The Race

I went to my first NASCAR race recently, one of the perks of where I work.  I got pit passes, got up close to the drivers pit crew, saw all the prep they do during the race and when the car comes into pit row (ok so if I get the names of things wrong sorry, I play hockey, watching NASCAR to me reminds me of when I lived by the 101 freeway in the San Fernando Valley)

I am always thinking of my next blog, or podcast, what inspiring survivor I can get on the podcast, what I should write next.  I was uploading my race photos to facebook and I thought this kind of reminds me of treatment.

The race was my cancer experience.  While I was in the race, time stands still, moves slow.  For others it is just another day, minutes are regular minutes hours are hours days are days. 

The noise of the race was deafening.  That reminds me of when the doc first tells you "It's cancer"  Suddenly words run together, people are talking but it doesn't make sense.  You can hear your own heartbeat in the sound of the race.

The docs, nurses medical staff are your pit crew. All of the pit crew around the car reminded me of surgery, you are almost out of it, there are people around that you don't know and they are all checking on you.

"Checking under the hood"  as I like to call it when they do a breast exam.  The adding of the oil, like a blood draw, well you get the analogies.  Although I do think a blood draw would be less upsetting to me if the needles made that whirr sound like the pneumatic drill does in the race.

Your caregiver is your pit boss.  Making sure everything goes smoothly.  Not that that is entirely possible.  No one can foresee nausea, insomnia or any of the other lovely side effects that go along with cancer, but if it wasn't for your pit boss, your race would be more difficult

Everyones race experience is different.  Some go through treatment with little side effects, no major crashes to speak of.  Others have their cars in pit row the whole time of the race.  I have to say I was somewhere in between. 

Once the treatment is over, some people think the race is over, but there could be more races, meaning, complications, more surgeries, recurrance, depression, entirely new cancers.  Different races, different tracks.

We are all just looking to cross the finish line.  Doesn't matter if we get the checkered flag.  Just matters that that we finish the race, that we beat cancer.

I am looking forward to the time when no one will have to race.

Mel is the co-host/producer of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am-Noon on wmktthetalkstation.com.  Also available as a podcast.

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com

How Cancer Survivors Can Stay Positive

                                Another guest blogger.  Enjoy.

It’s a dreaded disease whose very name is enough to paralyze people with fear simply because survival rates are very low. So if you’re a cancer survivor, you know you’re among the select few who have beaten this horrific disease that literally eats away at your body. Death comes quickly to some who are afflicted with cancer; to others, it comes after a long and painful struggle to survive. But to those who actually become cancer-free after coping with the rigors of chemotherapy and other forms of treatment, the news comes as more of a relief than something to be elated about. This is more because cancer is notorious for returning with a vengeance, even years after you’ve been cleared of the disease.


I’ve seen both sides of the coin – I lost an uncle to colorectal cancer nine months after it was diagnosed, and I saw my grandmother beat breast cancer and live for another 20 years before she died of natural causes. So I know how fickle cancer can be – it steals life in one breath and also allows you to beat death if you’re lucky enough.

The key to surviving cancer is luck – you need to be lucky enough to detect and diagnose it in the early stages, you need luck with finding the right and most aggressive form of treatment, and most of all, you must get lucky in being able to rid your body of every last cancerous cell. Once you achieve all this, you can start to look to a positive future, one that is untainted by cancer.

The problem with cancer is that it can come back with a vengeance, so you need to do your best to stay positive in the years following your successful treatment of the disease, and the best way to do this is to:

• Focus on all that is positive with your life: You may or may not suffer a relapse, but it’s not wise to spend your life worrying about one. Focus on the fact that you’re healthy now and that you have been given the gift of life a second time. Look forward to living life fully and doing all that you want to do. And be grateful for all that you have rather than regretting the time you’ve lost to battling the disease.

• Join a support group: You may still be overwhelmed by the intensity of your experience, and if family members and friends do not seem to understand your emotional turbulence, find a support group of survivors like yourself who are more in tune with your condition. When you’re able to give vent to your feelings and listen to the stories of other survivors, you feel positive and uplifted.

• Follow up on your medical checks: You may be cancer-free, but it’s best to continue to monitor your condition and ensure that the disease does not return. The earlier you spot any signs of cancer, the sooner it is to get rid of it. Also, you feel more confident when you get yourself checked and find that you’re still free of the disease.


About the guest blogger:
This guest post is contributed by Kathy Wilson, who writes on the topic of      X-Ray Technician Schools .     She welcomes your comments at her email id:    kathywilson1983@gmail.com

The importance of vigilance

Kari's survivor story

Thanks to Dana Farber Cancer Institute for allowing me to repost

Bio of the host of video:
Dr. Kenneth Miller, medical director of Dana-Farber's Lance Armstrong Foundation Adult Cancer Survivorship Program knows that the end of cancer treatment is not the end of the cancer experience. As an oncologist, and a husband of a two-time cancer survivor, Dr. Miller knows that survivors need to find a new balance in life, one that recognizes where they’ve been medically, and where they’re going for a healthy future. The Living Well Beyond Cancer video series available for viewing online at www.dana-farber.org/livingwellbeyondcancer features Miller interviewing experts from the fields of oncology, psychology, nutrition, and more, outlining many of the issues survivors typically face, from fear of recurrence to long-term health concerns to creating a wellness plan.

Cure or Cancer Free?

I got into a heated debate, well lets say argument with a friend of mine about doctors using the word cure.  Once again, I have to say  this is my personal opinion, which will, I am sure piss some people off. I get stubborn that way.  I have my own beliefs.  I am not saying they are right, they are just mine.  Like I was telling my friend.  This is only my opinion, you don't have to like it, and if everyone had the same opinion as me the world would be a pretty boring place.

I hate it when doctors use the word cure when describing cancer.  Let's be honest.  There is no cure, not for one tiny little variant strain of any cancer. I wish to God there was.  I wish all oncologists would be put out of business, but that is not the case.

My friend asked me why it bothered me so much, Here is why: THERE IS NO CURE FOR CANCER.  For me, my definition, cure means there is 100% chance that your cancer will not return.  No doctor can say that, because, well once again, no cure. 

After I argued with my friend, I googled cure for cancer, just to see what I would come up with. Couldn't find anything listed.  Now I hoped against all hopes that I was wrong, that I would see something  on oncolink or something posted from the New England Journal of Medicine. 

Nothing.

I am cancer free, that is what the surgeon told me when he removed the cancerous tumor from my body.  If I was cured, then I would have assumed there would have been no need for the months of chemo, radiation and targeted gene therapy afterwards.

But I went through all that, and I still take tamoxifen, and I will until 2012.  I still get blood tests and scans, and have appointments, and I still worry a little every time,  because I am not cured, but because I am cancer free. 

I will advocate, I will blog, I will keep on doing my podcast.


Until there's a cure.

Mel is the producer of The Vic McCarty Show. Listen Live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand and on itunes

Advocate..

 

 

 Another guest blogger

When this whole thing started, meaning, form the moment I was told, "You have cancer." (and actually, those weren't the words, they weren't even speaking directly to me. They were telling my mom, and said, "She has cancer." and I just happened to be laying in the hospital bed next to her, drugged up from a 9 hour spinal fusion surgery, and overheard them. Either way, same impact.) and for quite some time after being diagnosed, any kind of cancer campaigning really rubbed me the wrong way. Pink ribbons made me angry. And I'll admit, even now, pink buckets of KFC for cancer just seems inane. Part of that is my opinions about the fast food industry, but something about the way cancer awareness is presented to the public, is a bit euphemistic, to the point of being cutesy.

But I'm experiencing, both with myself and through meeting cancer survivors, that once people reach a certain comfort level in their own situations, that there's almost a natural progression towards advocacy and awareness, and just wanting to help. 

My biggest topic, I want to advocate, and actually bring change to, is early detection. And not just to the public, but to the medical industry, as well. Here's a little background on me: I'm 29 now, I was diagnosed 2 years ago at 27. There is no history of breast cancer on my mother's side, my father's sister died of breast cancer at 50. I was 24 at the time, so breast cancer didn't seem like an immediate concern then, though looking back, I probably already had it. Plus, doctor's tell me that paternal genetics don't really factor in, anyway. Well, ok then.

 

But I wasn't a complete dullard. I had been doing self exams in the shower from the time I was a teenager. My mom had this model her obgyn gave her of this little squishy plastic breast with some, what I can only assume were, marbles embedded in it. It hung in the shower, and I felt it, and felt my own, and aside from it not even feeling like a real breast, I never felt anything even remotely close to this doughy, plasticine-like, marble filled maquette in my own breasts. Granted, I was just a teenager at this point, but I continued self exams throughout my 20's, and was told a variety of different methods for examining, and what to look for. I was told, "Lumpy, like oatmeal, was ok lumpy." Well, what kind of oatmeal are we talking about here?? I like my oatmeal lumpy. I was told not to dig around in the breast, that abnormalities would be felt with a flat hand. I was told pain is an indicator, but that premenstrual pain and firming was totally normal. And I was told that every woman has one breast that's larger than the other.

Here's what I did find: one breast was bigger than the other, and before my periods, it would get firm and painful, and the nipple seemed kind of anchored to the interior of the breast, where the other did not. I told my obgyn, who did an exam, and told me to lay off the caffeine. This was probably 6 months before I was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. At that point my main concern was all the other pain I was having. Back pain, chest pain, trouble breathing. I went to several other specialists to address all these other pains, no one really came up with anything. Muscle spasm, was one guess, pneumonia, was another. One of the specialists even did a breast exam. He told me it was most likely Costochondritis, an infection of the ribcage, and it would go away. The night before I woke up unable to walk, with no feeling in my legs, and went to the hospital to learn I had a broken back caused by the metastasis, I remember standing in front the mirror looking at my body, and wondering why I was in so much pain. My whole chest seemed misshapen, and there were dark veins running in the direction of my left breast. Once I was diagnosed the oncologist even said that my tumor is not easy to locate. It was large, and flat, and just kind of blended in. Looking back, that firmness I felt around my periods was probably the closest I ever was to detecting it before it metastasized. But I did mention that to my doctor's, and was told it was pretty normal, just stop drinking coffee. So I don't know what else I could have done to catch it any earlier.

I recently reconnected with a friend and told her my story. She is 32, and said that she has similar symptoms with her breasts, pain, firmness, size difference, even chest pain. I don't want to make anyone paranoid, or turn them into a hypochondriac, so I just told her to see her doctor. She did... they told her to stop drinking coffee. Hearing those words again, made me shudder. I understand it would be unlikely, for a friend of mine to have the the exact same condition, but because I have it, there's no way I can sit here and say it's not a very REAL possibility. Because it is REAL for me. And the sad truth is that cancer IS almost that common.

So my dilemma is, what do I do with this? How can my story help? Especially since my story consists of me having next to no symptoms until it was already advanced! I don't know how that's supposed to help anyone? But I do feel the first step is putting my story out there, and seeing what comes from that.

 

 I understand the medical industry is not going to start doing mammograms on every 25 year old, with no maternal family history of cancer, who's breasts hurt occasionally. But maybe if people weren't only specifically looking for perfectly round marbles, or extra lumpy oatmeal, or knew that zombie veins on their chest might mean more than just poor circulation, and if doctors exams were a little less generic, and their patients concerns weren't dismissed due to age.... then maybe, someone, anyone, might not find themselves where I am now. And that would be something.

 

About the guest blogger:

Kourtney Logan Lampedecchio was diagnosed with stage IV HER2/neu positive breast cancer at the age of 27. Upon discovery it had already metastasized to her spine, deteriorating the T3, 4, and 5 vertebrae, requiring a spinal fusion surgery. Recently, 12 brain metastasis where discovered, and she just finished a course of radiation to treat those. Through it all, Kourtney continues to pursue her passions of spending time with her horse and dog, friends and family, who are her support system, and without them would be lost. She is also continuing to pursue her professional and academic goals of becoming a scenic designer for theatre, by working freelance in the Sacramento, CA area, and attending graduate school in the fall at UC Davis, where she is also currently undergoing treatment. She is now 29, and lives with her family in Placerville, CA. 

You can check out her blog at http://www.kourtneylogan.blogspot.com/
 

Battling your demons

This blog entry has been a long time coming.  I have been depressed.  I didn't really realize it until just recently when I talked to my doctor.  It may come as a shock to a lot of people, as I hid it very well.  

Looking back I think it has been at least since December since the depression started to affect me.  I used to be a gym rat, but I haven't really been to the gym in a long time.  Oh sure I can make excuses like I was tired or work, but I face the fact that it was depression.

My doctor asked me if my depression was so bad I couldn't get out of bed, I laughed to myself, thinking, well I wouldn't have a job if I couldn't get out of bed now would I?  I still have my sense of humor.

I would do just enough to skate by at work too.  You are probably thinking, uh you work at a radio station, you don't have the missile launch codes or anything like that how can you just skate by?

Well I would do just enough.  On the outside to everyone else I looked happy and fine, in my head I was freaking out over everything, everything would make me upset.  You name it, it would probably upset me.

Cancer is easy for me to understand.  Cells reproduce into a tumor. Take out the tumor, no cancer.  In the simplest of terms right?

Depression, as described by dictionary.com is:

sadness; gloom; dejection,  a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal; sadness greater and more prolonged than that warranted by any objective reason

That explains it, that is how I felt.  Its not something you can just "get over"  Believe me I tried.  I had hoped it was just some passing thing.  That the chemicals in my brain would be jacked just enough to make me upset and sad. 

I tried to read about it Serotonin-norepinephrine are the chemicals in the brain, but blah blah medical terminology, I got distracted.  

People have said to me when I tell them I have been depressed, well its no wonder you have been through a lot.  Yeah but I should be able to handle this shouldn't I?  After all its been over a year since I have been done with treatment.  I shouldn't be feeling this way.  At least that is what I would tell myself, fighting my own sad or angry thoughts, trying to make them stop.  I survived cancer, and the treatment and now some chemicals in my head aren't reacting properly.

I was taking one pill (effexor) once a day to deal with my depression (as I said before in other blogs, I have a hard time asking for help) 

I met with my doc for a routine appointment and she was concerned about my mood.  Even that pissed me off a little (that should have told me something I thought to myself what do I have to be a happy freaking monkey all the time?)

The final straw that made me realize I needed help was when I thought someone unfriended me on facebook.  I started to cry.  I was at work and doing a live airshift.  I texted a mutual friend of mine and we chatted about it.  Turns out our friend's facebook page was hacked and she had to turn it off.

The next day I called the doctor and asked if I could take effexor twice a day.  It has made a world of difference.  

The moral of my story:  Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need to.  Your doctor, your priest, a therapist, whomever.  You are not in this fight alone.  At times it may feel like it is just you against the world, but that is not the case.  

Trust me, I know.

Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon eastern on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my show The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now and also available on Itunes

D'OUGH!!!

I still have side effects related to cancer.  Just another reminder of the cancer I had.

"Well you are cured now aren't you?"   Is something I hear often. Really? Last I checked there was no cure for any cancer.  No I am not cured.  I am in remission, in 2012 I will be considered cancer free, that will have been 5 years since diagnosis.  I am not cured.  The day there is a cure for my cancer, or any cancer for that matter I will be celebrating.

It seems that people assume that when you are done with cancer treatment you are done with cancer. 

That isn't always the case.  Side effects can linger for months even years after treatment. 

"Well you are done with treatment you are fine now aren't you?"

 

For the most part I would say yes.  But that is not always the case.

Those of us who have these side effects get used to them.  I have had side effects last longer than treatment.  My neuropathy for example lasted for 20 months, treatment for 14.  Every so often I feel a twinge in my foot.  

Hot flashes are another side effect I have.  I am not going through menopause, it is a side effect of tamoxifen, a cancer fighting drug I am taking until 2013.  I kind of wish I was going through menopause.  I never really wanted to have kids, as a matter of fact when the oncologist said the chemo might put me into early menopause I actually said  SWEET!   I am sure that was not the reaction my oncologist was expecting.

Trying to adjust to this "new normal" has been difficult.  Survivorship has been difficult. It takes a while to get back to how you felt before, or even close to how you felt.

Depression is a struggle for me.  Cancer makes sense to me, in a way, there is a tumor, you remove it, cancer's gone.  Depression, oh well its the serotonin and norepinephrine, in your brain, its a chemical imbalance, it might go away it might not.  Anti depressants work for me.  Its not something you can just "get over."  Some people have it, some people don't.  One of the list of the many side effects on the menu.  Still wishing I could have picked and choosed my side effects.

Because of cancer I am in debt, not as bad as some, worse than others.  Another reason for my depression. 

"Well there is nothing you can do about it so don't worry about it."  is what people tell me.  Ok those damn debt collectors who call expecting something, when I have nothing to give them.  Easier said than done.  When the blinking light on the answering machine reminds me that So and so called from some collection agency and they want their money.  "I want to give you your money I don't have it/"  "Can't you just make a small payment."   Wow what a great idea, I never thought about that.  I am actually being sued by a credit card company for 1400 dollars.   I owe the hospital ten times that amount, they aren't suing me.  

What's in your wallet?  

Uh not much....

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen Live Monday-Friday 10am-noon on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com  Available on demand now and on itunes

THE SCAR

I never really had a scar until I had my lumpectomy. Before that I only had one tiny scar on my knee.  Got that from our dog Tiger, a german shepard mix, who decided, when I was in junior high or high school, to chase something and he dragged me down the the ground.  Barely noticeable to me.

Now including I have 3 scars, one on my knee, one from my lumpectomy and a scar from the infusion port.

It took me a while to get used to seeing the big lumpectomy scar.  I am glad my breast was able to be saved, and I can never wear a shirt and show off my cleavage (well I guess I could but that scar would turn heads more than my cleavage ever would.)

When I first got home from surgery I remember looking at my scar, hating it, glad that the cancer was gone, but hating the fact that I had a constant reminder of surgery, of cancer, of the fact that life was going to be different from here on out.  It took me a long time to get used to that scar. 

I had everything happen to me pretty quickly, diagnosis to surgery to chemo was less than two months, Sept 18th-diagnosis, Oct 9-Surgery, November 12 chemo.  Somewhere between lumpectomy surgery and chemo I had surgery for to put the port in.  I was glad that I had that put in because chemo chews up your veins, but I hated seeing that fucking thing every day.  It looked like a little bottlecap underneath my skin. I couldn't anything that I really loved to do (hockey, skiing etc) because you could get seriously injured if you hit that thing.  Even when I was exercising I would move a certain way and that would hurt. I totally recommend getting a port, but I was so fucking grateful when it was removed.

My surgeon wanted to know if I wanted to keep it. Some people do as a reminder. No way. Thanks for the memories doc, but throw that god damn thing away. I have enough memories of all the shit I went through.

My lumpectomy scar is perfect for that.

Some of where the cancer was cut out is numb and will never get feeling back.  Some of the feeling has come back.  That is normal, my surgeon says.  Like I said, glad I got to keep my breast.  I remember thinking waayy back when I first met my surgeon he asked if I wanted a full mastectomy on my right breast.

Holy shit,I thought,  it was difficult enough to think about, that I have cancer, that I have to have surgery, wondering how the fuck am I going to pay for all this, now you are asking me if I want you to lop off a part of my body.  Hell no.  (Although I am pretty sure at the time I didn't say that but in the back of my mind that is what I was thinking)

I remember thinking after seeing that scar, that Doug would never think that I would ever be attractive again.  Obviously that is and never was the case, but in my mind, during chemo, that god damn napalm they give you, caused my hair loss and my weight loss (when I thought I looked like a space alien) the times when I couldn't eat, when I was so fucking fatigued from cancer and then I couldn't sleep, when I forgot about those things for a moment, there would always be that scar.

Having that scar took a long time for me to get used to. 

I know some people equate their scars to a badge of honor.

I don't. 

The scar is now just a part of me.


Mel is the producer/co~host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern time on wmktthetalkstation.com 

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand and also available on itunes.

Celebration list or a list of moments

I was recently talking to a friend of mine, and fellow warrior about how I hate the term Bucket List.  First of all I watched the movie during my treatment, got it as a screener from a group I belong to.  Sometimes they don't tell you what the movies are about.  Again I think holy shit another freakin movie about cancer, can't get away from it.

 The Bucket list.  I know its supposed to make you think of all great things to do before you die or kick the bucket.  Now I get what they were going for, in the basic sense, Jack Nicholson, Morgan Freeman, add a bit of cancer and hilarity ensues right?  Two guys from the opposite end of the spectrum coming together at the end of their life and creating a list of things they want to do before they die.

Why focus on the negative part?  Like I said before I was lamenting about this to a fellow warrior and she said don't call it a bucket list just a list of moments.

I like that

I will call it my celebration list.

I, like many survivors, have faced my own mortality, and at any age that is difficult and scary, so I don't want to focus on things to do before I die, I want to focus on things to do while I am still here, alive and kicking


My celebration list, which isn't really written down, it is, like my friend said, a list of moments.

I know no one here gets out alive, but we all want to be a little scrappy while we are here, so lets not focus on the die part, bucket, kick the bucket etc. (if director of The Bucket List Rob Reiner were here I would call him a meathead like his nemesis Archie Bunker did in the tv series All in the family)

Mel is the producer of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com.  Available on demand now and also available on itunes.

Deja-Vu all over again....

Definition of Deja-Vu by Free Dictionary.com

Noun- The experience of thinking that a new situation had occurred before

an experience that causes you to remember something

I recently found out a survivor friend of mine had a new cancer.  Not a recurrance, but a brand new cancer.  The drugs they give you to get rid of the cancer that you have can cause more cancer, and even different cancers.  Pretty ironic.  That is one scary part about cancer.  You can feel totally fine and it can sneak up on you.

I had an ultrasound the other day.  A pelvic ultrasound.  Normally these tests don't worry me, but for some reason this one really got in my head, don't ask me why.  Maybe it was just the culmination of stress from everyday  life that manifested itself into this one test.

 I am used to tests, it gets to be kind of routine, part of your daily life, unfortunately.  I am always interested in watching the screen when I get a scan.  Not like I have a damn clue of what I am looking at now, white with a lot of dark spots, looks like the fucking moon, ok is that good or bad?  Tech doesn't say, can't say, not allowed to.  (Remember I have already gotten one tech in trouble so my chart is probably flagged like Elaine's chart was in Seinfeld, labeled a trouble maker)

I remember looking down at the shirt I was wearing. Life is Good.  God it would be so ironic if this was the day they scanned me and I had more cancer.

So the test was on Thursday.  Wait for the results.  Over the weekend, oh yeah a holiday weekend.  72 hours to have all sorts of  thoughts run through my head, none of them helpful to me or my health.  Just breathe, it will be ok, I am thinking, what if that black spot is a tumor, what if cancer is back? How do the techs and radiologist tell what all that stuff is?  It looks like a picture of the moon to me. Shit, I want to have a good weekend, but I couldn't get it out of my head.  I am my own worst enemy.  Try to be happy, not think about it.  I can't always be happy.  Thinking about the possibility about having another cancer doesn't leave you with the sunshine and puppies feeling. The whole 3 day weekend goes by and its Tuesday.

Call the doc, leave a message.

No response.

The universe has its own timetable.  As much as I would hope that my pelvic ultrasound of what looks like the sea of tranquility will be read by the radiologist before anyone elses I know that is most likely not the case.

I think to myself, don't they know how stressed out I am about this?  How could they honestly?  I try to avoid the doctor as much as I can.  Not that I am not grateful for what they have done for me, but the less I see them the better I feel.  As a patient I am proactive, but I also realize that sometimes I am a pain in the ass. (first step to recovery is admitting your problem)

Wednesday.  Call the docs office, instead of going to voicemail I get the office manager Carla, tell her I would like the results of my test if they have them that would be great because, as I have written before, I am not a patient patient, I hate waiting, despise it I hate being late to things, even by a few minutes.  I believe it is some kind of ocd with me. Carla puts me on hold.  The doctor picks up the line.  No masses, good I think to myself, I really shouldn't look at ultrasounds again, looks like the moon, might see Neil Armstrong on there.

But...

There is always a but.

Since the one of the drugs I take stops my period, a side effect I was happy to have, the endometrius builds up, that is basically the blood that you would have shed if you had a period.  That is normal.  No period.  Stuff stays somewhere.  They want to biopsy it just to make sure.  Tamoxifen can cause endometrial cancer.  Anti cancer drugs that cause cancer.  Still want to pick and choose my side effects.  So she explains to me about what all is involved in an endometrial biopsy.  It is pretty much like a pap test only they take a part of the endometrius.

So why is it deja-vu all over again.  I think back to my friend, the breast cancer survivor.  I just saw her in October at a cancer society fundraiser. Three short months ago. She looked great.  Now she has a new different cancer.

Monday I have my biopsy.

Then once again.  I wait.

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon eastern time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast available on demand on Empoweradio.com and also available on itunes.

The Return

Most people don't understand why I play hockey.  It is mostly a guys sport. When I tell people I play they just give me "that look"  you know the one, oh right YOU play hockey, you must get in a lot of fights on the ice.  I never have, actually I am rather mellow, besides, we all have to work the next morning so..

I got started playing hockey because of a vendor of mine in Los Angeles.  He gave me free tickets to see the Kings play at Staples Center.  I was immediately hooked.  I was looking to get in shape and I figured if I learned how to skate and bought all the equipment I would have no choice but to play.  Hockey is an expensive sport. 

I started playing co-ed hockey in Burbank, CA.  Burbank Bruins.  There were two other girls on the team.While we had fun, our team was in last place.  Did I mention the other two girls just started playing too?  I had so much fun.  I still have the puck from my first goal I scored.  Somehow I ended up on my ass perpendicular to the goal.  I looked over and it just barely crossed the line.  I was stoked.  We lost the game, but I still remember that moment.

Cancer took a lot from me.  Playing hockey today gave me some of that back.

I am tired, I am sore, my muscles ache.  But I haven't felt this good in a long time

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show Monday~Friday 10am-Noon eastern standard time.  Listen live on wmktthetalkstation.com.

Check out my podcast on Empoweradio.com available on demand now

Keeping your Mind and Body Healthy

Another guest blog.  Enjoy

Everyone knows the basics: Eat Right. Exercise often. Don’t walk through fields of radioactive dust, or dance in acid rain. The following 7 suggestions are great new ideas to keep your chin up, stay healthy and live life to the fullest.


1. Write. This isn’t writing an email to your boss. This is deep, soul searching and honest writing. When you face a stressful situation, particularly a difficult decision, write. Putting thoughts on paper helps you work it out, which reduces stress, thereby increasing your health.



2. Go to a comedy club, an improvisation group, or an Off-Broadway comedy. The laughter, with the socialization and environment will do your body and mind a world of good.



3. Go Shopping, but not for yourself. Instead, pick a friend. Think about them and where they are in life. Consider their needs and desires. Go out and buy them something amazing. Then give it to them anonymously. It will feel great, especially if you are asked to help figure out who it was.


4. Go Curling. Curling is a crazy sport, with strange and unusual rules. Not only is it entertaining, but it is also a great physical activity, and provides social interaction, too!


5. Restock your first aid kit. You never know when you’ll need another dozen alcohol pads and that giant knee bandage you used last summer. This allows you to take stock of where you are, and be more prepared in the future.


6. Dance. Whether it is a partner dance like ballroom or square dancing, or an individual dance like hip hop or belly dancing, these activities are physically amazing, and increase self esteem as well.



7. Make a list of 10 things you’ve always wanted to do. Set these as goals, and find ways to work toward them. Making and achieving goals is crucial to living happily.

 About the guest blogger:

We've got everything you need to know about arthritis. But if there is a question unanswered, send us an email and we will answer your question to the best of our knowledge, or at least will give you the resources to help you reach your goal. We are a group of caregivers whose family members are suffering from arthritis. This condition is a very common disease and has caused much distress to their victims. Nearly 1 in 5 adults have some form of arthritis. That's 46 million Americans affected. Americans age 65 and over are most likely at risk, but two-thirds of the cases are under 65. Women are more at risk than men. Please help us spread the word for prevention.

matthewr.chan@yahoo.com


Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show 10am-Noon Monday-Friday eastern standard time.  Listen live on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior available on demand now on Empoweradio.com

Goodbye Old Friend....

Peripheral neuropathy.

Defined by dictionary.com as Function: noun : a disease or degenerative state (as polyneuropathy) of the peripheral nerves in which motor, sensory, or vasomotornerve fibers may be affected and which is marked by muscle weakness and atrophy, pain, and numbness

You know what it feels like when your foot falls asleep?  Well imagine that intensified. Lucky me my friendship with neuropathy began after chemo ended.  I know I have written about it before, but really? After I am done with the toxic chemicals being injected into me I get a side effect.  Great. Thanks for that. A little bonus I wasn't expecting.

I started chemo on November 12th 2007 and finished up with (herceptin) treatment on December 29, 2008. I finished my chemo some time in April of 2008, I have the exact date in an old cell phone of mine,( have to get those milestone dates out of that phone before it gets tossed) My neuropathy started soon after that.

April 2008, and it just ended.  Or at least I hope.  I haven't had it in a couple of weeks.  So I guess it is gone.

December 2009~so that means my neuropathy, that tingling annoying pain sock, which was so painful at first that it was almost too much to bear, that tingling I got used to having, when I went to bed at night it would, if I was on my feet for a long period of time, would crawl up my leg up to my knee like spider creeping up its web, that after a while it was more of a nuisance that anything else, lasted longer than my treatment.  Longer than all of my treatments combined, including surgery, chemo, herceptin, and radiation. 

My treatment lasted 14 months.  My neuropathy lasted 20.

I almost don't want to post this blog, as if posting it will make it come back.

Ha ha but I am posting it anyway {gulp}

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show Monday~Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time.  Listen live on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com

Ponytail

Its not a picture of my ponytail, mine isn't as long....yet. 

Most cancer survivors remember dates very well, date of diagnosis, surgery dates, chemo dates, dates our lives changed forever and when we had to adjust to this new normal we call survivorship.  One date that is difficult for me to forget is Nov 28.  Not only is it my Mom's birthday, it is also the date I had my head shaved, because the Adryamicin/Cytoxan made my hair fall out. I still remember Sandy the nurse telling me I should get my head shaved because my hair would fall out in 2 weeks.  Haha I remember thinking I could beat the odds of 99.99% of the chance of losing my hair.  Good one.

Two weeks to the day of my first chemo, which was Nov 12, 2007 my hair started falling out.  Nothing like taking a nice hot shower in the winter and having your long dark lockes of hair come out in clumps in the shower.  A few days later I went in after hours to my salon La Dolce Vita in Petoskey and had my stylist Val shave my head.  Doug, my fiance and my neighbor Stacey came along with me for moral support.  I thought about having more people there, kind of a head shaving party, but it was hard enough to keep it together when my hair was falling out.  My only regret of that night is that I didn't take pictures of the whole process. I think it would have made the long winter months without my hair and the little peach fuzz on my head more bearable.

I am not a vain person, as I have written before.  I rarely, if ever wear makeup.  Unless its a special occasion you will normally find me in shirts of sports teams, cancer organizations, bands or the like.  Hair I think, as breasts do, define you as a woman in society.  Not having any was really difficult.  Glad I went through treatment during the winter time, so I didn't have to explain myself why I was bald.

Being bald, chemo and all that seems like so long ago, a mere two years. Just a drop in the bucket of time.  I have actually had several haircuts and gotten my hair colored.

Now my hair is just long enough to put in a ponytail.

Life is pretty sweet isn't it?

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show.  Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-Noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now

Save the Tatas

 

I don't recall how I found out about the save the tatas company.  I know they were on The Vic McCarty show when I was going through treatment, and I liked their message. Yes cancer is serious business, being diagnosed and going to doctor visits and chemo and radiation for months at a time can take a toll on anyone.

That is why I like the Save the Tatas mission and message:

Laughter heals.  Of course.  I have blogged about my positive mental attitude and wicked sense of humor.  If I didn't have that I probably wouldn't have gotten through treatment.  Recently we had founder of Save the Tatas Julia Field Fikse on the Vic McCarty show.  She was telling us a story about her wearing the shirt below:

She told us this funny story about walking in Pasadena, CA and a car screeched right by her, and a guy yelled out of his car, I totally was!!!!  What a great story.  What a great message. I love the fact that they bring humor to breast cancer awareness. I am for anything that brings humor and a positive message to an important cause.

Its always surprising, when you are going through treatment, what will bring a smile to your face.  Save the Tatas did that and continues to do that for me now that i am post treatment and into survivorship.

One of my favorite products from Save the Tatas is Boob Lube.  Now I know what you are thinking and you can get your mind right out of the gutter.  It's the original breast check soap. It is a fun reminder for you to do your monthly breast self exams.

There are lots of companies out there that promote breast cancer awareness, but I haven't seen one as fun as Save the Tatas.

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty show. Listen live Monday-Friday eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com.

Check out my podcast The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now

What are you thankful for?

Thanksgiving. A day off of work for most.  A day to spend with family, watch football and eat, eat eat.

Every family has their own tradition.  Doug and I go out to eat with his Dad and Uncle at the Perry Hotel, they put on a fantastic buffet and it is well known in the area for its food.

As I was eating the turkey and roast beef tonight I couldn't help but think what I am thankful for.  When I was diagnosed two years ago I had to give up alot in order to stay well.  I had to stop working at the serving job I had, not only could I not lift any trays because of the operation I had, the doctors told me I couldn't be there because of my low white blood cell count.  Being around a lot of people who potentially had colds wouldn't be good for my health, white blood cells fight infection, and mine being low I probably would have gotten really sick, like cancer wasn't enough of being sick right?  Luckily, as they say here in Northern Michigan a view of the Bay is half your pay, so like most people I had two jobs.  I was still able to work at the radio station.

There was a lot of food I couldn't eat.  I was advised not to eat fresh veggies during treatment, because they may not be washed properly.  You never really realize what you enjoy until you aren't able to have it.  I thought I really would kill someone for a big salad!!!  Some food I couldn't eat just because it was too hard on me, like anything acidic.  Tell that to someone whose mom makes awesome italian food!!! Tomatoes were off the list for a while.  Funny that I can still talk about food after stuffing my face today at the buffet.

I still worked but I was basically a hermit for a year.  For someone like me, not really a social butterfly, but I like being out with people, going out, hanging with friends.  It was work, doctor visits, home,sleep, eat, sleep, repeat.  Thank goodness that is over with.

I recently got the all clear from my oncologist.  Blood tests look good, mammography was normal.  See you in six months he said.  Got the same news from the radiologist, I don't need to see him until next year.  Hoping for a hat trick when I see my surgeon on Tuesday.

I am thankful for a lot of things, friends, family, all the people who have helped me through this, whether you realized it or not, thank you.

 

The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com

I have a tale to tell

Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well

Lyrics from a Madonna song "Live to Tell" one of my favorite songs of hers.  Very appropriate I think as a cancer survivor.  It took a long time for me to tell my story.  Vic and I talked about telling my story on The Vic McCarty show, and I wanted to but I was afraid to, it was hard to open up after every thing I have been going through.  I wasn't used to talk about myself to anyone, let alone talk about a disease that scares the hell out of everyone.  Now  its hard to get me not to talk about it.

I have often written about how lucky I am.  I believe everyone can be in the right place at the right time.  Somehow I was in the right place at the right time and I am doing a podcast on Empoweradio.com.  I have only done three so far and I have learned alot from the people I have interviewed.

Everyone's cancer experience is different, meds treat people differently, side effects, psychological and physical effects.   Not everyone is comfortable sharing their story.  That is fine, I can understand that, there are still some aspects of my cancer experience that is too personal to share.

That is the great thing about my new show. I can find people to tell their tale, share their experience and help other survivors and cancer fighters who are going through similar situations. I have learned about perserverance, strength and courage from all of the guests I have had on the show.

 Their stories have helped me and I hope that they will help you as well.

Every survivor has a story.

What's yours?

Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty show Monday-Friday 10am-Noon eastern on wmktthetalkstation.com

Check out The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand now.

Opportunity Knocks

Cancer Sucks

 Yeah we all can agree on that.  It takes a toll.  A physical and mental toll on you, your friends your family, pretty much everyone that is close to you.  People don't know how to react around you when you have it, the whispers, the stares.  The treatment kills everything, even the good cells,the equivalent of  medical napalm.  It makes you tired. Radiation makes you tired, hell everything makes you tired.  After your course of treatment you hope to hear one word: Remission.

Everything happens for a reason.  Or so I am told. That is a hard pill to swallow when your hair falls out and you feel like shit from a treatment that is supposed to make you better.

But you know what, I have to say I believe it.

Cancer has taken some things, but has given me more than I care to admit.  I eat healthier than I probably would have if I didn't have it, I work out more, well, I am a bit of a gym rat lately, just getting back in to hockey playing shape, I enjoy my friends my family and well, life in general.

I love my job as co-host/producer/partner in crime on The Vic McCarty show, a job I got because of cancer.

Because of cancer I was able to jump in on a startup of an internet radio station: Empoweradio.com.  I produce shows, and now I host my own show The Cancer Warrior.  I have been pretty lucky lately, good things have been happening.  Do I attribute it to cancer?  I guess I have to.  Opportunity knocked and I answered the door.  Would I have heard the knock if cancer hadn't of come into my life like a tasmanian devil, leaving a path of mental and physical destruction in its wake, forcing me to either cower in a corner, which, if you know me, just isn't my style, or get up and fight the devil,  winning the fight some days, some days losing, but eventually winning the battle.

I have to say that I have had a great attitude during all of this, I think if we all picture cancer looking like this:

it would be a hell of a lot less scarier.


Mel is the producer/co-host of The Vic McCarty Show. Listen live Monday-Friday 10am-noon eastern standard time on wmktthetalkstation.com 

Check out my new show The Cancer Warrior on Empoweradio.com available on demand 

A little color can change your perspective

I am not much into fashion.  If you know me you know that, usually you will see me in jeans and a t-shirt, probably of a sports team (Red Wings, LA Kings, Red Sox, Tigers, U of M football, you get the drift) I have been thinking about what to post, since my last blog was a repost from when I was deep in treatment, so I thought I would write something new.

The picture above is from when I got my hair colored at Trillium Salon.  I was going to another salon in town, (god, from me that sounds so pretentious doesn't it?) but I met the owner Ruthi at a local event in June.  Ruthi is a cancer survivor like me.  She survived breast cancer and created a program called Beautiful Survivor at her salon.  Patients and survivors of any kind of cancer can come to Trillium and get manicures, pedicures, a massage hair cut and color & wigs, all free of charge. 

Cancer and chemo changes everything about you.  The way you look, the way you feel, everything.  Its not something you can explain to anyone who hasn't gone through it.  To the outsider, to your friends, you look the same, act the same, but you are not. You want to get back to some kind of normalcy, if that is at all possible, try to get back to the normalcy you had before.  Like your hair for example, like I said before, I am not much into fashion, you wont see me try out the latest 'do from Hollywood,  but losing your hair and having it grow back grey reminded me of what I went through every day.  Believe me I am grateful for my health and the fact that my cancer was caught early, and I am not vain at all, but my hair growing back in was a reminder of cancer, chemo, feeling fatigued, feeling crappy and all the things associated with cancer and the napalm that was injected into my veins to save my life. Thank goodness for Ruthi.  Not only did I get an awesome massage, I got my hair colored, which honestly, I didn't think would make a difference.  I felt and  looked alot like my old self.   My friends could tell the difference, my co workers could tell the difference, and my fiance could tell the difference.

Who would have thought that a little color could change your perspective?  Not me.  I guess I was wrong. 

Definitions are all relative

This blog was originally written on 5/19/08.  Just my opinion, and at the time I was deep in treatment.

I participated in my first group therapy session today.

I am part of an online group meeting. We meet every Monday night. Much easier or so I thought than doing one live and in person.

Today I went to the infusion center and was in one that they have every Monday at 2pm. I have been invited to join every Monday since the group started. Normally I don't like talking about myself to perfect strangers (yeah I know I am on the radio so I do it almost every day, but this is different, because you actually see the peoples faces who you are talking to) but I decided that I would try it. Susan, the social worker who is in charge of the group would ask me to participate when I would come in for my chemotherapy treatments. Well since the medications make me fall asleep I thought I wouldn't be that interesting to listen to as I would probably fall asleep during the session. How rude!! Not my fault I blame the drugs. Anyway as we were waiting there was a lady there who was a 2 time survivor of breast cancer. She asked me if I was a cancer "victim." Ok that really got my ire up. First of all I am not the victim of anything. If you get diabetes are you a diabetes victim? Or get the flu are you a flu victim. No I think not. Freedictionary.com defines victim as "one who is harmed or made to suffer from an act, circumstance, agency or condition. " That could be defined as almost anything. Yep I drank way too much wine last night, therefore I am a hangover victim. I ate too many chips at the mexican restaurant therefore I am a nacho victim? NO!! I immediately corrected her and said I am a patient or survivor. Maybe she feels like a victim, but I do not. I don't really feel like a survivor either. Most people say you are a survivor as soon as you are diagnosed. I don't really know how I feel about that word either. Freedictionary.com defines survivor "to carry on, despite hardships or trauma, persevere, to cope with a trauma or setback, persevere after." Ok so I guess by definition I am, but I won't be done with my herceptin until December, so I still feel like a patient. I think I will feel more like a survivor when I get this damn port out. Ok so I digressed. Back to the whole group therapy thing, I guess it was a little cathartic. There were a couple of people there, one lady who had inoperable liver cancer and one who was a breast cancer survivor for 10 years. We all talked about our own experiences, drugs we take and our caregivers. It was a good experience. If I can make it for more I will, depending upon work schedules. Oh well my last thought is this. If you see someone,or talk to someone that has or had cancer, don't think of them as a victim, or even if you do, don't call them that, that lady didn't know me or my experiences, maybe in her mind she is a victim. but in my mind I am not.

We also got this cool book called crazy sexy cancer at the group meeting. I found a good quote in there and I will leave you with it.

"Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway." John Wayne said that.

Giddyap