Something from David H

The Importance Of Cancer Support Groups

Many cancer patients find extreme benefit from joining cancer support groups. A network of supporters can help them manage the flood of emotions and fears they experience during cancer treatment and beyond. Studies have shown that support groups lessen anxiety, boost self-esteem, lower depression, and improve relationships. They are also excellent information and education resources.

Cancer patients, along with their family members and caregivers, often find support groups to be good therapy. But cancer support groups are not therapy groups, although psychologists and social workers may facilitate group meetings. They are more like community-based sharing groups, and each one develops a life of its own.

Whether they are cancer survivors, in remission, or going through treatment, all cancer patients have questions. And they all have numerous emotions to handle. They need a place to go for honest answers and emotional support. Cancer support groups are that place.

Support groups are empathetic communities of people who know cancer and understand the fears. Walking the cancer path is lonely, cold, and isolating. But support groups provide warm, understanding company for the journey.

Joining a cancer support group may be uncomfortable, or even scary. After all, the group members represent many different faces of cancer, and everyone must confront hard issues, including their own mortality. But support groups help validate the cancer experience and offer immeasurable support for the journey.

This validation and support is hugely important for cancer patients. It provides patients with a better grasp of their condition, and a better quality of life.

Interestingly, the survival rate may also be better for support group members than for those who undergo medical treatment alone. The American Cancer Society says many studies have been conducted to explore the effect of support groups on survivorship. While there were no hard-and-fast findings, it is evident that support groups complement medicine and help with treatment.

Some support groups are designed to help patients cope with a particular cancer. For example, Reach To Recovery supports breast cancer survivors, Man-to-Man helps men with prostate cancer, and there are even support groups out there for people diagnosed with a deadly disease like mesothelioma. Other groups, like Cancer Survivors Network, offer community and online support for people with any type of cancer.

Loved ones need support, too, and many support groups exist for family members and caregivers. These people are on the flip side of the cancer coin. They need support for their feelings of anger, guilt, frustration, and caregiver burnout.

The Internet is a helpful tool for finding cancer support groups. Patients can also locate groups through their doctor, nurses, hospital social workers, or community organizations. Some patients prefer groups that meet in person, while others are more comfortable with online support. Either way, there exists a cancer support group to meet anyone’s needs.

An article that might be of interest...

From David Haas...

Procrastination

So I have this gene. It's a procrastination gene. It works like this: I have a thought of something that I should do, like blogging. I say to myself  "I'll do that tomorrow." Tomorrow shows up, only it's six months later; I have finished the bad part of chemo and my has grown back. I have finished my first Breast Cancer Walk. And I have been fitted for prosthetic breasts. That was the tomorrow I should have been blogging about. Yesterday.

So today I have treatment. I'm there almost all day and totally exhausted after my trip from Chicago (in which I fell in love probably 40 different time a day but that's another blog...) and for a Monday, it's pretty lively. I don't usually have treatment on Mondays but as I was at a conference last week, this was my new day. And let me tell you: I think I have been missing out on a party! There were friends and family members and laughter. TONS of laughter. But there was also the usual head nods of silent empathy from other patients as they head head to the bathroom trailing their IV hangers filled with toxic bags marked with big "handle with care: chemotherapy. Dispose of properly." My doctor checks my arm for the staph infection/ cellulitis that developed last week and we celebrate my hemoglobin counts (11!). I am under warm blankets and fall asleep. The thing about sleeping during treatment is the dreams. I don't even remembered what I dreamt today. But that is really not the point. The point is that I'm doing very well. The chemo I'm doing now is herceptin. Because it's so well tolerated (no nausea, no fatigue, no vomiting!) patients are reluctant to call it chemo.But let's call a spade a spade, shall we?

Until next time...

L'Chaim!

So I have been terrible at blogging. This was supposed to be the one thing that kept any sanity in my life. Well, not to say that there hasn't been sanity, it's just...different. So, I had my final chemo this past Thursday! HOORAY! This has certainly been a journey, not one that I would want anyone to have to go through. In a month my hair should start growing back. I'm taking bets as to what color and texture it will be :)

I now know what it's like to have to be shut up in the house because I have no immune system. That only happened once, but it was scary nonetheless. I have never been good at accepting or asking for help from others, I am usually the caretaker. This reversal has been difficult for me and I am still learning how to  deal with it. The Red Cross has set up shelters in the area due to the flooding of the Mighty Mo. It has been a helpless feeling to not be able to do what comes so naturally to me: run a shelter. But in the end, after the doctors and everyone told me NO! I have come to accept it, almost gracefully.

I always thought I would have a spiritual experience during something like this. My spirituality came not in the form of angels hovering above me but in the form of seeing the Universe all around me. Sri Krishna says to us the Bhagavad Gita "...Be humble, be harmless, have no pretension..." I think this is something that I have learned more of. I will have a Mikvah when this is all said in done, a ritual cleansing in the Jewish faith. I will say my prayers and rededicate myself to the Universe for the blessing of Life.

I am grateful for the lessons I have learned during this journey, but even more so, I am ever grateful for the strength I have found in myself, my friends and family, and most of all, in Love.

Note to C

Dear Cancer,
You took my hair. You took my boobs. You took any sense of regularity I had, and because chemo likes to kill my blood cells, you inadvertently took those as well. But let's be clear: you will not take my love for Taco Bell Fruitistas. You will not take my desire to see good in the world, and you certainly won't take from me my outlook.
Thank you for your time.
~me

Babushkas

So as you know I made it to day 14, but my doctor was right. I was bound and determined to be the one patient that could prove her wrong about losing hair to chemo. Turns out I was wrong and she knew what she was talking about. Duh. So because my hair was so thick, I lost a lot of it before it became noticeable. Eventually it did and it had to go. While losing my hair, I was traumatized. Seriously. Every time I touched my head clumps of hair would leave it. I think it was worse than losing my boobs. Isn't that strange? I would have thought it to be the other way around. So Monday night was "D-Day" for me. It took two really great friends and a glass of wine. And now, we all (yes, you read that right) look like Sinéad O'Connor or GI Jane, whichever your preference. But I have to say, I am not as traumatized anymore. I think it was harder to make the decision and have my hair fall out, but as as several someones have said, I won. So, now I have a bubushka on my head, tied in the back of course! And you know what, I kinda rock the look! :)

Day 14

I have been TERRIBLE at blogging! Honestly, I haven't had any energy to do it. My energy level is nil. I think I must have been a cat in a past life because it seems as though all I do is sleep. I did go back to work this week  and that has been awesome. I'm with all my girls and that makes me happy. What doesn't make me happy is that my hair is actually starting to fall out. I was counting down the days and sure enough I made it to "Day 14-D Day" and was ready to tell the doctors that the 10-14 days doesn't apply to me (when hair is supposed to fall out). Sure enough, there were other plans for me. I was sitting on the couch yesterday afternoon running my fingers through my hair. Handfuls of hair. Enough to make a birds nest with. I'm determined to not cut it yet. Maybe that's all the hair I will lose....My hair is to me what Samson's hair was to him before Delilah cut it in the middle of the night....

Yul Brynner and Seams

Imagine this: a father and his daughter are sitting in the doctor's office. The daughter turns to her dad "Pop, I'm not ready to lose my hair." "That's ok. There are plenty of bald people in the world. Telly Savalas. Yul Brynner. Sinéad O'Connor.There is also Patrick Stewart, Vin Diesel and Samuel L. Jackson." Nice. Honestly, you had to have been there. I was literally bursting at my seams. (Yes, this is an actual occurrence I worry about). I'm off work for another week to recuperate. This is probably a good thing since many of you know that I will have a full-scale take on the world, again, attitude. I started chemo last Thursday. All in all it went well. There are the side affects like vomit, diarrhea and chills. But seriously, That wasn't the whole time and I consider myself lucky. My hair is supposed to "fall out" within 10-14 days. I figure if I wash it only every other day I can prolong looking like Mr. Jackson. Just a little longer....

Hematoma

So I know it's been over a week since I posted. It's the Polish Procrastination Gene I carry...seriously though. It makes me delayed for everything in my life! So last week I had a double mastectomy and node removal. My friends and nurses were awesome to say the least. When it came time to go home (and believe me I was ready) I thought about taking the nurses with me. It would have been kind of like Big Love, only different. It's strange to see the little bulge of a belly I have without breasts to balance me out. In their place is a horizontal scar that states loudly "Yes, breasts were here!" I have a port for chemo put in on my left side. It's foreign to have this thing in me that slightly protrudes and itches as the stitches dissolve. I had three drains put into place. My son nicknamed them my "babies" because I would carry them as I walked. I had them removed on Wednesday. Hallelujah! But wait! Before we sing a praise unto the Universe I have to tell you this story. I giggle at the grossness of it now, but really, I was terrified. OK: so I'm eating lunch at Yesterday's Cafe when all of a sudden I feel wet. I look down and pull up my shirt a little. There is a lot of drainage coming out from where the drains had been. A little was to be expected but this was more than that. In the car I look. Sure enough where I had no breast an hour ago I had one now. Back to the doctor's office. Hematoma. "It has to come out. Now." As the nurse takes off the dressing (mind you I am sitting up), blood squirts everywhere! I am given local anesthesia and my doctor takes the scalpel to me. The sound of skin being cut is something I never really wanted to know about outside of horror movies. At the end of this process I see it. Nasty! Gross! Intriguing! It had to be taken out in four different pieces after she had gotten two other pieces out. It was like a really well-set jello. This version of it is much more mild than how I tell it verbally. Trying to spare to reaction of heaving that it has gotten. Moral of the story: I should have been more specific when I prayed for new boobs.

synchronicity

Chopra teaches us that synchronicity is the foundation of life. Let me be a little more specific: nothing that happens to us is coincidence. Have you ever noticed that when you're in need of something somehow whatever you need comes into your path? Sure it may not happen exactly at the moment you want it to happen, but it happens when it's supposed to. So in my life things have worked out that way. For instance: I applied to do my clinical placement where I have my job currently. Needless to say, my application got lost in the shuffle. Months later I end up calling the HIV dept about something and my name rings a bell with Darla. I applied for a job and lo and behold--my career! So I tell this story because I believe that things happen to us and people come into our lives when it's supposed to happen. I have been so very blessed to have the love, friendship and support of my department (and really the whole clinic) that perhaps I may not have received should I have been elsewhere. This is synchronicity. Plain and simple.
Cancer has taught me to be more forgiving and less resentful. Mind you, not that I was carrying around a bag of resentments, but we all have our things to carry with us. I have learned a lot.
Tomorrow, I will learn what I always preach: beauty is not on the outside. Just remind me of that when I will be bald and boob-less. And really,  I'm in love with my boobs. But who else can head into their 40's with new boobs and  a head of new hair? Damn! I'm one lucky girl!    Mardi Gras, Here I come!

Retail Therapy

Retail therapy is just that: therapy. It fills a void that we have at that very moment. I'm very good at this type of therapy, but this past week I think I could have been entered into the Guinness Book of World Records! So on Monday I had a follow up appt. My best friend and I agreed that she didn't need to come since the doctor was going to look at the incision sites, give her thumbs up and send me to my medical oncologist for my chemo schedule. Instead, I found out that there is more cancer and I have to have a mastectomy. So in approximately one month I will be bald and boobless. Nice. So I filled the angst with retail therapy. I went to Penny's looking for a duvet cover since the one I had was old. Instead, I walked out with a comforter set. They didn't have one in Queen size, so I made them take the display down. I NEEDED IT. I totally convinced myself. Even though it is not my style. I thought "bad news=new bedding." Rational, right? Well, 2 days later I decided I didn't like it. All the tags are off and I'm stuck. But wait--Tax returns!! "Tax returns=new bedding" in my style! So I placed my order for what I really wanted: a purple Indian sari duvet cover. It's purple and gold. Hand made. exactly my style. It's coming this week...along with my new address labels that I paid to have 2-day shipped because they just can't get here fast enough. I've been working on patience my whole life. Doesn't always pan out. Perhaps I will learn some when I'm out of work for 2 weeks and reading Rumi and Chopra. I'm just thankful I don't get the Home Shopping Network. That would be serious Retail Therapy that I just could not afford!

eat. pray. love.

Did I ever mention that I tried to be Hindu once? Yes. I was in search for God. For something. I thought I would become mystical. That didn't happen. I always heard these stories of people going through cancer as "finding something more than they already found." This hasn't happened. I think maybe I'm waiting for my room to light up and some random and beautiful angel will hover over me and give me some great message. You know, like what happens in Angels in America. This hasn't happened either. It's not as if I've lost my Faith, per se. It's more like I think I have to work at it to keep it. It just seems like I'm working so hard already. I believe that everything happens for a reason. Lately though, I think my reason is so that I can become a saint to the mangy squirrels in the trees. This is what has happened this past week of doctor-ordered home-boundness: I feed the squirrels, watch them, pray for them. In essence, I have become a "squirrel-peeper" much to the chagrin of my father who would love them in a way I can't fathom (with a pellet gun).This is my truth. I wish I could say it's the meds, but I can't use that anymore. So instead, I say that it's the boredom.

Perhaps Ganesha will remove the obstacle of cancer within me just as he will remove the obstacle of mange in my new friends.

Namaste.

Bored.

So I finally took a shower (YIPEE!!!) and went to the grocery. This too was awesome, but I suppose there is a reason that my doctor said to stay home. At 35 I'm holding on to the side of the cart that Miguel is pushing as though I am 75. All I need is a cane. But I suppose if I could have one thing, it would be for my boobies to be the same size. That's right: the one is the size of a fricken grapefruit. Not cool. I now have an insider's glimpse as to what having big boobies is all about. Let me just say that this is not for me....anyway, I'm thinking that the incision in my armpit from the lymph nose dissection is much more uncomfortable than my chest at this point. And now that I'm off the drugs, I'm just bored, especially since I still can't do anything. Oh, and I have a cold. Ok, ok, I know I'm whiny today. But this is what boredom brings a Bizzie Bee that can't do anything...

Blueberry Pee

That's right, blueberry pee. And it is referring to what you are probably thinking: my pee is blue from the dye I was injected with during my surgery. See all the fun I am having? LOL. So surgery went well: they had to cut a larger margin since there were two new growth spots. Needless to say I feel mutilated. I also have an area about 2 inches in my underarm area where they did a lymph node biopsy, but they may have taken some of the nodes as well.  But let me clarify: I'm on some serious drugs so everything is just a haze. Which is awesome since the pain is merely there but the dreams are freaky. I have dreams about water and trains and my boobs....

So as I'm just starting to come out from anesthesia, I was being wheeled back to my room. I'm under a white blanket, my mind just starting to wake up, but my body too heavy yet. Anyway, there were 2 nurses wheeling me on my gurney and they were talking softly to each other "She didn't say anything about family.." "No, she didn't. Does she have any family? Who do we contact?" All I could think was that some poor unsuspecting would walking by would be looking for my toe tag...

Let us Pray

I'm waiting here at the hospital with my faithful entourage (Kim and Mikel), you know, every girl needs a following :) in purple hospital slippers with bear paws all over them...Oh, and the military style nun who wanted to pray with me. "Awesome, but you know I'm Jewish?" "Oh, not that that's bad, but.."  (Note, I am in a Catholic hospital) Ah, only in South Dakota. I'm hoping that soon I will be on a beach somewhere warm and not on a crazy acid trip while I'm under. That would be more scary than cancer...which I should mention I want to see. Seriously, I want to see this thing inside my body. I remember seeing it on the ultrasound and saying, "holy shit, that doesn't belong there!" Nonetheless, I want them to show it to me. I suppose that asking to take it home and burn it in a ceremony in my backyard is probably out of the question, huh? Oh well, you can't have everything.             

Eating the Moon

"I sit down among the chains and the the ropes to talk to the spirit in my beating heart when deep in my dark belly a flame sparks and starts to grow."--D. Hurni

I love this line in the poem. It reminds me of this tumor. Sitting in a dark space, growing. Quietly, rapidly and with cruel intention. I find myself extremely conflicted this evening. I have surgery tomorrow. I'm extremely anxious to have this over with. And yet, I have a quiet resonance about it. Maybe it's the Cat Stevens I'm listening to. Or all the people who are sending love and light out. Maybe it's the pink nail polish that I just put on my fingers for this surgery. Yes, you did read that right: I painted my nails pink for the surgery.  So exactly what did I do today to prepare for tomorrow? Oddly, not what one would think. Jamie (the other half of my Dynamic Duo) and I were doing outreach at the adult bookstores. I bought an almost body-sized pillow (one needs to be extremely comfortable you know), and season 4 of Big Love. I had a Hornsby's. There was no real fuss or preparation. I'm thinking other people have more of a plan. Perhaps that goes along with my life, lack of planning. Maybe I just don't care to have one. I know what's gonna happen. They will cut it out of me. I will heal. There's no other option. No more. No less. Or as Edwina says "Things happen when they happen, so relax."

The Capitol

So the "What if" answer came as I walking down by the Capitol building with a group of friends for lunch. Jan 06. The day before my father's birthday.   "It's cancer" the doctor said. The world around me went silent. I felt like I was in a slow motion film. Or a silent one with Charlie Chaplin. All I need were the signs in between the screens to indicate what was going on: ("Happy birthday, Pop. Oh, by the way, I have breast cancer." Yeah, not so much.).. I believe in serendipity. Needless to say Janese, Taz and I had an emotional lunch in the ladies bathroom. America has the song "A horse with no name." That's me right now. In a desert. Blinded. Better yet, the Beatles "Across the Universe"..Nothing's gonna change my world. My ex told me that she didn't think I had time to have cancer. She's right. I don't. But yet, I have to say I don't think it has completely hit me yet. I feel extremely detached from it. I don't know if this is normal...

Life in the ribbon

That title came from my son...a 13 year old genius. The idea for the blog came from my sister...I'm not really sure what this blog is going to look like. Maybe like Julie & Julia? Oh, but I'm not cooking :) I guess in a way though, I'm cooking up my recipe for the rest of my life. I've always been indestructible. Until Jan 3 of this year. I had found a lump about 5 days prior to my annual exam. My doctor sent me directly to the Comprehensive Breast Care Center where my boobs were pulled and prodded and flattened (Ladies: take Tylenol before your mammo). Then off to ultrasound where I saw It. There it was, this mass that was not supposed to be there. It didn't hurt, but it I knew it had a certain potential. As the radiologist was talking to me about the different types of lumps, he indicated that mine was not normal, so he performed a biopsy. I was to be in Des Moines the rest of the week and knew I would get the results there. I cried all the way home and all the way to Des Moines. the only thought I could think was "What if?"