The Big Apple

Tomorrow morning is my 15th scheduled chemotherapy session. I've been off treatment for 5 weeks now, and let me tell you, the break was amazing!

I had forgotten how good, really good, it feels to have less drugs running through my veins. I talk a lot about craving normalcy, wanting to feel like everyone else. That's exactly what the past few weeks have felt like, normal. Actually, better than normal.

I spend so much time preparing for the down days, that when I feel good, I go hard. It's days like that, ones spent with friends and family, that carry me through when I'm stuck in bed or experiencing pain. The memories we created in New York help give me strength moving forward. It reminds me what I'm fighting so hard for, life.

My Mom and Derek had never been to Manhattan so we made sure to hit all of the best tourist sites along the way. It was so important I take a few days and get away. But it was more important that I share the trip with them. We've spent so much time over the past year in hospitals, worrying over scans and preparing for the future that sometimes we forget how to relax.

The first thing we did was venture to the top of the Empire State Building to overlook the whole city. There's something so humbling about watching one of the busiest cities in the world from 86 floors up. I'm terrified of heights, but quickly conquered my fear because lets face it, I've been through worse. I even made sure to take some pictures without any hats or wigs. Sure, I had people stop and stare but I didn't care. In that moment, I stood taller than any skyscraper in New York. I knew what those pictures represented. Yes, I have Cancer, but Cancer doesn't have me.

Despite being given a terrible prognosis only a few months ago, I'm living. Probably more than a lot of people I know. And for the first time since my honeymoon, I was given the opportunity to jump back on a plane and see the world.

Not only did we spend our four days running around the city taking in all of the sites, but I did it like a champ. A month ago I could barely get around my house without the use of a wheelchair. I literally thought I would never walk again. But this past week I climbed the tallest buildings, walked through my favourite museums and strolled through Central Park without any aid.

If I can do that, you guys can do anything.

One of my favourite parts of the trip was being invited backstage after we saw Chicago on Broadway. As you know, Mom and I are huge theatre fans so to be given the opportunity to stand on stage and look out into the audience was amazing! We even got to meet the cast. Not only were they very talented, but so sweet. I realise my friend Sam played the 'Cancer card' in order for the whole thing to come to fruition but that's ok. At first, watching Mom cry on stage hit home as I remembered that I'm sick (I really do forget sometimes) but then I realised I'm allowed to enjoy these moments. Yes, I wouldn't be backstage on Broadway in New York if I wasn't ill. But after everything we've been through, I think it's okay to allow people to do nice things for us. And if I get to meet Brandy, the lead and also one of my favourite singers growing up, then why not enjoy it?

I won't get into every detail from our trip, it would make for a very long blog. But just know that the whole experience really did give me a new lease on life. Feeling the warm breeze from the Ocean on my face as we took the Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, taking a bus tour to watch the sunset over the Brooklyn Bridge and seeing Van Gogh's Starry Night at the Moma (my favourite painting) were just some of my most cherished moments.

More importantly, for four days I barely thought about the big C. Sure, I experienced some pain, pushed too hard and felt tired. But I wasn't worried. I didn't think about appointments, drugs or statistics. Instead, I just enjoyed the time with my family.

 It felt great to laugh, eat and walk around in the city that never sleeps. We didn't get much sleep either, but I don't mind. There will be plenty of time for that in the upcoming days. The break was just what I needed.

I was back at the hospital the morning after we landed home to find out my counts are back up to where they should be. My body is ready to handle the next round of treatment and so am I. It just goes to show you spending time with friends and family really can be the best medicine. Thank you for the memories and much needed rest, but tomorrow we fight!

Thank you and goodnight New York!

Flying High

It's been almost two weeks since I wrote about my scans and fear of impending results. I am happy to report that I received some amazing news - my tumors are shrinking and some previous lesions are no longer visible. To say that the scans were better than I anticipated would be an understatement. Happy Dance!!

It was shortly after my 'scanxiety' post that I received the eagerly anticipated phone call. My husband and I were in Home Depot picking up something (I have no idea what) to help with home renovations. Fixing up the kitchen has proven to be a great distraction for both of us. Anything to keep our minds occupied, even if it is just wondering through stores.

Derek was talking to a cashier when the phone rang. I tried to hide my panic as I stumbled away to the front of the store. My nurse instantly asked if I was sitting down. What?! No, I thought as I quietly found a wheelchair and plopped down. People don't say that for good news right? She quickly put me out of my misery, "you're scans came back, and they're amazing!" I instantly started crying. There's no way to describe the sense of relief that washed over me.

I honestly don't remember what she said in detail. I actually had to ask that she email me some specifics and admitted I had barely processed the phone call. I heard "good" and that's all I needed to hear. To see the look on my husbands face as I smiled through the tears was the best feeling. He quickly knew what it meant, and for the first time in a while, we could both breathe.

I often have to call my friends and family and give them bad news, or post updates on Facebook I'd rather not write. It was so gratifying to retreat to the car that day and share good results with those I love most.

For now, I can breathe a sigh of relief and know that the current 'cocktail' is working. We're headed in the right direction. To know that every 10 hour treatment, and all of the side effects that accompanied them, over the past few months have been helping means everything! This process can sometimes be hit or miss. Not all treatments work, and it can literally mean you're rolling the dice.

All that matters now is that the dice are in my favour. Eventually the Cancer will get smart and outwit my current medicine but currently it's losing the battle. Unfortunately my body can only take so many hits and last week it decided it needs a break. My blood levels dropped too low for treatment (a first for me) so I've had to take a couple weeks off.

At first the news devastated me. I've always been so quick to bounce back despite the high doses of chemotherapy. The idea that my body couldn't handle it scared the crap out of me. I was quickly reassured that this is normal. Eventually everyone needs a break or has to reduce the dose in order to continue. Like I've said before, it's all about finding the right balance.

I have to say, having the extra couple weeks off has been amazing. I'd forgotten how good it can feel to have less poison running through my body. Don't get me wrong, I'm still tired and ache, but there's no comparison. Is this how people are supposed to feel? I had completely forgotten.

I've learned to release some of my stoic control and accept the break. So much so that I finally got to book one of the trips I was looking forward to. I'm currently flying 30,000 ft. in the air with some of the people I love the most, on our way to New York!

I can't wait to take a bite out of the big apple. It's been a long few months and my family and I certainly deserve the break. It'll be nice to be a tourist for a few days and escape for a while.

I used a metaphor in my last entry comparing scans to jumping out of a plane. Well, not only did my parachute open but I've been given the opportunity to literally soar through the clouds. Let me tell you, the view is amazing!

Scanxiety

Yesterday I had my first CT scan in over two months. The first one since I was accepted into clinical trial and started my new "chemo cocktail". I refer to it as a cocktail because the idea of a fancy mixed drink sounds much more appealing then a combination of poison running through my veins.

Testing and scans become a regular activity for any Cancer survivor, constantly checking to see how treatment is working, or how your body is being affected. But for those of us with metastasized disease these visits can become a frequent occurrence. In my case, every three months.

Cancer has the ability to take over your life and consume your thoughts. Always trying to regain control and plan ahead, while constantly battling the uncertainty of what the future might hold. Most of us know that we literally live from scan to scan. Our results can determine if we're moving in the right direction, shrinking tumours and delaying progression, or if life as we know it will soon be over.

Nothing is worse than what we refer to as 'scanxiety' which is exactly what it sounds like. The fear and anxiety that comes before, during, and after our scans.

Ever have those days where you literally can't turn your mind off? Whether it's something like your job or a bad break up? That ever consuming dread that's associated with your worst case scenario. Will I get fired? Are they breaking up with me? Well consider that, then multiply it by A LOT. Because lets be honest, our worst case scenario doesn't get much scarier.

Everyday we are fighting for our lives. And don't get me wrong, there are good days and bad. You learn to cherish those precious moments and forget about the tough times. But I assure you, nothing is more scary then waiting for the impending results. Unfortunately, it never gets any easier.

The best thing you can do is distract your mind. Easier said then done, but I've learned a few tricks over the past year that help aid the process. I wont get into my list of top ten distractions today, but the idea is simple - try to focus on something, anything but the idea of progression.

I talk a lot about tempering expectations, preparing yourself for the worst. So that if it actually happens it won't hurt as bad. The problem with that is even when we receive good news, we spend so much time worrying about the bad that it can be hard to enjoy the good.

I know it can be the hardest thing to do, but you need to stay positive. Border line delusional, mind numbingly optimistic. Because there just can't be another alternative.

I'm always so grateful for my support system. Every friend and family member sending me positive vibes. I take every good thought and prayer and store it deep down. I feed off that energy. I use humour to try and flip even the worst situations. There are times when I don't even believe it myself, but there just has to be a silver lining.

 It's like every three months I jump out of a plane. I spend weeks anticipating the flight -adrenaline pumping, short of breath and preparing for the unknown. But it doesn't matter how many practice sessions we do, there's no way to predict what's going to happen. So instead I just jump. I take a deep breath and plunge into the cold air, hoping for the best. Because that's all I can do, hope. I free fall through the sky and pray that my parachute will catch me. That I'll be able to sail safely a while longer.

Because let's be honest, it's happened before. My parachute didn't release and I've never fallen so hard and fast in my life. I don't know how many more times I can hit the ground and get back up. So I try to keep myself from shaking and crying. There's just no other alternative, I need to believe that I'll be carried in the right direction. That I'll feel instant relief as my backpack tugs me back up in the sky. I know I'll have to jump again in three months, and it will be just as scary... But for now, please, let me catch my breath and enjoy the horizon.

Almost famous?

Some people dream their whole lives about being famous. To see their name displayed in lights, or spread across a headline of a newspaper. I was never one of those individuals. I pride myself in enjoying the simpler things in life. Good friends, a hot bath and a quiet book.

I've had one hell of a year, but last week was by far one of the most surreal moments of my life. I've always been very open and honest about my journey but I never could've anticipated the kind of response I've received. You can imagine my surprise when I had a friend message to tell me I was featured on People.com between the Princess and Drew Barrymore, "what?!"

Like I said, some people search their whole lives for that kind of 'celebrity status' whether they've achieved it by demonstrating great talent or simply marrying rich, to each their own. I never expected to be in the spotlight, especially because I have Cancer. When did Nicole Jannis become so famously known as the "girl that could?"

I'm honoured that people have found my story so inspiring. It's amazing that journalists have taken an interest and are helping me share my journey with others. Most people would jump at the opportunity to be given such a platform. But with a voice, a steady climbing audience and new found stardom comes a certain level of responsibility. What do I want to say?

I'm grateful for the thousands of friend requests I've received over the past week, the millions of views and all the positive feedback and comments. But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't overwhelming. Within one week I was featured on HLN, Yahoo Canada, People and Time. That's unbelievable!

I wont get into the details of that video, you've all seen it by now, the one they love to screenshot for all the articles (love midsentence pictures). I filmed it 24 hours after being told my Cancer had advanced to stage 4 and spread through out my body. It's so surreal to imagine that only a few months ago I was given the most devastating information of my life, and now that video is being viewed by millions of people. To think, when I started this, it was just a way for me to share my news. And now, I'm the one being featured on the news.

It's been over a year since I made my first video (days after I was originally diagnosed) of me chopping off my hair and declaring "fuck cancer" for the very first time. In the beginning, the videos were just for me. I found it empowering to take charge and prove to the world that I could fight back. Social media was as much of a distraction as it was the easiest way to keep in contact with my friends and family.

Doing interviews, speaking on camera and giving speeches at large functions became an overnight norm for me. Sharing my journey was just as important as fighting it. I always believed that if this was something I had to go through, maybe I could help someone. It's easier to believe that, that maybe everything happens for a reason. That I was given this battle so that something greater might come of it.

Well a lot of good certainly has come of it. Through out this journey I've had the opportunity to meet more people than I would've ever thought possible. I want to personally thank every journalist, photographer and member of the media that has reached out over the past year. That have not only found my story inspirational, but have done an amazing job sharing it.

One of my favourite photographers became renowned for taking pictures of other celebrities. Annie Leibovitz once said, "I'm more interested in being good than famous." I think that's very true of her work, it's beautiful and speaks for itself.

I'm not trying to compare myself to one of the best photographers of our time, but I resonate with what she's trying to say. It's more important to me that I help raise awareness, share my story, and inspire others than being featured on any leading website. But I'm grateful for the opportunity.

I can only hope that you all continue to find my story inspiring. I've been so blessed to meet amazing survivors that help empathise with this diagnoses better than anyone. I'm honored they can relate to my entries and articles, I hope I do them justice.

Perhaps last week was just my '15 minutes of fame' and I'm okay with that. I never thought I would be known as the positive girl fighting Cancer, but that's what I am, a fighter. Despite the fact that this whole experience is a little overwhelming, I'm willing to accept it and keep trying. If just one person reads these articles and it helps change their life, then it's all worth it.

I may never see my name across a billboard, or sign a record deal, but I'm okay with that. I'm honored to be the 'girl that could.' I promise to continue my battle the only way I know how, with positivity, humour, and all of you. And maybe one day I'll be the 'girl that did.'

I've posted some of the links below if you'd like to check them out. I should warn you, I'm trying to keep it real and my quotes are a little unorthodox, but so am I. Please don't wash my mouth out with soap.

https://ca.news.yahoo.com/blogs/dailybrew/terminal-at-twenty-nine--cancer-patient-nicole-jannis-candidly-speaks-out-on-the-realities-of-dying-young-124940352.html

http://time.com/3839453/nicole-jannis-stage-4-cancer/?xid=fbshare

http://www.hlntv.com/video/2015/04/22/inspirational-cancer-patient-journey

http://www.people.com/article/nicole-jannis-stage-4-cancer-still-fighting-feisty

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.

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!

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.