Some people have been asking me lately, why it is that I wanted to be a part of the Ride to Conquer Cancer. Yes, I've mentioned on my fundraising profile that I'm riding in memory of my grandmother and in dedication to a few people in my life who are fighters and survivors. That's all very true.

Then I mention that I'm riding it for me. That's very true as well.

What I don't go into detail of, is why I'm riding it for me.

I can say all of those inspirational lines, such as "to prove how strong I am" or "to do something good in this world..." and neither would be false. I am doing the ride to prove to myself just how much I can do and to do something good. My karma cup is feeling pretty low these days. But those aren't the real reasons I'm doing this ride.

I'm doing it because I too, have had a close encounter (too close for comfort) with cancer.


Yes, me.

Let me take a moment to back the story up a bit, to where it all started.

I was young when I got married. Really young. Barely legal young. I wasn't happy in that marriage for long, and as soon as I was separated, I dove head first into the dating world. I had no idea what I was doing and I destroyed a number of men (and boys) along the way. I had quite the whirl wind of promiscuous encounters and I didn't feel an ounce of regret for my new found freedom. Years went by.

Then, shortly after one of my regular annual exams (you know, lady things), I received a phone call from my doctor that abnormalities showed up from my pap test.

Holy wow. What did that mean?

I had to schedule another appointment at a specialist and have them conduct further tests. In short, it was possible that I had ovarian cancer. Yes. Cancer up in my lady bits. Scary. As. F***.

The specialist performed a biopsy --- scraping skin from my insides to test -- which hurt. It was uncomfortable and not pretty at all. I bled and cramped afterwards. It sucked. The biopsy would be further tested and I would receive a notification of the results. No one would tell me anything more. I was nervous about the possibility of having cancer, and my mind went wild with so many thoughts.

Note: never Google your symptoms or possible illnesses....you'll be convinced that you're dying.

The weekend following the exam, I went on a road trip with the guy I was dating at the time. I wanted to get everything off my mind so that I wasn't worrying so much. We drove down to Portland, and along the way, I noticed I still had cramping and a bit of spotting. I ignored it - thinking it was from the exam still.

We had a great weekend of eating yummy foods and drinking Portland's craft beer, but the whole time I was plagued with cramps and light spotting. This was not normal. I was not scheduled to have any bleeding for a couple weeks, and the cramps were getting quite severe.

On the drive home, as we crossed back over the border, I received a phone call. It was about my parents -- they were splitting up after 40 years of marriage. Not the best way to finish a weekend.

Tuesday at work, I was still feeling cramps. [If I remember correctly, it was a long weekend...hence, being at work Tuesday and not Monday.] I went to the walk-in clinic to see a doctor, because I knew something was wrong. The doctor at the clinic was a man - and he refused to conduct an exam on me, making excuses that it's a job for a woman. There I am, in pain, and he tells me to leave. Frustrated, I made an appointment with a specialist at the clinic. Then I waited a couple more days, in pain, to see her.

She was worth the wait, because she was an absolute doll.

She didn't even have to conduct a full exam -- it was clear once she touched me, that I had an infection. An infection that had gone untreated for at least a week. She sent me out of the clinic with a big supply of antibiotics and meds, and I had a follow-up appointment made. She lectured me on safe sex and HPV, and questioned why I had never received any protection against HPV in my earlier years. I felt so stupid and little and stupid...

Turns out, I had Pelvic Inflammatory Disease...it was painful. The inflammation could have been triggered when I had the first exam, the biopsy, in the weeks prior. It all cleared up thanks to the antibiotics.

Through all of this, the doctor informed me that because of the complications, there was a very large possibility that there would be scarring on my ovaries/insides and that it may be impossible for me to have children. Not that it was on my to-do list, but I like having my options. At least I'm healthy and alive! I can't complain at all.

My care free dating days were over, I was looking to meet someone to have a true, healthy, long term relationship with, and now I would have to find someone who would be OK with the possibility of not having children. I knew that would weed out a lot of people.

On top of that, I heard back from the doctor that I was positive for very early stages of ovarian cancer. I would need to have another appointment to have the cells removed - which I was told was a common and standard procedure.

All went well. Sure, it wasn't a pleasant procedure, but it was done. The cancer tidbits were taken out, my insides healed, and I got on with life. I didn't splash it across my Facebook, I didn't tell my co-workers, I didn't talk about it with my friends. I was embarrassed about the whole thing. I didn't know how to process all that had happened in such a short amount of time.

It took me time to come to terms with it all. The guy I was dating at the time didn't seem too receptive to all that I was going through, and our relationship didn't last.

So this brings me to the tattoo. The tattoo that I have covering my (hidden) abs. A tattoo that I had designed by a Mexican artist from LA, who put the ink into my skin in Las Vegas while I was there for a convention. It's a tattoo with a heart locket, surrounded by roses, all done in a retro style. Bold lines and colours. I had the tattoo done in a process of reclaiming my body and all it had been through. A reminder of the carefree days I had, which (very likely) led to the complications I endured. It was a piece of something beautiful on a space of my body that may never get used for creating life. A symbol of my acceptance of this new part of my life.

I love the tattoo, its placement and its meaning to me.



Moving on from all of that was not as hard as I thought it might be. I fully accept all that happened and have learned from it all. I'm far more careful these days.

Writing about all of this, in a public space, is a first for me. I've never been one to enjoy airing my dirty laundry on the great wide web - so please don't take this as a sob story. I want you to take away the good, and learn from my mistakes. Through all that I endured, I still came out the other side, smiling and happy. Through all the changes that have happened, I am no less of a person, of a woman. I am strong, I am happy and I am healthy.

This is why I chose to be a part of the Ride to Conquer Cancer. Cycling (road cycling) came into my life shortly after all of this muck happened. Cycling became my therapy. My release. My escape. Cycling gave me an opportunity to create more positive in my life. I set goals, I trained, I crushed those goals. I made new friends, I spent a lot of money on bike stuff.

More than anything, road cycling (and cyclocross) made me realize that we are resilient, capable and strong human beings - women and men alike. We don't give ourselves enough credit for the things we are capable of doing. We often don't give ourselves enough opportunity to explore our strengths, to push ourselves to be better. Cycling gave me that opportunity.



I realize that not everyone goes into cancer and comes out as unscathed as I did. Some people have to rearrange their lives while they fight. Some people fight for years. Some people don't win their battle. I have lost family and loved ones to cancer, and it's a fate that I'd like to see reduced.

So please take a moment to support me on my ride in the Ride to Conquer Cancer 2016 with the Silver Bullets team. Your donations put a smile on my face and are a constant reminder that I'm doing my little bit of good in this world, by using what strengths I do have.

You can click through to my personal donation page to support my pledge to raise $3,500 for the BC Cancer Foundation.

Thank you in advance!

I'd also love to hear your story. You can share it in the comments or send it to me privately (and I'll keep it private).