On survivorship

While walking this morning I realized I actually have too many thoughts on which I want to write about.  I think this is because I set aside less time to write and I have been engaging life more.  I look at this as good.  The main theme of my many thoughts is around holding the space of survivorship, or recovery post cancer treatment.

When I was first diagnosed, I had a wise person say to me, "You are just taking a walk beside cancer for a short while, don't let it take over your life." This is so true.  I know in the depths of treatment last summer I felt like all my decisions and ways of being were influenced by my health issues.  As the lengthy treatment became less demanding I started focusing on more of what I want.  Now that treatment is basically done (except Tamoxifen which I am to be on for 5 years) I am really trying to re-engage life.  I am starting to part ways with cancer, but the disengagement is slow.  I think this is what survivorship is.  The struggle between re-engaging life and disengaging the "walk with cancer" as cancer (treatment) tends to have such a strong presence.

Somehow, I thought, despite seeing several family members' struggles with cancer treatment, that after I finished the bulk of treatment I would somehow be at a better energy level by now.  I thought that I could just jump right into my old life somehow, but it doesn't work that way.  Somehow while walking with cancer I ended up on a different path.  Not entirely different from before, but the path changed.  I look at how I spend my time differently, I look at my health differently, I want to shift the work I do to use the knowledges I have gained in the past few years to help others.  These are changes for sure.  I hope they are better changes that will create an even more enriching and balanced life.

The other thing about survivorship is that I look "great" according to people around me and "you would never know that you are a cancer survivor".   Somehow this lends itself to thinking that it is time to get right back to where one left off prior to diagnosis.  But it's not that easy.  Take this past fun and enjoyable weekend. There was a pool birthday party; time with my folks; taking in Buskerfest; learning to make home-made gnocchi with my mom-in-law; meals with friends and family, so I didn't even cook, I just drove my son and myself around to the various outings. I know I slept solidly each night; and many friends would say anyone would be tired after so much activity. But honestly, I know I am exhausted today and likely going to sleep for a good portion of today.  It's a tricky balance.  I want to live life fully and offer a lot of variety and richness to my son's life; and then there is what I notice I can handle... and likely the responsibility of work, as I know the return will come soon, is really going to challenge the balance I want.

I suspect many cancer survivors feel this way.  I know in early summer, of the other women I met through the Rethink Breast Cancer group, three of the women went back to work early for various reasons.  I know all three reported they should have taken their time to go back and not rush into things.  I am trying to heed this advice and not worry about the return to work, nor overthink things.  I know there are changes I want to make as I re-engage in life and I think about my work life quite a bit.  However I know I should not rush things.  This is again, one of the challenges of survivorship, how to pace oneself and give yourself permission to take your time. Just because I envisioned myself having better energy and being more fully back into the activities I immerse myself in, does not mean I need to be there.  More importantly I am trying to be in the moment: not to overthink the future nor dwell in the past. 

More Art & Art for Cancer Foundation

I meant to post this entry a couple of weeks ago, I think because I meant to add photots of my art from the workshop and forgot about, so here it is.

The other week I participated in another Art for Cancer Foundation (www.artforcancerfoundation.org) workshop.  This one was using watercolours.  However it was using watercolour crayons and these are really intense wet-on-wet watercolour paints that I had never encountered before.  I've only used the watercolour pucks in past.  The results I think are quite amazing, although I think I need more technique to get used to the movement of the paint with water and to be cautious about over saturating the colour. Nonetheless, lots of fun.  And, another perk of the workshop was seeing a few participants that I've met before.  It is nice to reconnect while doing art.
Another Art for Cancer event is their upcoming Gala in the end of October and then they will be releasing a book that documents the City Hall exhibit that I was part of. Here's a preview:  http://artforcancerfoundation.org/upcoming-events/toronto-city-hall-event/the-book/

One of the things I've realized with meeting other patients at some recent Art for Cancer events is the uniqueness of the recovery stage past treatment; whether considered "without evidence of disease" or continuing to live with disease and perhaps even run out of treatment options.  I find when I meet other people who have recently completed treatment there are definitely shared experiences.  It is reassuring to meet other who are just as sensitive about what they injest. To start understanding the "new normal" that has arisen.  To understand how the fatigue and continue for months, and sometimes years after treatment.  That somehow the experiences of cancer and its treatment creates some similar shared perspective on life: to not sweat the small stuff; to really be focused on creating meaningful existences; and be mindful to take care of our fragile yet resilient bodies.

The watercolours:

 

book review: Meals that Heal Inflammation

Today I’m doing something a little different on the blog.  I decided to participate in Hay House’s offer to send a free book if I review it on my blog.  I thought that was a pretty good deal.   I chose Meals that Heal Inflammation as I am always looking for new ideas and more information about food and how it relates to health.  This book in particular piqued my interest as cancer is known to be related to inflammatory conditions in the body.  Further, since treatment, I have found that I have had joint issues and it looks like arthritis is developing; and of course arthritis is an inflammatory condition too.

Meals that Heal Inflammation (http://www.amazon.com/Meals-That-Heal-Inflammation-Eliminate/dp/140194034X/) is a thoughtfully written book.  I appreciate how it is organized with easy to find information that is recapped and referenced.  I have tried out a number of different diets since I was diagnosed with cancer.  I certainly think the ideas behind the book are helpful.  Author Julie Daniluk states that there is no right diet for anyone, everyone is unique. What Julie provides is a method to figure out what your own food sensitivities are.  She covers the various reasons why inflammation may occur and addresses lifestyle aspects that can help reduce the impact of inflammation.  The book has point form summaries of each chapter and the layout is easy to read and easy to find information.  There are quizzes and easy tables to quickly assess your needs.  Then, Julie provides a plan to slowly remove foods from your diet that are likely culprits of inflammation – whether allergen based or a health condition.  Also, given the wide variety of sensitivities people have, Julie includes practical suggestions to accommodate, say a soy based sensitivity/allergy so recipes can be altered to individual needs.

I tried out some of the 120 recipes that are included in this book.  I think the recipes fared well.  My four year old son liked the pesto (cheese and nut free) and the African Nut Butter Stew. The Dijon chicken recipe didn’t fare as well with my son, but my parents both liked it.  The only one I tried and didn’t get feedback on is the best carrot cake ever which I brought to friends but we didn’t get to eating it; however I’m looking forward to trying out the recipe again soon along with many more of the recipes. It can be hard to come across good recipes that are dairy, wheat, gluten and nightshade vegetable free; all of the recipes fit these criteria. What a delight.

FTC Disclosure: I received this book for free from Hay House Publishing for review purposes.  The opinions are completely my own based on my own perspectives.

Summery Shifts

Today I'm pondering shifts.  I'm thinking of either merging my blog with my website or at least changing the byline on my blog.  I think I am at a point where despite the significant events of widowhood and becoming a cancer patient which have dominated my life, they are not all there is to me.  Further, I've been finding as I heal I want to shift the focus from "the problems" to just perspectives on life.  Certainly my experiences with cancer and widowhood inform my perspective, but I don't think I want them to take a leading role, per se.

The other factor influencing me is time.  I love writing, doing art, playing piano. I also love spending time with friends and family, which will likely fill much of my time into August. So with that in mind, I hope anyone reading this experiencing summer is enjoying the hot weather and finding many summery activities to be engaged in.

I'll share an unusal summer activity I found to do this week: play a piano in a park.  In Toronto, there is a promotion for the Pan Am Games and there are 41 pianos placed around the city for the public to just play.  What a delight to see a piano in nature and then the trepidation to play as I am terrible at memorizing any piece in its entirety.

Be tuned in, I may be doing a book review or two on the site before the end of summer.

More Art

I wanted to share the results of my terrific experience participating in Art for Cancer Foundation's trial 5 week workshop. The workshop was great on so many levels.  I learned new techniques and got to experiment.  The art is so engaging for me that I don't think about anything else, except creating art.  I met interesting people, perhaps it says something about the people who would seek out this kind of support during thier cancer journey.  One of the neat things is that we don't formally talk about cancer and since it isn't the focus, there is a break from the constant focus that being a cancer patient demands.  Likewise for those who are actively engaged in treatment, there is no explanation needed for all the side effects.  Everyone present has been engaged in a similar process on some level, so no explanation needed.

Here's my art from the 5 sessions:

untitled: pastels

Sunflower & Butterfly: ink, acrylic, gesso

Picked: tissue paper, napkin paper, fiber, acrylic, ink

Golden Hills: gesso texture, sand, acrylic and metallic glaze

the screening dilemma resolved: tissue paper, newspaper, gesso texture, acrylic, glaze

reflections on end of treatment

Here I am staring at a blank page wondering what to write.  Perhaps it is because I'm at what appears to be the end of my cancer journey. Ten days ago I had my last Herceptin treatment and this Friday I have the port removed. In the past month since my last entry (I can't believe how quickly time has passed by) I've been on a yoga retreat, submitted art to more shows, lots of the usual social outings, and the usual household and mommy stuff.  All pretty good and positive. However ending treatment is odd.  I'm definitely happy to not have to be showing up to and anticipating having the port removed makes me a bit giddy and long with the anticipation to just live my days without showing up to a hospital every few weeks or more frequently.  There also is apprehension: about what next? how will I adjust to returning to work? will I be able to retain my health?
The wisest words I've come across is just keep stepping one foot in front of the other. Really, now matter what happens, it is most important to be in the present moment and keep living life to its fullest.

Poem

I thought I would share a poem I wrote about a week or so ago.

Crossing the Finish Line

The super sticky
white
steristrips
are looking dog-earred
and grey
day by day
one falling off here
another there.

The last reminants
of the year long
cancer treatments
that ravaged
my body
and wearied
my brain.

Avenging the reckless
little tumor that
decided to try
and make a home
in my left breast.

In addition to the poem, I'll share what happened a few days ago when I did take the last of the steristrips off.  I took them off at night before bed.  The next morning my son came into my room and that was the first thing he notice: "Momma, you don't have any band-aids!  Momma, that means we can tussle" (play fight). I affirmed, this is true.  Then my son said, "Momma, we need to celebrate.  We need to make chocolate pancakes." So we did.

What would you do?

Perspective is such a strange thing.  Yesterday I was at the chemotherapy unit (and I am very happy to say I have one more treatment left). It was unusually quiet and I settled into my book with a few other patients milling around.   A few minutes into my wait, a young couple came into the wait area, the man was in a wheelchair and promptly collapsed himself onto the bench seating nearby me exclaiming how everything hurt, making an oh so familiar sound of discomfort. His partner put his head on her lap and was stroking it.  I was quickly transported back four years to when I was trying to support and be there for my husband.  It became hard to not scrutinize this young couple further, but I really didn't want to stare. 
As we sat waiting for our respective treatments, I couldn't help but feel the desire to reach out to them.  I wanted to say, "Hey, I've been there" or "If you want to talk to someone who knows that space, here's where you can reach me." But I didn't say a thing. I felt at the same time I'd be intruding; really, a moral dilemma.  They, of course, had no idea what knowledge I hold, and I did not want to impose.  I found myself starting to compose a letter:
Hi anonymous young couple,
I don't know your situation, nor do I want to intrude. What appears is something I strongly relate to.  Perhaps you, the young woman, could be me 4 years ago - my husband was diagnosed with a rare cancer which then became terminal.  If you want someone to talk to that's "been there" you're welcome to contact me...
The couple got called for treatment before I finished the letter and had a chance to discreetly slip it to the young woman. I learned something from this.  I have been thinking a lot about "what next" for my future and pondering the possiblity of doing work with families impacted by cancer/bereavement.  I figure if I had such a strong desire to reach out, that perhaps this is an area to explore despite my hesitations, despite logically wondering if I want my life experiences of the past few years to become my work life and career.

Another lost to cancer

After writing a couple posts ago I may be less active, instead I have become a more active writer; go figure.
Anyway, today I just found out David Servan-Schreiber, the author of Anticancer: A New Way of Life died of terminal brain cancer last July.  I was actually going to check out his site to make sure it was linked correctly as I was going refer to it for something else, and I found the link dead.  So I looked up a few things to find he had died.
This saddens me.  His book Anticancer provided me with so much hope.  Again it often seems that there is no control in regards to cancer.  I hear so many different stories of people who have had healthy lifestyles who have been diagnosed or who have died of cancer, but likewise there are many who are not living so healthy that don't seem to be touched with health issues.  I still believe a healthy lifestyle can make a difference, but, perhaps we have way less say over our mortality than we think we do. Although, at best, I can say that the changes I have made in lifestyle have enhanced my general well-being and create a better balance in my life.

On appearances

Today I was reading a blog entry, ‘Looking Good’ by Sam Albert (http://ultra-sounds.org/author/skipthewheatgrass/). She writes about how people are always telling her how good she looks, as if there is an expectation that she may look worse, being ill.

This made me reflect on a recent interaction I had with a colleague whom I meet occasionally.   This time, she said, you know you are really looking good, if someone came to our table and we said one of us had cancer they wouldn’t know which one.  I questioned this and she added that I don’t have the dark circles under my eyes or the hollow look around my eyes any more.  I would say, I actually do have dark circles under my eyes still, but not as defined as before. Furthermore, this colleague on previous occasions has told me I look great, which I’m pretty sure was not the case; or perhaps the expectation, as Sam Albert surmised, is that someone whom is “battling" cancer would look worse.

This makes me think that either my supports are either trying to bring me up and make me feel better by telling a “little white lie” or they have really grave perceptions and are amazed by how well I fared through treatment.  Really, what does a cancer patient look like?  Certainly I see at the hospital and other places really ill and frail looking patients who have likely been battling for awhile and/or the cancer has progressed far enough to seriously impinge on bodily functions.  I saw this with my husband.  But even in his case, he really didn’t look gravely ill until the last 4-5 months of his life.  Short of the hair loss from certain chemotherapies and the weight loss side effects (both which are not givens in cancer treatments but common to cancer treatments), often cancer is an unseen illness for many patients, much like mental illness or chronic fatigue syndrome.  Many patients “pass” as healthy without any health concerns if one looks at outer appearances.  In the chemotherapy waiting area, it is interesting to look at the people and sometime the only thing giving away the patient is the hospital wristband.