An Actual Year of Weather

It has been a year. A year since a doctor looked me in the eyes and said, “I have bad news.”

There is so much to say, and nothing to say. I’ve been writing and writing. There are a thousand moments, a billion thoughts, a zillion reflections.

Cancer leaves one with a multitude of things to adjust to.

Just this morning I was at the hospital for a routine test. It was nothing, just a follow-up, and I am sure I am fine. But my anxiety was high because being in the hospital hurts my throat and makes it hard to breathe.

I walked past the cancer clinic and felt this strange empty feeling, like I missed the place. The truth is that as much as I hope I never end up back there getting more treatments, it was a safe and hopeful place for me for a long time. Saying good-bye at the cancer center was a transitional moment and isn’t that just what life is full of?

Driving home I did some fire breathing to try to relax the vise in my throat. This is where you inhale deep and then drive the air up the back of your throat as you stick out your tongue and make a low “ahhhh” noise. It helps. Oddly.

I may have gotten some weird looks at the lights.

Oh, I’ve missed you, dear reader. I’ve been so stuck between wanting to say everything and needing to say nothing.

I wanted to tell you that my hands and feet feel like they’ve been stuck into a hive of bees, and that my joints and muscles hurt all the time. Chemotherapy damaged my nerves and addled my brain and made my ovaries fail. I didn’t lose my hair, though, so there’s that. Also, my tastebuds did rebound and I can taste my food again. I stop numerous times everyday while eating and think, “oh, this is soooo good!”

Sometimes I am struck by an immense feeling of gratitude to be finished with chemo and to be healed up from surgery and radiation. Being sore and numb and buzzy and fatigued is to be expected, and with time I will get better.

I am alive.

A year ago I missed my daughter’s performances in the Kiwanis Music Festival because I was in St. John’s getting radiation treatments. A year ago she played the part of “Fern” in Charlotte’s Web and I was not there because I was in the hospital.

This year I will be in the front row, for every single thing.

A year ago I prepared February birthday suppers for both my boys not knowing if I would be around to see their next birthday. I wrote in my journal, “Please, please let me be here next year for my kids. Just give me ten years, so I can help them grow up.”

And now I have the luxury of thinking I could live to be old.

It has been a year and I have learned to be careful about what I expose myself to. I have spent too many nights worrying because I made the mistake of consulting a website about recurrence statistics or because I have a new pain and I don’t know what it is.

My mom always says, “We will worry about it when there is really something to worry about, and not before.” And that is my mantra now.

It has been a year and I beat back the rushes each day, the nettles reaching up to sting me. The fog is lifting. The clean, blue lake of my life beckons. I will emerge from this gnarled foliage.

Cast your worries carelessly like garments on the shore, my friends. We will swim and swim.

Photo by Robin Dalton, Badger Lake, October 2019

Getting our Facts Straight

We made a new friend.

My daughter and I had the most wonderful day yesterday. We went out for lunch, did a little shopping (and laughing) at the mall, and went bowling with some friends. I honestly did not think about cancer once. Why? Because at this moment, my cancer is gone from my body, thanks to modern medicine.

After I got home from our wonderful girls’ day, I was resting on the couch checking Facebook. I noticed an article being shared around. As I read it, my heart started to pound and my hands started to shake. I wanted to scream at my innocent little phone screen. For there it was, another article about cancer survival rates being the same as they were a century ago and the “cancer industry” being all about making money and not about curing cancer. The author makes reference to a documentary that refers to the treatments I’ve had (radiation, chemotherapy and surgery) as “burn, poison, slash.” They make a claim that if people would only use natural approaches to cure their cancer, the rates of survival would be higher.

I am not a medical doctor, nor a scientist, but as a cancer patient I have done a lot of reading and research. When someone looks you in the eyes and tells you that you have stage 3 cancer, you sit up and you take notice.

When my cancer care team came up with a treatment plan for me, I researched it. The decisions they made were based on years of clinical trials and millions of dollars of research. If I had grown these tumours in my body 100 years ago, or even 50 years ago, I would be on my death bed at this point. But here I am, bowling with my little girl and taking silly pictures at the mall.

When I made the decision to undergo 12 heavy rounds of chemotherapy after already having gone through so much, I did the research first. My oncologist explained to me that the chemo would reduce the risk of a recurrence of my cancer from about 65% to 25%. I read the journal article that laid out the research that was done in clinical trials with my chemotherapy regime. The people who took part in these trials had the same cancer as me. And their outcomes were better because of this course of chemotherapy. Thankfully, now I will get the same benefit. So I will be forever grateful to the researchers, doctors and nurses who ran these trials, and the clinical trial participants themselves.

These days, I’m following immunotherapy research. If my cancer does come back in the future I may benefit from this research. As a matter of fact, I have met people online, many who are living with stage 4 cancer, who are being kept alive today by new, cutting-edge methods of treating cancer such as cyber-knife technology, targeted drug therapy, or immunotherapy.

Image result for nobel prize for immunotherapy
Allison and Honjo were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology/Medicine in 2018 for their work in Immunotherapy Research
Image result for nobel prize for immunotherapy
A little breakdown of Immunotherapy research by Allison and Honjo. Many patients’ cancers have been put into remission with this therapy. Some of them were only days from dying at the time.
https://www.cancerresearch.org/immunotherapy/stories/patients/emily-whitehead

I take a holistic approach to my health, and always have. Before my diagnosis I ate well and exercised and generally tried to take care of my mental, physical and spiritual health. Throughout my cancer treatment I have been going for massages and acupuncture treatments to relieve my symptoms and help with my general well-being. I use mediation, yoga and visualization to calm myself and deal with the psychological toll of this experience.

I believe that integrating Eastern medicine approaches into my treatment plan has helped me immensely in my recovery, but there was no “natural approach” that was going to shrink my big tumour and its’ little sidekick deposit. Cancer got radiated and shrivelled and cut out of me just before it ran rampant through my body. My insidious little batch of mutated cells were marching their way into my lymph nodes, but my surgeon and her team halted their progress. These people are my heroes, and I can’t help but get upset while reading an article that suggests that they are only in it for the money.

The article I read yesterday suggested there was no cure for cancer. But, in fact, cancer is entirely curable if caught early enough. Researchers and medical professionals know this. This is why we have screening for colon, prostate, breast and cervical cancer to name a few. Again, years of research and a lot of money has gone into developing screening tools and treatments for pre-cancer or early stage cancer, as well as approaches to prevention.

If you are interested in reading about cancer rates, treatment, or research globally, I’d suggest you start with the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC), which is part of the World Health Organization (WHO). One of the recent articles posted there discusses the recent rise in survival rates in wealthy countries for certain types of cancers. Of course, their information is based on properly conducted scientific research.

https://www.iarc.fr/news-events/new-iarc-study-reports-increasing-cancer-survival-and-progress-in-cancer-control-across-high-income-countries-since-1995/

I hope this post helps to explain to people that, when they donate to cancer research, they are really making a difference. I also hope that, if your life is touched by cancer now or in the future, you have access to the kind of care and treatment that I have had. My doctors and nurses have been nothing but compassionate and informed. They made, and continue to make, educated decisions for me and my health, and here I am.

I still have a way to go in my cancer experience. I am not the same as I was a year ago, but I am alive. I am bowling and writing this post. I am kissing my daughter’s cheek during funny moments at the mall.

And to the “cancer industry” that yesterday’s article presented in such a scathing light? All I can say is “thank-you.”

Waiting for a scan in this classy get-up. MRI machines are just one of the amazing technological developments that help diagnose and treat cancer.