In a few short weeks, it will be two years since I started my journey as a breast cancer patient. It has been a life experience I could have never imagined, had I not been diagnosed with the disease.
Last year at this time, I was winding down my radiation treatments as part of my ongoing battle to fight breast cancer. I was looking forward to moving on with my life. I started resuming activities like going to the gym for daily workouts starting on January 1, going through rehab to regain the use of my body post-treatment, and eventually returning to work this past fall.
In January 2011, I began taking Tamoxifen, a cancer drug that is used to block the production of estrogen, which forms cancer cells. I was hopeful that my body would accept the drug without complications. It did for a short while until March, when I started to have complications that I should not have had with the drug.
My doctor and I monitored the symptoms for a few months. I underwent a gamut of diagnostic tests and watched to see what would develop. In September, another complication surfaced, and a specialist was consulted. A decision was made to act quickly to treat the complication, so that I could continue to use Tamoxifen. I was scheduled for major surgery to remove organs at risk in developing cancer.
The surgery took place in early December. Even though, I had been in excellent physical health prior to the procedure, the bounce back has been brutal. It has been a trying time physically, mentally, and emotionally. And like the earlier treatments I had, this one too posed rare complications, which I am being tested for, and await results for treatment.
This latest cancer prevention treatment has been a setback and a disruption—particularly because I finally returned to work in early October, ending the last piece of unfinished business in my life post-treatment. I hope to “begin again” at work by the end of January.
As frustrating as this is, a medical mentor of mine, who is a cancer survivor, comforted me a few weeks ago. “Once you’re a cancer patient, you are always a cancer patient. It doesn’t end. This is a part of living with the disease. Your life will never be the same, this is your new normal.”
This latest treatment, coupled with the news these past two months that three friends of mine are in active treatment for breast cancer, is yet another reminder that the lives we live are often take for granted. As a breast cancer survivor, who is now journeying with friends through their treatments, I am reminded again how fragile life is.
The gift of life—my second gift of life, compels me to keep fighting and continue living this new normal life, with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Cancer and the Return to Work: The World of Work and I “Ain’t What We Used to Be”
Three months ago I wrote my last blog, which seems like an eternity. Since August 15, my world has changed considerably. Work has entered into it.
I spent the last part of August and September preparing for my return to work. Work, like life, does not stand still. It changes, as life changes. My life, and my work-world have changed.
What’s different? Everything.
Returning to work feels like I have been hired as a new staff in a job I have held for over 10 years. The job I left has changed in the 18 months I was away. The way the work has been done has changed. The people I worked with have changed. The organization has changed. My manager has changed. My reporting structure has changed. But much more noticeably, I have changed because of my cancer experience.
My energy levels are far lower than they were before I had cancer. I tire more easily. Mentally, I am more taxed at the end of the workday because treatments have left me with some cognitive impairment, which forces me to have to work harder to do my job. I cannot multi-task anymore, and it takes me longer to complete a task. My executive function is also affected.
The large volume of work I once handled prior to cancer is a thing of the past. I simply cannot work that hard anymore. This comes as a big “reality check” for me, the over-working, over-achieving perfectionist.
I now have to admit that I will never be able to handle work the way I did before my cancer diagnosis. This last piece of returning to a life after cancer—the return to work, comes with another area of grieving I have to overcome. This grieving is similar to other aspects of my life that I have had to work through in living with cancer. I have to bid good-bye to my past as I usher in the “new” present reality.
In returning to work, I live with a new fatigue I have never experienced before. It is similar, but different to the fatigue I had with chemo. This one just leaves me feeling mentally exhausted and light-headed every night. It’s difficult to explain, but fellow cancer survivors will understand what I mean as many of cancer pals also live with this fatigue in their return to work.
This is all part of the cancer journey and the acceptance of a “new normal” life after cancer treatments. I can now begin to understand what other cancer patients before me have said; life after cancer is different.
But, I have survived and that’s all that matters. Every day that I wake up and greet the morn, I am grateful for this gift of a second life. It is precious.
There are no bad days in living with cancer, after coming face-to face with the possibility of death. Each day, I rise and meet the challenges that come with it and do so with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
EDITOR'S NOTE:
I am currently writing a new blog entry, which is long overdue since my last posting in late summer. My recent return to full-time work and cancer patient advocacy volunteerism has kept me steadily busy since early fall. Watch for a new blog update from me in the next few days.
The following is a guest post from cancer survivor David Haas who is a reader of my blog, and a writer of his own cancer blog. David’s sentiments are similar to mine, as I am a member of a breast cancer support group. The advice in David’s column is helpful to cancer patients and their caregivers.
Cancer Support Groups Can Really Help
By David Haas
Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance Guest Blogger -
http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/
Anyone who has cancer, who is in remission or is going through cancer treatments, understands how traumatic and stressful this can be. Many people in these situations are afraid and confused about what to expect. While their friends and family are empathetic and loving, these people do not necessarily provide the information that the cancer survivor is seeking. The devastating effects of cancer often leave the people it strikes, at a loss about how to deal with the tremendous stress that these conditions cause. To make matters even worse, studies have shown that stress has a pronounced effect on how cancerous tumors grow and spread.
The American Institute of Stress indicates that people who get the emotional support they need have far less stress and are able to heal more rapidly. Less stress means a better ability to deal with the cancer. Emotional support can be from compassionates friends, family members, a doctor or from a patient advocacy or cancer support group. However, no one truly understands the devastating effects of cancer better than other people who are experiencing or have experienced the disease themselves. This is why cancer support groups are so highly recommended.
There are all kinds of cancer survivor networks on the Internet. These groups can be especially helpful if someone is experiencing a particular effect of a treatment that prevents him or her from leaving home. One need not be incapacitated to participate and enjoy online groups, however. Some people find it less stressful to use this modality to communicate.
Support groups that exist outside the Internet can help any cancer survivor gain knowledge about how to fight his or her disease, whether it manifests itself as mesothelioma, breast cancer, leukemia, or any other type of cancer. They can teach members about the negative (or positive) effects of the various treatments, and advocate for high quality health care.
Some support groups are peer moderated. This means that they are not run by members of the medical community, but rather are run by other cancer survivors who gather together to talk about their personal experiences and any new information they might have learned about.
There are also professionally moderated cancer support groups that are commonly found through hospitals. These are often run by doctors or psychologists. Both types of groups offer encouragement and psychological support, valuable information and opinions and direct accounts of personal experience, but most importantly, the opportunity for cancer survivors to experience a human connection and camaraderie.
Others have told me that the last piece of unfinished business in a life changed by cancer is returning to work. At 52, I am too young to retire and do enjoy working. Fortunately, I am going back to the position I left before cancer treatments. It is a time of eagerness and anxiety.
My gradual return to work will take place after the upcoming Labour Day weekend. Returning to work is the final frontier of assimilation in my “new normal” life after cancer. When I return to my job, it will have been 18 months since I went on sick leave.
A year and a half is a long time to be away from work. The workplace has changed, work colleagues have changed, my supervisor has changed, I have changed, and what is important to me in life has changed. Change remains a constant in the fluid world of work and life.
Like other changes I have made in my life to reduce the risk of a cancer recurrence, such as losing weight to lower the fat content in my body, adjusting my diet to a “super healthy” one, striving for 10,000 steps daily, exercising a minimum of five times per week, and learning how to reduce stress in my life, I know that paid work will also undergo change.
I will have to function differently in my job, as I am returning a changed person physically and mentally. My body mechanics do not work the same as they did pre-mastectomy.
I am learning to live with the discomfort, numbness, and limitations of cut muscles, nerves, and tissues. Tissues shortened from surgery and shrunken from radiation, have affected the functioning of my upper body, neck, and shoulder on the dominant side. Simple tasks like sitting at a computer terminal and using a mouse can cause strain and body fatigue more easily than in the past.
I tire much more quickly than I did before cancer. My hands and feet can get very cold and have difficulty warming up even in the heat of summer. My cognition, while improving after memory retraining classes, is not what it was before cancer treatments. Multi-tasking is still difficult, which by necessity, has taught me to slow down, work on tasks one at a time, and be more patient and compassionate with myself and my limitations.
Despite all of this, I am grateful for my life every morning that I awake. The treatment side effects are minor sacrifices to survive a cancer diagnosis.
Cancer has transformed my life in a multitude of ways—mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It has been a journey of blessings and burdens, which I now am starting to see as gifts that have come into my life.
I anticipate that there will be more blessings and burdens when I return to work. Like all other aspects of my life in living with a cancer diagnosis, I will approach my job with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Reflecting on the last 16 months of being a breast cancer patient, I can say that the disease has changed my life in ways I had never imagined. Once one has lived with cancer, fought it, and won, there is little else in life that can scare you. The experience of being face-to-face with death, and living through it, makes rising every morning a sacred gift. As a cancer survivor now in remission, I am grateful for my life.
The experience has also gifted me with boldness that I did not possess pre-cancer. This boldness is evolving to being a patient advocate to speak on behalf of other cancer patients who have no voice in navigating the medical system that treats them.
As a cancer patient, one receives numerous medical pamphlets that advise you to be the lead member of your cancer care team. Oncology doctors and nurses look to their patients for information and clues as to how they are handling their treatment. The saying: “they don’t know what you don’t know unless you tell them,” applies throughout all phases of cancer treatment.
I took ownership of being the team leader for my care, led my medical team (some were assigned to me, some where chosen by me) for the duration of treatment, and continue to take the lead in my post treatment follow-up appointments.
When I was diagnosed, I was doggedly determined to fight this dreadful disease proactively so that I could live. My daily attitude was a defensive one, with a mantra of “cancer, how dare you attack me.” Visually, my companion image was that of a pair of boxing gloves that I imagined wearing to knock down attacking cancer cells. The mantra, the boxing glove image, and the advice from the patient pamphlets to lead my medical team formed my fighting attitude.
However, many other cancer patients do not take this approach, as they do not know how to maneuver through the complex health care system.
They do not know what questions to ask, or what kind of information they need to share with their medical caregivers. Learned medical professionals who are treating them may intimidate them. They may have an intellectual disability. They may be very young or elderly. They may not have a command of English, which is the language used in patient communications. Because of these circumstances, many cancer patients feel they have no voice in raising their concerns with medical staff that care for them.
Cancer has been the most difficult life challenge I have ever had to overcome. Even though I was proactive in managing my disease and its treatment, there were times when I felt I had no voice in how my illness was being handled. The cancer treatment organization was exemplary in my care; emergency wards in local hospitals were not.
Be the Change You Want to See in The World
Inspired by Mahatma Gandhi’s expression: “You must be the change you want to see in the world,” the cancer experience has given me the opportunity to be a voice of change that cancer patients need to further improve their medical care. Herein are the opportunity and the challenge for me--to be the change I want to see in the world, at least in the local medical world of cancer treatment.
Those who know me will likely say that I am an aggressive female—driven, tenacious, stubborn, proactive, perfectionistic, passionate, articulate, and one who loves to conquer a challenge. These qualities are ones that are useful to invoke change in any forum.
As a former news reporter early in my career, possessing an inquiring mind was an important part of the job. When my career evolved to corporate public relations, I honed new skills as a problem solver. These two traits have served me well as a cancer patient in managing my treatment program in concert with an array of medical caregivers. These two traits are now guiding me in raising cancer patient concerns with medical professionals who treat them.
It has been said that cancer patients may not die from the disease, but from the complications that come from their treatment. This truism was part of my world when six times in eight months, I suffered life threatening cancer treatment complications.
There were several visits to hospital emergency wards during my cancer care. These visits were the scariest part of the treatment. Sitting in emergency as an acutely ill patient, I knew that I was being exposed to a plethora of germs all around me from other sick people in emergency. It was terrifying to know that I had virtually no immunity to fight infection due to low white blood counts, and that I was in a high risk, high contamination environment that offered no “exposure” protection for me.
One of the chemotherapy complications (neutropenia-fever, infection, and low white cell counts) resulted in a prolonged stay in emergency of 11 hours. My doctors told me more than once that when I was neutropenic, I should be seen within an hour of attending emergency, and that I should be masked and isolated from the general population. With my BN sister at my side monitoring my symptoms, we sat in emergency hoping and praying that my infection would not turn into sepsis (severe infection that spreads via the bloodstream), which could kill me if it was not treated promptly.
Because of the mishandling of my case in emergency, my cancer social worker encouraged me through the process of lodging a complaint with the cancer care treatment organization’s patient representative. In turn, the complaint was raised with the attended hospital’s patient representative.
I attended meetings with both parties to speak to the severity of the complaint. During one of the meetings, it came as a great surprise to my sister and I, to learn that local hospitals lacked a chemotherapy patient protocol when cancer patients come to emergency with chemotherapy complications. As “the voice” for other cancer patients in raising this concern, I am delighted to say that both medical organizations have spent the last seven months addressing and resolving the issues that arose with my case.
The two organizations have worked to develop an emergency treatment protocol for neutropenic chemotherapy patients at the hospital I attended. Chemo patients will now be assured that they will no longer have to endure the fear of possible sepsis as they wait in that hospital’s emergency ward. In time, it is hoped that the attended hospital’s (pilot) protocol will be refined and shared with other local hospitals, so that there is a consistency in the medical system in how hospitals handle chemotherapy patients when they come to emergency.
Recently, my social worker advised me that the neutropenia protocol at the hospital I attended has been enacted. She noted that one of her other breast cancer patients who had neutropenic complications in the last few weeks, went to the hospital I attended to be seen in emergency. She was triaged quickly, isolated, and seen within 15 minutes of arriving. I was overjoyed to hear this great news. Progress is being made to help other chemo patients in emergency in this one hospital. It is rewarding to know that I could be a positive “voice” of change for other cancer patients.
Both patient representatives and my doctor told me that I was lucky to survive four episodes of neutropenia. Out of my suffering came goodness. That’s grace.
Be the Change Continues
As a result of launching my complaint and having it resolved, I have been asked by the executive of the cancer treatment organization to provide feedback to them about my care with their organization and the healthcare system. The input will be used to make improvements in cancer patient care.
In addition to this, I have been asked to sit as a patient representative on a committee of medical professionals associated with the attended hospital, to provide feedback on improving patient care.
While I was undergoing treatment, there was a parallel in spiritual care neglect from my church’s ministry team. Facing potential death during that time, with no one to speak to on spiritual concerns, I sought console from the spiritual counselor at the cancer treatment organization. We have had many conversations about life and death, and have a good rapport between us. At her request, I will now be assisting with developing information for clergy who are seeking guidance in how to minister to cancer patients.
It appears that patient advocacy is my newest volunteer calling, and is one that I hope will help countless cancer patients and their families. This poem, read at a cancer patient workshop I recently attended, sums up how the disease is now becoming a positive force in my life:
“Until one is committed there is always hesitancy,
The chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness,
Concerning all acts of initiative and creation,
There is one elementary truth,
The ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:
The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.
All sorts of things occur to help that would never otherwise have occurred.
A whole stream of events issues from the decision,
Raising to one’s favour all manner of unforeseen accidents and meetings
And material assistance which no one could have dreamed
Would come their way
Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.”
Author Unknown
My cancer remission travels are taking me in new directions with a renewed sense of purpose and boldness. I will continue to advocate and be the voice of change for other cancer patients with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
My surgical oncologist, “Dr. Wonderful” personally called this afternoon to let me know that the biopsy results from my lumpectomy were in and the lump is benign! “Benign” is such a beautiful word to a cancer patient.
The load off my shoulders is immense. After over three weeks of waiting, worrying, and wondering if cancer returned, I must admit that the relief is indescribable. Tears, woo-hoos, hugs, and high-fives all around… My daughter Marissa says it’s the best birthday present she received today.
I will sleep well tonight.
Thanks to all of you who kept me in your thoughts and prayers. I am truly blessed to have so many people surrounding me with love in this cancer journey, or shall I say “cancer recovery.”
Each day of my life I fight to live cancer-free. I do so with strength, courage, and determination
Just when I was finally starting to feel more like my old pre-cancer self and slowly preparing for returning to work this summer, I had another potential cancer scare.
A couple of weeks ago, I found a small breast lump in the area near my mastectomy incision. I have been out of cancer treatment less than six months.
In an emergency visit with my surgical oncologist this past week, it was determined that this lump needs to come out quickly. We don’t know if this lump is benign or malignant.
Yesterday afternoon, my surgical oncologist performed an emergency lumpectomy to remove the growth. It will then be sent for a biopsy to see if the cancer has returned. Results of the biopsy should be known on June 29.
At the time of my cancer diagnosis, the surgical oncologist forewarned me that the cancer I had is aggressive and likes to return. He stressed that for the rest of my life I have to be vigilant in monitoring my body for any possible recurrence, as my form of breast cancer has a recurrence rate of 50%. Areas of recurrence can include the breast or the area where the breast used to be, the other breast, the chest wall, the lymph nodes, the bones, the lungs or around the lungs, the liver, and the brain.
I know that cancer is a disease that one has very little control over. I am comforted knowing that I am doing all that I can to prevent a cancer recurrence. I have lost over 25 pounds to lower the fat content in my body to reduce estrogen levels, as my cancer is estrogen driven. I work out a minimum of five days a week, never smoked, quit my light social drinking, and changed my diet to be even more healthy than previously. From genetic testing results, I know that my breast cancer is not hereditary.
In my March follow up visit with the radiation oncologist, I was cleared of cancer. No cancer was found in my torso’s MRI scans in April. In May, I had pelvic MRI and bone scans that were normal. May blood tests were cancer free. So if cancer has returned, I know it hasn’t been in my body for very long.
The last few days have been anxious ones waiting again for the lump removal and biopsy results. The fears and emotions are the same as those of last year’s initial diagnosis. Being drawn to staying busy with my time is familiar. I don’t want to think about what may lie ahead as I am now intimately familiar about the potential next steps. I will breathe a huge sigh of relief if this lump turns out to be just an annoying cyst. If it is cancer, then I will work through the next steps with my medical care-giving team as they arise.
As a cancer patient you are taken through your journey by dealing with only what is required of you at any given moment, as thinking too far into the future can be overwhelming. I am working hard at trying to stay focused on the present moment. I do so with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Yesterday was Cancercare Manitoba Foundation’s 20K Challenge for Life Fundraising walk. To say that walking in the event as a cancer survivor was fun cannot aptly describe the victorious experience.
Seven hundred walkers raised over $1,000,000 in support of patient care and services at
Cancercare Manitoba. I am elated to have raised $5,300 for the cause. It was an amazing opportunity to be one of 700 walkers at the event who were supported by over 14,000 donors.
The walk was more than just a chance to raise money for a cause that cured me. The event was an opportunity to reach a post-treatment goal of completing the walk and having some sense of normalcy in my life after months of difficult and life-threatening treatments.
It was pure joy and delight to walk with my daughter, brother, brother-in-law, and four dear girlfriends—one of whom is a breast cancer survivor who walked alongside me throughout my cancer treatments. My personal team of family cheerleaders and son/photographer stood alongside the walk route or hopped on bikes traveling from walk stop to walk stop. Their love and support boosted my spirits as high as the clear blue Manitoba sky.
Thank you to over 90 donors who believed in me throughout this journey, who cheered me on during the down days, and who endorsed me to walk on behalf of other cancer patients who have conquered or continue to fight this dreaded disease.
The cancer experience these past 15 months has been one of fear, anger, loneliness, gratefulness, and joy! Yesterday’s walk with other cancer survivors and hundreds of Manitobans was one of the happiest days in my life of living with cancer.
There are so many happy moments from yesterday’s walk that are imprinted in my memory that I will treasure…
• At the opening breakfast an unknown breast cancer survivor “Leslie” recognized my pink t-shirt, introduced herself as a fellow survivor and invited me to join her and a girlfriend of mine on the “Chemo Savvy” rowing team comprised of other women who have conquered breast cancer. The physicality of the sport does not scare me as I am in great physical shape. But, I have to ponder this invitation as I have a fear of water being a non-swimmer…
• The “Zumba” warm-up to get us limber for the walk. It was energizing and great fun. I will have to find a class to learn more of the dance moves.
• Hugs from my family who sent me off on the trail, then cheered for me and at the finish line.
• At the start of the walk “walking” into one of the race organizers whom I’ve known for over 20 years, who hugged me and kissed both of my cheeks and welled up in tears saying my participation in the walk made her day.
• Walking on the trail and being stopped by a lovely young woman who works for one of the local legal firms who’s personal mission that day was to collect signatures from each cancer survivor that participated in the walk as identified by their orange sashes.
• Catching up on the lives of family members and friends who walked with me for the duration of the event.
• Receiving “high fives” and applause from countless volunteers and fellow Winnipeggers who lined the streets and front yards to cheer on the walkers.
• Hugs from business colleagues whom I have not seen since I have been on sick leave.
• Hugs from volunteers at one check stop who stopped every survivor, congratulated them, and encouraged them to finish the last four kilometers.
• Passing a local fire hall that was beside a check-stop with all of the on-duty fire fighters standing in front of their trucks waving and cheering on the walkers.
• Meeting Dr. Dhaliwal, CEO of Cancercare MB and Sir Michael Richards, a U.K. cancer specialist who was knighted in 2009 for his work to reduce wait times. Sir Michael was at the walk cheering on walkers after being present for a major provincial government announcement on the previous day to reduce wait times for cancer patients in Manitoba.
• Crossing the finish line and ringing one of the many colored bells—each erected to represent the various forms of cancer experienced by Manitobans who are fighting the disease.
• Collecting my “badge of honor” t-shirt at the end of the walk.
• Meeting other walkers who were cancer survivors or currently in treatment that assembled at the end of the walk to lead all of the walkers into the closing ceremonies. The kinship of survivorship was truly special as survivors introduced themselves to the other survivors, shook their hands, and shared in celebration of living and beating cancer.
• The celebratory family barbecue at the end of the day where we enjoyed the beautiful summer evening, fabulous food, and the warmth and love of my family and extended family.
Yesterday was a rewarding and heartwarming day. It was so because of the presence of others in my life that have helped me stay on the cancer fighting trail with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Living life with a purpose, and “showing up” in the lives of people can be a hard concept
to grasp, and an even harder one to live. When I have lived my life with purpose, joy comes and blessings overflow.
I have lived my life with purpose in putting a husband through school then supporting his career, in raising a family, in being a daughter, sister, and auntie, in being a mentor in the workplace, and in volunteering in the community. And while I may have affected others in “showing up,” being in their presence has given me countless rich gifts in my life. In giving to others, I also receive.
In living life with purpose, I have warm memories imprinted in my mind of sitting on the sidelines of swimming pools, basketball courts, and soccer pitches. I’ve witnessed the rewards of attentive parenting when attending parent teacher days. I have proud moments to savor from high school graduations, university convocations, a daughter’s wedding, and son’s and his partner’s purchase of their first home.
Joy comes and blessings overflow as I think of the many hours spent watching our kids learn about teamwork, co-operation, sharing, respect, good sportsmanship, friendship, kindness, and the pure enjoyment of water flowing around them as they learned to swim.
My life has been affected by countless hours spent in the company of many wonderful young people who filled our house with their presence as our children grew up together. Through these young people we have met their parents who became our friends. Together, we now celebrate the adult lives of our children and life’s milestones that they are now achieving. The opportunities to “show up” in the lives of adult children and their mates along with the lives of their childhood friends are treasured moments.
One of my most profound life experiences came through my daughter while she was in the International Baccalaureate program at her high school. In association with one of her world studies classes, she met an orphaned Sudanese nursing student –a “Lost Girl of Sudan,” who was living in Winnipeg without a family and few resources.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2031286.stm
http://www.slate.com/id/2089225
http://www.ivillage.co.uk/women-refugees-the-lost-girls-sudan/80016?field_pages=1
Ang’er was introduced to us and became our “adopted” Sudanese daughter, with whom we all journeyed as she completed her last two years of nursing school here. She still lovingly refers to me as her Canadian “Mum,” when she addresses me in her beautiful Sudanese/British accent.
Ang’er has profoundly affected my life in ways no others have. In living life with purpose by spending time with her, I celebrated her triumph as she recounted stories of loss, sadness, danger, roaming, perseverance, and the will to live. She modeled to me how to live life with purpose. I was a proud “Mum” at her university convocation knowing how far she had come since she was orphaned at the age of five.
Today, Ang’er continues to live her life with purpose, having returned to her home village in Sudan. She is now married, and works as a nurse educator. Her dream was to return home to create an educational non-profit organization to encourage Sudanese girls to get an education, as only about 1% of girls complete formal schooling. She has created the foundation and continues to live life with purpose. I miss her.
Ang’er’s life story taught me about empathy and compassion for people who come to Manitoba to begin their lives again. Having Ang’er in my life gave me a new perspective on how to live life with purpose. Her affect on my life led me to continue volunteering with newcomers in our province.
Several days ago, I was honored as a board member of the Immigrant Centre http://www.icmanitoba.com to welcome members of the Eritrean community who donated a work of art to the centre, as a result of a photography project that empowered women in their community. It was a joyful sensory experience to be a part of an Eritrean coffee ceremony, and a dinner feast that honored these talented newcomer women in our city. My volunteerism at the Centre has been richly rewarded countless times in giving back to the community and in living life with a purpose.
Each day life presents me with an opportunity to live with a purpose. Each day I must keep my eyes open to the opportunities that are given to me to live my life with a purpose. Each day, I will do so with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Cancer rehab with weekly physio appointments, daily strengthening and mobility exercises, and an array of cancer education workshops has made for a busy few weeks since my last blog. I am working diligently to rebuild my body, and to retrain my mind to improve my memory after treatments. It is a slow, arduous, and frustrating process.
In this time, I continue to learn about others and myself. The more I learn, the more I realize that “living life with purpose” is really what life is all about. Even the mundane things such as gym trips, reconditioning exercises, physio treatments, and education workshops all have a purpose in my life—to make me healthy and to prevent a cancer recurrence.
Living life with purpose has taken on new meaning for me in this cancer journey. A couple of weeks ago, a favorite author of mine, Max Lucado, beautifully summed up living a life with purpose by believing in others. His advice came in a daily e-bulletin I received.
He speaks simply on the concept of “showing up” by being present to others. In the bulletin, he challenges his readers by asking: “Do you believe in your kids? Then show up. Show up at their games. Show up at their plays. Show up at their recitals. It may not be possible to make each one, but it’s sure worth the effort…
Do you believe in your friends? Then show up. Show up at their graduations and weddings. Spend time with them. You want to bring out the best in someone? Then show up.”
As I age and gain wisdom, I hope to continue to positively affect the lives of others by “showing up” in the little and big moments of their lives—be they family, friends, or others. These “show up” moments have blessed my life for decades. My hope and prayer is that they will continue to be a part of my life for many more decades.
When I was diagnosed with cancer last spring, people “showed up” in my life, many returning the favor of when I “showed up” in their lives. Family, friends, and colleagues “showed up” with visits, phone calls, emails, cards, food, flowers, gifts, and words of encouragement. Each “show up” gesture cushioned the blow of living with cancer.
Even after treatment ended, these same folks continue to “show up” in my life in marvelous and meaningful ways. Many have “shown up” these past few weeks as generous donors who are supporting me in the Challenge for Life fundraising walk for CancerCare Manitoba on June 11. My original goal was to physically walk the 20 kilometers in the walk, and raise the required $1,000. The money was raised in a day, so I moved the target to $2,500 thinking it would be a lofty goal to attain.
http://www.cancercarefdn.mb.ca/NetCommunity/Page.aspx?pid=708&frsid=2997
As I write this blog, I have raised over $4,700 to help other cancer patients and their families in living with this life-changing disease through programs and services offered to them from Cancercare MB.
It is important for me to “show up” at this walk to support those who are fighting cancer. The physical ability to participate in the walk is confirmation that I have fought cancer and won. I am especially grateful to join my daughter and brother who are “showing up” by walking alongside me in the walk, and who are also raising money for the event. Other family members and friends are “showing up” for me at the walk’s finish line. I am humbled and deeply moved by those in my life that are supporting this project so dear to my heart.
Each day there are moments where I can live life with purpose. I will strive to continue to “show up” in the lives of others and will do so with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Every day I move a little farther away from having undergone active treatment for cancer, to dealing with treating the remnants of cancer complications that have affected my body.
Each phase of treatment brought some side effects to overcome. Some have passed, others still linger.
Daily Dates at the Gym
With physiotherapy treatments and rigorous daily workouts at the gym, I am regaining upper body strength and range of motion of the right side of my torso, shoulder, and arm. My cardio rate is now at 80-90% of its maximum when I use aerobic machines. I can sustain this rate beyond a half hour, which is far better than when I first returned to exercise the day after radiation ended and had difficulty slowly walking laps.
One of my treating physiotherapists says the affects of radiation on body tissue are akin to shrink-wrapping the affected areas. Together, we are working on scar tissue release, massage, and exercises to break down the scarring so that my body can work well. With a double dose of scar tissue from the mastectomy and radiation, and previous limited mobility in my upper back from childhood spinal surgery, the challenge to heal and move effectively is even greater.
One of my medical caregivers has said that the achy and creaky muscles and joints that I am experiencing are not my imagination. They are another side effect of cancer treatments, and the drugs that are used to treat patients. Fortunately, the aches and pains settle once I’ve done my daily exercises. The daily jaunts to the “Y” are helping the achy-ness and my sleep.
Happily, I am also down three clothing sizes to what I wore when I was in chemotherapy last fall. I am possibly the most fit that I have ever been in my adult life.
The Y trips are also helping to condition my body for the 2011 Challenge for Life 20K walk in support of CancerCare MB, on June 11. To see my progress in raising funds for this cause that is close to my heart, click on this link:
http://www.cancercarefdn.mb.ca/NetCommunity/Page.aspx?pid=708&frsid=2997
It has been reported that daily exercise can potentially aid cancer patients with their brain/chemo fog and memory loss. I’m hoping that the 5-6 days per week of exercise will also help my memory.
The cancer physical rehab is a tedious process, and I am a Type A “impatient” patient. It is teaching me that I have to be patient with my body as it continues to heal and recuperate. In this area of my life, I am still a student and cancer is still the teacher.
Other Side Effects
With the active phase of treatment completed, I am becoming more educated about other side effects from members of my medical team. My nurse educator says residues from chemotherapy can remain in a patient’s body from six months to one year post-treatment.
She also says that dealing with overall post treatment complications can be up to two years after the last treatment has ended, which for me is December 2013. In rare cases, recovery can take even longer. Sometimes some of the patient’s functions may not be regained. This is the “wait and see” part of cancer recovery.
A tight, tender, and tingly scalp that was similar to when my hair was falling out with chemo arrived again when my hair started to grow back. It continues to grow and is whiter than it was before chemo. It is now very curly, which has changed my appearance--so much so, that people who have known me pass by and don’t recognize me. I wait with curiosity to see if the curls will go when regular haircuts start.
Chemo treatments have affected my eyesight, and can potentially cause cataracts. There is also a small risk that my body can develop leukemia as a result of having had chemotherapy treatments.
Breast Cancer Survivor Research Study
I am enrolled in a local breast cancer survivor research study that combines physiotherapy, exercise, and nutrition. Studies are showing that daily exercise by breast cancer patients post treatment can reduce the risk of recurrence. It is to be a part of our daily lives in living the “new normal” as cancer patients.
Part of this study involves wearing a pedometer to track my daily steps. The goal is to get the 10 study participants to walk a minimum of 10,000 steps daily, as well as adding some strength training, flexibility exercises, and proper nutrition to help prevent a cancer recurrence.
We are tracking our daily foods, which are being monitored by a registered dietician. A personal trainer takes us through daily exercise routines, while physiotherapy researchers monitor our strength, flexibility, endurance, and cardio capacity.
Brain Fog Classes
To address ongoing issues that come up with my short-term memory loss, I have enrolled in an eight-week “Brain Fog” program to retrain my memory. “Brain fog” is believed to come from an assortment of contributors that cancer patients deal with including the disease itself, chemotherapy, other drugs used to treat cancer, fatigue, chemically induced menopause, and memory loss that comes naturally with aging.
It is interesting to talk to other cancer patients about the condition, as it is a real side effect that those who have not undergone treatment cannot completely understand. The condition can be quite embarrassing when one can’t find words, or remember details while in the middle of a conversation with someone. Loved ones have been very patient with me as I search for words, try to remember details, or retrace my steps to try to remember what I was doing. Also, as a reader, I look forward to being able to read and retain information again, which poses a challenge for me now.
I continue to work through these barriers with a dogged determination to get my body back to a healthy and strong state. The barriers are small challenges compared to surviving cancer treatments and their related complications. I am making daily strides in getting better and do so with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Dear Blog Readers,
As you know, this past year has been fraught with health challenges for me with my breast cancer diagnosis in March 2010. The journey has been one of testing and of triumph. It was a hard fought battle, and I am pleased to say that I am now in remission!
The months that passed felt like I was in a whirlwind race against time in chasing cancer and ridding my body of it to make me well again. The emotional ups and downs were eased for me through Cancercare Manitoba’s Patient and Family Services programs and services, as well as those offered at the Breast Cancer Center of Hope.
In the year that has passed since my diagnosis, mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation, I have used Cancercare Manitoba’s meditation, Pilates, yoga, and art therapy programs to keep my body and mind healthy, and to reduce the stress in living with a cancer diagnosis. As well, the ongoing support of a nurse educator and psychosocial oncology social worker helped me with concerns that arose throughout this journey, especially when I endured various complications with all of my treatments.
The support programs and services for cancer patients and their families come with a price tag. Funds to provide the programs and services come from private donors and special events proceeds, which are raised by the Cancercare Manitoba Foundation. The Foundation also raises money for cancer research including new technologies and medicines like Herceptin and Tamoxifen (which I am using as the last phase of my cancer treatment), and funds the buildings and equipment required to care for cancer patients across Manitoba.
To celebrate being in remission, I am joining a fellow breast cancer survivor and other colleagues in raising funds for the Cancercare Manitoba Foundation via this year’s 20K Challenge for Life on Saturday, June 11.
I invite you to join me in this walk by becoming a Shoot for the Cure team member, or by financially supporting my efforts to help other patients and their families by making a donation for my participation on the team. You can register your donation under my name by clicking on this link:
Thank you for your ongoing support of me in my cancer journey. I hope that you will share in my vision of helping other cancer patients and their families by participating in this fundraising event.
The Challenge for Life inspires me to live each day with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
One year ago today, my life was forever changed with the diagnosis of breast cancer.
On March 11, 2010 the stinging news of having breast cancer hit hard as my surgical oncologist confirmed the diagnosis. At times, I still feel emotionally numb about the cancer journey that took place this past year. March 11 is an anniversary date I would like to forget, but will be one that I will always remember because of the impact cancer has had on my life and the lives of loved ones around me.
This past year tested me mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. In the weeks that have passed since the completion of my radiation, I have come to realize how sick I was last fall with chemo complications. I reflect on this time with even greater gratitude knowing that I survived the treatments and the many complications that arose from them. I can understand why others have said that sometimes cancer patients do not die from the disease, but from treatment complications that come with it. I was very lucky; I could have been one of those patients who died from chemo complications.
With the active treatment behind me, my focus is on getting back my strength and mobility that were affected from the mastectomy. The daily treks to the gym are hard, and it feels like progress is slow. I have good days and I have setbacks in getting my body stronger. I wake up and do the positive self-talk to get to the gym to heal my body and keep it fit to fight cancer.
There are emotional issues still to work through in living with a cancer history. Emotions were put on the backburner to get through my treatments. The emotions sometimes arise unexpectedly through triggers that take me back to when I was fighting cancer. The enormity of getting through this last year has made me realize that there is more healing that needs to be done. It will be an ongoing process.
The episodes of “brain fog” still occur, which mostly involve the loss of short-term memory. There have many “amnesia” moments where I have had no recall of my actions. The loss of memory is difficult to contend with, as I have always had a very sharp memory and take pride in paying attention to details.
Despite these setbacks, I am glad that the worst part of the cancer journey is complete and I am in remission. My recovery is underway and I continue on my journey to wellness with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Today, I had another follow up visit with my surgical oncologist. He made my day. After going through the results of my latest mammogram and recent CT scan he pronounced that I am officially in cancer remission. “You’re now a breast cancer survivor” he smiled.
It has been a monumental day. Tears flowed, and smiles ran broadly across loved ones’ faces with the news. Admittedly, I am still digesting the good news. I wasn’t expecting to find out the remission status until my oncologist’s appointment in May. It is a relief that the nightmarish last 11 months of my life is now over and I am in good health. I think a celebration is needed…
As a breast cancer survivor, I have been asked to participate in a local study being funded by the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation, the cancer treatment organization, and the local university’s School of Medical Rehabilitation. The study involves following a group of breast cancer survivors and monitoring their exercise, physical fitness, and diet.
The researchers involved include an oncologist, physiotherapists, a dietician and a personal trainer. The goal of the study is to see how diet, nutrition and exercise affect breast cancer recovery from treatment, and if the healthy lifestyle can potentially ward off a cancer recurrence.
Yesterday, my physicality and body strength were measured, accompanied by several questionnaires on lifestyle, exercise, rest, diet, and social support. In some of the physical testing I found out that I came out of chemotherapy without any effect on my heart function. My resting heart rate was considerably lower than the adult average and my blood pressure levels were low.
I did reasonably well on some of the strength tests, and miserably on others. The physiotherapist that assessed me recommended some alterations in my daily work-out routine to help build more body strength as I continue working on physical recovery from all of the treatments.
At the end of the session I was issued a pedometer, which I will have to wear daily for the next 40 weeks to monitor my physical activity. I am also required to keep a daily physical activity logbook and food diary for three days each month. In late March, I will return for physical testing to see if there have been any changes in my bodily strength. The food diary and monthly physical strength monitoring will continue for the duration of the study.
In April, several sessions with the dietician, physiotherapist and personal trainer will begin. Each study candidate will be closely monitored on their program progress. It is expected that individualized plans will be created to participants to achieve optimal health as they recover from their cancer treatments.
A new chapter in my life has started to be written today. I will continue my daily fight against cancer with prevention as my new goal. I continue to move forward in this new “normal” life with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
Early next month, it will be one year since my breast cancer diagnosis. It has been a whirlwind year that has forever changed my life and the lives of those around me.
After the surgery, chemo, and radiation, I’m now living the “new normal” life after cancer treatments. Every day, I realize that although I had led a healthy lifestyle pre-cancer, there is a lot of room for improvement.
After meeting with a breast cancer nutritionist and two physiotherapists earlier this week,
I learned that my diet and taking care of my body both needed more work. Life and cancer treatments have not been kind to my body.
The encounters with medical professionals raised two truths for me—I have to take much better care of my body post cancer every day for the rest of my life. Each medical professional in my cancer rehab regime has made me realize what “hell” my body has been through these past 10 months of treatment.
I’ve been told that getting my body back into a state of overall health will take several months of persistent daily action and activity. The medical caregivers reiterated that an hour of exercise is now to be part of my daily “new normal” in living with a breast cancer history.
Living this “new normal” to get healthy has seen me drop a clothing size in a month. Weighing and measuring food intake is a now a mainstay to monitor caloric intake against exercise output. There is still more work to be done.
I have many more pounds to lose to get to a very low fat content in my body in order to block estrogen production, and thus lessen the risk of a breast cancer recurrence. This loss of weight is harder to achieve than in the past—there are the forces of middle age, menopause, and chemo cargo to overcome (cancer treatments added 20 pounds).
The more difficult challenge is maintaining the daily exercise regime of 60 minutes a day to get my body healthy and strong, maintain it, and ward off potential cancer. An hour of daily exercise is my new “physical prescription” for a healthy body. It is now part of my ”new normal” in living with a cancer history.
With this new daily commitment, I have gained a much greater appreciation for the gym “die-hards” that faithfully commit to their daily exercise. The commitment to a healthier me is difficult to uphold—I’ve come close as I’ve been at the gym 5-6 times per week since January 1. I think I’m doing quite well—given that I started this commitment to exercise only two days after my final radiation treatment.
Very slowly my physical body is starting to return to its “new normal.” It will be some time before I can handle a regular daily routine as lived pre-cancer, as my energy levels are not what they were before I got sick. Time will tell if I will return to the old energy levels of the past, or if the “new norm” equates to lower energy levels as a permanent way of life.
As I live this “new normal” life, I have to keep reminding myself to be patient and gentle about my cancer treatment recovery. It wasn’t so long ago that my body lived through hell daily just to survive chemo and its horrid complications. I am lucky and grateful to be alive.
Daily I remind myself that my life has been blessed with a second chance. I continue to keep adjusting to a “new normal” life with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
As I ponder my “second” life after cancer treatment, I’ve come to realize that there are parallels in how the treatment is similar to living in a cocoon.
While in treatment, the medical professionals surround cancer patients in helping them to cope in living with this devastating disease. There is a sense of urgency to fight the cancer that’s taken hold of one’s body. The medical professionals protect you as they inject you with drugs or radiation, watch your symptoms, check your blood chemistry regularly, boost your sagging sprits, and care about your overall well-being.
Then one day, after months of being housed and protected in a “cancer cocoon,” the treatment ends. The waiting is similar to that of a butterfly waiting to emerge from their cocoon--the cancer patient is finally freed to fly away to begin their life again as it once was prior to treatment.
When the frenetic world of cancer treatment stops, patients immediately transition overnight into their “new normal” life in living with a cancer history. This “new normal” life is hard to define, as it is not the same life that one lived prior to the cancer diagnosis.
In the nearly four weeks that have elapsed since my radiation, I’ve added another birthday and a new outlook to my life. I find myself feeling somewhat lost in living this “new normal” life. From the outside, I look well and could fool some people into believing that I never had cancer. There are days with moments where I feel well enough that life seems normal, and then a wave of fatigue sets in the afternoon to remind me that I’m still healing from months of trauma on my body.
There are other reminders that I recently battled the disease. My mind still has lapses of short-term memory loss because of the chemotherapy. My hair has grown back as mostly white and wavy. My eyebrows and eyelashes are starting to fill in. My physical body reminds me daily that it bore the brunt of the cancer battle’s various treatments.
Each day, I am on the rebound to build a healthy body as I work out at the gym and change my diet. The workouts have made me realize that cancer treatment recovery is a slow process, which will take many months, if not years to completely heal. My Type A personality would like the recovery to be faster, even though I know that are months of trauma to heal from, and that I have to be patient as my body rebuilds.
After three weeks, I am starting to reach optimal cardiovascular conditioning that has come from 45 minutes of daily interval training on a treadmill. This part of rebuilding a healthy body was easy. The mastectomy and months of inactivity with chemo and radiation treatments have resulted in a lack of upper body and arm strength, and range of motion. The reconditioning of my upper body is much harder to attain than heart health.
There is the weight that I need to lose that was put on with treatments. The goal is to have low overall body fat as excess fat produces estrogen, which is being blocked in my body by cancer medication.
Months of battling cancer have given me a different outlook on life. Cancer is teaching me to be patient and to slow down—both good things for my overall well-being. I’ve come out of the experience realizing that I am a lot tougher than I thought I was. My perspective on what is important in life has changed. The things that I once valued no longer hold the same importance to me that they once did. My body has changed and is undergoing its own metamorphosis to become leaner, stronger, and better equipped to fight a potential cancer recurrence.
The battle of cancer is a life-long war. I continue the fight in my “new normal” life with Strength, Courage, and Determination.
With my final radiation treatment on December 30, a new era of living with cancer has begun. This new era—cancer treatment recovery and prevention, is one where I am the active participant in my health care. The medical professionals who managed my treatment these past several months have completed their roles to treat cancer. It’s now my turn.
I’m told that being successful in a new endeavor relies on having a concrete goal to strive for. I can’t think of a better goal to achieve than to have a healthy body to help prevent a cancer recurrence.
Somewhere in my readings, I learned that it takes three weeks to develop a new habit. My physiotherapist once told me that it also only takes three weeks to lose fitness levels if one becomes inactive. Cancer treatments placed me in many months of inactivity. So, getting healthy this year will involve a series of cumulative baby steps over the next few months.
I have started to live an even healthier lifestyle than in the past through daily exercise, weight loss, improved diet, and more rest. On January 1, I began daily walks, which are now up to an hour. My lower body muscles are strengthening, and my cardio function is improving. I am far from the fitness level I was at last April prior to my mastectomy, but it will return in a few weeks. By early February, my radiated skin should be sufficiently healed enabling me to take aquafit classes, my preferred exercise for over 20 years.
Medical literature on cancer survival and prevention says that an hour of daily exercise and a cancer diet help to ward off the disease. Women with a breast cancer history are additionally encouraged to lower fat levels in their bodies, as elevated fat levels increase estrogen production, which contributes to breast cancer.
For me, this means losing the weight I put on with cancer treatments and inactivity. Additionally, I will lose more weight to achieve low fat levels in my body. My deadline to lose the weight is the beginning of May, concurrent with the next six-month check-up with my oncologist. The weight loss will be come with a diet that promotes cancer prevention using fresh fruit and vegetables, whole grains, nuts, olive oil, and occasionally fish.
Tomorrow, I will meet with one of my Y aquafit instructors to set up a strengthening and conditioning program to rebuild my body in the gym, and then in the pool one month later. We will create a fitness program that will use weights and machines to develop strength and range of motion in my arms, shoulders, and torso.
Today is Day 10 of the “healthier me” program. Each morning I wake up and am grateful for a second chance of life. I will get healthier in the same way that I endured months of cancer treatment - with Strength, Courage, and Determination.