Positivity

Positivity is my number one strength according to StrengthsQuest.™ Part of the description reads: “Somehow you can’t quite escape your conviction that it is good to be alive.” How true is that?!?! If you know me, you know I find the “good” in every experience.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have my bad days. We all have them.

There’s a new pop song from Despicable Me 2* that is a delight. It pretty much sums up how I feel about life.

*I’ve never seen either Despicable Me movie, but I have to admit that those minions are just darn cute.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

P.S.

I have had several interesting and inspiring conversations as a result of my last post. Some were out of concern for my health. Others were supportive of my message. And others shared their own experiences with the “stages of grief” associated with their journey through hardship.

First, let me assure you that I am healthy. I am six years cancer-free and continue to feel well. My anger just finally caught up with me. I hate that cancer even exists. A longtime friend asked if I hate that I have to live with the fact that my cancer may return. I had not thought of that being part of my anger, but it probably is.

Where there is fear there is also anger. Anger that my husband and I have lost friends and colleagues to cancer. Anger that anyone has to live with the fear that cancer exists; that you may be diagnosed because there is a family history. Anger that once you’ve had a cancer diagnosis you are statistically more likely to have another diagnosis. Fear that the original cancer might come back. And anger that such a thought is even in the back of my mind.

I have written about knowledge and how knowledge can be, and is, powerful. But tied to knowledge is fear and anger. I seek knowledge out of fear and curiosity. Knowledge also feeds fear, and maybe it’s a healthy fear to know the facts of my diagnosis. So, I am going to embrace my anger. I am going to let myself be angry. But I am not going to let anger consume me. I am going to look at my anger and ask, “What can I do?” Well, I can continue to share my knowledge along with the latest news and information. I can work toward finding a cure for all cancer. And I will be there for a friend (or the friend of a friend) in need.

To continue my message of “knowledge is power,” here is a video regarding dense breast tissue and its correlation to breast cancer.

 

 

 

 

Another P.S. – March is colorectal cancer awareness month. If you have a family history or are over the age of 50, get yourself screened.

 

 

 

 

 

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

I Am Tired

I have become weary. I could blame it on the exceptionally cold winter this season. I might attribute it to some extra responsibilities at work. However, this feeling of ennui has been with me since before the bitter temperatures of December arrived, and long before things got busy at work.

I started thinking about why I feel this way and I realize that I am not tired; I am angry. I am angry at this “thing” called cancer. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross is known for identifying five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It is recognized that the stages do not have to occur in that exact order except that grief generally starts with denial and ends with acceptance. And even after acceptance the stages can be and often are revisited.

I have heard that anyone who has experienced a traumatic event in their lives will go through these stages. The event does not have to be the death of a loved one. A common circumstance is a life-threatening illness or diagnosis. I was once asked if I ever got angry about my diagnosis. The answer is no, I don’t think I have. I seem to have skipped over that part.

But now I’m angry. I am angry with the small town doctor and radiologist at my local hospital (before I moved my health care to Boston) who overlooked years of questionable mammograms, telling me I had a cyst, because there was no history of breast cancer in my family. I am angry that another local hospital overlooked a friend’s symptoms of a recurrence. I am angry that yet another friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I am angry that cancer has become an epidemic.

I recently watched the documentary Pink Ribbon, Inc. Did you know that back in the 1940’s and 1950’s one in twenty-two (4%) of women would be diagnosed with invasive breast cancer at some point in their life. And it was a post-menopausal disease. When I was diagnosed the mantra was “one in ten.” It was barely two years later that I read “one in eight.” That’s right, 12%. And there is an increase of breast cancer in women in their 30’s and 40’s. I was considered young when I was diagnosed at the age of 43.

Anger is a powerful tool. Some people become activists. Some become inspirational speakers. Many write, whether it’s a journal, blog or book. Anger is a motivator. So I am going to continue to do what I can to help promote awareness for all cancers.* I am going to fundraise for the Avon Foundation’s annual Walk for Breast Cancer. I am going to help my friends when and where I can.

I am angry. But I am also tired. I am tired of this disease. I am tired of this epidemic. I am tired of cancer.

*March is colorectal cancer awareness month. Aka bowel cancer to my friends in the U.K. This is a reminder to get screened.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Inspiration

I received an email a while ago; one of those generic emails from a woman soliciting my input in support of her foundation. She asked that I consider sharing her story, but also my story on her website. Her cause is a good one; the fight against cancer. Specifically, her husband had died from lung cancer. I saved the email thinking I might reply to her. I never did. However, her inquiry into what inspires me intrigued me, so I saved her email.

When I think of inspiration I think of stories of hope and courage. However, inspiration is more than that. Inspiration should encourage me to move forward with my goals. It is not just a “feel good” story. Inspiration gives motivation and determination to keep going when I want to quit. So what does inspire me?

The woman with metastatic breast cancer who walked in the San Francisco Avon Walk last year. She inspires me. I had read about her through the Avon Foundation. I also found myself walking in front of her. I knew it was her as I listened to the woman behind me tell her walking partners about her treatment. She has Stage IV breast cancer and she will eventually die from the disease. She was on her fourth different drug treatment. The first three had stopped working to hold back the progression of the disease. She had entered into an experimental protocol that was designed to target the cancer cells. She took pills, but still had to go into the hospital once a month for an infusion. She also had to have blood tests and follow-up appointments to see if the new drugs were working. She is an inspiration. She was walking 39.3 miles through the hills of San Francisco with a debilitating disease that will kill her. I kept walking.

 

Babies are an inspiration. Little ones offer hope for the future; hope for a future without cancer. My great-niece was born while I was undergoing radiation treatment. I held her a few weeks later. As I looked at her sweet face and beautiful bald head I felt as if I were looking into a mirror. Here was a miniature version of me; of what I looked like in 2008. As I have watched her and her older brother grow I am reminded of how lucky I am to have such beauty in my life.

A co-worker just gave birth to twins. Another friend is pregnant. And yet another is hoping. While I don’t have children of my own, each birth, each pregnancy brings me joy. I am happy for them; for the growing families. I want to spend this year making baby blankets. New life keeps me knitting. (A hobby I have always enjoyed and am just getting back to).

My friend Tina is an inspiration. Her love and devotion to her family is beyond measure. She balances life on a small farm with a successful career. She cares for her mother with endless energy and determination. At times I feel overwhelmed with my responsibilities at work, but then a smile or kind word from Tina reminds me of how far I’ve come and I realize I’m here, living today, for a reason and a purpose.

Upon reflection, it is not a thing that inspires me. It is people. The people around me, whether it’s a chance meeting, family, or a lifelong friend. That is what inspires me. That is what keeps me going.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. Now on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

The Coffee Break

Our silence is comfortable

She naps

While I concentrate on driving

This journey we’re taking

Is a choice

We need each other

We are in this together

And in the end

There is sadness

But that is Life

And in the meantime

There are beautiful days

We find blessings

Today there is sunshine

And coffee

 

 

 

Learning Curve

My friend Linda needs to go to the hospital every week and I am part of her transportation team. Last week I took Linda in for her short or quick appointment. She had a 10 a.m. appointment for the administration of some drugs. We were on our way home around 2:30 p.m.

I have to admit, Linda and I had a few giggles about the “short” appointment over the course of the day. However, we also learned a few things; things that I think can help her caregivers as well as others who find themselves in a similar situation.

First, and most important, don’t panic. There are so many things that can go wrong throughout the whole day that it is vital that we did not care about the delays along the way. In fact, it gave us a chance to be together. We talked, we checked e-mail, we chatted with the nurse. I learned a few things. Linda felt free to ask me about my experiences. Beyond that, we agreed that the day was a learning experience.

For one, traffic happens. We can leave her house at the same time every week and one week we will be early, another on time, and at some point we will be late. But that’s ok. The doctors and nurses are just glad we get there. They have a system worked out that allows for delays, back logs, and rescheduled appointments. As a result, they will take you next.

One of the nice things that we learned was that if you are there for a treatment over the lunch hour you get fed. That’s right; two very nice volunteers came by with a sandwich cart offering lunch. They feed the patients first and then make a second round, feeding the caregivers. (I was a bit surprised to be referred to as a “caregiver” but that’s for another post).

We learned that each week Linda will be evaluated based on her vitals and blood counts. Sometimes the results are a little off. When this happens the formula must be calculated by hand. That’s right; the medical staff have to pick up their number two pencils and slide ruler and do a hand calculation. Then a new prescription is written, the prescription then goes to the pharmacy, and finally, the cocktail is administered. This process takes time. In our case, it took hours. This is good to know because the next “quick” appointment may or may not take all day.

On the way home Linda and I talked about the day and the surprises along the way. But we both agreed that there will be learning along the way.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. Now on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Saying Yes

If you’ve been following my blog from the beginning you know that I struggle with being “that person;” the one who wears my breast cancer diagnosis as a badge of honor. I am also reluctant to get involved. I wrestle with the knowledge that my survivorship has meaning and that my life has purpose because I often don’t see what that purpose is. Until I am called upon to step out or step up and my heart says “yes” before my brain can filter the response so that my mouth says “no.”

Saying “yes” to opportunities has been on my mind a lot lately. Back in November I had the opportunity the help my friend Tina. Not only did I say “yes,” I insisted on being part of the solution. I work at my pay check job three days a week, which means that Tuesday and Thursday is usually filled with appointments, errands and other activities. At the time that Tina needed help my calendar was completely open on those days so I was able to step up and say “yes” without even thinking about it.

Now I am faced with having said “yes” to Tina and her mother, who has become a friend. Mom’s name is Linda, and Linda needs our help. I am lucky because I have the time. And I know that saying “yes” is the right thing; it is what I’ve been called to do. When I look back on all of my experiences since completing cancer treatment I realize that those events, those turning points in my life, have lead me to today. God put the three of us together for a reason. And it is my responsibility to say “yes” to His calling, whatever the outcome.

What I find amazing is that saying “yes” is still scary, but there is a strength (and at times it feels like physical strength) that is so overpowering that “scary” is no longer an overwhelming emotion. But I do think about what I am afraid of.

This past Wednesday, knowing I would be seeing Linda on Thursday that old nag of doubt crept in. And I realized that my fear is the fear of failure. I fear that I will fail Linda in some way. That I won’t be there for her when she needs me. That I will say “no” at some point out of a selfish desire to do something else. I don’t want to be “that person” either. So I am going to hold onto what I believe is God’s purpose for my life right here, right now. And I will continue to say “yes.”

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. Now on Twitter @relucsurvivor.