Have you or someone you care about been touched by cancer? I have – ME! And it SUCKEDI was 39 years old when my diagnosed with stage II ductal and lobular breast cancer. Hearing those words was surreal. I could not even say the words, “I have cancer” for at least three weeks. If I didn’t say it; it was not true. No one wants to hear those words, but I did early in December 2005. I had several biopsies over the past fifteen years, but this time it was malignant.
What Do I Do Now?
Cry! I cried a lot. Most of the time in the shower. Water is very healing. No one was there to look at me, judge me or tell me that everything was going to be okay. The reassurances from friends and family were well-meaning, but I didn’t want to hear THAT phrase. I wanted to wallow in self-pity on my own terms and let myself FEEL the “suckiness” of the situation. This was grieving for the changes my body was going to endure. Mostly, it was a fear of the unknown. I was fearful that I could lose this battle and how others would perceive me if I survived. The only certainty was that I would lose my hair and my breasts.
Other than my husband and a very close friend, I informed my parents. Ironically, they had just bought a house and moved closer to me. What a blessing! They arrived the day of my biopsy which means that they were where I could fall into their arms with my head in their lap, sobbing, and could tell me that everything would be alright. They were allowed to tell me that phrase.
What I did to NOT Make It Suck (so much)
After the initial shock of hearing my impending doom from the doctor, I drove to my husband’s office. To this day I don’t remember the drive. I was in a daze. He followed me home that day. I decided that I needed to counter my grief and shock with something happy. I made two quick decisions. One was to cut down our Christmas tree for the holiday. Decision number two was not to tell my children until after the holidays. After all, it was right before Christmas! I wanted them to be blissfully unaware of my fearful reality and not alter theirs. If they were happy, I could manage to be as well.
Treatment Time
I was still fearful, but I did what my doctors told me to do. I went to every appointment with my husband and when he could not be there, I went with my mom. I had a battery of tests; blood work, imaging, and more surgery. I met with surgeons, plastic surgeons, oncologists, education nurses, and the group support staff in the hospital. This was one action that I was NOT going to procrastinate; my impending poor health.
Each day of my chemotherapy and the following day to get a shot to help me produce red blood cells to keep up my energy was met not with enthusiasm, but as an obligation. I knew that I had to keep up this routine otherwise the people that counted on me would suffer with me as well.
When my last week of chemo was approaching, I decided to get something special to celebrate, a FUN wig. My choice? A store in downtown Portland called Spartacus. If you think about the store name, you might understand the type of items they sell. If not, go to their website. The wig I was in search of was not just any wig, but a purple one. Purple was power! I know, you are thinking about the “pink ribbon” of Komen, but I loved, loved, loved purple.
I wore this on the last day of my chemotherapy as I intended. As a badge of courage. I had bought my “Purple Heart” honor and put it on my head. I received many smiles and giggles which was the reaction I wanted and needed. Humor is a great tool and I incorporated it at every opportunity I could muster. My last day of chemo was also my first appointment for radiation therapy. During that first appointment, a picture is taken to ensure that you are the correct person to receive this very targeted and sometimes necessary therapy. On those days when I was feeling low on energy, my picture of me in my purple wig would make the corners of my mouth turn from down to up even for the smallest of seconds. The picture of me with my purple wig is with a woman whom I deeply admire. She was the surgeon that performed my mastectomy and allowed me to express my fears and thoughts and shared my moments of hilarity during my manic times as well. Thank you Dr. Laurel Soot.
Reality Check
How do we NOT get to this point of being diagnosed with cancer? The theories are endless. One idea says to only eat organic and vegan. Another theory says to exercise more and lose weight. And yet, another says to make sure that you breastfeed. There are many hypotheses to read, but the best advice to provide is the following;
- Breast Self-Checks –I began performing self-checks as a teenager. It is how I found my first lump at the age of 19. Here is a link to better explain if you are unsure what you need to do.
- Mammograms – Because I found my first lump at 19 this is also when I got my first mammogram. We all know that they are uncomfortable. I mean really, who wants to go get their boobs squished? They can find things that you and your doctor cannot find. Do them and don’t be afraid of the testing.
- Know your History -My family had a history of cancer, but what I found through genetic testing is that I did not carry either of the known genes (at the time of testing) BRCA 1 or 2.
Of course, breast cancer does not the only game in town. My aunt succumbed to metastatic melanoma. My mother-in-law did not overcome her lung cancer. We know that Patrick Swayze lost his fight with pancreatic cancer. While I was in my chemo room community, women there were also diagnosed with uterine and ovarian cancer. What is the reality check for them? Screening.
The Mayo Clinic has seven tips for aiding in cancer prevention:
- Don’t use tobacco.
- Eat a healthy diet.
- Maintain a healthy weight and be active.
- Protect yourself from the sun.
- Get vaccinated.
- Avoid risky behaviors.
- Get regular checkups.
Here is a link from the Mayo Clinic for more information: https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/adult-health/in-depth/cancer-prevention/art-20044816
If you become a “sister” in the cancer fight, my biggest advice to give is this:
- Laugh! It is a wonder drug that your own body produces.
- Dance! Who cares if you are a good dancer or not it certainly should not matter to anyone else.
- Write. Many oncologists have programs that give you a journal. Write down your thoughts. You will look at them again days, months, and years later and gain a great perspective.
- Friends are Vital! Let them help. They really want to, but don’t always know how. Tell them what you need. For a list of ideas go here – https://breastfriends.org/resources/
Caring for You and your New Community
I have known many people who have survived their cancer and who have not. I am a survivor. When we survive our perception of life is changed. Every illness, pain, or sniffle is thought to be cancer. As Gilda Radner stated, we need to live a full, productive life. We need to learn to thrive beyond what we have endured. Many individuals who become part of the community learn to support others in their journey. Passing on your knowledge and experience is healing for you. That individual you help? It lets them know that they are not alone. We are social creatures that thrive by interacting with others. We are a village.
