2,000 breast cancer fighters - in ONE place

It’s been just over a month since I travelled to Peterborough, Ontario for the International Dragon Boat Festival. It was a race event (and so much more!) for dragon boat teams of breast cancer survivors. This is the third festival/competition that’s been held like this and I’ve been extremely lucky to have been at two of them. The first was held in 2005 to celebrate ten years of dragon boating by breast cancer survivors - which started with Abreast in a Boat in Vancouver, Canada. Dr. Don Mackenzie started a study with breast cancer patients to see if physical activity actually caused harm to those who had gone through mastectomy. It was widely believed at the time that activity would increase the chances of, or aggravate existing Lymphadema, which is a swelling of the arm that can be extremely uncomfortable. Dr. Don’s study with the girls from Abreast in a Boat proved that physical activity HELPS and does not harm. It was an honor to listen to his inspiring speech at the Peterborough event. You would have thought a “ROCK GOD” walked into the room when he was introduced! This man has changed the lives of thousands and thousands of women all over the world. That was plain to see at the Peterborough gala dinner when he spoke about his dreams for the future of dragon boating for those affected by other diseases, and passing on our love of the sport.

There were a total of about 72 teams of breast cancer survivors. That means EVERY SINGLE person in the boat has battled breast cancer. Even the steersperson and drummer. Some events let a non-breast cancer person do these tasks, and I strongly feel that the entire boat should be filled with those who’ve fought breast cancer. Our team from Saskatoon (www.bustingwithenergy.com) is entirely made up of breast cancer survivors and fighers. We have members who are fresh out of chemo and others, who like me, are metastatic. I’m an Honorary Member and proud of it. Even though I’m not able to be in the boat I FEEL like I’m in it when our girls are paddling their hearts out.  Soon they’ll be racing here on our home turf and I hope to be able to go cheer them on. For now here are some photographic memories from Peterborough, 2010 as seen through my camera lens and the lens of my friend Mike.

Kathleen, Lisa & Diane

Busting with Energy from Saskatoon!

Lisa with a massive pink garbage truck

Lisa, Norma & Ann at the World's Tallest Free-standing Lock

The hosts with the MOST! Survivor's Abreast from Peterborough

Dragons Abreast from Brisbane, Australia taking part in Friday's Pink Parade

The FUN and uplifting Pink Parade through downtown Peterborough

One of 2 teams from Italy.

Busting with Energy in the Pink Parade

Lisa with Busting with Energy on parade route

The one & only Dr. Don Mackenzie - God of breast cancer dragonboating.

Party time at Saturday's Gala Evening. First time 2,000 people were served a sit-down meal in Peterborough!

Anthracycline Extravasation - oh CRAP I’m an “incident report”

Cycle 2, day 14 - I don’t get to sleep until after 4am the morning of my golf tournament and then wake up around 10am with a skull pounding headache that won’t allow me to go back to sleep. I manage to haul myself out of bed to eat something, take some Tylenol and heat up a hot pack for my neck.  Only one extra strength Tylenol remains in the bottle and I hope it will work in combination with the hot pack. I somehow get back into bed after microwaving my hot pack and manage to sleep a bit until noon. The hot pack has helped but I still have a low grade headache for the rest of the day.

As I’m eating breakfast the film crew returns. Once again they film me putting on my makeup and several times I think about how weird it is that I feel comfortable with two strange guys on either side of me with their camera lens’ literally inches away from each side of my face. I don’t know where I found room to hold up my mirror to see what I was doing because they were so close to me. We do some more one-on-one interview questions and then all head out to The Willows where I’ll be surprising people at the banquet. I have it all worked out with the event coordinator that she notify me when almost everyone is through the buffet line. I figure they can eat while I talk J The film crew is waiting for me when I pull up and I feel like Ed McMahon ready to give away the Publisher’s Clearing House prize. It’s like a high-stakes secret stake-out. We don’t want anyone to know I’m there, so the doors to the banquet room are closed until the event coordinator bursts in to get everyone’s attention. She tells them they are being too loud and security is coming. Next thing they know, I’m walking through the door surrounded by the film crew and it’s like something out of a crazy movie. The entire crowd goes ballistic when they see me and I feel good knowing they are happy I’m there. The standing ovation seems to go on forever so I make motions for them to sit, as I know the film crew has a flight to catch and it’s embarrassing standing there with all that crazy applause. I didn’t do any of the work and don’t feel I deserve the accolades. The crew sticks around for a few minutes to film before rushing off to the airport with all their gear and I continue on with my prepared speech. At the end I tell everyone I don’t want it to look like I’m being rude, but my body can’t fight anything off right now so I’m literally walking out the door and will not be talking to anyone. I’m just going home. No hugs, no handshakes, nothing. The end of my speech brings on another standing ovation and I walk out of the building to go home and rest.

I go home, put on my new bear pj’s and wait for Husband to come home. He shows up with my brother and niece who both volunteered to take the team photos (a job I usually do) awhile later and they all regale me fun stories from the entire day. It feels like I was actually there because they are able to bring it all to life, and I recognize many of the people they are talking about. I download the photos that were taken and we all look at them together as more stories come up. It sounds like it was another crazy FUN day and I’m sad that I missed it. On the other hand I know I would never forgive myself if I got sick, and I also know there’s no way I could have been there all day because I just don’t feel strong enough. It’s hard to admit that to yourself, but I’m old enough and have been through enough with this cancer crap that I should know what really is best for me.

Day 16 - I also have a short weekend getaway coming up and I want to be able to take the trip I paid for many months ago. Our dragon boat team of breast cancer survivors (Busting with Energy) was leaving for Peterborough, Ontario for a major breast cancer dragon boat festival of over 73 teams from across the world. I believe there were 15 teams from Australia alone that attended, as well as 2 teams from Italy, many from throughout the U.S. and tons of teams from Canada where breast cancer survivor dragon boating began with a study by Dr. Don Mackenzie.

I purchased some hospital procedure masks and also still have a 95% effective one from the H1N1 scare last year that hasn’t been used and I’m bound and determined to be on that plane. Luckily I’m staying with my old radio pal Mike Melnik and his wife Donna and I’ll be able to get all the rest I need. An added benefit is that he lives only 2 blocks from the race site! I am on a flight separate from the team and arrive long before they do. I only managed to make it to one race on Saturday afternoon, but I took in the parade of teams, the gala supper Saturday night (which was the biggest sit-down meal EVER in Peterborough, serving over 2,000 people), and wandered through the shopping area with Mike  -stopping every couple of minutes to visit with someone he knows. I sleep in late every morning at his place and feel at home enough to help myself to whatever food I can find. An added bonus is getting to see his daughter Jess who was just a wee little thing when I last saw her. She used to call me when I was on the air at CKIT in Regina to request a song. I would, of course, tape her and play her voice on the radio. We’ve been each other’s “fans” ever since and to see her as a confident young woman with a career and so much talent is overwhelming. Where does the time go?! As a child-free person (notice I didn’t call myself child LESS) I’m now finding that I feel exceptionally old because everyone’s children are growing up way too fast and I’m wondering where the time went.

Day 19 - I come home from Peterborough with what feels like a perma-grin on my face and from within. The getaway to laugh and visit with a friend was just what I needed to get through the next chemo I was facing later that week. We spent hours bringing up names from the past, telling radio stories, and several times over the course of the weekend we laugh about the drive from the Toronto airport to Peterborough. Mike brought his 2 seater Pontiac Solstice and I had a fairly large suitcase, a carry-on and another back-pack type bag. I discover in the loading lane out front of Pearson that he wasn’t joking when he said his trunk only holds two 12 packs of beer. Our only option is to put my suitcase on top of me for the 1.5 hour drive to Peterborough down the 401! Mike somehow manages to lift the suitcase in on top of my lap, balancing the bottom section on the console. He then retrieves one of my bags from the trunk and I pull out my little travel pillow. I nudge it under my right knee and it takes care of the weight of the suitcase on my lap. Mike is barely able to shift into 5^th gear because of the suitcase on the console. I’ve got my arms on top of the suitcase,  and when he removes it I realize I likely would have been really uncomfortable without the suitcase on my lap as there are no arm rests!

Mike wasn't lying when he said all that fits in his trunk are two 12 packs of beer!

 Needless to say, the return trip to Toronto’s Pearson International Airport is made with Donna’s much bigger car and I don’t have to snuggle up to my luggage for the trip. By 9:30pm I’m home in Saskatoon and Husband picks me up in his old classic car for a smooth ride home. I’m jet-lagged and on the wrong time zone but giddy with happiness from such a great weekend with friends. The stress relief that laughter brings is priceless. Thank you Mike, Donna and Jess!

Day 20 – chemo is days away but I’m feeling strong. The damn rain has finally stopped and we still haven’t planted the vegetable garden or any flowers in the yard. Husband takes the night off and rotor tills the garden (on June 15^th!) and then we plant it right away. We also dig out some perennials that didn’t survive the winter, and get some petunias planted. Everything else goes back in the greenhouse because more stupid rain is coming. My rain gauge showed 7/10^th’s of an inch one day and then 5/10^th’s the next. I’ve officially had enough and want SUN.

We see the oncologist and he tells us that I will likely only be getting four cycles of chemo instead of the original 6 we discussed. I’m SO ecstatic, but my happiness is soon squashed like a bug.

Cycle three, day 1 -I have an I.V. infusion at the hospital and then my chemo at the cancer centre later. Everything is running smoothly until the actual chemotherapy starts to run. The Epirubicin has been running for less than 2 minutes and I can feel that something is not right. My first instinct is to yell “Nurse!” as loudly as I can (which is very loud by the way) but I grab the call button instead and am relieved when a nurse is in the room in moments. We have newer I.V. machines at the Cancer Centre now. I know how to stop the old ones, but all I’ve learned on these new ones is the very valuable button called “Silence” to stop the I.V. from beeping me to insanity. The nurse has 20 years of experience and immediately sees we have a problem when I show her my arm and she shuts down the machine. It’s obvious that the chemotherapy is somehow leaking outside of my port and into the surrounding tissue. I’m scared shitless because I know how serious this is. I’ve done extensive reading on Epirubicin and how toxic it is if it gets outside of your vein. Oddly enough, my friend Julia who accompanied me to the Metastatic Breast Cancer Conference in Philadelphia in May had picked up some information on exactly what has just happened to me. The technical/medical name for it is Anthracycline Extravasation and it is NOT pretty. It’s downright scary.

Meanwhile back at the cancer centre, the skin around my port is red, hot, burning, throbbing, itching, and in general scaring the crap out of me but I remain calm. I become slightly agitated and worried when another nurse wants to complete the Epirubicin infusion by using a vein in my other arm. My veins don’t like needles anymore and I’m worried the needle will poke through the vein and we’ll have the same problem on the right hand side. I do not move my arm one iota during the remainder of the infusion. I’m that scared of it happening in my right arm too. Husband is with me and has no idea how serious this is. I don’t tell him what I know, but I can tell the nurse knows that I KNOW. She is extremely upset and apologizing but there is NO REASON for her to apologize because it’s no one’s fault. There’s no way anyone could have known that the time my port decides to fail is during the most toxic medication possible. It’s just the kind of luck I have. Shitty luck. My arm is rubbed with a sardine-smelling toxic chemical called DMSO (Dimethyl Sulfoxide) which causes it to burn and hurt even more, and is then wrapped in an ice pack which must remain on for an hour or two. My oncologist and nurse come in to check out the situation at my request and I leave after business hours with a large ice bag wrapped around my arm and proceed to drive home with my left arm elevated.

The presence of the chemotherapy in my left bicep is likely going to cause a chemical burn from the inside out.  Worst case scenario is there may be blistering, my skin and tissue may go necrotic (turn black and die) and I may have to go through numerous surgeries to repair my arm. These surgeries could include skin grafting, reconstruction, debridement (like any other burn patient) and severe disfigurement. It scares the crap out of me but I know there is nothing I can do to change what has already happened. All I can do is hope and pray that it will not be a severe case and that my body can handle it. When my white cells and infection-fighting neutrophils will be at their lowest is when I may be in some very real danger of infection in my arm because of the toxic burn from the chemo. I inform my parents and some other family members via email and carry on with my new ritual that will encompass the next week.

Every four hours I must put DMSO on the area that’s affected, along with the surrounding area. After it dries/absorbs I must then ice it for 15 minutes. I have to do this every four hours for the next SEVEN days. I’m on a steroid induced high but the thought of waking up every four hours to put this chemical on my arm, wait for it to dry, and then ice it for 15 minutes makes me exhausted just thinking about it.

Day 5 - I finally show my husband a brochure I got at the Metastatic Breast Cancer Conference in Philadelphia on exactly what has happened to me. I never considered I would have to face this kind of complication. He realizes how serious it is after reading the information and looking at the horrible pictures. I take the paper and put it away in the spare room so I don’t have to see it anymore. I’m having enough anxiety about it and certainly don’t need to see it several times a day.

Cycle 3, Day 6 – after several days of my “arm ritual” I am indeed exhausted. But, I’m usually exhausted at this point in my chemo cycle simply from a lack of sleep. This time around it seems like all the side effects I’ve experienced through the first two cycles are happening sooner and are harsher. One to two days earlier than normal every inch of my skin hurts. Before I even eat my supper I have a severe case of heartburn that has me actually considering that it may be a heart attack instead of heartburn. 2 Tums and a Gravol later it’s gone and I’m able to eat the home made Turkey soup my mom sent.

It’s a beautiful sunny day but I don’t haul my butt out of bed until almost 3pm. Waking up at midnight, 4 and 8am, and again at noon has me utterly exhausted. I have three alarms set for each four hour block of time to ensure I won’t sleep through the time I should be applying the DMSO and icing my arm. Every four hours I get up, apply the solution, set my alarm to wake me up in 20-30 minutes when it will be dry and then set my alarm again to go off in 15 minutes so I’m awake to take the ice off my arm. Luckily I have three ice bags I can rotate but two of them are rock hard and don’t bend around my arm like the other one. It takes over 6 hours for one to defrost to the point that it’s pliable and I can use it. Since I’m up anyway I take the time to eat a bit of cereal and drink juice so I won’t be weak when I finally decide to get out of bed once and for all.

I attempt to do some work in the yard late in the afternoon. I finally set foot into a greenhouse on June 15^th to purchase some flowers and now have to find the energy (and Husband/friends) to get them in the ground. I start by attempting to dig out some grass and dill in an area of the garden the rotor tiller couldn’t get at and find that it hurts my arm just to try and scratch away at the dirt with my three-pronged garden rake. I loosen it as best as I can by taking it really slow and then proceed to pull stuff out by hand but before long my body is telling me to sit down and rest and I must abandon my good intentions. I decide that since I can’t do any actual “work” I should sit down with my garden notebook and write down where I want everything planted. If I get Husband out to plant he works much faster than I do and everything must be planned out or we both get too stressed. I tend to putter around and think too much, plus my menopausal mind gets easily distracted. I can’t keep up with his speed, so I decide that if I plan it out there will be less stress and more will get accomplished in a short amount of time.

I brought my own plants out of the greenhouse yesterday to start getting used to sunshine. Rather late to be hardening them off and getting them adapted to the sun’s rays but it’s been a crappy year. I’m surprised and pleased to see some lettuce seeds already sprouting in the garden and they’ve been in the soil for less than a week! After more rain late last week I had to push several bean seeds back into the soil…they came floating back up to the surface with the rain. I hope for SOME kind of garden crop this summer but it’s extremely late in the season so I’m not sure what to expect.

I feel a huge sense of urgency to get my store-bought and home grown flowers into the ground and planters. It’s like time is against me because of what’s happened with my arm. I am constantly thinking that I could be hospitalized soon and therefore I really should try and tie up loose ends at home. That includes getting the flowers planted. I’ve had offers from friends and may now have to take them up on it. Just bending over causes pain for my affected arm so I’m leery of trying to do it myself. I don’t want to take any chances and make the situation worse than it may already be. I don’t even want to think about what should be done INSIDE the house but am thankful we recently hired a young woman to do some house cleaning for us every few weeks so at least I don’t have to worry about that. I keep thinking I should pack a hospital bag and update my medical history and medication information in the event I need to go to emergency. I wonder if I’m being paranoid or just a good planner. Perhaps a little of both. Tonight will be the 6^th day of sleeping on my right side all night with my left arm elevated. I don’t dare sleep on my left side. I figure if I’m not even allowed to shower, then I likely shouldn’t expose my arm to the sun or lay on that side. I know that elevating it will help so I try to get my arm as high and stretched flat as possible each night and consider myself extremely lucky that I’m able to sleep…even if it’s just 4 hours at a time.

My arm - the first night

BALD & being followed by a film crew

It seems like only yesterday I wrote a long-winded posting for my blog, but so much has happened in the last 10-15 days I’m not sure I can pack it all into one writing. You’d be here for days J

I just had my third cycle of Epirubicin this past week and it seems the side effects are happening quicker than they did the last 2 rounds. Everything seems to be happening a day sooner than it did before. I’m just starting to come down from my latest steroid “high” which once again included 4 days of being awake until 5 or 6am. Last night I got less than 8 hours sleep and it was interrupted several times (more on that inconvenience later) so tonight I will likely CRASH big-time and won’t come out of the fog until after 2pm tomorrow. Of course the weather is supposed to be sunny and warm on the days when this carcass is going to want to sleep all day. Crappity, crap, crap L. Grrrrrrr!

Ok, let’s go back in time to June 5^th where I last left off. I woke up that morning and all signs of the sore throat and cold I’d been experiencing were suddenly GONE….just like that.  Within a couple of days my nose is running non-stop again. I sometimes wonder if I have allergies, but I know the Epirubicin dries out your system so my eyes and nose are likely just extremely dry and that’s why I’m constantly dabbing my eyes and blowing my nose with three ply tissues. It’s so bad I’ve started a system: clean Kleenex in the right pocket of hoody; dirty used Kleenex in the left. Sometimes my pants pockets have the same system. That’s how much Kleenex I’m going through. I don’t feel sick, but my eyes and nose are running constantly.

I spend some time on the desktop computer and scan some old photos from the early years of the Lisa Rendall Golf Classic. I had the bright idea to do a slide show of photos from the last nine years for this year’s 10^th Annual LRGC and now the event is mere days away and I’m just getting the pictures organized. A procrastinator under pressure, I scan til the wee hours of the morning because I know my time will be tight for the next few days. A film crew is flying in from Toronto to follow me around for a couple of days and I need to get some things done before they arrive. Two of the crew will be staying at our place so I change sheets, get the spare rooms ready, and buy some junk food so we have some munchies to serve if we’re visiting late at night.

Sunday – yard day. The weather is nice and Husband and I spend several hours in the yard working at eradicating our disgusting weed situation. Its dandelions, thistles, chickweed, and tons of baby elm and maple trees that I curse more than the actual weeds. The vegetable garden is still too wet to rotor till and there’s a heavy crop of dill covering the majority of the garden. Now I’m kicking myself that I wandered through the garden like a dill fairy scattering the seeds in the fall as I cleaned up.

Monday – I go out in public for the first time since shaving my head. I feel good, we need groceries, and I figure I better get myself out of the house at some point or I may never be seen in public again. I go to Co-op, keep my head down, ignore everyone around me and get groceries. I have no idea if anyone stared at me because I didn’t look around. I wore my silky sleep scarf which has now become like a permanent part of my head. I didn’t think I’d like wearing a scarf on my head but I’m actually enjoying it and am not upset with the way it looks. I spend the night on the couch watching The Bachelorette (cringing with every stupid giggle from that girl who can’t seem to STOP giggling) and writing my speech for the golf tournament on Wednesday. My secret plan is to show up at the banquet, surprise everyone and do my speech in person. They all think I’ll be joining the banquet via Skype but I plan on invading the place and being there in person – only long enough to say a few words and immediately leave. The film crew arrives in town tonight and will be here tomorrow morning so I need to get the speech done beforehand or I won’t be able to concentrate.

Tuesday – I’m impressed that I can actually wake up and be dressed by 10am for the arrival of the film crew at 11. I even manage to wolf down my cereal before they get here and that’s a major feat because of the fibre content it has! Luckily the crew is running a bit late and arrives around noon and I’m thrown for a loop when I see two vehicles pull up in front and FOUR people get out. I never asked, but assumed there would only be two. One interviewer and one camera man because that’s all there was last year for the documentary. Then I recall there was a sound man in Calgary and I understand why there are three, but I’m not sure about the four of them until they’re all in the house and I realize I will be followed by 2 cameras, 1 sound guy with a big long fuzzy boom microphone, and the director. The equipment they haul in fills the entry way, the living room and the kitchen and I’m wondering if I got myself in over my head. All doubts fall away when I meet the two crew members I’ve never met before. Everyone is down to earth and we’re all comfortable with each other so this should be just fine.  Next thing I know I have a small microphone hiding inside the front of my shirt, two cameras literally on either side of my face and I’m putting on my makeup. I’m answering questions from the director and trying to concentrate on applying eyeliner while answering. I hope my menopausal brain doesn’t act up too much over the next two days. There’s nothing worse than losing your train of thought while being FILMED.

I have a podiatrist appointment and then later an appointment with my hair stylist to trim the bangs of my wigs, plus I need to buy a hat that doesn’t hurt the bristly hairs on my head. My hair literally hurts. I don’t let anyone rub the stubble because it is driving me crazy. I bought a new hat in Philadelphia at the Metastatic Breast Cancer Conference and had to sew it up in the back to make it smaller since losing my hair. Unfortunately I can’t wear it because it hurts my head, so I need a new hat that’s soft inside. I make plans for part of today’s outing with the film crew to be the search for a soft hat to cover my bald head so I can feel more confident in public.

I now understand just a portion of all the work that goes into making a film, whether it’s a short documentary or a longer film (which this one will be). The drive over to my podiatrist’s office consisted of a camera man and sound guy in my backseat, the director in front asking questions, me trying to drive and the backseat cameraman trying to get shots of me from crazy angles (plus the other camera man following us in another vehicle). The treatment room is small, so only the sound guy and one camera man come in with me to meet with my expert foot doc. While Doc digs under my big toe nails that are still affected from Taxotere treatments 10 years ago,  I almost burst out laughing when one of the fuzzy microphones attached to a camera is rubbing on the side of his face and he doesn’t even flinch. Turns out he’s a better actor than I am J. Next stop with the crew is the hair salon where I’m getting my wigs trimmed. On this portion of the trip, the crazy camera man sits in the front (no seatbelt) and practically wedges his butt between the front of the seat and the dash to film me as I’m driving. The other vehicle is still following us and I feel for a moment like this must be what it’s like when they’re filming The Amazing Race.

Brad - sound expert with all his gear

Broadway Avenue is our ultimate destination and we must have made quite a sight piling out of the vehicles with all that camera equipment, the big fuzzy boom mic and all of the crew following me. By the time I get into the salon, my stylist has already been set up with a mic pack like mine and one camera man and the sound guy are waiting for me to arrive. They film as I put on each wig and she trims them to suit me. The only time I’m challenged to feel natural is when the camera is blocking my view of the mirror and I have to try and pretend I’m looking at myself and the wig to see if I like the length of the bangs. My first instinct is to lean sideways to see past the camera to the mirror but I hold back and play along, hoping it looks real when I’m looking at the camera pretending I’m looking in a mirror. This is much harder than I thought it would be. How do you check out your hair when you can’t even see yourself in the lens of the camera that’s just a couple feet from your face?!

Next stop is “Hats & That” on Broadway to see if I can find a hat that’s comfortable. Luckily the store owner is ok with the film crew coming in with me and I get busy trying on hats and having a good laugh. The first hat I try on turns out to be “the one” but I’m reluctant to spend $34 on a small hat. I then realize that it’s worth it if I feel comfortable and even slightly attractive and whip out my debit card. The hat is now known as my 38 dollar hat (tax!) and I’ve got so many compliments on it that it’s definitely been worth it.

Our final stop on Broadway is Schmatta. I’ve heard they make T-shirts there and I want a special shirt that proclaims my theme “FYC” that I can wear to the golf tournament. One of the girls working in the store tells me her mom is in the hospital with metastatic breast cancer. It amazes me that I can walk into a store, talk to a young woman and discover that her mom is in a similar situation to me – in the same city. It doesn’t take me long to grab a black t-shirt, choose a font, and next thing I know my new FYC shirt is hot off the presses and ready for my surprise drop-in to the Lisa Rendall Golf Classic the next day.

We take a break from filming and shopping by stopping for lunch at the Broadway Cafe (Mmm Milkshake!) and then make our way over to 8^th Street and Jammeez so I can get a new pair of pyjamas. I’m travelling to Peterborough, Ontario to cheer on our dragon boat team Busting with Energy and am staying with my friend’s Mike and Donna. I figure I should have pj’s to shuffle around in while staying there, and while the film crew is staying at my place. Several of us get in the pj mood because they have such neat stuff there. One of the camera guys is particularly taken with the men’s one piece footed pj’s but the feet clearly aren’t made for real men with size 13 feet so he’s S.O.L. I’m happy though because I found some cute Hatley pj’s with bears on them.

Rob - one of the two camera men

It’s only my second day in public with my bald head, but I’m already used to it and feeling confident. I had no reason to think people were staring at me because I’m hairless, most likely they were staring at my “entourage”! We arrive back at home where my husband has arrived with pizza for supper, so we sit down with a couple bottles of vino and some cold beers to chow down and have a visit. After supper we do a sit-down interview in the kitchen and I cry as I answer some of the questions. It’s been a long day and my emotions easily come to the surface.

The day ends for me around 3:30am (technically the next day!) because I sit down at the computer at 10:30pm to put together the photo slide show for the golf tournament which starts a little over 6 hours after I finish burning the DVD. Luckily I can sleep til noon because I’d already made the difficult decision not to attend my golf tournament, and I don’t have to worry about the film crew because they’re going to film some of the action for the morning while I get some much needed sleep. The tournament has been going strong for nine years and I’m not able to be there for the tenth. I’m bummed, but know I have to do what’s best for my health and am able to get by knowing everyone will be surprised to see me show up at the banquet when they’re least expecting it. I’d rather be there for a few minutes to thank everyone and say a few words than miss it entirely – especially after ten years.

Chemo cycle 2: I think I stink

Since my crash from the steroid high after chemo I’ve been feeling on the crappy side for the entire week. It doesn’t help that now I feel like I’m coming down with a cold and have a sore throat.  I haven’t left the house to go out in public since my head was shaved over a week ago. My confidence isn’t that high yet, and I’m not feeling strong enough to leave the comforts of home. Here’s a review of my week so far…

Day 4: face is red, along with my nose…just like it was last cycle. I’m SO tired today because I was awake until after 6am because of the Dexamethasone. The crash starts later that night when I fall asleep on the couch. Husband made a really nice pot of home made chicken noodle soup. I have two bowls for supper, which is unlike me but very encouraging that I’m able to eat that much. As I crawl into bed I think I may never wake up because I’m so sleep deprived.

Day 5: I sleep til 2 in the afternoon. YES! Finally some sleep. Chicken noodle soup hits the spot for supper for the second day. As I get ready for bed I notice my skin hurts as I put moisturizer on my face and head. I also notice little bristly hairs on my hands. Now the little prickly hairs left on my head are falling out.

Day 6: Since having my head shaved a few days ago I’m having problems sleeping at night, mostly because I can’t get my head and neck in a comfortable position. Normally I would have a cushion of hair between me and the pillow, and because of the neck surgery I’ve gone through, my head and neck have to be positioned “just right” or I can’t get comfortable.  My bristly head is sticking to the pillow and the sheets, but once I eventually fall asleep I’m out like a rock. I sleep in late again and when I wake up I discover my right nostril really hurts. The chemo can really affect your nose by drying it out so I grab a little mirror and have a peek up my nasal passages. I had put mineral oil in my nostrils before bed last night to keep them moist, but now I’ve developed something that looks like zits inside my right nostril. I resist the urge to poke at them and put some polysporin in my nose. I spend the rest of the day laying around feeling like crap. In the evening I do some updating on my website. As I lay on the couch with the laptop I swear I can smell one of those packaged rice mixes cooking. I ask Husband if the house smells like something. He can’t smell anything, and when I describe the smell he says it definitely does NOT smell like that. The stench is driving me crazy. I don’t like those packaged rice mixes yet I’m sure I’m smelling one cooking. I feel like I’m losing my mind but I know how the nose can play tricks on a person going through chemo.  I’m still working on the website adding sponsor logos for the golf tournament around 11pm but lose an entire page when my wireless connection is lost. I shut the computer down in disgust and go to bed.

Day 7: I sleep until 1pm and my stomach feels like it’s grinding away at something for the majority of the day. Luckily the Ranitidine is helping and I’m not having any pain or heartburn. Today I also think I stink. You read that right! I keep smelling something and think it’s me. It’s like a chemical smell and I’m positive it’s oozing from my every pore. I shower mid-afternoon and when Shauna Foster is over for a visit I ask her if I stink. She tells me she can’t smell anything. Husband says he can’t smell anything either. Shauna brings over a bag full of books and I have a mop pail full. We each wind up with a pile of “girly” books we’ve never read and are both excited to tear into our new reading material. My nose is continuing to play tricks on me with smell, and now both nostrils have sores in them. The polysporin is now in both nostrils and they aren’t as sore and itchy as they were.  I notice today that my heart rate is getting high with almost any kind of activity. I first notice when I’m outside trying to pull down a Black Bird nest with my little three-pronged garden rake. Just reaching up with the rake and pulling down the nest gets my heart rate pumping so fast I need to stand there for awhile to catch my breath. I give up on finding nest #2 and go back inside.

Husband and I spend some time weeding in the backyard after supper. It’s so muddy the weeds come out easily but it’s frustrating because the yard is like a disaster zone and a few hours of weeding after supper isn’t enough to get the entire yard done. It’s never been this bad this late in the season. The vegetable garden is so wet it hasn’t even been rotortilled yet, therefore it’s not even close to being ready to plant. There is, however, a very large crop of Dill growing like a carpet across the majority of the garden.

As I’m brushing my teeth before bed I notice that some hair is missing on my bristly head and it appears to be in some kind of pattern. I show Husband and within moments he tells me it looks like a swastika. My eyes bulge as I screech at him and run to the mirror….and yes, I see a swastika pattern on the side of my head. Oh. My. God. There are other patterns of missing hair on the other side of my head but it just looks like worms have been making tunnels. How can I possibly go out in public bald now? I’ve got a flipping swastika pattern on my head!

Day 8: A sleepless night last night. I still can’t get my head positioned right to keep my neck comfortable. I have some new symptoms today including some redness and soreness on my port, and the left side of my throat is sore. I’m more concerned about my throat than anything else. Luckily the white bumps in my nose have decreased in numbers. I do a 9am radio interview with a station in Peterborough, Ontario. I used to work with Mike Melnik way back in the early 80’s at CKIT in Regina (CKCK’s FM station). He’s now doing the morning show on KRUZ FM in Peterborough, which is hosting an international breast cancer survivor dragon boat festival the weekend of June 11/12/13. I talk with Mike & his co-host Catherine for about 20 minutes and mean it when I say I will do my best to be at the festival, yet I assure him I will stay home if I know I’m not strong enough to attend. I’ve had my plane ticket for so long and don’t want cancer to take this trip away from me but I will not take a chance and jeopardize my health if I know I’m not feeling 100%. 

My sense of smell is still playing tricks with me. With the windows open tonight to cool off the house I suddenly smell fumes from spray paint and close the windows. Later, when I’m outside I smell the paint fumes again. I ask Husband if he can smell it and he replies “All I can smell is the lilacs”. When I smell them up close they smell like lilacs, but further away I’m positive I can smell spray paint. I’m saddened that one of my favorite flowers is smelling like toxic fumes because of the chemotherapy.

Day 9: Wake up and my sore throat is not as bad as I thought it might be, but it’s still there along with a slight headache. I email my nurse so she’s informed in case things get worse. My cousin Robyn and her husband Rob come over for a visit in the afternoon bringing Lime Chicken and their vacation pictures. Supper is now taken care of and I’m transported away to a tropical paradise with their photos.

I employ a new tactic tonight in my quest to get comfortable for sleep. I find a silky, slippery scarf and tie it around my head. I then lay a hand towel, folded in half, on top of the pillow to help keep my neck in a good position. The combination is perfect! I can move my head without it catching on the pillowcase and sheets and my neck finally seems to be in a position it can handle.

Day 10: last night’s silky scarf & towel duo did the trick! I sleep like a rock and hope this is the CURE to my neck problems.  I spend the day proofing some last minute things for the golf tournament and sending out other emails. I also start packing for Peterborough. A girl can always hope for the best right? My throat is still sore today and my voice is hoarse. I check in with my nurse via email to update her and let her know I don’t have a fever. I also record a greeting for all the crazy chicks who will be out at the Red Bras Rock fundraiser. It’s a martini party that is raising money for the C95 Radio Marathon. 120 women, a few male bartenders and T-bone playing the tunes. It started as a Liberal Party fundraiser but has turned into a fundraiser just for breast cancer research. Even though it’s no longer for the Liberal Party, MP Martha Hall Findlay still flies out this year to join in the fun. It has all the makings of being one of our largest fundraisers for the C95 Radio Marathon this year and it’s because of one woman: Marie Therese Verma. She organizes the entire event and even hosts it in her own home! You will not find a more dedicated woman on the planet. She is an angel on earth and I’m grateful to have someone like her on my side as we try to kick cancer’s ass.  Because I’m in chemo I’m unable to attend this year, but I plan on being there next year. Fingers crossed.

Battle of the Pill Organizers

Finally - SLEEP!! After 2 or 3 days of being awake til 5 or 6 in the morning I had a good, deep sleep last night. I knew “the crash” was coming. You can’t stay on the steroid high forever. Might come in handy for getting house and yardwork done, but definitely not for sleeping. I fell asleep on the couch last night, cat curled up beside me, laptop on my lap, on a website I can’t even recall. At least I wasn’t blogging - I’ve fallen asleep doing that before and find it amusing that every time it happens and I wake up I have endless lines of the letter K. Something like this: kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. Well, it’s exactly like that but it goes on forever and ever. I wonder why THAT finger is the one that pushes on the keyboard when I fall asleep? It’s always the letter K. Weird. But I never claimed to be normal.

Once I got myself into bed I fell to sleep quickly and managed to put in a 12 hour night. I’m guessing the same thing will happen again tonight because I’m so sleep deprived. My body isn’t one that can do without sleep. For the last ten years of this battle I sleep 10-12 hours if possible. Sleep is something we all need desperately for our physical and mental health and I never deny myself. Many days there’s just no reason to get out of bed unless I have to go to the bathroom. Why get out of bed if the cat is stretched out beside you purring while you give him a tummy-rub? I’d rather lay there nice and warm under my flannel sheet listening to the radio and petting the cat. Many times I drift back to sleep and wake an hour (or three) later. Anyone who knows me well knows you can’t call Lisa before noon and expect her to be awake Guess I’m making up for the times I used to get up at 3:15 to go do the morning show.

Today I’m feeling noticeably less energetic and have been suffering with some heartburn. I think I got my system off track by sleeping til 2pm because I didn’t have supper until after 7. I should have eaten much earlier and taken my Ranitidine because that likely would have shut down any heartburn right then and there. I learned my lesson and the extra-strength Tums are getting gobbled up today.

One wacky bright spot in my day came from my friend Trina who read my last blog posting and had a good laugh at my comments about my massive new pill reminder. She has one too and sent me a photo. I immediately grabbed my new “organizer”, took a picture and fired it off to her with a comment that I couldn’t even SEE hers. She sent a message back that I already knew the answer to: I WON. Mine is bigger….and the “Sunday section” isn’t even in it! Now you can see why I feel like an 80 year old…

Got a bigger one?

Chemo: Cycle 2 starts & hair falls

Day 1 - chemo day is today. I wake up in a fowl mood because I was laying in bed most of the night worrying about the chemo. I’m putting a lot of faith in the Ranitidine prescription that my oncologist gave me for my stomach upset. What if it doesn’t work? I hate the way my stomach felt the first 10-11 days.

Husband picks me up to take me for chemo and I start to cry as soon as I get in the truck. Being the wonderful man he is, he asks what’s wrong. I sound like a little kid when I tell him “I don’t want to get chemo anymore!” and start to snot & tear up. It’s hard for him to know what to say even though we’ve been through this before and we’ve had cancer in our life for almost ten years. I tell him I feel like I need a good cry and I want to get it all out before I get to the cancer centre. So, I cry. I cry for the first several minutes of the drive and at some point it stops. I hope it’s out of my system and won’t “lose it” at the cancer centre. It’s unusual for me to feel sad about going there because it’s like my second home. I know so many employees and they are all exceptional health care professionals who REALLY care about their patients.

Because I need bloodwork done to make sure my counts are good enough to proceed, I send husband back to work until the results are in. He has faith that Phlebotomy will be on-time and he’ll be back ten minutes before my chemo is scheduled to start. I think he’s wasting his time. That NEVER happens. Turns out he’s right. I’m called into a room ten minutes before my scheduled time and call to let him know. He’s already on his way because his plan worked.

I had some pain last time at my port, and after my infusion at the hospital last week, some of the Heparin flush oozed out and went interstitial (into the skin/tissue) so I had red slightly inflamed skin around the port for a day or two. I’ve had my port for almost ten years and they say the life-span of them is 1,000 pokes. How many times have I been poked in my cancer journey??! I realize that question can be taken the wrong way so let me clarify that I wonder how many times my port has been poked Through trial and error with the experience the chemo nurses have, we’ve discovered that even though my port takes a half inch needle, a three quarter inch needle seems to work better every once in awhile. I ask the nurse to put in a 3/4 and she gets it on the first poke. We’re off and running on saline.

Minutes later, my pre-med anti-nausea drugs show up in their little mini bag. There are two of them mixed together: Ondansetron and Dexamethasone. Twelve minutes later, the nausea meds are done and we’re hooking up for the 7 minute Epirubicin infusion. I stare at the I.V. tubing as the red fluid goes into me. I’m then set on the rinse cycle (I like to use washing machine lingo for my I.V.’s) to get some more saline flushed through me. I’m eventually set free and we head straight to the drug store to pick up even more prescriptions before returning home and before husband goes back to work.

I go to Walmart in the evening to stock up on Ensure and the Walmart brand that is similar and MUCH cheaper. Ensure is on sale for 9 bucks this week at Walmart, but their own brand is only 8. I get two of each because there are only 2 of their name brand left.  I use the High Protein version because I don’t eat much meat and because I’m not eating as much peanut butter as I usually do. I take the opportunity to get a few groceries while I’m there and after a talk I had with one of the pharmacists I buy a massive pill reminder. I have a 7 day one, but found with all the extra pills I need to take for nausea at home after chemo I was forgetting my OTHER pills. I shell out ten bucks for a reminder that has 4 segments per day. Now I feel even more like an 80 year old because of the size of my pill reminder but hope it will help. At least each day pops out so I don’t have to carry the entire thing with me!

I’m on a steroid-induced high all night because of the anti-nausea drugs (they are steroids) and fire off emails left and right all night to Glenda, the coordinator of my golf tournament. I also send out emails to every police officer or person who may KNOW a police officer because our Million Dollar Hole-in-One Contest requires we have a police officer as a witness. I go straight to a City Police Inspector, who I met when we were both honoured at the Mayor’s Prayer Breakfast last year. She immediately responds even though she’s on holidays and says she will find me a volunteer. I cancel all my other requests with even more emails.

By 2 in the morning my eyes are extremely tired but the body is still going strong because of the Dexamethasone.  As I’m getting ready for sleepy-time I discover my hair is really coming out now. I go to bed and read, hoping to fall asleep but am awake til after 5am.

Day 2 - I’m awake at 9am to take my first round of pills. Some have to be taken 30 minutes before I eat so I set my alarm, take the pills and wake up to another alarm 30 minutes later to eat half a banana while laying in bed, take more pills after eating and then roll over to attempt to go back to sleep. We’ve arranged in advance that I’m pre-taping an interview about my health and the upcoming golf tournament on C95 this morning. Rob, Shauna and Rambling Dave call at 9:07, we chat for a few minutes to make sure I’m awake and then start recording. We mostly talk about my cancer progressing and I plug the fact that we need more golfers and want to sell out the tournament.  The interview will likely run within the next day or two.  Normally it’s easy for me to go right back to sleep, but because of the D.D. (damn Dexa) I lay there awake listening to John Gormley Live and finally just give up and get out of bed at 11:15. Time for more pills and cereal half an hour later.

I once again spend a lot of time replying to emails, including proofs for our volunteer shirts for the LRGC and other little details and then need to run out for a quick 1 item grocery trip (how could I have forgotten MILK??!!). On the way home I decide I deserve a chocolate milk shake so I hit the McD’s drive thru and get 2 Shrek Donkey glasses with my shake. They are going fast and are the last ones. I kick myself that I didn’t collect the others when I see the glasses. They are nice heavy glasses. I recall the ones we had years ago at mom and dad’s with Hamburgler and the other McDonald’s “mascots” we had when I was a kid.

Husband comes home from work and we build a Dinner Rush meal of South Asian Beef & Onions together. So much easier when there’s two of us to make supper. I have no ambition.

My hair is REALLY coming out today and my head is itchy. As I type even more emails I scratch my head and each time pull out a handful of hair. I decide to create some more “hair art” and start saving it in a pile on a Kleenex beside me. Might sound gross, but I was trying to gauge exactly how much hair I was losing and if I should be buzzing it off. I take a picture of my hair on the Kleenex so I can show you (you can thank me later) how much is coming out now. Toonses the Driving Cat is trying to smell the hair while I’m taking pictures and he makes it difficult for me to get a clear shot, but I finally get it. Here’s how much hair I pulled out of my head in just a couple hours this afternoon:

Aren't I creative? Or just crazy?

Husband and I watch some TV on the PVR in the evening and I notice on a bathroom break that my nose is red just like it was last cycle at this time. That means tomorrow my face should be red too. I’m starting to see a pattern. The pattern IS broken in one respect though. The Ranitidine REALLY WORKS on my stomach. No pain, no yikky burps. Sweet relief!

Day 3 - Once again because of the Dexamethasone I am awake until after 5am, but today I’m able to go back to sleep after my half banana breakfast at 10am. I eventually force myself out of bed after the cat walks over top of me numerous times and scratches at the covers. If HE thinks I should get my arse out of bed, then I guess I better do it.  It is 1:30pm and I take my 2 pills and pace for half an hour before I can have anything to eat. I’m starving so I drink some strawberry-kiwi fruit juice (tastes like booze!!) to hold me over until I can shovel my cereal and fresh blueberries in with record speed. I watch Oprah and cry as I watch reunions between birth parents and their children who were given up for adoption. I watched all the episodes of Find My Family this year and found these stories to be very similar and just as emotional. As I watch I’m firing out even more emails. My hands are starting to hurt. I’ve been typing way too much on this Dexa high.

Many people heard my interview on C95 this morning. Several Hole Sponsorships come in because of it, and we get more entries. As of this writing we had room for FIVE more teams…that’s only 20 more people and we’ll be sold out! Thank you - everyone. I can’t possibly reply to all the emails so forgive me if I don’t reply to you. You can rest assured I DO read every single one and appreciate them so much.

An email comes in from Tasha in Calgary. We were in the TellHer2 documentary that Rethink Breast Cancer commissioned last year (www.tellher2.com, click on “The Documentary” and then click on my face).  Her husband Ryan passed away 6 weeks ago after battling brain cancer. He was diagnosed 12 years ago when he was a professional pilot. The cancer stole his passion of flying from him but he never lost his passion for life and living in the moment. He blogged about it and was a shining example of how to live your life - even when you’re dying. Before his passing Ryan wrote a book called “Stop, Drop and Smile!”.  The email announces that the book is ready for order, the website is up and running. I click on the direct link and see the most beautiful website EVER. Inspirational quotes beside gorgeous pictures of perfection of Tasha, Ryan and their now 5 year old son Talyn. Even though I’ve seen the photos before, the quotes beside them just add that special touch. I find myself near tears as they flash across the screen. Ryan had the most beautiful big smile. You couldn’t help but love him even if you never met him. I order two books - one for me and one for the Cancer Centre’s Patient Resource Centre that I will donate. I know that “Stop, Drop and Smile!” will give me inspiration and the kick in the pants I will need on “down” days. I then read the last 2 blog postings by Tasha and start to sob. I was feeling so sorry for myself and after reading what she is going through I feel like a useless knob. I have no reason to be so sad about my own situation. The questions and things her little boy is saying break my heart and make me bawl even more. I can’t even begin to imagine how she can answer some of his difficult questions or explain why it’s not possible to bring daddy back home. http://tashaengel.blogspot.com/ Read for yourself and you won’t feel so bad about your own life, yet you’ll be inspired by the courage and passion for life that Ryan had and how Tasha is doing the best she can to cope with this new, unwanted life change. I write her an email while I’m crying and later hope it made sense. That D.D. is turning me into an email monster.

I make a quick trip with the truck to run an errand and decide yet again that I must have another McD’s chocolate milk shake. This could be the start of Dexamethasone-induced cravings. The first time I was in chemo in 2000, I had a craving for Taco Time EVERY single time I had chemo. I NEEDED a soft taco and mexi-fries. Every week after chemo we’d head to Taco Time. Then, with no explanation the craving was for a Big Mac. Needless to say I did not lose any weight on chemo! It’s one of my biggest worries this time around. I lost 40 pounds in 2007 and I want to keep it off. Might sound trivial when I’m fighting stage 4 breast cancer but it’s ONE thing I hope I can have some control over. I tell myself as I sit in the drive through line that their milkshakes aren’t really that bad for you. I order a medium instead of a large (which is what I had yesterday) and decide to order the husband a McFlurry. Then the Filet-o-Fish calls my name so I order it too. I take my 2 pre-meal pills while in the line to pay. I know I can nuke it in the microwave at home in half an hour and it will be just like it’s fresh. I get home and the smell of the Filet-o-Fish is calling my name. I pick weeds in the driveway and then kill some time in the house before warming it up in the microwave. 45 seconds is way too long, it’s too hot and I must wait another ten minutes before I can eat it. GRRRRR!!! :(  Husband comes home with goodies (great minds think alike) of chocolate bars for after supper. It’s a feastival! Milkshake, McFlurry and chocolate bars (Caramilk for me). D.D. is at it again!! I realize I must do what I did last time and go straight to the fresh fruit salad I’ve slaved over instead of this kind of stuff or I’ll be a very unhappy girl at the end of chemo. I save the Caramilk and will enjoy it later. I have SOME willpower left…I think.

I announce to husband at 8:30pm that he is shaving my head tonight. He wonders if I’m sure and I tell him that I can’t take it anymore. Every time I’m in the washroom to brush my teeth, tons of hair is left laying on the counter and in the sink. The hood of my hoodie is full, the back of my clean fleece is matted with my own hair and it won’t even shake off. Here’s the “before” picture:

I'm doing my best to look happy...

I want it shaved off before I can change my mind so I dig out a sheet as he sets up the clippers and chair in the kitchen. Suddenly our roles are reversed. I’ve buzzed his head a couple of times and now it’s his turn to have a go at me. I ask him not to get even with me over the time I cut his ear with the scissors while trimming his ear hairs. He is gentle and finds the cutting easier once he’s created a “path” to follow. He does half my head and then takes some pictures.

Half of it's gone & holes in forehead are starting to show

 We video tape the entire head shaving, and he takes pictures at different stages along the way. He REALLY amuses himself by giving me a “Friar Tuck” look when he starts working on the other side of my head and stops to take more pictures while giggling the entire time. I can’t help but smile. I’m not crying, and he is doing the best he can to make the situation easier. It works. I wonder aloud why I’m not crying. I likely would if I was shaving it off myself but he has taken that pain away from me by offering to free me from my hair even though I don’t want to lose it. I take pictures of the hair on the floor and in the garbage can and say goodbye to it. Husband is smart because he immmediately packs up the garbage and takes it out so I won’t be reminded when going to put something in the kitchen garbage. How can you not love someone like that? I love him more than ever for doing a simple thing like that.

I shake off the sheet outside, then head straight for the shower to get rid of all the little bits of hair. My head feels like velcro as I try to shampoo the bristles of hair that are left. I decide I’ve grown my armpit hair long enough and shave my pits. I’m amazed at how I look like the hairy-pitted girls from Survivor after less than a month of not shaving. I instinctively reach up to squeeze the water out of my hair and when my hands get halfway there I remember I have no hair to wring out. How long will I do this simply out of habit?!

After shower I get into my sleeping clothes and take some photos of my shaved head to send to my parents and my brother’s family. I want my nieces to see me without hair before they see me in person so they aren’t shocked. I look like my brother with my head shaved and they think it’s funny. Only problem is that I have three round holes/dents in my forehead from where the halo was. I was in a halo for three months when I was first diagnosed because my neck collapsed from the cancer eating away my C5 vertebra, hence the holes in my forehead. Now you can even see the holes behind my ears, and a bump that I suspect is a bony met on my skull.

3 holes in forehead & it appears I'm missing an ear

I upload all the photos to my computer and see why husband was entertained by the Friar Tuck. I watch the video and wonder why it is that I was not upset?! WTF? It doesn’t make sense. I thought maybe it would hit me when I looked in the mirror but I was ok. I still am. I still have my eyebrows and eyelashes (for now) so tomorrow I may put on some makeup and see how I look. Maybe I’ll look better than I thought possible. Next on the agenda is to get in to see my hair dresser to get the bangs of my wigs trimmed.

I decide to keep going with my computer crazy couple of days and upload some of the head shaving photos to my Facebook page. For some reason none of them will upload. I take it as an omen that they should be posted on my blog first and start to write this. It’s 5:04am and I’m still on a Dexa high as I finish this. You get the first look at me with no hair….and no makeup. Now I REALLY look like I have cancer…

Chemo Cycle 1: days 14 - 20

Day 14 -  Up at 8am (which is like torture for me) and off to dentist. I tell him all my medical B.S. that’s happened in the last few months and we both can’t help but laugh. Everything is happening at once…what a time to break a tooth too! He is able to grind the sharp edges til they are smoother as it’s just some enamel that’s come off. We will fix in a better manner once I’m free and clear to have dental work, which likely isn’t until after all the chemo is done. He gives me a prescription for Zovirax for my cold sore,  another prescription in case I get really bad mouth sores and have problems eating. I also make off with 2 super soft toothbrushes and purchase a special rinse (Chlorhexadine) to help in my mouth care regime. Dr. Raj saves the day! I go fill the Zovirax right away and slather it on in the car.

I talk to my nurse in the afternoon and learn that my counts are LOW. My white cells are 1.3 and my neutrophils are 0.2. Neutrophils help fight off infection. At this level I can not fight anything off. That explains the cold sore.

Had mom’s homemade turkey soup for supper which seems odd on a 28 degree Celsius day, but it’s mom’s homemade turkey soup and I can’t resist. Once again I feel normal today except for the cold sore and the chunk of missing tooth!

Got an email this afternoon that has me in shock. My friend Olga Stefaniuk passed away yesterday. She was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 42 in the mid 80’s and has been fighting a recurrence for the last 3 or 4 years. She is THE sweetest woman on the face of the planet and I am sad that she’s gone. I’m in shock too because I didn’t know she was that ill. I’d just got an email from her less than 2 weeks ago. I spend the rest of the day remembering how many friends I’ve lost to this disease. Many who were doing just fine and then die within a year. I hope I’m not the next one, but am scared I might be - although the rational side of me knows that my condition is not as bad as what I’ve seen friends go through. I’ve got a long way to go yet before I have to worry about being part of the list that this year already has three women I knew on it: Chandra Dattani, Mary Gilliland and now Olga Stefaniuk.

We BBQ for supper and I boil corn on the cob. Because I’m trying to take care of my teeth and gums I cut the corn off the cob. Not quite as satisfying, but still tastes good. Have had a low grade headache for the majority of the day. I wonder if this means my hair will be falling out soon or if I just need to eat more.  I spend evening on the couch and cancel a visit with a friend.

Day 15 - Another day of appointments. Today I see two oncologists and then go to the hospital for an infusion to keep my bones strong (have been doing this every 4 weeks for the last 9+ years). The only parking spot I can find is the furthest from the Cancer Centre as I could possibly be, and I find my heart rate is extremely high during the walk.  I stop, grab a railing and stand there until I can catch my breath. Another side effect of the chemo…can cause a rapid heartbeat. I have been feeling it happen a few times but there is no rhyme or reason. I meet with both oncologists and discover that the tumor in the liver has grown in the last couple of months. I’m not upset or surprised, as I assumed that something would have grown or something new may have shown up in that time frame. I know we’re doing the right thing by blasting me with chemo. I must kill this beast that is invading my body.

My neck is sore and I still have a headache, plus I’m in desperate need of fiber or SOMETHING to help regulate “the system”.  For some reason my gums are sore and hurt when I eat anything or brush my teeth. I’m hoping I burned them on the turkey soup yesterday and that it’s not the start of mouth sores.

I go to the hospital after the cancer centre and get hooked up to an I.V. machine for a one hour infusion. The nurses are hovering, making sure I’m ok and covering me with blankets. I have no reading material so I resort to a March edition of People that’s in their magazine rack and read about Jake and Vienna from the Bachelor. It’s then I realize I have something to look forward to! The Bachelorette starts on Monday!!! Watching reality TV helps me escape my own life and distracts me from it as well.

I think my hair is starting to come out. In the shower this morning there was more hair than usual in my hands after shampooing. Since I got my hair cut short there hasn’t been ANY hair in my hands after shampooing so I assume this is the start of it. I stick it all to the wall of the shower to see if it really is a lot of hair. Doesn’t look too bad, but am sure husband won’t appreciate my “wall art” in the shower J Several times throughout the day I try and see if hair will come out if I pull on it. I’m not overly successful . Maybe it’s not time yet. Here’s my “shower hair art”:

My shower "hair art" which includes my motto for this battle. F.Y.C!

Day 16 - I am wakened this morning by Film-maker Phyllis at 10am. She informs me they have funding for a FULL LENGTH FEATURE FILM and want to come out and interview me sometime in the next month or so. This is the same film maker who interviewed me (in HD!) last summer for the documentary “About Her” that was released in November. (www.tellher2.com, then click on “The Documentary” to see the trailer). Getting out of bed is easy after news like this. I have something to look forward to! However, my mood slides a bit when I realize I have another damn medical appointment today. This time for a MUGA scan to test my heart. The Epirubicin can cause problems with the heart so we need a baseline of my heart function. The Herceptin I’ve been on can cause cardiac toxicity but I’ve never had problems with it in all this time. Because of the “heart issues” the chemo can cause, I am not getting the Herceptin while I’m on chemo. It would be way too hard on the heart. I worry about being off Herceptin for about four months, but I know this is the safest way to go through treatment.

By this time I am getting very sick of medical appointments, as I have one or more every day this week except Friday. My counts are low and I should be staying home, but I cannot miss these tests and appointments.  I go to nuclear medicine, have some blood taken which is then somehow made radioactive and then injected back into me in 30 minutes. I’m then immediately taken into a room and get to lie quietly while the machine scans my heart for ten minutes. I’m light-headed when I get up.  A chocolate milk is in order to perk me up (it’s cheaper than fruit juice at the hospital), and I sit down with it and my book and just relax for awhile before going back to the car. The hospital has made a LOT of money off me this week just in parking charges. Thank God the machines take Visa. I am down to a few quarters and there’s none in the bank account.

Rain started pounding down after supper so I curled up to read the mail. Was excited to see a card for me from my friend Sharon, so I save it for last. Am in shock when I see she has arranged for some Dinner Rush meals (and delivery!) for us, and am SO thankful. Many days I don’t eat much but the husband must still be fed. This will really help us a lot. If you have a friend going through a health challenge or a loss in the family this may be something you would like to do to help. It is GREATLY APPRECIATED, trust me. I can’t express how grateful we are for this.

My gums are sore again today and hurt when I eat or brush my teeth. My head also feels “funny”. It feels like I’ve had a ponytail in too tight or too long, but that isn’t possible because my hair is so short now. I recall other women telling me they had this feeling before losing their hair. I now know it’s definitely coming. Will the pillow be covered in gobs of hair in the morning?

I feel sad because I had to make the hard decision not to attend tonight’s prayers or tomorrow’s funeral for my friend Olga. Because my counts are so low I know I must stay away from large crowds of people. I don’t want to risk anything else. The cold sore, headache and “funny feeling” head are more than enough to contend with.

Day 17 - 19 - Finally I am able to sleep in. Got up at 1:30 and after eating breakfast I start to get the last of the camping stuff ready to go in the trailer. Still have a slight headache, and noticed a lot more hair coming out in the shower. When I brush it after, I literally feel hair falling onto my bare shoulders. I can even see it on my back in the mirror. I immediately put the clippers in with the camping stuff in the event I need to shave my head this weekend while camping.  Maybe the birds can use it in their nests.

It’s taking me awhile to eat food today. My gums are definitely sore, but they are not red so I’m hoping it’s not too serious.

I put the cat in the trailer before he catches on that we’re going somewhere and may be taking him. Last year when we’d start piling things up at the top of the stairs he would manage to go and hide. He loves travelling and camping once you get him OUT to the trailer. Cat immediately goes under the bed sheets and I wonder who will lose more hair this weekend – me or him?

Trip to campground straight into high winds sucks the gas quickly but we make it before dark and set up. The entire weekend is spent inside, like caged animals with the trailer shaking from the high winds. Rain pounds on the roof for the majority of Friday night and Saturday. Sunday morning at 4:30am I’m awake worrying the trailer may blow over or a tree may come through the roof or window. Are we having fun yet??! We “invite ourselves” to mom and dad’s for supper on Sunday and even get so bold as to order roast beef, potatoes and gravy and marshmallow salad. Mom goes the extra distance and bakes a peach pie for dessert. Everything is nice and soft, easy for me to eat and is the most food I’ve eaten in one sitting for several weeks. There’s nothing like mom’s home cooking to make me feel better. We leave with another care package of food and full bellies to watch the series finale of “Lost” in the trailer.

By Sunday, the cold sore is looking much better and healing well. Zovirax saves the day. My gums seem to feel better. Brushing my teeth and eating is much less painful .  The sun is back out and blue skies are showing as we arrive back at our campsite. The wind is even dying down. Seems like my mouth issues are clearing up just in time for the next chemo on Wednesday. Oh goody.

Day 20 - my gums are definitely not sore anymore and eating is much easier. My hair however is another issue. The back of my head (on both sides near the top) feels like every hair is twisted around and out of position. Over the weekend my head hurts when the wind blows my hair around. I walk around like a rapper with my hood up. I shower after supper and notice a LOT more hair is coming out. Even though I’ve gone through losing my hair before, I still can’t bring myself to shave it off just yet.

Cycle 2 is around the corner. Will the first ten days be as bad as last time? God I hope not.

Chemo Cycle 1: the first 13 days

The drug that's hopefully going to kick cancer's ass!

I’m actually writing this on the 13th day of chemo and so far it’s been a good day. I’m feeling almost normal, and have been for the last couple of days. I can’t, however, say that for the first 11 days. Here’s the anatomy of the first 12 days:

Day 1: get first dose of Epirubicin (it’s red which usually means it’s nasty). The infusion itself only takes 7 minutes. It takes longer to get the anti-nausea drugs in than the actual chemo. Weird. Felt good for the rest of the day except for a headache in the evening that lasted for about an hour. Stomach not quite “normal”, but liveable.

Day 2: my nose is red. I look like someone who drinks too much, but I don’t drink anymore (to preserve Larry the Liver).

Day 3: along with my nose, my cheeks are now red and warm. No amount of mineral makeup covers it.  Awake til 5:30 am - all jacked up on the steroid they gave me for anti-nausea (Dexamethasone). All day stomach would be growling within one hour of eating. The anti-nausea drug Domperidone (NOT the champagne unfortunately) empties your stomach quickly to avoid nausea….so not long after eating  you are hungry again. Stomach has started feeling “funny” and I have lots of uncomfortable burps. Stomach is definitely not happy.

Day 4: nose, cheeks and now my neck and chest are blotchy red. Ugh. The disgusting burping continues and is worse after eating. I really like burping when it’s deep, gutteral and satisfying and I can burp with the best of men but this burping is NOT satisfying. It makes me feel crappy. Still jacked on the Dexamethasone and awake til 5am.

Day 5: Damn burping! My SKIN HURTS. Literally. My skin hurts…the back of my arms, my neck, almost everywhere. A light touch with my own hand causes pain. Feel sore all over. Slept like a rock - coming down off the Dexa now.

Day 6: My skin still hurts (said with a whiny voice) and the burping is driving me insane. Stomach is definitely not happy. Very tired. Deep sleep…definitely recovering from the 2 day Dexa high.

Day 7:  My skin does not hurt anymore! YAY. Had some issues with sleeping. Just couldn’t seem to go totally “under”.

Day 8: Actually seem to be slightly nauseous…I think it’s because of this “burpy” stomach. Husband bought a jug of Tums and I need them after eating almost everything. Crappy sleep.

Day 9: Stomach seems to be worse. The back of the Tums jug says it’s good for “sour stomach”…that’s how I would describe what I’ve got! And these are Ultra Strength Feeling very weak today. Had difficulty walking from parking lot into hospital for CT scan. Had to stop to catch breath and hold onto something because I was light-headed. Nurse in CT had problems finding a vein for the contrast dye. I had one glass of solution down that was threatening to come back up. Eyes clamped shut, trying deep breathing to get through it. Told nurse to get someone else to do it, and another took over and got a vein right away. She then looked at me and asked if I needed a stretcher. I declined and said I would be fine, but after another look she stated “you need a stretcher, I’m getting one”. I had no choice. Stretcher wheeled in, Lisa put onto stretcher and promptly wrapped in 2 warm blankets and then started crying. Jody the nurse who was looking after me was the first nurse I encountered at my first CT scan almost 10 years ago. She TOTALLY rocks and can find a vein anywhere. LOVE HER. Baby who is waiting for a CT and hasn’t eaten since 10pm the previous night is crying. I feel like he sounds and I cry some more. Jody brings me some sandpaper (hospital kleenex) and my next drink and manages to get me laughing. CT goes like clockwork once it happens. I realize Jody made the right call. I would not have stayed upright in a chair, that’s how crappy I felt. Upon leaving at 11:30 I decide I need chocolate milk or I won’t make it back to the car. Did a slow Tim Conway shuffle back to car, went home and hit the couch. Wonderful friend calls and asks if I need anything. I request Old Dutch BarBQ chips and she shows up with the loot and manages to make me laugh despite my sad mood and feeling crappy & weak overall. I have a shower after supper and cry in the shower. Can’t get rid of this sadness. Not the best sleep…can’t get comfy.

Day 10: Still feeling weak, light-headed, and heart gets racing pretty fast every once in awhile. A walk of less than 50 feet from the greenhouse to the deck gets my heart going like crazy. I climb the stairs and promptly lay down on the lounge chair, taking deep calming breaths. I’ve noticed this happening every once in awhile. Epirubicin is known for doing this to the heart. My MUGA scan (a heart test) is scheduled for next week so we can monitor to make sure it doesn’t get damaged. Stomach still really bothering me and I don’t feel good at all. I cry some more when a friend stops by to drop something off. I cry when my husband calls. I cry because I feel so crappy. When I feel sick I realize I AM sick, hence the tears.

Day 11: Hmmmm, what happened to the crappy feeling of the last 2 days?! Suddenly I feel normal and as if nothing has happened. Had a good long sleep til 1pm. A sunny warm day is on the way. Maybe that’s why I feel better. At 4pm I attempt to start weeding in one of my flowerbeds. My head feels like it weighs 75 pounds, I can’t find a comfortable position and I’m shaky. I guess I’m not better! I take frequent rests on the lounger in the shade but after my legs literally start to shake I decide that’s enough and give up on weeding. How will I EVER be able to look after my yard and garden this summer?? :(  On the bright side, no major stomach issues today but fast heart rate at times. Managed a quick grocery trip at 8:30pm.

Day 12: up at 11am and feel NORMAL….really normal! But, I decide to take it slow due to yesterday and how I thought I was ok but wasn’t. Husband does pancakes & bacon on the BBQ for brunch and we eat in the sunshine on the deck. Awesome. Wonderful friend drops by as we are on our way out with a massive fruit and goodie basket for us to enjoy. NO issues with stomach all day but took a Tums after supper just in case. Had some muscle spasms in ribs on our drive to get our trailer. Something that looks suspiciously like a cold sore is forming on my bottom lip. Not good. Epirubicin can cause this. CRAP. I use an acne medication because I don’t have anything else. My streak of bad luck continues when, as I’m eating fresh (SOFT) fruit salad in the evening, a chunk of one of my molars breaks off.

Day 13: Wake up at noon feeling normal AGAIN! WTF?! Am I turning a corner already? I’m not even at Day 14. Meet with oncologist in afternoon and discuss the side effects I’ve had. Got a prescription for some meds that will help with my stomach issues. The next round should be much better on the stomach. Not able to get into dentist today, going tomorrow to see what temporary measures can be done for the tooth. Oncologist and nurse not happy to hear of tooth issue in the middle of chemo and remind me we need to be careful with the mouth. Am hoping there is an easy temporary fix that will help. The edges are very sharp, it’s sensitive to my toothbrush. Bloody hell! Stupid tooth. Pick up drugs and talk to pharmacist about cold sore/chemo issue and purchase some Abreva. I’ve never paid 20 bucks for something sooo small. At least if it doesn’t help they have a money-back guarantee. I’m keeping my rcpt. Met a friend after indulging in a peanut butter milkshake at 8th Street drive-up DQ. Home for supper, no stomach issues and feeling normal. Maybe tomorrow I’ll try doing some weeding. Still no signs that my hair is losing it’s grip on my scalp. Did have a short little feeling of hair standing on end on right side of head on Saturday but nothing since. No pain, no tightness, no tingling…but it must be coming. Got a turban at the cancer centre today to use as a sleep cap. It’s red and white striped and I look like a Christmas Elf. I won’t be wearing that thing in public.

To be continued…..

Back in Chemo

*This posting was written on May 4^th, 2010 but not posted until Tuesday May 11

Tomorrow I start chemo. I still can’t believe I’m writing these words. Am I in denial? Sometimes I wonder if I am, but then I realize I DO know what’s going on and what will be happening to me. Have I accepted it? I suppose I must have accepted it so far because I seem to be in a decent place mentally. Will it change me? I guess that’s what I worry about the most. Going through cancer the first time totally ripped my life into shreds that scattered down like millions of snowflakes. It seemed like my life had been stolen from me overnight.  Nothing from that point on would ever be the same. Our life would never go back to the way it was before. How I wished and hoped it could, but it’s just not possible when you go through a diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer. I can’t speak to how it feels going through an earlier stage cancer and if things ever do get back to the way they were before. I hope that it does for some, but I’m realistic to think that it would be rare for it to work out that way.

So many times in the early years of my diagnosis my husband and I wanted so badly for our life to go back to the way it was before. We just wanted our lives to be “the same as they were before”. All the wishing in the world can’t pull that miracle out of the magician’s hat. My social worker (and others) said we had to get used to our “new normal”. I started to hate that phrase but once it actually happened, my attitude changed.  There are many stages to going through a cancer fight both physically and mentally. First there’s shock, confusion and fear. Then there’s anger. Extreme sadness often falls in there somewhere along the way. And then at some point you realize that your life is as normal as it’s going to get and you’re ok with it. You understand that it will never, ever be the way it used to be…but that the way it is now isn’t all that bad. After all – you ARE alive!

For almost ten years I stumbled over the rocks, attempted to jump the hurdles, and then at some point found the smooth road and open water and I embraced my life the way it had turned out after all I’d been through. Some days I questioned my sanity. I had incurable, widespread cancer that was under control.  It could, however, start to progress (spread) again at any time and my life would be threatened. Why then did it seem that I was like a little 4 year old skipping through a field of daisies with my head in the clouds thinking life was just grand?! With the threat of cancer hanging over my head continually I was somehow able to live and to thrive.

I would be thrown into a tailspin of despair every once in awhile, especially after the death of a breast cancer friend. It was at those times I realized just how scary this is, but how lucky I was. It could have very easily been me that lost my life. Why her and not me? Why, why, why, why, why????!

I’ve known for the last almost ten years that my cancer will most likely start to progress again at some point and I’ll be thrown back into turmoil, fighting for my life. I’ve also come to terms (I think) with what will most likely take my life or will definitely threaten it along the way. It’s the disease I’ve lived with since the summer of 2000 – breast cancer. Even though I’ve known the cancer would likely start to grow again, it doesn’t make it any easier when the actual time comes.

The time has come. My cancer is progressing and my life is being threatened once more. Recent tests revealed the cancer is back in my liver and in some other areas of my abdomen. I can’t repeat the word I said in the oncologist’s office when I heard the news. I promised I wouldn’t use that word in this blog. I’m starting to wonder if I should have made that promise and how long it will be before I break it while I’m writing here J

Tomorrow is the day I start chemo again. I start fighting for my life again, and I’m wondering if my life will stay as it is now or if we’ll have to adjust to another “new normal”?! I sure as hell hope not. I’ve gotten used to the way my life is now and I don’t want many changes. Gee, that’s not a lot to ask when you have metastatic breast cancer is it? It IS a lot to ask but I’m hoping with all my heart that it’s possible…not only for my sanity but for the sanity of my husband, our families and friends.

I haven’t cried much since I got the news that I was going back into chemo. I cried in the office the day I got the news from the oncologist and the rest of my medical team as we all huddled together in a small treatment room. I cried when I called to make an appointment to get my hair cut short. I knew it was all going to fall out within 10-14 days of the first chemo and making that appointment for a short haircut was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. But it wasn’t as hard as telling some of my family and friends. Telling my best friend since childhood was THE hardest thing to do and of course we both got teary on the phone. Then I got teary the next day when flowers showed up on my door from her with a lovely note.

I’ve been fairly good emotionally while telling people - so far. At first we kept the news very quiet and only informed a few family members and friends. I just was not ready for it to become public knowledge. I wasn’t able to wrap this news around my own head, let alone try and make someone else understand. And I wasn’t ready for the “sad puppy-dog looks and sappy voice tones” of those who would write emails or call. I also was not ready for the “rah rah” messages either.

To tell you the truth, I feel dead inside. I wish I knew why I was feeling this way. There don’t seem to be any emotions lurking near the surface and I’m wondering why. For God’s sake woman!!! You’re going to have chemotherapy, and you’re going to lose your hair in GOBS. I keep wondering if I’m going to feel sick and shitty. I worry that I may pack on the pounds from the steroids. And, I worry more that I’ll end up eating like a horse, which is what happened last time. Seems kind of weird that I’m worried about all this when what I should be worried about is whether the chemo will work and if I’ll survive.

Tomorrow will bring what may be one of the hardest days of my life but I’m going to make every attempt to get through it with humor. If I need to cry, I will. During the next four months of treatment  I’m going to spend the majority of my time at home and in my garden. I won’t be hanging around big groups or large parties because I want to avoid getting sick and ending up at the hospital. I just might be the world’s most secretive hermit this summer. The plan at this point is to stay home, stay healthy, and to take things one day and one moment at a time.

Baby steps is all I can do right now so that’s what I’ll stick with, and I’ll hope my sanity stays with me. Maybe that dead feeling inside will melt away, maybe the worry will disappear, and hopefully I’ll once again feel thankful to be alive and celebrate every day.

KFC for the Cure? GAG.

Yes, you read that right. It’s a new fundraiser in the U.S. where Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC) has partnered up with Komen for the Cure to raise money for breast cancer research. It’s called “Buckets for the Cure” and they’re promoting it as “the largest single donation to end breast cancer”.  This is definitely a new low and I’m surprised and shocked that Komen agreed to be part of it, especially since it’s such an unhealthy form of chicken. Deep-fried and full of fat, but man do I LOVE the skin with all those special herbs and spices. My husband and I haven’t eaten KFC in over 3 years (because we did LA Weight Loss and learned to eat properly) but when we DID, I would eat the skin and some of the white meat and he’d eat the rest. We would fight over the skin! Nothing like a big hunk of chicken with a massive flavorful chunk of skin and all that coating….and of course now I’m aware of the fat.  The closest we get to fast food now  is Subway and the occasional Blizzard. We’re members of the Blizzard Fan Club and as a good member I can not stay away from a Blizzard if they send me a buy one, get one free coupon

Back to KFC and their fundraising. Yes, they even have PINK buckets for the chicken. I just heard about this tonight on a fellow breast cancer blogger’s blog. Here’s the link to what she wrote, and you’ll see many comments after the posting too! http://notjustaboutcancer.blogspot.com/2010/04/buckets-of-pink-sht.html

She titled the posting “Buckets of Pink Sh*t”. One person commented  they thought Komen has sunk to a new low, but that raising awareness is still good. I don’t understand why KFC couldn’t have just stroked a big-ass cheque to Komen and advertised the fact they did and not tie it to any product. It doesn’t seem to work that way these days however.

 ”Buckets for the Cure” is being promoted as “the largest single donation to end breast cancer”. www.bucketsforthecure.com is the website if you want to check it out for yourself and make your own judgement. For every pink bucket of chicken sold, KFC will donate 50 cents to Komen for the Cure. As of today, they have already raised $2,356,038 and their goal is to raise 8.5 MILLION DOLLARS. That’s a lot of coin and I’d sure like to see it happen, but ONLY for the research. Just thinking of how many people it will take, eating all that unhealthy food kinda makes me sick to my stomach. I’m impressed and sickened at the same time with the amount of money they’ve already raised. Their promotion says it’s 50 cents from every bucket of original or grilled chicken sold….hmmm. Like I said, I haven’t eaten at KFC in over 3 years so I don’t know what their grilled chicken is like (or if it’s a much healthier choice). It could be something they only have in the U.S. I’m heading to Philadelphia for a metastatic breast cancer conference this weekend so maybe I’ll get a chance to check it out. I won’t be buying any, I can guarantee that!

Despite the fact that they have a very large goal and a big campaign which does raise awareness, I just don’t like the idea of eating greasy, unhealthy food to raise money for breast cancer research. I wonder if Komen was approached with this and just couldn’t turn it down, simply because of the amount of money it has the potential to raise. How could anyone turn down 8.5 million for research? Komen may have thought “if we don’t work with them, someone else will and they’ll get the money - not us”. I image there was a lot of discussion in many boardrooms about this promotion…at least I hope there was.  In the end, they decided to get involved with KFC and now it seems the breast cancer community is less than impressed. I just hope this promotion does NOT come to Canada.