SAD (seasonal and dejected)

Right about now I should be happy and excited. I’ll soon celebrate my landmark birthday and also go on a warm winter holiday. For some reason all I seem to be able to do is wallow in sadness. All it takes is a memory, a realization, and I’m in a funk. It could be a nasty case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Maybe I’m just seasonal and dejected. It seems like years since I’ve felt the sun on my face. Spending the entire winter indoors doesn’t help, but I admit that winter is my worst time of year. I’m a big lazy-ass who can’t get my butt out of bed, much less get my butt out of the house. Once I get out I feel so much better. That’s the hardest part – getting my ass out of bed/off the couch and out the door.

I forced myself to leave the house last week and went to the mall two days in a row. Mostly to do some walking where I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about slipping on ice, but also to do some “preliminary shopping”. I cruise the mall checking out the stores and the window displays thinking about where I might want to spend my money. Well, technically it’s not money. It’s gift cards from Christmas and I can’t just dive in and use them right away. I have to make the enjoyment last and think seriously about what I might want to use the gift card for. It felt good to get out of the house, grab a big Booster Juice and then hit the mall to walk some laps and window gawk. Of course I couldn’t go into any stores until I finished my massive Pomegranate Punch (one of the high protein Booster Juices on the menu) because food and drinks aren’t allowed inside clothing stores. It was a good thing too because I wouldn’t have done as much walking as I should have if it wasn’t for the Booster Juice in my mitt.

Getting out of the house helped my mood immensely but now I’m back at spending time indoors after a weekend blizzard blanketed us with over 8 inches of heavy snow. I did venture out of the house for a bit today (Monday Jan 25^th) but only because the fridge was almost completely bare and we needed food. The best part of the day was having some fun with my 4 x 4 in the snow. Now that is something that is guaranteed to put a smile on my face!

I guess I’ll just spit out what has been dragging me down. Firstly, I found out yesterday that one of my new breast cancer friends is going through hell right now. I’ve written about Tasha and Ryan before, but if you haven’t read about them before here’s a little bit of info. Ryan was a pilot and he’s been fighting brain cancer for the last 12 and a half years. Tasha has battled breast cancer (more than once) at a very young age. They are married, have a gorgeous little boy and Ryan’s health took a drastic turn around Christmas/New Year’s. There is nothing more they can do for him and it appears as though the cancer may be winning. I went to Ryan’s blog yesterday and as soon as I saw the title my heart sank. He’s moving to a hospice. At this point he’s still doing very well, but things could change quickly and he needs to be in a place that is safe for him. I’m so moved by Ryan’s writing and how he is feeling, mostly because he is so strong and positive. He admits to being “pissed off” but he has accepted what is most likely going to happen and his wisdom amazes me. I can’t even begin to think about how his wife must be feeling. Reading her blog gives me a sense of it and I think the part that went straight to my heart is thinking that after today she won’t have her husband beside her in bed when she wakes up in the morning.  She has to also deal with all these emotions and changes while being a mom and helping her son through this difficult time too. I’m in awe of her strength and my heart goes out to her.

And today, January 25^th marks one year since the passing of my friend Angie Sather. She lost her battle with breast cancer exactly one year ago at the age of only 32. I still can’t believe she’s gone and what I miss the most is being able to pick up the phone and call her when I’m going through a tough time. And boy do I miss that smile. Angie had the most beautiful smile. I miss her so much and words just can’t adequately explain it. She was there for me in a way that no one ever has been before, and I hope I was able to do the same for her. Even though we didn’t know each other for long, or very well for that matter, we were able to be there for each other during the hardest times. We had each other to call when we needed someone to talk to (which, translated, actually means listen to) about the roughest parts emotionally and physically. Metastatic breast cancer takes such a toll on your physical and mental being and to have someone who really gets what you’re going through is invaluable.  I don’t know if she noticed a pattern in when I called her, but I noticed that she often called me on Sunday nights. We’d be on our way back to the city from a weekend of camping and my cell phone would ring. Angie would be on the line and we’d talk, or I would just listen, for as long as she needed me. To have someone who will do that for you means more than almost anything. It didn’t matter when I called her…she was always there for me too. It went both ways with us and we were able to help each other through some pretty tough times. I’ll never stop missing her, and I’m glad she was in my life. Even though it hurts to lose a friend like her I wouldn’t change a thing because I had the gift of knowing her even for just a little while and she helped me so much through some extremely difficult parts of my cancer battle. I’m thankful for the time she was in my life.

Now that I’ve got what’s been eating me up spilled out on the page I can move on to something much better.

On February 7^th, 2010 I will make it to an age I never thought possible when I was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer almost ten years ago. I learned early in my diagnosis that the median survival rate for someone like me with widespread breast cancer is 2.5 years. Initially I thought I’d be happy to make it through 2 and a half years but very quickly I made a personal goal. My goal was to live to be 45 years old. I’ll reach that goal very soon and it’s going to be the best birthday ever. I told my husband I didn’t want a gift this year because making it to 45 was really the only gift I need, along with him being by my side to celebrate it. Normally I’d want him to ignore my request and get me a present, but this time all I really want is to spend that day with him and soak up every single moment of it. That has become even clearer to me knowing what Ryan and Tasha are going through.

It’s a goal no one thought was possible but somehow I’ve been lucky enough to receive. It’s no longer a goal – it’s a gift. A gift of ten more years with my husband, my family, and my friends. What more could anyone ever want?

Fears & Tears….and somehow there’s still hope

Have you ever had one of those days where you just wanted…needed…to cry? I’ve had so many over the last 9+ years of my cancer battle but they occur less and less as time wears on and I become accustomed to the new (and unwanted) life I was thrown into. I admit that today I sat on my living room couch and I cried. Not the kind of cry with silent tears and a lump in your throat, but the full-on sobbing, gasping-for-air-crying that requires gobs of Kleenex and leaves you with swollen red eyes that seem to remain that way for the next several hours. As I started to sob, my cat went from his contented curled up purring ball status to a sprint across the room where he stared at me with a questioning look. I hoped he would come back and try to comfort me but that didn’t happen (he’s a cat – not a dog!). Sometimes he senses I’m unhappy and will come and sit with me but this was not one of those times.

Even though I got relatively good news recently, I’m still internally dealing with my recent scare and the fact that I’m still walking the tight rope of life with cancer and I could be thrown back into treatment or crisis at any moment. The fact that I’ve lost the function of one of my kidneys and that I have a new tumor in the lining around my liver is frequently in the back of my mind.

My day started out with blood work at the cancer centre and a very young girl was in the chair across from me. Now that I’m over 40 I can’t gauge even close to the correct age for those younger than me. I’m going to say she was in her late teens or early 20’s. She was young. Too young. So beautiful. She was comfortable being there and I think that really un-nerved me. I’ve met people who literally have panic attacks if they get close to the cancer centre. This girl was so calm and laid back that I’m guessing she’s a cancer “pro” like I am. That was strike one against my emotional stability. Seeing a beautiful young girl who is also in the “cancer world” when she should be doing things others her age are.

It didn’t even take three strikes to hit me with wracking sobs of sorrow. I was down for the count at strike two. I was watching Oprah today and she had Nate Berkus as a guest and they replayed some of the footage and talked about the loss of his partner Fernando in the Boxing Day Tsunami. Then they showed a little boy and his family who were dealing with the death of a child. Eric and Aaron were twins and they were very close, holding hands in the womb and in the world as newborns. This segment really got across how close these two little boys were to one another.  Eric had a brain tumor that was benign, treated with radiation, and it went away. Then it came back cancerous and took his life. A sweet young boy lost his fight with cancer and his twin brother and family were still trying to deal with their grief. I’m not usually affected this strongly by the story of someone with cancer no matter what their age. But there was something about this story that really got to me. I could feel his pain even though it wasn’t showing on his face. I found myself crying while the adults around him were giving advice about how to deal with his grief, how they dealt with losses of their own, and how the pain would lessen over time.

Then I thought about how it has been one year since my friend Angie lost her battle with breast cancer at the age of 32. Where did the year go? How did we make it through without her? I feel lost without having her to call when I need to talk about “deep cancer issues” and I can’t even begin to imagine how her close friends and family are feeling. Her death left a huge, gaping wound in the hearts of so many people. One year without that smile. One year without that laugh. One year of not being able to pick up the phone and call her. 

I also received sad news via email about someone I’ve never met, but I know his wife. I met Tasha in Toronto at Rethink Breast Cancer’s Breast Fest Film Festival. We were each featured in the film “About Her”. Not only had she battled breast cancer - her husband has been fighting brain cancer for many years. Just in the last few days they found out his brain cancer has worsened. He is losing vision, walking with a cane and there are no further treatments they can give him. AND HE’S HAPPY. He is positive and upbeat (I’m sure he’s not that way all the time), but mostly he’s just grateful to be in this moment. He’s happy to be alive and with his wife and 4 year old son whom he loves so very much. He wants to tell his story and help others, even though he may be dying. He is still creating memories for his son, so he’ll remember his dad. They had beautiful family photos taken and I know they will be treasured by their son, and by Tasha even more. The man she loves with all her heart, and the man who is the father of her child is most likely losing his battle with cancer. The stress of all this must be just piercing a hole in her heart. He’s on a waiting list to get into a hospice and will stay at home as long as he can. Ryan has been battling brain cancer off and on for 12 and a half years and used to be a pilot. The only airplanes he’s able to control now are the toy airplanes he and his son play with. I think he’s doing the right thing, mostly because right now he is making memories for his son. His son will see the photos and the TV news stories when he’s older and he will realize how very much his daddy loved him. He’ll be able to hear his voice, and he’ll be able to see footage of him and his dad playing together. Making memories is so important in the life of a child and today’s technology can bring him to life in mere moments anytime he needs to see his dad.

I can’t even begin to imagine the stress that Ryan’s wife Tasha must be under. She has battled breast cancer, and been by her husband’s side as he’s fought brain cancer. They’ve each been through more than anyone should ever have to endure. I have a heavy feeling pulling me down again tonight, but I am also in awe of the strength they are each showing, and the fact that they are sharing their story once again so they can help others. Tasha and Ryan are two incredible human beings. They’re showing the world how love endures and what really matters in life, even as it may be coming to an end.

And I thought I was having a bad day? Not even close.

Ryan and Tasha each have a blog and have been writing through their cancer battle. The strength Ryan has is shining through. Here’s an excerpt from his most recent blog posting of January 12, 2010:

“The question now is where do we go from here. I had about 5 minutes of sadness, tears, anger and giving up before I hopped back into the left side of the plane to start the flight through the storm. I thought that I had it on cruise control.

I can sit here and explain the anger and sadness of this morning, yet that is a complete waste of energy for both you and I. Being this way would solely allow the cancer to actually believe in itself more confidently. I don’t state this to say that I will beat this ongoing challenge. I may very well be gone in a few months. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last 15 months to think and review the true purpose of my existence (and what may apply to everyone).

We are here to enjoy life in as many ways as possible. We are here to learn (and this does not apply to school). We are here to spread love to others to ensure that they feel it. We are here to accept the reality that is around us, as it is something that we will never control. Most importantly…we are here to know ourselves. After all, that is all that we can take with us when the time comes to go.

Tasha and I were back on the news again today so that we can do what we can to help other people take advantage of the fact that we even exist. To ensure that the small stuff means nothing and what is truly important is LOVE, PEACE and HAPPINESS. This life we live is full of chaos so please do yourself a favour and take the time to slow things down. Otherwise, you won’t even see it until the time comes to go.

I will be continuing with my blog as time goes on to fill you in on any changes. Although I do feel very confident that I will be here for quite a while, I have also accepted that I might not be.

Peace, Love, Happiness”

Read Ryan’s Blog, “Ryan’s Path”: http://ryanwesterman.blogspot.com

Read Tasha’s blog, “The Journey (Part 2)”: http://tashaengel.blogspot.com

The latest news about breast cancer

One of the organizations I have very high regard for is “Living Beyond Breast Cancer”, based out of the United States. They have information for breast cancer patients from every aspect of diagnosis and demographic. Young women, African American women, women who partner with women, metastatic, Hispanic…and the list goes on. You can spend a LOT of time on their website and every minute will be worth it. On January 6th I took part in a teleconference that featured Dr. Eric Winer from Dana Farber Cancer Institute in the U.S. I first saw Dr. Winer speak at the Young Women’s Conference in Dallas in 2009 and was immediately impressed by his knowledge, caring and candor. Dr. Winer attended the San Antonio Breast Cancer Conference which was held in December in San Antonio, Texas. He talked about all the news that came out of the conference during the teleconference last week. It’s well worth taking an hour and 15 minutes out of your day to listen to the podcast. This link will take you directly to the page that features all of LBBC’s podcasts. You never know what you might find that will pertain to your situation and give you knowledge you can take to your next oncologist appointment. Check out the podcast here:

http://www.lbbc.org/transcript-category.asp?transcriptcategory=medical

…and the results are in

FINALLY!!! I have news and the wait is over. The waiting is the worst part in all of this cancer fighting shit. Waiting for test results, waiting to find out what kind of treatment you have to get, waiting to see a doctor. Waiting, waiting, and more damn waiting. The news I have been waiting for arrived tonight in the form of a phone call from my incredible urological surgeon. He’s just a phenomenal doctor and a great communicator. Willing to answer all questions we throw at him, and returning a call I made when I had a question I’d forgotten to ask. He genuinely cares, and I find that is one of the most important qualities to look for in your medical team.  

I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be a cat with 9 lives, very lucky, or extremely blessed. It’s possibly a combination of ALL these things Thank you to those of you who have added me to prayer lists at your church, who have been praying for me on your own, who have been sending me positive vibes, and especially for those who have been kind enough to lend an ear when I needed it. You know who you are…and that also includes all my breast cancer email and personal friends!! YOU ROCK, and most of all you give me strength.

Once again I’ve dodged another bullet by the looks of things and we’ll just hope that “Lefty” (my one remaining kidney) will continue to be strong, and that “Larry” (my liver) will continue to stay cancer free internally. I figure if I keep naming my body parts maybe they’ll have even more strength to keep fighting this cancer

Next month I will be celebrating my monumental 45th birthday - a birthday no one ever thought I’d have but I made it a goal anyway. I think it’s safe to say that barring any freak accidents, I WILL live to the age of 45 because I’m about one month away from that goal now I wish I could make a really big smiley face because that’s the way I’m feeling right now. What a difference a day or two - and a phone call - can make in the life of someone with cancer. For now I’ll keep fighting and hope the next test brings good news.  

Thanks again for your emails of support. Even though none of you have the balls to post a comment on here!

Still waiting…

I’m still waiting for results from the urine sample taken during my cystoscopy December 16th. Did it show cancer cells or was it inconclusive? Either way there are going to be some major decisions I’ll have to make. Surgery? Chemo? What to do about the kidney not draining…and the questions go on & on. I managed to hold myself back from doing any internet research until after New Year’s Eve because that’s my “Scroogiest” time of the year. I was TRYING so hard to be in a good mood, but I know I was snippy. We had friends over for supper and just hung out visiting and watching the Canada/USA game from the World Junior Hockey Championships here in Saskatoon. (YAY Canada! What a game!!) I found myself snapping at my husband a few times. If you ask him it was likely more than a few. I feel so bad for the way I react and how it makes him feel. I wish I could just keep my big yap SHUT and try to be calm, serene and happy-go-lucky. Well, that’s not really “me” when I’m anxious and tense. I get wound up and who knows what’s gonna come flying out of my mouth. My husband deserves a medal for putting up with me for the last 9 years of cancer. I’m sure the other 11 weren’t always a cake-walk either Living with a woman isn’t an easy thing. But hey…living with a man isn’t easy either!

We had a lovely champagne toast at midnight, a great visit, and lots of laughs with our friends but when they were counting down to midnight with the folks on TV I was not counting along. I was sitting on the couch with my eyes glazed over. Or perhaps they were burning a look of evil and hatred toward the television. I can’t recall for sure, but I know I wasn’t happy. I dragged my ass off the couch, pasted on a smile and toasted with them, as it would be exceptionally rude not to…and I wanted my champagne! I don’t drink anymore because alcohol is extremely hard on the liver and my liver has had cancer in it so I want to keep it as healthy as possible, BUT I did have some lovely Brut champagne that wasn’t too bubbly or too dry, and tasted mighty fine with some really dark chocolate We had some different cheeses I’d picked up at the Bulk Cheese Warehouse, nibbled on cookies and chocolates all night and just relaxed.  After the stress I’ve been going through I felt I deserved a bit of bubbly. Mind you, the non-alcoholic President’s Choice mocktail Mojito’s were very tasty earlier in the evening!

Earlier in the day my husband asked how I felt about asking some of our neighbor friends over later on in the evening. He was SO wonderful about how he phrased it, and didn’t show any disappointment when I told him I just wanted to keep it to the four of us. I didn’t want to have to “entertain” and the couple we’d invited over know my current situation and that New Year’s isn’t my best time. I’m comfortable in telling them how I feel and they completely understand when I’m a bear with all that’s going on right now. (perhaps they have bear spray on hand in case I get out of control?!)

Tonight I couldn’t hold back any longer. I spent most of the night on-line researching kidney “stuff” and of course found myself crying a bit and getting bent out of shape and pissed off. This is just what I did NOT want to do! My plan has been to try and remain calm until we know for SURE what is going on. However, I read some things that upset me and now I have to find my way back to serenity. Might be time for another valium….

My husband came upstairs and I told him what I’d discovered and why I was so upset. God, please bless this man I married. He’s the cat’s pyjama’s (ie: awesome).  He stayed calm and reminded me there was no reason to get bent out of shape until we know for SURE what’s going on. After talking it out, and now writing it out, I feel better. There’s still a twinge of anxiety there - gnawing away at my heart - but I’m going to grab my new Marian Keyes novel and transport myself into someone else’s life, and then hopefully drift off into a night of deep sleep. I will meditate beforehand that “I will NOT have any cancer dreams tonight” and hope it works. And I’ll also hope that maybe tomorrow I’ll be in a better frame of mind and actually get my lard-ass off the couch and do something, anything other than feeling sorry for myself and being afraid of things that are still unknown.