Cancer and the Five Stages of Grief

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance 

I have read a lot of statements by cancer survivors lately; how the ordeal made them appreciate life more, see people in a different way, do things that they had been putting off. And it made me think back over the past 17 years. I get it. I’ve been there. I did the same after the first couple of cancer scares. And I had GRIEVED. Not about the fact that I had cancer, but for the life I would never know again. A life where I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder. Where I could be free, naive, feel safe.

DENIAL? You betcha! Denial steps up to the plate first, every time! It’s easy to talk yourself out of the truth. I think denial is a cushion to help soften the blow. It lets you gradually face the realization of what’s going on without hitting that brick wall at high speed. It’s one of the most important stages in the process. You can take my word on that one.

BARGAINING? Oh, I have done a LOT of bargaining – with any higher power that would listen. And absolutely with myself. I still bargain. Even when cancer isn't present. But by the fourth recurrence, just a year after my third, I came to the realization that I was done with bargaining. I got ANGRY. Angry at the fact that I couldn’t live life to the fullest because I was always looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t make plans too far ahead. The cancer might be back by then. Anger followed me everywhere – on the inside. On the outside, I was my usual smiley, optimistic self. I didn’t want anyone to worry about me. I landed in a very dark place that year. I felt defeated, sad, scared. I had barely healed from the previous surgery and was facing another. And I sat down in a great big puddle of DEPRESSION. Defeated. Because now there was the chance that the cancer might come back again quickly every time. I was not ready for that. I needed the four year span between recurrences to get my act together. Right about here, though, there needs to be another stage - ENVY. Every so often I would think of friends and family who had never had anything seriously wrong with them. And I was envious. Extremely envious. So wishing I could turn back the hands of time to when cancer was not one of the nouns at the top of my own personal vocabulary list. The thought never lasts long, but it has returned many, many times over the years. You know who you are! ;-)

But I survived. A year went by and I was still clear. Another year, and then another. The clouds lifted and I began to think it might be possible that surgery #4 was the last one I would have to endure. A girl can dream.

Then it was once again denial’s turn. The devil had awoken. It was late September when the pain hit. I knew what it was but kept telling myself it was something else. It couldn’t be that. It was probably just a little blockage causing some issues. The pain came. Then went. A family doctor visit that led to tests and scans. Still in denial. A referral to my gynecologist. Waiting. Wondering. Hopeful one minute. Depressed the next. Denial always standing close by to buffer the blow. Surely it wasn’t another recurrence. But deep down I knew it was. And I was right.

I had been so downtrodden after the fourth recurrence, I never dreamed I would have the strength to go through it all again. But I did. And I stayed so positive, and so unemotional during the months leading up to surgery that I amazed myself. It wasn’t an act. I do not know where the strength came from. But until I got halfway through writing this post, I hadn't realized what got me through that one. Now I know.

ACCEPTANCE. Emerging from the depth of hell four years prior to a strong mother and grandmother four years later, a powerhouse who hugged her family outside the waiting room and walked herself to the OR, head held high, laughing with the orderly who walked with me, waiting patiently and calmly outside the door of the OR for the medical team to gather. Thinking back now, I believe that at that point in my journey, I had finally gone through all five stages of grief. I had finally accepted that this is my life and how it was meant to be. It was a long time coming.

Two years later and things still look good. If there happens to be a sixth recurrence, however, I suspect I will be backtracking quickly to the anger stage, dosed with a little denial on the side. But I suspect it will only last for a little while and acceptance will appear. Because I'm an optimist. And that’s what optimists do.

And my husband? He just celebrated his 3^rd anniversary since treatment ended, is still cancer free, and doing wonderfully. What more could a gal ask for?

Until next time .....

~ B-Optimistic! :-)

Today marks the 10th anniversary of this blog. 

💙

In spite of the negatives over the past decade, 

I remain 'Forever the Optimist'! ;-)

A long overdue check-in!

I have no idea how many followers I have, but it just dawned on me a couple of days ago that if I do have any (other than family and friends), there may be some curiosity about whether I have moved on to a higher plain given the length of time between posts. ;-)

Let it be known that I am still here …. still kicking … and still living my life between recurrences as stress-less-ly as I can. My latest recurrence in late 2016 was tackled head on and quickly in early 2017 with surgery to remove two tumours – the troublemaker and a second one that might have gotten into some mischief if given half the chance.

It was a harder than usual recovery for me this time, but not as bad as some of my GCT sisters have had. It's been a rough couple of years for the gals in that group. We lost several sisters, all who have GCT, and all who fought diligently against this disease until the very end. Several were just beginning life.

It's been rough on a personal level too but not because of my own trials. I lost two friends from high school …. One suddenly from a ruptured aorta, and the other from a pancreatic cancer diagnosis. Those two were the hardest. But there have been others …. so many others who have passed on … acquaintances and relatives and more … all taken too soon and many not much older than me. Cancer is high on the list as the cause.

I don’t tend to express my emotions to others, verbally or otherwise. Mainly because I’m sure everyone has their own worries, concerns, fears. And, to be downright honest, most people don't want to talk about it because it makes them uncomfortable. I'm OK with that. I do pride myself on being a good listener, though, so I do talk to myself a lot! 😉 That being said, I am not going to haul out my emotions and lay them on the table here either. Let it be known, however, that losing people just a bit older than you – especially when you are only in your early 60’s - is extremely devastating and also thought provoking. But to lose people your own age with so much to live for, can knock you right on your keister and keep you there for a very, very long time. It makes me wonder ... when will my turn come. What will be my demise. It's hard not to think that way when you are surrounded by loss.

None of us know what we are going to find as we meander down that road of life. Personally, I am one of very few who would like to have access to that crystal ball. But I’ve been thinking … hard … and I do want to say this. Live for yourself. Always. Make yourself the priority. Not your spouse, not your kids, not your parents. Yourself. Live your own life. Follow your dreams .. don’t let someone else influence what, how, and when you do things. The old cliché “Stop and smell the roses” has a far deeper meaning than most of us realize. Don’t smell someone else’s roses. Tend to your own rose bush and be sure to inhale deeply every day of your life. I have some regrets that I didn't realize this much sooner in life. I've got it figured out now though. ;-)

Until next time …….

~ B-Optimistic 😊

P.S. I’ll share the low-down on survivor’s guilt sometime soon! It’s a real thing.

Time Flies .....

Time flies. Seriously. My Mother always said that when you get older, it will go faster. When your Mom tells you something like this, you really should take it seriously. She was so right! I can’t believe that it’s already been nearly 10 months since my last blog post. I can’t say that it has ALL been fun though!

An update from my last post (and I apologize for my lateness with this task):

I enjoyed Christmas with family! That was an unexpected, but well accepted bonus. With surgery scheduled for January 5^th, I got to enjoy all of the festivities. I am not sure if that is the reason, but I do have to say that I was a real trooper this time. I stayed calm (well, somewhat calm) and went in with the attitude that ‘it is what it is’. I walked to the OR and sat patiently waiting for them to get things ready for ‘my turn’. The surgery itself was standard. Both tumours were removed – both easily – but unfortunately one of them ruptured, pretty much guaranteeing that this won’t be my last walk down that long hallway. ☹

My recovery in hospital, although not horrendous, was far from pleasant. I was a patient longer than hoped for as I had more complications than the previous 4 surgeries. I was assigned a different anesthesiologist (even though I asked for my usual guy) and I really do think that makes a difference. I ended up with kidney issues that thankfully were dealt with quickly and successfully, a touch of pneumonia, and an allergic reaction to the pain killer - which resulted in a longer hospital stay. I was in misery the whole time I was there. The hospital was too hot (even the nurses complained) and I do not handle heat well. I could not wait to leave. It was wonderful to be home, but once there, I developed what was believed to be two seromas, both requiring surgically inserted drainage tubes, another factor to slow my recovery time. Thankfully it was winter and I had no urge to step outside the door. It was two months before I could say that I felt human again. But I survived.

I am now doing OK now after 7 months and the tenderness is finally easing to the point where it is just occasional discomfort. Life is getting back to normal (well, whatever ‘normal’ is for a cancer survivor). Honestly, I really don’t remember what a normal life feels like …. I’ve spent way too long in this phase of my existence.

I was surprised to find that I have more anger after this last surgery. I am angry that I always have anxiety when a new ache or pain appears. I am angry that I will always have that threat of ‘return’ hanging over my head and angry that it also affects not only my life, but that of my children and grandchildren.

But, thankfully, I also have that optimism in the back of my mind … it’s just there … as it should be. Because there is always hope. I’m still alive. And it’s been 15 years. I have friends and acquaintances who have passed recently who only had months after their diagnosis. Life is not always fair. And I can’t help but wonder … why am I still here? Do I still have some mission that I haven’t accomplished yet? Some stone unturned? A goal that I set for myself when I came back as this persona – yes, I do believe that we return. 😉 Whatever it is, I will wait for it … and hope I recognize it when it happens. And for the record -  If optimism is what is keeping me here, then I guess I’m in it for the long haul!

The moral to this story? Enjoy your life. If my friends David, Dwain, Anna, Angus, Dave, and others were here, they would tell you the exact same thing. Don’t take anything for granted. Oh, and one more thing. My Mother was right, but with one exception …. Time does fly, but you don’t always get older to find that out. R.I.P. my friends.

Until next time …….

B-Optimistic  😊

GCT - The Saga Continues

Well, it became official a few weeks ago - following confirmation from a CT Scan - that I am once again facing a GCT recurrence. I went 4 years this time before the tell-tale pain in my side hit, but I was thrown off a bit because there had been no other cues - no persistent cough, no loss of appetite, no common symptoms at all. The pain lasted only long enough for me to make the decision to seek out medical attention, but has been absent since that time. So, for the past couple of months, I have lived life as usual, with nothing to slow me down. But the verdict is in, it is there, and it must come out.

I saw my Oncologist in Halifax, N.S. this past Thursday. We discussed the potential complications that could transpire with surgery - nothing different from previous pre-surgery discussions - but with each subsequent surgery, the risks do become magnified. I could have chosen the option to wait and watch, but in my mind that just increased the risks for when the time came that I did have to have the surgery. So onward we go!

Christmas this year will be spent either in hospital or at home recuperating from surgery, but that is fine. And this year my list to Santa is just a little different. Rather than asking him to bring me something, I am asking him to take something away!! Won't he be surprised! HOHOHO

Until next time ....
~ BOptimistic (in spite of it all) ~

I Really am Doing Fine ......

My three (3) year post surgery anniversary is coming up in mid September 2015. I'd like to forget that I’ve ever had cancer, but the thought really never does go away completely. Once you’ve had cancer, it is always quick to give you a fright. Every little ache or pain becomes magnified – like an echo in a barrel. But so far, so good! Right now I’m fine and still sticking by my ‘One day at a time’ motto … which goes hand in hand with my favourite saying, ‘It is what it is’. I remain optimistic in light of it all. The odds are good that GCT will pop up again, but that doesn’t mean it will. See! Optimism galore! ;-)

I can only assume that others who have been through their own struggles with cancer can share this - I expect it’s common. Lately I have noticed a little extra something when people I haven’t seen in awhile ask how I am doing. Perhaps it’s because I’ve had so many recurrences over the past 13 years. Whatever the reason, I answer this question with my normal, “I’m fine today. One day at a time, you know” accentuated with a smile. (I used to say, “I’m doing great!” until the 3^rd and 4^th recurrence. Then I figured I should add the ‘warning’.) ;-)

It’s nice that people are concerned and I do greatly appreciate that they ask. But what’s up with the intense look that some seem to give? It seems like they intentionally tilt their heads so they can look me directly in the eye, like they are trying to look deep in my soul to see if I’m telling the truth! And I feel obligated to repeat that I am, indeed, doing well. No need to worry, I’m fine. And ‘poof’.  Just like that the conversation has flipped from them being concerned about me to me being concerned that they are worried about me. Sometimes the feeling is so strong that I almost feel obligated to call them later to make sure THEY are OK! lol

But hey, that’s fine. I hope they don’t stop asking …. because as long as they do, that means they care (well, in most cases)! lol 

Until next time!

~ B-Optmistic ~

Words of Wisdom ......

Make your bucket list ... and get 'er done! 

The Guest House - Poem by Jelalludin Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

A Passing Storm 
Original Painting by Brenda L Despres

As I work on a painting tonight, I am multitasking by listening to an audio book entitled, "The Joy Diet: 10 Daily Practices for a Happier Life" by Martha Beck. Don't get me wrong. I am definitely in a good place right now - both mentally and emotionally, but I always strive to find ways to keep that feeling steady.

In the first part of this book, Martha recites a poem that I find quite interesting ... and definitely worth sharing. It sanctions mood changes .... the ups and downs of everyday life ... and encourages us to accept and greet those altering personality shifts with a smile and a welcome.

Take a minute to read it for yourself .... I would love to hear your comments!

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

-- Jelaluddin Rumi,

    translation by Coleman Barks

The Guest House - Poem by Jelalludin Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

Meanwhile, I must get back to my art.

Until next time ....
~ B-Optimistic ~ :-)

My two-year anniversary since my last surgery!

Today it has been two years since my last surgery. I count my blessings each and every day that I was introduced to the doctors and surgeons that are now in my life. I know it is because of them, and the powers that be, that I am still here today.

If you are healthy, celebrate that fact. Having cancer is not only a disease, it changes your life. You just never know what is just around the corner. Know your body. Be fully aware that change is not always a good thing. And give someone a hug today. Just because you can.

Until next time ....
~ B-Optimistic ~

September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness month in Canada. Know the symptoms.
http://www.ovariancanada.org/?gclid=CKvb9-PF-sACFScV7AodI3gASg 

Photo: Hope Springs Eternal -  An original painting by Brenda L Despres

LIFE: The Memory Factor

I find it amazing how certain events that have happened during my lifetime have been etched into my memory with such force that just hearing the event mentioned takes me there immediately – all senses on high alert.  My heart still hurt whenever I would hear of another team being sent into space. Immediately I return to 1986, sitting in my car at the end of my driveway, tears rolling down my cheeks and a feeling of sadness and disbelief spreading over me. Why? Because that’s where I was when the news came on the radio announcing the explosion of the U.S. Challenger, just seconds into its flight and resulting in the death of the first female astronaut in the U.S. Space program. I will always recall the image of my co-workers in D320 hovering around a computer monitor uttering cries of disbelief as we all huddled together watching the events unfold during the terrorist attack of the World Trade Center in 2001. And me, standing inside my back door looking out in June 2002, home alone and crying my heart out, thinking that my days were numbered because I had just received a diagnosis of Ovarian Cancer an hour previously.

It’s more than 12 years later and I no longer see my diagnosis as a death sentence. I go through the entire range of emotions with each re-diagnosis, but the feelings of helplessness and fear of having cancer have faded over the years. They have been replaced with a combination of dread and anger – dread more for the surgical and recovery processes than the fact that the tumours have returned. Anger because this thing just won’t go away permanently … and probably never will. I have learned to live with my disease and I deal with each episode as it occurs, but I find that I become more frightened of the surgery itself rather than the disease and the fact that this process – not the actual cancer – could hold my fate.

But, as my oncologist and surgeon have both told me, there is absolutely every possibility that I will be around for a very long time, passing eventually from something totally unrelated to my cancer. With a strong faith in a higher power and trust in the expertise of my surgeons, that could very well be true!

Until next time ......

~ B-Optimistic ~

September is Ovarian Cancer month in Canada. Know the symptoms.

http://www.cancer.ca/en/cancer-information/cancer-type/ovarian/signs-and-symptoms/?region=on

SEPTEMBER is OVARIAN CANCER AWARENESS month in Canada!!

Educate yourself.

Know the symptoms. 

Listen to what your body is telling you. 

I will be adding several posts throughout the month in an effort to provide information 

about Ovarian Cancer and help promote awareness.

Listen to what your body is telling you!

NOTE: This poster was created by Mellissa F who, like me, also has experience with GCT - 

aka Granulosa Cell Tumour - a rare form of Ovarian Cancer.

What Does Your 'Happy Dance' Look Like?

I'm sure you've heard the term "Happy Dance" at least once in your lifetime. But have you actually personally done a Happy Dance? I have .... many times. But I've never put it on video because I'm sure my Happy Dance looks much better in my mind that it would to actually see it!! LOL

But this gal has ..... and it's fantastic. You really have to check this video out; then check out the other links as well. She was recently visiting St. John's, Newfoundland on the east coast of Canada and I discovered her when a post appeared on Facebook. Since it made me happy, I just had to share. Here are the links. Enjoy!! And then take out your favourite tunes and 'dance like no one is watching.'
Love this story!!
Watch the video first - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37QBlyPcMBQ

..... Then watch the news story on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=704577456281117&set=vb.198993970172804&type=2&theater

...... And she's got a great blog! - http://tiffanystaropoli.com/about-tiffany/


Until next time ......
~ B-Optimistic ~  :-)

P.S. I am presently healthy and happy!! I hope to do a little more Blogging soon!

What is Your 'Something'?

I ran into a friend downtown today who I haven’t seen in a while. He asked how I was doing. “Cancer hasn’t returned?” he queried.

“Nope,” I replied, “not so far. It’s been nearly a year since the last time I was diagnosed and I’m feeling pretty good.”

“Life isn’t fair,” he stated flatly, referring to the fact that I had cancer in the first place. He always says the same thing to me when we meet. It’s because he cares.

“Life’s fair,” I responded. And when he looked me in the eye as if I had lost my marbles, I continued. “Things could be so much worse than they are. I hope my cancer doesn’t come back, but I’m still alive and right now I feel good. I’m happy with that.”

“Yup,” he said. “You’re right. Things could have been a whole lot worse.”

And then we moved on to other topics. But I know we will have this same conversation the next time I see him because we have had it since I was first diagnosed more than 11 years ago.

Just prior to this conversation, another friend - who has retired and feels better now than she has in years – talked about the various ailments she had while working that have now nearly disappeared with medication and exercise. “We are all at the age where we have something wrong,” she said. “It’s just a matter of what that ‘something’ is.”

I certainly could not disagree with her!! It seems that everyone I know, both younger and older, are developing some kind of physical (or mental) issue. Fortunate (and rare) are those who reach retirement age and have had nothing serious to complain about up until this point. You know, I have told myself many times that if I was given the opportunity to choose between the cancer that I have been blessed with and some of the other illnesses that plague my friends, I would keep what I have. At least I have a reprieve between recurrences, where I feel like there is nothing wrong with my body. Some of my friends don’t get that break; and many can’t remember how it feels to not be in pain. My heart goes out to them.

But for me – at least at this point in time – life is fair. I will continue to pray that my cancer does not return. But if it does, I’ll just dig deep in my trunk for a supply of ‘get me through it’ strength and cross that bridge when I come to it.

Until next time …..

~ B-Optimistic ~

The Power of Words ......

When I was younger, I always used to wonder why my Mother kept the greeting cards that were given to her on special occasions. There were tons of them, each bunch circled by an elastic band to keep them together, collected over the years for birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, and condolences – and any other occasion befitting a message of hope, joy, or sorrow.

I am definitely my Mother’s daughter. I, too, have my bundle of cards …. well, OK, more than one. My collection is growing each year, but I don’t expect to ever reach the number of cards my mother had saved.

As I was rearranging things in my dresser drawer today in an effort to become more organized, I came across a large bundle of cards – encircled with an elastic, each containing a personal message reflective of the occasion. Against my better judgment (and my goal of getting things done), I sat down on the bed and started to read through them in hopes of whittling down the pile. A valiant effort …. but, alas, all cards will go into the new box of memories delegated just for them.

There were so many wonderful hand written notes, each one heartfelt and memorable. But there was one card in particular that caught and held my attention. The poem inside – written by Emily Matthews – was beautiful – but it was the personal sentiment expressed by my friend, Kathy C, in a card sent to me several years ago, that demanded I stop long enough to share the message with you now.

“I recently heard a minister say something which hit a note with me,” Kathy wrote. “When you are down to nothing, that is when God is up to something.”

There were many times over the past 10 years that I could have easily crawled into a fetal position and asked, “Why me”. But it is messages like this one that have kept me strong and helped me face my personal battle with cancer optimistically. Thank you, Kathy! Your words are still bringing me hope and determination after all these years.

Do you have a friend whose spirit could use a little lift? Send them a card with a handwritten message, perhaps one that they will tuck away in their memory bundle. You just never know how many years of joy that message will bring!

Until next time ……

~ BOptimistic ~

P.S. For the record, it will be four months this week since my surgery and I am very thankful that life is returning to normal and I am now able to resume many of the tasks of everyday life. :-)

ONE MONTH YESTERDAY SINCE SURGERY!!

Taken two weeks after surgery with my two favourite little people!!! It was a very happy Thanksgiving!

AN UPDATE .... WITH A PLUS!!!!

It is hard to believe that it has been a whole month yesterday since I was in Halifax having major surgery to remove a tumour from my abdomen! But then there are times when it feels like several months have passed …. I guess because I have recovered so easily and quickly this time (knock on wood).  Over the past couple of weeks I have had such good days that only the scar reminds me of what I've been through.

I started driving again on Sunday morning; a short jaunt to a local restaurant to meet five of my BFF’s from high school for a catch up breakfast. My girls …. They are so supportive. It still amazes me that we can gather around a table and continue our conversations as if we just saw each other yesterday. Our relationships are so easy. I consider myself VERY fortunate to have these gals in my life. As we get older, our conversations have drastically changed – the topic of boyfriends and dances has turned into children, grandchildren, and the pitfalls of getting older. Well, I guess things do change after 37 years, right?? LOL

But I digress. I have some wonderful news that I have been dying to share with you!! My Oncologist called today with his follow up report. And I have been floating on Cloud 9 since that conversation. Let me tell you all about it …..

During surgery, my Oncologist had discovered 3 nodules near the same area where my tumour was located. Naturally, the foregone conclusion was that these nodules were probably the start of 3 more GCT’s, so just to confirm, one was snipped and the sample sent off to the lab for testing. Since the surgery, I have been saying numerous prayers that these little guys would take their good old time growing to a size large enough to remove surgically. Although I am normally an optimistic person and deal with this disease head on, on the night before this last surgery, I experienced an all time low mentally. I wanted to run away … not go through with it at all, but that was not an option. And just this morning when I first awoke, I lay there wondering how long it would be this time before I was back under the knife again – a thought that has been on my mind fairly frequently.

Well, the news I got today has given me a something to be very gratefully for and a pardon, if you will, from these dark thoughts. Dr. Bentley tells me that the results of the testing on the nodules have come back NEGATIVE for cancer cells!!!! That’s right – NEGATIVE!!  I’m still in shock … a good shock … and feeling ecstatic because I can now push those thoughts of early recurrence to the back of my mind – at least for the time being!!

Now, that doesn't mean that the GCT he removed wasn't cancerous. It was. And I’m not naive  I know that there is a very strong possibility that I will have to face surgery again in the future. But because these little guys aren't ‘thriving’ GCT’s, I can now hope that it will be a much longer period of time before I have to go under the knife again. Dr. Bentley tells me that he considers this a very good sign. I certainly couldn't agree more!!

So that’s my story for today!! I’m feeling wonderful, still behaving myself to prevent complications, able to drive the car again, and simply enjoying the extra special care that Willie has giving me this past month. Hmmmmm …. Maybe I should drag this out just a little longer so that the TLC part of the experience doesn't have to end too soon!! hehe

Until next time …….

~ B-Optimistic ~   J

NEVER TAKE YOUR GOOD HEALTH FOR GRANTED …..

This morning as I was lying in bed, I was hoping beyond hope that the Fleet enema that was needed two nights ago was continuing to do what it needed to do, and praying that I would not be faced with another trip to hospital to have a drainage tube inserted through the nose and to the stomach. Gross, I know, but the procedure itself is normally not that bad when you are under anesthesia - or until you get an irritated throat – which I did this time. I begged them to take mine out in hospital three days after surgery. If they hadn't, I expect they would have had to sedate me or I would have gone insane.  The 'team' gave me the warning that I may get physically ill without it, but I favoured physical illness over the mental type at that particular point in time. Thankfully, nothing negative resulted from its removal, and I was left with only the throat irritation which is getting better with each day. Fortunately, I also appear to be making it over this second major hurdle as well - the only other one I've faced since my surgery on September 24^th. I will spare you all of the boring details regarding the surgery, the six days in hospital, and my complaints about too many people interrupting my hospital rest, but I will tell you that I consider myself one lucky lady to have such a wonderful and caring Oncologist and health care team!

My recovery this time has actually been faster than any of my three previous surgeries. Although the actual procedure was pretty much the same, my incision was at least 6-7 inches shorter this time and I credit this in particular with my reduction in discomfort. I have much more energy than before with little need for naps (although I make sure I lie down several times each day to give the belly a bit of a stretch) and I am getting enough exercise to keep things mobile. I even took a walk around the backyard a couple of days ago and took photos of the fall colours. Not bad for just being out of hospital for a week, huh?

But another thought crossed my mind as I was lying there this morning. When I write it down like this, it sounds like a walk in the park. But it's not. Do the people in my life realize how fortunate they really are when they can live their lives without the constant thoughts of recurrent illness and hospitalization, drugs with side effects, and recuperation from surgeries? I can only hope they do!

Naturally, I would give anything to go back to pre 2002 and start over – without cancer; to be able to only be concerned about arthritis pain, hot flashes, and other minor ailments suffered by those in my age group. But that is not to be, so I will shake it off and move forward … again … until the next recurrence.

But to my friends and family I say, “Enjoy each day to the fullest” .... because you do not know what lurks around the corner and sometimes you just can’t run fast enough.

Happy Thanksgiving!! I’m looking forward to sharing the day with family!

Until next time ….

~B-Optimistic~

THE COUNTDOWN IS NEARLY OVER ... JUST ONE MORE SLEEP …..

Well, it’s down to the wire now and I’m starting to feel the anxiety levels rise. I’ve actually done quite well over the past couple of weeks, but the thought of only one more sleep is making me a bit antsy. What I wouldn’t give right now to wake up and realize that it is all a bad dream. But it’s not …..

I’m not really sure how to describe the emotional roller coaster I’m on right now. Of course the main emotion is fear, a sensation that touches every part of my being now and even more so over the next few days. My list includes the …….

Fear that I will be up too late tonight getting ready and not get enough sleep.

Fear that I will oversleep in the morning and have to rush around to get out the door on time.

Fear that I won’t have an appetite and not be able to stop along the highway somewhere for a late breakfast or an early lunch before I am faced with the prospect of eating hospital food.

Fear that I will wind up on a 3-day diet of ice chips like last time – which made the hospital food look very appealing!

Fear that I will be late for check-in on the 5^th Floor of the VG Hospital.

Fear that something will happen to the reservations at Point Pleasant Lodge and I won’t be with Willie when he checks in to straighten it all out.

Fear that there won’t be a parking place at the back of the Lodge for Willie to park the car off of the streets of Halifax.

Fear that something will happen to the boys when they travel down tomorrow night.

Fear that my surgery, which is scheduled for 2 o’clock, will be delayed and I will have to wait even longer than planned.

Fear that Dr. Bentley will find more than he bargained for when he goes in.

Fear that I will come out of surgery with more complications than expected.

Fear that I won’t come out of surgery.

Fear that I will pick up some bug at the hospital and end up sicker than I should be.

And oh so many more fears that I could fill this page and the next ………

But I have to end the list here and go pack my bag for the journey to end the fear of forgetting something. :-) Hopefully my next post will be a bit less dismal with a lot more hopes than fears.

Until next time …..

~BOptimistic ~

ONE WEEK AND COUNTING ….

Well, the surgery date is coming quickly. But given the speed that this summer has flown past, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised! Can you believe that September is half over already? The surprising thing here on the east coast of Canada is that the leaves have just started turning to the wondrous shades of rust, orange, yellow, burgundy, and a few lingering greens over the past week or so. Normally, the fall colours start providing wonderful fodder for photos by the end of August. I’m not complaining … just hoping that I will improve quickly from surgery in time for my annual fall colour cruise somewhere in our beautiful province!! Perhaps I won’t get as far this year, but we do not have to travel great distances to enjoy the vibrant art creations of Mother Nature. I’m hoping she takes her good old time getting her brushes ready this year.

I’m starting to get a bit antsy, but more about the travel down to Halifax on Sunday morning and making sure we get there in time for check in. It will be an early morning departure, for sure since check in time is 1 o’clock and the drive is 4 ½ hours. Surprisingly, I’m looking forward to having surgery this time. Well, I’m pretty sure you know what I mean when I say that. I would definitely rather be doing something else altogether! lol But this recurrence is different – more frightening – than the other three and the thought of going through another painful episode has me totally paranoid.

There is a great deal of difference in the type of discomfort I am experiencing. The tumour is located in a higher position – just under the rib – and it is making it more difficult for me to forget that I actually have cancer … something I was almost able to do in previous recurrences. This guy is definitely making certain that I don’t forget, especially if I sit up for too long! That’s when the discomfort – and sometimes a sharp feeling – radiates around to the back, much like a muscle ache.

So, bring it on, I say. But make this last week long enough that I get all of those little things done that I have on my list!! And hopefully grab a few more of those grandkid cuddles before the weekend. ;-)

Until next time …..

~ B-Optimistic ~

TWO WEEKS … THE COUNTDOWN IS ON

Well, the countdown is on. I got THE call from Halifax this afternoon and I am scheduled for surgery at 2 o’clock on Monday, September 24^th. I’m very grateful to my Oncologist for working things out so that I don’t have to make two trips to Halifax and instead will check into my ‘suite’ at the VG on Sunday afternoon and have all of the pre-op tests done that day. Feeling as I am, it would have been a very rough journey to undertake twice!

So now the planning begins. The reservations are made at the Lodge for Willie and the boys, who are coming along for moral support.  I’ve booked a whole week for Willie’s stay since that seems to be the usual length of time that I remain in hospital, but hopefully it will be a speedier recovery this time. I sure wish I was booking a room for that vacation we planned on taking this fall instead ….. But, it is what it is. Maybe we'll still get a couple of nights away somewhere once these hurricanes have passed. :-)

Am I nervous? As long as I don’t REALLY think about it, I am OK. I expect that I will be scared out of my britches by the time Friday before surgery rolls around, so I’ll enjoy this naivety while I can. But having trust in my Oncologist/Surgeon makes all the difference in the world with regard to my mental state and he has a wonderful team close at hand to take care of any little surprises that might arise. So I guess it’s all good.

Meanwhile, keep those prayers and positive vibes coming my way! I’ve got to go make a list of priorities!!

Until next time …..

~B-Optimistic~

MY ONCOLOGIST’S CONSULTATION IS COMPLETE

It was a VERY long day yesterday. We left home around 7:30 a.m. for the 4 ½ drive to Halifax. With my appointment at 2 o’clock, unknown construction delays, and a planned stop at Murphy’s Fish & Chips for lunch, we did not want to be rushed. We got lost once just as we arrived in Halifax when I tried to use my tablet as a guide. Yup, it is just like reading a map and I guess my record for that one goes untarnished – still not my forte. lol So out came the GPS and she guided us through the maze of streets and traffic to our destination – a full ½ hour before the appointment.

I was hurting by the time we got there and had a very difficult time standing up straight when I walked the long distance from the car to the Oncologist’s office. The pain from sitting and being jostled by the constant dodging of potholes had taken its toll. But one thing is for certain …  being in agony during my examination easily communicated to the Oncologist that my pain rating of 8 out of 10 wasn’t exaggerated. And, if I had been fine, I probably would not have pushed my desire to have a quick surgery date as effectively. After all, who wants to have surgery when they are feeling great??

The actual consultation was a good and positive one. There were no surprises; there is only one tumour and he says it is ripe for picking! He is confident going in that it will be no worse than in the past. And he was very pleased that this recurrence is more than four years out, compared with the last one that occurred within one year.

His warnings regarding the actual surgery are all the same – the tumour could be brushing up against the stomach and/or the small or large bowel, a fact that could result in the scraping or removal of part of the affected area to prevent future problems. He was pleased that we have been fortunate in the past not to have to remove any portion of the bowel, so he has lots to work with if a resection is required. Fingers crossed that this won’t be needed.

I had joked four years ago about installing a zipper to make future surgeries easier. He took me seriously, saying that he didn’t think it would work well in my situation. Say what? They really do that, I said? Apparently they do. So this time, he remembered what I had said and joked about ‘our zipper technique’. Love this guy!

But with all the talk of the things that could happen during surgery, when the discussion came around to post surgery I once again reminded him that I am still anti-chemo. Well, here’s where the angels sang, lightning flashed, and I swear I heard a brass band strike a tune in the hallway – he actually bowed his head and then admitted that he has to now agree with my views on chemo. Wow! Another “Say What?” moment. After seven years of having to reiterate my anti-chemo thoughts, it is wonderful that he has finally come around to my side, and of his own accord. He has always agreed with my argument that there is no evidence chemo would work for me, but he always said I should consider that it might be necessary. This is the first time that he has come right out and said that that he backs me up. What a relief ….. And what a large smile I must have been sporting at that point in time.

Now don’t get me wrong. Chemo might be right for some people and help for certain cancers, but not for GCT. There is no proof that it works for those of us with this disease, but there is plenty of evidence that it causes other very serious complications, including irreparable nerve and organ damage. Since I return to a healthy status in between surgeries, I am pleased that I will continue to be able to forego treatment and continue to do that.

The consultation was an hour long. The drive home was so much longer! I was stress free mentally. However, the stress on my body was more horrendous than I realized. When I got in the house, I could barely walk up the two flights of stairs to my bedroom. And, when I finally made it, I was shivering uncontrollably, probably on the verge of exhaustion. It’s amazing how your body can hold up as long as it has to. I crashed. I was shaking and freezing and with a lot of effort on my part, got changed into my night clothes and immediately - and with much effort - crawled under the covers to get warm. I didn’t even have the energy to open my eyes when Willie came up to check on me. I was asleep within minutes. Two hours later I awoke feeling halfway human again.

Today, after a wonderful sleep - I swear I never moved a muscle all night long – I find that the pain in my side has improved a great deal. I won’t be doing anything crazy (like housework lol), but at least I can move about without holding my side and moaning loudly with pain. Fingers crossed that things continue to improve as the days go on. J

So, as it stands, I should get a call with my surgery date sometime in the near future. However, if I have another painful incident like I had this past Sunday – which is caused, he suspects, by the tumour bleeding into itself - I am to make my way to the nearest ER and have them call my Oncologist to arrange a transfer to Halifax, if necessary. I will be praying that this action will not be required … I’m willing to wait a few weeks!!

Until next time ……

~B-Optimistic ~