And then what?

It's been one week since I rang the bell.  

I was going to write here but this past week has been a blur of sleep and pain and joy.  My skin is slowly healing and I am adjusting to all medications.  Soon I will be able to walk around with no pain when I move my arm and I can't wait.

I am officially done now.  No more daily appointments of getting radiated.  No more drop offs of food.  No more feeling taken care of by medical experts.  And for that, I am happy. 

So how is it that I feel scared?  I feel a bit alone.  Not sure what I do next.  

But after I talk to my dear friend Gary, he reminds me that I take the time to heal.  He reminds me in his gentle strong way that I get back to being Lisa, the one that I was before I was diagnosed.  He's right.  I get back to being an artist, and a mother, a wife and a friend and not the full time care giver of this stupid disease.  In fact, I think that if I have learnt more than anything that I can't NOT get back to being me. 

Of course, I am different.  Cancer changes your brain, the way you think and all of that.  For me, it's clarified who my community is, and reminded me of the love they have for me and I for them.  It's also strengthened my believe in stories. 

So I ask, now what?

It's time for stories of healing, and survival.  It's time to read more stories.  To create art of these stories and to share that far and wide.  

When I started this blog it was about my cancer.  But it was also about my art and life.  Indeed.  I have shared many stories of cancer, now it's time to share my art that will help me heal from these past months.  I can't wait to share. 

Thoughts

Here are some thoughts and facts about my recent days. 

1. Today I finally started radiation. 

Four weeks of radiation five days a week.  It's going to be a challenge, and I might go a bit cuckoo, but I have started. 

2. I sometimes feel guilty.  

It's been a long time since I have written.  I think that I have felt stuck with my thoughts about all of this.  I have been feeling goodish, and so it felt strange to talk about being sick with cancer, because I wasn't sick.  That caused a strange feeling of guilt. I know so many others who are sicker, with more complicated situations, and who am I to complain, and so on and so forth.  

I have been reaching out to some lovely women who have gone through this, and they assure me that any stage of this disease is bad because it is cancer.  It is tough and it changes us.  And so enough with guilt. It doesn't help anyone. It just makes me paralyzed. 

3.  Soup helps.  

Two weeks ago I started a hormone blocker called Tamoxifen which blocks my estrogen.  I will be taking that for ten years.  It has many strange side effects and essentially I have been put into medical menopause - BUT - I can still get pregnant. NO FAIR!  Anyhow, as I have started feeling not so good, the one thing that helps is soup.  Simple, homemade soup. 

4. Radiation is strange. 

 I can't help think about all of the pop culture references to radiation and how it breeds sea monsters, two headed goats and other such creatures.  I also know what real radiation has done to large groups of people in Hiroshima and Chernobyl.  Horrible.  I now have to flip that thought around and make it my friend.  Weird.  Still trying to figure this one out. 

5.  Enough is enough. 

When I met with a therapist, she couldn't believe how much trauma I have been through in the past 6  years.  2 miscarriages, a dad with cancer, a baby in hospital with very serious ailments (max is much better and has a very good belly scar) , a car accident, death of my father and NOW this diagnosis of breast cancer.  Come on, world.  I am a nice person.  After this is all done,  please take a hiatus of crappy happenings for me, okay?  At least one year of greatness with no big crappy traumatic thing. I am only so strong. 

6. People really are kind and generous

I did a GoFundMe campaign over here https://www.gofundme.com/LisaPNBreastCancer.  Thanks to the great help of my friend Lori Yates (also an amazing musician!) who urged me to put it up. I was iffy about doing it, but it has really helped me and my little family feel some relief as we move through this time of treatment and healing.  People who I have known forever donated, and people who I have not seen for years, next to total strangers.  Yeesh.  My heart is full.  

7.  Sometimes cat videos will make you smile. 

There is nothing more to this.  Just that the little things matter. 

8.  Little people make everything better. 

Here is the evidence.  Me and my son Max.  My heart grows ten times bigger every time I see it. 

Taking Time

I haven't written in 21 days. 

That's 3 weeks.  

I have been a bit stuck, and quiet which for me is a bit rare.  

I am in limbo. 

I found out on Tuesday that my final diagnosis is Stage 1 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, ER+, PR+, HER2-. I know that is a lot of gobbeldy gook, but in the end it means that  I will be getting 4 weeks of radiation and will be put on a hormone blocker for either 5 or 10 years of my life and will have many of the effects of menopause without actually being in menopause.  For the most part, it's a good diagnosis and it hasn't spread which is very positive. 

In two weeks I will make the final decision on whether or not to do chemotherapy based on the results of a test that has been sent to California which will tell us more about the possibility of recurrence.  I am seriously hoping for good results. I don't want to do chemotherapy. 

In the mean time, I take my time to think and to live. I do what is important to me.  I create art and live as fully as I can.  

But there is one thing.  Emotionally, I am exhausted.  Being in limbo for about 2 months straight is hard.  

I am a woman who some in the business world call a Quick Start. I get a gazillion ideas daily and the ones that stick I initiate as soon as possible.   After I finish that initiative, I get another idea aand want to move onto that.  So when I was diagnosed on June 17, I thought that I would immediately start treatments. I was like hup hup - let's get this underway.   But things take time.  Tests need to be done, and treatments seriously considered.  There is no jumping into an idea quickly unless the treatment plan is clear from the get go.  And that is not my situation.  

So I learn how to take my time.  How not to freak out.  How to educate myself in a way that isn't alarming but healing.  How to deal with friends who can't deal with the diagnosis and vanish from my life.  I am taking classes at the local cancer centre and am doing a few secret projects that keep me feeling creatively inspired.  

For a few days I was feeling guilty about keeping this blog.  There are so many others in much more dire situations, and that along with others telling me how great my diagnosis is left me wondering what my problem is.  My diagnosis is positive and they oncologists feel good about finding it very early.  And just a couple of nights ago,  I realized that was stupid.  I have cancer.  It's important that I don't discredit my experience, because at the end of the day this is a horrible disease no matter what stage and I do believe that it has changed my outlook on life.  For better and for worse.  

Tomorrow is my son's 6th Birthday.  We will spend the day at the beach surrounded by our loved ones.  There is no other thing I would rather be doing.  Taking time out to celebrate his life, and soak in the lake, and enjoy our time together. 

I urge you to take the time to be with your loved ones.  Do what you want.  Take your time. Because right now, it's yours to take. 

Books and Boobs

The house is quiet.  My son is asleep and my mother and husband have stepped out for an hour.  I am sitting on my couch surrounded by my 2 cats and a dog and I feel calm.  It's a deep calm that has only come upon me in the past 15 minutes as the house settles and everything falls asleep as the sun sets and the darkness comes. 

Tomorrow is my surgery.  I will be having a lumpectomy and a sentinel node biopsy, which in normal talk means that they will remove the tumour and 3 lymph nodes to see if the cancer has spread.  I have been meditating that it hasn't, and hope for the best possible outcome.  

It's been a flurry of activity here the past few days. Friends I've known for ages, and then new ones that I have only recently connected with have been taking care of me, and bringing my little family all sorts of sustenance.  I am so grateful for this community that I am a part of.  I feel full of love, and to feel that the day before surgery, well, that feels like magic.  

A lot of my visitors have been asking how I found my lump.  It's a bit of a mystery to the doctors too, as it isn't detectable on the mammogram.  The response to that question is a bit odd.  The way I found my lump was by reading. 

I read every day.  I sometimes read a few pages.  Sometimes 5 chapters, and sometimes a whole book.  It's part of what makes me focus, an act that connects me to the human spirit, and it inspires me to live honest and true every day of my life.  Reading makes me feel less alone in the world. 

Now, when I read I drink tea. Sometimes I snack and I often touch my boobs.  It's not a sexual thing, because believe me,  after you have a baby and you breastfeed, breasts are not really sexual, they are more like comfort givers. 

The upside of reading daily, is touching your boobs daily and you know what they feel like.  So the moment that a funny little lump appeared, I knew that something was wrong.    Fast forward to today, and the doctors can not believe that I found this myself. If it weren't for the time I spend reading and poking my boobs, I would not have found this lump, and time would have passed and the lump would be much larger and things would have been much different. 

So I feel like I owe the Book Gods.  I will never stop reading.  I will always have a stack of books by my bed side.  I will always tell people to read books, and now, I will also urge them to touch their boobies as they read.  

When i was a kid there was a lot of ads about monthly breast exams.  But somehow they illustrated it in a rather creepy way.  I never liked them and I never really followed the instructions. 

So, to all of the women and men in the world, no matter what age you are, please please touch your boobs on a regular basis.  Read Books. Touch Your Boobs.  It is how i found my cancer so early. 

This time tomorrow I will be recuperating from surgery and the tumour will be out of my body.  To me, this is a thing to celebrate.  I think it will be the perfect time to start reading a new book.  

Information and Care

This morning I had an appointment at Wellwood.  Wellwood is an excellent cancer care centre in Hamilton that takes care of things other than the medical diagnostic bits. They take care of people on the whole, offering yoga, tai chi, meditation, together with support for cancer survivors, their families and caregivers.  

A few days after I was diagnosed, I starting searching for a place where I could get information. You see, I am an information junkie.  For those of you who know me personally, you know that I have worked in bookstores for over 20 years.  My house is full of books, too many books, maybe, but that's okay. Because I love books. To me, they are friends, sources of information, as well as inspirations.  I have books on lots of things.  Books for kids, books for creativity, books on books and books with information.  It's the way that I figure out what i don't know what to do.  I read, and read and read.  I look for places to go, for things to do, I look for resources.  

I was told by a handful of friends, that Wellwood had those resources and more. So off I went. 

The first time I visited I drove up to the new building on Sanatorium Rd. I sat outside and cried in my car.  I just didn't want to have cancer.  I really felt like, it just wasn't fair.  I have a 5 year old, and an amazing husband, and I have a lot of art to create. Cancer should happen to old people, not to people like me.  Of course, I know that cancer hits everyone, regardless of age, gender, religion.  This stupid horrible disease gets everyone. 

When I walked in, I was greeted by a wonderful woman.  She sat me down and talked with me.  Not about the specifics of my diagnosis, but about how I was feeling.  She told me about the center, and more than anything, she made me feel better.  She calmed me and reminded me to breathe.  At the end of our talking, I found myself sitting on the floor in their library surrounded by books.  I was in my happy place.  Books about coping, books about health and books about cancer. Of course. I signed out a few books and left feeling hopeful. 

Today's stash of books on cancer along with a pillow for my post surgery healing!

This morning I went for a reiki appointment.  I was a bit skeptical at first, because I am someone who likes hard, deep massage, not little fluffy touches. I am slightly allergic to hooky dooky new agey music, but I am aware that I need to be open to as many options as possible. When the session started my monkey mind was active and negative.  As she placed her hands on my eyes, my arms and my hands, voices in my head were telling me how this is such a waste of time.  By the end of the session, I was calmed, with visualizations of blues behind my eyes and energy flowing. On my face was a smile. 

Before I left, I went to the library.  I returned some books and took out some new titles. I talked with another one of the workers at the centre. She gave me more information, about programs and groups, and she did so in a way that wasn't scary or overwhelming.  

After I left, I was struck by the amount of care I had felt in this centre.  The kindness of those who worked and volunteered there.  I do still wonder why this cancer found me, hadn't I had enough hardship in the past few years?  But now, I realize that it isn't personal, and that even though it hits us all, that there are resources, and places, and most importantly people who can help.