Climb Every Mountain - Rodgers and Hammerstein
I've read many stories, blogs and articles by people who have survived or are in the midst of a cancer journey. Many of such stories emphasize the importance of setting a goal for the end of the journey. Something to strive for and think beyond the treatment and recovery. For some that might be just getting back to normal, others it's a bigger goal. Thinking beyond carries me through each day and keeps my mind off the day to day annoyances and helps me to focus on what I expect to be renewed and increased energy following recovery.
As an example, Terry Wingham, a breast cancer survivor, started an organization A Fresh Chapter Alliance Foundation that takes cancer survivors to far reaches of the world to volunteer and celebrate an adventure following the completion of cancer treatment. Cancer is only one chapter in some of our lives. For her, it all started with a blog.
I've set one goal - to complete a portion of the Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain. To get there, my training starts now. Every walk, even the short trips around the block during what I call my 'down' weeks gets me closer to that goal. I've pondered walking the Camino over the years, verbalizing it more and more each year but now seems to be the right time. Maybe this is exactly what I needed to make it happen. In the short term, my goal is to tackle the NorthShore trails, one by one, completing the Baden Powell route along the way. For those not of Vancouver - the Baden Powell trail is a trail that crosses the north shore mountains from Horseshoe Bay to Deep Cove (41 km or about 10 hours of continuous hiking).
Warning: smarmy stuff ahead!!
My but my breast cancer travels are part of my prep for the Camino. Each treatment is another mountain or stream to forge. I'm following my rainbow to the end of treatment and being cancer free.
Thank you to all of you who have and will share steps with me along the way whether that's joining me on a walk, sitting with me through treatment, making a family meal, sharing a laugh or tear or following my blog. We'll get there together.
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
Sunday, 20 April 2014
Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow
Don't stop thinking about tomorrow
Don't stop, it'll soon be here.
It'll be, better than before.
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.
Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow - Fleetwood Mac
With each chemo treatment, I expect that I will become more and more tired. Knowing what to expect is easier than not but still doesn't make impending lack of energy more palatable.
With treatment #1, I had 2 days when I had very low energy and motivation to do much more than 'couch-it'. From there, each day I was able to go for longer more challenging walks and accomplish more on the task list. So including the treatment day, there were 3 days when I was what I refer to as 'out'.
For treatment #2, there were 3-4 days when I was not up for a walk more than a few blocks. For treatment #3, it was only at day 5 when I felt like I could keep moving for the full day and focus on task. So that leaves me with 2 weeks and 2 days until my next treatment. The number of 'free' energy days is dwindling with each chemical zap.
For me, it helps to focus on the next day knowing that I will have more energy than the prior helps to get me through each week; knowing it will be better. Yesterday's gone. Taking care of myself on the 'off' days enables me to build the strength on the good days and remain strong for the upcoming treatment. Keeping my body strong, will allow me to be to recover from the months of treatment and medical care.
I'm keeping my sights on the day when all the stages of treatment are over. Good things to come; leaving all the bad stuff behind me.
Don't stop, it'll soon be here.
It'll be, better than before.
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.
Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow - Fleetwood Mac
With each chemo treatment, I expect that I will become more and more tired. Knowing what to expect is easier than not but still doesn't make impending lack of energy more palatable.
With treatment #1, I had 2 days when I had very low energy and motivation to do much more than 'couch-it'. From there, each day I was able to go for longer more challenging walks and accomplish more on the task list. So including the treatment day, there were 3 days when I was what I refer to as 'out'.
For treatment #2, there were 3-4 days when I was not up for a walk more than a few blocks. For treatment #3, it was only at day 5 when I felt like I could keep moving for the full day and focus on task. So that leaves me with 2 weeks and 2 days until my next treatment. The number of 'free' energy days is dwindling with each chemical zap.
For me, it helps to focus on the next day knowing that I will have more energy than the prior helps to get me through each week; knowing it will be better. Yesterday's gone. Taking care of myself on the 'off' days enables me to build the strength on the good days and remain strong for the upcoming treatment. Keeping my body strong, will allow me to be to recover from the months of treatment and medical care.
I'm keeping my sights on the day when all the stages of treatment are over. Good things to come; leaving all the bad stuff behind me.
Friday, 11 April 2014
You Can Leave Your Hat On
You Can Leave Your Hat On - Joe Cocker
For the next 6 months or so, a new staple to my daily dress is a head covering to block out the cold and cold and avoid the uncomfortable stares from those I meet. I am without my usual mop of red hair. I know red is a stretch when it probably looks brown with grey but in my mind, it's still the red of my 12 year old youth. So, to cover up my bumpy scalp and to more practically to keep my head warm, I wear a hat, scarf, turban toque at all times. I even have a neat little cap that I wear to bed to block the chilly breeze that travels at night through my drafty, old house.
In the few short weeks since my hair and I parted ways...no pun intended...I"ve gathered a considerable collection.
when I want to impress - beautiful scarves from my sister in Spain - makes me feel pretty and almost like I have a bit of style
A bit of style - hand felted hat from millinery on Granville Island
quick default - my Craft cotton running toque - very much in style with the young crowd and now coveted by my daughter
cold day wear - colourful knitted caps from my friend Vickie
indoor sloppy - convertible turban-type finds from Winners - they have EVERYTHING!!!
Adding to my collection next week - a mop of my 12 year old hair. No, I didn't save it. I've got a wig on order. Funny, I wouldn't colour my hair but now I'm buying a whole head of colour. Always the bargain hunter, there's no need to touch up roots or re-die. Why didn't I think of this sooner?
For the next 6 months or so, a new staple to my daily dress is a head covering to block out the cold and cold and avoid the uncomfortable stares from those I meet. I am without my usual mop of red hair. I know red is a stretch when it probably looks brown with grey but in my mind, it's still the red of my 12 year old youth. So, to cover up my bumpy scalp and to more practically to keep my head warm, I wear a hat, scarf, turban toque at all times. I even have a neat little cap that I wear to bed to block the chilly breeze that travels at night through my drafty, old house.
In the few short weeks since my hair and I parted ways...no pun intended...I"ve gathered a considerable collection.
when I want to impress - beautiful scarves from my sister in Spain - makes me feel pretty and almost like I have a bit of style
A bit of style - hand felted hat from millinery on Granville Island
quick default - my Craft cotton running toque - very much in style with the young crowd and now coveted by my daughter
cold day wear - colourful knitted caps from my friend Vickie
indoor sloppy - convertible turban-type finds from Winners - they have EVERYTHING!!!
Adding to my collection next week - a mop of my 12 year old hair. No, I didn't save it. I've got a wig on order. Funny, I wouldn't colour my hair but now I'm buying a whole head of colour. Always the bargain hunter, there's no need to touch up roots or re-die. Why didn't I think of this sooner?
Thursday, 3 April 2014
How does it feel?
Like a Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan
One of the most common questions I get these days is "How does the treatment leave me feeling". I'll attempt to describe it. First off, it feels different for everyone so this is my experience only. As my treatment is every three weeks, here's how the cycle seems to flow.
Week one begins with the chemotherapy treatment. The treatment itself is given by IV. The hardest part is trying to find a 'good vein'. I'm not adverse to needles so I find this kind of interesting. Just the prick of the needle and then it's sitting around waiting while the chemo drugs run into your veins. It's a lot of time sitting, reading, chatting with the person in the chair beside you or visitor who has joined you for the day. My treatment involves two medications, one that is administered by IV push, which means it's two large syringes of medication that the nurse injects slowly through the iv over a 20 minute time frame. That medication could burn or irritate the veins so there's a slight bit of tension while you wait to sense any burning or pain. Fortunately this hasn't happened for me. The other drug takes an hour. As I change medications along my treatment plan, the treatment will take up to 6 hours for the IV's.
The days following it is like an ongoing flu that doesn't get worse but then again you never quite get over it before the next treatment comes along. Always just on the edge of nausea, feeling best lying down, short energy bursts, diminished interest in food, constant runny nose and stuffiness. Horizontal rules this week. Sweats at night and interrupted sleeps. My brain is on overload so I have vividly real, bizarre dreams. I recall imagined conversations during the day. My kids are now used to me questioning them about whether a conversation occurred.
Week two the energy starts to return as does the appetite. Brain is out of shock and back to 'normal' which means that my only excuse now is age. A half day of activity such as walking, housework, e-mails can be managed if balanced with a few hours on the couch resting. A little reminder that, yes, you are currently receiving medical treatment. Still the flu-like feeling or harsh allergies with head stuffiness, runny nose, coughing and dry mouth. The ability to multitask no longer exists so it's all one task, one thought at at time.
No hair on my head, provides a constant cooling factor. Having no hair on my face save a few eyebrows feels great!!! Baby's butt smooth skin all over. Getting a bit more personal, no armpit hair is something that should be bestowed upon us all. I'm sure it served some purpose in human evolution but what purpose does it hold now?
By the end of the week I get a few mouth or throat sores, like cankers. These are from the chemo drugs. I have been prescribed a mouthwash to gargle and swallow to manage these so that I don't get infection. They are mild for me and build for a few days and then resolve themselves.
Week three more energy and less need to balance with downtime. It's the week to try to feel the most back to normal just before the treatment starts. It's a bit of a tease because it's like getting over the flu but you know that you're just going to be hit with it again in a few days. So you feel somewhat good but yet always in anticipation of what is to come.
I meet with my oncologist at the end of week three to check my blood work and review the side effects to get the 'all clear' to proceed with the next treatment. That's the time as well to review the list of questions that I've generated over the prior three weeks. She is used to me arriving with my binder of notes and reports and list of questions.
My oncologist has assured me that the side effects will increase in intensity with each treatment, other than the nausea. So by the end of week three I consider that I'm at my highest energy level that I will be at until treatment is over. A diminishing scale of energy level.
So I guess you could describe ongoing treatments sort of like a roller coaster ride with the swings and cycles and ups and downs. Dang it - I could have used that as my title on this one - 'roller coaster'!!! See, there's a song in everything. Roller Coaster of Love - Ohio Players
One of the most common questions I get these days is "How does the treatment leave me feeling". I'll attempt to describe it. First off, it feels different for everyone so this is my experience only. As my treatment is every three weeks, here's how the cycle seems to flow.
Week one begins with the chemotherapy treatment. The treatment itself is given by IV. The hardest part is trying to find a 'good vein'. I'm not adverse to needles so I find this kind of interesting. Just the prick of the needle and then it's sitting around waiting while the chemo drugs run into your veins. It's a lot of time sitting, reading, chatting with the person in the chair beside you or visitor who has joined you for the day. My treatment involves two medications, one that is administered by IV push, which means it's two large syringes of medication that the nurse injects slowly through the iv over a 20 minute time frame. That medication could burn or irritate the veins so there's a slight bit of tension while you wait to sense any burning or pain. Fortunately this hasn't happened for me. The other drug takes an hour. As I change medications along my treatment plan, the treatment will take up to 6 hours for the IV's.
The days following it is like an ongoing flu that doesn't get worse but then again you never quite get over it before the next treatment comes along. Always just on the edge of nausea, feeling best lying down, short energy bursts, diminished interest in food, constant runny nose and stuffiness. Horizontal rules this week. Sweats at night and interrupted sleeps. My brain is on overload so I have vividly real, bizarre dreams. I recall imagined conversations during the day. My kids are now used to me questioning them about whether a conversation occurred.
Week two the energy starts to return as does the appetite. Brain is out of shock and back to 'normal' which means that my only excuse now is age. A half day of activity such as walking, housework, e-mails can be managed if balanced with a few hours on the couch resting. A little reminder that, yes, you are currently receiving medical treatment. Still the flu-like feeling or harsh allergies with head stuffiness, runny nose, coughing and dry mouth. The ability to multitask no longer exists so it's all one task, one thought at at time.
No hair on my head, provides a constant cooling factor. Having no hair on my face save a few eyebrows feels great!!! Baby's butt smooth skin all over. Getting a bit more personal, no armpit hair is something that should be bestowed upon us all. I'm sure it served some purpose in human evolution but what purpose does it hold now?
By the end of the week I get a few mouth or throat sores, like cankers. These are from the chemo drugs. I have been prescribed a mouthwash to gargle and swallow to manage these so that I don't get infection. They are mild for me and build for a few days and then resolve themselves.
Week three more energy and less need to balance with downtime. It's the week to try to feel the most back to normal just before the treatment starts. It's a bit of a tease because it's like getting over the flu but you know that you're just going to be hit with it again in a few days. So you feel somewhat good but yet always in anticipation of what is to come.
I meet with my oncologist at the end of week three to check my blood work and review the side effects to get the 'all clear' to proceed with the next treatment. That's the time as well to review the list of questions that I've generated over the prior three weeks. She is used to me arriving with my binder of notes and reports and list of questions.
My oncologist has assured me that the side effects will increase in intensity with each treatment, other than the nausea. So by the end of week three I consider that I'm at my highest energy level that I will be at until treatment is over. A diminishing scale of energy level.
So I guess you could describe ongoing treatments sort of like a roller coaster ride with the swings and cycles and ups and downs. Dang it - I could have used that as my title on this one - 'roller coaster'!!! See, there's a song in everything. Roller Coaster of Love - Ohio Players
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