Breast Cancer, Long Hair, and Babies
It's widely known that I work for the American Cancer Society. And by widely known, I mean most of the people in my immediate circle know that. But my name gets out there through the event I manage.
My "official" title is: Senior Community Development Manager, MSABC Mega Events
If that isn't overly long, I don't know what is... So what does it mean? What do I do?
Primarily, I'm the event manager for Making Strides Against Breast Cancer of Silicon Valley (MSBAC/Strides/Making Strides, etc.). Our Strides event is the only breast cancer awareness walk serving the Peninsula, South Bay, and Central Valley communities. In 2017, Making Strides of Silicon Valley raised just over $950,000 and hosted about 13,000 walkers. This year, we're slated to raise over $1M and host 15,000 walkers.
As the Community Development manager I work with companies to secure sponsorship and steward the community champions from those companies, act as a resource for folks who want to learn more about the walk, partner with an amazing committee of women to plan event day and pre-events, like our Kickoff Celebration and Strides Shines at Night. I mean, there's also a lot more, I wear a lot of hats...
This job is a looooonnnnnggggg way from art school and being a graphic designer - a career I had for over 7 years. I'd like to say it was a hard decision to leave my previous job, and for the most part, it was. But, honestly, the hardest part was knowing that I would be seemingly giving up my passion for creative arts and graphic design. I still do some work as a freelancer, and much to my manager's dismay, I insist on creating all necessary artwork because, well, duh!
And did you see that "Senior" in my job title? It means I applied for (and accepted) a promotion earlier this year. I had been working for the Society for less than one year when I was encouraged to apply for a new position. A promotion?! I had never in my life been offered a promotion. Ok, maybe once, when I was made head instructor at a swim school, but I was 21... This was a real job, with a real promotion.
So why leave my career and why the American Cancer Society? I can't really explain why I left my career. I don't believe in fate, really. But the position I first applied for in January 2017 had been open for many months. I kept hearing about it, and finally I thought, I could do this job, maybe I should apply... And now here we are... One of my managers at my previous job used to say "Relax! It's not like we're curing cancer!" Except this time, I'm helping to do that...
I love the American Cancer Society for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which being how I've seen, first hand, the amazing programs and services offered to patients enduring a diagnosis. I love hearing stories of survivors, and I cry every damn time I watch an opening, luminaria, or closing ceremony at Relay For Life.
But here's a secret. Like, a legit s-e-c-r-e-t I can't ever remember telling anyone. ever.
I. Love. My. HAIR. Long, short, black, brown, red, purple, curly, flat-ironed, pinned up... I'll always love it.
Ok, that's not the secret. Here's the secret: I'm terrified of losing my hair.
Part of the reason I support organizations like the American Cancer Society is the research. While a cure would be great in my lifetime, I also hope for better treatments. Chemo is literal poison that kills your whole body - that's why most patients lose their hair. I'm realistic about my cancer risk. I spent a lot of time in the sun when I was younger (skin cancer), many women in my family have had breast cancer, and I'm overweight (colorectal cancer). If (and maybe when) ever I'm diagnosed with cancer, I don't know what I would do if I lost my hair... So, I work for an organization I love, in hopes that someday, treatments might be better, and I might not lose my hair...
Selfish? Vain? Shallow? Sure. I openly admit that I'm actually really vain... But if my family and friends don't lose their hair, don't vomit violently from their treatments, don't feel like garbage after infusions, well, then I'll keep on keepin on...
And finally, just so everyone knows, I'm not pregnant, yet. We had no luck during our first cycle. I was upset, but more than that, I was mad at myself for getting upset about a negative pregnancy test. I've had negative tests for more than 3 years, why on earth would I have thought we'd get a positive after our first cycle with the help of an infertility specialist?
So now, on our second cycle, and after the folicular ultrasound and "trigger shot", I'm. Just. Waiting. Have you heard of the "two week wait"? I had never heard of it. It's, apparently, the 2 weeks post ovulation where you hope (beyond all hope) a fertilized egg stuck to your uterine lining, and you'll see a positive pregnancy test.
As always, your good vibes are always appreciated.
Absolutely!
My "official" title is: Senior Community Development Manager, MSABC Mega Events
If that isn't overly long, I don't know what is... So what does it mean? What do I do?
Primarily, I'm the event manager for Making Strides Against Breast Cancer of Silicon Valley (MSBAC/Strides/Making Strides, etc.). Our Strides event is the only breast cancer awareness walk serving the Peninsula, South Bay, and Central Valley communities. In 2017, Making Strides of Silicon Valley raised just over $950,000 and hosted about 13,000 walkers. This year, we're slated to raise over $1M and host 15,000 walkers.
As the Community Development manager I work with companies to secure sponsorship and steward the community champions from those companies, act as a resource for folks who want to learn more about the walk, partner with an amazing committee of women to plan event day and pre-events, like our Kickoff Celebration and Strides Shines at Night. I mean, there's also a lot more, I wear a lot of hats...
This job is a looooonnnnnggggg way from art school and being a graphic designer - a career I had for over 7 years. I'd like to say it was a hard decision to leave my previous job, and for the most part, it was. But, honestly, the hardest part was knowing that I would be seemingly giving up my passion for creative arts and graphic design. I still do some work as a freelancer, and much to my manager's dismay, I insist on creating all necessary artwork because, well, duh!
And did you see that "Senior" in my job title? It means I applied for (and accepted) a promotion earlier this year. I had been working for the Society for less than one year when I was encouraged to apply for a new position. A promotion?! I had never in my life been offered a promotion. Ok, maybe once, when I was made head instructor at a swim school, but I was 21... This was a real job, with a real promotion.
So why leave my career and why the American Cancer Society? I can't really explain why I left my career. I don't believe in fate, really. But the position I first applied for in January 2017 had been open for many months. I kept hearing about it, and finally I thought, I could do this job, maybe I should apply... And now here we are... One of my managers at my previous job used to say "Relax! It's not like we're curing cancer!" Except this time, I'm helping to do that...
I love the American Cancer Society for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which being how I've seen, first hand, the amazing programs and services offered to patients enduring a diagnosis. I love hearing stories of survivors, and I cry every damn time I watch an opening, luminaria, or closing ceremony at Relay For Life.
But here's a secret. Like, a legit s-e-c-r-e-t I can't ever remember telling anyone. ever.
I. Love. My. HAIR. Long, short, black, brown, red, purple, curly, flat-ironed, pinned up... I'll always love it.
Ok, that's not the secret. Here's the secret: I'm terrified of losing my hair.
Part of the reason I support organizations like the American Cancer Society is the research. While a cure would be great in my lifetime, I also hope for better treatments. Chemo is literal poison that kills your whole body - that's why most patients lose their hair. I'm realistic about my cancer risk. I spent a lot of time in the sun when I was younger (skin cancer), many women in my family have had breast cancer, and I'm overweight (colorectal cancer). If (and maybe when) ever I'm diagnosed with cancer, I don't know what I would do if I lost my hair... So, I work for an organization I love, in hopes that someday, treatments might be better, and I might not lose my hair...
Selfish? Vain? Shallow? Sure. I openly admit that I'm actually really vain... But if my family and friends don't lose their hair, don't vomit violently from their treatments, don't feel like garbage after infusions, well, then I'll keep on keepin on...
And finally, just so everyone knows, I'm not pregnant, yet. We had no luck during our first cycle. I was upset, but more than that, I was mad at myself for getting upset about a negative pregnancy test. I've had negative tests for more than 3 years, why on earth would I have thought we'd get a positive after our first cycle with the help of an infertility specialist?
So now, on our second cycle, and after the folicular ultrasound and "trigger shot", I'm. Just. Waiting. Have you heard of the "two week wait"? I had never heard of it. It's, apparently, the 2 weeks post ovulation where you hope (beyond all hope) a fertilized egg stuck to your uterine lining, and you'll see a positive pregnancy test.
As always, your good vibes are always appreciated.
Absolutely!
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