The End is Near

After my post a few weeks ago about the pain a mother feels when her child, regardless of age, is diagnosed with cancer, many people reached out to ask about our story and her progress.

Well, we are incredibly thankful that her end of treatment (EOT) is near.?

It feels as though there should be some grand celebration with fireworks and a massive party with a band (that will come one day, soon!) but honestly, treatment just stops, almost silently as it comes, it's down to four more bags of medicine (or good poison). She will sit in the infusion chair, with her bright pink pillow and head scarf on - wrapped in her fluffy blanket and receive her final chemotherapy just like that! I will sit there holding her hand, thinking how hard it is to believe that she is the same soul who, less than a year ago, walked down the aisle, married the perfect person, and danced all night long –?if it were not for that beautiful personality, cheeky smile, and infectious humor. It is remarkable how transforming an experience like this is, but if you overcome, it's for the better! She has chosen to be open about it all, what we've been through over the last 26 weeks, and where it will take our family, in the future; as a mom, I have already read her words 25 times today, in awe of what an insightful, profound and emotionally intense woman she has become (or has always been!), but she's even more beautiful ( if that's possible), graceful and a hell of a lot funnier! I have included her raw and emotional words in her style below, should you need a little something to refill your tank this week.?

However, I want to add my "greatest take away in this" - surround yourself with a kind, loving, and nurturing tribe, cherish family, and if you work for someone, make sure to choose wisely the kind of company and work-family you give yourself to, as it has made all the difference to us over these past months - and we are forever grateful! Since a portion of my network here is around or near Gabby's age, her words could be hugely impactful!

Ready to Press Play on the Game Called Life - Gabriella Ognibene - Trindade

prelude:

"as I head into my last infusion on this Friday, August 18th, I feel compelled to share, at length, my journey…..

the beginning:

in June 2022, I found a large lump on my neck and panicked. I had just received my CoVid booster weeks prior and thought it was a reaction. after the lump did not go away, I went for bloodwork. my bloodwork was perfect, not a single level was off, and the medical opinion I was given was to wait and see if it went down, as it could have been my body's reaction to the booster. months went by & my wedding was coming. I knew in my heart that something was wrong & I made the decision (right or wrong) to address it when I felt I was ready- which was not going to be before my wedding day. I developed a nasty cough that I continued to ignore & allergic reactions to consuming alcohol were increasing. in hindsight, I recognized that I was sick or would have an outbreak of insane cold sores on my face every three weeks, for at least the past year. looking back, it was so obvious, it was clear, & I knew something wasn't right. My hubby, mom, & my friends that knew and questioned my health, would harass me to go to the doctor, but I just couldn't until I felt so sick I had to. so with my that last sinus infection in january 2023, I made a doctor's appointment to get it evaluated but left with a pile of scripts.

the first CT was scary & I'll save you the trauma of the experience. however, I will say that the patient experience is everything, and I've never been so proud of my healthcare career and my patient-centric mindset. the results came back on a friday & I was scheduled to leave that monday for my first project in my new role. the doctor called asking me to come in, but I couldn't, so she reviewed the results with me over the phone. she apologized profusely for not being able to see me face to face and proceeded to say that it was very clear that I not only had cancer in the lymph node on my neck but a HUGE mass in my chest. she was unclear about the type of cancer, but it was cancer & they assumed lymphoma. next steps: a full PET & biopsy.

the idea of a PET scan didn't scare me, but the thought of the results did. unbeknownst to me, the unknown of what was going on in my body was absolutely terrifying. I tried to remain positive, but my mind definitely took over, and all I could picture was my body lighting up like a christmas tree- the cancer being everywhere. but at this point, everything was out of my control, so I sat back, let things play out, & put the most fitting song I could think of on repeat: Carrie Underwood's, "Jesus Take The Wheel". not that I am overly religious human, however, something about the song spoke to me as the only thing I could do was sit back & allow things to play out as they should.

my mom, husband & myself had our moment of panic, shock, absolute fear, and unknowns. but we picked ourselves up, packed our bags, and headed to chicago for the next ten days for an incredible work opening. resilience is something magical & the three of us are the epitome of it.

the diagnosis:

I'll also save you the drama & pain of navigating through finding doctors in the network, getting authorizations for procedures, waiting for results, finding an oncologist, etc. fast forward to the PET, biopsy & agonizing waiting- the biopsy results showed up in my chart as I sat in the parking lot of my mom's house with my best friend. we read them together, we didn't cry, and we (and I truly mean we) felt relieved: Hodgkin's Lymphoma

to summarize, my oncologist called to tell me I was officially diagnosed with High-Risk Nodular Sclerosis Hodgkin's Lymphoma with Bulky Disease. I would undergo a port placement, with twelve infusions of ABVD chemotherapy for the next six months. I would not be going on my honeymoon, I would immediately need to begin IVF treatment to harvest my eggs, I would lose all of my hair, I would be sick, I couldn't travel, I would need a reduced workload, I may not be able to get pregnant naturally & essentially, my life as I knew it up until that day, would change.

while his information may have been overwhelming & completely altered my life, I felt completely at peace and in control for the first time. I knew my diagnosis, I knew the treatment plan, I knew roughly what to expect, and I knew the potential worst outcome. I was ready to begin whatever I needed to because that meant I was one step closer to turning the page on this nightmare.

the uncomfortable:

when I received the official phone call with the diagnosis & treatment plan, I was with my mom, godmother, best friend & my aunts, my husband was home alone. he needed to know, but that wasn't the type of conversation you have over the phone.

I often joked about having anxiety or feeling anxious, but when I say the anxiety of sharing this news with my husband was debilitating, I truly mean it made me weak. how do you tell your best friend of nine years, whom you just exchanged vows with five months prior, what you've just learned? that you have cancer, you will go through six months of chemotherapy, you will most likely not be able to conceive naturally, and that you will lose your hair. how do you protect the person you love the most from the pain, fear, and sadness you're feeling? simply put, you don't.

so, I told him. I told him in the best way I could, which went something along the lines of: I have cancer, I have to go through 12 infusions of chemotherapy, I'm going to be ungodly sick, we will have to freeze our embryos, and I'm going to lose my hair. & that final statement is what broke me. but then, I asked him to be the one to shave it, and I felt whole again. I felt safe, protected & loved. he held me & we cried. and I mean cried. we were scared, but we were in it together.

the planning & mindset began:

when I received my diagnosis & was able to understand the next months of my life, I decided then that I wanted to be open and share my journey. I've always considered myself a strong individual & this was going to be nothing but a bump in the road. sharing my journey allowed me to continue to keep my strength & to show those following that I am ok. that this is temporary. that I will continue to be the strong Gab I always have been. but also to show the truth, to be honest, when I was struggling because we can't always be strong all of the time. we fall, we may stay for a while, but we always get back up.

don't get me wrong, things have not always been positive through this process. there have been moments where I have felt at rock bottom, completely disconnected from the world & alone despite always being around my loved ones. however, I tried to remind myself as often as necessary that this would come to an end; I would eventually be able to eat whatever I wanted, I won't have to miss out on things & I will eventually feel healthy again.

in sharing my journey, I wanted to bring awareness to the importance of listening to your body and prioritizing your health. to be a reminder to those of all ages, but especially those my age, to always take care of yourself. you have absolutely nothing in this life without your health. go to the doctor, ask questions, and pay attention when something doesn't look or feel just right. do it. it's that simple.

my take away moments:

?your health is and always will be #1. make your physical and mental health your priority, always.

?your family, your friends, and your support system are everything. lean on your support system, and let them lean on you.

?do whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want, as often as you want (don't forget it).

?mindset is power. when you read the laundry list of side effects of my chemo, you contemplate how the drugs actually make you better, since the side effects are scary, and I mean scary. however, I committed to myself that I was going to be strong. I fully believe that keeping my mind clear & at peace has allowed me to feel better physically. protect your peace. do whatever you have to, to keep your mind at ease, and the rest will fall into place.

?pay it forward. I never imagined being in this situation, however, even more so, I never imagined having the extent of the support - the donations, the words, the packages, the cards, the calls, the texts, the list goes on. give back to those who give to you & to others. it is incredibly powerful to have the ability to give to someone who needs it. if you can't give anything, give love.

?never stop being grateful. whether it be for your life, your family & friends, your job- treasure it. you never realize how important the little things are until you can't have them. appreciate the ability to live your life as you know it.

?give people grace & forgiveness. you're often told to put yourself in someone else's shoes & see the world through their eyes. to cut them some slack because you don't know what they're going through. it is the truth, you don't have any idea of their daily battles - give them grace, forgive them, love them & love them hard

?never stop telling people you're proud of them. you cannot imagine how powerful that sentence is. "I love you, you look great, you're so beautiful, you're rocking it" warm the heart, but a genuine "I'm so proud of you" hits differently.

when I was first diagnosed, I couldn't help but feel like I was missing out on so much. I felt like I was locked in a cage, cut off from the world. now, as I sit here reflecting, I can't help but realize that I've been given the gift of quality time. which happens to be one of my love languages. I've been able to spend uninterrupted, quality time with my mom & my husband, time that under no other circumstances, would have been possible. we sit, laugh, talk, and time has stood still in the most beautiful way. but most importantly, my little brother picked up his life and moved to Florida to be with me. he dropped everything, packed up his car, and moved in to be with me. I have never laughed so much in my entire life the way I have in the past weeks. I've never felt so satisfied doing absolutely nothing because of whom I'm doing nothing with. & for those reasons alone, I will forever be grateful for all the time I've felt I "missed out" on because it's been spent with the three most important people in my life.

& the last part of this journey that needs to be mentioned is my outlook on being bald:

the most agonizing, soul-crushing, painful, and dreaded part of this was the moment I had to shave my head. however, it was the most freeing and in control I've literally ever, ever felt. the initial thought of being bald physically pained me, it made me miserable, & truly made me feel as if I could not continue. but now, as I sit here with a completely bald head, I've never had more confidence in myself. the baldness does not by any means make me feel beautiful, in fact, I don't even like to look in the mirror, but the power that I hold for myself to show myself for who I am right now is beautiful. the beauty behind walking into the store with your head held high, as the stares, the questioning looks, and the eyes of pity come from every direction, is a beauty that can only be felt from within. I never thought I would say this, I even threatened my friends never to repeat the words, but bald is officially beautiful.

a few weeks ago, I went shopping with my mom for my first bald outing. we had gone to the pool that day & decided to stop by the local outlet mall, so I had nothing but a bald head. my mom offered for me to wear her hat. I responded (as many can imagine), "f*ck it, I'm going like this." we stopped for a bite to eat first, probably only for 10 minutes. as we sat enjoying our lunch, a woman approached us. she told me that I was "downright beautiful and my confidence was inspiring," and shared that she doesn't have eyebrows as she was undergoing treatment for melanoma. I have to say that I played it off pretty cool, but I was in shock and at a loss for words. my first experience with my new look, and a stranger approached me to hype me up in a public setting. even now, I'm still in awe. that moment was powerful, and I don't think I will ever, ever forget it. before my diagnosis, I would have never approached someone with a shaved head or visibly sick and told them they were beautiful. even prior to my interaction with her, I don't think I would. but now, after feeling the feels of her words, I will never miss the opportunity to pass those words on to someone else (the confidence she gave me is something I'm still struggling to put into words). & to pay it forward, I will always stop the next beautiful bald human and let them know they are absolutely killing it. do the same. don't be shy, embarrassed, or afraid to tell someone how beautiful they are. you are giving them a dose of?confidence, whether it be for that moment, a week, or a lifetime when (I can only assume) they need it most.

to my mommy, my dad, my husband & my baby brother: thank you. thank you for the laughs, the cries, the good times & the bad. I never ever could be sitting here today smiling without you. you have been tender, gentle, patient & oh so loving. I pray I never have to return this type of favor but know that I am forever indebted to you for this chapter in my life. I love you with everything humanly possible. you are my whole world.

my girls: you have shown up for me in ways I can't describe. you've checked in every single chemo day, weekend & all the times in between. you've honored my wishes of treating me the same, carried on our usual conversations, & have made me feel so appreciated. you've shown me the true value of sisterhood & friendship. at this point in our lives, friendships shift as priorities change, distance grows, and new relationships form. I can confidently say that the fear of growing away from you has never crossed my mind. you've reminded me of everything we have to look forward to, daily. you've counted down the treatments. and most importantly, our friendships have grown stronger than ever.

to everyone (and I mean everyone) behind me: thank you for being on this journey with me; I wouldn't have made it without you. the world can be full of terrible things, but it is filled with even more beautiful things. you are all my beautiful things. less than a year ago, during our wedding ceremony, we asked our guests to participate in vows for Leo & me as a couple. we asked: "Family & Friends, do you promise to support and guide them through both joy and sorrow?" you have honored this vow every day since this diagnosis. for that, we thank you.

we are turning the pages labeled as cancer in my book of life, taking the lessons learned, spreading awareness & giving back, but most importantly- we are moving on

here's to officially pressing play on this life of mine, embracing my new look, & making up for lost time?

look for more to come, especially on the mistakes we made, what we would have done differently, and some suggestions to consider, should you or a loved one find themselves in a similar situation."

Should you wish to continue to follow her journey and return to a normal life, read how we are giving back, or wish to send her a note of encouragement, her friends have set up a go fund page here:

https://gofund.me/e18d138e

Our family intends to support the fertility preservation center for oncology patients, specifically the location in Southwest Florida. The doctor and the center's caregivers made one of the scariest moments in this journey, frankly, exciting (disclaimer: outside of the painful shots and the subsequent emotional and hormonal effects of the medicine). If you would like, you can also consider making a donation to IVFMD, link below, which gave us great comfort and hope, early on:

https://www.ivfmd.com/services/fertility-preservation/for-cancer-patients/