Showing posts with label Emotions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emotions. Show all posts
01 June 2011
Something to look forward to
My sister C. is getting married in September. Not only it makes me feel very happy, it also gives me something to look forward to. Instead of thinking of my next surgery, I am thinking of what to wear and how will my hair look like by then. It is going to be a great day! Congratulations C. and C.
11 April 2011
Did I do this to myself?
I can’t get over the ‘why me’ phase. Every day I ask myself what could I have done differently. I can’t change the past but maybe I can try to influence my future.
What are the downsides of eating well, exercising more, and reducing stress? None, right? So why don’t we all do that? I always thought I lead a healthy life, but apparently I have exposed my body to some cancer causing chemicals or other factors that made me develop cancer. I will never know what caused my cancer, maybe it was the polluted air in London, the fact that I didn’t manage to have any children (although I tired), or because I took the pill for so many years. Was it because I didn’t eat organic, or because I had a stressful life? Was it because I am tall? A woman? White? Apart from nutrition and fitness, all the rest seems pretty much out of my control. Should I have exercised more, eaten less or healthier? I was never fat, I always exercised, I cook at home and don’t eat processed food, I eat plenty of fruit and vegetables and never had any health problems before. In fact, I never realised how healthy I was, how fit I was and how happy I was, until this happened.
If our body knows how to fight cancer, I am determined to help it with a better diet, exercise, less stress and less exposure to carcinogens. By doing this I will not only feel like I am in control, I will increase my chances of leaving longer cancer free.
Doctors don’t tell patients to exercise more, be thin, eat healthy, avoid carcinogens and reduce stress to build natural defences against cancer. All is focussed on early detection and treatments, not prevention. This is wrong.
I read somewhere that breast cancer incidence has increased by more than 50% over the last 25 years. This is quite alarming because, although treatments have improved significantly and the survival rates have increased, not much seems to have been done to prevent it from happening in the first place.
I don’t think it is random luck (or lack of it!), it is the environment we live in, the modern life-style we lead, that are disrupting our hormone balances. The chemicals we breathe, eat and drink are acting as carcinogens.
Presently my biggest fear is to have recurrent or secondary cancer and I want to make sure I do what I can to stay healthy for the rest of my life but it is very hard to do so when I don’t know what exactly made me have breast cancer in the first place.
Pesticides, plastics, the pill, stress, etc are all hormone disruptors that can mimic the role of oestrogen and stimulate the growth of hormone sensitive cancer (like mine). It hasn’t necessarily been proven that oestrogen can cause breast cancer, but high levels of oestrogen can stimulate the growth of the cancer cells. That is exactly what Tamoxifen is supposed to do: block oestrogen receptors.
Having an oestrogen receptive cancer is in a way good, it means that there is an extra treatment available, Tamoxifen, which is proven to be effective. However, although Tamoxifen may increase my life expectancy, it definitely decreases my quality of life. I have been taking it for about two months now and the side effects are just getting worse and worse. A good night sleep is something I don’t know the meaning of anymore and having menopause symptoms at my age makes me feel old, too old. Having hot flashes during hot weather is just horrible. I have many techniques to make it more bearable, such as having two glasses of ice on my desk at work, that I can hold whenever I feel a hot flash coming; I have a Chillow which I definitely recommend, it helps me cool down during the many night sweats I have each night; I sleep with a very light duvet and the window open when possible, I dress in layers and only cotton and I take sage capsules. Unfortunately I can’t take Black Cohosh, Agnus Castus or any of those herbs, because it may interfere with the Tamoxifen and may increase my oestrogen levels.
Why is our body so complicated?
Call me paranoid, but I started using glass containers instead of plastic, I try to use only BPA free plastic, I rarely eat canned food (apart from the odd bean or tuna can), I use organic beauty products without parabens, I eat organic, I avoid dairy products and red meat, and I eat as much antiangiogenic foods as I can (antiangiogenics stop the growth of tumours and progression of cancers by limiting the formation of new blood vessels). Some examples of these foods are strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, apples, pineapples, cherries, parsley, garlic, nutmeg, turmeric, tomatoes, pumpkin, green tea, kale and dark chocolate.
I went from not wanting to read anything related to cancer to reading everything I can about it. There’s a lot of contradictory information available, and not enough or inconclusive studies available, this makes it a lot more complicated. What I try to do is to find guidance that makes sense to me, that seems logical and harmless.
But sometimes I think that reducing risks means nothing because I know a lot of people who live under constant stress, smoke, drink, don’t eat anything fresh, organic or unprocessed, are overweight and don’t exercise and never got cancer.
What are the downsides of eating well, exercising more, and reducing stress? None, right? So why don’t we all do that? I always thought I lead a healthy life, but apparently I have exposed my body to some cancer causing chemicals or other factors that made me develop cancer. I will never know what caused my cancer, maybe it was the polluted air in London, the fact that I didn’t manage to have any children (although I tired), or because I took the pill for so many years. Was it because I didn’t eat organic, or because I had a stressful life? Was it because I am tall? A woman? White? Apart from nutrition and fitness, all the rest seems pretty much out of my control. Should I have exercised more, eaten less or healthier? I was never fat, I always exercised, I cook at home and don’t eat processed food, I eat plenty of fruit and vegetables and never had any health problems before. In fact, I never realised how healthy I was, how fit I was and how happy I was, until this happened.
If our body knows how to fight cancer, I am determined to help it with a better diet, exercise, less stress and less exposure to carcinogens. By doing this I will not only feel like I am in control, I will increase my chances of leaving longer cancer free.
Doctors don’t tell patients to exercise more, be thin, eat healthy, avoid carcinogens and reduce stress to build natural defences against cancer. All is focussed on early detection and treatments, not prevention. This is wrong.
I read somewhere that breast cancer incidence has increased by more than 50% over the last 25 years. This is quite alarming because, although treatments have improved significantly and the survival rates have increased, not much seems to have been done to prevent it from happening in the first place.
I don’t think it is random luck (or lack of it!), it is the environment we live in, the modern life-style we lead, that are disrupting our hormone balances. The chemicals we breathe, eat and drink are acting as carcinogens.
Presently my biggest fear is to have recurrent or secondary cancer and I want to make sure I do what I can to stay healthy for the rest of my life but it is very hard to do so when I don’t know what exactly made me have breast cancer in the first place.
Pesticides, plastics, the pill, stress, etc are all hormone disruptors that can mimic the role of oestrogen and stimulate the growth of hormone sensitive cancer (like mine). It hasn’t necessarily been proven that oestrogen can cause breast cancer, but high levels of oestrogen can stimulate the growth of the cancer cells. That is exactly what Tamoxifen is supposed to do: block oestrogen receptors.
Having an oestrogen receptive cancer is in a way good, it means that there is an extra treatment available, Tamoxifen, which is proven to be effective. However, although Tamoxifen may increase my life expectancy, it definitely decreases my quality of life. I have been taking it for about two months now and the side effects are just getting worse and worse. A good night sleep is something I don’t know the meaning of anymore and having menopause symptoms at my age makes me feel old, too old. Having hot flashes during hot weather is just horrible. I have many techniques to make it more bearable, such as having two glasses of ice on my desk at work, that I can hold whenever I feel a hot flash coming; I have a Chillow which I definitely recommend, it helps me cool down during the many night sweats I have each night; I sleep with a very light duvet and the window open when possible, I dress in layers and only cotton and I take sage capsules. Unfortunately I can’t take Black Cohosh, Agnus Castus or any of those herbs, because it may interfere with the Tamoxifen and may increase my oestrogen levels.
Why is our body so complicated?
Call me paranoid, but I started using glass containers instead of plastic, I try to use only BPA free plastic, I rarely eat canned food (apart from the odd bean or tuna can), I use organic beauty products without parabens, I eat organic, I avoid dairy products and red meat, and I eat as much antiangiogenic foods as I can (antiangiogenics stop the growth of tumours and progression of cancers by limiting the formation of new blood vessels). Some examples of these foods are strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, apples, pineapples, cherries, parsley, garlic, nutmeg, turmeric, tomatoes, pumpkin, green tea, kale and dark chocolate.
I went from not wanting to read anything related to cancer to reading everything I can about it. There’s a lot of contradictory information available, and not enough or inconclusive studies available, this makes it a lot more complicated. What I try to do is to find guidance that makes sense to me, that seems logical and harmless.
But sometimes I think that reducing risks means nothing because I know a lot of people who live under constant stress, smoke, drink, don’t eat anything fresh, organic or unprocessed, are overweight and don’t exercise and never got cancer.
10 April 2011
What not to say to a breast cancer patient
In difficult situations I never know what to say to people and very often I can’t find the right words and end up saying empty sentences and maybe even making insensitive remarks. So, I understand that sometimes, although well-meant (or not), people may say the wrong thing.
I’ve made a short list of the things I think people should not say to a cancer patient:
“No one knows when they are going to die. I could be hit by a bus and die tomorrow.” F***! What crosses people’s mind to talk about death to someone with a serious illness? Honestly... Do you know how I feel most of the time? Like if I’ve been hit by a bus, not once, but over and over again. It is true we all die of something at an undetermined date, but being faced with your own mortality after a cancer diagnosis is different.
“So, did the treatments work?” Unfortunately there isn’t a blood or urine test that can confirm that. Cancer can be as small as a single cell and undetectable in a scan. So, let’s see, if I die of cancer it means it didn’t work.
“Fatigue? But you don’t look tired.” I don’t think most people understand what it is like to be uncomfortable in your own body for almost a year now, not being able to sleep for almost five months now, not having energy to do simple things and feeling generally weak.
“You look great for someone who went through what you did.” Or even worse: “You look great, you must be feeling good.” Don’t assume that. Just because I am not crying all the time, I am wearing make-up and colourful clothes, able to laugh and tell some jokes, it doesn’t mean I feel great. I may look good (considering what I’ve been through!), but it feels like crap at times. And how is a cancer patient supposed to look like anyway?
“Look on the bright side, you will get a boob job for free.” First, I was happy the way I was before. Second, have you ever seen reconstructed breasts after a mastectomy? Obviously not. Do you like the way your nipples feel? Well, I wish I could feel mine too. Breast surgeons and plastic surgeons are geniuses and in some cases artists, but breast reconstruction is not the same as breast augmentation. And there's no bright side in loosing part of your body.
“I know how you feel.” Do you really? It’s ok to show sympathy but unless you went through exactly the same, you have no idea what it is like. When I hear this, all I feel is loneliness.
“God has a purpose in all this." "Pray to god." or anything related with god. Don’t assume I am religious. If god exists it is being quite cruel at the moment and I don’t see the purpose of that. I haven’t done anything wrong. If god has a plan, it is a pretty screwed up plan in my view. I prefer to rely on real things like medicine, family and friends. I don’t think people get cancer or any other serious disease for a reason, it is just a consequence of a series of factors.
“You’re so lucky you have so much free time.” Well, let me tell you, if I could choose between working and being sick, I would rather work 60 hours a week.
“My aunt, cousin, sister, brother, uncle, mother, neighbour or whoever died of cancer.” Why are you telling me this? I am scared enough as it is. And save the horror stories about the treatments, recovery and recurrence for some other time.
“Everything is going to be all right.” How can you know that? Even my doctors don’t know that. By saying this, people just make me feel guilty for being worried, sad and afraid.
“You have to stay positive.” Don’t tell me how I should feel. And if I am not positive? Am I disappointing a lot of people? Is positive a synonym of denial, anger, depression, anxiety and panic? No, I don’t think it is and I am sorry to disappoint you by saying that I feel all these as well.
“Your hair will grow back.” Don’t state the obvious. I live in the present not in the future. Have you ever tried feeling attractive and self-confident without hair?
“I love short hair?” Do you really? Then shall we go together to the hairdresser so you can copy my hairstyle?
I’ve made a short list of the things I think people should not say to a cancer patient:
“No one knows when they are going to die. I could be hit by a bus and die tomorrow.” F***! What crosses people’s mind to talk about death to someone with a serious illness? Honestly... Do you know how I feel most of the time? Like if I’ve been hit by a bus, not once, but over and over again. It is true we all die of something at an undetermined date, but being faced with your own mortality after a cancer diagnosis is different.
“So, did the treatments work?” Unfortunately there isn’t a blood or urine test that can confirm that. Cancer can be as small as a single cell and undetectable in a scan. So, let’s see, if I die of cancer it means it didn’t work.
“Fatigue? But you don’t look tired.” I don’t think most people understand what it is like to be uncomfortable in your own body for almost a year now, not being able to sleep for almost five months now, not having energy to do simple things and feeling generally weak.
“You look great for someone who went through what you did.” Or even worse: “You look great, you must be feeling good.” Don’t assume that. Just because I am not crying all the time, I am wearing make-up and colourful clothes, able to laugh and tell some jokes, it doesn’t mean I feel great. I may look good (considering what I’ve been through!), but it feels like crap at times. And how is a cancer patient supposed to look like anyway?
“Look on the bright side, you will get a boob job for free.” First, I was happy the way I was before. Second, have you ever seen reconstructed breasts after a mastectomy? Obviously not. Do you like the way your nipples feel? Well, I wish I could feel mine too. Breast surgeons and plastic surgeons are geniuses and in some cases artists, but breast reconstruction is not the same as breast augmentation. And there's no bright side in loosing part of your body.
“I know how you feel.” Do you really? It’s ok to show sympathy but unless you went through exactly the same, you have no idea what it is like. When I hear this, all I feel is loneliness.
“God has a purpose in all this." "Pray to god." or anything related with god. Don’t assume I am religious. If god exists it is being quite cruel at the moment and I don’t see the purpose of that. I haven’t done anything wrong. If god has a plan, it is a pretty screwed up plan in my view. I prefer to rely on real things like medicine, family and friends. I don’t think people get cancer or any other serious disease for a reason, it is just a consequence of a series of factors.
“You’re so lucky you have so much free time.” Well, let me tell you, if I could choose between working and being sick, I would rather work 60 hours a week.
“My aunt, cousin, sister, brother, uncle, mother, neighbour or whoever died of cancer.” Why are you telling me this? I am scared enough as it is. And save the horror stories about the treatments, recovery and recurrence for some other time.
“Everything is going to be all right.” How can you know that? Even my doctors don’t know that. By saying this, people just make me feel guilty for being worried, sad and afraid.
“You have to stay positive.” Don’t tell me how I should feel. And if I am not positive? Am I disappointing a lot of people? Is positive a synonym of denial, anger, depression, anxiety and panic? No, I don’t think it is and I am sorry to disappoint you by saying that I feel all these as well.
“Your hair will grow back.” Don’t state the obvious. I live in the present not in the future. Have you ever tried feeling attractive and self-confident without hair?
“I love short hair?” Do you really? Then shall we go together to the hairdresser so you can copy my hairstyle?
06 April 2011
The hottest April 6 on record
Today was the hottest day of the year and I was lucky enough to be off. I love and need sun. A sunny day is the best anti-depressant I know. Apparently the hottest place in the country, according to the Met Office, was St James’s Park here in London where a temperature of 23.6C was recorded. Not bad for April.
It's a shame I cannot sunbathe, my skin is still too sensitive after chemo and radiotherapy, otherwise I would have been in the sun all day. Sun, please stay!
It's a shame I cannot sunbathe, my skin is still too sensitive after chemo and radiotherapy, otherwise I would have been in the sun all day. Sun, please stay!
31 March 2011
Life after cancer treatments
Sometimes I have the impression that some people think that because the treatments are finished (not counting with the hormonal treatment, which in fact also has pretty annoying side effects) and because I normally say that I had cancer (in the past tense), that I am supposed to be positive and back to normal. But having cancer is not like having the flu. When you have the flu, you feel miserably sick but then you recover and get back to normal, without any consequences. With cancer it doesn’t work that way. There are physical, psychological and emotional, financial, social and work related consequences, everything is affected.
Physically, treatments leave behind fatigue, sleeping problems, induced menopause, discomforts caused by surgery and chemo, peripheral neuropathy from chemo, aches and pains, nails and hair loss.
The psychological and emotional effects of cancer and treatments are more complex. I can think of fear, anger, worry, frustration, sadness, anxiety, loss of self-confidence, grief and guilt. With these ones I can deal with, the worst part is being able to find a good balance between uncertainty and hope. I will see my doctors more often than I will see some of my good friends. And each doctor’s appointment triggers a series of emotions that start with fear of recurrence and hopefully end with relief and sense of security. And the emotional consequences are extended to my husband, family and close friends. They too worry and feel anxious.
Financially, being away from work for such a long period has a direct impact on income and having had cancer may also have a long term impact on my career. On top of this, insurances and mortgages will become harder to get.
Socially, I feel very often that people don’t understand me, some people don’t know how to behave towards me, I don’t know how to behave around new people and very often I worry about the changes to my appearance and about what people see when they look at me. I think they don’t see me, but the sick me.
Going back to work requires physical and emotional strength and I really admire those who can work during treatments. I know now that I went back too early. I feel completely overwhelmed, I am way too tired and emotionally weak. I definitely suffer from chemo-brain, I can’t concentrate, or talk and write at the level it is required.
I know that with time I will settle back into my old routines, getting out more, exercising more, and enjoying things in general more. Days are longer and weather is getting better, this helps. I am going to start stepping out at Baker Street station and walk through Regents Park back home.
Physically, treatments leave behind fatigue, sleeping problems, induced menopause, discomforts caused by surgery and chemo, peripheral neuropathy from chemo, aches and pains, nails and hair loss.
The psychological and emotional effects of cancer and treatments are more complex. I can think of fear, anger, worry, frustration, sadness, anxiety, loss of self-confidence, grief and guilt. With these ones I can deal with, the worst part is being able to find a good balance between uncertainty and hope. I will see my doctors more often than I will see some of my good friends. And each doctor’s appointment triggers a series of emotions that start with fear of recurrence and hopefully end with relief and sense of security. And the emotional consequences are extended to my husband, family and close friends. They too worry and feel anxious.
Financially, being away from work for such a long period has a direct impact on income and having had cancer may also have a long term impact on my career. On top of this, insurances and mortgages will become harder to get.
Socially, I feel very often that people don’t understand me, some people don’t know how to behave towards me, I don’t know how to behave around new people and very often I worry about the changes to my appearance and about what people see when they look at me. I think they don’t see me, but the sick me.
Going back to work requires physical and emotional strength and I really admire those who can work during treatments. I know now that I went back too early. I feel completely overwhelmed, I am way too tired and emotionally weak. I definitely suffer from chemo-brain, I can’t concentrate, or talk and write at the level it is required.
I know that with time I will settle back into my old routines, getting out more, exercising more, and enjoying things in general more. Days are longer and weather is getting better, this helps. I am going to start stepping out at Baker Street station and walk through Regents Park back home.
24 March 2011
Working against me
Going back to work has been a lot harder than I thought. I can't concentrate, I feel exhausted, anxious and insecure. The first week was ok, I was acclimatising. The second week was a nightmare, I felt less than the others, observed, slow and incapable of performing. I burst into tears every night and I couldn't even explain exactly why. I was so convinced that going back to work would shut the cancer door and open the normal life door, but things are not that easy, are they? I carry a heavy load on my shoulders everywhere I go and I don't seem to be able to let go. This week I gained courage and I asked to continue working reduced hours for a couple of more weeks. I'm letting myself down, I'm angry and I really wish things were different.
One thing I promised myself when I learned I had cancer was that I wouldn't get a depression. It's bad enough as it is, the last thing I need is to have to deal with a depression. But I can see it coming: lethargy, insomnia, irritability, sadness, crying, unable to have fun, lack of initiative. I can't let that happen, I don't want to look back one day and see wasted time. Today I went to see the psychologist who thinks I am not depressed, just being too hard on myself. She gave me a couple of tasks I have to put in practice during the next week, let's see if I manage to do it. One thing she said stayed on my mind: do what you feel like doing and not what you think you should be doing. Do what gives you pleasure, not what you think you should be doing. The problem is, I don't know anymore what I enjoy doing and most of the times I don't feel like doing anything, talking to anyone or going anywhere. All I want is for things to be like they were before. Nothing else.
One thing I promised myself when I learned I had cancer was that I wouldn't get a depression. It's bad enough as it is, the last thing I need is to have to deal with a depression. But I can see it coming: lethargy, insomnia, irritability, sadness, crying, unable to have fun, lack of initiative. I can't let that happen, I don't want to look back one day and see wasted time. Today I went to see the psychologist who thinks I am not depressed, just being too hard on myself. She gave me a couple of tasks I have to put in practice during the next week, let's see if I manage to do it. One thing she said stayed on my mind: do what you feel like doing and not what you think you should be doing. Do what gives you pleasure, not what you think you should be doing. The problem is, I don't know anymore what I enjoy doing and most of the times I don't feel like doing anything, talking to anyone or going anywhere. All I want is for things to be like they were before. Nothing else.
23 March 2011
Spring
The house has been taken over by spiders, bees and lady birds.
S. doesn't allow me to vacuum or smash them with a slipper, instead he tries to catch them with a glass and then puts them in the garden. Very correct! In the meantime we've been living with a big creepy hairy spider on the ceiling of our bedroom and one in the bathroom (not to mention the ones that come and go), a family of lady birds and a couple of noisy bumblebees. These were the first signs of spring.
It was a fantastic spring day today: bright sun, blue sky and warm. I was off today so I went to meet J. for lunch. We sat by the canal, absorbing the sun while eating a sandwich. It was super nice. Nothing like a bit of sun to cheer me up.
The day didn't start so well today, I lost a fingernail which was a big shock because I thought all my fingernails would survive, but I was wrong. If I look carefully I can see that at least two more nails are going to fall off soon. I had never seen a finger without a nail... it looks weird,... pink. Not everyone can say they have touched their scalp and nail bed, right? Well, I can. So, what does a 36 year old woman do when she looses a nail? She calls her mother to do a sniffie sniffie. So grown up! Sometimes I wonder if my mother called her mother for every little thing.
S. doesn't allow me to vacuum or smash them with a slipper, instead he tries to catch them with a glass and then puts them in the garden. Very correct! In the meantime we've been living with a big creepy hairy spider on the ceiling of our bedroom and one in the bathroom (not to mention the ones that come and go), a family of lady birds and a couple of noisy bumblebees. These were the first signs of spring.
It was a fantastic spring day today: bright sun, blue sky and warm. I was off today so I went to meet J. for lunch. We sat by the canal, absorbing the sun while eating a sandwich. It was super nice. Nothing like a bit of sun to cheer me up.
The day didn't start so well today, I lost a fingernail which was a big shock because I thought all my fingernails would survive, but I was wrong. If I look carefully I can see that at least two more nails are going to fall off soon. I had never seen a finger without a nail... it looks weird,... pink. Not everyone can say they have touched their scalp and nail bed, right? Well, I can. So, what does a 36 year old woman do when she looses a nail? She calls her mother to do a sniffie sniffie. So grown up! Sometimes I wonder if my mother called her mother for every little thing.
20 March 2011
10 March 2011
Not what I had planned
6:45am: the alarm goes off – Oh no, time to get up already! Don’t feel good, was awake the whole night, have a headache and no energy to move. Snooze.
6:54am: the alarm goes off again – first attempt to get up. Unsuccessful. Snooze.
7:03am: the alarm goes off once again – second attempt. Feeling light-headed. I ask S.: "Do you think I can stay at home today, I don’t feel 100%?" Answer: "Of course, listen to your body and don’t feel guilty." I move closer to S. to cuddle up.
7:15am: feeling guilty I get up and have breakfast. Still not feeling well. Back to bed.
8:00am: up again. I decide I should make an effort. I’m worried my boss and colleagues will think I am lazy. “Are you crazy, your wellbeing comes first!” says S.. I get annoyed but I know he is right. Still, in a spirit of contradiction, I try to shower. Damn it, it’s true, I can’t wet the stitches. So I get even crankier. Finally I tell my boss I won’t make it today.
8:30am: back in bed feeling moody, sad and not well.
10:00am: managed to sleep one hour. Listening to Antena 3 and reading in bed.
I still think I should be in the office, not in bed. So much for wanting to get back to normal. Life sucks!
6:54am: the alarm goes off again – first attempt to get up. Unsuccessful. Snooze.
7:03am: the alarm goes off once again – second attempt. Feeling light-headed. I ask S.: "Do you think I can stay at home today, I don’t feel 100%?" Answer: "Of course, listen to your body and don’t feel guilty." I move closer to S. to cuddle up.
7:15am: feeling guilty I get up and have breakfast. Still not feeling well. Back to bed.
8:00am: up again. I decide I should make an effort. I’m worried my boss and colleagues will think I am lazy. “Are you crazy, your wellbeing comes first!” says S.. I get annoyed but I know he is right. Still, in a spirit of contradiction, I try to shower. Damn it, it’s true, I can’t wet the stitches. So I get even crankier. Finally I tell my boss I won’t make it today.
8:30am: back in bed feeling moody, sad and not well.
10:00am: managed to sleep one hour. Listening to Antena 3 and reading in bed.
I still think I should be in the office, not in bed. So much for wanting to get back to normal. Life sucks!
03 March 2011
Changing focus
Lately I’ve been experiencing what feels like the worst PMS of my life. One minute I think everyone around me is great, the next minute I realise how annoying people can be and I don’t just get irritated, I scare people by turning blue and blowing up, not without first saying a couple of nasty things. Even I know this is irrational, but it is totally out of my control, really, it is. I have to first count until ten before opening my mouth these days. It feels at times as if my body and mind are not my own. The worse part of the treatments have ended, the prognosis is good, spring is coming (soon I hope!) and life goes on. An action plan is needed. So, let’s be rational:
Problem: tired body and exhausted mind, crazy hormones, loss of self-esteem, pains and aches
Cause: cancer and treatments
Solution: change focus, rest, exercise, eat well, have fun and take pain killers
After almost nine months of focussing on cancer and my health, I am now ready to change focus and start living a more normal life. It is going to be hard, at least for now because there are still so many reminders - aches and pains, annoyances, my physical appearance, worries, doctor’s appointments, etc - that don’t let me forget what I’ve been through, but I want to stop thinking of myself as a cancer patient and enjoy life as before. “As before” and “normal life” will now have to be readjusted to a new reality. Nothing will be like before, I know, but I have to find a new “normal” and get on with life.
Problem: tired body and exhausted mind, crazy hormones, loss of self-esteem, pains and aches
Cause: cancer and treatments
Solution: change focus, rest, exercise, eat well, have fun and take pain killers
After almost nine months of focussing on cancer and my health, I am now ready to change focus and start living a more normal life. It is going to be hard, at least for now because there are still so many reminders - aches and pains, annoyances, my physical appearance, worries, doctor’s appointments, etc - that don’t let me forget what I’ve been through, but I want to stop thinking of myself as a cancer patient and enjoy life as before. “As before” and “normal life” will now have to be readjusted to a new reality. Nothing will be like before, I know, but I have to find a new “normal” and get on with life.
23 February 2011
You can take the girl out of Portugal but you can't take Portugal out of the girl!
I had such a great time with my family I wish I could have stayed longer. And there's nothing like walking by the sea to cheer one up. Back in gloomy London now...
18 February 2011
What’s next?
Today I had my last radiotherapy treatment. I feel relieved and happy. Now my skin can start healing and I don’t need to go to the clinic everyday anymore.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.
14 February 2011
Papá
I can't believe it's been a year already. Grieving is a strange process. The counselor I've seen a couple of times keeps repeating I have to allow myself to grieve, but I am not quite sure what makes her think I am not grieving. Maybe because so much has happened in the past year, maybe because I don't cry all the time, or maybe I am simply coping well. Things don't necessarily have to be heavy. I rely on my selective memory and think only about the happy moments. I wish I was in Espinho today and not alone here so far. It's been a year since anyone has asked me if I have alreay eaten and if it is cold. In my own way, I miss my father.
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| Last picture we took together. It was a happy day :) |
01 February 2011
Having a no hair day
Seven and a half weeks after my last chemo and I still have no real hair, just some ugly fluff. And no signs of eyelashes or eyebrows yet. I try not to worry but I am very anxious. I WANT MY HAIR BACK! NOW!
To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.
There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.
Not nice. I hate chemo.
To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.
There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.
Not nice. I hate chemo.
27 January 2011
Turning into a drama queen
I feel so decrepit! All I can do is complain about my looks. No hair, no nails, dry and grey skin, no boob, no sleep, always tired... Since my toenail episode I have been completely obsessed about my nails. I assumed that since the chemo was finished so would the side effects. Unfortunately not. Yesterday two fingernails detached from the nail bed, you can probably imagine how affected and sad I was. I don’t like crying alone, it’s a bit like drinking alone, it’s depressing, so I waited until S. got home and the moment he got in I did a little ‘sniff sniff, waah, waah’ and got a good dose of “miminhos”* which made me feel immediately better. That’s what husbands are for. My nails are in a critical condition! They have been sore, yellow, deformed and weak for months, but I was hoping they would not fall off. Wrong, I was wrong. The upside is now I have the perfect excuse not to do dishes or any other task I dislike, eh, eh!
But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.
Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?
During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.
My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.
While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.
I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.
Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?
* kisses and cuddles
But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.
Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?
During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.
My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.
While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.
I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.
Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?
* kisses and cuddles
21 January 2011
Wishful thinking
Today I dreamt I had hair, I had long luscious locks. The dream was so real I could feel my fingers running through the hair. In my dream I was in the shower shampooing my long hair... So cruel! When I woke up reality seemed a nightmare.
The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.
Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.
Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.
Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.
The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.
Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.
Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.
Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.
07 January 2011
Some days are better than others
Today I am having a bad day. Maybe it’s because of the rain and grey sky, maybe not. I woke up feeling sad, with a knot in my throat, hating everything about my sick body. I hate the way I look, the fact that I always feel so tired and the constant discomfort caused by all kind of small annoying things like having very sensitive sore nails both in my hands and feet, having pain in both arms, either because of the phlebitis or the cording, having some digestive problems, being forgetful and confused at times, and having hot flashes and night sweats, a subject I have avoided writing about in here. For about two months now I have been having menopause symptoms, one of my most feared side effects of chemotherapy. My ovaries stopped working, maybe not permanently, that is what I am hoping for. I feel I am losing my femininity: lost a breast, lost all my hair, look tired and old, will most likely never become a mother and will never breast feed. I know some things are temporary like the hair loss and that the most important is to be alive and well. People can tell me this over and over again but I can’t get used to the idea that I am not the healthy person I thought I was before all this cancer thing happened. I want to live until I am 90 (or more!), healthy, happy and elegant. With all these worries I am going to get wrinkled, grey and turn into a grumpy old lady.
The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.
Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.
The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.
Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.
04 January 2011
And today I got a tattoo
My tattoo is a special one and one that I will not be able to show off.
This morning I went to the clinic for the radiotherapy planning appointment. The radiographer started by giving me a brief explanation of what was going to happen and handing me my treatment schedule and some leaflets with useful information about the treatment and about the complementary therapies that I am entitled to. More information to put in the already full bookshelf where I keep all leaflets and books on breast cancer and treatments! She talked about the side effects and how to care for my skin, she also gave some advice like not to shave or wax under my arms. Well, that's easy, there's no signs of hair anywhere yet. I then signed the consent form and took an MRSA swab screen. After undressing from waist up (except the scarf, I didn’t feel like walking around with my head naked!) and putting on one of the hospital gowns, the radiographer took me to the CT scan machine where I had to lie with my arms up for quite some time while the radiographer and a colleague adjusted the machine, made some pen marks and put some wires on my skin. I lie there looking at a picture of a blue sky with fluffy white clouds that hangs from the ceiling while some green laser beams divide my chest into parts. I guess the picture is there to help patients relax. And I definitely need to relax. Even for a simple appointment like today's I get super anxious and stressed. They all leave the room for the scanning. Once the scan is done, one of the radiographers comes in to make two permanent tattoos on my chest, two small blue dots that will help them position the machine for each treatment. The radiotherapy needs to be given to the exact same part of my torso every time and these two dots will help ensure that. I have now two new blue freckles.
31 December 2010
2011 is going to be a better year
My body is detoxing and trying to readjust to a life without the chemo drugs. I wonder how long it will take to get back to normal, a month, six months, a year? My digestive tract is still a bit of a mess, my nails are very sore and yellow (I wonder if they are going to fall off or not and if yes, does it hurt? How will it look like? How long does it take to grow back?), my skin is so dry it seems it is going to crack at any moment, I have lost all my hair, except for 10 eyebrows and about 5 eyelashes (yes, I counted them!), which I am sure will abandon me in the coming days, making me look even more weird and sickish. I am so aware of the way I look now, I wish mirrors didn’t exist. Between chemo sessions some baby hair always grows on my head, weak, colourless and very scarce hair which looks nothing like my old hair. Now I look in the mirror every day hoping to see my dark strong hair growing back. I want to go back to work in January or February and I would prefer to go back without a scarf covering my head. I am tired beyond believe and so out of shape that yesterday I could hardly walk up the mountain to enjoy the view over Moledo. My muscles ache and my joints like to complain as well. I feel like an old lady.
During these days in Portugal I have been eating a lot more and haven’t been following my diet. I feel guilty and I must get back on the right track. But it is irresistible, there’re so many nice things, so many temptations, I just can’t resist. Of course I then suffer the consequences, like having indigestions, tummy pain, feeling tired and without energy, and sleeping badly.
I desperately need to start exercising regularly, but I just learned that I can’t swim during radiotherapy because the chloride may irritate the skin. I can’t practice any sport that makes me sweat too much either for the same reason. I can’t play badminton because my arm still hurts (the cording comes back from time to time) so I will try yoga, pilates or any other quiet sport.
Emotionally I feel good. I am a bit apprehensive about starting radiotherapy, fear of the unknown I guess, and anxious about reconstruction, with another surgery, another stay in the hospital. I can’t wait for all this to be over.
As soon as I get home I will hang the 2011 calendar in the kitchen and remove the 2010 one. The good thing about having a bad year is knowing that the following year can only be better.
What I had hoped for 2010 didn’t happen. I wanted to have a baby but instead I got cancer. Unfortunately the opposite doesn’t work, if I wish for cancer I will still not get a baby. So all I am going to wish for is that I have a calm year, actually I wouldn’t mind having a boring year, an eventless year.
I hope 2011 will be a good year not just for me, but for all of you as well. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
During these days in Portugal I have been eating a lot more and haven’t been following my diet. I feel guilty and I must get back on the right track. But it is irresistible, there’re so many nice things, so many temptations, I just can’t resist. Of course I then suffer the consequences, like having indigestions, tummy pain, feeling tired and without energy, and sleeping badly.
I desperately need to start exercising regularly, but I just learned that I can’t swim during radiotherapy because the chloride may irritate the skin. I can’t practice any sport that makes me sweat too much either for the same reason. I can’t play badminton because my arm still hurts (the cording comes back from time to time) so I will try yoga, pilates or any other quiet sport.
Emotionally I feel good. I am a bit apprehensive about starting radiotherapy, fear of the unknown I guess, and anxious about reconstruction, with another surgery, another stay in the hospital. I can’t wait for all this to be over.
As soon as I get home I will hang the 2011 calendar in the kitchen and remove the 2010 one. The good thing about having a bad year is knowing that the following year can only be better.
What I had hoped for 2010 didn’t happen. I wanted to have a baby but instead I got cancer. Unfortunately the opposite doesn’t work, if I wish for cancer I will still not get a baby. So all I am going to wish for is that I have a calm year, actually I wouldn’t mind having a boring year, an eventless year.
I hope 2011 will be a good year not just for me, but for all of you as well. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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