGGIES! The truth is whether she will admit it or not, Christina was a huge kick start for my success. I met her in 2009? 2010? at a gym called Healthworks. I don’t know what made me chose to join that particular gym, but it came with a special introductory personal training package. I didn’t choose Christina and she didn’t choose me. Some lady at the front desk at random booked me for a session with her and that’s where it all began. Admittedly she wasn’t my favorite person in the whole entire world when we first started together, but at the time she was the only one in my life asking me what I wanted. What was important to me? What could she do for me? And everyone else in my life wanted to know what I could do for them. I needed the push she gave me. The no nonsense attitude. And the amount of research she put in to my specific injuries to tailor my workouts was ridiculous. It was so impressive to me that I have followed her from gym to gym to continue absorbing all the knowledge I can from her. And because she’s just a lot of fun!

So as I’m talking to a woman about my path to success and how I did it it dawned on me that I had to stop and emphasize that it wasn’t an overnight transformation. I had to make a whole lifestyle change. I don’t even have the same friends as I did back then. I have learned portion control, and and self control so that when I want an occasional treat I don’t feel like I’ve ruined my whole diet. But that is something I’ve developed over YEARS of hard work. It was probably about two years before I really noticed a complete change. And I’m still changing. I went dress shopping for my sisters wedding yesterday and I had to put on a size TWO to find something that remotely fit. Size two. I have NEVER been a size two. It was an amazing feeling! But I didn’t become a size two overnight. It’s been years since I began my journey. Years. What people don’t understand, is that getting in shape takes time. And the more out of shape you are, the longer it may take to get into shape. But putting continued effort into it, setting goals, and remembering that yes, there IS hope for you when you put in the EFFORT, you too can be the person you want to be. 

 

Before….

 

After….

 

 

Anything is possible when you put your mind to it.