Not Letting This Go

It has definitely been a long time since I have posted an entry.  Life has gotten in the way which is a good thing.  Treatments are finished, Dr appointments are minimal, genetic testing is over (all negative,) busy with work,  and duties between Ladysmith and Ottawa.

Organizing the fundraiser has certainly taken up much more time than even I ever imagined.  It has consumed any spare time I had, and more.  There have been tears shed, sleepless nights and frustrations vented.  As much as I try to remind myself of the words I wrote in my last entry with regards to my God child's fundraising campaign; it often gets forgotten.

Now I need to get something off my chest.

Yesterday I was at a store, promoting our event, women in film,  the Cancer Foundation and cancer care in the Ottawa area.  We had a display set up with some information and the purpose was to talk about what we were doing and why we were doing it.  Of course I keep tickets for sale in my purse at all times but also know people would not make such an impulse purchase so the intention was not to make people buy tickets on the spot.

Having worked trade shows, handing out flyers, etc for various things over the years, I am accustomed to people hurrying past, avoiding eye contact while saying "No thanks."  It is the name of the game. They are unaware of who you are, what you are doing and there is a fear that you will try to sell them something.

I approached one man yesterday who brushed past me and very abruptly and, in my opinion, very rudely said "No. I'm not interested!"  To which I retorted; "Well I hope you never need their services."

Now I had his undivided attention.

He stopped, turned and said "I give back many ways.  What a horrible thing to say."  And he kept walking.

He returned a few moments later.  At this point I was speaking with a woman who lost her husband to cancer and whose sister had breast cancer.  I interrupted her and turned to the man and said "I owe this man an apology."

He asked for my name and when I told him; he replied "I'm not letting this go."

Obviously, neither am I as I have spent the last 24 hours thinking about this altercation.

After more thought, I feel the need to clarify what I am apologizing for.  This is my cause and although cancer has touched almost every single person I have met; it doesn't have to be everyone else's cause.  I have no clue who this person is and what his story is.  He may passionately contribute to another great cause that has touched the lives of him and his family.  Maybe he was having a bad day.  Maybe the tone he used with me is how he communicates.  I don't know.

I was raised in an era, where if you were not polite to your elders, you got a good spanking. How I handled the situation was not right and when I am wrong; will admit to it.  Being a better person, requires practice and improvement.  I'm fallible.  So I readily admitted to him that I was wrong. However, I was also raised to stand up for my beliefs, defend myself.  If someone is rude to me, I don't hang my head and shy away.  Its not in my nature.

So this entry is my way of putting out my apology and explanation into the universe in hopes that it may reach him.

I apologize for the bad timing of my comment and for my motivation of saying it. For a split second I instinctively felt the urge to defend my cause.  I  will admit the delivery was a retaliation to him just "not being interested" in cancer care.

Planning this fundraiser was my and Jennifer's way of helping many people at one time.  On Friday, I had passed by the chemo unit at the hospital.  I believe every single bed and chair was full. My heart went out to all of them.

 We selected the Cancer Foundation because they provide funding for research, counselling  and many other services that are not just for the patient but also their loved ones who are as equally affected.  The Cancer Foundation is bound by geographical limits so they not provide support to our Ottawa friends and families but also in the Pontiac.  I will admit that this fundraiser is part of a sub concious healing process for me, in that I can find a purpose behind my diagnosis.

Therefore,  I will NOT apologize for my words spoken to him

"I hope you never need their services."

It is NOT a horrible thing to say.  In fact, my regret is that I wish I had said it to everyone who passed by me.

I never hope anyone has sit through two weeks of emotional and psychological hell, only to be told "Yup, you have cancer."

I never hope a child looks their parents in the eye and says "I have cancer" and subsequently watches their emotions

I never hope anyone has to put their life on hold to receive treatments.

I never hope for anyone to be cancer free but always in the back of their head, have a fear of it returning and wonder if every ache and bump could be cancer.

I never hope for anyone to hold the hand of their breast cancer buddy while at the funeral for their  young friend with two small children who lost their cancer battle that seemed perfectly healthy three weeks earlier.

I never hope anyone calls the widow of a friend who lost his battle while she explains the final weeks of her husbands life.  Expressing his anger, his desire "to do things differently," securing all affairs, expressing "funeral wishes,"  the incoherence caused by the pain medication and his final moments.

I never hope anyone receives a call from a scared friend who is being tested for cancer and as they try to assure them everything will be alright;  says;"I don't think I can handle treatments.  I want to run away and die alone."

I never hope anyone reaches out to a high school friend whom you have not spoken to in years, after receiving news they are stopping his father's cancer treatments to offer emotional support.

I truly and sincerely hope that this man or anyone else will never require support, treatments, services related to cancer.

I'm not letting go until I have touched, helped and supported as many people as God will let me.

Life Lessons from an Eight Year Old

Now that I am finished treatments and life is supposed to return to normal.  I decided to complicate it again and start a fundraiser with Jennifer.

Vixens Victorious was created by Jennifer and myself as our way to give back to the community.  So far it has been an incredible learning experience and I am amazed at my drive and determination to make our film festival fundraiser, Lights! Camera! CURE! a success.

But it has not been easy – There have been challenges and successes.  This is a lot of hard work - Even more than I anticipated in order to get things moving and so many little details to consider.  Between my regular job and the fundraiser, I feel like I am working two full time jobs.  There are weeks where I dedicate 15-17 hours during lunch or evenings to this project.  There are sleepless nights, worrying about how we are going to accomplish everything we set out to do and the little hamster in my head, spins constantly in its wheel

Our committee is a great group of girls but I need to constantly remind myself that they have jobs, lives and families.  Although I do push them to remain accountable for what they have agreed to do and respect deadlines, I cannot expect them to live, eat and breathe Vixens Victorious.   I must admit that I get frustrated because being a German Virgo, I like to be in control and know exactly what is happening at all times.  Some days, I wonder if we are taking on too big of a project during our first year and we should have started with a bake sale. 

Last week I received a call from my 8 year old god daughter and she really put things into perspective for me.

Actually she called the week before and I missed her call because I was at a meeting.  I tried calling back without success so I emailed her mother to let her know that I have been very busy but will try to get back in touch soon.  He mom replied that Chelsey had something she wanted to share with me.

The guilt set in and I wished I would have tried harder to reach her.

Five days later, I called Chelsey as soon as she got home from school.  She wanted to tell me that she and her friends sold rainbow loom bracelets to raise money for cancer (research.)  Furthermore, I learned this was her initiative and her parents were not aware of what she was doing. Her mother wanted to donate the amount to our event, Lights! Camera! CURE!

I was completely humbled and ashamed.  I have been so wrapped up in my own world that I have begun to lose sight of what the end goal really is: To selflessly give.  Naturally, I want to raise as much money as possible, but if my contribution is only 1$, then I have still made a difference (please note I really hope it is more than 1$)  An eight year girl took it upon herself to utilize her talents in making bracelets and sell them to people who wanted to help.  I don’t think she cared who bought her bracelets or even how much she sold them for.  Her action plan was simple and her goal of just selling bracelets to raise money for a good cause was front row and centre in her mind.

Furthermore, I delayed getting back to Chelsey, making her wait to share with me her news

We were raised in a faith based home.  Church and Sunday school were part of a routine for me, as it is for Chelsey.  When I think about our call, and how excited she was to tell me; tears form in my eyes.  I am reminded of a line in the Christmas hymn; In the Bleak Midwinter

What can I give him, as poor as I am? 

If I was a shepherd, I would give a lamb….

Yet what can I give?  Give with my heart

I am so proud of her and want to encourage the spirit of giving in her.  If she has started at 8 years old, what can she do when she is 28 years old or 38 years old?

Instead of wondering if we took on too big of a project, I wonder if I possess the right type of leadership skills, to co- direct with Jennifer a project such as this.  I need to learn patience, humility, determination and more compassion than what I have.  It’s something I need to work on.

Again this week, I was further encouraged by my friend Joe.  During a conversation he reminded me how cool it was to be doing something where I am doing something that doesn’t increase my bank account but in the end should make me grow as person. 

Yeah.  He is right. That is pretty cool and I hope Chelsey follows in her aunti Jen's footsteps 

Chelsey and I  - Christmas 2013

This Ship Sails Out of the Port

I had my port removed yesterday. 

The port was a small device inserted into my chest, just days before I started chemo.  It allowed me to receive treatment without destroying what little veins I would have left (as chemo therapy can make veins collapse)  It was inserted into my chest, just under the collar bone and a small tube was attached to a vein in my neck.

It was a life saver, however in the past few months, there were a few minor issues with using it.  It seems to be been clogged periodically.  Nothing visible showed up in Xrays, and we assumed there may have been a kink in the tube.   It usually worked after performing after a variety of movements recommended by the nurses, including the hokey pokey and the YMCA while standing on my head.

I was looking forward to having the port removed. I received a fantastic sedation during the insertion which made me, at least in my opinion, incredibly funny.  So funny that I repeat my one punch lines 3-4 times.  So you can imagine to shock and disappointment when I was told there would only be a local freezing.

I sat down for my pre consult with the nurse

“So last time you were here, we had sedated you…”

I interrupt her; “Yes please!” 

“Well, you won’t be receiving it this time.  It is just a freezing.” 

She then proceeded to go into the details of how the report will be removed.  I don’t need or want to know the gory details.  I am quite content in my ignorance.  Besides, it is going to happen whether I know how it is accomplished or not. 

I argued well into the procedure that it would be more enjoyable for all of us if I was drugged. 

The procedure was rather quick and effortless.  I experienced a little discomfort and wiggled like a three year old while the doctor removed the tubing and port. 

I asked to see what it looked it….a small white plastic box with a silicon circle.  I could see all the needle points in the silicon, representing each time I received a treatment.  Quite fascinating how what appears to be a simple piece of plastic could alleviate so much discomfort to the body.

Post care includes keeping the bandages on until Sunday, no gym or heavy lifting for a week, Tylenol for any pain and the part I dreaded to hear the most…

“No showers until at least Sunday.”

Yeah – like that is going to happen.  As soon as I got home last night, I installed my hand held shower and auditioned for the circus once again; which is how I describe taking a shower, without getting the bandages wet

The port had become a part of my body for the past 17 months.  I often forgot it was there.  It didn’t cause me any pain or discomfort and had it not been for the “clogging” issue, could have cared less whether they removed it or left it in. I never thought much about it.

Now I really do not need to ever think about it again.

The Birth of Vixens Victorious

Today something beautiful was born and officially introduced to the world!

Vixens Victorious – a fundraising organization, co founded with my childhood friend, Jennifer; is comprised of an incredibly talented and dedicated group of women who we have met and worked with over the years.  We support the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation by raising awareness and much needed funds to support research, clinical trials and vital programs that are made available to people whose lives have been impacted by cancer, within our community.

Why do I liken to a birth of a child?

Cancer is an ugly thing.  In addition to my own challenges during the last year and a half, I witnessed others around me.  In the chemo unit, I watched others who, while receiving treatment, seemed not to be handling it well, physically or emotionally.  Last summer, I lost a former employer and friend to cancer.  Later in October, I watched a young family bury a fellow vixen and just recently, attended a visitation on Monday for a friend whose father lost his battle with cancer.  I spoke with friends have been tested and some diagnosed with the dreaded c word.  They confided in me their darkest thoughts and fears.  Hearing someone you care about tell you they would prefer to “run away and die alone” is gut wrenching but when you have walked in their shoes, you understand.

But there is a positive side.  I have told you many times that cancer has changed my life…and for the better.  I want to help.  I want to do something meaningful.  As my chemo ended, I started to ponder about how I could give back to the community and the Cancer Foundation, which has given so much to me.  In the fall of 2014, Jennifer approached me with the idea of a film festival and Vixens Victorious was born.

This tour is not what I expected it to be.  At the start, I wanted to receive treatment, get well and move on; with a little rock n roll flair and humor along the way.  If you would have told me; that I would be launching a fundraiser in 2015, I would have rolled my eyes.  And yet here I am.

In fact when Christian was in town for my last chemo, he encouraged me to consider starting a fundraiser or non-profit….and I think I did roll my eyes at him.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was afraid to tell Jennifer.  Her mother had lost her battle to pancreatic cancer only a month earlier.  She had been diagnosed just 8 weeks before!  It was a difficult and frustrating process for Jennifer and at that point, she and her siblings were still in the process of settling affairs.  I didn’t want to add to her emotions, burdens or stress.  If you would have told me in August 2013, that Jennifer and I would be putting on a film festival to raise funds for the community, I would not have believed you.

Our committee is comprised of women that we have met over the years.  We have former colleagues – I worked with Vivian at Holt Renfrew over 10 years ago.  Paula and I worked together six years ago.  Team Captain Meta was a no brainer, as was my colleague Pam.  But I have always admired these women and they are an incredible addition to our team.   Emily has worked with Jennifer for a long time and her connections and talents will make the film selection amazing.  We have other friends – I have known Brigitte the least longest but we hit it off right away and I am so happy that she decided to join us.   And we are so lucky to have friends such as Laura, Moreen and Anne who are contributing to the cause as well.  Again, if you would have told me in August 2013 that these amazing women would meet, come together and commit the level of time and energy we expect from them in order to make Lights! Camera! CURE! a success, I would have said “not likely.”

So out of a crappy situation that some will view as bleak, desolate and dark; rises something incredibly beautiful -  A group of women who have also been affected by cancer, in one way or another, have banded together and will stand beside Jennifer and myself.  Vixens Victorious is our baby and we are very proud of our beautiful baby.  We have the same expectations as a parent.  We will love, support and nurture it, hoping that Vixens Victorious grows into something great which improves our community and subsequently, the world!

www.vixensvictorious.ca

BRCA Mutations: Not Quite Xmen Style

Earlier last week, Angelina Jolie made headlines with her decision to remove her ovaries and fallopian tubes.  A few years ago, she tested positive for a mutation in her BRCA1 gene that makes her pre disposed to having breast and ovarian cancer.  To be proactive, she has chosen a full mastectomy, and her ovaries and fallopian tubes removed

Ironically, I started the process for genetic testing last week to see if I carry the mutation.

The request was made in November 2013 after my diagnosis and only now am I starting the process.  It is a very costly test and obviously there are priority cases ahead of me (couples trying to conceive, children born with something that could be tied to genetics, etc)

A year and half after diagnosis, I enter CHEO to speak with a genetic counsellor. 

The cause of cancer can be broken down into three categories:

60% - is sporadic

30% - is familial (multiple reasons)

5-10% - is hereditary

Hereditary cancer is suspected when several family members in more than one generation are diagnosed before the age of 50 with cancer.  Geneticists look for patterns in the family’s medical history

We begin by reviewing my cancer diagnosis, treatment and then review my family history.

“Boy, do you ever have a small family!” She remarked

“Yeah,” I think to myself “and this is exactly why I fought so hard for testing.”

The original observation was there was no family history of breast cancer but once you draw my family tree, you will also see there are not enough women/people to form a strong opinion, one way or another.  I am an only child, so was my father and few women when you reach my grandparents’ siblings. 

The first observation was that a paternal great aunt who was also diagnosed before the age of 50.  There are a couple of other noted cases of cancer but that occur later on in life. 

She then asks if any of my parent’s first cousins have cancer.  Now growing up in a small community where everyone is related, answering these questions is relatively easy.  Jeez – I can back as far as third cousins’, twice removed if she wishes.

Then she asks if there is any Jewish ancestry in the family.  I mention, not thinking it would be relevant, that apparently my great, great, great grandmother was Jewish.  I walked into this counselling session with a 1.6% chance of carrying the mutation.  Now my chances for testing positive, just shot up. 

“Really?”  I ask “But we are going back to late 18^th century!” 

It doesn’t matter how far back.  The instant there is any trace of Jewish ancestry, the chances of testing positive are higher.

The counsellor then reviews the type of treatment options I may want to consider should I test positive:

Breasts: Frequent MRIs, in addition to mammograms or a full mastectomy

Ovaries: Testing for ovarian cancer is very difficult (internal ultrasounds can be performed but since it is hard to even find your ovaries on the ultrasound, finding cancer is even more of a challenge).  You can test your CA125 levels, which at this time I am not sure exactly what that means or you can go the surgical route and remove ovaries.

Maybe it is considered dramatic but I am in favour of the surgical route for both.

Since I am not planning on having children, this is not an issue.  After experiencing a post chemo menopause during the summer, if there is not urgency to remove my ovaries, I would likely wait a little while longer before I have the surgery.  Hot flashes are about as exciting as jabbing myself repeatedly with a fork.

We also discussed the pros and cons of knowing if I carry the BRCA mutation;

Pros:

1.        It will explain why I got breast cancer in the first place

2.       I will know if I am at a higher risk for a reoccurrence but look at the above options to reduce my risk

3.       It will alert my family that the mutation is in our family and they can monitor themselves accordingly

4.       Family members can also test to see if they have the mutation

Cons:

1.        Create a constant worry – Am I ticking time bomb?

2.       Parents can feel extreme guilt with regards to causing their child to develop cancer

3.       Tension within the family.  Some family members may want to know as it creates anxiety.

4.       Difficulty or Inability to get life insurance

Wow!  I didn’t think of the cons and how it would affect my loved ones.  I am fine with myself – I already battled cancer and in my head, I wouldn’t be shocked if it returned.  I just expect it much later in life the second time around.  But the thought of my parents blaming themselves or causing stress on others as they try to start their families with this knowledge in the back of their minds, etc; made me feel really sad.  And I started to cry…and I continued to be emotional about it throughout the day.

The next morning, I discussed the pros and cons with my dad.  I should have figured he has no guilt and assured me that this test would help the family in taking care of themselves and getting checked regularly – which ultimately is a good thing.

Getting back to the testing

I decided there was no turning back while I was at the counsellor and moved forward with the testing. 

It is a simple blood test and results take 4-6 to return. 

I go to the lab in CHEO to get my bloodwork done.  I tell the technician that I am more of a “baby” when it comes to drawing blood than the four year old that was ahead of me.  She offers to freeze my arm.

“You can do that??”

Now why don’t they do that anywhere else?  That would have saved a whole lot of headaches.

“Can I have a sticker?”

I sort through the drawer and select Spiderman and Hot Wheels stickers for my nephews.

And now I wait for the results

The New Normal

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions!

My post treatment mammogram did not go exactly as planned on February 24th.  I got a call back two days later that I required more tests....WTF???

I just broke down at my desk.  How could this happen?  What did they find?  Immediately, I reached out to some fellow vixens.  They were able to calm me down.  Two of them received a call back when they had their mammograms.  Phew!  I was still worried but likely it was nothing.

I called my family physcian that evening.  She had not received a report yet and assured me that because I had just gone through cancer treatment and at a very young age, everyone is going to scrutinize my tests.

I felt better and when I had my physical a couple of days later, read the report.  It talked of a nodule in the left breast at 6 O'clock.  "Well that's the same lump I had biopsied in 2011.  That's no big deal.  The last report said 4-5 O'clock but tomatoe/tomato.  Right?"

Turns out it isn't the same lump.  Its a new lump and the process began again.

When I started my blog, it was just before my surgery in October 2013 and I had already been struggling with the emotions that are associated with cancer for about two months.  As you may have read, I talked about the emotions surrounding the testing period and dealing with the unknown.  But by the time I expressed these feelings here, my mindset had shifted to determination and wanting to get treatment over with.

I have waited until I had a proper diagnosis from my medical team before posting this.  But I wanted a raw entry about my feelings with each test/appointment.  This post has been in the works since March 3rd as a draft. As I re-read this, although there were some less than pretty days, I am proud how I pulled myself out of a slump.

Day 1:
Yesterday, Meta came with me to visit my oncologist.  After my appointment the day before with my family physician, I figured there was not going to be any new information.  Its just a change to a lump that was already in my breast.

As I walking out the door, I got a call from my surgeon's office to book an appointment..  Hmmmm....that was a little unnerving.  Well maybe, they want to remove the lump or just having her on stand bay in case a needle biopsy is required.

When I arrived to my oncologist, Dr Song and another oncologist, Dr Jacobs entered the room.  There were a lot of concerned faces and I was told that a new lump has appeared next to the old one.  There was a 50/50 chance that cancer has returned but judging by what happened next, both doctors were leaning towards cancer.  They wanted to move quickly and determine if it is cancer; and what kind because it may not be HER2+ this time around.  They were happy that my surgeon had already reached out.  I already had an ultra sound booked on March 11th (and don't get me started on that clusterfuck) and they would try to squeeze me in for an MRI before the end of the month.  They also wanted to expedite my genetic testing as it could affect my treatment, should I carry a predisposition.

That was about the exact moment, I broke down.  What the fuck was the last year and a half for?

And I was right back where I started in August 2013.

As we approached my office, I broke down sobbing.  Meta just drove right past my building and said "You are coming home with me."  And just like last time, broke out some alcohol and let me sit there and cry.  Meta and I both looked at one another and she said "Jen, They think you have cancer."  Yup I had to agree.

So this is what rattles around in my brain next:
So did my treatment not work and now I'm full of cancer?
What is my life expectancy?  Am I going to die?  I don't want to die
Why does this happen to me?
God must really hate me
Will I handle this as well as the first time?
Should I just throw in the towel?
Why am I reacting this way?  I have been preaching how I am never going to let cancer win and here I am, right back where I started.  I am scared, vulnerable and helpless.  My skin is blotchy, I haven't eaten and my eyes are swollen from crying.  I know I should not be hard on myself but why am I letting this disease beat me??

By the time I went to bed, I felt a little stronger and had a bit of a "you are going to kick ass again" moment.  I slept well but by the time I rolled into the office, I was crying again.

So far in the last two days, I prefer just being alone as opposed to being surrounded by friends.  I haven't decided if that is good or bad.

Day 7:
Had my MRI this morning.  I laughed when the technician was walking me through the process and letting me know that an MRI is nothing to be afraid of.

"I'm not afraid of the MRI.  I'm afraid of the results." I tell him

Since you are forced to lie still, face down for 20 minutes, they offer to place headphones over your ears and you can listen to the radio.  They asked what radio station I prefer as I walked in.  I liked the house music they were playing but quickly realized that was the sound of the MRI machine....

I decided on a local country music station since they advertise "10 000 songs in a row."  Of course when they place the headphones on my head it is commercial time and when the machine starts, it is so noisy I can't hear music any ways.

Last Thursday I was beginning to return to my old self.   My appetite was coming back and I wasn't breaking down every hour.  We did a work team building activity and it certainly got my mind off the situation.  I don't think I have cried since Thursday morning

I have suffered from somewhat frequent nightmares and night terrors, my whole life.  It is hard to explain but I dream that I am in a bad or violent situation.  But I know its a dream and all I need to do is wake myself up.  So I start screaming or shouting "Wake up"  At first I can't make a sound but I keep trying harder and harder and eventually I wake myself up (shouting in my sleep....Jeez I guess I am even loud when I am sleeping) and then I'm fine.

I equate my reaction to Tuesday's news as the same as waking myself up from a nightmare.  Not the situation itself.  Trust me; this cancer scare shit is very real and it's happening.  But how I react, feels like a bad dream.  I said I would never let it invade my spirit and here I am, once again, letting it affect my daily routine.  I am stronger and better than this and I needed to pull myself out of it.  I need to wake up

During my lunch on Friday, I met a man who was blind and in a wheel chair; feeling his way along a building.  I stopped to offer help.  He was simply trying to make his way to the next door to get a hair cut....I felt humbled.  He faces challenges every day just to accomplish simple tasks like making it down the street.  We are all faced with challenges of varying degrees.  I posted a quote on Facebook "Being challenged is inevitable.  Being defeated is optional."  I see a new tattoo in my future.

Day 8:
Today was another mammogram and ultrasound.  Meta came with me into diagnostic imaging area, despite protests of the staff.  Thank goodness!  My wait time was almost 2 hours and if I had to sit there alone, I would have been a puddle.  It was a busy place.  I overheard one woman tell another that she found a lump.  There was another woman, that Meta and I seemed noticed who seemed visibly upset/nervous.  I regret not giving her a hug.  I was lucky enough to have support with me.

I had the same technicians from my mammogram, two weeks earlier.  They were incredibly sympathetic and one hugged me as I started to cry.  She showed me what they found in the last mammogram and it was a small lump of aprx 9 mm.  Considering my last lump was 2 cm, that didn't seem so bad.  It's deep and near my rib cage so it was difficult to get good images and likely why I didn't feel it.  They did the best they could to get clear shots.  It's worse than picture day in school.

After waiting for an eternity, I went in for my ultrasound.  The technician said very little except to anticipate a biopsy.  I already know that.  I wish they would have told me more and I argued that the psychological damage is already done so there isn't much more they can say or do. Their retaliation is that they are not doctors and the mammograms/ultrasound and MRI need to be reviewed together.

It's interesting to see the difference in attitude between the mammogram technicians and the ultrasound technicians.  One of the mamo techs' mother is currently going through breast cancer testing/diagnosis.  I'm putting money down on the possibility the ultrasound techs haven't had breast cancer hit close to home.

But looking for hope, I left, as Meta describes, "cautiously optimistic."  I looked for signs:  After a few images, I asked if the lump had "little legs"  One technician answered an undefined "No" but when I asked again, neither would confirm or negate.  This time the radiologist was not present and they certainly didn't take dozen of images.  That's hopeful??

Day 8 - 7:00 PM
I was out having dinner with Ang and noticed I missed a call from my family Dr.  Crap!  I have instructed her to always leave a voice mail - no matter what the news.

Her message started out with "I'm sorry to leave a voicemail...."

I could hear my heart beating in my ears.

She continued; "But I wanted to let you know that you can breathe easier tonight...."

The lump appears to be benign.

I started crying tears of happiness at the table.  I looked over at Ang and tears were running down her face too.

I remain cautiously optimistic.

Day 15

I saw my surgeon and it was a brief and positive appointment.  She is very confident that the tumour is benign and a biopsy is not necessary.

She cringed when I told her that I want a full mastectomy with reconstruction and reminded me that it isn't a simple surgery and my breasts won't look the same.  I explained how I went completely crazy for two weeks.  I can't live like this with each mammogram.  There has been five lumps found in my breasts over the years.  Four are considered benign and the other one?  Well, you know the story there.  The next mammogram or the one after will not be any different.....My track record is lumps; good or bad

She understood my point and I assured her that I will think very hard and research before making a decision.

I still need to complete my genetic testing before any thing can be done.  The outcome will determine what kind of mastectomy and how much they will take away.  It will take about 1-2 months to get those results.

If I chose to use my surgeon, she does the "removal" part and she has one plastic surgeon that she prefers to work with who does the reconstruction.  But he has a lengthy wait list.  Again, I am fine with taking time to make a clear educated decision. I just googled him and he has good reviews.

So this is my new "life."  Every time a test pulls up something abnormal, my medical team swings into "combat" mode to quickly determine if it is cancerous or not.  Hopefully, as time passes, these situations become fewer and fewer.

In the mean time, I can plan a well deserved vacation

End of the Line

Wow!  Tomorrow is the big day....My very last treatment.

I hope my last cancer treatment forever.

Its been one hell of a year and a half  I have learned so much about myself, about others, about cancer.

When I started chemo in November 2013, I would only focus on the following three weeks.  That was the exact amount of time it took for my immune system to hit rock bottom and swing upwards, just in time to receive another treatment.  I certainly didn't think about February 2015 and being finished. In fact even when chemo and radiation ended and I was receiving just Herceptin, I never gave the end date a second thought until the nurses commented at my December treatment that I only had three treatments left.

"Really???  That's it?"

My gut reaction included how I was going to miss the nurses and everyone I met in the chemo unit. What an incredibly caring bunch of people.   There was also an uneasiness that maybe I needed more cancer treatments.  Could my oncologist not give me something else just to make sure cancer doesn't return?

The question I get asked the most by people is "What's next?"

1. The nurses in the chemo ward are not entirely rid of me yet.  I still need to pay them a visit every three months to flush my port until it is removed.  Depending on what my Oncologist advises, it could be there up to five years.  But since I have been having issues draining the port, I suspect it will come out sooner rather than later.  But even "sooner" can take up to a year as it is more important for someone, starting treatment to receive a port rather than little old me getting one out.  However, I look forward to that glorious day of more sedation.

2. I have a post treatment mammogram and ultra sound.  This will be the first one since August 16th 2013... The one where it all began.  I am a little nervous about the mammogram part.   The scar tissue has made it hard to determine if there are any lumps in the area and post surgery tingling can create a little paranoia.  What if they find another lump? What if the last year was all for nothing?  One can't help but wonder.

3. Visit with my Oncologist - post mammogram and every six months afterwards.  In between I visit my Radiation Oncologist.  I forget how long that lasts and after a while the visits become less frequent.

4. Another echo in about a year to make sure that the Herceptin treatments haven't damaged the way blood flows into my heart

I am a little nervous at times about being released back into the wild.  I was warned by my Oncologist.  You have been followed so closely and receive treatments that in theory kill everything and then one day it stops.  Its like taking the blanket away from Linus

Another part of me has already moved on.  I forget to check my messages and have lost track of an appointment here and there....That's ok .  I still visit the hospital enough times that someone keeps me in check.

The main thing I need to do, post treatment is to continue living....Live every day to its fullest.  I am already starting to plan another year of amazing experiences; including one of  the biggest and most rewarding  experiences:   Planning a fundraiser with Jen...The two Jens!  Back in action and an almighty force.

Since I started treatment, I thought about how I could give back  to the cancer community.  I was so fortunate to have the support I did from family and friends.  The treatments were not too hard on my system and from a psychological/ emotional point, I think I handled everything well.  When Christian was in town last March, he was already planting the seed to start my own fundraiser.  Of course I wanted to get through surgery, radiation and the remainder of my treatments.  8 months later, Jen approached me with a film festival idea she had and the wheels started to turn!  Stay tuned for amazing stuff to happen by a group of women who answer to the name Vixens Victorious!

Sometimes I think I am too ambitious, too early in the game.  What if cancer returns?  What if  I am not as resilient to treatments? My immune system has not returned to where it was before all of this began. I have been consistently sick with a cold or flu this winter. I get discouraged at times but remind myself that I am ten times more active than someone who has not had cancer treatments

At the end of the day I am incredibly proud of myself. How I handled dealing with Cancer, how I have tried to give back and how I have grown emotionally

My Friend Meta

In November, I received an email about a "Co-survivorship award" that was linked to one of the cancer newsletters I subscribe to.  It was looking for stories about people, friends,  or family who provided support to people who are/were facing cancer treatments.  Instinctively, I wanted to nominate Meta.  She went above and beyond any expectations I had.

Some pretty incredible stories have been short-listed and were released today for voting.  Unfortunately my story was not selected and that's fine.  There are countless people, not only across Canada but world wide, that have made incredible sacrifices to provide care and support to their loved ones who are dealing with cancer and one person isn't more deserving than the other.

But I didn't want Meta to go unrecognized and decided to share my submission.  I am thankful for all that she has done and although I am pretty sure she knows how grateful I am, wanted everyone else to know as well.

Thanks Ron for helping me edit, without losing the sentiment :-)

Magical Mystery – Fact and Feeling.

What magical mystery of life transforms a professional acquaintance into a friendship so strong that you forever see things in a new way?

Cancer!

But only under proper management…and I don’t mean medical management in a hospital room. I mean world-class, stadium-sized, festival management, blasting with music, crowded with joy, life, love and an endless stream of future tomorrow hopes…

I liken my cancer journey to a Rock ‘n Roll tour, and Meta Murphy has been my Band Manager, my Roadie, my Groupie…my biggest fan.

Meta is a former colleague who retired six months before my diagnosis.  We were friendly but never did anything outside of work. The first two weeks after learning I likely had breast cancer, I lost my mind.  I would break down and cry every few moments.  I kept thinking about Meta and how she was practical, and full of common sense.  I wanted to call her and have her shake some sense into me, but how to reach out to someone I wasn’t very close to and haven’t spoken with in months?

Predictably (I realize now), she reached out to me immediately upon learning my diagnosis and we met one evening. Meta listened and committed to help in any way I needed.  I asked her to come to an upcoming appointment, as it was recommended to have someone take notes.  Meta came with me, and she took pages of notes.

And Meta came to every single doctor appointment afterwards. We listened together, asked questions, took notes and compared after each appointment.

When I met with my oncologist for the first time and received the definitive assessment, Meta and I left overwhelmed.  She hugged me while I sobbed in the middle of a restaurant.

When I had a fever after my first chemo, I called Meta late at night to let her I know was going to the hospital and that I might need a ride home in the morning.  She met me in emergency, sporting a face mask and sat with me until I was admitted at 2 AM.  She visited every day, bringing special food requests (including the “Contraband McDonalds”)

After each appointment, Meta would say “You never have to do this (day) again!” Even when I lost track, Meta reminded me how far I had come and where I was heading.

She knew when I wanted to talk and when I needed to be left alone.  She checked in on me and if it was really cold or if I was feeling under the weather, would offer to pick up any groceries, medications, whatever I needed.  It pained her to see me in any pain or discomfort. 

The role of “caregiver” is draining. I have told many that cancer is sometimes harder on those around the patient. To share consistent empathy and stamina is not something that everyone can do, but my Meta managed it with grace and sophistication.

Cancer is horrible, but I had help seeing past the horror.  I saw a great deal on my “Rock tour” that I pray never to see again, but it blessed me with a beautiful friendship that will last a lifetime

No New Year's Resolutions

As another year comes to an end, people will take time to reflect upon the events of 2014, whether it be in news, politics, entertainment or personal events that have affected their lives.  Various media outlets display their top news stories stories, movies, songs, photographs and/or videos of the year.

Many look forward to 2015 - A fresh new slate!  Preparing resolutions or just hopeful that the coming year will bring positive changes to their career, finances, health, etc.  Whatever category in life that needs a change.

The gyms become busier, health products fly off the shelves, post holiday facials, massages and detoxes are popular as people prepare their bodies for the new year.  I always do a New Years purge: Sorting through cupboards, closets and cabinets; discarding and/or replacing of old, expired, unused or unwanted items.  It has been my way of losing a quick 10 lbs and making room for all the good things that the coming year has to offer.

Every Vixen, who had treatment this past year that I  contacted over the holidays, have all enthusiastically agreed that 2015 will be a much better year.  Of course it will!  Less frequent visits to the hospital, the bulk of our treatments behind us, full heads of hair, eyelashes restored and bodies/immune systems are starting to return to a new "normal." Christ - Some of the vixens even have a new rack!

Aside from the obvious, 2015 will be a better year for us.  We endured a challenging year! 

I can only speak of my personal experience but I believe that I also grew stronger emotionally, psychologically and spiritually.  (The physical part needs a little more time as it seems I have been catching every cold and flu this season.)  I found a level of energy and strength I never knew I had.  It was this strength that pushed me through treatments and kept my chin up.  But it did more. 

Having a positive attitude does more than help one survive cancer treatments.  It spills into everyday life and encourages one to strive to be a better person.  I never classified myself as having "self confidence" issues but I certainly gained a new level of self acceptance and self respect in 2014.  But this "healthy attitude" needs to be continuously nurtured.  I need to be aware when a negative force creeps into my life, whether it be of my own doing or an external force.  Negativity can grow like a mould.  The area needs to be disinfected.

I strive to become a solution seeker.  If there are obstacles in my life, how do I overcome them?  As opposed to sitting idle, expecting life to change itself around me (which it isn't) I try harder to make changes to improve my life.  If I can't change it, how can I accept it?  Am I risk taker that I envy in others yet?  Hell No!  And it will likely take a very long time, if ever, to reach the level I desire.

Similar to cleaning my closets; over 2014 I discarded many negative factors that affected my well being. Although this "cleansing" doesn't happen in one afternoon and will continue to develop during the rest of one's life, making the effort to abandon unhealthy attitudes, actions (or inaction), routines, foods & people; and replacing with positive/healthy ones, has been gratifying.

I have been and likely will always be the type that keeps myself busy.  Between work, activities in Ottawa and small projects at the farm on weekends, my days are full.    People have commented; "You are always so busy" or "You spend too much time at the farm"  when I am unable to meet them  when they were available. It used to bother me.  I felt guilty.  Then I realized why should I apologize for living life the way I want to live it?  I am doing things that make me happy.  Whether it be a roller blading class or spending a weekend, weeding in my garden.  These are activities I feel enrich my life.  Any guilt has been replaced with the question "Why do others care what I do with my time?" More often than not, the answer is that I have not made myself readily available when someone wants me to be.  Do I criticize or question others about how they spend their time?  No.  If a friend was in a crisis would I be there for them?  Of course!

Sometimes this approach has translated itself into a "fuck it" attitude (which I have been told can also be associated with turning 40.)  The "Fuck it! I am going to speak my mind and don't care what you think."  Those who know me, know I have never had a problem speaking my mind but there have been many moments in the past where I just walked away from an unhealthy situation or toxic person, without letting them know how I felt.  I was shy, intimated or just didn't want to "rock the boat."  Sometimes I wish I would have voiced my opinion but I guess that voice is found with age and experience.  Although I gained many valuable friendships in 2014, I also let go of others.  In a few cases, I was harsh (I need to work on my delivery) and let the other person know how their actions/words affected me.  I felt better afterwards. It was as if I let go of any anger or hurt feelings that I may have towards the situation at hand.  I sleep better at night.
  

I'm not a mean person or a "hater" but some people's values, beliefs and attitudes clash with mine which created a negative energy for me.  I can't continue to grow as a person if negativity and drama drag me down.  There will always be negative people, angry people, perpetual victims, the self centred, bull shitters and the drama queens.  Hell, I have worn each of these hats myself, at some point, over the years. We all have rough days but some can't or won't crawl out of that hole and appear unsatisfied unless everyone is sitting in the same hole with them.   By limiting my interactions with these people or avoiding them completely; I have created more space to include happy, positive, inspiring people in my life.  Although it would be nice, I can't help everyone in life but I know I can help myself and I know I don't want to be stuck in a hole.  Some have walked out of my life, not by my choice but in most cases I have gained a certain serenity from their absence and move forward.  Positive people bring positive energy...solution seekers help you find a solution.

This attitude I feel, has strengthened my relationships with my friends and family.  I made new friends and deepened the bonds of existing relationships.  I try to surround myself with people who have the same outlook as I do.  I feel so grateful for what and who I have in my life. Quality prevails over quantity.

2014 was a crappy year on a few levels and it is a year I wish to never repeat but the valuable lessons learned will last a lifetime.  Obviously some things were beyond my control but I learned to go with the flow and once the bulk of my treatments were behind me, I filled my summer with so many positive experiences that I will always treasure and shared it with people that I love very much.

 Instead of making a list of new years resolutions, I will continue on the personal path I started in 2014.  I cannot put into words what exactly needs to be done in 2015.  As the year progresses, these actions will change.  I want to continue to grow and clean my emotional closet; replacing negative energy for positive.  I believe this "healthy attitude" will enable me to become a better person and share that positive energy with others.  Just like the oxygen masks on the air plane, I need to set myself up before I can help other passengers.

Happy New Years!

Oblivious to My Surroundings

During chemo, I relied on others to take me to and from treatments.  With Herceptin, I can now go alone.  It is still administered in the chemo unit, which is divided into “pods.”  There are approximately 6 pods (or sections) and 6-8 beds and/or chairs per pod.  To keep Herceptin from disrupting my schedule, I book my treatments as late in the day as possible on Fridays.  Sometimes the floor is almost empty.  Usually I listen to music while reading magazines.  Now and then I get a visitor to keep me company. 

I realize that I have been totally oblivious to those around me.

During my last treatment, I looked around in my pod and the neighboring pods and I have to say: Wow! The people around me look sick.  I do not mean to be disrespectful but many patients are lying in bed covered with blankets.  Some are sleeping and others are awake but still.  Some even look frail and/or tired.  Some have a friend sitting quietly next to them, reading a magazine while others are alone.  There is no laughter and not too many smiles.

At my last treatment, there was an older woman in the bed next to me.  She was alone. She was shivering and had blankets wrapped around her shoulders.  She was drinking Ensure (what patients are recommended to drink to keep calorie and nutrient intake up.  Something I never had an issue with.)   When she wanted another blanket, there was no one there to help, unless a nurse passed by.  I got up to get her a blanket.

In the next pod, was a very attractive woman about my age, receiving treatment.  She looked drained and laid quietly in bed, covered with blankets while her husband sat next to her, reading a magazine. 

I remembered my last chemo treatment.  In the bed next to mine was a man who was fidgeting.  He was nervous about receiving treatment (we overheard his discussion with the nurse) and to make matters worse, it was his birthday.  His ride had dropped him off and left.  He sat alone while I had a party of five (and I mean "party")  My friends would get him more blankets or water.  I offered him some of our snacks.  We tried to incorporate him into our circle as best as we could without being invasive.

I know everyone is different and some people prefer to be alone/quiet.  Please do not think I am judging anyone or assuming the patients around me are unhappy.   But I cannot help but wonder how many of these people are scared?  Are sick or tired?  Are alone?  Are unhappy?

I told Meta about my observations and she asked “You mean you never noticed before?” 

With the exception of that one man during my last chemo; actually no I haven’t.  Does that make me a selfish person?  Have I been so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t take notice of others around me?  Probably the answer is “yes” but that’s ok.  There is a certain level of selfishness that is acquired when you get sick in order to heal.   Had I noticed the people around me, it may have dampened my spirits and attitude makes a big difference with recovery.  Maybe I subconsciously put my blinders on to focus on my own recovery and not let dismal faces affect me

I adopted the “Let’s make the best out of a shitty situation” attitude and turned chemo into a lively social visit.   There was a cooler bag filled with food for each treatment.  I needed a bed but only because I wanted the extra space to lay out all my crap. I always had at least two people per treatment -  Five at the last one.  Photos were snapped, gossip was shared and always – lots of laughter. 

And as I told Meta “If any of you bitches would have ignored me, or left me alone; I would have beat the living tar out of you!”

I was and still am the loudest person there.  My laugh isn't one that can be ignored.

What I did isn’t right or wrong.  It doesn’t make me a better or stronger person for handling treatments the way I do.  As I have said and been told countless times, everyone is different.  I did what I had to do in order to get through it.  I rely on humour to get me through difficult times.

Then I began to wonder if I pissed patients around me.  Meta assured me, from what she observed, that I didn’t disrupt but often brought a smile to people’s faces when I cracked jokes and my positive energy was infectious.

Really? 

So what have l learned?  I thought I was aware of my surroundings but obviously not.  I need to be more cognizant of the people around me, during treatment.  Maybe someone wants to talk, maybe someone needs a blanket or a drink of water, maybe I can give them my magazine – Or maybe they want to be left alone.  I don’t know the answers but I am on the homestretch and have remained unscathed.  All I can do is be more mindful of others and see if I can help them in some small yet potentially significant way; in their tour.

 From a recent photo shoot with Laura....My hair returned thicker and fuller than ever!  Although I hate calling my cancer treatments a journey, I like the imagery of the road, heading towards home as the setting.  I really am on the homestretch!

God Keep Our Land Glorious and Free

I'm going to take a quick break from writing about cancer and focus on something far greater that impacted our lives yesterday.

On Wednesday, October 22nd 2014, a coward with a rifle walked up and shot and killed Nathan Cirillo, one of our soldiers as he stood on guard at the War Memorial....a symbol of the sacrifices our Canadian military has made for our country.  The Coward then raced into the halls of the Peace Tower where he was killed by Sergeant at Arms Kevin Vickers.

Think about that.  A lot of fucking symbolism if you ask me.

As I walked home last night, I realized my route has now become a crime scene.  My direct route was still under lock down and the market was virtually deserted.  I recently wrote in an earlier entry that when I now walk to work I relate to Scrooge from Dicken's A Christmas Carol in that I  "walk about the streets, ....and  found that everything could yield him pleasure.  He had never dreamed of any walk...could give him so much happiness."  It didn't feel that way to me last night and perhaps, in the coming days or weeks, I may struggle to keep that light hearted feeling on my commute home.

A slice of our innocence was lost yesterday.

But we are Canadians and a bunch of tough Motherfuckers.  We will not let the acts of yesterday frighten us.

But if there is one thing I can take away from the past year of my life is the ability and desire to find lessons to be learned in life.  The irrational events of yesterday are no different.

I posted on Facebook this morning and wanted to share it here:

In the midst of a heinous attack in our hometown, it is heart warming to see the outpouring of love, solidarity and pride on social media towards one another, our country and our city….
How can we encourage to continue the sentiment we feel today and not have it become a flash in the pan?

1. Pay your respects not only on this Remembrance Day but every year (and no that doesn’t include taking a “selfie” at the War Memorial)

2. It doesn’t need to be Remembrance Day to remember and respect our veterans and present day military. They have fought hard for Canada and to keep the rights and freedoms we sometimes take for granted

3. Vote and vote wisely. We have the right to vote for our leaders that so many countries do not. Research your municipal, provincial and federal candidates and make a wise and informed decision. Don’t waste democracy

4. Take a moment to refresh your knowledge on Canadian history and what we have accomplished to become the nation that we are. Teach your children because our educational system seems to have forgotten about it

5. Show your pride this Canada Day and every other day. We are the true north strong and free

O Canada!

Our home and native land!

True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,

The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

Tribute to a Vixen

Unexpected bad news always seems to come at the strangest times….Well, is there ever a good time for bad news?

Last night, the eve before Okotberfest (my favorite holiday after Christmas) as I was getting ready for bed, I received an email from one of the Vixens.   T, another vixen I had mentioned in a May post had passed away.  It felt like someone dropped a brick on my chest. 

I only met her once.  It was on the day of my last chemo as I was leaving the hospital.  She was finishing radiation and my first impression was that she had a vibrant personality.  I also had a small streak of envy because she was closer to being finished treatment than I and would be moving on with her life, with what we expected, cancer being behind her.

She was close to my friend P and I heard so many good things about her through P.  The two girls were excellent support for one another.  It warmed my heart to hear about them going wig shopping or fitness classes together.  I have been extremely public about everything and continuously grateful of the support I am showered with.  So when someone is a little more private about her tour, like P; I worry.  It’s what I do best…unnecessarily worry (although I am working on it)  Knowing she had someone to confide in, made me feel better.

There was a selfish component again upon hearing the news and as I explained to someone this morning – There is an initial shock and sadness directed towards T and the family she leaves behind.  Then there is an incredible sadness for my friend P.  I cannot imagine how I would take the news of losing one of my kindred spirits that I have become close friends with during the tour.  Then those bastard “what ifs” kick in again....  What if it was one of my close friends?  What if I am next on the list?

In May when I learned that her cancer had returned, it affected me for days.  Although my heart still feels pretty heavy this morning, I am not going to let it be about me.  Everyone is different and cancer affects all of us differently.  I didn't know her but she obviously has made an impact on my life that I want to share.

This post is NOT going to be about me but a tribute to a fellow vixen....Right Now

T was a wife, a mother, a daughter, a relative, a friend, a colleague, a neighbor and a vixen!  She made an impact on people’s lives and provided support to fellow vixens.  The news of her leaving this world comes at the start of Breast Cancer Awareness month.  And cancer, no matter what kind it is, is a fucking bitch.  They day she learned that she had cancer, was the day she became a fighter....a soldier....a vixen.

Her passing is a reminder not only for women to have regular screening of their breasts or for anyone to have their health checked regularly; it is a reminder to live life to its fullest.  She was taken away from her loved ones too soon.  I hope they find some solace in believing that her spirit is now everywhere, around them. She will always be there when her children go to sleep at night, she will always be there looking over the shoulders of her friends.  Her arms will always be around the people she loved.

T is a reminder to take nothing for granted. 

Tell your family and friends that you love them

Don’t waste time on negativity, drama or bullshit

Focus on the positive

Find a purpose in everything

See the cup as half full

Look at the world with the same awe and wonder as a child

T is a reminder that every day is a gift

Node to Joy

Oh, the joys of losing 21 Lymph Nodes!

As I mentioned, between both surgeries a total of 21 lymph nodes were removed from my right arm.  Initially it was 5.  However, two tested positive for cancer and since a HER2 + cancer is considered aggressive, it was recommended to remove a larger cross section.  Thankfully the remaining lymph nodes were positive free.  In theory that means, they got it all.

The risks associated with this type of surgery can be loss of mobility in the arm and Lymphedema.

Lymphedema is a swelling that occurs when fluids build up in the arm.  They cannot drain properly because there are fewer or no lymph nodes to process the fluid and keep it moving.

Again, I am extremely lucky because any side effects i have are minimal.  But I honestly expected to have returned to my old self by this time….I haven’t yet and it frustrates the hell out of me

I have a pretty good range of motion in my arm.  However, there are points when I feel a pull in my arm, now and then I get a tingling sensation and sometimes my jewelry feels tight on the right side.  Both arms look the same, yet there is a slight swelling in the upper arm and collar bone.  Now and then it looks like I have a little back boob on the right side.  Whaddya gonna do?

I was fitted for a compression sleeve which helps push fluid through the arm but I hate to wear it.  If you ask me, its an over glorified pair of tights that costs an average on 114$ and apparently the custom ones are in a crazy price range (but they have a range of colors including animal print.  Hello??? A zebra print sleeve to match my zebra print jeans)  The nurse demonstrated how to pull it on and adjust it.  I followed her instructions closely, using a rubber glove when putting it on to avoid catching to jewelry or rough cuticles.  Which likely looked very strange to CATSA when they scanned my carry on at the airport to find one lonely yellow rubber glove.

Where I struggle the most is during my workouts.  I used to work out at least 3-4 times per week, and for example lift anywhere between 12-15 pounds doing triceps extensions.  Now I use half the amount of weight and my arm still feels numb afterwards.

Last week I attended an information session on Lymphedema – I learned how to give myself lymphatic massages, about the different sleeves and other aids to use on your arm and how to take care of my arm; moving forward. 

Not being the type to “google” stuff, I was the eager student constantly raising my hand with questions.  At one point I commented that I felt foolish being the only one with questions. 

“that’s alright” said the physiotherapist, “You are asking questions that people already have in their mind”

“Can I play paintball?”  I bet no one in the audience was thinking about that one.

“Only if you can promise that you will get hit from the waist down.  Why don’t you make an appointment to see me after this class” 

That’s code for “You obviously are stupid or stubborn or both and I want to see you because you are voted most likely to injure yourself.”

Happy Anniversary

Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of being diagnosed with cancer. For as long as I live, I will not forget the exact moment I heard the news....

On August 19, 2013 my doctor looked at me sympathetically and said:

 "The lump is indicative of cancer."

I can still hear her tone of voice.  Those words lingered in the air.

The previous Friday I had what I suspected would be a normal mammogram.  A lump was detected earlier in the summer and having been through this before, expected it to be no big deal.  I pushed off making a doctor's appointment and tests.  During the ultra sound, the radiologist came in and began to do a second set of images.  When he finished and as I was lying there topless, covered in boob jelly, he told me that I needed more images, an MRI and was referring me to a surgeon.

"Woah!  Woah woah"  I said "I have been through these tests before and no one has even said that. You are scaring me."

"This lump is abnormal and we need to move quickly." He replied.

Then I was stuck back in the waiting room surrounded by people, with what seemed like an eternity to have another mammogram.  I struggled to keep it together and the minute I got back into my car, bawled my eyes out.  Over the weekend, I was stressed but thought it was an error.  Everything was going to be fine...  They were just being cautious...  It was a benign tumour or something like that...  Everyone was creating a panic for nothing...

Then on the Monday I returned a call from my family Dr and was asked to come into her office.

Laura wouldn't let me go alone.

The second my Doctor told me the news, I broke down, sobbing; and as she hugged me, apologized profusely.

I tried to gain some sense of composure, threw on my over sized sunglasses (Thank God!) and walked back out to the waiting room.  Of course Laura was anxious to know what the results were but I pulled her out of the building before I told her.  And sobbed uncontrollably in the parking lot.

In retrospect I have no clue why my Doctor apologized - (although afterwards she reminded that when I first told her about the lump she had joked "Watch it be cancer")  Both she and my surgeon had both said that to touch the lump, you would not expect it to be cancerous.  It was very mobile which apparently is unusual for a cancerous growth.  But wanting to be safe than sorry she sent me for a mammogram.  A few years earlier I had found a small lump and wanted it checked.  My family doctor at the time didn't think it was anything serious but the lump changed size and I returned alarmed.  He still did not request a mammogram but I went to a walk in clinic and asked to be referred for a mammogram.  In the end it turned out to be nothing but I felt that he wasn't taking care of my needs and switched to me present day family doctor.   If I was still under his care last year, things may have turned out much differently for me and perhaps for the worst.  To the touch it didn't seem like a big deal but the image of the lump in the ultra sound was in the shape of star.  When a tumour has little legs coming out of it, it pretty much is a text book case of cancer.  I have my ultra sound images.  I know exactly what they are talking about.

I couldn't be alone for the following two weeks.  I tried my best to work during the day and then took turns spending evenings with my friends.   Lying in bed alone at nights; my mind constantly drifted to the worst case scenario and they were not healthy thoughts.

The day I met with the surgeon, she confirmed that the ultra sound results were pretty cut and dried.  It was likely cancerous but the jury was still out on the lymph nodes.  Initially she suspected surgery and radiation.

My surgeon looked me straight in the eye and said "Now if you listen to me and do exactly what I tell you, everything will be fine."

I walked away feeling the most confident than I had in weeks.  I started to become more calm and realized that I wasn't the first person to be diagnosed with cancer and I wouldn't be the last.  I wasn't going to let it get me.

Then the battery of tests began...MRI, more ultra sounds, biopsies, meet with the surgeon, blood tests, etc etc - all of these tests are standard procedure and with each test brought about the same result:  Cancer.  Eventually I said "Enough already.  We already know I have cancer.  Just take it out!"  Finally, the day after my birthday, my doctor called  to confirm the final test result: Cancer.

Over the past year, I have reflected on those few days, post diagnosis.  I have never in my entire life felt that vulnerable, scared and helpless and in the end, it was all for nothing.  I survived the past year and expect to stick around much longer.  The year has flown by and as I mentioned in my last entry, it was one of the most incredible learning experiences ever.

Fuck you cancer!  

You thought you would win but you will never win.  You showed me how strong I really was.   You were a catalyst that showered me with love and support from all of my family and friends.  You opened my eyes to all the wonderful things that I should be thankful for.  You introduced me to the most amazing set of vixens. You inspired me to want to achieve greater things in life.

You may have invaded my body and you may invade it again but you will never break my spirit!