And I have more to say then I did in my last post. I'm sorry (and also not sorry) for that. I'm trying to apologize less. In a good way! Just apply a little less pressure on myself and do what feels right. I needed a little break to unwind after treatment #3 and the holidays, but now I am forewarning you (yet again), that this is a massively long post! If you're down for making that commitment, grab a tea and settle in.
Chemo number 3 has treated me really, really well. It has been the easiest one to endure by far. I have a few theories on this...
1) I prepared like CRAZY this time. I made no plans the day before, I went for a delicious brunch the morning of, and I made sure I did not go into this appointment tired.
2) I draped myself in every single "good luck" charm, necklace, cross, article of clothing and pendant that has been given to me throughout this entire journey. Although I must have looked a bit ridiculous, I didn't care.
3) Throughout my treatment this time, I spent a lot of time focusing on healing. I'm not completely sure if this works, but heck - why not try. I closed my eyes and focused on my tumour growing smaller. I repeated to myself, over and over and over: 6 cm. It will be six centimeters.
I was feeling off for about a week, but this time, the day after I was able to get up and walk to the coffee shop with my mom. I didn't sleep much, and I was a little out of it, but I also wasn't sick so that is a win to me. It's like being in a haze. Last Tuesday I woke up, and it is really out of nowhere... the haze is lifted. Since then, I'm just taking advantage of feeling good until I go in for my next treatment. Here's a few highlights:
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Squeezing in time together before work. Brunch is our specialty. I also got quite a few laughs out of my new trending hashtag: #lumberjeff
Birthday dinner for Jeff's dad at the Keg
Day after chemo and I am up and walking! And eating snacks.
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Chemo groceries.
So here's the real reason I deleted my last post. I have a really hard time talking about the "red" chemo drug they give me (also called epirubicin). When I got to the point in my last post where I started talking about my chemo, I erased the entire post. That's how bad it was. It's not that it makes me feel nauseous while it's being administered, but when I was sick the second round, all that came up was... red. Sorry for that graphic. Now, when it comes to thinking or talking of chemo, I absolutely cringe. Almost 2 weeks later, I still have a hard time with it. It was hard to sit there, seeing it dripping into me, so while the red drug was being administered, I focused on healing instead.
Epirubicin. My enemy. (Note: I found this picture on the internet but wanted you to have a cringeworthy visual).
Healing has been the theme of chemo #3. I have had so many people tell me what they think will heal me. I've read all the stories: the man who juiced his cancer away, the power of water, the power of various spices, what you should and shouldn't eat.
My mom told me a story that I originally didn't think much of, but ended up being the one that stuck with me the most. She had a woman come into the restaurant that told her that she too was fighting breast cancer. She told my mom that she repeatedly thanked her breasts and kissed them - that's how grateful she was to them. She was grateful her cancer was found in her breasts, where she was able to feel it, catch it and notice it before it was too late. I immaturely laughed at the visual of kissing your boobs. But, I have thought a lot about this story since then.
I have met quite a few people so far that have told me they didn't catch their cancer until it was too late. A lot of times, with cancer in other parts of the body, there are no real side effects until it gets too far. My cancer doesn't hurt me, but the lump I found was more then noticeable. This allowed me to seek out all the necessary treatments and now I have a really positive diagnosis. For others I've met, they aren't as lucky. So, I've decided I'm choosing to be grateful for my cancer: I'm grateful it was detected early, I'm grateful we have drugs that allow me to live a somewhat normal life during my treatments, I'm grateful for my body and it's ability to tell me that something was wrong.
I'm talking about this story now, because it's helped me get through a very real side of getting diagnosed that I haven't spoken about yet on my blog. That is the total paralyzing fear that comes with cancer.
I have received so many e-mails and messages at this point applauding me for my positive attitude and it's true: cancer isn't my life. I am so much more then my cancer. I still do normal things. But, I'd be lying to you if sometimes at 3AM I didn't have a good cry that came out of a place of total fear.
When I found out I had cancer, I immediately thought: Am I going to die?
I think this is a pretty common reaction. And, sometimes, it can't help but creep into your thoughts. Will this be the thing that kills me in the end? Even when this is all over, am I going to wake up every day and think, is today the day the cancer comes back? This time, will my prognosis not be as positive?
I spend a lot of time alone (secretly, I love it! So much time to read and craft and colour!). Recently, I've spent a whole lot of this time thinking and reflecting: on my work, my relationships, my life as a whole. Recently, I can't stop thinking: Who else gets a wonderful opportunity like this at the age of 24 to take a year off and really prepare to have a truly fresh start?
I have obviously contemplated the question of "Why me?" as in: Why did I have to get cancer? I'm pretty healthy. Why me? But more recently, I can't stop thinking: Why do I get to have this fresh start? I get to make changes to my life I would never have had the opportunity to make in my old life.
I'm going to be honest with you and myself. I wasn't taking my life in a good direction before this past November. I was working 65 hours a week. And, trust me, this is not Chapters standard. At my last job, working for the salon, I worked similar hours. At first I thought it was the job, and when it happened again at Chapters I realized... it was me. And, I didn't really see it as a problem. Everyone was concerned about me: I was voluntarily working 9PM-9AM for a full month (no, not the other way around: overnights!). No one was asking me to work these hours, and in fact, one time my boss actually told me: Sam, there is no pride in working these hours. You don't need to do this to impress anyone.
Truth is, I wasn't doing it for a promotion. I don't even think I was doing it out of desire for perfection. I just truly love working. I get really, really invested in my jobs and I'm really passionate about business, growing people and creating dynamic teams, figuring out how to make things work efficiently. I'm lucky I get to do something I'm really passionate about every day. In fact, when they ask me to think of my "happy place" before I go for particularly stressful procedures at the hospital, I close my eyes and put together book tables and displays in my head. Some may find that sad, but I find it really relaxing and I consider myself really lucky.
But, my life was NOT a full, well rounded life. All of the above sounds great, but here was the reality: I ate Starbucks for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I was working 5:30-4:30PM most regular days. My health suffered because of this and so did my bank account. I was ALWAYS exhausted... like so exhausted, I would have nervous breakdowns. It got to the point where those extra hours I was working weren't productive: I was too tired to be productive. My relationships suffered: when I wasn't working, I was responding to e-mails, calling my work to check in, talking about my work. I wasn't really "present". Jeff suffered most from this, naturally. I could count some days where I did not drink ANY water: my skin suffered so badly for this. I was breaking out like crazy. I was gaining weight, and ultimately, I wasn't actually very happy.
In retrospect, I think I was on the fast track to becoming a workaholic. And I got mad when anyone told me that: I thought they weren't supportive, and that's how business "is".
I see now how that was not sustainable. I would not have been able to work like that forever, but I wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. I worked so hard I let my health card expire, and I let my then (very small) tumour go unchecked for months. We all know how the rest of the story goes.
When I was talking to the Ottawa Sun, they asked me what my hobbies were: what did I like to do? I was like uh, well. I like to work? That's generally when I knew something was wrong.
I have a point to this, I promise I will tie it all together! Since I've gotten sick, I've had a couple huge eye openers.
Hobbies are fun. I thought to myself once, a few months ago, on a day off: what do people even do when they aren't working? Well.. they scrapbook, they learn a new craft, they take enjoyment in cooking and taking care of their bodies, they excercise, they spend time with their boyfriends and watch movies and read books. A whole big life out there I have been missing out on!
When I think to myself: Am I going to die? I try to counteract it with, I could die in a bus accident tomorrow. I could fall off my balcony. There is always the risk of dying, cancer or not, and the truth is: If I am going to die, what do I want to do before that time comes? (Side note: I'm obviously not going to die anytime soon, duh. I need to go to Disney World atleast 6 more times before then. But, you get what I'm saying).
In this article, a nurse writes down the top 5 regrets that she heard most commonly from the dying. What was among them? "I wish I hadn't worked so hard". Dying has become a reality to me. If I died tomorrow, do I really want it to be following a 65 hour work week with bad skin and having eaten a Starbucks roasted ham breakfast sandwich as my last supper? (I mean they're good, but they're not THAT good).
So, I'm pretty grateful for my cancer. I'm grateful that I found it early, that it's given me a chance to re-evaluate my life and stopped me before things really spiraled out of control. It sounds lame to say "everything happens for a reason" but I think it's true. It's made Jeff and I's relationship so strong, and I have spent more time with my family then I have in years. I learned to weave and I've set my goal on Goodreads to read 40 books this year. I also realized I really like writing this blog!
When I realized how much I liked writing this blog, I actually started researching passion projects. I want to make sure that when I do go back to work, I am able to find a better work/life balance. I need to make a commitment and habit that I can not break, something I can be as equally as passionate about as I am with my work. A passion project is something outside of your work you do that is something you love: some people decide to volunteer, others just put aside an hour or two to paint, write, or read. Some people take on bigger projects: starting a blog, a book club, etc. It can look a lot like a side business, or turn into one, but in the beginning it should be something that you want to do: not something you need to do. It's fulfilling our inner desires to create and have something to show for our time. It's also a great way to make friends too (a topic I have spoken about with many people now: after high school, how in the heck do you make friends outside of work?!)
I've made a list of a few bigger projects I want to start. With the growing audience made up of you guys - lovely readers of my blog - I've found it really exciting that I can reach so many people while sitting in my living room. I love sharing, writing, and communicating with like minded people. I still can't get over how many cool and interesting people this blogging experience has allowed me to "meet" (e-mail and message with mostly!) so far.
What my days look like.
Naturally, my first instinct was to start a book club. I'm not sure if it would be a club where we actually meet, or something we could do online. I just know I love books, and spend a lot of my time researching what book to read next (as well as keeping informed on what books are up and coming, I can thank my job for this). Secondly, I was thinking of how nice it would be to have something to DO in the evenings that could include my friends and family. Then I started thinking how it would be awesome to have some sort of craft club. I know that I would love to learn to crochet, knit, embroider... I would love to learn to make terrariums, perfumes, and indulge in all of my other DIY projects on Pinterest that I just can't seem to find the time to complete. I feel like this would be a fun way to get everyone I love together, and learn a new skill at the same time.
How I spend my time: colour coding my bookshelves (amongst other things)
Would you be interested in doing something like this with me? Am I crazy? Do you have any ideas for passion projects - or do you have one for yourself? Do you find that it helps you lead a richer life? Comment below or let me know here :)
Now, I wanted to take the time to share where the inspiration for this above post came from. I had lunch with one of my friends, Lindsay, this week. To fully understand the impact of what she has done for me, you need the back story:
Lindsay and I worked as co-managers (she worked managing a salon in Orleans, mine Bayshore). We've kept in touch since we both left the salon (she works for Nordstrom now! So exciting). We bonded over hair care and she is easily one of the funniest and nicest people you could meet. You can't help but be a little bit jealous of Lindsay: nice, smart, and drop dead gorgeous. On top of all of this, what I could never get over is her HAIR. Lindsay has THE nicest hair I have ever seen. She could sell a hair product just by saying "This is what I'm using" and people were sold. It is long, brunette, shiny, strong, healthy, and holds any and all hairstyles: curly, straight, you name it.
My best friend jokes with me all the time how my wig is actually nicer and thicker then my own hair, and part of me is excited to see how it will look when it grows out (after having platinum hair, no matter what I used, my hair was so brittle. Shaving it is like another fresh start for me!)
So, I have major hair envy of Lindsay. In the beginning, I texted her and told her my diagnosis and said: "I can only hope my hair grows back more beautiful then yours".
When I got in the car with her this past Saturday, I saw her and the FIRST thing I looked at was her hair: It was in a ponytail and it was SHORT! I immediately thought: Lindsay got on the "Lob" (long bob) train all the celebrities are doing. She looked at me and said, "Well, because you noticed right away...."and gave me this:
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As we hung out in the afternoon, she told me the story of her fundraiser she held for me over Christmas.
Lindsay and her friends from her graduating class (about 50) always get together for a potluck. Lindsay messaged everyone in advance, saying she was doing a fundraiser and in turn, she would be cutting off her hair to donate. She told me she was sort of uncomfortable at first about asking her friends for money right around Christmas, and she wasn't sure how it would turn out. She set her goal at $1000. She figured if everyone donated 5-10 dollars that it would be a good start. She started getting messages from friends saying they were sending her $100. When she held the party, she started to notice many of her friends selflessly putting in $20 into her box. Someone came over to her and said: Lindsay, I think you're going to be close to your goal after tonight. One thing she told me that stuck was that "the act of giving was contagious. Once they saw others doing it, everyone was so willing to make a donation". I find this is totally true and we've seen it on grand scales (ALS Ice bucket challenge, etc). It makes you feel good and like you're a part of something bigger then just yourself.
Is it possible she's MORE beautiful with short hair? 11 inches chopped and ready to be donated! Funny story: Lindsay brought the hair with her to our lunch date so I could play with it before we donated it. She seriously knows me so well: this was my dream come true. Creepy? Maybe...
She raised $600 in one night. After that, she shared her story with family and they made up the difference very quickly. Even after she had made her goal, she had a friend donate $50: making the grand total $1050. (I also have to mention Lindsay also sold her ENTIRE OPI nail polish collection on Kijiji and included that in her donation as well. Let's just say at one point in our salon lives we were huge nail polish junkies so I was very touched by this!)
When she gave me the envelope, part of me wanted to cry, but I was too happy. I was also completely shocked: when Lindsay messaged me saying she wanted to "show" me something, I thought I was going to get a little sneak peek of the insides of the new Nordstrom or something. I wasn't expecting this at all. Being overwhelmed also cued an immediate hot flash and we drove to lunch with our windows down (thanks for being a good sport in the -30 degree weather Linds..ha).
I will likely never get to meet or thank everyone that helped support Lindsay and myself, but if you're reading this: Thank you. You are a fantastic person. I am so grateful for you!
Working retail together and coming from similar backgrounds, I feel like Lindsay and I relate well to each other. She listened to me rant on about my work and we shared stories of what we were doing now. It was during that conversation, talking it all out, that I realized most of the above: I mean, I knew my working habits were unsual, but it wasn't until that moment, saying it all out loud, I realized I may have a problem.
So.. Lindsay helped me out in more ways then she may have expected: taking a year off sounds good on paper, but sometimes, it can be frustrating. When I confided about how awkward I felt accepting donations from others, we talked a lot about paying it forward and how the way I affected and treated those in my pre-cancer life is what has brought all of this overwhelming support. She made me feel like I still have value, even though some days I'm stuck sitting on my couch. We talked quite a bit about my diagnosis (sometimes I can't help it), and she made me feel like I had the power to say "no" to situations I didn't want to be a part of and that there was more to my life then just working. I'm seriously lucky and blessed with some pretty amazing friends. When Lindsay is rich and famous, this is me publicly saying: I was friends with her first!
Okay, time to wrap up. I go for my next treatment on February 3rd (time is flying), and my oncologist appointment is this upcoming Thursday to discuss how I am "doing" in regards to me chemo. I still have a lot to say about genetics, fertility, health and diet... but this post has gone on long enough! We'll save that for next time. ;)
Last but not least, the happiest part of my past weekend. Sporadic jam session at the bagel shop by my apartment. Now I'm obsessed with traditional folk music: doesn't it just make you smile?! (I also want to marry the man with the dreadlocks. Don't worry, I told Jeff this already. Maybe we can pull a Sister Wives or something? ... KIDDING).
xx
Sam
