The Brave Ski Mom

Building a new generation of skiers and snowboarders.

The Rock in My Way

by

rock ahead
This rock is in my way, but I’m going to get past it.

brave ski mom logoWhen I mountain bike, I often get fixated on the rocks in my way.

I see them in the trail. They’re big or they’re sharp or they’re at the top of a hill and I’m running out of steam. These rocks have been known to derail me, especially if I’m not looking forward, planning for the next ascent, curve or drop.

Last week, I hit a derailing rock. This rock stopped me cold, in total 100% surprise. This rock pretty much left me exposed, with nowhere to hide and no alternative route.

And since this rock has pretty much stripped away any pretension, or posturing, there’s no point in being coy.

This rock is cancer.

valhalla bike snowmass
Riding Valhalla at Bike Snowmass.

Listen to Your Friends

Two and a half weeks ago, I was having coffee with a friend.

I questioned her about something going on with me and she advised me to see a doctor.

The next day I did.

The day after that, I had imaging and then two days after that I read the imaging report. (NOTE TO HOSPITALS:  You might wish to rethink giving patients access to results before their doctors get to see them.)

My report was unremarkable, so I felt reassured.

But when my doctor called me after the Memorial Day weekend, she suggested a consult. The consulting physician saw me the next day. I had biopsies. On Friday afternoon, I answered my phone.

“Hi Mrs. Lummis,” the doctor said. “Are you alright talking on the phone?”

With those words, I knew.

There really is no point in being coy.

The Diagnosis Roller Coaster

One of the remarkable things about receiving a diagnosis, of any sort, is how predictably we react. You know the “stages of grief?” They’re real.

That first day, I was all business. Here in Western Colorado, we have fine medical care, but not high volume medical care. While my doctor reassured me that the procedure would be “routine,” I decided to go elsewhere, to a hospital where doctors do thousands, not hundreds, of these procedures.

So for two hours, I made phone calls, scheduled appointments and canceled summer vacations. I had so much going on in my head, so many to-do lists, that I barely slept that night.

The next day, I was angry. Why did I have to do all of these things? Why should I have to cancel our summer vacation? Why, indeed?

By Sunday, that mood had passed, to be replaced with predictable sadness.

Since then, I’ve been both manic and depressed. Running miles and miles has helped a lot. But it isn’t enough. I need to write.

To Share or Not to Share?

beauty and rocks
Moving back from my rock, it’s all uphill, and surprisingly beautiful. Thanks for your support.

While the stages of grief may be predictable, our individual reactions to bad news are not. Having been through diagnoses with friends, I know that we each react differently according to our situations and personality.

Not surprisingly, I’m not good with secrets.

This morning, I woke in the wee hours. Even in June it was still quite dark.

I realized that if I didn’t let this out, I’d regret it.

Not because I need to be confessional. Not because I need attention of any sort.

But because these thoughts, the ones I’m writing right now, were clogging my head and making everything worse. Just as I need to get the cancer out of me, I need to get these words out, too.

One of the amazing, amazing benefits of writing this blog is the community we’ve built together. Many of you have stuck with me for almost five years and we’ve become correspondents and friends, sharing our skiing adventures, as well as the ups and downs of raising outdoor children.

Some of you may have never read a word of mine before.

But as I balanced keeping news of my cancer in versus letting it out, I realized that out suits me best.

It also gives me the opportunity to beg a favor.

So here goes. Should you feel inclined, please send your thoughts and prayers my way on Wednesday.

I’d love to have each and every one of you on my side, helping me get past the rock, to look ahead to the next curve in this beautiful trail.

Thanks.

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Reader Interactions

Comments

  3. What hard news to take in. You are the ‘Brave Ski Mom’, you will also be the ‘Brave Kick Cancer’s Butt Mom’.

  4. Praying for you, for peace, strength, comfort and courage. Also praying for your precious family. I am sure you will be an inspiration as always! There’s a reason your blog’s title contains the word BRAVE in bold!

  5. Thanks for sharing your tough times as well as your fun times … we are all praying for you … here’s to this rock becoming a pebble soon!

  9. Ah rocks. And Cancer, the big C, that’s a big rock. I’ll say some prayers for you and your family.

  10. I commend you on your decision to deal with this during the off season. 😉

    Wishing you all the best for a fast and FULL recovery. You’re going to kick its butt, you know. You ain’t the BRAVE Ski Mom for nothing!

  11. Thanks, Kristen, for sharing so honestly with us. I am with you all the way with prayers and love. Sheila PS no need to reply.

  13. Thanks for choosing to share. I cannot pray you if I do not know your challenge. Sending so much love and faith in your direction.

  14. Thinking of you and sending you lots of positive energy this week! I had a cancer diagnosis when I was 19, and I know exactly what you’re talking about here. I say take each day as it comes and don’t get overly worked up about “possibilities”. You really don’t know what’s possible, yet!

  15. Keep praying and eat healthy. Positive vibes help your body heal. I don’t kneo you but read your blog and will pray for you as I do anyone else I know that needs it.

  16. So sorry to hear K! I just got back from a Mtn Bike ride, where a rock nearly derailed me…didn’t see it coming. Had to regroup. Got back on, and finished a great ride. You got this thing! Kick butt! – Scotty

  18. Kia kaha, dear BSM, from San Francisco, where only last night I heard Judy Blume speak on the same subjects — surviving cancer and needing to, in your eloquent words, “because these thoughts, the ones I’m writing right now, were clogging my head and making everything worse. Just as I need to get the cancer out of me, I need to get these words out, too.”

  19. I am so sorry my dear friend! Sending positive thoughts, energy and love your way.

  21. Even though you are so blessed with lots of family and friends, I will happily help you with thoughts, with bringing food when you all need a break. You will get through this!!! you also have to know you need us all to help you. That’s community. You can call me any time. Stephanie

  22. Thank you, thank you each and every one! Just had a consultation with oncologist, which I promise you is something you NEVER want to do. My surgery is now scheduled for tomorrow morning, June 9. Love, love, love you all.

  23. You are the rock! You are strong and yet bending. Your choice to share, means the universe is with you and we can all stand with you. My thoughts and prayers are with you, and your family! Hugs.

  24. Very sorry to hear about your diagnosis. But if anyone can kick cancer’s butt, it’s the Brave Ski Mom! Sending good vibes your way, both today and Wednesday.

  25. Kristen – You are definitely in our prayers! You are amazing! What a beautifully written piece. Thank you for sharing. Now go kick Cancer’s butt!

  26. Kristen – thank you for sharing and being so personal here. You’re a rockstar and you’re gonna blow this one away!

  27. Golly Kristen, this was a doozy to read. I applaud you for sharing, that took courage. I feel that a community in the know is a healing community. Shoot, it could be any of us Brave Ski Moms in this position, but you are taking one on the chin for all of us.

    Another way you’ve demonstrated bravery is to take control of your care. Being in a small town myself, I hope that I would have a clear head and do the same.

    So put that bike in the lowest gear and walk it right over that rock. Peace to you and your family.
    -Cora

  29. My dear Kristen, you are an amazing women. I knew that the first time I met you back in January 2014. The name of you blog represents you so well: BRAVE. I feel for you right now more than a rock, a boulder sounds more like it. Tomorrow- Wednesday, my thoughts and energy will be sent your way and yes, together we will stand. Good luck my brave friend.

  30. Hi Kristen – so very saddened to hear your news. Scary stuff. I’m inspired by your choice to share, your encouragement to listen to your friends, and your approach to tackling this rock in your path… all in such a beautiful way. You’ve definitely got my thoughts and prayers tomorrow!

  32. You are going to be great! I will be thinking of you and sending prayers your way. But, I have no doubt that you will be kicking my but on our trail runs in no time at all! Looking forward to our next one 🙂

  33. Visualizing a smooth trail for you in the days and weeks and months ahead, BSM. The next rock in your path will be the one you huck yourself off of in celebration of your strength, tenacity and bravery.

  35. Will be praying for courage, peace and healing! No coincidence that “bravery” is your trademark

  36. You are so strong and I know that you are going to get up this mountain and conquer all of the rocks in your way. Find the comfort of knowing there are so many people here that surround you and the family with love and support. I am praying for you, Jamie and the boys. You are more than conquerors. Love you all. Let me know if there is anything that I can do for you.

  41. Thank you, every one of you, for all your love and support! You cannot imagine how much your thoughts, prayers and concern have bolstered me through the past 10 days. All-in-all, everything is going in the right direction, thankfully.

    I am so indebted to each of you and I send my love right back at you!

    BSM/Kristen