I had an epiphany of sorts. It wasn’t something that happened in an instant but rather an awareness that slowly grew and started with the word “Choice” and ended with Gratitude.
For those of you who have been reading my blog you know I have been on an emotional rollercoaster over the past several months. And in reality I have been on a search for the past 3 years. A search for meaning in a time when nothing makes sense. A search for hope when it feels all is lost. A search for myself when it seems I had disappeared. Three years is a long time to search.
I have been fortunate to have family, friends, doctors, nurses, and a therapist who have stood by me during this search. I imagine it is a painful thing to watch and I know for my family it sometimes took over in a way that was unpleasant to say the least. But here I am on the cusp of a new beginning and very hopeful for the first time in a long time!
As I said above, it all began with the word “CHOICE”. My therapist gave me this word. A simple concept in theory but not always an easy concept to carry out in life. My interpretation of that session was that I have a choice, not only in the things I may or may not do everyday or the way I treat my cancer or the pair of socks I put on in the morning. But in the way I deal with every moment of the day. I have a choice to react with anxiety, fear, anger and despair, or to choose to react from a different place. And this simple idea gave me peace in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I could CHOOSE to react with calmness, quietness, love, faith or hope. Simple no? But powerful to me!
So little by little I started to change. I noticed the times I remembered that I had a choice. I noticed that things were better when I exercised this choice. Sometimes I forgot and my days would slowly spin out of my control. But sometimes I remembered and my days would become peaceful.
Then it was time for the Holidays, and a thread started on Facebook about being Thankful and commenting on what we are thankful for over the month of November. This got me thinking about all the little and big things I am thankful for. Another slight shift in my thinking piled on top of ‘choice’. The holidays tend to be times that are stressful and this year was no different. It is my cancerversary time, crazy with Holiday preparations, and work was especially busy during December. Anxiety and fear were starting to pile on. But I fought it back as much as I could with ‘choice’ and ‘thankfulness’. And having the time to be with family and friends was a great reminder of so many things I am thankful for.
Directly in the midst of Christmas and New Years I had a quarterly PET Scan scheduled. This is generally a very high anxiety and fear time for me. And I was anxious, as my friend Jody can attest to when she talked with me the night before the results. But I was not as overwhelmed with the feelings as I usually am. Here again I had the benefit of ‘choice’ and ‘thankfulness’ and I had been reading a wonderful book entitled "Living Life as a Thank You ; The Transformative Power of Daily Gratitude" by Nina Lesowitz and Mary Beth Sammons.
The quote that starts off the first chapter is “Don’t be concerned about being disloyal to your pain by being joyous” by Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan. Now this may not mean anything to many of you and others will get it right away. For me it was like a light bulb went of in my head. I was holding on to my pain and fear. I was afraid that if I didn’t stay in the fear then I would get devastatingly hurt again by life as I had twice already. I was also afraid I would jinx things by being happy or expecting the best as life had already showed me it can dish out the worst with one crushing blow. And finally I did not want to let go of the pain because if I showed happiness and joy then people might not know how truly horrible this cancer experience has been. All things made up in my mind by the enemy, fear, anger, despair. And as my friend Alison Popky said when I told her this, “Letting go is scary…even if what you are holding sucks.”
So I decided to let go. I let go as much as I could. There is still some anxiety, fear and sadness of course but I am ‘choosing’ not to focus on them. I am ‘choosing’ to take my life back from cancer and the negative emotions that come with it. I have given up 3 years of my life and that has to stop now. I will be okay no matter what. And I will have fun and be joyous. I will do the things I want to do and not ‘wait to get the results’.
So here I am today. I started with “choice” traveled through some thankfulness, the Holidays, a Pet Scan, letting go and have landed in Gratitude. For me the power of gratitude is just starting to work its magic in my life. Being grateful does not mean pretending that everything is honky-dory. To me living with gratitude means knowing that things will most definitely not always be honky-dory but choosing to focus on the things that are good and hopeful. Choosing to focus on the things that make me happy and have brought richness and meaning to my life. The big and the small things. Some days it is hard and other days it is easy. But each day I will strive to focus on gratitude. It makes me happy, it makes me feel good.
Does this mean that I am grateful for cancer because it has brought me to this point? HELL NO. But I can’t help but be grateful for some of the things that have happened in the wake of cancer. And I choose not to go crazy thinking about whether or not I would have gotten here without cancer. It is what it is. I choose to move forward from here. I choose to find happiness and live a full and joyous life. I am stronger than ever before and I choose gratitude!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Friday, December 18, 2009
3 Year Cancerversary
This term ‘Cancerversary’ is used by many in the Cancer Community and generally defines the time when your life changed due to cancer. The exact date of a ‘cancerversary’ for any survivor is a personal, individual moment on the timeline of their life. Some use the date of diagnosis, surgery, the start or end of chemo or the end of all treatment. I consider my Cancerversary to be the day I had my official diagnosis from my Surgeon, which happens to be December 18th, one week before Christmas.
So today I observe my 3 year Cancerversary. I was going to write ‘celebrate’ but realized it doesn’t exactly feel like a celebration, at least not yet. I mean maybe someday down the road it will feel more like a time to party and feel glad that I am so far away from that one moment in time. But I am not there yet. I am still too close to it all.
And when I think about how to mark time related to my cancer it gets confusing. There really are so many dates. The day I found the lump, which was November 27th 2006. I saw my OB/GYN doc on December 1st who orders a mammogram and ultrasound. These tests were done on December 8th. I saw a surgeon about a needle biopsy on December 14th. I go back that same day for the biopsy as the surgeon thinks it is important and now I know things are bad, but still hold out some hope.
And then on Monday, December 18th as I am about to go help out with my daughter’s Brownie Troop after school I get the call from the surgeon, and my life has changed for sure.
After that there are many more significant dates stamped on my timeline. Mastectomy Surgery on January 8th; First AC chemo on February 6th; Taxol and Herceptin started on April 3rd; Last Taxol chemo on May 15th; Radiation went from early June to mid July, 61/2 weeks. I continued Herceptin until March and got my port-a-cath removed on April 1st. There are many other somewhat less significant dates along the way. As I was saying to my friend the other day, from November 27th 2006 to April 1st 2008, I went no more than 3 weeks without seeing a doctor or having a test or getting a shot or doing something related to my cancer.
And shall we begin the second timeline? October 2008 I start feeling some pain in left shoulder blade but expect it is due to activity like running, lifting weights, yoga and shoveling snow. It comes and goes. Blood work from my October oncology visit is fine. On December 30th 2008 I see my Radiation Oncologist for a final check-up, it has been a year and a half since I finished radiation. He says I look great and I don’t need to see him anymore! I happen to be seeing my surgeon for a 3 month check-up a week later in January 2009. It is 2 years since my surgery. I mention the shoulder blade pain to her and she suggests a bone scan and chest x-ray, she is thorough and likes to be sure things are fine. She is about to give me the okay to start 6 month check-ups. I go for the bone scan and they see something they want to check further so I am scheduled for a PET Scan. This comes back with a spot on my First Thoracic Vertebra and the circus has come to town again. Begin the treatment treadmill. I go for a CT guided needle biopsy on January 29th. It totally sucks (read my blog post called ‘Biopsies-R-Us’) and it is inconclusive. So on Friday, February 13th (yes that’s right Friday the 13th and it is 2 days before my 44th birthday!) I go for another biopsy, at a different place, which goes much smoother and is conclusive; the breast cancer has spread to this one spot. So I go through more Radiation, through the month of March 2009. I started on shots of Lupron and pills of Femara and infusions of Zometa. These treatments continue. I get PET Scans every 3 months, the next one is December 29th.
So many dates fill my head. I am a walking calendar. I feel like the circus has not stopped since that day back in December when my doctor called me with the news. Three years of the circus is quite enough. I am done now. I would like to join the monastery instead. I am hoping that I will land somewhere in between the 2, between the circus and the monastery. Just a normal life with different dates filling my head. Like a date night out with my husband.The date of my daughter’s next concert.The date of our next family get-together. The date of my next trip to a new land. The date of my next lunch with a friend. The date of my next chat with my online friends. The date of the next road race I will run. These are the dates I want to fill my head and my life. These are the moments I want to celebrate.
So for me, my Cancerversary will be a day to honor the struggle, remind the cancer I have won, and celebrate LIFE and all the truly important dates still to come.
So today I observe my 3 year Cancerversary. I was going to write ‘celebrate’ but realized it doesn’t exactly feel like a celebration, at least not yet. I mean maybe someday down the road it will feel more like a time to party and feel glad that I am so far away from that one moment in time. But I am not there yet. I am still too close to it all.
And when I think about how to mark time related to my cancer it gets confusing. There really are so many dates. The day I found the lump, which was November 27th 2006. I saw my OB/GYN doc on December 1st who orders a mammogram and ultrasound. These tests were done on December 8th. I saw a surgeon about a needle biopsy on December 14th. I go back that same day for the biopsy as the surgeon thinks it is important and now I know things are bad, but still hold out some hope.
And then on Monday, December 18th as I am about to go help out with my daughter’s Brownie Troop after school I get the call from the surgeon, and my life has changed for sure.
After that there are many more significant dates stamped on my timeline. Mastectomy Surgery on January 8th; First AC chemo on February 6th; Taxol and Herceptin started on April 3rd; Last Taxol chemo on May 15th; Radiation went from early June to mid July, 61/2 weeks. I continued Herceptin until March and got my port-a-cath removed on April 1st. There are many other somewhat less significant dates along the way. As I was saying to my friend the other day, from November 27th 2006 to April 1st 2008, I went no more than 3 weeks without seeing a doctor or having a test or getting a shot or doing something related to my cancer.
And shall we begin the second timeline? October 2008 I start feeling some pain in left shoulder blade but expect it is due to activity like running, lifting weights, yoga and shoveling snow. It comes and goes. Blood work from my October oncology visit is fine. On December 30th 2008 I see my Radiation Oncologist for a final check-up, it has been a year and a half since I finished radiation. He says I look great and I don’t need to see him anymore! I happen to be seeing my surgeon for a 3 month check-up a week later in January 2009. It is 2 years since my surgery. I mention the shoulder blade pain to her and she suggests a bone scan and chest x-ray, she is thorough and likes to be sure things are fine. She is about to give me the okay to start 6 month check-ups. I go for the bone scan and they see something they want to check further so I am scheduled for a PET Scan. This comes back with a spot on my First Thoracic Vertebra and the circus has come to town again. Begin the treatment treadmill. I go for a CT guided needle biopsy on January 29th. It totally sucks (read my blog post called ‘Biopsies-R-Us’) and it is inconclusive. So on Friday, February 13th (yes that’s right Friday the 13th and it is 2 days before my 44th birthday!) I go for another biopsy, at a different place, which goes much smoother and is conclusive; the breast cancer has spread to this one spot. So I go through more Radiation, through the month of March 2009. I started on shots of Lupron and pills of Femara and infusions of Zometa. These treatments continue. I get PET Scans every 3 months, the next one is December 29th.
So many dates fill my head. I am a walking calendar. I feel like the circus has not stopped since that day back in December when my doctor called me with the news. Three years of the circus is quite enough. I am done now. I would like to join the monastery instead. I am hoping that I will land somewhere in between the 2, between the circus and the monastery. Just a normal life with different dates filling my head. Like a date night out with my husband.The date of my daughter’s next concert.The date of our next family get-together. The date of my next trip to a new land. The date of my next lunch with a friend. The date of my next chat with my online friends. The date of the next road race I will run. These are the dates I want to fill my head and my life. These are the moments I want to celebrate.
So for me, my Cancerversary will be a day to honor the struggle, remind the cancer I have won, and celebrate LIFE and all the truly important dates still to come.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Thankful
As Thanksgiving draws near there has been much talk on FaceBook about what we are thankful for and trying every day of November to post these thoughts. It has made me think about all the people in my life who I am thankful for especially those who made/are making my experience with cancer much more manageable. These are my supporters and Co-Survivors. They say it takes a Village to raise a Child. I think it takes a Village to Survive Cancer. So this is a big ‘Thank You’ note to my Village!
The Village consists of so many people in so many different capacities, just like a real village. There are the many families in town who I know to varying degrees that cooked us meals, walked the dog, and sent care packages with everything from peppermint candies and magazines to jammies and socks. There were phone calls and emails and letters. There were flowers and fruit baskets. And there were donations to foundations in my name. There were trips to appointments as far away as Boston. My daughter’s school supported us as well. Teachers, counselors, the librarian and many others were aware of her potential needs and always ready to help. And of course the multitude of medical staff who cared for me, my nurses, doctors, technicians, administrative staff and even the valet car parkers at Dana Farber who smiled at me every day when I arrived for radiation. And currently my Village has some new members from the world of Twitter and FaceBook. I have been fortunate to ‘meet’ many people who are always ready to support and encourage me, to laugh and cry with me.
When it was time for surgery I called my good friend Linda. Linda has a husband, 3 kids, dogs, cats, chickens and some other creatures to care for, but without hesitation she jumped on board and started taking care of me too. She stayed overnight in the hospital with me after my mastectomy. She accompanied me on 5 of my 8 chemos, driving 40 minutes to my house to pick me up and take me another 45 minutes to the hospital, spending anywhere from 5 to 8 hours with me hooked up to toxic chemicals, playing Cribbage while I was spaced out on Benadryl and watching Ellen, The View and other more dubious day time TV shows in the chemo room. She also took me on many of my trips to Boston for radiation, PET Scans, and visits with my doctors. She makes me laugh and treats me like I am the same person I have always been. That is the beauty of 25 years of loving someone I guess.
And of course there is my family. My extended family helped with visits from Virginia, many talks on the phone, trips to appointments, and humor. My Dad gave us a trip to Florida to visit him, rest and recover. My In-laws were also a huge help bringing us food and taking extra special care of Sophia. And during my first radiation treatments my Father-in-law drove me almost every day to Boston and back while my mother-in-law took care of Sophia because it was summer-time and she was out of school.
My Mom came to stay with us for my surgery and spent a week taking care of us every month for 4 months while I had chemo. She also came to help out during radiation, often driving me to Boston. She cleaned my house and made all our meals and did our laundry and generally made life so easy for us during such a difficult time. Knowing she was here allowed me to relax and know everything would be taken care of even if I didn’t lift a finger. My daughter Sophia continues to be a huge source of inspiration and motivation. It was so hard going through this with her, but without her I don’t know how I could have done it. And watching her mature and grow during my 3 years fighting cancer has been so amazing! And last but certainly not least is my husband Nick. He has struggled with my cancer in a way only your truest, loving-est life partner ever can. And he has remained and always will remain my strongest source of comfort and support. He does it in a quiet way. He sat by the bed and watched me as I slept. He took care of the business and the house and the daughter and the dog for the many months I was unable to. He came to realize in a more profound way all I am to him and now reminds me of it daily with a hug or a kiss or just holding my hand.
I am so thankful for all of these people. The list is long, and I am so grateful for that. I am one of the lucky ones. It is hard to see that in the midst of all the badness. But knowing how hard others have it because they don’t have a village to support them has made me realize how fortunate I am. Thanks so much to everyone who has supported me and continues to support me. And if anyone ever needs to start a Village for themselves please let me know, I’ll be there!
The Village consists of so many people in so many different capacities, just like a real village. There are the many families in town who I know to varying degrees that cooked us meals, walked the dog, and sent care packages with everything from peppermint candies and magazines to jammies and socks. There were phone calls and emails and letters. There were flowers and fruit baskets. And there were donations to foundations in my name. There were trips to appointments as far away as Boston. My daughter’s school supported us as well. Teachers, counselors, the librarian and many others were aware of her potential needs and always ready to help. And of course the multitude of medical staff who cared for me, my nurses, doctors, technicians, administrative staff and even the valet car parkers at Dana Farber who smiled at me every day when I arrived for radiation. And currently my Village has some new members from the world of Twitter and FaceBook. I have been fortunate to ‘meet’ many people who are always ready to support and encourage me, to laugh and cry with me.
When it was time for surgery I called my good friend Linda. Linda has a husband, 3 kids, dogs, cats, chickens and some other creatures to care for, but without hesitation she jumped on board and started taking care of me too. She stayed overnight in the hospital with me after my mastectomy. She accompanied me on 5 of my 8 chemos, driving 40 minutes to my house to pick me up and take me another 45 minutes to the hospital, spending anywhere from 5 to 8 hours with me hooked up to toxic chemicals, playing Cribbage while I was spaced out on Benadryl and watching Ellen, The View and other more dubious day time TV shows in the chemo room. She also took me on many of my trips to Boston for radiation, PET Scans, and visits with my doctors. She makes me laugh and treats me like I am the same person I have always been. That is the beauty of 25 years of loving someone I guess.
And of course there is my family. My extended family helped with visits from Virginia, many talks on the phone, trips to appointments, and humor. My Dad gave us a trip to Florida to visit him, rest and recover. My In-laws were also a huge help bringing us food and taking extra special care of Sophia. And during my first radiation treatments my Father-in-law drove me almost every day to Boston and back while my mother-in-law took care of Sophia because it was summer-time and she was out of school.
My Mom came to stay with us for my surgery and spent a week taking care of us every month for 4 months while I had chemo. She also came to help out during radiation, often driving me to Boston. She cleaned my house and made all our meals and did our laundry and generally made life so easy for us during such a difficult time. Knowing she was here allowed me to relax and know everything would be taken care of even if I didn’t lift a finger. My daughter Sophia continues to be a huge source of inspiration and motivation. It was so hard going through this with her, but without her I don’t know how I could have done it. And watching her mature and grow during my 3 years fighting cancer has been so amazing! And last but certainly not least is my husband Nick. He has struggled with my cancer in a way only your truest, loving-est life partner ever can. And he has remained and always will remain my strongest source of comfort and support. He does it in a quiet way. He sat by the bed and watched me as I slept. He took care of the business and the house and the daughter and the dog for the many months I was unable to. He came to realize in a more profound way all I am to him and now reminds me of it daily with a hug or a kiss or just holding my hand.
I am so thankful for all of these people. The list is long, and I am so grateful for that. I am one of the lucky ones. It is hard to see that in the midst of all the badness. But knowing how hard others have it because they don’t have a village to support them has made me realize how fortunate I am. Thanks so much to everyone who has supported me and continues to support me. And if anyone ever needs to start a Village for themselves please let me know, I’ll be there!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Post-Treatment Stress Disorder: Healing and Dealing
So you’re done with treatment, you’ve had your last chemo, your last radiation appointment and you don’t have to go see any more doctors, nurses or hospitals for at least 3 months….now what do you do? I think that the majority of people would assume, “WOOT! WOOT! I am free and I can get back to my life now! Yea!” But I am here to tell you the reality is a bit different, at least for me. Yes there is some of that relief and excitement of being over a MAJOR hurdle. But there is also fear and anxiety, which post-treatment have been much more prevalent for me than the joy. In fact, since I was diagnosed with breast cancer almost 3 years ago I have not experienced much joy in my life, but I have experienced many days and nights and weeks filled with fear, anxiety and depression.
When I was going through treatment I have to say that I lived very much in the moment. I was focused very much on the present and getting through each day, each treatment, each appointment, one at a time. I did not look at the big picture, at least not after that initial shock of being diagnosed and jumping to a bleak future in my mind. And by staying in the present I was able to get myself through. If I could just make it one more day and then one more day eventually I would be through to the other side of this hell. And what I found in that present was that I was good at fighting cancer. And I was good at being a patient. I was strong and I had a good attitude. And people kept telling me what a good job I was doing and what an inspiration I was. My Radiation Oncologist said to me “You are and A+ patient!” And like the story goes, cancer even made me better looking because since I’ve had cancer everyone tells me how good I look, which they never told me before!
Then treatment ends. And the constant attention from your doctors and nurses and your family and friends slowly subsides. But inside you are not ready for that. My immediate reaction to “So, we’ll see you in 3 months” was “Oh crap! That’s too long!” Because even though your body is ready for a break, your mind is just getting started. Now you don’t know what to do with all this time on your hands and extra time is just what your mind starts to feed on. Every ache, twinge, soreness, pimple becomes a source of obsession and worry. You are so scared that left unattended the cancer is sure to come back. No one is watching guard anymore, except for you and your overworked mind.
As friend and Breast Cancer Survivor Marie Ennis O’Connor put it, “My days were my own again, but I was unsettled and lost. My emotional and psychological landscape had changed dramatically and I needed to find a new way to be in the world. While the battle for survival ended, a new challenge was beginning – how to make sense of the experience of cancer and integrate it into my new normal. Now the time for real healing begins.”
Friend and Breast Cancer Survivor Jody Schoger put it this way, “…I think the challenge of cancer actually begins once treatment is done, and you must adjust to a new body, an altered mind, and a sense of betrayal about the nature of life itself.”
So I am on the road to healing and dealing with life after cancer. I have lived through a diagnosis and treatment and then even through my worst nightmare…a recurrence, the words ‘metastatic disease” and more treatment. I am grappling with carrying on and fighting depression that is sometimes worse than the cancer ever was. I stand in the shower for much too long swaying back and forth under the hot water not wanting to leave the sanctuary of that tiny warm space. I want to curl up in a ball and hide. I want to lay in my bed with the covers pulled over my head and rest in the darkness. I want to wall myself off from the world and everyone in it. This is truly how it feels many days. And I am writing this to let people know that it is a reality many people face. And everyday I fight against the forces of evil. I get out of bed and go for a run. I call a friend and have lunch. I drive my daughter to school. I work with my husband. I walk the dog. I go through the motions every day. I “fake it till I make it”. Some days are easier than others of course and there are good times. But it is constant vigilance right now. I stand guard. I have hope that as time goes by the depression and anxiety and fear will diminish. And hope is a powerful thing. It is with hope, faith and love that I get through to the next day, and the next. And thankfully my family and friends are here to give me their hope, faith and love too.
To read more from Marie please visit “Journeying Beyond Breast Cancer” by clicking on the link at the right side of this page.
To read more from Jody please visit “Jody’s LiveStrong Challenge” by clicking on the link at the right side of this page.
When I was going through treatment I have to say that I lived very much in the moment. I was focused very much on the present and getting through each day, each treatment, each appointment, one at a time. I did not look at the big picture, at least not after that initial shock of being diagnosed and jumping to a bleak future in my mind. And by staying in the present I was able to get myself through. If I could just make it one more day and then one more day eventually I would be through to the other side of this hell. And what I found in that present was that I was good at fighting cancer. And I was good at being a patient. I was strong and I had a good attitude. And people kept telling me what a good job I was doing and what an inspiration I was. My Radiation Oncologist said to me “You are and A+ patient!” And like the story goes, cancer even made me better looking because since I’ve had cancer everyone tells me how good I look, which they never told me before!
Then treatment ends. And the constant attention from your doctors and nurses and your family and friends slowly subsides. But inside you are not ready for that. My immediate reaction to “So, we’ll see you in 3 months” was “Oh crap! That’s too long!” Because even though your body is ready for a break, your mind is just getting started. Now you don’t know what to do with all this time on your hands and extra time is just what your mind starts to feed on. Every ache, twinge, soreness, pimple becomes a source of obsession and worry. You are so scared that left unattended the cancer is sure to come back. No one is watching guard anymore, except for you and your overworked mind.
As friend and Breast Cancer Survivor Marie Ennis O’Connor put it, “My days were my own again, but I was unsettled and lost. My emotional and psychological landscape had changed dramatically and I needed to find a new way to be in the world. While the battle for survival ended, a new challenge was beginning – how to make sense of the experience of cancer and integrate it into my new normal. Now the time for real healing begins.”
Friend and Breast Cancer Survivor Jody Schoger put it this way, “…I think the challenge of cancer actually begins once treatment is done, and you must adjust to a new body, an altered mind, and a sense of betrayal about the nature of life itself.”
So I am on the road to healing and dealing with life after cancer. I have lived through a diagnosis and treatment and then even through my worst nightmare…a recurrence, the words ‘metastatic disease” and more treatment. I am grappling with carrying on and fighting depression that is sometimes worse than the cancer ever was. I stand in the shower for much too long swaying back and forth under the hot water not wanting to leave the sanctuary of that tiny warm space. I want to curl up in a ball and hide. I want to lay in my bed with the covers pulled over my head and rest in the darkness. I want to wall myself off from the world and everyone in it. This is truly how it feels many days. And I am writing this to let people know that it is a reality many people face. And everyday I fight against the forces of evil. I get out of bed and go for a run. I call a friend and have lunch. I drive my daughter to school. I work with my husband. I walk the dog. I go through the motions every day. I “fake it till I make it”. Some days are easier than others of course and there are good times. But it is constant vigilance right now. I stand guard. I have hope that as time goes by the depression and anxiety and fear will diminish. And hope is a powerful thing. It is with hope, faith and love that I get through to the next day, and the next. And thankfully my family and friends are here to give me their hope, faith and love too.
To read more from Marie please visit “Journeying Beyond Breast Cancer” by clicking on the link at the right side of this page.
To read more from Jody please visit “Jody’s LiveStrong Challenge” by clicking on the link at the right side of this page.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Sick and Tired of Feeling Sick and Tired
Sometimes having cancer seems like the ultimate insult from my own body. I mean when did my body decide to have a mind of its own?? When did it let in the enemy?? I am guessing from what I have read that the enemy has been with me for years, unbeknown to me. And perhaps I can’t blame it entirely on my body as I know it had some accomplices. My guess would be that pollution, processed food, chemicals sprayed on food, toxins in the ground water, toxins in my health and beauty products, toxins in our cleaning supplies and who knows what else, have contributed to my cancer.
One could go crazy trying to take control over all the accomplices to cancer. I have gone to all natural soaps, shampoo, and lotions. I use natural dish soap and detergents around my house. I try to buy organic foods and eat very little to almost no processed foods. I happen to live in the tailpipe of the country however, so air pollutants are hard to avoid. But we can control these variables only so much, and keep our sanity at the same time!
So with all these attempts to control the outer forces of evil in place, I then turn again to my body. How could it betray me like this?? I remember that once I was diagnosed with breast cancer I couldn’t wait to get the cancer surgically removed. Now that doesn’t mean I was excited about surgery, far from it, but what it means is that each day that I walked around with cancer in my body I felt a certain despair and disgust. I would look at the offending breast with disdain. And after quickly weighing all the treatment options I went ahead with a left side mastectomy. It felt good to have the cancer gone.
After treatment for a recurrence I find myself again in a position where I feel betrayed by my body. I feel fragile and vulnerable. I feel like my life is not my own…. and I hate that. Just last weekend I was completely depleted and had to sleep late and rest a lot and take a day off from exercise. Now I don’t mind sleeping late and resting. Those of you who know me know that I love to wake up at 11am on a Saturday morning and that the Olympic napping gene runs in my family. But I like to do these things on MY TERMS not my body’s terms, and certainly not cancer’s terms. And I realize that this isn’t just my body’s fault. It has been through a lot. It has been run through the rigors of chemo, radiation twice, and various other meds and procedures. My poor body was aged instantly and thrown into menopause. And I am here to tell you that instant menopause sucks. There is the weight gain, and the mood swings, and the hot flashes. It is all true! My eyes had trouble after chemo and my knees would get a bit achy and I would be stiff or sore. And occasionally a doctor would say, “Well you are getting older!” And I thought “Hell, this can’t all be because I am in my 40’s now!”
I know there is a fine line between kicking cancer’s butt and allowing yourself to recover. But that line is hard for me to walk down. I want to work hard and live my life and prove to cancer that I am in control. But sometimes my body, and honestly my mind too, can’t hack it. And that is when frustration sets in. And frustration doesn’t help anyone but that is where I find myself, the line between kicking butt and recovering is painted with frustration. Each day I work to erase that line. And I know some of this frustration comes from feeling like I’ve served my time and now I deserve a “Get Out of Jail Free” card. Like I should never have another ache or pain or sickness in my life. But that is not the way things work. I guess instead of being upset with my body I need to work with it. Team up and fight together against this nasty intruder. I need to use my mind, body and soul to get my life back to where I want it. Right now it feels like constant vigilance is required. Here’s hoping that the further I get from cancer the closer I get to me.
One could go crazy trying to take control over all the accomplices to cancer. I have gone to all natural soaps, shampoo, and lotions. I use natural dish soap and detergents around my house. I try to buy organic foods and eat very little to almost no processed foods. I happen to live in the tailpipe of the country however, so air pollutants are hard to avoid. But we can control these variables only so much, and keep our sanity at the same time!
So with all these attempts to control the outer forces of evil in place, I then turn again to my body. How could it betray me like this?? I remember that once I was diagnosed with breast cancer I couldn’t wait to get the cancer surgically removed. Now that doesn’t mean I was excited about surgery, far from it, but what it means is that each day that I walked around with cancer in my body I felt a certain despair and disgust. I would look at the offending breast with disdain. And after quickly weighing all the treatment options I went ahead with a left side mastectomy. It felt good to have the cancer gone.
After treatment for a recurrence I find myself again in a position where I feel betrayed by my body. I feel fragile and vulnerable. I feel like my life is not my own…. and I hate that. Just last weekend I was completely depleted and had to sleep late and rest a lot and take a day off from exercise. Now I don’t mind sleeping late and resting. Those of you who know me know that I love to wake up at 11am on a Saturday morning and that the Olympic napping gene runs in my family. But I like to do these things on MY TERMS not my body’s terms, and certainly not cancer’s terms. And I realize that this isn’t just my body’s fault. It has been through a lot. It has been run through the rigors of chemo, radiation twice, and various other meds and procedures. My poor body was aged instantly and thrown into menopause. And I am here to tell you that instant menopause sucks. There is the weight gain, and the mood swings, and the hot flashes. It is all true! My eyes had trouble after chemo and my knees would get a bit achy and I would be stiff or sore. And occasionally a doctor would say, “Well you are getting older!” And I thought “Hell, this can’t all be because I am in my 40’s now!”
I know there is a fine line between kicking cancer’s butt and allowing yourself to recover. But that line is hard for me to walk down. I want to work hard and live my life and prove to cancer that I am in control. But sometimes my body, and honestly my mind too, can’t hack it. And that is when frustration sets in. And frustration doesn’t help anyone but that is where I find myself, the line between kicking butt and recovering is painted with frustration. Each day I work to erase that line. And I know some of this frustration comes from feeling like I’ve served my time and now I deserve a “Get Out of Jail Free” card. Like I should never have another ache or pain or sickness in my life. But that is not the way things work. I guess instead of being upset with my body I need to work with it. Team up and fight together against this nasty intruder. I need to use my mind, body and soul to get my life back to where I want it. Right now it feels like constant vigilance is required. Here’s hoping that the further I get from cancer the closer I get to me.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Twisters
No, this is not a story about tornadoes. Although the Twisters I am writing about can bring on a huge storm of support, caring and healing when times are bad…or good.
I am a social networking addict. There, I’ve said it. That is part of the recovery right? First you have to admit there is a problem and then you can move on to fixing the problem. But I’m not really that bad. I only use Facebook and Twitter. I have 50 ‘friends’ on Facebook. Yes, that’s all, just 50 friends. A very small number for a self-proclaimed social networking addict. On Twitter I have 150 followers and I follow 180 people. This may sound like a lot but these really are very small numbers, and some of my ‘followers’ are phonies. And while I do need to figure out a way to control my time spent on Facebook and Twitter I am here to explain that social networking has its good points.
I am a cancer survivor who is still in treatment and getting frequent scans to be sure that the cancer is not coming back. This is a very stressful time for me and there are only so many ways to deal with this stress. I jog, take walks on the beach with my family, and listen to meditation and affirmation recordings. These are all great and very useful but they are not very interactive.
That’s where Twitter and Facebook come into play. But there is a dilemma. Do I post about my upcoming cancer tests or not? I debated this issue for a while in my mind. I really wasn’t sure what to do. It seems like a very private thing to post on such a seemingly public forum. And I sometimes worry that posting it on Facebook or Twitter looks like a desperate plea for attention. It feels a bit like airing your dirty laundry in public, like showing up on the Maury Povich show to reveal some dirty little secret. I guess this is how cancer wants us to feel. It wants us to stay isolated so it can beat us. I guess this is why there is a stigma associated with cancer, because sometimes it does feel like a dirty little secret.
But my experience with the men and women I know on Facebook and Twitter is unique and invaluable. In fact I have coined a phrase with the women I know on Twitter. They are my Twitter Sisters or as I now call them…my Twisters.
My Twisters give me unending support, encouragement, and positive energy. They post songs that make me want to sing along. They light candles for me in tiny, beautiful churches in Ireland and post pictures of these churches. They post links to very funny You-Tube videos that make me laugh. They remind me of how strong I am and how strong I can remain. They tell me things I want to hear. They make me feel better, it actually works. I came home on Tuesday, after my most recent PET Scan (which was all clear!), to Twitter and Facebook and all sorts of positive comments from my Twisters. And it helped me feel so much more positive, so much less stressed. I felt so much more like things were going to be okay, no matter what, but mostly I just felt a sigh of relief, contentment, a belonging. My Twisters were rallying around me, they were circling the wagons. I was being cradled in their supportive cyber-arms from all around the world and it felt so good. So say what you will about the evils of technology and social networking, but I am sticking with my Twisters. They know how to make a girl feel wanted, needed, supported and loved, all through a blinking computer screen. Power to the Twisters!
I am a social networking addict. There, I’ve said it. That is part of the recovery right? First you have to admit there is a problem and then you can move on to fixing the problem. But I’m not really that bad. I only use Facebook and Twitter. I have 50 ‘friends’ on Facebook. Yes, that’s all, just 50 friends. A very small number for a self-proclaimed social networking addict. On Twitter I have 150 followers and I follow 180 people. This may sound like a lot but these really are very small numbers, and some of my ‘followers’ are phonies. And while I do need to figure out a way to control my time spent on Facebook and Twitter I am here to explain that social networking has its good points.
I am a cancer survivor who is still in treatment and getting frequent scans to be sure that the cancer is not coming back. This is a very stressful time for me and there are only so many ways to deal with this stress. I jog, take walks on the beach with my family, and listen to meditation and affirmation recordings. These are all great and very useful but they are not very interactive.
That’s where Twitter and Facebook come into play. But there is a dilemma. Do I post about my upcoming cancer tests or not? I debated this issue for a while in my mind. I really wasn’t sure what to do. It seems like a very private thing to post on such a seemingly public forum. And I sometimes worry that posting it on Facebook or Twitter looks like a desperate plea for attention. It feels a bit like airing your dirty laundry in public, like showing up on the Maury Povich show to reveal some dirty little secret. I guess this is how cancer wants us to feel. It wants us to stay isolated so it can beat us. I guess this is why there is a stigma associated with cancer, because sometimes it does feel like a dirty little secret.
But my experience with the men and women I know on Facebook and Twitter is unique and invaluable. In fact I have coined a phrase with the women I know on Twitter. They are my Twitter Sisters or as I now call them…my Twisters.
My Twisters give me unending support, encouragement, and positive energy. They post songs that make me want to sing along. They light candles for me in tiny, beautiful churches in Ireland and post pictures of these churches. They post links to very funny You-Tube videos that make me laugh. They remind me of how strong I am and how strong I can remain. They tell me things I want to hear. They make me feel better, it actually works. I came home on Tuesday, after my most recent PET Scan (which was all clear!), to Twitter and Facebook and all sorts of positive comments from my Twisters. And it helped me feel so much more positive, so much less stressed. I felt so much more like things were going to be okay, no matter what, but mostly I just felt a sigh of relief, contentment, a belonging. My Twisters were rallying around me, they were circling the wagons. I was being cradled in their supportive cyber-arms from all around the world and it felt so good. So say what you will about the evils of technology and social networking, but I am sticking with my Twisters. They know how to make a girl feel wanted, needed, supported and loved, all through a blinking computer screen. Power to the Twisters!
Friday, September 18, 2009
Cancer is a Full-Time Job
I have said many times that Cancer diagnosis, treatment and recovery is a full-time job for patients and caregivers. So I tried to imagine what the write up in the newspaper would look like.
Job Description: Cancer: seeking people of all ages to participate in long-term full-time job opportunity.
Tasks and Responsibilities:
Will be required to change your life course instantly to begin the job.
Will be required to communicate with physicians, nurses and insurance providers on a daily basis.
Will be responsible for orienting and mentoring new staff members.
Applicant Qualifications:
Must be willing to change your appearance as needed for the job - for example; lose your hair, lose weight, gain weight, body parts removed, body parts adjusted, body parts rebuilt.
Must be capable of translating foreign languages such as medical jargon, insurance codes and bureaucratic paperwork.
Must be willing to travel on a daily basis and attend meetings frequently.
Must have good organizational skills including; filling out and handling medical history forms, making frequent calls to various medical staff and medical institutions and scheduling appointments without overbooking.
Must be a hard worker, willing to put in overtime.
Must be of sound mental, emotional and physical abilities as all will be severely tested.
Must be tough as nails.
Must be made of Fortitude, Courage and have an Indomitable Spirit.
Caregiver Applicants must also have the following qualifications:
Chauffeur, Cook, Babysitter, Counselor, Dog Walker and Back Scratcher.
Benefits:
No Pay, No Vacation time, You MUST show up when you are sick.
Benefits for Caregiver Position same as above but also include:
Unending Love and Gratitude
Experience is helpful but not necessary; there will be plenty of on-the-job training.
Cancer is an Equal Opportunity Employer. Cancer does not discriminate based on age, sex, race or social status.
Please address your resumes to Hell, Attention Satan.
I did not apply for this job but was drafted against my will. I was wishing there was a trial period and the boss would decide to fire me, but apparently I am really good at this job, so they promoted me to Stage 4. I guess the boss figures I can handle the really tough customers. So now my job is to tell cancer where it can go if it wants to make a return. Our company policy is no returns!
Job Description: Cancer: seeking people of all ages to participate in long-term full-time job opportunity.
Tasks and Responsibilities:
Will be required to change your life course instantly to begin the job.
Will be required to communicate with physicians, nurses and insurance providers on a daily basis.
Will be responsible for orienting and mentoring new staff members.
Applicant Qualifications:
Must be willing to change your appearance as needed for the job - for example; lose your hair, lose weight, gain weight, body parts removed, body parts adjusted, body parts rebuilt.
Must be capable of translating foreign languages such as medical jargon, insurance codes and bureaucratic paperwork.
Must be willing to travel on a daily basis and attend meetings frequently.
Must have good organizational skills including; filling out and handling medical history forms, making frequent calls to various medical staff and medical institutions and scheduling appointments without overbooking.
Must be a hard worker, willing to put in overtime.
Must be of sound mental, emotional and physical abilities as all will be severely tested.
Must be tough as nails.
Must be made of Fortitude, Courage and have an Indomitable Spirit.
Caregiver Applicants must also have the following qualifications:
Chauffeur, Cook, Babysitter, Counselor, Dog Walker and Back Scratcher.
Benefits:
No Pay, No Vacation time, You MUST show up when you are sick.
Benefits for Caregiver Position same as above but also include:
Unending Love and Gratitude
Experience is helpful but not necessary; there will be plenty of on-the-job training.
Cancer is an Equal Opportunity Employer. Cancer does not discriminate based on age, sex, race or social status.
Please address your resumes to Hell, Attention Satan.
I did not apply for this job but was drafted against my will. I was wishing there was a trial period and the boss would decide to fire me, but apparently I am really good at this job, so they promoted me to Stage 4. I guess the boss figures I can handle the really tough customers. So now my job is to tell cancer where it can go if it wants to make a return. Our company policy is no returns!
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