Shovels, Buzzing, X’s, Bikes...

September 30, 2011

The Good: A friend of mine who had cancer shared with me how it affected her confidence... I know exactly what she means; I find it hard to be confident when someone keeps hitting me  over the head with a shovel!

You go from being the person you’ve always known to becoming scared and vulnerable overnight, not to the mention the toll it takes on how you look physically during and after the process. 

I think about what she said almost daily, about confidence, to remind myself to keep my head high and my feet light so I can  “bob and weave” whenever I see that shovel come my way.

I’m not striving to be the “New Me”; I’m striving to be “Me”.

The Bad: I’m walking down the street feeling pretty good, strolling along, la la la... and then I hit a wall, not literally but emotionally.  My body tenses and I feel my face getting those wrinkles in between the eyebrows at the top of your nose.  What the fuck is that buzzing sound coming from the building across the street and why is it making me tense and wrinkly!

During radiation treatments, there’s a constant buzzing, something like a distant lawn mower or an angry swarm of bees as some would describe... it’s a sound I grew to despise over the 25 days of being radiated, I dreaded it each time, and couldn’t wait for it to stop.

While I didn’t hit the ground and take cover hearing that noise, it did remind me that although the treatments are done, I’ll likely carry the experience with me for some time...

The What the ???: My phone rings, and then rings again, and again... one after another my appointments are cancelled... my calendar now filled with X’s, I realise this is the first week in almost a year that I haven’t gone to the hospital. 

Lessons Learned: It’s not the guy who whizzes by thinking he’s part of the Tour De France, it’s not the guy zoned out on his I-Pod while I silently scream “watch out for the squirrel”, and it’s definitely not the guy who borrowed his wife’s spandex or kept his own from the 80’s, it’s the guy wearing a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and tie that peddles by at a leisurely pace sporting a grin... that’s the guy I find sexy on a bike.  Yes, that’s right, I spend wayyyyyyyyyyy too much time walking along the bike path....

Chemo Brain, The “Bob Cut”, Beyond Cancer, Emotional Scars...

September 23, 2011

The Good: From day one I heard about the dreaded “chemo brain” from Doc’s, Nurse’s and patients.  Apparently chemo brain is the result of all the chemicals you’re subjected to which affect how you think, your memory, judgement, etc... As I’ve learned along the way, and it’s not always a good thing, but I don’t often experience what others do, but in this case I’m happy to report my brain appears to be fog free. 

During a visit with the oncologist a friend accompanying me said “hey doc, she doesn’t have chemo brain, if anything she’s sharper than before, but I’m worried about myself, I can’t remember anything these days!”

The Bad: I had a dream where I’m in a room filled with women, packed in like standing sardines, shoulders touching me I scan the room.  The woman next to me has short blond hair, kind of wiggish looking but not, and I notice all the women have the same length of hair, not style, just length.  I ask her why and she says “didn’t they tell you; your hair will never grow past this point”.  I felt like I was a character in a Stephen King novel, and that’s not a good feeling for those of you not familiar with his work.

In real life, most that dish out the treatments have never been on the receiving end, you can tell this by how they explain what will happen; those who do know firsthand what to expect are guarded with their words. 

I’m confident my hair will grow back, not so confident though on what the future holds as a result of what’s gone on this past year... as in what will happen because of what they don’t know, and what they don’t share...

The What the ???: I made an appointment with my Family Physician, in theory I did this to get back on track with life.  Once I arrived though I realized how out of touch I had become, I’d forgotten there are things to be done outside of Cancer Land, and found myself at a loss for words, not knowing where to start, and forgetting who I was before this all happened. The kid tearing across the room looking anything BUT sick had “thrush” whatever the heck that is, the woman to my left was getting her annual physical, and the man who had just finished his appointment announced cheerfully to his wife that he’s expected to live to be 100...

The waiting room was filled with non-cancer patients and for the first time in a while I felt like an outsider because I wasn’t surrounded by people like me.

Lessons Learned: My body is starting to heal; there is no pill though to erase the emotional scars of this past year.   

Party, Bells, Decisions, Burns...

September 16, 2011

The Good: My evil god daughter is coming for the weekend, I’m looking forward to having some smiles rather than the doom and gloom of this past week, let the party begin!

The Bad: No sooner had I received the final ZAP of radiation  that I was ushered into a room to discuss short and long term side effects and how I’ll need to be monitored going forward.  So much for happy time, and I didn’t even get to ring the Fucking Bell!

The What the ???: We looked at each other without saying much, him concerned with how deflated I looked, me by the number of “Fuck’s” coming out of his mouth, that’s never a good sign when he’s swearing more than me... I’m glad it was him I was having this conversation with and not someone else. 

Is it even possible to have every side effect on a never ending list and then some???  Apparently it is... the wonder drug Tamoxifen was not so wonderful for me; even though the long months of chemo are in the past, it will remain in my present for some time. 

We shook hands and said good-bye; I wanted him to stay just a bit longer while I thought about what this meant... he was gone.

Lessons Learned: If you play with Radiation, you will get burned...

Woof Woof, Chest Pains, Revelations, What’s Normal...

September 9, 2011

The Good: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 dogs in the front seat, 1, 2 dogs in the back seat and they are all freaking out!!!  I stop and take a peak, make sure the windows are cracked as these canines are sucking up a lot of oxygen with all the panting and barking that’s going on... and then I’m on my way. 

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK... I turn around to see what the commotion is, and it’s one of the freaking dogs honking the horn, and I feel like it’s directed at me, and if HONKS could talk, it would say “hey lady, get back here and open up these doors!”

 
When I no longer find things like this amusing, that’s when you need to worry that something is wrong with me...

The Bad: The radiation machine on top of me, the technician underneath, his face a few inches from mine... my eyes snap open wide and his does the same as I experience sharp pains in my chest; I don’t remember how I escaped without knocking heads or hitting the machine.  We looked at each other not saying a word, hearts beating fast against our chests... then we began the process once again to line up the laser beams with my tattoos so I can be zapped, when all I want to do is feel the floor against my feet and run. 

The What the ???: “If you just relax, your arm will be fine” she says as I struggle to position myself for treatments... Wow, why hadn’t I thought of that? All I need to do is relax and I’ll regain movement in my arm, I can’t wait to share this revelation with my surgeon and physiotherapist!

Lessons Learned: Was I “Old Normal” before or just “Normal”?   What the heck is Normal anyway???

It doesn’t matter how you say it, filled with sincerity or a smile, I still hate the term “New Normal”...

Seniors, Bicycles, Band Aids, Sneaky Behaviour ...

September 2, 2011

The Good: I pulled the handle on the car door, peered in, and confirmed this was my driver for the day... it was, and I was greeted by a big smile and “my, you are looking ravishing today.” 

This charmer is one of many seniors who are part of the volunteer ride program through the cancer society who get me to and from my daily appointments for radiation. 

I’ve introduced the charmer... then there’s the sidewalk rider, and the one who has 11 siblings of which 8 were diagnosed with cancer, and the man who combed the hospital searching for me thinking he’d given me the wrong cell phone number, and the guy who loves driving so much now that he’s retired he drives cancer patients, a limo, and a dump truck in his spare time...

I wonder who will be behind the next handle...

The Bad: Radiation is doing a number on my arm, the one I’ve tried so hard to get mobility back in through months of Physio, ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Now throw in the feeling of being burned from the inside out and that pretty much sums up the experience so far. 

I feel like I’m riding a bicycle that’s suspended, lopsided, and now the chain broke... it’s not like I was going anywhere being suspended but now I’m covered in grease. 

The What the ???: I’m sitting in the waiting room when I hear “hey, I bet your toe problem isn’t from radiation” he says with a smile, “no, it’s not from radiation” I reply returning the smile and getting back to the incredibly boring hospital newsletter I was reading.  His wife is now eying my toe and they both need to know the story behind the band aid, so they ask again... “My toenails are still falling off from chemo treatments” was not the answer they expected. 

I know, I know... they are just making conversation, nobody means any harm, blah blah blah...  but if everyone kept this simple rule in mind the waiting room would be a better place... Band Aid = Bad/ No Band Aid = Good... chances are if you ask what’s underneath a band aid it’s going to fall under the “Bad” category of conversations.

Lessons Learned: Several people in the hospital can access my files, which includes scheduled appointments... so rather than arguing with reception in radiation to “release” my schedule a day early so I can provide the cancer society the notice they require to secure a ride, I just ask someone else in the hospital to “release” those dates and everyone walks away happy :)