Archives for posts with tag: Coping with cancer

I awoke to the sound of howling wind and rain this morning. I immediately thought of walking three miles in the wind and rain. It was not an appealing thought. I tried to go back to sleep because it was only 5 am. I ended up resting until my alarm went off at 6:30. I did my 10 minutes of mindfulness meditation and then took a look at the weather report. The weather report said rain and wind with “gusts up to 60 miles/hour.” 60 miles an hour?!?!?! Then I clicked on “current conditions” and it said, “Cloudy. Wind 16 mph.” Well 16 is windy but much less gusty than 60 mph. So I got dressed and started my walk.

The best compliment I can give to the first part of the walk was “unpleasant but not horrible”. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d crash landed in the Andes and had to start eating my dead friends to stay alive. Secure in the knowledge that my plight was far less dire that that of the Donner Party’s, I kept walking.

It was not only windy, but the wind was blowing from a different direction than it does typically. The upshot of this is that it was not blocked by the homes I walk by daily. In fact I felt like I was in a little wind tunnel that ran between the houses and up and down the street. I reminded myself that it wasn’t raining.

About two miles into the walk, I thought, “Wow, this is my Forrest Gump moment. I’m like Lt. Dan when he’s up on the mast of the shrimp boat in the middle of a hurricane. As the wind and rain pound him, he yells something along the lines of, “Is that the best you got, God?”

Then I thought, “No, this is not my Forrest Gump moment.” I don’t really feel that way. Plus, I am not a traumatized, embittered, and alcoholic Vietnam veteran. By this time, I had warmed up from walking. I also had the miracle of the hot flash! Instead of being biting and harsh, the wind felt good. So I took the moment of the miracle of the hot flash to envision the wind taking away the fatigue and slightly low spirits I’ve been feeling these last few days.

Does this mean that I’m going to be one of those people who takes the “Polar Bear Plunge” by swimming in the sea during the dead of winter? No. It doesn’t even mean that I’m not going to continue to invest in the best outdoor gear that I can so that I can continue my walks, rain, snow, wind, or shine.

What it does mean is that I’m going to continue to play both the good and bad cards in the hand I was dealt, the best I can. Sanity, now that a cause worth getting out of bed for.

You know you’ve been spending too much time at the hospital when your 14 year-old daughter comes home from school and breezily exclaims, “Oh, you’re home Mom? I thought you had a surgery today.”

 

This post is from 6/7/12. I don’t know if it is the best written of my posts and it certainly isn’t the funniest but it describes a painful part of this experience for me as person who is more accustomed to a caretaker role. I had to adjust to accept help and support and also to knowing that I was asking more of my support system than I could paid back. I hate that! The harder part, however, was telling the parents of the patients in my practice. I also ended up having to tell some of my patients, who are children and teens, when I had to take off 4 weeks after my mastectomy.

I know that my illness has impacted the families I see in that they are less able to depend on me always being there for them. I’ve since had to do professional consultation to assess whether my illness is significantly threatening my competence. This kind of consultation is required by professional ethics and following the ethics code is the law. Since I had already shifted my practice to primarily doing evaluations instead of psychotherapy (I needed to get home earlier and psychotherapy needs to take place during the after school hours, otherwise it is too disruptive for kids), most of my patients were at most inconvenienced by some rescheduling and my needing an extra day to return phone calls or emails. But there were a couple of kids who I thought were going to need me to be more available than I can be in the spring with my TRAM surgery, so I have transferred their care to other providers. Fortunately, the fact that I don’t look sick and actually look healthier than before my diagnosis has been really reassuring to folks.

I have a bit of a headache this morning. Yes, I had the wonderful news yesterday about my genetic test results. I really was quite elated. I’m still very happy about it deep down, but at the moment I am feeling a bit numb. I told a lot of parents about my cancer and a couple of teens. One of them is a girl I just started seeing again for counseling after a couple of year gap. Her mom just finished a really aggressive experimental treatment protocol for cancer (not breast). Ugh. This is not the kind of thing I wanted to have to tell her. The conversation went relatively well and we will see how it goes.

Yesterday, one of the parents I told got pretty teary eyed and another gave me a hug. I also received an email from a physician I know who works at Swedish who found out through the grapevine, had questions, offered help, and upon finding out who my physicians were, told me that he knew them and that I was in “excellent hands.”

Then there’s the constant support of friends and family who have been there for me through this as well as other ups and downs in my life. This last 12 months has been really the most challenging time in my life. (The non-cancer reasons will have to wait for coverage in a separate blog, but I’ll give you a hint. Parenting + teen girl.) Because of this, I do have a concern that comes up from time to time that I am really getting more from family and friends than I am giving back. But it is a manageable concern and I know that it is part of life and how we support one another. It’s not always equal.

So with all of this wonderful life affirming kindness, why the headache this morning? Well it’s not like I don’t see kindness every day because I really do. I think it’s in part because it underscores the gravity of my situation. Another part has to do with being a person who is more comfortable as a caretaker. Although I do like to be taken care of at times, I don’t like it to be my primary role. Finally, as a psychologist, we are trained to be caretakers and there are actual ethnics and laws around keeping our relationships with clients and their families professional. Legally, we are to required to avoid “multiple relationships”. In other words, the only relationship I am to have is to be their psychologist. I can’t be a friend (though I certainly know families with whom I would love to be friends with under different circumstances), I can’t do other business with clients (though I admit I bought Cub Scout popcorn from one of my former clients–he was right in front of the grocery store with a big smile on his face, it was for charity, he’s not roofing my house, I think I’ll be able to keep my license), etc. But because I help kids and their parents with issues close to the heart, the relationships I have, though professional, can also be very close. It’s a unique relationship, it can be an intimate relationship, but one without total reciprocity. The closest analogy is being a parent. As a parent, we have the responsibility to do the lion’s share of giving.

So, although I don’t want you to read this and think that I am fearing that by sharing my cancer status with families that I am being unethical, it is an awkward and uncomfortable experience. And there are a couple of kids who I think may have a particularly hard time with this. One of them I only see every 4-6 weeks, so she may be able to stay out of the loop. But the other kid I see on a weekly basis. I had my monthly consultation group with my psychologist friends/colleagues and I decided to hold off telling him unless I have to and certainly not until I have more information about my treatment plan.

My head is starting to feel a bit better. Thank you, Blog.

Thank you, Cancer Curmudgeon for the nomination for Very Inspirational Blogs. There are rules that come with this nomination: 1) list 7 random facts about myself, 2) nominate 15 other bloggers for the award, and 3) tell the bloggers of their nomination.

I like the spirit of this positive and supportive pyramid (un)scheme so although I am not following the “law” of this, I’m going to try to make this good. So here is an annotated list of a few of the blogs I’ve found very inspiring over the years. Also, I don’t like the idea of choosing some of my fellow WordPress bloggers but not others, I am only talking about blogs outside of WordPress. I know, I am difficult but it is too difficult to choose, especially among my fellow breast cancer bloggers, all of whom I find extraordinarily inspirational.

1) Infertile Ground: On which I tread and sometimes kneel
This is a poignant and superbly written blog about a woman’s experience with fertility treatments over about a three year period. This blog, which I was so lucky to have encountered, was my first experience at seeing the power of blogs in helping people heal. This blog attracted a very devoted following of women struggling with infertility. They formed a very supportive community and it was clear from their comments that the blog was a wonderful resource for them. I no longer have this blog bookmarked because it was inactive for a very long time. But I see now that there has been at least one post this year and perhaps more to come.

2) Marta’s Memories, Etc
This is my mother’s blog, which she has kept since 2010. She and my dad’s lives are inspiring to me. They have been married for 58 years. They live is a big house in the woods where my five brothers and I grew up. My family of eight were supported financially by one salary, my dad’s as a sheet metal worker. And then there was my mom rearing six kids while staying active as a singer in church, which she has done since age six. My family did not live big. My parents set a good example of living within one’s means, being kind to others, working hard, doing things together as a family, and laughing hard. They now have a very happy and active retirement, spending lots of time in nature, in church, and with family. My mom’s blog has great old photos of her family, who started out as Italian immigrants in the greater Seattle area at the turn of the 20th century. She also posts about her life now, her garden, and their home projects. One of my favorite posts is “The wench with a winch“, which chronicles my parents’ use of a large winch to move a fallen Douglas Fir out of their yard.

3) Anti-Cancer: A New Way of Life
This is the blog for the book of the same title, written by the late David Servan-Schreiber, M.D. Ph.D. and now carried on by his colleagues. Okay, so the purpose of the blog is in large part to promote the book. And that is my intention in listing it here, as well. Dr. Servan-Schreiber became a strong force in integrative medicine for cancer care after learning that he had brain cancer as young professor of psychiatry and neuroscience. Integrative medicine is not to be confused with alternative medicine. The strategies discussed in the book, which include nutrition, exercise, reduction of environmental toxins, and mindfulness meditation were intended to be used in combination with conventional cancer treatments. The program described in the book is currently being investigated at the highly esteemed Anderson Cancer Institute in Texas. This book had a very positive impact on my approach to my own treatment, which focuses on using multiple resources to help me live a healthy life. Although the long-term impact of my daily health routines remain to be discovered, eating healthfully, walking every day, and doing mindfulness meditation has made a very positive difference in my health right now.

I know that’s not 15 blogs but I did annotate them! Oh and I almost forgot the seven random facts about me:

1) When I was 14, I wrote an advice column for kids for the Seattle Times called, “Gotta Gripe.”
2) When I was 15, my mom and I got tear-gassed in the goat barn at the Western Washington State Fair.
3) When I was 15, I fell into a man hole (a square one that had not been put back properly) up to my ankle, falling quickly to the ground. Fortunately, I was carrying a big bag on my shoulder, which swung in front of my body, keeping my face from hitting the asphalt. (This occurred during the same week as the goat barn incident.)
4) At 47 years of age, I can still sit in the lotus position and put my foot to my head, though I am the absolute worst at yoga.
5) Although I always say I don’t have a favorite color, it is really red.
6) I once seriously considered becoming a nun.
7) Today my blog reached 1000 comments. Most of them are mine!

It’s raining cats and dogs these days, which is not unusual for this time of year. What is unusual is that I’ve received some unexpected money.

You know the feeling you have after putting on a pair of pants or a jacket that you haven’t worn in awhile and finding a $20 bill in your pocket?

I’ve had that feeling twice this week. First, I received a check for $110 from my professional liability insurance company as a “legacy award” for having a policy with them for over five years. The check will be split between my two office mates and myself as we share a joint policy. I’ve never heard of a “legacy award” of this kind but now is not the time to ask questions; it is time to go to the bank!

A second check arrived for $375! It was a refund from Myriad Labs for overpayment for my genetics testing back in June. I bet John and I both sent a check to them or something.

Compared to the price of my cancer treatment, $411.67 doesn’t seem like a lot. However, it’s over two-thirds of the income I made in the entire month of September when the money had almost totally dried up due to my four weeks off from work to recover from my mastectomy. Fortunately, my income for October was much better and November was even better than October.

I hope you enjoy similar weather in your neck of the woods!

‘Cause there’s no Bandaids stuck on me!

Not surprisingly, breast cancer treatment requires bandages. Not a huge number at any one time, but it seems like there’s always a faithful bandaid or piece of gauze some where on my body from surgery, a blood draw, or a shot. Today I’m pleased to announce that I have been bandage free for three whole days! My skin, it’s intact!

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Half way between Vashon and Fauntleroy marks the beginning of my journey.

Half way between Vashon and Fauntleroy marks the beginning of my journey.

I’ve started using a new program on my smartphone to keep track of how long I walk (time and distance) each morning. Today, after about 25 minutes of walking, I looked at my phone and it said that I’d walked 3.5 miles. Hmm, I usually walk about three miles an hour and since I had not noticed that I was running really fast or roller skating down hill, I took a look at how the program, which uses GPS locating, had mapped out my route.

To my surprise, my starting point was recorded as being at the midpoint of the Vashon Island/Fauntleroy ferry route, in the middle of the Puget Sound. In fact, it looks like I jumped ship, swam north for a bit then swam east to shore at Lincoln Park. At this point I must have flown, because the route runs straight through the park and the park only has a bunch of winding trails. Or maybe I just crawled straight up the steep hill along the beach, making my way through brush, trees, and poison oak. That couldn’t be because my clothes weren’t the least bit muddy when I came home and that would have been a very slow way to travel. I must have flown and done so very fast. Actually, I couldn’t have swum that fast, either, even if I were Diana Nyad, rather than the poor swimmer that I am. So I must have flown from the ferry and over Lincoln Park.

After flying over the park, the route shows that I actually zig zagged through streets, on which I actually remembered walking.

I am very happy with the apparent improvement in my physical fitness but a little worried about my memory. On the bright side, I got something good out of breast cancer. Breast Cancer, you gave me the gift of flight!

Or maybe it was just solar flares or something, throwing off my GPS navigation.

Science and logic, you take the fun out of everything!

(Cancer, you’re back on my shit list.)

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Lindbergh High School Reunion '82, '83, '84, '85

Join us this summer for our reunion in Renton, WA!

George Lakoff

George Lakoff has retired as Distinguished Professor of Cognitive Science and Linguistics at the University of California at Berkeley. His newest book "The Neural Mind" is now available.

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