Three Sick Mexicans

All my life, I seem to have had an innate ability to continually self-scrutinize using the measuring stick of other people. Invariably, I come up short, which has jam-packed by soul and spirit with negative core beliefs including a feeling of never being good enough. I've also come to the realization that, as a result, I am always making excuses ... sometimes just to myself and, often, to others, craving their validation that I really am OK.

When I began RunClub, my daughter showed me an app called "Strava", where a person can record their walks, runs, and bike rides (it uses GPS to track your route), including split times and personal records you've set.  After a run or bike, if my time/kilometer wasn't what I had hoped, I would title the activity with an excuse -- For example, "Man was it windy today", "Just didn't have it!", or "High Alberta altitude". Why can't I just be proud of what I accomplished??

Last week, a few minutes after our morning workout started with Vicky, her cell phone rang. A fellow-exerciser and owner of a local farm, texted that he had "3 sick Mexicans" and wouldn't be at workout that morning. For him, it's an extremely legitimate reason to not be at workout, but I chuckled out loud because of my recent ah-haa moment about my own battle with excuses.

A reality-TV junkie, one of my favourite shows is The Biggest Loser. On last week's episode, one of the trainers told a contestant, "Tell your mind to get out of your body's way!" This really struck home with me since it is my mind that creates these convoluted excuses -- either as an escape mechanism to NOT complete a workout, or afterwards to justify a less-than-perfect performance.

Recently, when I celebrated my 56th birthday, my daughter, Esther, gave me a beautiful painting she created. Tears streamed down my face as I read the saying she chose to capture the essence of how she sees me.

If my precious daughter, Esther, believes this to be true of her mother, then her mother better start believing it herself!!

For several months now, I have been doing personal work with a counselor to begin chipping away at my negative core beliefs, and replacing them with positive core beliefs so I'm no longer making excuses or requiring external validation for my self-worth. It sure is a process though, but one I'm willing to continue working on.

Run for the Cure

I'm running for ME!!!

and

I'm running for YOU!!!

Yes, that invigorating, motivating day is fast approaching again... Sunday, October 5th is "Run for the Cure" day.

I'm not feeling quite as mentally or physically prepared as I was last year, but I still have 8 days to get there. So much for my dreams and plans to have a HUGE team this year, to feel more part of the pink-party, celebratory atmosphere that pervades Riverside Park in Kamloops. My sister, Maureen, is unable to make it this year, so it's daughter, Esther, and I that will be donned in pink duds and ready to walk/run our way around the 5 km course.

I've done an abysmal job at fundraising, as well. Here I am at the 11th hour, calling on my blog friends (aka ... you!!) to donate to the cause online. Here's a link if you're interested in donating CIBC Run for the Cure. Simply click on the dark purple "DONATE" box and search for my name (Yvonne Eaglestone). Every dollar is greatly appreciated!!! 

I thought I'd pass along a bit of information about the success of last year's run and what the foundation does with the funds raised ...

"Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure is Canada's largest single-day, volunteer-led event dedicated to raising funds for breast cancer research, education, and awareness programs. Founded by a small group of volunteers, its purpose has been to raise awareness and funds for the breast cancer cause. Since its inception, the CIBC Run for the Cure has made great strides in expanding its reach and impact, while remaining true to its grassroots and volunteer founders’ vision.


In 66 communities across Canada, 130,000 participants gathered for the 2013 Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure to help raise $27 million for the breast cancer cause. Dollars raised through the CIBC Run for the Cure help fund innovative research, health education, and advocacy programs that aim to reduce the incidence and mortality rates of breast cancer and help support women and their families who have experienced the disease. Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation is extremely grateful for this support and is honoured to be entrusted by the nation to continue to lead the way towards our vision of creating a future without breast cancer."

I'm wanting to continue doing my part to ensure a future without breast cancer ... for everyone!

I Can Smell Routine Just Around the Corner

I simply could NOT contain my excitement when I woke up on Tuesday morning to the welcome news that the B.C. teachers had reached a tentative agreement with the government! I happened to be visiting in Smithers -- a whirlwind trip that covered exactly 39 hours, counting 19 hours of driving, from my door, back to my door. While there, I was hanging out with a friend who is a fellow teacher. Needless to say, we were listening to the news constantly, anxious for an encouraging update saying we would soon have a pay cheque again.

In no way do I intend for this to be a "pro-union" or "anti-government" blog, so will refrain from expressing my personal opinion on the entire matter. The sparse details are that the teachers had begun rotating strikes mid-May, went to full withdrawal of services mid-June, and here we are in mid-September still doing our 4 daily hours of picket duty. UGH!!!! I just want to teach kids!

September is like New Years for me. It's the "fresh start", "back to routine", "jump into another school year with both feet" kind of time. Likely due to my A-type personality -- I thrive on routine!  Now, don't get me wrong. I also cherish summer vacation -- the boundless freedom of sleeping in (ya right!), traveling where I want, when I want, and increased opportunities to see family and friends. However, about mid-August, my brain cells do an about-face, intrinsically focusing on school, planning subjects, and arranging classrooms.

It's now 7:45 p.m., and the union vote results are expected in the next few hours. I'm anticipating a reluctant "yes" vote, which would send teachers back to classrooms tomorrow, with students following suit on Monday. 

I will be thankful to return to routine, to structure, to the familiar. 

On Monday morning, I will ...

and, yes, there will be many cups of java required as well :)

So ... about those lumps and bumps

W-a-a-a-a-y back on July 1, I wrote about two different "lumps" my oncologists were concerned about.  Well, the story of these two sets of lumps mushroomed into an entire summer saga.

First, the simpler story of the small, soft lumps on my forearms, back, and under my ribs. Initially, I had shown these new growths to Dr. C., my radiation oncologist, in Kelowna. Suspecting they were "lipomas", he wanted a biopsy of one on my forearm to confirm. The next day, the oncologist in Kamloops suggested removing an entire lump and having pathology done on it "just to be sure". While waiting for the phone to ring about an appointment with my initial surgeon, Dr. L-S, I lost count of the number of phone calls from Kelowna and Kamloops Cancer Agencies wondering why they didn't have results from either a biopsy or lump removal procedure. Am I supposed to be the go-between here? Seems to me that with modern computer technology, those sites should have been communicating with each other to get the scoop on what was happening. Apparently, no one bothered to inform Dr. C's office that I was no longer getting a biopsy done and I kept getting scolding voice mails to quit avoiding the hospital's calls and get the biopsy completed. Eventually, I saw Dr. L-S in late August when she confirmed (by physical examination only) that all of these new lumps are indeed fatty cysts called lipomas -- non-cancerous, nothing to worry about, just annoying lumps. If you are interested in self-diagnosing any lipomas, here is some more info. Lipoma Information

Second, the more complicated story of the lump by my mastectomy scar. Relatively speaking, the system moved FAST on this lump, which sets a cancer survivor's mind a-racing!

July 18th arrived -- the day of my ultrasound.  Now, an ultrasound is no big deal -- no scary tube to be maneuvered into, no Ativan to hide under the tongue for relaxation. It's merely some mucky goop on the skin, a "wand", and a computer screen. Once the ultrasound technician had clicked away taking pictures of the suspect area, she left the room to make sure the computer images were readable. While she was gone, I decided to be a non-compliant patient and sit up to check out what was on the screen. She had not one, but two, lesions listed beside the image, as well as measurements for each one. TWO LESIONS!!! I knew from past experience that "lesions" was NOT a word I wanted to hear. Laying back down, my thoughts started racing. The brain is an amazing, intricately-designed machine; however, it can also be a relentless, untameable beast. The latter was the case while I lay on the ultrasound table waiting for the tech to return to the room. Launching myself directly to "worst case scenario", I had both of the lesions being cancerous tumors. As tears rolled slowly out of the corner of my eyes and directly into my ears, a myriad of questions raced across my thoughts. How would I tell my girls my breast cancer had returned? Would I opt for chemo again or try medical marijuana or juicing? Would I need to have a ray-stay in Kelowna for more radiation treatments? All these fears and questions were compounded by the fact that when the tech returned she was followed closely by the radiologist! This is NEVER a good sign!!

The radiologist took over as wand-operator and located the "lesions" on the computer screen. Puzzled, he admitted he did not know what he was looking at ... "Could be scar tissue. Could be a blood vessel, could be ..., could be ..." Reassuring me these lesions did not have cancerous characteristics, he advised me that Dr. P would get a full report, but he was quite sure they were nothing to worry about.

On July 30th, when I arrived at Dr. P's office, I learned an MRI had been ordered to try to determine what these lesions actually were. HATE, HATE, HATE MRI's!!! Ativan definitely required! I endured the metal coffin on August 26th, and arrived at my surgeon's office later in the day to learn that, according to the radiologist's calculations, the lesions were thickened scar tissue and were nothing to worry about.

RELIEF!!!

Being caught in the whirlwind of constant phone calls, scans, MRI's, and doctor appointments had me teetering on the edge for several weeks through July and August. Feeling like I had been transported back to my post-diagnosis days, I found myself crying constantly, overwhelmed, and confused. Thank you to those of you who stood by me during this stressful time, reassuring me with undying support and love.

I'm definitely praying that every 6-month check-up does NOT  hold this much excitement ... or fear!!

"Feed your faith, and your fears will starve to death."

                                                                                                                        Author Unknown

Autumn

Cool crispness hangs in the morning air,
Tinges of yellow appear on poplar leaves,
Juicy melons are harvested from farmers' fields ...

it's autumn!

Where did that summer go??

I do realize that I've been noticeably absent for the past many months. However, I will not apologize, I will simply explain that there was so much life happening that writing my blog wasn't even a tiny "blip" on my radar screen.

Some weeks it was visiting family in Alberta, some weeks it was camping with no electricity or internet, some weeks it was treasuring the sound of my children's laughter and enjoying ALL FOUR of my daughters being together in my home and at my dad's 92nd birthday party.

It is only now, starting to let my fingers dance across this keyboard and letting my thoughts change gears to my cancer fight (I DO have some updates to tell you about), that I realize, "I have missed writing my blog!"

Well, I'm back ... 

Check-up, Check-up ... Check

Dr. C., Radiation Oncologist, Kelowna

The drive from Ashcroft to Kelowna, via Merritt to pick up David's aunt, was uneventful and fairly stress-free.  However, as we left our favourite Thai restaurant after lunch and headed towards the Cancer Agency, my brain was a jumbled mess of emotions. I did my utmost to scurry and duck, trying to avoid the inevitable anxiety of retracing last summer's steps to the scene of so many dates with the radiation machine. Somehow, I just couldn't shake this unsettling apprehension that started deep in my gut and was soon in every cell in my body.

Leaving the car and making my way into the building, my brain couldn't quite process the sensations and nervousness. "This world feels unreal," I thought, like it wasn't me, but rather someone pretending to be me walking down the hallway towards the waiting room. Watching in fascination, my alter ego observed baldness, skin-covered skeletons, and faces etched with deep lines of worry. That was me, not too long ago! Remembrances of my 28 visits haunted me and, suddenly, intrusive speculations of recurrence washed over me.  Would my cancer return? Would I have to lay still on the radiation table once again?

Hearing my name called by the nurse gave me a jolt back to reality -- time to go chat with Dr. C.

After a quick catch-up chat, Dr. C. recorded a detailed history of my last year and then gave me a thorough physical exam. I pointed out all the new "lumps" my body seems to be producing, and he decided a biopsy would be a good idea, just to be safe. Every doctor's precautionary thinking gives me such reassurance that if anything does go amiss (aka ... recurrence), it would be caught very early. Dr. C. reassured me that my lumps (on my forearms, back, and a nice arch of them under my rib cage), do not feel like cancer. Cancer is rock hard - these are soft and mushy; cancer is immovable - these are movable; cancer is painful when pressed - I feel no pain with these lumps. But ... let's err on the side of caution. Ultrasound-guided biopsy ordered.


Dr. P., Oncologist, Kamloops

I was extremely disappointed when the Kamloops Cancer Clinic called to say Dr. P. was not able to see me and that another oncologist would be doing my check-up. Dr. P. and I know each other -- he knows my case inside out, I know his quiet but thorough manner. However, Dr. T. was the epitome of thoroughness, having read every page of my 2" thick file and double-checking that no liver scans or the likes had to be followed up on. Surprisingly, there was already a note in my Kamloops file about my visit to Dr. C. the day before, so Dr. T. examined my lumps to offer her opinion. Although she agreed that they did not have cancer-like characteristics, she felt it best to have an entire lump removed from my forearm and sent for pathology -- another cautious oncologist -- yay! The order for the biopsy was cancelled, and a referral to my original surgeon was initiated. During her physical examination, Dr. T. felt a tiny lump close to my armpit, right at the end of my mastectomy scar. Although likely scar tissue, or a lymph node trying to repair itself, carefulness reigned once more and an ultrasound of the area was ordered. Oh great -- more medical appointments to attend!

While doing some research a few months back, I had learned (and later asked Maureen) about a blood test for tumour markers. A tumour marker is a naturally occurring substance in the body that, if present in increased amounts, can indicate the presence of a cancer. Some tumour markers are specific to one type of cancer, while others are related to several different types of cancer. Wanting to do every little thing I can to know if cancer is regrowing in my body, I decided to ask Dr. T. about the blood test. David even thought if I had to go the "private clinic" route to obtain the test, it was worth whatever cost was associated with the test. Dr. T. explained to me that the reason the blood test is not routinely done is that the results can be very inaccurate. You see, tumour markers may increase even with non-cancerous conditions. If the results come back indicating increased tumour markers in the blood, a person would be put through a gamut of scans and tests only to discover the test results were inaccurate and no cancer exists. Likewise, results can come back as "false-normal". I decided to trust the professionals, stick to doing my routine check-ups and mammograms, and forget about an inaccurate blood test.

If you are interested in doing more reading about the tumour marker blood test, here is a link to the Canadian Cancer Society's website, Tumour Marker Tests.

Even though my two check-ups resulted in two more procedures being ordered, it is a relief to have them out of the way. I'm definitely not concerned about either the lump pathology or the ultrasound. These oncologists do not beat around the bush to make patients feel better -- they call it like it is. Since neither doctor seemed alarmed, I won't be either.

On with my summer plans :) 

To Nipple or Not to Nipple?? -- That is the Question

Upon entering Dr. M's office for my post-reconstruction check-up, I presumed he would check out his handiwork, feel around for my "cord", and send me on my way. Little did I know I would have yet another decision to consider.

He was extremely pleased with how both of my incisions were looking and encouraged me to keep up with my downward massage which aids the implant with dropping into place within its pocket. After several minutes of examination, Dr. M pronounced my cord to be gone ... cured ... no more! I guess that's why I hadn't noticed any discomfort for quite some time. Dr. M went on to explain that loads of research has been done on this so-called "Mondor's Disease" and no conclusive answer has been found. Perhaps this is why I seemed to get varying answers when I was initially investigating as to what the rope under my skin was. Some schools of thought are that the cords are indeed veins, while other professionals feel the cords are part of the lymphatic system that has been disturbed during surgery. Whatever the case, I was overjoyed that my two cords have strummed their last chord, and have exited stage right.

Next order of business -- do I want a nipple (sorry guys!!)??

Apparently, about 50% of women choose NOT to worry about a nipple post-reconstruction.  Within the remaining 50%, about half of those choose actual reconstruction of a nipple created by making a small incision and pulling a bit of muscle tissue through the opening.  To my way of thinking, the major issue with this type of "nipple" is that it NEVER goes away! It wouldn't just be noticeable when cold, etc., it would be noticeable 100% of the time.  NO THANKS to that option!!  The other half of the 50% opts to have a 3-D nipple and areola tattooed onto their reconstructed site. What for? I simply don't get it. Since I have a chosen profession that I quite enjoy, and don't plan on posing nude anytime soon -- NO THANKS to that option, also!!

By default, I'm in the 50% of women who choose not to worry about a nipple. I've breast-fed four babies, so that cancer-filled, life-sucking nipple has done the job it was created for and can now be gone forever. 

Easy decision!!

"My New Peace" -- a poem

You must all be sick and tired of hearing me write about running, eh??

Well, TOO BAD!! ... as I rocked on my deck with my morning java yesterday, prior to going to RUNClub, I realized that it was the last official RUNClub I would attend before summer break. I've made the most exciting plans to be in Alberta with my family next weekend, so I'll miss the final session. That got me pondering how I feel when I run, how running has changed my life, and how I want to keep moving ... "Movement is Change". Desiring to find some way to say thank you to Jo Berry, our main coach, a poem started tumbling out of my soul and onto paper. Thought I'd share it with you ...

For Jo,           

June 21, 2014

My New Peace

Lacing up my pink Mizuno’s,

Music blaring, legs and lungs pumping,

I’m off …

Kilometers covered and energy dwindling,

My meandering maze through town ends

With a sharp turn towards the river.

Smacking into God's majestic beauty,

I’m forced to stop, to connect, to reflect.

A picnic table becomes my viewing platform

As deep examination begins.

I hear the slippery, silver sound of

Thompson water tumbling by.

See exquisite fingerlings intricately etched

Into hoodoo walls.

A camper’s bacon breakfast fills my nostrils

With familiar memories.

Tastes of childhood, laughter … life.

Refreshed by a spray of water,

I rise to leave … transformed.

Observing through a different lens –

One shaped with appreciation, wonder … awe.

“Don’t miss this!”, I teach myself.

“Run with open eyes!”

“Live with an open heart!”

Returning home, I notice

A drop of dew sparkles on each perfect pansy face

As they stand like palace guards protecting my home.

… I almost missed it.

                                                      Yvonne Eaglestone

                                                                                                             June 21, 2014

Enjoy your day, all of you. Happy Sunday :)

Carry On

Being a firm believer in the fact that we are given the right words for someone at exactly the right time ... this is for a special someone out there, but I don't know who you are :)

As I was running this morning, one of the songs on my playlist came on that I only recently added -- "Carry On", by Fun. Not only does it have a perfectly-timed beat to keep me running at the right pace, but it speaks of our feet on the ground, and to carry on putting one foot in front of the other. Many, many mornings I need this literal inspiration to keep me carrying on running.

The lyrics in the chorus of this song are
     If you're lost and alone
     Or you're sinking like a stone
     Carry on.
     May your past be the sound
     Of your feet upon the ground
     Carry on.


However, I also take from the song a less-literal, more-inspirational message. Easier said than done, we all need to continue placing one foot in front of the other, no matter what we are facing. There were sooooo many days, about a year ago, when I didn't want to open my eyes in the morning, let alone get out of bed to put my feet on the ground. Yet, here I am, all these months later, trying my best to live each and every day to the fullest.

You just do it! You force yourself to get up. You force yourself to put one foot in front of the other, and you refuse to let cancer (or anything else) get to you. You fight! You cry! You pray! Then, you get on with the business of living. You have to! There's no other way!!

 

 

Please, please carry on!! And, if there's anything I can do to help you carry on, just say the word ...

 

 

If you'd like to have a listen to Fun. sing "Carry On", here's a link "Carry On"

New Name!

Good afternoon, my friends, family, and faithful readers. After several heartfelt apologies for NOT talking about breast cancer in several posts, it has been suggested to me a few times over that I could change the title of my blog to be more about my life, in general.

It is true, that from September 2012 to August 2013, battling breast cancer WAS my life! However, feeling like I'm out the other side of the danger zone, I'm all about just living each day to the fullest.

In my intense desire to continue writing this blog, I decided to change "Yvonne's Breast Cancer Blog" (who thought up that unimaginative name??) to "The Life & Times of a Breast Cancer Survivor". That way, on the days when I have no symptoms, check-ups, side effects, or other breast-related topics to cover, I can still write ... about me, about my life.

My strong hope is that you will continue to read, even on the days when I'm just rambling about running or conversing about camping.

Life's Uncertainties

Realizing I've been noticeably absent from doing any writing for weeks (yikes!!), I thought it high time to say Hi once again. The last fourteen days have been consumed with illness, anxiety, and uncertainty.

First, let me update you on how "Skip's Run" went on June 1. Having made a pact that we would run together, Alexine (a fellow morning workout and RUNClubber) and I lined up at the start line. I was filled with trepidation because, although our "Boogie the Bridge" times were very similar, I knew Alexine was a much stronger runner than I, and she had decided we should do 10-1 run-walk cycles. To say I was worried is putting it mildly. However, off we sprinted, covering the first kilometre in record speed. The quick pace took its toll on me as, after only two cycles, I could feel my energy level dropping like a runaway elevator.  With a devoted running partner and excellent motivator, I crossed the finish line 10 km and 1 hour 7 minutes later. Another major accomplishment!

The day before Skip's Run, I could feel my body succumb to a cold bug David had brought home from up north. An irritated, scratchy throat accompanied me along the entire run route and, by Monday morning, I felt miserable. It takes a lot for me to ditch on a morning workout, but I just couldn't drag my sorry body out of bed to get to group workout or go running the entire week.

Wells Gray Provincial Park beckoned us to come visit last weekend, so we donned our camping duds, threw in all the camping gear -- or so we thought -- stocked up on Halls, Neocitran, sinus medication, and kleenex, and headed off for our first camping trip of the season. Unfortunately, our Friday departure caused me to miss Saturday's RUNClub session, but I wasn't convinced my body was ready to run anyways.

We saw this cute little guy on our way to the campsite.
I love seeing bears from inside a vehicle!!

Remember, we thought we threw in all the camping gear?
Well, we (David) forgot the tent, so this was our home-away-from-home.

Spectacular and stunning ...
Helmcken Falls

The last few weeks have also been wrought with stress -- that 'knot-in-your-stomach', 'sleepless-night' kind of stress -- because of the impending strike by my teachers' union. I refuse to go into the gory details on a breast cancer blog, but suffice it to say that such levels of anxiety are NOT good for my health. Even as I write at this very moment, I am waiting for word as to whether or not school is on for the last two weeks of the year, or whether I'll be sipping coolers in my bikini (HA!) a little early this year. My 'uncertainty meter' is way past capacity, with the suspense just about putting me over the edge.

Tomorrow marks the start of my 6-month check-ups, and I am off to Kamloops for a visit with Dr. M, my plastic surgeon. Although the cord is still noticeable under my skin, the discomfort seems to have dissipated -- either that, or it's become so commonplace I don't notice it any more. My incisions look fantastic, and I'm expecting a good report from him.  Next week brings my two oncologist appointments, and I will admit they bring with them a level of fear and uncertainty.

**********************

I was overjoyed this week to talk to someone whose relative reads and enjoys this blog. My ongoing hope is that it will encourage someone along their journey, bring a smile to a face, or perhaps just let them realize we all have trials and tribulations.

My apologies that this post doesn't have much to do with being a breast cancer survivor. It's just about life :) 

"National Cancer Survivors Day"

It was not until I read an email from the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation on Friday, that I realized today -- June 1, 2014 -- is "National Cancer Survivors Day".

Ironically, today is also the day I will run my second 10 km race. Every June 1, in our little desert town, Ashcroft hosts "Skip's Run Along the River" -- a charity run to honour a long-time resident and Lions member who passed away after a long battle with cancer. I'm running today because Skip can no longer run. I'm running today because I'm alive, and I can!

Celebrate life today ...

• if you're a survivor ... you are not a victim, you made it! Congratulations! Treasure every moment!
• if you know a survivor ... congratulate them, encourage them, say you're proud of them! Trust me, they need it!

The more you celebrate life, the more there is to celebrate in life.

ENJOY!!

Running for the Soul

There's a running gear store in Kamloops called "Runner's Sole", which boasts the slogan "Putting Feet First" -- although they sell every little thing a runner could ever want to be well-outfitted. This is the store where I was fitted for my beautiful pink Mizuno runners shortly after I joined RUNClub.

However, yesterday, as my running club chatted and encouraged our way along Barnes Lake, just southeast of Ashcroft, I was concentrating on this runner's soul. I shutter at the thought of sounding cliche or trite, but running is so good for my soul -- therapeutic, peaceful, community, motivating.

Since I am running another 10 km charity run this morning, I dropped down a group and ran with the 6-7 km group yesterday. Being slightly worried about even doing that since one of RUNClub's philosophies for staying injury-free is never to run two days in a row, I really took it easy, giving me ample time to enjoy my beautiful surroundings and the people I was with.

Here are a few photo memories of our beautiful morning ...

Did you think this photo was upside down??

Nope, it's the billowy clouds reflected in the glass-like lake ...

only disturbed by the paddling feet of this goose couple

with about 15 little goslings protected between them.

Can you see why the run was good for my soul?

Look at this evidence of God's handiwork!

Our little 6-7 km group

... minus Donna who took the picture

when our many attempts at a selfie didn't work :) 

Tracy, in the pink shirt, is one of our coaches.

Whatever you're doing today,

do it with your eyes wide open, looking up.

Enjoy the beauty around you!!

6-Month Check Up Time

As we prepare to close the doors on May, and merrily dance through to June -- I must be a teacher, or something!! -- I notice an unsightly number of doctor visits penned in on my calendar. The dreaded 6-month check up point has reared its ugly head to remind me I'm a cancer survivor. Admittedly, marching alongside the looming appointments is a level of fear and trepidation -- one's nerves would have to be made of steel for this not to be the case.

Least stressful will be my visit with Dr. M, my plastic surgeon. Although I only deserve a bare pass as a grade because of my minimal adherence to the massage instructions to help my implant drop into place, my incision looks fantastic. Good 'ole Mr. Mondor and his lovely "cord" continue to reek havoc with my stomach-sleep and reaching up on top shelves but, in general, all is well in the reconstruction department.

This will be the last in a long series of check-ups with Dr. C, my radiation oncologist, in Kelowna. Always personable, he takes the time to chat about the rest of my life, not just the slightly-red rectangle that has taken up residence over my right chest. Yes, I'm anticipating a wee bit of a lecture because of the golden-brown hue that always starts to develop as I soak up the therapeutic rays of the sun. "Limit your sun exposure!", is Dr. C's non-stop mantra, and I respond with "Ya, ya, ya", like any other post-lecture child.

Lastly, I will traipse into the office of Dr. P, my Kamloops oncologist. This is the visit I dread the most. Pleasant and kind, Dr. P is also the epitome of thoroughness both with questions and physical exams. This quality leaves my brain in a quandary of polar opposites -- the yin and yang of post-cancer check-ups. The dark, negative yin holds onto fear, dread, and "what if's"; yet the light, positive yang is reassured and breathes a sigh of relief that any further cancer would be caught early and stopped dead in its tracks.

I'm anticipating a day when each and every twinge or pain does NOT bring the instant, "Is it back??" question.

I'm anticipating a day when cancer's walk through my life will be such a faint memory that it could almost be erased like footprints in the wet sand ...

  

Cords of Discomfort

For the past several weeks, I have been experiencing a fair bit of discomfort when reaching up over my head with my right arm -- the same side that is lacking a natural breast. Initially, I attributed my soreness to having pushed too hard to complete push-ups or planks during morning workout, or perhaps over-jiggling during a run. However, the stretching and pulling sensation continued to worsen until I made an astonishing discovery last weekend. I actually have what feels like a cord or rope right under the surface of my skin running from under my breast to my waist.

It does seem rather unfair that, just when I contemplate settling down to "normal" life, another complication arrives to shatter my world, rather like the proverbial pie-in-the-face.

Why didn't my plastic surgeon inform me that a common complication following any breast surgery is something called "cording" or "Mondor's disease"?? Mondor's disease is the inflammation, thrombosis and fibrosis of small veins, caused when veins are cut while making the incisions necessary for reconstruction of the breast.

While googling, "Why do I appear to have a rope under my skin??", most websites showed gruesome pictures of "cords" running through the armpit after lymph node removal following a mastectomy. Thank heaven I didn't experience that! It took a bit more perseverance to locate information about cording starting under the breast and heading south.

The receptionist at Dr. M's office wasn't surprised at all when I described my symptoms to her, and confirmed that it is indeed Mondor's disease. She suggested massage, warm compresses, and ibuprofen. I've tried to remember the massage part, and it does help quite a bit. Being a stomach sleeper, the worst pain happens when I roll onto my stomach while asleep and reach my arm up to cushion my head. That pain is intense enough to wake me up.

Apparently, the cordS -- yes, I have two now -- should resolve themselves within one to six grueling months.

The pessimist in me begs the question, "What next??".

The optimist responds . . .

  

The Right Side of the Grass

After a marathon day on Thursday, I am pleased as punch to report that my mom's surgery went extremely well -- we got "best case scenario" results -- so far!

After reporting for duty at 6 a.m., my 86-year old, impatient mom, couldn't understand why we were still sitting in chairs in the surgery waiting room at 6:10. Thankful that I had so recently been the patient, I explained to her that the medical system is often a "hurry up and wait" situation. (If I had a dime for every hour I "waited" for a medical appointment or procedure, we could ALL retire!) By 8 a.m., after paperwork, gowning up, and a talk with the surgeon, mom was being wheeled away to the OR.

In the unusual position of not being the patient, I was quite out of sorts, both because of my new job description -- read, wait, pace, pray, read, worry, pray some more -- but also since I couldn't really seem to focus on any task, expectantly wanting, yet not wanting, my cell phone to ring. At least I found a gorgeous garden (with extremely uncomfortable cement benches) in which to wait and contemplate life. The blazing sun was immensely therapeutic and I soaked up a few too many rays (sorry, Dr. Chowdhury -- I know I promised you I'd watch my sun exposure).

About 11, we got word that mom was out of the OR and in the recovery room. Maureen, who had toddled off to do a few errands, returned and we headed up to the now-crowded waiting room. Since Maureen has worked at the Trail hospital for many decades, she is well known in the building. Unofficial reports via nurses she knew were that mom had done well in the operating room, and would be 1-2 hours in recovery. At the 3 hour mark, we began to worry that things were going south. I even joked about signing mom up for the paraplegic basketball team if the epidural had gone wrong. At the 4 hour mark, Maureen asked a nurse to go investigate and, shortly after, mom was wheeled down the hallway to her room.

Groggy, incoherent, and frail, Mom had made it through step 1 of her battle -- removing a large cancerous tumour, several lymph nodes, and several blood vessels. Unfortunately, my dad did not understand that mom's condition was a result of anesthetic and, when I brought him to the hospital later in the afternoon, convinced himself she was dying. Thankfully, she was perkier and more talkative when we visited yesterday, reassuring dad that she is on the road to recovery.

The Good News

Dr. L performed the hemicolectomy and was able to reattach the ends of the bowel once the tumour was removed, so mom does not have a colostomy (and the accompanying "poop" bag). She will be closely monitored for leakage and infection, but so far, so good. Fingers crossed!

The Bad News

Unfortunately, the surgeon told Maureen yesterday that several of the removed lymph nodes were filled with cancer as well. He did his best to remove every node that was visibly cancerous (and likely a few extra ones to be sure). Because of mom's advanced age, they will not likely recommend chemo or other treatment of any kind. Even if they did, I would advise her against it because I don't want six months of her quality of life down the tubes because of side effects.

All-in-all, we couldn't have asked for a better outcome so far. Mom is still on the right side of the grass, is keeping the nurses on their toes, and is as feisty as ever. Just more reassurance that God answers prayer!

"Mom"s the Word

For all you fellow moms out there, I hope you put your feet up, read your favourite book, drink a glass of really good wine, and get showered with love.

This year, the approach of Mother's Day has birthed some interesting contemplations for me.

On the one hand -- it is my first Mother's Day since having met my birth mom. Try picking out a Mother's Day card with the right sentiments for this situation -- not easy! Perhaps I should moonlight as a card-creator for Hallmark :) I am so incredibly thankful, blessed, and appreciative to have her in my life.

My birth mom, Evelyn.
Thank you for giving me life, and
for accepting me into your life at 54!

When I met Mom, I was in my "wig" phase.

There's no hair (of my own) on that head of mine.

On the other hand -- I will be the first one to admit that I am very worried about my mom's impending surgery for her bowel cancer. We finally have a surgery date of this coming Thursday, May 15th. The thought of my 86-year-old mom not making it out of the OR seems to make this Mother's Day especially important. I want there to be no trace of a doubt in my mom's mind as to the depth of my love. Even though no DNA fingerprint was stealthily passed between the two of us; even though we have no common blood coursing through our veins; the bond between us has always been so close -- inexplicably close! Unfortunately, when we recently discovered that we have another unwanted bond -- a cancer diagnosis -- that brought us closer than ever.  In fact, many times this week, I have thought that maybe I had cancer just to reassure mom as her surgery approaches.

My Forever Mom, Elizabeth.

Thank you for teaching me to love, to accept,

and for giving me a safe place to fall

for the past 55 years!

Two moms!! I am so blessed!

Boogie Mimics Battling Cancer

Looking back at my Boogie training and race day, it is uncanny how many similarities there were to my battle with cancer.

Without training, I may have been able to successfully drag myself across the 5 km finish line, but with hopes of running most of the 10 km course, many hours of training were necessary. Similarly, being a cancer survivor did not come without "putting in my time"... hours and hours sitting with the Drano dripping into my veins, and laying stone-still while the radiation rays burned stray cancer cells ... both were mandatory to succeed.

One or two blocks in along the race route, loneliness seemed to envelope me, wrapping me in a black blanket of desolation. How could I possibly feel so isolated while running among 2500 people? Missing my comfort zone of running with Ashcroft RUNClubbers, I continuously scanned the crowd for familiar faces, to no avail. Plodding along, I endeavoured to cast my loneliness to the back burner and focus solely on my goal -- finishing! While struggling along this invasive journey, I had many solitary moments yearning for company. Sometimes, I was even surrounded by family and friends, but they felt just out of arms reach, as if our fingertips couldn't quite touch.

Just as David, Esther, and Kate cheered me along on my 10 km amble, I also had lots of support and many cheerleaders during my illness. Still, no one could do this for me -- I had to decide to "roar" myself. It was my feet that crossed the 10 km finish line, and it had to be my feet that crossed the finish line to "survivorhood". 

Katy Perry's "Roar" first stamped a place on my heart while taking part in the "Survivor's Parade" after "Run for the Cure" in October. However, it wasn't until I put it on my playlist for Boogie day that I really listened to all the lyrics. They truly do epitomize both my training and health sojourn.


Now I’m floating like a butterfly
Stinging like a bee I earned my stripes
I went from zero, to my own hero

You held me down, but I got up
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, you hear that sound
Like thunder gonna shake the ground
You held me down, but I got up
Get ready ’cause I’ve had enough
I see it all, I see it now

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
‘Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me ROAR
Louder, louder than a lion
‘Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me ROAR

If you want to be inspired by hearing Katy sing "Roar", here's a link ROAR

Boogie Photos

After I published the post about "Boogie The Bridge", I realized that my family supporters did take a few photographs and I forgot to include them with my post.

Here they are ...

Anxiously waiting for things to get rolling.

Part of the mob of 2500 waiting near the start line.

If you look really close, you will see a white hat just about

exactly in the middle of the photo ... me!

At about the 7 km mark,

where Kate and Esther were cheering me on.

Getting a huge hug from Jo Berry,

my RUNClub coach, at the finish line.

Thanks, Jo, for your coaching

and inspiration!!

Memories of an amazing day :) 

"Boogie the Bridge"

This past Sunday morning, the training and anticipation were finally over. "Boogie The Bridge" day had arrived. I made sure to be filled up on carbs the night before, got a good night's sleep, and was raring to go in the morning.  Unfortunately, the initial plans for Kate to run with me could not be carried out. She had had an encounter with some looped carpet and a steep flight of stairs, resulting in a purple and blue left foot, ballooned to twice its natural size.


Once parked in Kamloops, we made the trek to the pandemonium on Kamloops' main downtown street ... AKA 2500 people attempting to get organized to race. After locating the "Coach Trill" tent and my fellow RUNClubbers, my focus was 100% on running. As with any event involving a large number of people, it seemed to take an eternity to actually get going. First were the half-marathoners (I might be one of these someday!); next was "Mini Boogie", a 1 km race for the kids. Eventually, the 10 km racers were asked to line up. Unfortunately, I had somehow lost most of my teammates and there was only myself and one other woman from our team anywhere in sight. Because of the huge mob of people behind me, there was no way I could backtrack to find my team.


Torn because of this predicament, Nicole and I set out from the start line together. However, she is considerably faster than me, and I encouraged her to just go run her race. At about the one km mark, I was already questioning WHY did I want to do this to myself?? My only choice was to focus, shut out the discouraging voices in my head that wanted me to give up, and put one plodding foot in front of the other. I found great inspiration in the sidewalk chalk messages that adorned every metre of the 10 km (and probably 21 km) route.


I decided not to stick to our usual strict cycles of running and walking. Rather, I ran and ran and ran as far as I possibly could, and then would walk for a short time of a minute or less.  Just when I would be thinking I couldn't go on any further, there would be another band playing uplifting music, or a random family sitting in lawn chairs cheering as we went by. Seeing and hearing Esther and Kate screaming, "Go Mom!" at the 7 km mark definitely got a few more kilometres out of me -- well, that, in addition to the energy gel pack Kate had advised I tuck in my waistband and down at the 5-6 km mark :)


I knew I was nearing the finish line when I saw David videoing me from the sidelines. He ran a few hundred metres with me, encouraging me that I was just about there, and then let me cross the finish line alone. A huge hug from Jo, our RUNClub coach, greeted me as I crossed the finish line.

I DID IT!!!

I didn't "win" anything ...

     I wasn't the fastest ...



          I wasn't the slowest ...
               But I did beat my previous personal best time for 10 km by a considerable margin, completing the 10 km in 1 hour, 11 minutes. Extremely slow by some standards, but a HUGE accomplishment to me!


If you're curious to watch the TV coverage of Boogie, here's a link "Boogie the Bridge"

April is Daffodil Month

The Canadian Cancer Society, formed in 1938, named April as Daffodil Month back in 1957. The story of how it came to be is quite interesting ...

In the 1950s Canadian Cancer Society volunteers were holding afternoon teas in Toronto. Decorated with daffodils, the teas became known as “Daffodil Teas.” The teas grew in popularity when Lady Eaton, of Eaton’s department store, hosted a Daffodil Tea at a store in downtown Toronto. More than 700 women attended this event. 

In 1957, the first Daffodil Day was held and volunteers took to the streets to sell daffodils. In 2011, the daffodil pin was introduced in Ontario to resounding success. The daffodil pin is a visual symbol worn throughout the month of April to support those who have fought cancer or who are currently fighting the disease. 

Last year, as I proudly wore my bright, yellow daffodil, I donned this badge of honour for myself. My mom, over in Trail, B.C., recounted that she also made sure her daffodil pin adorned whatever jacket or sweater she wore out during the month of April. It was her outward sign of her unwavering support for me while I battled breast cancer.

Recently, when I was in Trail just after my reconstruction surgery, she told me she wouldn't have to wear it this year since I had been "cured". See, she doesn't really get the fact that I will be 'on guard' for signs of this disease for the rest of my life. However, if her coping mechanism is to consider me cured, so be it. I'm not going to burst her optimistic bubble.

The unfortunate next chapter in the story of the daffodil pins is that two weeks ago, my mom was diagnosed with bowel cancer. We don't yet know the ins and outs of her surgery or treatment -- that plan will unfold in the next few weeks after consultations with surgeons and oncologists -- but the one thing I do know is that I am now proudly wearing my daffodil pin each and every day of April in honour of my mom. She is an amazing woman and I will endeavour to be the pillar of strength and support for her that she was to me. 

Tidbits of Thankfulness

It feels like it's time to express gratitude; to be truly thankful for a few small tidbits that make life enjoyable and make me feel truly blessed ...

1.  RUNClub
As we runners stood elbow-to-elbow in a tight circle Saturday morning listening to Jo encourage us about the importance of emotional health, the hugest bald eagle flew directly over us. We all gazed in fascination at its massive wing span and majesty, commenting that it was a good omen for our run.

I love that RUNClub isn't just about physical health, it's about emotional health as well -- most importantly, connection. Over the past several months, the essence of being truly connected to those around me has become clear, and I realize it's necessity to my life.  Here's what Jo had to say in our weekly encouraging newsletter. "Boogie" she talks about is the "Boogie the Bridge" run, which is in 13 short sleeps.

"So what does this have to do with Boogie? Well, everything really.  Our central core value is connection. Boogie training is based yes on the physical side of movement; but also the emotional and mental side of movement.  Boogie day is about connection.   Standing close with 2500 other people gives you an opportunity to truly connect.  Our boogie team will be at the start line; on the route; and at the finish line, waiting to extend kindness and happiness to you. We are all the same. We are all alive. And we will all die. Boogie is about celebrating this beautiful thing called life."

2.  Neighbours to have coffee with
Oh, the delight that comes with having the type of neighbours you can just text and say, "I need a visit and a coffee. What are you up to??" And the response is always, "Come on over, I'll put the coffee on."

3.  Scary photographs
My stomach was queasy while looking at photographs of my neighbour, Jessi's, incision and hearing the horrific tales of her declining health and eventual diagnosis with a brain tumour -- twice over, 5 years apart! Unfortunately, she also has much smaller cancerous tumours in the exact location, for which she had radiation last summer. So far, so good with her current health condition. The surgeries I have been through pale in comparison to what this courageous woman has dealt with, a valuable reminder.

4.  Parenthood
Once again, this TV show has captured the genuine emotions connected with being a cancer patient and survivor. In the latest episode, "I'm Still Here", Kristina gets called to the bedside of a friend she met at chemo. That friend passes away during the episode, and Kristina struggles with the reality that her friend passed away while she is still alive. It's a 'must see', but have a box of tissue handy.

5.  Report Cards
As any teacher -- or anyone closely connected to a teacher -- will tell you, report card time is stress-filled. I am thankful that, as of 3 p.m. today, my report cards are DONE!!

6.  Sunshine
I cannot imagine wasting spring sunshine. It bids me to get outdoors -- to run, walk, picnic by the river -- soak up the vitamin D in such short supply all winter.

7.  Lambs
There is nothing like having your neck nuzzled, or your finger suckled, by a few-days-old lamb, a delight I have enjoyed ever since having been a quasi-sheep farmer years ago. Yesterday, watching lambs sproing across a greening field and getting to nuzzle a small black ram lamb brought joy to my heart.