Loosing My Survivor Touchstone . . .

It has taken me over a month to find the strength to write this post. But I felt it important to share this with all of you. If you are a cancer survivor then you are probably all too familiar with survivor's guilt. You are also familiar with touchstone's I would guess. Well, I recently lost one of my close survivor touchstones and at the same time feeling lots of survivor's guilt. Then there is also tons of fear in the mix.

When I was diagnosed 10 years ago at the tender age of 31 there wasn't anyone I knew who had been through it. Well, except one person. It was my cousin who had been through it 2 years earlier. She was also in her early 30's with 2 kids at the time. The day I got the news she was one of the first calls I made. It meant so much to talk to someone who was family, and close to my age who had survived a mastectomy and grueling chemo that I was facing. Neither one of us ever thought about breast cancer. You see we don't have a history in our family on either side (our mother's are sisters).

We each handled the emotions differently but had similar treatments. I in NY was treated at Sloan-Kettering, and she in Houston was treated at MD Anderson both top cancer hospitals. She took tamoxifen and I opted not too. I have not had genetic testing and her results were negative. We both changed our diets and questioned environmental causes. I felt a bond with her as family but also as a fellow survivor. I always looked up to her growing up, she was 4 years older than me, so beautiful and kind.

I got a phone call from my mom a week before July 4th letting me know she was in the hospital. And it was bad. I was shocked. You see, I had no idea that her cancer came back 5 years ago. Nobody told me because my cousin didn't want me to worry. Still looking out for me as she did for everyone in her life. She passed away on July 5th. As I write these words I still feel such disbelief. My cousin did everything her doctors told her, even took tamoxifen, went for all her followup tests, made it 8 years before it came back. Here I am alive, healthy, and a 10 year survivor. I cannot help but feel guilty about that and yet at the same time fear for my own life. This feeling surfaced its ugly face when my dad passed from cancer 3 years ago and my sister-in-law passed 6 years ago also from cancer but is much stronger now because it much stronger now.

Next week I go for my annual mammogram and I cannot put into words the fear I am feeling. I know that it is partly from my cousin's death. She was a survivor touchstone for me. I am beginning to think that there has to be some big book up there with all of our arrival and exit dates etched in it somehow. I have to believe there is something more or I don't think I can keep moving forward and let go of the fear . . .

New Beginnings . . .

I have talked many times on this blog about how much creativity helps me deal with my life after cancer and all the fear that comes along with that. Recently I have decided to take my creativity a step further. I have been enjoying learning about painting and mixed media for the past 6 months. I decided to start a new blog just to focus on sharing my creative journey. I will continue to post here at In My Life about cancer related issues and my after cancer life.

I wanted to let you all know about this new blog for those of you who may be interested in following my art! So if you are then come on over and check out Artsy Butterfly!

Hope to see you over there as well!

Cancer . . . Was It Just Part of The Plan?

"Please don't forget to wear your seat belt." I said to him for the millionth time.

"You worry too much Cat. It doesn't matter if I wear my seatbelt or not. If its my time to go I will go no matter what." he said

Paul and I had that conversation the morning he was killed. And wouldn't you know it. . . he got the last word. He was wearing his seat belt.

Some spiritualists believe that you make choices or rather your soul does before entering into this life. You chose your parents as well as the experiences you will have both good and bad in order for your soul to learn the lessons. Some even believe you choose your check out time.

I do believe in that and have always believed things happen for a reason. That there are no coincidences. Even the bad stuff I have gone through has served a purpose. When Paul died I felt as though it was his time, that he had served his purpose here on earth and it was time for his soul to move on. He even believed it too as you can tell from our seat belt talk.

Over the years as a cancer survivor I have spent way too much time trying to figure out how I am still here when so many around me have died from cancer including my own father. Was it what I ate, was it mental stress, or was it the chemicals in my skin care products. Then I think about the people that abuse their bodies and still live a long life. Now it seems as though I obsess over it in an effort to control my fear of recurrence. All of this obsessing is causing me to miss too much of my life, too many moments. It prevents me from living in the now.

Lately I have really been wondering about it all in an effort to just let go. I want to feel free, free of the fear. This is what lead me to wonder if cancer was just part of the plan?

I know it sounds crazy to some depending on your belief system. This is what I am sitting with lately. I would love to hear what you think. . .

Are you a spiritual person? Have you ever wondered why the bad things happen? Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Do you think that cancer could be a part of the plan? Is there a grand plan out there in the universe for each one of us?

These Dreams . . . Heartbreak That Never Goes Away

Those of you familiar with my story know that I was widowed when I was 25. It was the most horrific day of my entire life. I remember pulling up to my house that bright sunny afternoon when my gut sank to my feet as I looked at the police car waiting for me in front of my house. There was no question in my mind...he was dead. It was surreal. It was like everything I had seen in the movies. The police walk the wife into the house and carefully break the news as the she crumbles in tears on the floor. I would come to find it was a head on collision that killed him and his brother. Even as I type these words it still feels surreal all these years later. Not to get all new agey but I always worried about Paul especially when he was driving. I always wondered if it was a premonition type fear.

For years after the accident I worried about everyone I knew when they were out driving. I would call and panic if they weren't home. I began to fear everyone in my life would meet the same fate. And I would wait for the call from the hospital or to see a police cruiser pull up at my house. When I first met my husband Lou 8 years ago truth be told part of me did worry about him. How could I not? That fear had become etched in a deep part of my soul. But as the years had gone by I became less fearful of losing him. And thought I had beaten that fear up until the other day when he was late getting home. Lou will always call me to let me know that he will be late. I know the exact time to expect him home. I feel a sense of relief when I hear the diesel engine of his truck as it pulls into our driveway. So the other day when it was half past five and there was no call nor sign of him I felt a little pinch in my gut. It certainly wasn't full on panic but it had crept into my thoughts with things like "I couldn't survive this again." A few minutes later my phone rang and it was him. Calmness washed over me. He was ok.

I thought the fear was gone. That is until my dream that very same night. All I remember was being in our house wondering where Lou was because he was late getting home. I was pacing the floors in our bedroom. I heard the door open. I smiled and rushed out to see him. I could feel my heart sink when I saw two police officers sitting at my kitchen table. They were in full uniform including their hats. I locked eyes with them as they were staring at me quiet. The next thing I remember was screaming "NO" and I woke up screaming at that moment. I couldn't believe it. There was no mystery to the meaning of that dream. And even 15 years later the fear came busting out from my mind in a dream.

Have you ever experienced something that remained with you and still affected you years later? Do you experience your deepest fears in any dreams? What is the most significant dream you ever had?

Fear . . . How Do You Deal?

That is the title of my guest blog post live today over at Jean's Cream Community Blog. Fear is something I have dealt with most of my life and I am sure many of you can relate. In this post I offer some tips on how I deal with fear.

Jean's Cream was created by a two time breast cancer survivor who wanted to help others deal with the side effects of radiation from cancer treatment as well as other various skin conditions. Their community blog is full of tips and inspiration for those affected by cancer. I was pleased to be asked to contribute to their blog.

You can check out my post here. Would love to hear your thoughts and comments!

Rescheduling My Annual Mammo . . . Why Does It Feel Like I Committed Crime?

As 2009 drew to a close my boob started to hurt. It happens like clockwork each year as my annual mammo draws near. It was scheduled for March 2. That and a followup visit with my breast surgeon.

In an effort to put myself first and explore new creative interests I came upon a flyer for a painting class at my local arts council. I have always wanted to learn to paint. I am a creative person. Being creative helps ground me and deal with fear. At times fear seems to be my daily companion. The painting class certainly peaked my interest. And then I saw the date of the first class. It was of course the date of my annual mammo. Now when I make these followup appointments it is 6 months ahead of time as I leave another appointment. Who knows where you will be in 6 months. I was pretty bummed. Then I had a thought. . . Why don't I just reschedule? Seemed simple enough at the time. Until I called and found out that I would have to wait 6 months to get one. I have to say that I was shocked the wait was that long.

What did I do? Well, since it had been over 8 years of remission for me without missing one single followup test or appointment I decided to give myself a break so that I could take the art class. I figured that 6 months would not make or break me and the art would help heal me.

I have to say though that I felt as though I committed a crime. That I somehow broke the unspoken rules. I hate feeling this way. I can't live my life in between medical appointments as if that is the only way I will feel ok. It is a hard habit to break. It is the fear that hangs over my head all the time. . .

Have you ever rescheduled a followup test? Ever felt guilty or scared about it? How do you handle your post cancer checkups?

Is It Ever "Just" A Headache Anymore?

The night of my first chemo treatment was one of the worst of my life running a very close second to the night my husband was killed.  I remember being home alone laying on the couch when the worst headache of my life began.  The pain was so intense I was crying.  It was all centered right above my eyes taking over my whole forehead.  I had to turn the lights down and keep my eyes closed.  As the tears ran down my cheeks I was afraid I would die alone that nite on my couch.  I was banned from taking advil according to the oncology nurse so essentially I was screwed.  It was probably from dehydration combined with all the poison pumped into me that day.  

So last night when I had a really bad headache in the same place on my forehead it rushed me right back to that first chemo nite.  It always does.  Each headache I have had since (and there have been many)  unwillingly takes me back to that moment.  All of the fear and even some tears.  The flashback got worse when I took advil and it didn't work.  So there I was on the couch with the lights low holding back tears.  I have had headaches all of my life.  This is nothing new for me.  I have even had this discussion with my oncologist who says that if it is not any different then it is nothing to worry about.  And part of me knows that and agrees with him.  But it is in these moments when all the bad memories come rushing back amongst the pain that another part of me cannot distinguish between the two.  The fear gets as intense as the pain.

I wonder if there will be a day when a headache, a sneeze, or a stomach ache won't scare the hell out of me...

Does this ever happen to you?  Do symptoms you had before cancer scare you now?  How do you deal with the fear?  How do you put it all back in perspective?

Painting And Creating. . .

I cannot believe I am sharing this but here it is.  This is my second attempt at a new creative outlet.  The first one was not suitable to share.  I actually hate what I did.  But if I really take a look I would realize it speaks about the state of my mind lately.  It is very busy and cluttered.  But rather than give up I decided to give it another try.  I was thinking cherry blossom as I was painting this one.    I had never even held a brush before.    So I bought a book about painting with acrylic.  I read it from cover to cover and then headed to the craft store to pick up some supplies.  It is no secret that I love photography.  To me that is art.  I create with my camera what I capture through the lens.  I have always wanted to paint.  I was intimidated with the thought of trying to create something from imagination.  Something without that lens.  I was only to rely on my mind.  

I remember when I was in the fourth grade I won an art contest.  It was a blue first place ribbon.  I used pastels to make a butterfly.  I was so proud of what I had done.  I never expected to win.  It certainly wasn't the best of the class.    It is a memory that has stayed clear in my mind for all these years.  I no longer have that ribbon nor do I have the drawing.   I only have the memory of it in my head.  Then life got in the way and as I grew older I never felt good enough or confident enough to pursue any of my artistic interests.  Not even writing.

Although I was less than pleased with my first painting I have to say I enjoyed the process.  I was excited to be brushing color onto the canvas.  To be creating in a different medium.  To be trying something new.  I was lost in the moment of what I was doing as much as I do when I am behind my camera lens.  The noise in my head began to quiet down and I lost all track of time.  That is why creating is so important for me.  It always helps me deal with fear and anxiety.  It brings me into a moment, into the present.  

I wish I knew how to do just that on my own.  Until then I am glad I have found new ways to step outside of myself.  I will try not to be discouraged with the product and enjoy the process. . .

Do you paint?  What made you pick up that brush?  What ways does creativity help you?  Any advice for this newbie painter?

I'm Sitting And I Can't Get Up. . .

That was what I spent most of this morning screaming to myself inside my head when I jumped off of the couch and felt a stabbing pain shoot down my right leg. As my right leg longed to buckle under me I thought to myself "Dear God just don't let me hit the floor!" And luckily I didn't. I grabbed the wall edge as my dog ran over and stared at me with a furrowed look on his face. He certainly was not going to be of any help to me. I was all alone. Somehow though I was able to hobble over to my couch to sit. Then the fear washed over me and tears ran streaming from my eyes. I felt frightened and sad.

I suddenly flashed back to when I was sick. To when I had cancer. I thought about how bad I felt in the hospital after cancer surgery being unable to walk on my own. I thought about having to sit on a shower chair and needing help to wash myself. And then I thought about being stuck on the couch after my first chemo treatment with a headache so bad I hoped I wouldn't die that night. I was all alone. The lonliness became palpable once again. And although I was thankful that this was nowhere near as bad it was enough to bring those sucky memories rushing back.

So I cried. And then cried some more. So much that I thought I would never stop. As I sat there on the couch I noticed the pain in my back was gone but I must have been crying over the pain in my heart. Crying over the fear. And it just snowballed from there.

As I sit here and write this I am feeling better. Partly thanks to Advil. And I am sure my crying fit did nothing to help the stress in my back muscles. I hate feeling this way. I haven't yet figured out how to handle the associated reactions better...

Have you ever experienced a flashback similar to this? How did you react? How did you handle the emotion?

My Juicer Is Dusty. . .

I remember when my mom used to try to get me to eat veggies.  I hated them.  Hated anything green.  I wouldn't even eat salad.  I was the one out to dinner declining the salad that came with my entree.  I never drank water.  Only high sugar fruit drinks, soda and then during my teen and young adult years it was diet soda or as I refer to it now...brown water with chemicals.  My diet consisted of processed foods, no veggies, and mostly crap.  Much of nothin!  It is no wonder that I was always feeling sick, always coming down with something.  I worked in a hospital and was exposed to germs on a daily basis.  I started missing the fact that I couldn't fight anything off for very long.  

Then came a cancer diagnosis.  Then my world turned upside down.  Since going through cancer treatment I have changed my diet in many ways.  After treatment was over I was figuring out how to get back to life after cancer.  Changing my nutrition was one of the lifestyle changes I made during that time.  It also became my way of trying to control the fear.  Fear of recurrence became a daily experience.  It was worse in the beginning but I still live with it today, 8 years later.  

With the help of a holistic doc I was encouraged to try juicing.  I began drinking mostly water, started eating veggies and consuming less processed foods.  I was trying to avoid ingesting chemicals.  Of course I was no angel.  I was doing everything in moderation trying not to obsess.  Once I started juicing 6 years ago I started to enjoy it.  I began with apples and carrots because they fed my sweet tooth.  Then I slowly introduced the greens.  Cucumbers and celery were about as far as I went until I tried kale.  

What I didn't realize though was my obsession.  I used the juicer every single day and if I missed a day I would get really crabby.  And then I would worry.  It got to the point that I felt as if the juicing was keeping me alive somehow.  Like if I stopped my cancer would instantly come back.  I never realized how deep the fear went.

4 months ago I stopped juicing.  I don't even know why. I think I just wanted a break from the hour I was spending tied to my sink cleaning veggies and then cleaning the juicer.   And I was scared at first.  Every day I said to my husband "I didn't make my juice today"  as if I would instantly combust right in front of him.  

So now my juicer is dusty.  I haven't gone back to using it yet.  This is the longest I have left it sitting there.  Sometimes I feel  like the worrying and obsessing over using it is worse for my health than the not using it.  Does that make sense?  Sometimes I feel scared, sometimes I feel guilty.  Then I wish for a time when I didn't even know the "c" word.

I still believe that changing my diet has helped to keep me healthy.  I wish I didn't feel as though it is the only thing.  I think I need to spend more time figuring out ways to keep my mind healthier for the sake of my body.

Have you made any changes to your lifestyle in response to an illness?  Ever tried juicing?  Do you obsess over things in an attempt to gain control?? 

My Boobs Hurt Just Thinkin 'Bout It!

The pain usually starts about a month ahead of the scheduled checkup with my breast surgeon.  After all these years one might think it would be easy.  Sometimes I think it should be.  I wish that it could be.  But its sooo not. I see her twice a year which pretty much entails a boob exam and discussion of how I am doing all in the span of 7 - 10 minutes.  This time I don't even have any testing to do.  My mammo is not until the winter.  This should be a cakewalk appointment for me.  Maybe that is too much to expect from myself.  Maybe its too much pressure.  

The anticipation has always been my problem.  The obsessing I do and the negative places my mind likes to frequent especially at these times are not good for me.  I try to work hard at staying positive but old habits die hard I guess.  All those associated reactions just overwhelm me sometimes and take over.  I am hoping that as in my last post about recent city trips the good thoughts will carryover when I head to Sloan Kettering on Tuesday.  

Do you ever obsess over your doc appointments way ahead of time?  How do you handle the fear and anxiety?  Have you ever skipped one out of sheer fear? (Something I have highly considered on many an occasion!)

Control

I long for the days when the word control for me was just the title to one of my favorite Janet songs circa 1986.  Back then I was a junior in high school and one of the few  problems I had at the time was finding a date for the prom which by the way was  unsuccessful.  I hadn't yet come in contact with one single person who had cancer.  I rarely ever thought of the word.  

Then bad things started happening.  My parents divorce when I was 18, my husbands death when I was 25, and thinking it couldn't get any worse, a diagnosis of cancer at only 31 years old.  I am not a controlling person perse when it comes to the people in my life.  The control freak in me comes out about things like my diet,  my daily routine, exercise or lack thereof, and obsessing over my health.  All of which stems from fear.   Fear of losing people close to me, fear of failure, fear of cancer recurrence and the list goes on.

The hardest part to control though is my mind and all the crazy thoughts running through it on a daily basis.  It is much easier for me to control what I eat and how much exercise I get in order for me to try and maintain my health.  If I miss a day with my juicer I get cranky and start obsessing not realizing that the obsessing is just as bad if not worse for me that just missing a juicing day.  I hate that it is hard for me to control bad thoughts.  

I know that immersing myself in what I love to do helps.  But getting those things started seem so overwhelming sometimes and I can't help but wonder why.  I wish it wasn't so hard for me.  Each day I try a little harder, each day I try to find myself amidst the mess in my head.  

How about you?  Would love to hear from those who can relate!