Sunday, February 15, 2015
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Email me!
Hi everyone!
I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner... I've created an email address for this blog, so that you can write to me in private if you want to. Sometimes people want to talk about cancer-related stuff without doing so in a public blog, and without having to give their email address in a public blog, either!
SO, you can email me at BrittaBBlog@yahoo.com at any time.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
An Afternoon in Cancer-land
I had my 6-month oncology check-up a week ago, but I've been putting off writing about it. I don't know why. But now I'm stuck at home on a snow day...A is sick and still in bed. I had to cancel my trapeze lesson due to pain/spasms in my lower back, but I can't even get to my chiropractor's office because that would mean shoveling the driveway, which my back can't handle. So here I am stuck at home, and I might as well write, right?
Last Thursday was my 6-month check-up, and it was with a new oncologist, since my previous one is no longer practicing in the cancer center I go to. It was also the 2-year anniversary of my lumpectomy. It would have been an emotional, stressful day for me just because of all of that, but in addition, someone I love (who I won't name, out of respect for their privacy) had an appointment elsewhere in the building at the same exact time, because they had 5 out of 7 symptoms of a scary kind of cancer. So my fear for my loved one's well-being pretty much eclipsed my fear for myself, and I was so distracted because of it. We made plans to meet in the main lobby when we were both done with our appointments.
My new oncologist, Dr. J, spent 45 minutes with me because it was our first visit - I was used to these appointments being only 15 or 20 minutes. We didn't hit it off too well, I'm sorry to say. Then again, I totally got off on the wrong foot with my first oncologist, too, and then our connection improved greatly...so perhaps I just need to be patient and give it a chance with Dr. J. What stressed me out was that Dr. J wanted me to have what felt like a gazillion tests and procedures, not because she was really worried about my health, was the impression I got, but simply because that's how she does it with all of her patients. I've been feeling really great for months, trying my best to eat well, sleep well, exercising (there's always room for improvement, but I've been walking fairly regularly), de-stressing, taking all of my anti-cancer supplements along with the Tamoxifen, and continuing to educate myself on/engage in activism against environmental toxins. I haven't been worried about the possibility of a recurrence. I felt like I was happily living far away from cancer-land. But these stupid cancer check-ups are a reminder that I will never get away from cancer-land... I will need regular check-ups of some kind for the rest of my life. Dr. J wanted me to schedule a bone density scan, a pelvic ultrasound (to assess the cause of my irregular/heavy menstrual bleeding - which I'm sure is a Tamoxifen side effect, not a third cancer, geez), and have more blood work, a flu shot, a mammogram, and consider genetic testing. I only agreed to half of that, declining the last 3 items. Dr. J is super bothered by my refusal of mammograms, telling me that mammograms really aren't optional. But it's my body, and I'm not willing to have that much radiation.*
The appointment dragged on and on, and ended with her telling me she wants to see me again in four months, because she's still getting to know me. I was dismayed, for I had been expecting to not need a check up with her for at least 6 months, maybe a year...considering I'm now over 2 years past diagnosis. Having my oncology appointments instead increase in frequency - along with the increase in tests and procedures - makes me feel cranky, too immersed in cancer-land once again.
Once I got my clothes back on, scheduled all of the stupid tests and procedures, and had my 3 vials of blood drawn, I practically ran to the main lobby to find my loved one. They were there, waiting to go into the lab for blood work and an X-ray. Within minutes, they were whisked into the lab, and I had to sit there for a full hour, so scared, waiting to hear whether or not it was cancer. Then, they came running out, gleefully telling me it was a virus, not cancer. Relief washed over me. Never before have I been so thrilled by someone being sick with a virus!
There are so many things I hate about cancer; I hate having the fear of it lurking about. My logical brain knew that it was very, very unlikely that that person I love had cancer... but that's what I had thought about myself, too, and twice now I've had the experience of being told, "Oh, it's probably nothing," and then finding out, BOOM, it's CANCER. That has skewed everything for me and it's a constant challenge to maintain perspective and logic and not let the fear win. Even young, healthy, fit people get cancer. Even cancer survivors who have been given an excellent prognosis and have a low risk of recurrence and feel certain that cancer is a thing of the past can end up dying from the cancer a year later (see my previous post). We really just never know and there are no certainties when it comes to cancer...or anything in life, really. Do I sound like a broken record when I say that all we can do is take life one day at a time? Sometimes it's one hour at a time, one minute at a time, one breath at a time. Inhale, exhale, repeat.
*By refusing annual mammograms, I'm not making a fear-based, uneducated decision. I have thought long and hard about it, and have read a lot about mammography and other breast cancer detection methods, and have talked with many people about it, including medical professionals. And I'm choosing annual breast MRIs. My surgeon, who is also the director of the Breast Care Program at a National Cancer Institute Designated Cancer Center, has approved that choice. She told me, "You know that if I felt strongly about your need for annual mammograms, I would beg you to do it, like I did with radiation therapy." And that right there is good enough for me! If something shows up on the MRI, of course I will get the recommended follow-up ultrasound, mammogram, biopsy, etc. And I'll continue having at least 3 Clinical Breast Exams (CBE) per year, from my oncologist, surgeon, and gynecologist, and possibly thermograms on occasion. I will consider having an occasional mammogram. I will consider having mammograms on a more regular basis when I'm older and my breast density has decreased. I have very dense breasts, like most young women, and I have a report from the radiologist who interpreted my mammogram a couple years ago that clearly says that my very dense breast tissue decreases the sensitivity of mammography. On mammograms/X-rays, dense breast tissue shows up as white, as does cancer, so it's like...what's that expression...trying to find a polar bear in a snowstorm. I see no point in annually exposing my breasts TO A CARCINOGEN (radiation) for the next SIXTY FIVE YEARS (ish), when A) it's really hard to detect cancer via mammogram, given my breast density; and B) the more mammograms I have, the more my risk of cancer increases. I've already had a shitload of radiation to my breasts (the radiation therapy, I mean). And we're all exposed to so many carcinogens on a daily basis, most of which we're not even aware of, and cannot avoid. Thus, if there are carcinogens I can avoid, I will avoid them.
Last Thursday was my 6-month check-up, and it was with a new oncologist, since my previous one is no longer practicing in the cancer center I go to. It was also the 2-year anniversary of my lumpectomy. It would have been an emotional, stressful day for me just because of all of that, but in addition, someone I love (who I won't name, out of respect for their privacy) had an appointment elsewhere in the building at the same exact time, because they had 5 out of 7 symptoms of a scary kind of cancer. So my fear for my loved one's well-being pretty much eclipsed my fear for myself, and I was so distracted because of it. We made plans to meet in the main lobby when we were both done with our appointments.
My new oncologist, Dr. J, spent 45 minutes with me because it was our first visit - I was used to these appointments being only 15 or 20 minutes. We didn't hit it off too well, I'm sorry to say. Then again, I totally got off on the wrong foot with my first oncologist, too, and then our connection improved greatly...so perhaps I just need to be patient and give it a chance with Dr. J. What stressed me out was that Dr. J wanted me to have what felt like a gazillion tests and procedures, not because she was really worried about my health, was the impression I got, but simply because that's how she does it with all of her patients. I've been feeling really great for months, trying my best to eat well, sleep well, exercising (there's always room for improvement, but I've been walking fairly regularly), de-stressing, taking all of my anti-cancer supplements along with the Tamoxifen, and continuing to educate myself on/engage in activism against environmental toxins. I haven't been worried about the possibility of a recurrence. I felt like I was happily living far away from cancer-land. But these stupid cancer check-ups are a reminder that I will never get away from cancer-land... I will need regular check-ups of some kind for the rest of my life. Dr. J wanted me to schedule a bone density scan, a pelvic ultrasound (to assess the cause of my irregular/heavy menstrual bleeding - which I'm sure is a Tamoxifen side effect, not a third cancer, geez), and have more blood work, a flu shot, a mammogram, and consider genetic testing. I only agreed to half of that, declining the last 3 items. Dr. J is super bothered by my refusal of mammograms, telling me that mammograms really aren't optional. But it's my body, and I'm not willing to have that much radiation.*
The appointment dragged on and on, and ended with her telling me she wants to see me again in four months, because she's still getting to know me. I was dismayed, for I had been expecting to not need a check up with her for at least 6 months, maybe a year...considering I'm now over 2 years past diagnosis. Having my oncology appointments instead increase in frequency - along with the increase in tests and procedures - makes me feel cranky, too immersed in cancer-land once again.
Once I got my clothes back on, scheduled all of the stupid tests and procedures, and had my 3 vials of blood drawn, I practically ran to the main lobby to find my loved one. They were there, waiting to go into the lab for blood work and an X-ray. Within minutes, they were whisked into the lab, and I had to sit there for a full hour, so scared, waiting to hear whether or not it was cancer. Then, they came running out, gleefully telling me it was a virus, not cancer. Relief washed over me. Never before have I been so thrilled by someone being sick with a virus!
There are so many things I hate about cancer; I hate having the fear of it lurking about. My logical brain knew that it was very, very unlikely that that person I love had cancer... but that's what I had thought about myself, too, and twice now I've had the experience of being told, "Oh, it's probably nothing," and then finding out, BOOM, it's CANCER. That has skewed everything for me and it's a constant challenge to maintain perspective and logic and not let the fear win. Even young, healthy, fit people get cancer. Even cancer survivors who have been given an excellent prognosis and have a low risk of recurrence and feel certain that cancer is a thing of the past can end up dying from the cancer a year later (see my previous post). We really just never know and there are no certainties when it comes to cancer...or anything in life, really. Do I sound like a broken record when I say that all we can do is take life one day at a time? Sometimes it's one hour at a time, one minute at a time, one breath at a time. Inhale, exhale, repeat.
*By refusing annual mammograms, I'm not making a fear-based, uneducated decision. I have thought long and hard about it, and have read a lot about mammography and other breast cancer detection methods, and have talked with many people about it, including medical professionals. And I'm choosing annual breast MRIs. My surgeon, who is also the director of the Breast Care Program at a National Cancer Institute Designated Cancer Center, has approved that choice. She told me, "You know that if I felt strongly about your need for annual mammograms, I would beg you to do it, like I did with radiation therapy." And that right there is good enough for me! If something shows up on the MRI, of course I will get the recommended follow-up ultrasound, mammogram, biopsy, etc. And I'll continue having at least 3 Clinical Breast Exams (CBE) per year, from my oncologist, surgeon, and gynecologist, and possibly thermograms on occasion. I will consider having an occasional mammogram. I will consider having mammograms on a more regular basis when I'm older and my breast density has decreased. I have very dense breasts, like most young women, and I have a report from the radiologist who interpreted my mammogram a couple years ago that clearly says that my very dense breast tissue decreases the sensitivity of mammography. On mammograms/X-rays, dense breast tissue shows up as white, as does cancer, so it's like...what's that expression...trying to find a polar bear in a snowstorm. I see no point in annually exposing my breasts TO A CARCINOGEN (radiation) for the next SIXTY FIVE YEARS (ish), when A) it's really hard to detect cancer via mammogram, given my breast density; and B) the more mammograms I have, the more my risk of cancer increases. I've already had a shitload of radiation to my breasts (the radiation therapy, I mean). And we're all exposed to so many carcinogens on a daily basis, most of which we're not even aware of, and cannot avoid. Thus, if there are carcinogens I can avoid, I will avoid them.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Diana & Lily
In June 2009, I accepted a summer babysitting gig, for a sweet baby, just a few hours a week. The family lived in New York but had a summer home here in New England, close to where I lived. I had a really good feeling about the baby's mom, Diana, when I met her...and baby Lily was an absolute doll. I wore her on my chest in a baby carrier, and we strolled in the summer warmth and light, over the covered bridge, and on the rail trail walking path. The greenery was so lush around us. And when the sun went down, I lay the big white cloth out on the bed, swaddled sweet Lily in it the way Diana told me she liked, and rocked her in my arms.
After just a couple weeks of babysitting for Lily, I showed up one afternoon as scheduled, and knocked, and no one came to the door. I knocked and knocked, and tried calling Diana's cell phone, but she wasn't there. I waited 20 minutes, and then I went home to check my email and see if there was any message from her. And yes, she had emailed to tell me that the "flu" she'd had for a few days was more likely pneumonia, and she was in the hospital. Two days later, another email... she told me she had leukemia, and was returning home to NY for chemo. She closed with "I so enjoyed meeting you; your sunniness will stay with me as I start this journey," and I was so shocked and sad, because she had seemed so healthy and vibrant to me. I was angry that cancer was stealing her and Lily away just as we had been getting to know each other. Diana and her husband's wedding anniversary was in a little over a week and I was supposed to babysit that night so they could go out and celebrate. Instead, she was spending that time in the hospital.
Three months later, Diana emailed me again to update me, saying how she was feeling so much better now, and that despite needing a bone marrow transplant soon, she was "completely certain that [she]'ll
get on the other side of this, get a huge tattoo that says 'Survivor,' and get on with life." I wrote back with well wishes for continued healing... and a month later, had my breast lump biopsied, and was shocked to be given a cancer diagnosis of my own.
Six months passed. I frequently wondered how Diana was doing, but we hadn't emailed...and then one day, the week I started radiation, I got the strangest voice mail from her - it was just 3 minutes of her having a conversation with someone, probably her husband. It sounded to me like she had sat on her phone and called me accidentally. I could hear Lily making happy baby noises, and banging some toys together, and I smiled. I emailed Diana to tell her I'd received that probably-accidental voice mail, and asked how she was doing, and told her about my cancer. Isn't it so strange, I mused, that she and I both had cancer when we met each other and had no idea. And we were both in our 30s and so healthy!
Diana wrote back and was just as shocked and sad about my cancer as I had been about hers, but was glad to hear that I was recovering well and had such a good prognosis. "I think my prognosis is excellent too...," she said. "...at this point it's all recovery." In that email, she shared with me her thoughts about cancer, and ended with:
"I had a vision, last time I visited the doctor (at an entire hospital for cancer patients), that cancer is a certain kind of demanding spiritual path, and everyone who has it has been chosen for it. It's easy for me to see it that way now that I'm done with treatment and recovering. But it's an interesting vision.
much love
Diana"
That was a year and 8 months ago, and it was the last time I heard from her. This past week, I was thinking about her, and made a mental note to email her soon and see how she's doing now...hoping we could share stories of how well we're recovering. This morning, I woke up to an mass email from her husband, a "reminder" (although I never received the first notice) about Diana's upcoming memorial service. She died last month. I didn't know. I had been picturing her happy and healthy and enjoying time with the now-toddler Lily. Hearing of her death was such a blow....she was a vibrant and kind-hearted woman.
Diana and I signed our emails to each other with variations of "much love," even though we'd only had about 3 weeks together, because there is a kinship between those of us who have been face to face with the cancer monster. We both had undetected cancer when we met each other. We both were treated at the same hospital. We both had excellent prognoses... so why am I so healthy, and why is she DEAD? I hate cancer. Cancer is an ugly serial killer that does not discriminate... it takes down parents of little children, and little children themselves; people of all ages, all races, all professions, all parts of the world. When I was 19, cancer took away my friend Cory, a single mother in her 30s, leaving behind her 7-year-old son with autism. Cancer stole Cory when "Chicken Soup for the Survivor's Soul" was literally open on the nightstand next to her hospital bed, just like it stole Diana, a young woman with a baby daughter, who was ready to "get her 'Survivor' tattoo and move on." Cancer doesn't give a damn, it takes who it wants to, and having an excellent prognosis, and "complete certainty" that you'll fully recover, is no protection. It makes me wish that cancer was a corporeal being so I could bash its kneecaps in with a hammer.
May you rest in peace, Diana. I wish we had had more time together.
Here is an article about Diana, titled, "Diana Colbert, Wife of Author Charles Bock, Dies." I met her husband when I began babysitting for Lily, but didn't see/talk with him much, so I don't know him well. I wish him and Lily well and my deepest sympathies are with them.
After just a couple weeks of babysitting for Lily, I showed up one afternoon as scheduled, and knocked, and no one came to the door. I knocked and knocked, and tried calling Diana's cell phone, but she wasn't there. I waited 20 minutes, and then I went home to check my email and see if there was any message from her. And yes, she had emailed to tell me that the "flu" she'd had for a few days was more likely pneumonia, and she was in the hospital. Two days later, another email... she told me she had leukemia, and was returning home to NY for chemo. She closed with "I so enjoyed meeting you; your sunniness will stay with me as I start this journey," and I was so shocked and sad, because she had seemed so healthy and vibrant to me. I was angry that cancer was stealing her and Lily away just as we had been getting to know each other. Diana and her husband's wedding anniversary was in a little over a week and I was supposed to babysit that night so they could go out and celebrate. Instead, she was spending that time in the hospital.
Three months later, Diana emailed me again to update me, saying how she was feeling so much better now, and that despite needing a bone marrow transplant soon, she was "completely certain that [she]'ll
get on the other side of this, get a huge tattoo that says 'Survivor,' and get on with life." I wrote back with well wishes for continued healing... and a month later, had my breast lump biopsied, and was shocked to be given a cancer diagnosis of my own.
Six months passed. I frequently wondered how Diana was doing, but we hadn't emailed...and then one day, the week I started radiation, I got the strangest voice mail from her - it was just 3 minutes of her having a conversation with someone, probably her husband. It sounded to me like she had sat on her phone and called me accidentally. I could hear Lily making happy baby noises, and banging some toys together, and I smiled. I emailed Diana to tell her I'd received that probably-accidental voice mail, and asked how she was doing, and told her about my cancer. Isn't it so strange, I mused, that she and I both had cancer when we met each other and had no idea. And we were both in our 30s and so healthy!
Diana wrote back and was just as shocked and sad about my cancer as I had been about hers, but was glad to hear that I was recovering well and had such a good prognosis. "I think my prognosis is excellent too...," she said. "...at this point it's all recovery." In that email, she shared with me her thoughts about cancer, and ended with:
"I had a vision, last time I visited the doctor (at an entire hospital for cancer patients), that cancer is a certain kind of demanding spiritual path, and everyone who has it has been chosen for it. It's easy for me to see it that way now that I'm done with treatment and recovering. But it's an interesting vision.
much love
Diana"
That was a year and 8 months ago, and it was the last time I heard from her. This past week, I was thinking about her, and made a mental note to email her soon and see how she's doing now...hoping we could share stories of how well we're recovering. This morning, I woke up to an mass email from her husband, a "reminder" (although I never received the first notice) about Diana's upcoming memorial service. She died last month. I didn't know. I had been picturing her happy and healthy and enjoying time with the now-toddler Lily. Hearing of her death was such a blow....she was a vibrant and kind-hearted woman.
Diana and I signed our emails to each other with variations of "much love," even though we'd only had about 3 weeks together, because there is a kinship between those of us who have been face to face with the cancer monster. We both had undetected cancer when we met each other. We both were treated at the same hospital. We both had excellent prognoses... so why am I so healthy, and why is she DEAD? I hate cancer. Cancer is an ugly serial killer that does not discriminate... it takes down parents of little children, and little children themselves; people of all ages, all races, all professions, all parts of the world. When I was 19, cancer took away my friend Cory, a single mother in her 30s, leaving behind her 7-year-old son with autism. Cancer stole Cory when "Chicken Soup for the Survivor's Soul" was literally open on the nightstand next to her hospital bed, just like it stole Diana, a young woman with a baby daughter, who was ready to "get her 'Survivor' tattoo and move on." Cancer doesn't give a damn, it takes who it wants to, and having an excellent prognosis, and "complete certainty" that you'll fully recover, is no protection. It makes me wish that cancer was a corporeal being so I could bash its kneecaps in with a hammer.
May you rest in peace, Diana. I wish we had had more time together.
Here is an article about Diana, titled, "Diana Colbert, Wife of Author Charles Bock, Dies." I met her husband when I began babysitting for Lily, but didn't see/talk with him much, so I don't know him well. I wish him and Lily well and my deepest sympathies are with them.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Happy New Year!
Several of my family members write New Year's Goals (note: not resolutions), and one of my family members even writes extensive lists of New Year's Goals in over a dozen categories - which works really well for him and is really important to him. I used to write New Year's Goals as well, due mostly to family pressure to do so, but I stopped years ago. For a few years I felt guilty for not doing it, assuming that some personal flaw made me averse to goal-setting. Now I'm secure with who I am and what my life is about - I'm process-oriented, not goal-oriented!
Instead of setting goals that can be checked off a list when accomplished, I set life-long intentions for how I want to live:
Always put love first.
Keep growing and learning.
Maintain an awareness of my place in the interdependent web of life.
Be honest and real.
Support and strengthen my health.
Support and strengthen the health of the Earth.
Try my best.
Increase sisterhood and women's freedom in whatever ways I can.
Do what I can to make the world a better place for children.
Say "Thank you" and "I love you" on a regular basis and never take my blessings for granted.
These are my life-long intentions that I try to live by. Of course, I don't always succeed in that...not only do I of course make mistakes and poor decisions like all humans do, but I know those intentions are rather lofty. It would be impossible to follow them to a T at every moment. :) But I try! These intentions are not just for 2012, nor are they ever things I can check off as "done." They can be approached in many ways. My problem with goal-setting is that it feels too concrete, and doesn't leave room for the ways in which life is constantly changing - often in ways outside of our personal control. If you set a goal to do X, and then decide that doing X is not right for you, are you a "failure" because you didn't "accomplish the goal"? I spent 15 years working non-stop/often full time with young children, and then I burnt out, and quit childcare as my 30th birthday present to myself. Had I set a goal of "Be a teacher" or whatever, I would have had to count that a "failure." But really, my life's mission from the time I was a teenager was to "do what I can to make the world a better place for children." There are many, many ways of doing that, which don't necessarily have to involve being the direct caregiver for children on a daily basis. After I quit childcare [or rather, seriously reduced my hours - I must admit that I still spend time with kids because I can't not :)], I wrote a grant application that resulted in scholarship money for disadvantaged kids to take circus classes. Still a way of following my stated intentions!!
In the fall of 2009, I was all prepared to facilitate a Girl's Circle for a group of 10- and 11-year-old girls at a local library. I had gone through the training, purchased the curriculum and made changes to it to suit the group's needs, gathered materials, arranged my work schedule, etc. I had already facilitated an 8-week Circle and it had gone really well, and this was to be a continuation of it. Two girls were already signed up and as excited as I was. Then... you know where this story is going, right?.... I was diagnosed with breast cancer. And my surgery date was set for 2 days before the Girls Circle was scheduled to start. I had to cancel the whole thing. Had I set a goal of "Facilitate Girls Circle at the library in Fall 2009/Winter 2010," I would have had to say I failed to meet that goal. But I didn't fail at all. I succeeded by surviving cancer, both physically and mentally, and continuing to live a happy, healthy life. Facilitating a Girls Circle would have been a wonderful expression of my lifelong intention to increase sisterhood and women's freedom, but life through me a giant curveball and I had to find new ways. During the 2 years since then, I haven't facilitated any Girls Circles (maybe I still will?), but I have instead increased sisterhood and women's freedom by loaning money to businesswomen in developing countries (through Kiva), volunteering at a fundraising event for research on breast cancer and the environment, helping plan and implement a local fundraiser for two women in my community who are undergoing cancer treatments, volunteering at an event put on by the local Women's Freedom Center, and engaging in online activism in a variety of ways.
I don't set goals that are destinations I must arrive at, because I have NO IDEA what's coming up ahead in my path. Thus, I set intentions for how to travel the path. These are intentions I can try to live by no matter what happens in my life. When I was in college, I set a bunch of now-seemingly-arbitrary goals, like learn to play the fiddle by the time I'm 35, live in a house by the ocean, become a mother, go to Paris again. MAYBE I WILL, MAYBE I WON'T, but I'm taking life one day at a time and defining success so differently now. My life's intentions are ones that can be practiced whether one is a hardworking, married CEO and bestselling author and mother of 5, or a solitary person confined to a hospital bed...because it's not about what you accomplish, it's about who you are.
When I was in the midst of breast cancer treatments, I had bouts of depression because I felt so disconnected from the rest of the world/my "normal life" and unable to "do" anything. Had my goals been as specific as "facilitate a 12-week Girls Circle by Spring of 2010," yeah, I would have "failed." But even during cancer treatments, I could try to follow my life's intentions... I was filled to the brim with love and gratitude for all of my amazingly loving and supportive friends and family, and I was certainly growing and learning (haha, whether I wanted to or not! My mom refers to that 6-month period as my "cancer semester"), and while I was frustrated to not be able to do more/do what I wanted to do in the realm of helping women, I could at the very least write supportive messages to other breast cancer patients on the message boards, blog about my experiences in hopes that my words would be helpful to others, and sign up for a clinical trial that would result in data that would improve breast cancer treatments for future women. And, I comforted myself by trying to remember that while part of me felt useless/isolated/self-centered by not being able to do anything other than be a cancer patient, reality was that I NEEDED to focus on my own personal healing in order to be at all helpful to other women in the future! You know, that whole "put on your own oxygen mask first" thing.
So, if any of you reading this failed to accomplish last year's resolutions or goals, or are feeling apprehensive about the ones you've set this year, or guilty for not setting any at all, I say, don't sweat it! :) Be you. Be the best YOU that you can be, knowing that there are infinite ways of approaching that....including by setting specific goals and objectives if you really want to. If you include "Always keep learning and growing" as one of your goals, then you can't EVER fail, right?? Failing to meet some goal or objective you set is certainly something you learn and grow from, so, you're really always succeeding. :)
What are your New Year's traditions or rituals? Do you set goals or resolutions or intentions of some kind? What works for you? I know that some of my family members really get a lot out of goal-setting, so I hope this post hasn't sounded too anti-goals in general! It's just not MY thing, and that's okay! :)
Happy 2012!!!
Instead of setting goals that can be checked off a list when accomplished, I set life-long intentions for how I want to live:
Always put love first.
Keep growing and learning.
Maintain an awareness of my place in the interdependent web of life.
Be honest and real.
Support and strengthen my health.
Support and strengthen the health of the Earth.
Try my best.
Increase sisterhood and women's freedom in whatever ways I can.
Do what I can to make the world a better place for children.
Say "Thank you" and "I love you" on a regular basis and never take my blessings for granted.
These are my life-long intentions that I try to live by. Of course, I don't always succeed in that...not only do I of course make mistakes and poor decisions like all humans do, but I know those intentions are rather lofty. It would be impossible to follow them to a T at every moment. :) But I try! These intentions are not just for 2012, nor are they ever things I can check off as "done." They can be approached in many ways. My problem with goal-setting is that it feels too concrete, and doesn't leave room for the ways in which life is constantly changing - often in ways outside of our personal control. If you set a goal to do X, and then decide that doing X is not right for you, are you a "failure" because you didn't "accomplish the goal"? I spent 15 years working non-stop/often full time with young children, and then I burnt out, and quit childcare as my 30th birthday present to myself. Had I set a goal of "Be a teacher" or whatever, I would have had to count that a "failure." But really, my life's mission from the time I was a teenager was to "do what I can to make the world a better place for children." There are many, many ways of doing that, which don't necessarily have to involve being the direct caregiver for children on a daily basis. After I quit childcare [or rather, seriously reduced my hours - I must admit that I still spend time with kids because I can't not :)], I wrote a grant application that resulted in scholarship money for disadvantaged kids to take circus classes. Still a way of following my stated intentions!!
In the fall of 2009, I was all prepared to facilitate a Girl's Circle for a group of 10- and 11-year-old girls at a local library. I had gone through the training, purchased the curriculum and made changes to it to suit the group's needs, gathered materials, arranged my work schedule, etc. I had already facilitated an 8-week Circle and it had gone really well, and this was to be a continuation of it. Two girls were already signed up and as excited as I was. Then... you know where this story is going, right?.... I was diagnosed with breast cancer. And my surgery date was set for 2 days before the Girls Circle was scheduled to start. I had to cancel the whole thing. Had I set a goal of "Facilitate Girls Circle at the library in Fall 2009/Winter 2010," I would have had to say I failed to meet that goal. But I didn't fail at all. I succeeded by surviving cancer, both physically and mentally, and continuing to live a happy, healthy life. Facilitating a Girls Circle would have been a wonderful expression of my lifelong intention to increase sisterhood and women's freedom, but life through me a giant curveball and I had to find new ways. During the 2 years since then, I haven't facilitated any Girls Circles (maybe I still will?), but I have instead increased sisterhood and women's freedom by loaning money to businesswomen in developing countries (through Kiva), volunteering at a fundraising event for research on breast cancer and the environment, helping plan and implement a local fundraiser for two women in my community who are undergoing cancer treatments, volunteering at an event put on by the local Women's Freedom Center, and engaging in online activism in a variety of ways.
I don't set goals that are destinations I must arrive at, because I have NO IDEA what's coming up ahead in my path. Thus, I set intentions for how to travel the path. These are intentions I can try to live by no matter what happens in my life. When I was in college, I set a bunch of now-seemingly-arbitrary goals, like learn to play the fiddle by the time I'm 35, live in a house by the ocean, become a mother, go to Paris again. MAYBE I WILL, MAYBE I WON'T, but I'm taking life one day at a time and defining success so differently now. My life's intentions are ones that can be practiced whether one is a hardworking, married CEO and bestselling author and mother of 5, or a solitary person confined to a hospital bed...because it's not about what you accomplish, it's about who you are.
When I was in the midst of breast cancer treatments, I had bouts of depression because I felt so disconnected from the rest of the world/my "normal life" and unable to "do" anything. Had my goals been as specific as "facilitate a 12-week Girls Circle by Spring of 2010," yeah, I would have "failed." But even during cancer treatments, I could try to follow my life's intentions... I was filled to the brim with love and gratitude for all of my amazingly loving and supportive friends and family, and I was certainly growing and learning (haha, whether I wanted to or not! My mom refers to that 6-month period as my "cancer semester"), and while I was frustrated to not be able to do more/do what I wanted to do in the realm of helping women, I could at the very least write supportive messages to other breast cancer patients on the message boards, blog about my experiences in hopes that my words would be helpful to others, and sign up for a clinical trial that would result in data that would improve breast cancer treatments for future women. And, I comforted myself by trying to remember that while part of me felt useless/isolated/self-centered by not being able to do anything other than be a cancer patient, reality was that I NEEDED to focus on my own personal healing in order to be at all helpful to other women in the future! You know, that whole "put on your own oxygen mask first" thing.
So, if any of you reading this failed to accomplish last year's resolutions or goals, or are feeling apprehensive about the ones you've set this year, or guilty for not setting any at all, I say, don't sweat it! :) Be you. Be the best YOU that you can be, knowing that there are infinite ways of approaching that....including by setting specific goals and objectives if you really want to. If you include "Always keep learning and growing" as one of your goals, then you can't EVER fail, right?? Failing to meet some goal or objective you set is certainly something you learn and grow from, so, you're really always succeeding. :)
What are your New Year's traditions or rituals? Do you set goals or resolutions or intentions of some kind? What works for you? I know that some of my family members really get a lot out of goal-setting, so I hope this post hasn't sounded too anti-goals in general! It's just not MY thing, and that's okay! :)
Happy 2012!!!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Other Blogs
Breast Cancer? But Doctor...I Hate Pink! is a great blog you should read. Here is a recent entry I got a good chuckle out of:
What Doctors Should Do
What Doctors Should Do
Living Downstream
My girlfriend, A, got me the Living Downstream DVD for Christmas!! I am sooooo excited! Check it out here - http://www.livingdownstream.com/. It's an amazing documentary of biologist/author/cancer survivor Dr. Sandra Steingraber's book by the same title. Steingraber writes articles and books about science in general, but specifically chemicals and the environmental links to cancer. Her writing is beautiful and poetic, even when she's writing about ugly topics, and I highly highly recommend all of her work. You can search for her on YouTube, too, to see clips from her lectures and speeches.
Take action against chemical pollution!
[I wrote this over the summer and forgot to post it... OOPS!]
Over the past several months, I have been reading several books about chemical pollution. It's a topic I knew next to nothing about until I actively started digging into it, and now I'm wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into. I'm learning a lot of scary things - for example, that all pressure-treated wood used before 2004, on common structures like decks and playgrounds, is loaded with the carcinogen arsenic, the substance that the EPA deems most dangerous of all (thanks to Sandra Steingraber's book, "Raising Elijah"). It's difficult. Once you KNOW about the carcinogenic, endocrine-disrupting, neurotoxic chemicals that are lurking in your canned soup, sunscreen, porch, pajamas, lightbulbs, breakfast toast, frying pan, shampoo, mattress, arts and crafts box, shower curtain, tuna sandwich, cash register receipts, dollar bills, and car, you can't NOT know.
Many (mainstream) cancer prevention sources deny that there is a link between chemical exposures and cancer. Those that acknowledge the link usually just advise you to educate yourself so you can make better choices, such as eating organic food and using natural body care products and household cleaners. It is IMPOSSIBLE for a person to completely eliminate her exposure to toxic chemicals simply by making better choices. This is true for the following reasons:
1) There are over 80,000 chemicals in use today. As Steingraber says in "Raising Elijah," only 200 of them have been tested under the Toxic Substances Control Act of 1976. To detoxify your house and belongings as much as possible, you would need nearly unlimited time and money, to research all of the products that contain toxins, and find and purchase their (often very expensive) alternatives. Examples of common, every day products that contain toxins or are likely to:
- flourescent lightbulbs (mercury)
- mattresses
- vinyl shower curtains (PVC)
- non-organic cotton anything (pesticides)
- make-up (numerous, unknown chemicals, because cosmetics are not regulated)
- non-organic produce (pesticides)
- non-organic dairy (rGBH growth hormones, antibiotics)
- non-stick cookware (teflon/perflourinated compounds)
- dry-cleaned clothes (perchloroethyline)
- plastic children's toys (BPA)
- paper money (BPA)
- cash register receipts (BPA)
- plastic containers and water bottles (BPA)
- canned foods (BPA)
- the interior of new cars
- flame-retardant items, such as pajamas (bromine)
- tuna (mercury)
- wooden decks or playgrounds (arsenic)
- soap (triclosan)
- pedicures (phthalates)
- hair straightening treatments at the salon (formaldehyde)
And there are tons more things that I'm not even aware of, of course, because even though I've read about 7 books about toxic chemicals so far, there's way too much to learn and remember! It's not realistic to expect that anyone has the time/money/resources to avoid ALL of those things...
2) Studies have found 200+ chemicals in the umbilical cord blood of newborns. Choosing organic produce and cleaning with baking soda and vinegar totally can not make up for the fact that we're contaminated FROM BIRTH! This is because...
3) We are all exposed to numerous chemicals against our will, without our knowledge, without our consent, and without any way of preventing it. Chemicals are in the air, water, soil, and food - to differing degrees in different locations, of course... but there's nowhere on Earth where they are NOT, and none of us can live in a bubble. Even if our personal homes are as toxin-free as possible, the moment we step outside, we're confronted with chemicals.
This last point has become clear to me over the months as I've spent a lot of time in other people's homes, as a babysitter and petsitter/housesitter. Just as I can't control my exposure to the numerous and unknown chemicals lurking in the air, I often can't control what I'm exposed to at other people's houses. If I was crazy enough to say, "Sorry, I can't housesit for you because you have Teflon pans, a Glade plug-in air freshener, dishwasher detergent with nasty chemicals, and a sofa that's probably still off-gassing something bad," or to refuse dinner party invitations because the menu might include pesticide-contaminated food, I wouldn't have any work or money or friends! Sometimes, it's a matter between choosing to keep the chemicals away from yourself, and maintaining positive relationships with other people, and this shouldn't have to be a choice we make. A 9-year-old girl I babysit for tries to do many nice things for me when I'm at her house: offers me special treats from her EasyBake oven, paints my nails, lets me swim in her pool, teaches me tricks on the playground, and shares her sunblock. My internal reaction is, ack! Artificial flavoring and high fructose corn syrup! Phthalates! Chlorine! Arsenic! Parabens! At first, I tried to politely decline some of these things, and if pressed for a reason, I'd casually say something about being allergic to the chemicals in it. But one day, after I had caved and let her paint my nails with her slightly-better nail polish from the local health food store, she wanted me to take it off with nail polish remover, and I said in what I thought was a casual voice, "No thanks, I'm worried it will - " and she blurted out, "You're scared of EVERYTHING!"
That stopped me in my tracks. I had become one of Those People, those paranoid, bubble-dwelling, party-pooper killjoys. How do you maintain a balance between trying your best to keep yourself safe from chemicals, and maintaining positive relationships with the people you care about?? I don't want to be so anal and obsessive about chemical exposures that I can't enjoy social situations or be a good guest in a person's home. I want to be able to say "Thank you!" when someone offers me a snack, instead of "Oh no, chemicals!" It's certainly not that 9-year-old's fault that there are chemicals lurking in the snacks and nail polish, and I certainly don't fault her parents, either, for buying/having those items in the home, because like I said in 1), chemicals are ubiquitous and not possible to be eliminated or avoided solely through consumer choice. I'm sure there are carcinogenic substances in my home, too! I try my best to buy organic, natural products, but who's to know, really? The cosmetics industry is entirely unregulated. Any company can write "ALL NATURAL!" on its bottle and then put in whatever chemicals it wants to. It is the government's responsibility to REGULATE and BAN dangerous chemicals as necessary, and it is industry's responsibility to put the health of the Earth and its inhabitants before profits.
I was pissed off at the government and chemical industry for leaving me in such a quandary. On the one hand, if I say "okay" to the nail polish, snacks, pool, playground, and sunblock, and all of the chemicals they involve, I'm knowingly increasing my risk of a cancer recurrence. (One might argue that those exposures are so miniscule they don't count, but they really do all add up, and if there are multiple exposures we have no control over, shouldn't we at least say no to the exposures that we CAN?) On the other hand, if I keep saying "no" to everything this little girl offers me, she, one of the kindest, most thoughtful kids I know, is going to be sad and take it personally. This is wrong and unfair.
This girl's awesome parents are conscious of avoiding chemical exposures as much as possible, too, I know - her mom wryly told me that the spray sunblock (i.e. with the chemicals) is the only kind she can use, because her daughter won't stand still long enough to fully apply the cream kind (i.e. organic), so it's a toss-up between which cancer you're risking - skin cancer from no sunblock, or other cancer from the carcinogens in the sunblock?? This is ridiculous, and an example of how impossible it is for us individuals to avoid cancer/exposure to dangerous, carcinogenic chemicals all on our own. WE NEED the government's help. It shouldn't be up to us to spend an hour in a grocery aisle as we try to decipher the ingredients to figure out which products won't give us cancer - food should be safe to eat! I shouldn't have to say no to a child who wants to paint my nails and share her sunblock - products that go on the body should be safe to use! I shouldn't have to worry that the wooden structures she's climbing all over on the playground have arsenic in them!
What we can do is support the Safe Chemicals Act of 2011, which was introduced by Senator Frank Lautenberg. You can read about it at the Safer Chemicals, Healthy Families website here. It's a great website with lots of info. I sent my two Senators several hand-written note cards, asking them to co-sponsor the Safe Chemicals Act... And one of them did! :) (Not just because I asked him to, of course!)
You and I are simply human beings doing the best we can to stay healthy and safe. But the weight should not all be on us. What difference does it make if there are no pesticides on my (or your) one pint of strawberries in the fridge, when the farm industry continues to use pesticides and herbicides so heavily that there is no body of water in which the weed-killer Atrazine cannot be found? Let's make it stop!!!
Over the past several months, I have been reading several books about chemical pollution. It's a topic I knew next to nothing about until I actively started digging into it, and now I'm wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into. I'm learning a lot of scary things - for example, that all pressure-treated wood used before 2004, on common structures like decks and playgrounds, is loaded with the carcinogen arsenic, the substance that the EPA deems most dangerous of all (thanks to Sandra Steingraber's book, "Raising Elijah"). It's difficult. Once you KNOW about the carcinogenic, endocrine-disrupting, neurotoxic chemicals that are lurking in your canned soup, sunscreen, porch, pajamas, lightbulbs, breakfast toast, frying pan, shampoo, mattress, arts and crafts box, shower curtain, tuna sandwich, cash register receipts, dollar bills, and car, you can't NOT know.
Many (mainstream) cancer prevention sources deny that there is a link between chemical exposures and cancer. Those that acknowledge the link usually just advise you to educate yourself so you can make better choices, such as eating organic food and using natural body care products and household cleaners. It is IMPOSSIBLE for a person to completely eliminate her exposure to toxic chemicals simply by making better choices. This is true for the following reasons:
1) There are over 80,000 chemicals in use today. As Steingraber says in "Raising Elijah," only 200 of them have been tested under the Toxic Substances Control Act of 1976. To detoxify your house and belongings as much as possible, you would need nearly unlimited time and money, to research all of the products that contain toxins, and find and purchase their (often very expensive) alternatives. Examples of common, every day products that contain toxins or are likely to:
- flourescent lightbulbs (mercury)
- mattresses
- vinyl shower curtains (PVC)
- non-organic cotton anything (pesticides)
- make-up (numerous, unknown chemicals, because cosmetics are not regulated)
- non-organic produce (pesticides)
- non-organic dairy (rGBH growth hormones, antibiotics)
- non-stick cookware (teflon/perflourinated compounds)
- dry-cleaned clothes (perchloroethyline)
- plastic children's toys (BPA)
- paper money (BPA)
- cash register receipts (BPA)
- plastic containers and water bottles (BPA)
- canned foods (BPA)
- the interior of new cars
- flame-retardant items, such as pajamas (bromine)
- tuna (mercury)
- wooden decks or playgrounds (arsenic)
- soap (triclosan)
- pedicures (phthalates)
- hair straightening treatments at the salon (formaldehyde)
And there are tons more things that I'm not even aware of, of course, because even though I've read about 7 books about toxic chemicals so far, there's way too much to learn and remember! It's not realistic to expect that anyone has the time/money/resources to avoid ALL of those things...
2) Studies have found 200+ chemicals in the umbilical cord blood of newborns. Choosing organic produce and cleaning with baking soda and vinegar totally can not make up for the fact that we're contaminated FROM BIRTH! This is because...
3) We are all exposed to numerous chemicals against our will, without our knowledge, without our consent, and without any way of preventing it. Chemicals are in the air, water, soil, and food - to differing degrees in different locations, of course... but there's nowhere on Earth where they are NOT, and none of us can live in a bubble. Even if our personal homes are as toxin-free as possible, the moment we step outside, we're confronted with chemicals.
This last point has become clear to me over the months as I've spent a lot of time in other people's homes, as a babysitter and petsitter/housesitter. Just as I can't control my exposure to the numerous and unknown chemicals lurking in the air, I often can't control what I'm exposed to at other people's houses. If I was crazy enough to say, "Sorry, I can't housesit for you because you have Teflon pans, a Glade plug-in air freshener, dishwasher detergent with nasty chemicals, and a sofa that's probably still off-gassing something bad," or to refuse dinner party invitations because the menu might include pesticide-contaminated food, I wouldn't have any work or money or friends! Sometimes, it's a matter between choosing to keep the chemicals away from yourself, and maintaining positive relationships with other people, and this shouldn't have to be a choice we make. A 9-year-old girl I babysit for tries to do many nice things for me when I'm at her house: offers me special treats from her EasyBake oven, paints my nails, lets me swim in her pool, teaches me tricks on the playground, and shares her sunblock. My internal reaction is, ack! Artificial flavoring and high fructose corn syrup! Phthalates! Chlorine! Arsenic! Parabens! At first, I tried to politely decline some of these things, and if pressed for a reason, I'd casually say something about being allergic to the chemicals in it. But one day, after I had caved and let her paint my nails with her slightly-better nail polish from the local health food store, she wanted me to take it off with nail polish remover, and I said in what I thought was a casual voice, "No thanks, I'm worried it will - " and she blurted out, "You're scared of EVERYTHING!"
That stopped me in my tracks. I had become one of Those People, those paranoid, bubble-dwelling, party-pooper killjoys. How do you maintain a balance between trying your best to keep yourself safe from chemicals, and maintaining positive relationships with the people you care about?? I don't want to be so anal and obsessive about chemical exposures that I can't enjoy social situations or be a good guest in a person's home. I want to be able to say "Thank you!" when someone offers me a snack, instead of "Oh no, chemicals!" It's certainly not that 9-year-old's fault that there are chemicals lurking in the snacks and nail polish, and I certainly don't fault her parents, either, for buying/having those items in the home, because like I said in 1), chemicals are ubiquitous and not possible to be eliminated or avoided solely through consumer choice. I'm sure there are carcinogenic substances in my home, too! I try my best to buy organic, natural products, but who's to know, really? The cosmetics industry is entirely unregulated. Any company can write "ALL NATURAL!" on its bottle and then put in whatever chemicals it wants to. It is the government's responsibility to REGULATE and BAN dangerous chemicals as necessary, and it is industry's responsibility to put the health of the Earth and its inhabitants before profits.
I was pissed off at the government and chemical industry for leaving me in such a quandary. On the one hand, if I say "okay" to the nail polish, snacks, pool, playground, and sunblock, and all of the chemicals they involve, I'm knowingly increasing my risk of a cancer recurrence. (One might argue that those exposures are so miniscule they don't count, but they really do all add up, and if there are multiple exposures we have no control over, shouldn't we at least say no to the exposures that we CAN?) On the other hand, if I keep saying "no" to everything this little girl offers me, she, one of the kindest, most thoughtful kids I know, is going to be sad and take it personally. This is wrong and unfair.
This girl's awesome parents are conscious of avoiding chemical exposures as much as possible, too, I know - her mom wryly told me that the spray sunblock (i.e. with the chemicals) is the only kind she can use, because her daughter won't stand still long enough to fully apply the cream kind (i.e. organic), so it's a toss-up between which cancer you're risking - skin cancer from no sunblock, or other cancer from the carcinogens in the sunblock?? This is ridiculous, and an example of how impossible it is for us individuals to avoid cancer/exposure to dangerous, carcinogenic chemicals all on our own. WE NEED the government's help. It shouldn't be up to us to spend an hour in a grocery aisle as we try to decipher the ingredients to figure out which products won't give us cancer - food should be safe to eat! I shouldn't have to say no to a child who wants to paint my nails and share her sunblock - products that go on the body should be safe to use! I shouldn't have to worry that the wooden structures she's climbing all over on the playground have arsenic in them!
What we can do is support the Safe Chemicals Act of 2011, which was introduced by Senator Frank Lautenberg. You can read about it at the Safer Chemicals, Healthy Families website here. It's a great website with lots of info. I sent my two Senators several hand-written note cards, asking them to co-sponsor the Safe Chemicals Act... And one of them did! :) (Not just because I asked him to, of course!)
You and I are simply human beings doing the best we can to stay healthy and safe. But the weight should not all be on us. What difference does it make if there are no pesticides on my (or your) one pint of strawberries in the fridge, when the farm industry continues to use pesticides and herbicides so heavily that there is no body of water in which the weed-killer Atrazine cannot be found? Let's make it stop!!!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Just say NO
Here is an article in the Huffington Post that reports on the dangers of the full-body X-ray scanners being used in airports today. For several months now, we've been told, oh, no worries, the scanners are safe... radiation exposure is so minimal it's nothing to be concerned about. New studies are showing otherwise. They could be causing between 6 and 100 people per year to be diagnosed with cancer.
When I flew in August, I opted out and asked for the pat-down instead. Not surprisingly, I was - as far as I could tell - the only person in the huge line who said no to the scanner. It was a little embarrassing to be singled out, when I had to stand there next to the scanner while an employee hollered "PAT DOWN ON LINE 3!" (or whatever) so that the woman who did the pat downs knew to come over to me. She took me off to the side (I had the option of going to a separate room, but it didn't seem worth the hassle), and she was very, very polite and respectful the whole time. She made eye contact and explained everything she was going to do before she did it. She told me probably 3 times that she had to touch my breasts with the backs of her hands. She was clearly trying very hard to be kind about it, knowing that people really hate having pat-downs. The pat-down was no big deal to me, once I was over the mild embarrassment of knowing everyone was staring at me, the only one who said no to the scanner that they were all just going through with no hesitation. I wasn't upset to have this woman touching my clothed body with her gloved hands, even when she had to touch my breasts. I was very glad to have that instead of having more radiation put into my body. And after having spent 6 months going through breast cancer treatment, during which multiple strangers were doing things like sticking needles and wires into my naked breast, having this woman touch my clothed breasts with the backs of her gloved hands was NOTHING.
What I'm saying is, I highly encourage EVERYONE - especially those of you who fly frequently - to opt for the pat-down instead of going through the scanner. It's not fun to have a stranger touching your body, I know, but the way strangers have to touch your body to treat you for cancer is much worse. For me, the only embarrassing part was, like I said, being the only person saying no to the scanner and feeling singled out. But this won't be an issue if more and more of us start saying no. And speak up, if you can - say, "I won't go through the scanner. Radiation causes cancer." Other people will hear you, and maybe someone else will listen and follow your lead.
When I flew in August, I opted out and asked for the pat-down instead. Not surprisingly, I was - as far as I could tell - the only person in the huge line who said no to the scanner. It was a little embarrassing to be singled out, when I had to stand there next to the scanner while an employee hollered "PAT DOWN ON LINE 3!" (or whatever) so that the woman who did the pat downs knew to come over to me. She took me off to the side (I had the option of going to a separate room, but it didn't seem worth the hassle), and she was very, very polite and respectful the whole time. She made eye contact and explained everything she was going to do before she did it. She told me probably 3 times that she had to touch my breasts with the backs of her hands. She was clearly trying very hard to be kind about it, knowing that people really hate having pat-downs. The pat-down was no big deal to me, once I was over the mild embarrassment of knowing everyone was staring at me, the only one who said no to the scanner that they were all just going through with no hesitation. I wasn't upset to have this woman touching my clothed body with her gloved hands, even when she had to touch my breasts. I was very glad to have that instead of having more radiation put into my body. And after having spent 6 months going through breast cancer treatment, during which multiple strangers were doing things like sticking needles and wires into my naked breast, having this woman touch my clothed breasts with the backs of her gloved hands was NOTHING.
What I'm saying is, I highly encourage EVERYONE - especially those of you who fly frequently - to opt for the pat-down instead of going through the scanner. It's not fun to have a stranger touching your body, I know, but the way strangers have to touch your body to treat you for cancer is much worse. For me, the only embarrassing part was, like I said, being the only person saying no to the scanner and feeling singled out. But this won't be an issue if more and more of us start saying no. And speak up, if you can - say, "I won't go through the scanner. Radiation causes cancer." Other people will hear you, and maybe someone else will listen and follow your lead.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
What do you do when a nightmare comes true?
I wrote the following on August 15, and forgot about it until now:
"...I started worrying about cancer lurking in me in places no one would think to look. And last night when I went to sleep, I had a horrible nightmare about being diagnosed with cancer again, going through treatment all over again, and then cutting off 'cancer-prone' bits of flesh all over my body because I had read on the Internet that's what you had to do to prevent a recurrence. It was such a yucky dream."
I can't believe my nightmare actually came true. I mean, it's common for cancer survivors to occasionally have nightmares about being diagnosed with cancer again... that's part of being a cancer survivor. Typically, this kind of anxiety is best dealt with through something like meditation and chocolate, you know? But WTF, my nightmare came TRUE less than two months later! So was it really my intuition, telling me to get that mole check? It led to a melanoma diagnosis, and now every 3 months or 6 months (jury's still out) for at least a couple of years, I have to have skin checks...which will most likely lead to, just like in my nightmare, the dermatologist "cutting off cancer-prone bits of flesh," i.e. moles.
I don't know what to do about this. In general, I'm not anxiety-prone. I've always had a pretty good head on my shoulders, and weigh risks appropriately. I take rational precautions, as opposed to being too fearful or too cavalier. But now... it's going to take a lot of mental strength to not turn into a worrywart hypochondriac. How do I come to terms with the fact that despite being young, healthy, physically fit, etc., I've been diagnosed with two different cancers? I've always been a happy, optimistic person, in general. But right now I'm having a hard time trusting my body or trusting the universe, and I have this crazy urge to have every possible body part and internal organ biopsied or scanned. When I start worrying about some aspect of my health, I don't know how to calm myself down, because I really can't believe, "Oh, it's nothing!" I've never had a benign biopsy.
I'm behind with work and sleep and doing a poor job keeping in touch with friends. There's so much to do, and yet, I feel like spending all day reading the Tao te Ching, which is all about how to be more at peace with the uncertainties of life and life however it is.
"...I started worrying about cancer lurking in me in places no one would think to look. And last night when I went to sleep, I had a horrible nightmare about being diagnosed with cancer again, going through treatment all over again, and then cutting off 'cancer-prone' bits of flesh all over my body because I had read on the Internet that's what you had to do to prevent a recurrence. It was such a yucky dream."
I can't believe my nightmare actually came true. I mean, it's common for cancer survivors to occasionally have nightmares about being diagnosed with cancer again... that's part of being a cancer survivor. Typically, this kind of anxiety is best dealt with through something like meditation and chocolate, you know? But WTF, my nightmare came TRUE less than two months later! So was it really my intuition, telling me to get that mole check? It led to a melanoma diagnosis, and now every 3 months or 6 months (jury's still out) for at least a couple of years, I have to have skin checks...which will most likely lead to, just like in my nightmare, the dermatologist "cutting off cancer-prone bits of flesh," i.e. moles.
I don't know what to do about this. In general, I'm not anxiety-prone. I've always had a pretty good head on my shoulders, and weigh risks appropriately. I take rational precautions, as opposed to being too fearful or too cavalier. But now... it's going to take a lot of mental strength to not turn into a worrywart hypochondriac. How do I come to terms with the fact that despite being young, healthy, physically fit, etc., I've been diagnosed with two different cancers? I've always been a happy, optimistic person, in general. But right now I'm having a hard time trusting my body or trusting the universe, and I have this crazy urge to have every possible body part and internal organ biopsied or scanned. When I start worrying about some aspect of my health, I don't know how to calm myself down, because I really can't believe, "Oh, it's nothing!" I've never had a benign biopsy.
I'm behind with work and sleep and doing a poor job keeping in touch with friends. There's so much to do, and yet, I feel like spending all day reading the Tao te Ching, which is all about how to be more at peace with the uncertainties of life and life however it is.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Conflicted
I'm having a hard time with the fact that there were two different types of cancer in my 32-year-old body. This means that I now have to be hyper-vigilant about TWO cancers for the rest of my life. I will need to take whatever measures I can to attempt to prevent a recurrence of either one, and I will need to get regular skin checks and breast exams of various modalities, for the rest of my life. I'm feeling overwhelmed by this.
I'm feeling quite discouraged by the fact that I was diagnosed with a second cancer despite having spent the past 2 years adopting an anti-cancer diet and lifestyle. I've been taking lots of anti-cancer supplements, eating lots of anti-cancer foods, avoiding sugar, de-stressing, etc. Now I'm torn between two mindsets - part of me wants to say SCREW IT, it clearly doesn't work anyway, so why bother?, and eat all the damn ice cream sundaes I want. The other part of me thinks, I'm obviously not following the anti-cancer rules ENOUGH and need to do even more - e.g. maybe cut out dairy, be even MORE strict about no sugar, meditate daily, etc. The problem is that following all of the anti-cancer rules to a T is nearly impossible, and trying to do so stresses me out... and paradoxically, it makes things worse. Dr. David Servan-Schrieber made clear in his book, Anti-Cancer, that your immune system is strongest when there is joy and passion in your life and you're "living a life worth living." So if I stressed myself out by trying to follow the anti-cancer diet and lifestyle rules to a T, I'd be missing the point. I need to find a balance, of course.
The thing about melanoma is that it's much more preventable than breast cancer is. It's really interesting that following my treatment for breast cancer, I became obsessed with learning about the environmental links to breast cancer and advocating for the elimination/regulation of toxic chemicals, and then was diagnosed with a second cancer that, as far as I can tell, has very little to do with environmental toxins. Melanoma risk can be drastically reduced by decreasing one's exposure to UV sun rays. That's pretty clear cut... I've already started buying new sunblocks and researching products such as sun protective clothing (50+ SPF) and laundry detergent that makes your clothing more resistant to the sun. I have a bad feeling that I could go overboard with my attempts at preventing melanoma recurrence, to make up for the fact that there's so little I can do (relatively speaking) to prevent the breast cancer from returning. So, friends, please don't let me turn into a sun-phobic vampire, okay?
I'm feeling quite discouraged by the fact that I was diagnosed with a second cancer despite having spent the past 2 years adopting an anti-cancer diet and lifestyle. I've been taking lots of anti-cancer supplements, eating lots of anti-cancer foods, avoiding sugar, de-stressing, etc. Now I'm torn between two mindsets - part of me wants to say SCREW IT, it clearly doesn't work anyway, so why bother?, and eat all the damn ice cream sundaes I want. The other part of me thinks, I'm obviously not following the anti-cancer rules ENOUGH and need to do even more - e.g. maybe cut out dairy, be even MORE strict about no sugar, meditate daily, etc. The problem is that following all of the anti-cancer rules to a T is nearly impossible, and trying to do so stresses me out... and paradoxically, it makes things worse. Dr. David Servan-Schrieber made clear in his book, Anti-Cancer, that your immune system is strongest when there is joy and passion in your life and you're "living a life worth living." So if I stressed myself out by trying to follow the anti-cancer diet and lifestyle rules to a T, I'd be missing the point. I need to find a balance, of course.
The thing about melanoma is that it's much more preventable than breast cancer is. It's really interesting that following my treatment for breast cancer, I became obsessed with learning about the environmental links to breast cancer and advocating for the elimination/regulation of toxic chemicals, and then was diagnosed with a second cancer that, as far as I can tell, has very little to do with environmental toxins. Melanoma risk can be drastically reduced by decreasing one's exposure to UV sun rays. That's pretty clear cut... I've already started buying new sunblocks and researching products such as sun protective clothing (50+ SPF) and laundry detergent that makes your clothing more resistant to the sun. I have a bad feeling that I could go overboard with my attempts at preventing melanoma recurrence, to make up for the fact that there's so little I can do (relatively speaking) to prevent the breast cancer from returning. So, friends, please don't let me turn into a sun-phobic vampire, okay?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Double Cancer
This is how it all happened…
Two years ago, September 2009, I had a mole that worried me, right under my arm pit. Freaked that I had cancer, I made an appointment for a physical, mainly so I could ask for a referral to a dermatologist to get that mole checked out. At my physical, I was surprised when the doctor found a lump in my breast, and recommended that I get THAT checked out. So, I got both the mole and the breast lump checked…the mole turned out to be no big deal, but SURPRISE! The breast lump was cancer.
After half a year of breast cancer treatments, in September 2010, I went back to the dermatologist for my first annual full-body mole scan. I looked at the mole I had been worried about, which now looked so silly and benign next to the surgical scar on my breast right next to it. “Isn’t it strange,” I mused to the dermatologist, “that I came in here thinking I had a cancerous mole, when actually, the cancer was a couple inches over to the left, in my breast?” We were both happy that I was healthy and well.
Fast forward a year to September 2011, when I went back for my second annual full-body mole scan. This time, she found a different mole that looked suspicious to her, and she shaved it off to be analyzed.
I received a letter in the mail Monday evening, saying “The results of your biopsy show concerning abnormal pathology. Please call ASAP.” It was past business hours, so I couldn’t do anything until the morning. I was scared. Waiting to find out whether or not you have cancer is almost worse than knowing you have cancer. To me, the adjective “concerning” in front of the words “abnormal pathology” seemed like codespeak for "cancer." I couldn’t eat or work or focus on anything, and I just wanted to fall asleep fast. I spent a while debating whether to take my very last Ativan (anti-anxiety pill). I had been given a very small Ativan prescription while experiencing anxiety during radiation, but I had saved the last pill “for emergencies.” I figured this qualified, and I also figured, what the hell, if it turns out I do have cancer again, I’m sure I can get more Ativan pills NO PROBLEM. Ha. I took the stupid pill and zonked out at 9:30 PM. I had horrible dreams about my body decaying until it was as porous as a sponge.
First thing in the morning, I didn’t call the dermatologist, I went straight to her office. When I introduced myself at the receptionist’s window, she immediately ushered me into a room, and that’s when I had the oh, shit feeling. And yup, the doctor came in and told me: malignant melanoma. She knew my breast cancer history, and she said, before I even could, “I know, this is so unfair.”
I cried for all of 20 seconds before taking a deep breath and asking, “Do we know what stage and grade? And what do we do now?” It’s bittersweet to now be so much smarter, stronger, wiser about cancer… in 2009 when I was dx’d with breast cancer, I cried a river, could not listen to a single damn word the doctor said, and felt like the ground was disintegrating underneath me. This time, I knew what to do. I got a print out of my pathology report, and began Googling to find the most helpful melanoma resources online, being careful to take people’s stories with a grain of salt, knowing that typically it’s the people with the “worst” cases who are the most prolific posters. I called my girlfriend and my parents and a couple close friends for support. I took the day off of work to care for myself, and I did cry several times, but I also ate anti-cancer foods (blueberries, cabbage cooked in turmeric, green tea, 72% dark chocolate), took a long walk, and meditated in the woods. I started re-reading “Anti-Cancer: A New Way of Life” by Dr. David Servan-Schrieber, because it’s the most uplifting, practical cancer book I know. It’s “the good book,” as my family refers to it.
All day, my recurring thought was, “I can’t believe I was diagnosed with cancer for the second time today.” It felt so unreal. I keep reminding myself that a stage 0/in-situ melanoma is really not so horrible and worrisome, and it’s going to be completely dealt with in just one quick and easy surgery. From a rational standpoint, this is pretty minor. It’s just difficult emotionally, to have two types of cancers, by age 32. It makes me feel like I’m “cancer prone” or something, and makes me wonder what the hell else might be lurking in my body undetected. However, through brief Googling, I discovered that it’s likely that there is actually a link between breast cancer and melanoma. That is, several studies have found that women who are diagnosed with breast cancer are at higher risk for melanoma, and vice versa. No one had ever told me that before, so I’m not sure how true that is… but it’s something for me to research further. At least if there’s a link between the two cancers, it makes me feel better, in a way – it means I’m not just susceptible to developing any and every cancer, you know?
I have a lot of researching to do now. (If you have good melanoma resources or info, let me know!) I’ve been so immersed in the online breast cancer world; it’s strange to now be at square one with getting to know a NEW cancer. It’s wrong and unfair and I shouldn’t be in this position. But I’m trying to believe that something good is going to come out of this, that I just can’t see yet… because as much as I hated hearing anyone suggest that “cancer is a gift,” I must admit, my life post-breast cancer is so much better than my life pre-breast cancer. My amazing girlfriend and I have been together for 13 wonderful months now, and I won’t get into the whole story, but – I wouldn’t have met her, if I hadn’t had breast cancer! That makes it all worth it to me. If having cancer is what it took for me to find the love of my life, then so be it. What’s this melanoma going to bring into my life? That remains to be seen.
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