Breast Cancer

Breast Cancer, the Unwelcome Visitor

One nurse said to me, “There isn’t ever a ‘good’ time” for breast cancer to happen. Another said, “Breast cancer is never convenient.”

We had sold our house with a provision to do renovations after we left. We were making a long distance move.

We had started a new company with my son and daughter.

We had bought a business.

I promised I would set aside my hypnotherapy business as much as possible for a year to dedicate myself to our new business.

The future looked so bright.

We had great ideas and enthusiasm for Our New Adventure!

June 2, 2006:

Our first “real” day of business there was much excitement. Realistically, we knew there was lots of work ahead, but it was doable. We knew there would be challenges of all sorts. Bravely, we vowed we would work through them.

As the three of them went out to work, I took my 3 year old granddaughter and headed to my doctor’s office to renew my prescriptions before our move. Full of glee I promised to buy her a treat at the store afterwards.

My doctor opened his computer, looked at the screen and said, “I see you had a mammogram yesterday.” I said, “Yes, they will be sending you the results in 3 to 5 days. “No,” he said, “I will have them faxed over.” He left the room to do so. When we finished what I had come for, he again left the room to see if the results have come in. About 10 minutes later, he returned.

He walked into the room, saying, “I have your results and they’re not good.”

He sat down, pulled his chair a little closer, and said, “As a matter of fact, there’s no doubt that it is breast cancer.

At the words, “they’re not good”, my heart stopped.

At the words, it’s breast cancer, the world turned over. No, that doesn’t happen to me, I thought. No, this can’t be happening.

He said, “I know you‘re planning on moving at the end of the month. But this is what is going to be happening. You will be having a biopsy and surgery as soon as possible. This will be followed up with chemotherapy, possibly radiation. This will be your life for, at least, the next year.”

All I could think of was my daughter and my little granddaughter who was playing with toys near my chair and what this could mean for their future.

There had not been any history of breast cancer in my family. I had breast fed all three of my children. I hadn’t a care in the world about breast cancer. Until then.

Stunned I left the office and went straight home. There would not be a trip to the store that day. Already I felt separated from the rest of mankind.

So it began.

July 13, 2006

In Lethbridge, Alberta, I had a right mastectomy. 11 lymph nodes were removed, it had spread to 2.

At the end of July, we moved to Kelowna, B.C.

It was some form of torture. My husband and son had to return to Lethbridge as soon as we were unloaded. I was alone in a house with packing boxes. My daughter got to return to her home after months away, but had to come over to look after me all the time. I have no idea how she coped.

Autumn, 2006

One day my daughter and I were driving home to the Westside from Kelowna. The sun was bright, even a little bit blinding. She commented that as it had been cool and cloudy that morning, she had left her sunglasses at home. Now, in a few hours, the day had changed dramatically; we were in a beautiful hot, Okanagan summer day and she needed her sunglasses.

Minutes later, we were standing in the family room at my home. Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed. A huge wind came up out of nowhere, trees were being tossed every which way as the wind howled crazily down the hillside and blowing in a sudden rage around the houses. Leaves blew furiously high into the air, in every mixed up direction. I’d never seen anything like. An old tree in downtown Kelowna was uprooted and blown over.

In ten minutes it was over. As suddenly as it started, the trees stopped moving, the leaves fell to the earth, everything became quiet – and that beautiful, Okanagan summer resumed as if nothing had happened.

This is breast cancer, I thought. This is exactly what it is like.

A whirlwind that comes out of nowhere, that comes quickly, out of the blue and completely changes everything. You’re left gasping for breath, if you can breathe at all.

Breast cancer creates and leaves its own form of destruction behind.

Breast cancer may feel as if a giant hand has reached into your life, picked everything up and tossed it all into the air. Now, you get to see where it all lands and what your life will look like.

Some things are more challenging, some things may become better.

You meet some wonderful helping people. People who have been diagnosed with breast cancer; people who are highly trained in the breast cancer field; volunteers who give of their time to make life a little easier for you. These are people who know breast cancer.

You will be overwhelmed at times.

You cannot do this breast cancer journey alone. You will need a buddy to go to appointments. A close or a new relationship may become even closer.

Some people will be kind; you will be amazed at such generosity of time and spirit.

Some people will be cruel. One woman said to me, “You friends will desert you.” Breast cancer patients often talk about the look they see on the faces of people when they learn they have cancer. They feel hurt and isolated when they sense a withdrawing. Many friends and even loved ones disappear.

It will impact on your relationships. One woman said, “My husband has not hugged me since I was diagnosed.” Marriages have failed. Others have thrived.

Even in the midst of love, you may feel isolated and alone. After all, this is your journey; the others may walk beside you but you walk on the path.

During your journey with breast cancer, your emotions take a trip of their own. You may cry copious tears at unexpected times. Like the whirlwind, emotions can be a flurry that whips up in an otherwise calm, sweet moment. Sometimes you dread being with others because you never know what you’ll do or what they’ll say. Best intentions may go astray and hurt terribly.

There is anger. Your own anger and the anger of others will flash up in a storm. It will hurt.

People will generously offer their assistance only to turn a deaf ear when you accept it. You will need help.

Shopping may be very tiring and difficult but you need nutritious food, good water and even getting out to see the world outside of the cancer clinic or a doctor’s office does still exist is important.

Once you’ve had surgery or treatment for your breast cancer you will need help with heavier housework. You’ll be amazed at how heavy a pot can be and how high or low a shelf has become. A vacuum cleaner that you never paid much attention to before is now a heavy cumbersome weight.

This is a time to say “I need help” to family, friends, fellow church members, and co-workers. Accept it graciously. Ignore the help that never shows up. Rise above the unkindness and neglect of those who should have and could have helped you. They have their own problems. Hard as it is, this is a time for you to let it go.

You need loving kindness around you. Gentleness that understands your many mood swings. You need a healing peacefulness. Create it as much as you can.

When I was diagnosed, I created a sanctuary in my room. I bought apple green sheets with a matching cotton blanket. Green is a healing colour. I bought a bouquet of white tulips and set them in a vase in a corner of my bedroom where I could see it easily. I put pictures of my family nearby.

I set up a small cd player in my room close to my bed and put a stack of healing music beside it. I mostly played a cd my son and daughter-in-law gave me. It acted as an anchor, partly because it had been a gift from them, and held me for many months.

I remembered a website I had been to when I was first studying hypnosis. I went there immediately and copied all the affirmations which I recorded, along with some prayerful thoughts of my own.

I recorded many hypnotherapy tapes and had them with a tape deck next to my bed. When I would suddenly become overwhelmed I would quickly go to my room, put the headphones on and disappear into a safe place.

When the whole world seems out of your control, self hypnosis gives you time to focus and renew yourself. It reminds you that you are in control, or can be, of your thoughts. It may magically work with one session; it may take concerted effort over a period of time.

Spring 2007

I was deeply depressed. Sometimes even the sound of my own voice or the words I was saying would infuriate me. So I took a break from the tapes. I turned to using Alpha Waves more and gradually, over the months, I could listen to the tapes again.

Some days, like when the results of my first year mammogram were not good in September 2007, I would pick up my digital camera and do a walkabout in my own backyard, taking pictures. Sometimes, it’s best to regroup before you face the next battle.

Battles

With breast cancer, a battle may simply be that you are going to hear something you don’t want to hear – but you have to do it. It may be an appointment you have to go to and it’s taking all your courage to get out the door. A battle may be not allowing information overload to crush you permanently. (That’s why you need a buddy to go to all your appointments with you.)

A battle may be looking on the bright side when you are nauseated, in pain, have mouth sores and body aches, can’t sleep, your hair falls out and your head is aching with cold, your eyebrows disappear and you hardly recognise the person in the mirror, your finger and toenails become discoloured and misshapen, your skin dries out no matter how much cream you put on it, or a myriad of other side effects.

A battle may be your children need you and you can’t help them. You can’t run and play, you may not be able to buy them a gift or take them where they need go. The biggest battle may be the guilt you feel that they are not having the childhood they deserve.

A battle may be that you have just had someone you love get mad at you for something you can’t help. Or someone has said something mean.

A battle may be that your money has run out, you are going into debt, you can’t afford some of your medical needs.

A battle may be that your memory is affected, thoughts are difficult to form words but nobody understands this.

A battle may be that you are tired and people think you need a nap and then you’ll be back to normal.

A battle may be no food in the refrigerator and you are too tired to shop.

A battle may be hearing someone’s trite cliché comments about you and your experience with breast cancer (of which they know nothing)and not crying right then and there. (Maybe you should)

A battle may be overcoming to urge to slap someone who suggests you look on the bright side! I know, I said it, didn’t I? I know that none of these are small things. They won’t be going away anytime soon. Your whole life has been changed. And change is hard.

But…sometimes we simply need, absolutely must, look at something else to give our minds and our emotions a much needed break. Use your mind. It is the one thing we can control. Don’t expect that you can just think of something else necessarily and, like magic, all will be well. No magic formulas, no easy ways are here. But with persistence, with true intent, it will work.

The trick is to focus on something other then what you are experiencing with breast cancer right then. Make your thoughts go somewhere else. Step 1: Stop your current thought. Step 2: Go where you want to go. It requires a decision on your part. You have to make a choice. Say to yourself. This is horrible. I need to go somewhere else. I will go to my sanctuary. Then look at a photo or painting, listen to some healing music, work on a jigsaw puzzle, step into your garden or tour your house plants and talk to them. You know what I mean! Anything that helps you to step out of the present moment and into another is looking on the bright side.

The Bright Side

Looking on the bright side is not some well-meaning (?) person who bleats “Always look for the silver lining” at you. It is sitting in a chair because you are too sore and too exhausted to get out of it, staring at a ray of sunshine, and making yourself think, “Look at that exquisite ray of sunshine, look how it sparkles through the crystal I hung in the window, look at all the lights flashing around me and the cat trying to catch them (silly old thing thinks it’s a kitten), look at the dust floating through the air (haha, I don’t care about dusting anymore), what a wonderful world this is and for a moment I get to just sit here and see it in all it’s glory.” That’s all.

Just let yourself go somewhere else for a few minutes and for that few minutes you are not thinking of …nausea, fear, pain and so on. For a moment, you can have a little rest in a better place.

More on all of this later.

Send me your comments or very short stories if you would like. I may edit them for length and will publish them when I can. No cursing allowed. I mean, you can say it if you must but I can’t publish it so, please, edit it out before you send it. Cursing only brings negative energy to yourself and others. This is the place to share your story, not to vent. There are some excellent groups to join where you can vent.
Share your heartaches; shares your triumphs.

Please join Breast Cancer Prayer At 4 P.M.

Be well in whatever way you can.

And know that you are loved. Somewhere out there, someone is thinking about you.