Beating Cancer, one day at a time

Beating Cancer, one day at a time

Monday 27 April 2015

Balancing Act

It's taken me a while to write a new entry. I've found myself consumed by the idea of blogging. Always questioning what the next topic should be, or what I want to share with the world. Like most things these days, I'm over thinking it. Trying to find balance between documenting my journey and actually enjoying it.

A lot has happened since I last wrote about my Cancerversary. I was finally able to get out of bed and have some fun. The past few weeks have been filled with friends, family, and more memories than I would normally have experienced in months. It's all about enjoying the moments when I'm feeling well, and lately that's been the two out of three weeks between Chemo treatments.

The reason I haven't blogged is simple, I've been out enjoying my time. Like anything you do in life, balance is key. While most of you learn to juggle work, friends, chores, etc. My time is managed quite the same way, just with different priorities. My full time job is Cancer.

I've been doing chemo now for over a year and slowly starting to understand my routine. I've become accustomed to the idea that in order to survive, I need to endure the pain. While the bad days are rough, I find solace in the idea that it too shall pass in a matter of days. Allowing me to feel better in between my treatments.

Honestly, that is one of the only things that does get me through. Knowing the side effects will eventually subside a little and allow me to feel "normal." As a Cancer survivor you cling onto that idea. That while we may never be able to think and act like most, we're still allowed our good days. Those good days, no matter how few and far between, is what keeps us going. Those moments, even hours, where we forget we're sick and focus on being happy.

I'm always far too hard on myself, constantly pushing my boundaries. They've told me to go home and make memories but how can I do that if I'm stuck in bed? Where do you draw the line between taking care of yourself vs. enjoying your time? Trying to prolong your life while still allowing quality of life.

For me, it's all about tempering expectations as I move forward. Right now, I know I need to stay in bed for a few days. I prepare for that. Whether I chose to write, sleep it off, or watch movies for three days, I'm ready. Because I know within the week I'll be able to leave the house, see friends and live. I'm no good to anyone, including myself, if I'm not feeling well. It's important to learn your limits and not be afraid to put your foot down.

I guess everyone has their own sense of balance. I keep envisioning a tightrope walker juggling multiple balls in the air. You don't have to be sick to appreciate the idea of keeping everything in motion. That even when you lose a ball you continue the act, accommodating for the shift in weight. And allowing yourself to fall, because it's how you get back up that matters. Taking the good with the bad and basking in the laughter as the crowd cheers you on.

Thank you for not only cheering me on, but for giving me a reason to get back up. For the messages when I'm stuck in bed and the time spent together when I'm feeling good. It's taken a year but I feel like I'm starting to finally get better with my footwork. Life really is a balancing act, and I'm hoping for a very long rope.

Wednesday 8 April 2015

Cancerversary

Alright, cue the trumpets and roll out the red carpet, I was officially diagnosed one year today! What, there's no confetti? Well there should be!

You're automatically a survivor the day you're diagnosed. I often have people question that. But the truth is, everyday that's exactly what we're doing -surviving! Beating the odds at all costs deserves a pat on the back. As a survivor you can't help but think in terms of dates and time. You naturally cling onto memories and instill them in your mind. I bet if you ask anyone of us, we would say the same thing, the day we were diagnosed is a significant one. That moment that our lives changed forever.

Everyone always asks what runs through your mind when you're told you have Cancer. I think everyone experiences different emotions, some in stages, or all at once. I've always said that you automatically go into "survivor mode." That your mind can only handle so much information at once. I know I certainly couldn't.

I was working a split shift that day when I received the call. I was asked to come in at 4pm for the results. I remember asking if I would be okay to come back to work my night shift. The nurse hesitantly said I would be alright to return (yeah, ok!) giving me a false sense of hope. I remember turning to my boss and literally saying "if it's Cancer, I won't be back, but don't cover my shift just yet." Again, that sarcastic defence mechanism was in full force. Mom was leaving for a conference out of town that afternoon but thought it would be best if she joined me. Like I said before, neither of us wanted to believe it was Cancer. But I think deep down, given our history, we both knew there was a chance. I often talk about gut feelings and how you should trust your instincts. No matter how hard I tried to deny the possibility, I think a part of me just knew.

I barely knew the medical professional that gave me the results. I had just recently switched to a Nurse Practitioner who had sent me for testing. I certainly didn't envy her position that day as Mom and I sat down. There was no small talk, no discussion of weather, we all knew why we were there that day. It's always easier to rip the Band-Aid quick, spit it out, get it over with.

As soon as we sat down she told me the results had come back positive. Mom gasped, I froze. We sat there for a short while as she explained what the next steps would be (I didn't hear a word). It was minutes later, which felt like hours, that I finally spoke. "So I have Cancer?" I said it the same way you would ask if someone would like fries with that. That's when Mom started to cry and said "I never wanted to hear you say that." All of a sudden it became much more real but I needed my Doctor to literally say the words, "yes, you have Breast Cancer."

I don't remember much from the appointment that day. It felt like hours, but I can't imagine it lasted much more than 15 minutes. Turns out, it doesn't take long to have your whole world turn upside down. Moments like that happen in an instant. I know I never cried, never really felt much of anything. I instinctively went numb. Like I said before, you instantly go into "survivor mode." All I could retain was "what is the next step?" In my case it was an appointment with my Surgeon the next day. At least things were progressing quickly. Is that a good thing? Or is it an indicator of the severity of the disease? Either way, I was consumed by questions and knew I would get my answers soon.

I automatically became proactive. I needed to keep my mind busy and begin the process of letting everyone know, family first. I had to call work and let them know there was no way I would be returning, I didn't have to explain myself. The evening became phone calls and visits to anyone that I could get a hold of, all in a particular order. While the diagnoses was very new and scary, there were a few things I was sure of. One, people needed to hear it from me. And two, no matter what journey lay ahead of me I would need all of their support. There was no time to digest the news, I didn't want to. It felt like every person I told made me feel better. It made it real, but it also reassured me I could do it.

While every survivor clearly remembers the moment they were diagnosed. I assure you the other thing they can't forget is the expression on their loved ones faces. I won't get into the details of how people react to such news. The way people cope is better dealt with another day. But I'll tell you this, being told I had Cancer that day wasn't the hardest part. It was having to come home and tell my husband, see the pain on my fathers face and watch my best friends cry. It was trying to reassure everyone that I would be okay when in fact I had no idea.

I felt a huge sense of relief after everyone had been told. I had done everything I could for the time being. It would be a couple days later I would make my news public and announce it to the Facebook world. For now, I needed to wrap my head around it. I never do anything half ass, I move quickly and get things done. I had been so busy running around telling everyone that I hadn't taken any time for myself. I knew that was the most important.

I went to one of my favourite spots, a beach close to home. I sat in the car and just stared out into the horizon. It was a beautiful sunset that night that bounced along the Bay. I remember thinking that sunset was for me. How poetic it was that I sat and reflected on my life as the sun reflected on the water. It was harder to be by myself at that point. I didn't have to explain information or pretend I was going to be okay. As I sat in my car, music down low, I had only myself to console. I finally allowed myself to cry.

I had no idea what the next year would bring. But I knew that nothing would ever be the same. That in that moment my life had changed forever. I drove away feeling renewed, ready. In a short few hours I had experienced every step of the grieving process. I had gone from denial, anger, depression and everything in between, to finally stumble upon the final stage, acceptance. I was officially a Cancer survivor, day one -complete. I could never anticipate the challenges that lay ahead of me, but I knew I was ready. That with the help of my friends and family, I could do it.

365 days later and I'm continuing to celebrate. Not only my Cancerversary, but each and everyday. We're going out for dinner to commemorate the occasion. It's not every day you beat another year of Cancer. I look forward to many more in the future. But for now, I'll take that damn confetti please!

Tuesday 7 April 2015

A Tale as Old as Time

Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of my diagnoses. My "Cancerversary" if you will. To say that it's making me nostalgic would be an understatement. It's hard to believe that one person can go through so much in such a short period of time. I have to be honest, I barely remember that girl. This experience has changed me in so many ways. Shaped the way I see even the simplest of things. I know it sounds cheesy but Cancer really does give you a new lease on life. When suddenly tomorrow isn't a guarantee, everything becomes brighter, fresher, more beautiful.

This trip down memory lane is the best opportunity for me to tell my story, to start at the beginning. While I promise not to inundate you with all of the dates and details. I feel it's important to share how it all originated.

Despite the way my life has transgressed over the past twelve months, I still remember this day like yesterday. Mom and I had plans to attend another concert. This time it was Cher, (yes I know, she was amazing). As most of you know, we've always shared a special bond. We often refer to each other as "theatre buddies," attending live shows multiple times a year. This occasion was no different, a night out for the two of us.

We had gone through testing a week prior, we knew results were impending but neither of us chose to focus on them. No news is good news right? For now, it was a chance for us to get out, forget about the C word for a few hours. Neither of us could really say it out loud. The idea was outlandish. I remember meeting up with our girlfriend Samantha, for dinner. I let her feel the lump in my chest and then brushed it off. Explaining how much I had been working out, that it had to be caused by muscle or something. Anything to take the focus off Cancer. It's funny the way our defence mechanisms kick in when we need them. In my case, it was always denial and humour.

It's hard to remember much past that moment. I know we had a fantastic evening with lots of laughs. But beyond that, I don't recall much. Like I said, when you receive news like I did, everything else becomes so trivial. I can't imagine what my biggest problems were that day. Probably something to do with my friends or work. Issues I would gladly trade for now in a heartbeat.

It was a year ago today, that I truly enjoyed my last "carefree" evening. I hope to get more of them in the future but as a Cancer survivor you can't help but always wonder and worry. I have moments, even hours, where I forget about the illness. Friends and family prove to be fantastic distractions. But for now I'm grateful for the milestones and memories.

April 7th 2014, still goes down as one of the best nights. I got to spend an evening with my favourite women watching a concert by an equally strong female. I barely remember the blonde girl that stood up and sang "Strong Enough." But as it turns out, those words would resonate with me for the year to come... And even though I'm not that girl anymore, I'm proud of the woman I've become.

Where do I begin?

I'm officially a blogger. A beauty against the beast with a blog for everyone to read. It's taken me a long time to get to this point. For those of you who know me, know I've been very open and honest with my journey since the very beginning. But I've always had a hard time accepting the idea of starting a blog. It's easy to post quick videos, or write status' on Facebook keeping everyone up to date. It's a lot harder to want to share the more intimate details along the way. Writing it all down in such detail makes everything that much more real. I guess a part of me preferred to hide behind the pictures and quick updates. It was easier.

Easy is not a word I use lightly, nor is it one I would chose to describe myself. The way I've been challenged over the past year is exactly the opposite, difficult. I have endured more appointments, tests and life altering decisions then most people experience in their whole lives. While I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy, I'm grateful for type of person it's made me today - strong!  

So, where do I begin? Do I dive into the huge milestones, my favourite moments over the past year, or simply explain more about myself? I guess rather than starting at the "beginning," I should explain why I've decided to start writing. It was always important I share my journey with anyone that would listen. I figured that if this was something I had to go through, that maybe I could help someone else along the way. I hope others seek encouragement in my words and know they're not alone. You don't have to be going through an illness to appreciate that everyone experiences difficulties at some point. I think if we all learned to be a little more honest with each other, life wouldn't be so scary.

I say this all the time, but I'm so grateful to be surrounded by such an amazing support system. While the "thank you" blog, where I gush about how amazing you all are, will have to wait. It's important I recognize that it's a big part of why I'm writing. I've had so many people, friends and strangers included, that have reached out to me in the past year. Always eager to know how I'm feeling, what the next steps are, or when I'm going through treatment. I'm blessed to have so many people truly care about what I'm going through. That genuinely want to share my journey with me.

Moving forward, this is the easiest way to include all of you. But I should warn you, I don't intend to sugar coat my writing. If you want to follow the beauty, I need to feel comfortable sharing the beast. That's not to say I won't be optimistic. I pride myself in being positive and finding silver linings in any situation, I think you have to. But I also need to tell the whole story. It wouldn't be fair to you, other survivors, or myself to do otherwise.

So again, thank you. For all of your encouragement to start a blog, for being so involved in my journey and for truly caring. I hope this outlet is as therapeutic for me as it is interesting for all of you. Like I said when I cut my hair for the very first time (and many occasions since) #fuckcancer