Ages ago my cousin Jamie told me I had to read the book The Hunger Games.  After hearing the premise of the story I thought, “Oh – how barbaric and depressing!  There’s no way I’m reading that.”  Flash-forward to a few weeks ago when my favorite neighbor and good friend Sam tossed the book my way and encouraged me to read it.  It sat on my shelf for a while.  But then I finally picked it up.  And let me tell ya, I could not put that book down.  While it was just as disturbing as I thought it would be, I still got hooked and devoured the whole thing in a few days.

Then I started thinking about the parallels between my life and the kids in the hunger games.  How I’ve been thrown into the arena with cancer and am now in a constant battle for my life.  I too must stay strong and healthy…  Mentally and spiritually fit…  Train hard to stay one step ahead…  Gather as much information as possible…  Develop strategies to outsmart my enemy.  Cancer is devious and cunning and stands poised to attack at any time.  I need to constantly be on alert.  Ready.  If I give cancer any opportunity to take over my body and my life it will.

One thing I know for sure, is that my strategy does not involve sitting back and waiting to see what the cancer will do.  When your life is on the line you must be proactive.  So I am doing everything I possibly can to beat this beast down and keep it down.  From going vegan, to cutting out sugar, to exercising every day, switching my under-wire bras to soft cup ones, taking vitamins & supplements, trying alternative treatments, ditching my antiperspirant…  I don’t care if it’s been proven or not – if there is a chance it can help me, I am willing to consider it.  Why the fuck not?

And what I don’t understand is why some folks with life threatening illnesses do not make these changes.  Why not do whatever it takes to keep living?  Why not question your doctors?  Why not research all possible solutions?  Why not get a second, third, and even fourth opinion?  Why not change your diet?  Why not consider doing things a little differently?

I want to live.  Oddly enough, I’ve noticed that I’m feeling happier than I have in years now despite having stage 4 cancer.

I have a new-found hunger for life.  And i am willing to do whatever it takes to stay in the game.

Peace.  – T

One of my core strategies is juicing. Miss M LOVES to help her mamma make juice (but she never wants to drink it!)

Another key strategy… Spend lots of time with those you love and try to get out in nature as often as possible!

Great news arrived today!!!  The results are in from my genetic screening and I DO NOT have the BRAC1 or BRAC2 gene mutation!  WooHoo!!  One less thing for me to worry about.  And it’s great news for both me and Miss M.

It decreases the risk that Miss M will develop breast, ovarian and other types of cancer.  Apparently a woman who inherits the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes is about five times more likely to develop breast cancer than a woman who does not have such a mutation.  Many women who test positive for the gene even chose to get their breasts removed when they do not have breast cancer as a preventative and cautionary measure.  I’m so glad Miss M won’t have to face those same decisions.

But regardless, Miss M still has to face the possibility that she may develop cancer.  Everyone has to face that possibility.

And I stand by my beliefs that cancer risk is not just about genes.  It’s about harmful chemicals that we ingest on an every day basis…  It’s about the unhealthy, overly processed, and nutrient void diets that most people consume…  It’s about the toxic levels of stress in our society…  It’s about unforeseen tragedies that inhibit our ability to stay healthy…   No one is immune.

I can only do my best to reduce the odds for Miss M.  I can make sure she eats a healthy diet (to this day she has never eaten a meal at a fast food restaurant!  I’m holding out as long as I possibly can).  I can encourage her to be active.  I can help her develop healthy coping skills to combat stress.  I can inform her about her risks.  As she gets older she will make her own decisions.  But for now, I can help lay the foundation of a healthy life for her.

I still think about how all of this will impact her in the years to come.  What is it like to grow up knowing your parent is sick and may die at any time???  That’s some pretty heavy shit.

Even now at age 2 (almost 3) she says and does things that are not the “norm” for kids her age…  She asks to help sort my vitamins & supplements each week into my days-of-the-week pill box.  She assumes every appointment I go to is to visit a doctor (which I guess isn’t too far from the truth).  She always has to be conscious of my “boo-boos” -  No band-aids on my fingernails because it might pull the nail off, no grabbing my neck because she might mess up the line from my port, or resting her head on certain parts of my chest because it hurts…

The other day she told me her Minnie Mouse doll was exercising.  When I asked if Minnie got all sweaty like I do, she replied, “No, Minnie doesn’t have hot flashes!”  I burst out laughing.

I guess this is just how life is for a kid whose parent has cancer (or any other disease for that matter).  And for the most part she and I continue to live our lives and have fun together despite the fact that the cancer is always there.

I never thought I wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom, but now I cannot imagine going back to work before she starts school and missing out on all these precious moments with her.  I often think about how I had just accepted a job offer in November – the week before I was diagnosed…  My fingerprints were scheduled mere hours after my mammogram (that I was CONVINCED was going to be fine).  And then the doctors told me it might not be the best idea to start a brand new full-time job right about now.  So I didn’t.

So in essence, cancer (both my mom’s and my own) has enabled me to stay at home with Miss M and given me the gift of being intimately involved in the early years of her life.  How amazing.  It’s funny how I see all these gifts around me now that I didn’t see before.

Take a look around and find the gifts.  They may be hard to find, but they are there.

Peace.  -T

So a few weeks ago I stopped seeing therapist # 2.  Damn, it’s hard to find the right therapist.

But I still need to find someone.  I need to understand what’s going on in my head.  I need to look at the patterns & defenses that may have contributed to the development of my cancer.  I need to process the grief of losing my mom.

Seriously, if anyone knows of an outstanding psychotherapist in the Dayton area please send the info my way.

Even though I’m not in therapy right now I continue to find other ways to “do therapy” on my own…  Most of this comes in the form of various shows on Oprah’s new OWN network (her Super Soul Sunday series in particular) as well as lots and lots of books.  And of course this blog.  Thanks everyone!

The most recent book I am reading is The Type C Connection: The Behavioral Links to Cancer and Your Health by clinical psychologist Lydia Temoshok, PH.D. & Henry Dreher.  The general gist is that certain personality types or more likely to develop cancer than others.  The cancer prone “type C” personality is a self-sacrificing perfectionist who takes care of everyone else, is dependable, calm, usually unassertive, and unable (or unwilling) to express all their needs and emotions.

I’ve mentioned this whole concept in my blog before…  How I see myself as a type C personality (striving to be a balanced type B person).  And I can see how stuffing down your feelings and putting yourself last is bound to take a toll on your body and soul.  And then the emotional crap ends up manifesting as disease of some kind or another.  Mine (as with many type C personalities) happens to be cancer.

Let me be clear that in no way is this a “blame the patient” sort of thing.  We are who we are for a number of reasons – genetics, parents, environment, pivotal life events…  They all shape the people we become.  My own unique mix of events has led me to develop some of the characteristics of the Type C personality.  It is what it is.

The last few days, as I watch Oprah & read my book, I’m realizing how important it is to recognize all the different parts of myself.  Even the parts I don’t like – or don’t want to look at.  The parts that aren’t so pretty.  When we try to ignore the pieces of ourselves that we don’t like (or think others won’t like) we just gloss over the truth and present a false self to the world.

I am starting to see that I can’t be my healthiest, most fabulous self until I embrace my whole being.  Warts and all!

This is also coming up because tomorrow I’m off to Columbus to do a radio interview about living with fear for CBC (The Canadian Broadcasting Company) – Check it out on twitter and facebook.  So of course I’m thinking about my fears.  And recognizing how important it is to feel my feelings, no matter how yucky they are, instead of dismissing them like I usually do.

So what do I feel?  I am scared of getting really sick.  I am afraid of dying.  I have resentments.  I can be jealous.  Sometimes I just want to be totally lazy.  I get angry about stuff.

Can someone get me a good therapist please???

Peace.  – terri

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…  I am amazed at the love and generosity that continues to pour my way.  And I am SO full of gratitude.

Two weeks from now there will be another benefit for me.  This time on Bowen Island.  Check out the poster (the one that says “ass”- don’t you love it??) and the facebook page.  It will be at the Royal Canadian Legion on Saturday May 26th at 7pm.

It’s a chance for folks to get together, have fun, listen to great music, have a drink or two (or three!), show their support for me and my dad, and hopefully dance (cuz that’s how my mom would have wanted it).  It looks like it will be a truly awesome event.  I have to give a big shout-out to Caroline Goodson-Parker who is spearheading the whole thing.  She was the first mommy friend I made on Bowen.  And she is a tour-de-force!

Bowen Island is a special place.  Rumour has it that the Island has healing properties.  I believe it.  When hubby and I moved there at the end of 2009 we had no idea what to expect.  We weren’t sure if we were coming on a temporary excursion or sticking around for the long haul.  But coming from New York City we knew it was gonna be a shock to our systems.

What we found there was a genuine community.  A bunch of really friendly people who look out for one another.  A sense of pride.  Untouched rainforest and beaches everywhere.  Hubby and I even had a ocean view from our deck.  It was glorious!  My parents knew that Bowen was special.  That’s why they moved there.  And I couldn’t think of a better place for them to have settled down.

When my mom was diagnosed with biliary cancer in 2009 the entire island came out to support us.  An amazing benefit was orchestrated.  Special healthy cancer fighting meals were prepared and delivered – constantly.  Helpful books were dropped off.  Support was offered in every which way imaginable.  And now to see the island coming out yet again to rally behind my family is unbelievable.  The love and support just never ends.

So THANK YOU Bowen Island!!  Thank you to Caroline, Kathrine, Sam, and my dad (and everyone else involved) for putting this fabulous evening together…  Thank you David Crosby and Graham Nash for your incredible donations…  Thank you to everyone who donated items for the silent auction…  Thank you Auntie Nicole for spreading the word on the mainland…  Thank you to all the musicians and bands who agreed to perform…  Thank you to the good ol’ Royal Canadian Legion for hosting us…  Thank you to everyone who bought tickets…

Sometimes I feel like a broken record of thanks.  But I want everyone to know how much I appreciate what you do for me.  How all of your encouraging words, helpful tips, financial help, care and concern really helps to keep me afloat.  It helps me believe in the inherent goodness of the world.  To remember that genuine communities (like Bowen and my new hometown in Ohio) still do exist.  Fills me with hope and gives me the strength I need to fight for my life.  Together we can do it!

Peace.  – T

The View From Our Deck on Bowen Island

Miss M Admires The Local Talent In Nashville

Riverboat Ridin’ at Opryland Resort

Back home today from trip # 2 on our Summer Tour of Gratitude and Giving Thanks.  We had an absolute blast in Nashville.

In the 4 short days I was there we squeezed in a bunch of Nashville attractions.  We went to the Adventure Science Center, Centennial Park, and the fabulous Opryland Hotel & Resort (which, If you haven’t been to already – you must go.  It is simply gorgeous…  an indoor oasis with rambling walkways, lush green vegetation, a river, boat rides, fountain shows, waterfalls, restaurants…  and of course the hotel.  Magical!)

And yes, we made it to church on Sunday – as requested.  And that too, was magical.  Within the first 5 minutes the tears were flowing…   With the soulful gospel music and all the love in the room I just couldn’t stop myself.  And then I thought, “Why even try to stop myself?  Just let it out!”  So I did.  I cried, I sang, I smiled at my neighbours, thought about my mom, and danced around with Miss M. in my arms.

The sermon itself was just what I needed.  A lesson in perseverance, never giving up hope, finding the answers within yourself, and recognizing your own power.  I am realizing that the passages in the Bible are just like Zen koans.  Big lessons stuffed in metaphorical and ambiguous little packages for us to figure out and incorporate.

Then the day after church, I learned about the death of Amy Rauch Neilson – a fellow blogger, terrific writer, mom, wife, and stage 4 breast cancer warrior.  She passed away on May 6, 2012 at the age of 43.  Way too young.

I thought of the sermon at church.  I questioned why another fabulous woman was taken away.  I wondered why some die and some live.  How does this get decided?  Do we have any control?  And again, I am forced to face the severity of my situation.  The average lifespan for people with my diagnosis isn’t all that long.  The percentage of folks who manage to stay alive for the long haul are few and far between.  I’m going to lose a lot of warriors in this journey.  This sucks.

It’s such a weird place to be – stuck in between two worlds.  Watching fellow soldiers go down while still clinging to the belief that I will be the miracle.  But why me?

Cancer is truly forcing me to live with a “beginner’s mind” as Suzuki Roshi would say.  No assumptions.  No judgements.  Just pure wonder and lots of questions.  No attachments to life being a certain way.  Just the here & now.  The present moment.  A challenge to live by my ideals and practice what I preach.

Cancer is a teacher.  Some twisted Zen koan that I have to figure out.   All I know is that in this moment I feel good.  Today was a good day.  And I am praying for many more.

Peace. – T

I am counting down the hours till Miss M and I hit the road for Nashville!  This will be trip # 2 in our North American summer tour.  Looking forward to 5 quality days with my outspoken cousin, her sweet-as-honey husband, their 5 boys, and my talented aunt.  Craving some Southern hospitality and flavour.

I’m also excited about going to church Nashville style.  Last time we were in town we went to a service and I truly had a magical experience.  Tears flowed.  Bodies were swaying.  Marisa was dancing.  Smiles all around.  It was so moving.  So this was my one request for this trip – Can we go to church again??  And so we are.

I’ve been thinking a lot about spirituality, faith, and religion lately.  The breast cancer is demanding that of me.  But even before that, hubby and I were feeling the pull to get more in touch with our spiritual sides.  We started watching Joel Osteen on TV and talking about finding a church community we could become a part of (especially since we were moving to oh-so-religious Ohio).

To be clear – neither hubby nor I have ever really attended church as adults.  Hubby grew up quasi Catholic – showing up at church for a holiday here and there.  And I was raised by two hippie artist parents who let me decide what religion I wanted to be.  So hubby and I actually going to church on a regular basis would be a pretty big deal.

But my mom did expose me to her love of Buddhism from an early age and instilled in me much of the wisdom without me even realizing it.  I always tell the story of how she would bring me to the beach as a child and then suggest we just sit in silence, appreciate the view, and not talk to each other for 20 mins.  I realize now that she was sowing the seeds for my meditation practice.  She gave me my first zafu (meditation cushion) when I went off to college at age 17.  I was SO not ready to use it – But I kept it with me – move after move after move.  And at age 28 I was finally ready to embrace my Buddhist self.  Hubby and I had a Buddhist wedding ceremony in San Francisco where we took the precepts and I’ve been trying to stick to a (relatively) steady meditation practice ever since.

Today I am so thankful to my mom for giving me this gift.  I credit meditation with a lot of my ability to stay calm, centered, and healthy.  Especially with everything that’s happened over the last few years and this crazy breast cancer diagnosis.

At tonight’s support group for young women with breast cancer, one of the other ladies commented to me that I seemed so positive.  I think some people are surprised at the idea of being positive or happy when you’ve been handed a diagnosis of late stage cancer.  But I think when you’re grounded in a strong foundation of spirituality, community, and faith that anything is possible.

It doesn’t matter what religion you are.  If you believe there is something bigger than yourself then you have an amazing resource to tap into.  Whether you do it through prayer, song, being in nature, meditation…  It don’t matter.  From the day I was diagnosed, I have appealed to the Universe and my mom’s spirit to help me through this.  And so far they have.

Amen!

A comment posted on my blog today struck a chord with me.  Someone expressing frustration and hurt over the fact that I do not take a more personalized approach to my blog and make more of an effort to connect and acknowledge all my supporters.

But how the heck do you do that??

From the get-go I have struggled with how to express my gratitude to the family, friends, and strangers that are supporting me in this journey.  I’ve even blogged about this before.  Spoken to my aunt about it.  Sent thank you cards.  Wrote emails.  But I am realizing it is virtually impossible to personally connect with each and every person.

The reality is that every day is a juggling act…  From the time Miss M wakes me in the morning to the time I tuck her into bed at night, my day is full.  When I’m not being an actively engaged mom to a needy toddler (which takes up most of my time), I’m getting the laundry done, or making dinner, or running a household…  And when I’m not doing all that I’m going in for chemo or Herceptin or getting scans, blood work, or genetic testing…  Then of course I have to squeeze in the daily exercise, juicing, meditation, and healthy eating (which means non-stop cooking because eating healthy doesn’t come in a box that I can just throw in the microwave or oven)…  And still find time for my hubby, friends, family and – oh yeah, this blog!

I wish I had the time to personally reach out to every single person that has sent a card, wrote a beautiful sentiment on my blog, emailed encouraging words, or donated something to help me in my fight against cancer.  I truly do.  I read everyone’s comments on my blog with excitement and interest.  I LOVE hearing your thoughts, inspiring stories, suggestions, and well wishes.  The Graceful Woman Warrior committee in Massachusetts continues to forward me the cards that come in full of love and prayers and positivity – And I keep a rotation of them tacked up to the wall or on the fridge for a boost when I need one.  There are also a handful of folks that have consistently gone out of their way to offer BIG support in ways I never even imagined.

I never saw this coming.  Any of it.  I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the enormity of facing stage 4 metastatic cancer at age 37 with a 2 year old daughter and my whole life ahead of me.  Still trying to process the amazing and never ending flow of support and love that just keeps streaming in.  Still trying to understand what this means.  How being in treatment for the rest of my life changes things.

So just know that amidst the craziness of my life I still love and look forward to forging connections with as many of you as possible.  Because those of you who truly know me, know that forging connections is one of my favorite things to do.  I’m a social worker, remember??  It’s all about the relationships.

But if the thank you card doesn’t arrive in a timely fashion, don’t take it personally.  I still love you.

Peace.  – T

AFP / Getty Images
Afghan photographer Massoud Hossaini wins 2012 Pulitzer Prize for breaking news photography for this shot of of a girl reacting to a suicide bombing.

Waiting patiently for my fingernails to fall off... Thanks chemo!

I came across this photo while in Toronto and it has stayed stuck in my head ever since.  As I fret about my fingernails that are about to fall off and the inconvenience of not being able to button Miss M’s sweater or open a pull tab can…  People all over the world are dealing with wars, dictatorships, horrific situations…  Seeing a picture like this reminded me that life could be so much worse.  It’s all relative.

Of course whenever I’m feeling upset and hubby pulls this tactic on me – agreeing that things may seem bad – but remember, it can always be worse – I don’t usually wanna hear it.  I just want to complain for a while.  Even though I know he’s right.  But these days I am consciously making an effort to be more centered, have more gratitude, and count my blessings.  Whether or not I’d be this way if my most recent scans didn’t turn out as well as they did – who knows?!!!?

Yes, cancer is forcing me to deal with some pretty heavy shit;  my own mortality, grim statistics, lifelong medical treatment, scans, drugs, procedures…  But in the here & now I have so much.  Freedom.  Love.  Support from all over the world.  The most amazing family and friends.  No worries about a bomb blasting beside me on my way to the market.  No one abusing me.  No one telling me how to live my life.

All of these thoughts were compounded after watching the movie Gone Baby Gone last night.  I was riveted.  Beyond my crush on Casey Affleck and the fact that the movie was filmed in Boston where my mom was born, I kept thinking about the millions and millions of kids out there with parents who don’t give two shits about them.  And then how much I absolutely adore Miss M.  And would do pretty much anything for her.  But of course as Maya Angelou says, “When you know better, you do better.”

But this doesn’t mean I can’t bitch about my nails, or my patchy baldness, or my low libido, or or my hot flashes, or the fact that cancer is taking me down a very difficult road…  I’ll bitch all I want.  As long as I don’t get stuck in it and let bitchiness and complaining run my life.

As long as I remember that it’s all relative.

Peace.  -T

It’s been an action packed, fun filled, euphoric couple of weeks.  Now the dust is settling.  The guests are on their way home.  And the house is quiet.  Really quiet.  And I finally have a few moments to really think about the results of my scans and process the good news.

While I know how amazing the news is…  I still want to understand what this really means.  Is my cancer in remission?  Does surgery now make sense?  Is this just a small success amongst a long path of turmoil?  Or is this a miraculous – cancer is now almost gone – cure sort of thing?  Are the results a big deal – or a REALLY big deal??

My relief is also interwoven with a lot of disbelief.  Can all the cancer that spread throughout my body, lymph nodes, and bones really be gone??  After just 3 months of chemo and a radical change in lifestyle and attitude??  How long does this last?  How long can I keep the cancer at bay?  What exactly does this all mean?

When I try to find information online about others like me, I don’t come up with much.  Instead, I keep finding page upon page talking about the grim prognosis for stage 4 BC patients.  Average survival rate of 18-24 months…  Treatment with no intention of curing the disease…  Focus on pain management…

Please!  Do not remind me!

It’s so depressing reading all that crap.  I know the odds are not in my favor.  I don’t need to be constantly reminded of the fact.  I don’t need to bury myself in grim statistics.  Why do I even read it??

I know that no one can predict what path my disease will take.  Just like all of our paths – The future is unknown.  All I can do is recognize that right now I feel good.  Right now my scans are clear.  Right now I don’t have to do chemo.  All I have is right now.

As my Zen calendar said today, “There is no enlightenment outside of daily life.”  This is it.

Instead of revolving my existence around cancer and trying to predict the future, I must instead enjoy the moments.  Have gratitude.   Take things one day at a time.

And while I LOVE having a continuous rotation of loved ones stay in our home and help me with this journey, I also appreciate the quiet moments.  Days of silent reflection – like today.  Time to meditate on life and gather my thoughts.

I encourage everyone to find moments of silence.  Enjoy the quiet.  Reconnect with yourself, with nature.  Get in touch with something beyond yourself.  Be still.

It ain’t always easy.  But it’s so necessary.

Peace.  – T

We have returned from our fabulous week in Toronto.  And it’s good to be home.

Miss M and I loved spending time with friends, toodling around town, and being back in a big city again.  Miss M kept saying, “Look at the traffic!  Look at all the people!”  She was in her element.  And I found it so relaxing – the city energy, diversity, anything goes attitudes, freedom, accessibility…  I am definitely a city girl.

Plus, it is such a joy to be feeling like my old self again.  I am detoxing from the chemo and my body is changing.  I’m regaining energy.  There’s no more nausea.  No more leg pains or head pains.  I’m feeling healthy.  It’s so amazing.  It makes the remaining meds, falling off fingernails, and bald patches on my head so much easier to deal with.

I find that since the diagnosis I ask the “big questions” of myself a lot more often.  When you take an honest look at your own mortality it brings a new awareness to your life.  I saw on Oprah’s OWN network that actor Rainn Wilson has even started a new media company SoulPancake with this objective in mind.  Ask the big questions.  Get talking.

My life is truly a gift (as are all our lives) and I feel this new drive to figure out who I want to be and what I want from life.  To make my remaining years the best possible.

Our last night in Toronto we went out for Chinese food (at my request for good authentic Asian food – something that’s hard to come by in my new home of Ohio)…  At the end of the meal we got our fortune cookies.  I couldn’t believe what mine said:

“You will become an accomplished writer.”

It’s funny because as I got older I swore I would NEVER be a writer (or any kind of artist for that matter).  I wanted a “real” job with a steady paycheck.  Coming from a family of artists I knew firsthand the struggle of trying to be an artist for a living.  And there was no way I was going that route.

But as a child writing was always something I loved to do.  I was constantly writing novels in my little Campfire notebooks.  Putting pencil to paper and writing sagas of teenage angst, crushes, and family drama…  I would spend hours outside on the front porch writing.  Or an entire afternoon devouring a book from cover to cover.  The truth is that writing and reading have always been an integral part of who I am.

The fortune cookie got me thinking about my passion for the written word.  And reminded me that in order to find your passion it is important to look at what you loved to do as a child.  When we were young, free, and unencumbered by adult responsibilities.  Maybe it’s time we revisit those loves.  Rekindle the joy.  Discover the passion.  Bring it back into our lives.

What did you love to do as a child?

Be sure to keep asking the big questions.  Peace.  – T