I Guess I Really Am a Cancer Patient... (Post #19)

 

I’ve been fighting the doldrums for the past couple of days. 😕 On Tuesday, while on the way to my post-op appointment with my surgeon, Dr. Olson, I received a call from the Cross Cancer Institute (hereafter referred to as the Cross) informing me that I would see my oncologist, Dr. Smiley, on Tuesday, August 16th. (How fitting that Dr. Smiley is this Pollyanna’s doctor. 😁) Despite having told countless people about my cancer diagnosis, blogging about it for 3.5 months, and having had 3 surgeries, I've realized that I have felt more like a “surgical patient” rather than a “cancer patient.” I guess that’s what happens when things go sideways post-op. I’ve been so distracted by my recovery that I haven’t spared much thought or energy for what’s ahead in terms of the next steps. So…if I have an appointment at the Cross, I guess I really am a cancer patient. Wow. That’s really a bummer. 😔

My post-op appointment with my surgeon went well, despite his insistence that he now possesses 12 more grey hair than prior to my surgery, and almost lost his mind on the actual day. However, he is very pleased with my healing and the overall outcome, and so am I. I’ll spare you the details, 😉 but suffice to say that not only is Dr. Olson a fantastic surgeon, but he’s somewhat of a magician/artist as well. He did mention that he never wants to see us again, and we assured him that the feeling was mutual, but I left him with two large containers of brownies, so our parting was amicable. (If you've tasted my brownies you know that all is well. 😋)

So now that our focus has shifted from surgical recovery to preparing for chemo, I vacillate between wanting to know absolutely everything and imitating an ostrich. I think I may even have given myself whiplash, I change my mind so quickly. Reading other patients’ accounts of their adverse reactions to chemo is not helpful at this time as I’m not even sure what my treatment will entail, yet I don’t want to be a complete Pollyanna, believing that I’ll sail through it all without complications. Something about an inability to accomplish things the easy way? 😏 I’m compiling a list of questions for Dr. Smiley, (Please pray for him - he’ll need it!) and in doing so, realized just how well I’ve suppressed this part of my journey. So I had a biopsy which resulted in a hematoma that delayed my surgery during which I crumped and ended up in ICU? No problem. Now I need chemo which may result in dry, flakey skin, weird fingernails, and my hair falling out? Nuh-uh. Not going there. Not thinking about it…okay, actually probably thinking about it too much, but whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. 😬

I think I may need this shirt...😊

Another way I’ve been dealing with this whole cancer journey is by taking “virtual holidays” via Instagram. At the beginning of the pandemic, I began following people in the UK. Being a total Anglophile who needs to visit the UK occasionally for my mental health, I was not impressed with the idea that I would not have the opportunity to continually accidentally walk against the flow of traffic, narrowly miss getting hit by a bus due to a failure to “Look right,” (true story, our tour guide hauled me back by my coat) and, of course, drool over the huge selection of Cadbury chocolate not easily found at home. 😊 However, as the months ticked by, I noticed that a lot of their posts centered around alcohol consumption. After receiving my cancer diagnosis, I’ve had to answer the question of my own alcohol consumption too many times to count. Imagine my surprise when I came across the following news story, warning of the link between even moderate alcohol consumption and a 30-50% increased risk of breast cancer. Here’s that article: Alcohol should have cancer warning labels, say doctors and researchers pushing to raise awareness of risk | CBC News  And in case you prefer to watch your news, here’s a link to the video: Alcohol can cause cancer, so why don't most Canadians know that? | CBC.ca

Now, obviously as a teetotaler, this doesn’t exactly rock my world. However, should a study come out stating that Starbucks coffee or McDonald’s french fries cause cancer, then I might be in trouble. Oh…wait, Scientists Warn, Again: French Fries May Increase Risk of Cancer 😬 The reality is that cancer can be linked to so many different factors that to pin it on one particular activity is disingenuous. Obviously smoking and working in certain unhealthy chemical environments will increase your cancer risks, but to analyze every morsel that passes your lips for its cancer risk is not only time-consuming but pathological. I was just surprised at how much the consumption of alcohol increased a person’s risk and felt that it was my duty to pass on the information. 😊

So, how is a person supposed to process “bad stuff?” 🤔 As a Christian, I feel privileged to be able to share my difficulties with God; I can’t imagine only relying on my own strength. But what does healthy processing actually look like, other than praying and finding comfort in the Bible? I must admit to struggling a bit with what it means to deal with all these emotions and information “correctly.” (Yes, I know I’m a total keener patient.) Honestly, what I have found to be most cathartic is writing. Yes, these blogs have often been the means by which I organize my thoughts, and let me tell you, the finished product is usually very, very different from the initial draft. 🤭 I’ve also begun journaling more during my devotional time, and then, of course, I indulge in music therapy. (Amazing song “I Have This Hope” is linked below.) But I’m thinking it may be time to actually speak with a professional again. They have the skills and experience to teach even ostriches with Pollyanna tendencies better coping skills.

So here’s what I do know: The same God who parted the Red Sea for the Israelites, caused the widow’s supply of oil and flour to never end, and raised multiple people from the dead hasn’t changed. I know it in my head, I feel it in my heart, and my soul warms when I recall how He carried me during the darkest hours of my hospital stay. 🥰 So whatever happens moving forward, He’s got this, bald head, flakey skin and all. My hope is safe in Him.

I Have This Hope

As I walk this great unknown

Questions come and questions go

Was there purpose for the pain?

Did I cry these tears in vain?

I don't want to live in fear

I want to trust that You are near

Trust Your grace can be seen

In both triumph and tragedy

But sometimes my faith feels thin

Like the night will never end

Will You catch every tear

Or will You just leave me here?

But I have this hope

In the depth of my soul

In the flood or the fire

You're with me and You won't let go

So, whatever happens I will not be afraid

Cause You are closer than this breath that I take

You calm the storm when I hear You call my name

I still believe that one day I'll see Your face

I have this hope

In the depth of my soul

In the flood or the fire

You're with me and You won't let go