Minor ailments

I'm just over a bad cold and now I'm nursing a bad back. Here I am helping out at a dinner party at a friend's. One of the other guests is going through chemo so I wore a mask & gloves to avoid passing on my cold. It turned out that she got one anyway, I just hope it wasn't from me...















I decided to have a massage yesterday morning because my lower back and hips have been sore on and off for awhile. It turned out to not be such a good idea because I ended up in a lot of pain by the end of the day. So I've spent this lovely sunny spring day lying flat on my livingroom floor. I'm trying not to whine because these things are a day at the beach compared to chemo!

Yoga cancelled this week

For those of you who attend the Breast Cancer Action yoga class on Thursday, Patricia asked me to pass the word that there is no class this week.

I will be practicing the pose in the photo on my own at home.
:-)

One Week

In 1998, when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I headed off to Nova Scotia to be near the ocean. In 2007, just after having surgery to remove a tumor from my lung, I went to Africa for a month. Last fall, I delayed starting chemotherapy for a few weeks so I could once again go ‘home’ to Halifax and the ocean.

So when I saw the movie One Week a few days ago, I identified with the character’s reaction to being diagnosed with cancer: he bought a motorcycle and decided to drive from Toronto to the ocean in BC. (I really think he should have headed east, but that’s just my opinion). I think the character must be an introvert because, rather than jump into treatments like his family wants, he takes the time to process things and confront his own mortality.

I’ve heard this movie described as a “love letter to Canada”. This is not your typical Hollywood film, but rather a quirky Canadian road-trip movie, complete with Tim Horton’s and the CN Tower. The movie asks the question “What would you do if you had 1 week, 1 month, 1 year to live?”

Some people may be a bit uncomfortable with the honesty of his thoughts about the diagnosis (e.g. he pictures himself in his coffin). But I found the movie real, uplifting, and at times, funny.

Only in Canada, eh?

Thanks to Sue for recommending the movie and to Vanessa for being my 'date'.

Zak is back!

My doggy buddy Zak has been visiting me since last night. Don’t you think he looks like an ewok?

More columns by Sue Hendler

For those of you who follow Sue Hendler’s column in the Kingston Whig Standard, I think I finally have links to just about all of her columns since she started writing about her cancer journey in July of 2008. Here are the ones that I’ve been missing:

Wanted: Legacy Coach? Not! Nov 14, 2008
A tongue-in-cheek look at how not to get breast cancer Oct 31, 2008
Outwit, outplay, outlast: Am I a breast cancer survivor? Oct 17, 2008
Friends ready for Run for the Cure Oct 3, 2008
I’ve learned to hang on tight during my roller-coaster ride Sept 15, 2008

If you would like to read other columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name below after "Labels".

Beauty of the Cause

I spent this afternoon getting my chest painted. No, I don’t mean a chest of drawers; I mean my actual CHEST.

2010 will be the fourth year that Emilie Robertson and Nancy Davis have published The Beauty of the Cause calendar and I agreed to be a “model”. All proceeds go to the Weekend to End Cancer, a 60 km walk benefiting the Cancer Foundation.

Sylvie Lalonde is the artist and Jen Davidson photographs the pictures that will appear in the calendar. They managed to make sitting topless for over 2 hours in Emilie’s kitchen an interesting and fun experience!

In case you were wondering, no, this picture is not of me (I wish!). It's the cover of the 2009 calendar. In the interest of modesty, I'm keeping which month I'm featured in the 2010 calendar a secret!

Busting the Myths

In an article on the MAMM website, Shana Aborn writes about the Metastatic Breast Cancer Network: What We Need Now. Below is an excerpt from her article, busting some of the myths associated with metastatic breast cancer.

Busting the Myths

There are still a lot of misconceptions about metastatic (stage IV) breast cancer, according to Ellen Moskowitz. Here’s what she has to say:

Myth: Being diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer means you have just a few months to live.

Everyone is different, and no one is a statistic. While it’s true that metastatic disease is incurable, new treatments are allowing us to live longer than the two to three years once thought the norm.

Myth: If you fight hard enough, you can beat this.

We’ll never stop hoping and working for a cure, but the fact is that metastatic breast cancer can’t be “beaten”—fight or no fight.

Myth: If you stay strong and positive, your cancer won’t spread.

A positive attitude is a great thing to have, but it’s not a miracle drug. Telling us to be upbeat all the time also makes us feel that it’s not okay to be angry, depressed or afraid.

Myth: I had a mastectomy, so I’m safe.

It is estimated that 6 to 10 percent of patients are metastatic at their first diagnosis. The rest of us have already been treated for early-stage cancer, but surgery, chemotherapy and radiation didn’t stop the disease from returning and spreading to other areas of our bodies.

Myth: You look too good to be that sick!

Not everyone with metastatic disease looks sick. The treatments we get are usually less aggressive than the first-line therapies used on early-stage cancer, so the side effects may not be as harsh. But even when we look fine on the outside, we may still be exhausted, in pain and emotionally fragile.

Myth: You either beat breast cancer or you die from it.

We’re living with breast cancer, we’re very much here, and we want to be recognized.