The Beginning Of the End!

1-2-3: Support in ways of Kleenex and Flowers... :) 4: Took myself out on a Starbucks date at 9:30PM on Friday. Jeff was closing and I could only think about how much time I'll be spending in my bed next week so I figured...why not. When she asked me if I wanted whip, this time I said HELL yes (not actually though).

This week I had my last Lupron shot. This was the first time I was able to do something for the last time!

Do you know what that means?

IN ONE MONTH THE HOT FLASHES WILL BE GONE.

Next thing I know, it will be Tuesday: MY LAST TREATMENT. For real though...this is not a drill!!

TUESDAY I WILL HAVE MY LAST CHEMO TREATMENT.

MY LAST DAY OF CHEMO WILL BE TUESDAY.

I HATE SAYING THE WORD CHEMO AND I'M SO HAPPY THIS WILL BE THE LAST TIME I HAVE TO SAY I AM DOING IT. 

GAH.

Okay, I'm done. That's how I feel about it though. 5 rounds done, 1 to go. This time, I don't even care. Throw whatever side effects you want at me. I can handle anything at this point.

I met with my oncologist today. For the first time, I was by myself. I felt brave. I always go into my appointments with Jeff and my mom. This is pretty helpful because sometimes the information they give you can be overwhelming. I need my note-takers. Jeff is the analytical one, if you can't tell. I'm a bit more artsy-fartsy and sometimes.... un-organized.

Today I had Crystal and Payton (Jeff's sister and niece... my hospital buddies!) to accompany me in the waiting room. Payton impressed me and kept me entertained with her best rendition of "Sugar" by Maroon5 (she is 2). She more then impressed my fellow cancer patients as she played on an app that turns your voice into a high pitched mouse sound. She had her baby headphones on and did that hilarious thing where you yell so loud because you can't gauge how loud the music in your ears is. She was bringing such joy and laughter to everyone sitting and waiting (probably anxiously) to hear how they are bearing their treatments. You could see how happy she made them and it was such a light in what can sometimes be a very dark place. Those hallways have seen too many of my tears! Crystal made me laugh by telling me Payton has named one of her boy dolls "Don". We wonder where she even learned the name "Don", much less decided to call one of her dolls by the name. I laughed so hard. I looked forward to getting a Timmies and sitting and chatting with Crystal before I went for my appointment all day yesterday. I love when we go to appointments together.

So, I go in to meet my oncologist and we get right down to business. He asks me how I fared with my last treatment, I say A-OK. Not nearly as much stomach pain, tons of sleeping, sore body (surprisingly they don't take "I feel like I got in a car accident" as an acceptable way to explain how much pain I was in. They prefer the 1-10 scale instead). I showed him my nails (which are pretty cool despite how they are peeling and slowly deteriorating...they have little white lines etched into them, one for each of my chemo treatments. You can literally see where they stopped and started growing again after each one). I asked him about the bloating and the weight gain and the sore neck that doesn't seem to want to go away. I asked him about my sparse eyelashes and eyebrows. I wanted him to give me a drug, vitamin or ingredient to help make them grow stronger and longer. I wanted him to perform magic and pull a bunny out of a hat and make it all disappear. He did tell me what it was going to take to make all of my above symptoms go away: patience and time.

It takes one month for the chemo to leave your system. This means on April 17th 2015 I will be eating a smoked salmon bagel and drinking an extra spicy caesar for breakfast. It takes about two months to feel "normal" again (in most cases). In two months you can expect to see hair growth, fatigue lifting, and your body slowly fighting to go back to normal. By May 17th 2015, I should be sporting a super cute crew cut.

Appetizing chemo diet....

Just kidding. In between my treatments I've actually been having some delicious food! ;)

Somewhere in between there I will be going for my surgery. I received a call today from my surgeon to schedule an appointment to see her. I will have way more details on when/what that will entail after this appointment, so until then... I'm not going to say much. I'm not certain what she's going to recommend. Ultimately, it will be my choice but her influence will play heavily into my decision. I DO know, from meeting with my oncologist today, that I should be going in for surgery mid-April. I thought it would be nearing the end of April, so I officially only have one more month before I mourn the loss of a body part. It feels a bit strange.

He measured my tumor at about 5cm. This is okay! Although it measured about 5cm across, we both agreed it felt different. It is taking up less space. The depth has likely shrunk... this is something we won't be able to measure until I go for surgery, but it is a good thing. The more the cancer shrinks, the less chance they leave anything behind after the surgery, the less chance of relapsing.

I don't feel anxious anymore. I'm feeling stoked. I'm feeling like I can see the light here. I listen to my body and have applied less pressure on myself to be so active. A few days this week I slept in until 2PM. I haven't done this since I was in high school. But... I am just so tired. So, I let myself sleep in. It felt so good.

I have two feel good stories to accompany my post today!

1) My beautiful, amazing sister has hair that grows like a weed (why did this skip my genes?). This week we went for lunch together and this is how our conversation went:

Me: LIANNE... NEVER CUT YOUR HAIR! It is sooo beautiful. You should grow it down to your bum. Never cut it. 

Lianne: I don't know. Maybe you're right. I'll just trim off the split ends or something.

8 hours later:

What a schemer.

She's going to be participating in Hair Donation Ottawa's 5th Annual Fundraising Event. Her hair will be made into a wig for a company called 360-Hair; they make free wigs for young adults with cancer. All proceeds will go towards research specifically geared towards cancer found in young adults! You can donate to Lianne here.

 2) I put some money down to get a second wig last week. I have been humming and hah-ing over this for quite some time. I wanted to play around with something a little bit longer. I wanted to be able to switch up my appearance. I was getting bored with the same look every day (the original wig I got was synthetic, if you remember! It means it can't be styled). I was having such a hard time justifying the money. So, when my mom sent me a message saying one of her friends had reached out to her and said she had "wigs" (with a plural!! That meant more then one!) that were blonde and she wanted me to have, I was so ecstatic! I just picked them up the other day. They are absolutely beautiful, well cared for, and so my style. I couldn't even wait to get home. I whipped off my hat and put one on right away. I also took a selfie. I was pretty excited...

I am now the owner of three new wigs: a short blonde bob, a longer wig with bangs (flashback to 6 years ago!!), and a beautiful and natural looking human hair wig. It was better then getting a new purse or a new dog*. I'm being serious though, it was such a kind and genuine gesture and something I won't be able to say enough "thank you's" for. It really made me feel more "myself" at a time when I couldn't look or feel less like myself.

* Which is a whole other story. I almost conned Jeff into letting me get a dog last month. It was my dream puppy: a little Yorkie. The day I was diagnosed, while I was crying, I looked up at Jeff with big sad eyes and said..."So...does this mean I can finally get a dog? To keep me company while I'm home... all alone?". He said YES that day and I will not let him forget it! Side note: our apartment won't even allow us to have a dog...

 

It's okay though because how cute are these faces. We were enjoying the Spring weather we were having for all of one day this week. Then it started to hail and freezing rain... remember I said in my last post... this ALWAYS HAPPENS. 

Okay... now for the serious bit of the post that you may have assumed was coming (are my blog posts becoming predictable now or what?)

I spent my evening tonight reading breast cancer blogs (my new favorite past-time, apparently). On March 6th, a woman named Lisa Adams passed away after 9 years of battling breast cancer (on and off). In 2012, she learned it had metastasized to her bones, followed by her liver and lymphnodes. She wrote a wonderful blog. She did not spare us any details. You will cry at her poems and her honesty. She had about 4000 people subscribed to her Facebook, which she updated frequently, and 15 000 followers on twitter. Every single morning she tweeted the same thing.

She wrote her last blog post on March 1st, only five days before she passed. On March 5th, she updated her Facebook status to say:

Things are quite quite serious. Please do not text or email daily. I can't answer.

 Doesn't that make your stomach drop?

You see the progression in her posts. Slowly, it becomes less about being a warrior and fighting for another day and more about managing her pain. There have been multiple articles written about Lisa since she lost her battle to cancer. It's brought up the topic: is blogging and tweeting about cancer a good idea?

Lisa had lots of criticism for posting so openly and freely about her diagnosis. Some feel like she should have spent that time living her life, spending time with her kids. Some feel like it opens you up to criticism... as in, you're asking for it by posting on the internet. The internet isn't like a support group, there is no facilitator to make sure things don't get ugly.

Sometimes Lisa would tweet upwards of 100 times per day. She admitted it made her feel less alone. She felt as if she was showing us what living with metastatic breast cancer was truly like. There have been articles about whether or not this is TMI. People are freely admitting it was like watching a TLC TV show unfold. They became addicted to following Lisa. Only... this is someone's real life. This isn't scripted. One day she was tweeting and the next... she was gone.

I'm a big reader. I have read lots of books by authors whom have passed away. Yet... reading Lisa felt so raw and real. I was reading words that were published only weeks (days!) ago, by a woman that was very much alive. How can she be gone? She was just able to post to her blog! I felt cheated, and then I felt sad, and then I felt dread. It can happen just like that. 

There was an article published in the NY Times stating that Lisa was given too much hope. That the hospitals should not be giving someone with her prognosis that kind of hope, how we aren't allowing people to die peacefully. Most of our healthcare spending happens in the last 6 months of a person's life. She was fighting a fight she couldn't have won, despite the treatments she was enduring. She ended her last days in pain.

I think Lisa accomplished what she set out to do. She garnered the attention of high profile media, she made her point clear and she raised over $175, 000 for her hospital. She raised important issues, and asked important questions (such as, why does Run For the Cure not feature or support women with stage IV metastatic breast cancer?).

A journalist named Xeni Jardin decided to go for a mammogram when she found out two of her friends had been diagnosed with breast cancer. She figured she would make use of her twitter following and use the hashtag #myfirstmammo to remind her followers how important it was to get checked. She live tweeted her experience (which started out quite hilariously):

Making jokes helped her get through what was a nervewracking first experience (as I imagine it can be for most women). What she didn't imagine she'd have to live-tweet out to her followers were the shocking results of her mammogram:

 How we are able to follow along with others in real time: learning their prognosis the moment they receive it and in Lisa's case, reading her final words just hours before she passes. I'm still not sure if I feel like I've invaded their privacy or if I feel lucky enough to be able to have been that close to someone I've never even met.

Surprisingly, I have received some questionable e-mails and comments due to things I have posted on my blog. I guess it's why this particular topic interested me so much. In reality, everyone has an opinion and not everyone is going to agree on your personal decisions. But that's the thing: it's our bodies. It's my blog. Lisa (and I, and any of you) can write and express what you want to. In the end, what you read is really your choice.

I remember once I said I wasn't going to write a cancer blog. How that was so not me. Somehow having cancer has given me a sense of purpose, though. Talking through it has made this process much easier. I understand Lisa's need to post her updates. It makes it public and makes it seem real. It helps you work out how you truly feel. I'm not sure how it will all add up, but it feels like every day things become a little more clear to me. The more cancer takes from me.. my eyebrows, my nails, my body, my hair... the less I look like myself, the more I feel like I'm learning who I really am (so cheeeeesy). When you don't have all of that to hide behind, you feel naked and stripped down. All that's left is you and your brain and your thoughts and your hobbies and your passions. All of the fluffy vain stuff can't matter to you: it can't define you anymore. And if you let it, you're destined to be miserable because trust me... this bloated, pale cancer body is no longer our standard of "beauty". I think that was important for me to realize, because I placed high standards on myself at one point in my life. Look a certain way, maintain a certain weight, touch up your roots, buy a new outfit every time you go out. In retrospect, it seems silly. When you get blindsided with something like cancer, it makes you wonder how you ever cared about those little things at all...

(Chipped nail polish still bothers me though).

xx

Sam


Find a bit of beauty in the world today. Share it. If you can't find it, create it. Some days this may be hard to do. Persevere. 

RIP Lisa.

(let's talk): "I Would Rather Have Cancer"

1 - If I was reincarnated as a shoe, it would be this Kate Spade sparkly pink heel. 2 - Me & my sister at the Nordstrom opening gala 3 & 4 - Opening of Pure Kitchen here in Westboro - amazing! I had the Grateful bowl - mushroom miso with shiitake tofu dumplings. Check it out. 5 - Eyelash update. Sorry to scare you.
Today was like Christmas at my house! (I missed out on having a normal Christmas this year so I reserve the right to celebrate as many Christmas-like mornings as I want until next December hits). I ripped down to my mailbox and anxiously rode up all 4 floors to rip into the new books that have been on my wish list (...not before I snapped a picture though). 

I get so giddy when I get good old fashioned snail mail. For my birthday, Jeff got me a stationary type subscription called Happy Mail which delivers a dose of colourful paper products to my door each month (he is the best gift-giver!). I may be the only one, but when I was younger I used to love to buy those "surprise" bags at Ardene - full of their old and expired products, I now know - I just loved the element of surprise. So when a friend said she'd been looking at my wish list and sent a package my way to keep me company I was delighted. 

I just started We Should All Be Feminists and I'm really excited to get into it (not to mention I think it has a cover that just begs to be instagrammed and blogged). 

I feel much better. I have been enjoying music again (for awhile I went podcast crazy! Still love 'em, but I missed my music time), reading lots, binge watching TV lots, and hibernating for that last little stretch of winter.

I actually just finished reading Still Alice by Lisa Genova last night. There's been some buzz around it recently: the movie is coming out and Julianne Moore is starring in it. I wanted to read it before the movie (I am one of those) and also I don't particularly like Julianne Moore and I wanted to develop Alice as a character for myself! I spent the afternoon telling one of my girlfriends how much I loved it. It hit so close to home for me. I bet you're asking - how? Isn't this book about Alzheimer's?

I didn't particularly think the book was well written. I found it was edited poorly and all characters but Alice were one dimensional. But, I give Still Alice 5 stars. I normally wouldn't turn to my blog for a book review but this book had so many subjects that are so relevant to me right now and create conversation I believe is so important.

Alice Howland is a Harvard professor. One day she is speaking at a lecture, one she has given multiple times, and can't quite remember the word she uses to describe her slide (it was Lexicon, by the way). She doesn't think much of it, until she is walking home from her office (which she has done hundreds of times) and gets lost. She has no idea where "home" is. This is when she starts to worry. 

She looks up her symptoms and sees memory loss can be associated with menopause. That must be it, she thinks. She goes to her doctor, who advises her that she shouldn't worry - take 6 months and come back and see me if things get worse (what is WITH doctor's and deciding to wait and see if things 'get worse'?) Alice is worried and demands to see a neurologist. 

Her neurologist tells her she has early-onset Alzheimer's. 

Her life as she knows it slowly starts to deteriorate. She must leave her job, she can't go out alone. She must give up running, reading, even watching movies - she can't follow the plot. Her husband distances himself from her. Alice struggles with the notion of having a life with Alzheimers - is there such a thing? 

Still Alice is fiction, but reads like a memoir. I did some research before I go running my mouth here, and it seems as if all the facts regarding Alzheimer's check out. At one point in the book, Alice talks about her diagnosis. You'll see immediately why we connected:

"She wished she had cancer instead. She'd trade Alzheimer's for cancer in a heartbeat. She felt ashamed for wishing this and it was certainly a pointless bargaining, but she permitted the fantasy anyway. With cancer, she'd have something that she could fight. There was surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. There was the chance that she could win. Her family and the community at Harvard would rally behind her battle and consider it noble. And even if defeated in the end, she'd be able to look them knowingly in the eye and say good-bye before she left.

Alzheimer's disease was an entirely different kind of beast. There were no weapons that could slay it. Taking Aricept and Namenda felt like aiming a couple of leaky squirt guns in to the face of a blazing fire. Right now, everyone with Alzheimer's faced the same outcome, whether they were eighty-two or fifty, resident of the Mount Auburn Manor or a full professor of psychology at Harvard University. The blazing fire consumed all. No one got out alive.

And while a bald head and a looped ribbon were seen as badges of courage and hope, her reluctant vocabulary and vanishing memories advertised mental instability and impending insanity. Those with cancer could expect to be supported by their community. Alice expected to be outcast. Even the well-intentioned and educated tended to keep a fearful distance from the mentally ill. She didn't want to become someone people avoided and feared."

When I read "I wished I had cancer instead", I was offended. Who would write that? Who would WISH that? But I kept reading. I thought long and hard about the above quote.

The stigma behind mental illness is a topic that's talked about a lot recently in the media. I think I limited "mental illness" to what we see in the media: depression, mood disorders, etc. I did not think of diseases and disorders such as Dementia and Alzheimer's. I couldn't help but think: if I had been diagnosed with a serious mental illness versus a serious physical illness, would the support I received be the same? Would I still be seen as strong for battling an equally devastating illness? Would I be as confident openly talking about my diagnosis? I really don't think so. That made me so sad. 

Alice's husband refuses to take his sabbatical to spend the year with Alice as her mind slowly depreciates and she starts to lose her surroundings. He can't comprehend that his smart and beautiful wife is sick - her MRI and catscans are fine. He yells at her, tells her to just remember what he is telling her. He is embarrassed of her illness. Why do we find it so hard to be compassionate towards mental illness and find it so easy to support those with physical symptoms? Yet: I didn't hate his character. I sympathized for him. His frustration was believable and I am beginning to realize that sometimes your support system needs support, too. If we aren't as open to talking about mental illness, how can it's patients get support the support they deserve? If we can't even support those directly suffering, how are we supposed to help and support their loved ones?

Alice's children are tested for early onset Alzheimers. One of her daughters doesn't want to have her DNA tested. She would rather not live knowing if she carries the gene. The constant worry of questioning if the Alzheimers has set in every time you can't find your keys. One daughter tests positive and explores new fertility options: we are actually able to test our eggs before IVF and see which ones will carry that specific gene, and we can decide not to use the ones affected. Does this all sound familiar? I could see myself having this exact conversation with my fertility specialist two months ago. 

Her daughter has twins, and Alice is at the hospital and does not recognize her family. She is holding her granddaughter, when suddenly she clues in. 

"'Anna, you had your babies." said Alice. 
"Yes, Mom, you're holding your granddaughter." said Anna.
"She's perfect. I love her."
"And they won't get Alzheimer's like I did?" Asked alice.
"No, they won't."
Alice inhaled deeply, breathing in the scrumptious smell of her beautiful granddaughter, filling herself with a sense of relief and peace she hadn't known in a long time.

I cried my eyes out when I read this part last night at 2:30AM. Maybe it's because I had a drink at the Nordstrom gala (which is beautiful, by the way), but it's likely because I remember the pure relief I felt when I was told I didn't carry the BRCA1 and BRCA2 gene. 

In such a beautiful moment, Alice immediately worries and thinks about her illness. It is all consuming. It touches every part of your life. You can't help but worry about such a small, innocent life having to endure such a hardship. You want pure, simple things for the ones you love.

Mental illness and disorder scares us. It scares me. I read Still Alice and agreed with her at some points: I would rather have cancer. But... it doesn't have to be so scary. We could talk about it like we talk about cancer. 1800 people went to the Nordstrom gala last night where 100% of ticket sales went to support the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation. We talk about cancer, we treat cancer, we are comfortable with cancer. It is because of the physical symptoms, the visible ones, that it so easily touches our lives. We see our loved ones suffer through cancer: it's side effects are obvious. Yet, equally as many of us suffer from mental illness, and because it isn't on the surface - there is no bald head or gaping scar - it is harder to talk about. We feel inclined not to. I felt sad, thinking about anyone suffering alone, suffering behind closed doors. Our treatment for an illness should not be different whether it is physical or mental. I related to Alice. While our diagnosis was different, our side effects very different, our thoughts and feelings about being "sick" and how it affects us are the same. One of us doesn't deserve to be alienated while the other one is considered a warrior. 

The real moral of the book is to live in the moment. Mental illness, cancer... it may be curable, or it may not be. I think it's all about taking the good with the bad, trying not to dwell, work your hardest, do your best. It's all we have. As Alice says, "Living in the moment is all I can do".  

xx

Sam

The One & Only Essential to Surviving a Canadian Winter (+ a list of what I'm grateful for)

New pajamas!

I have a story for you. 

Last year, I was taking the bus home in the perilous depths of winter. I had a particularly nasty cold. I was jamming out with my headphones on when a woman rapidly starting tapping on my shoulder. I nearly jumped out of my seat. She was handing - no, shoving - Kleenex into my hands. Looking super annoyed, she told me "Please use these. You are sniffing like crazy. It is grossing me out". Mortified, I hadn't even realized that I had been the annoying girl that was sniffling like crazy on an otherwise very quiet bus. I made a vow that day to never listen to music that was so loud that I couldn't hear myself breathe (or hear others talk), and always kept tissue in my purse for emergency situations like these ones. I thought that would be the beginning and end of all embarassing snot stories I would have to tell in my lifetime.

I was so wrong.

I noticed last week that my nose was leaking like a faucet. I am extremely cautious of any "new" side effects that my body is presenting me: I take my temperature like a crazy person just in case there is anything abnormal going on and I have to rush to the hospital (if I faint randomly in public, I have a nifty "fever card" on me at all times so people know that I am NOT WELL and to rush me to the hospital ASAP). Anyways, I always associated a runny nose with a really bad cold. Turns out all that mucus is always there, cold or not. You just never notice it because most of us have those handy dandy nose hairs that stop it from pouring out of your nose and running dangerously close to dripping into your mouth. Cue all the barf.

If you are going to be grateful for one thing this winter, I urge you to be grateful for your nose hair. You may be laughing right now, but I am being dead serious. Your nose hair is the essential roadblock between you and all the angry older women in the world who will try and shove tissues on you and embarrass you on public transportation. You only realize how much you appreciate your nose hair when you no longer have any. You definitely appreciate it when you no longer have control over your sniffling. I am speaking from experience here.

I was trying on dresses for the Nordstrom gala I'm going to this Wednesday night, and I noticed I was sniffing like crazy. I actually couldn't stop. The sales associate knocked on my changeroom door and asked me if I needed a tissue. She probably thought I was wiping my nose on all their expensive dresses. Mortified, yet again. I've started hoarding paper napkins at the beginning of meals at restaurants: before Jeff sits down I steal his and make him ask for another one. I try to keep Kleenex in my purse but I'm going through it too quickly. If you are looking for a gift for me, I would love purse sized tissues in any pattern, please (I do love Hello Kitty though and she has lots of Kleenex patterns, FYI).

So there's the latest new and nasty side effect. Who would have ever thought how essential nose hair is to getting through a Canadian winter? Not me.

I woke up this morning so sure I would be feeling better after my last treatment. When I was arguably feeling worse then I did yesterday, I started feeling a bit grumpy. This started to get me making a mental list of things I am grateful for, which I thought I would share here:

- Shonda Rhimes & How to Get Away With Murder (watched the first season in two days! Great show)
- Two adorable kitties who keep loving me despite when my last shower was
- Oreo ice cream sandwiches (birthday cake flavour)
- An e-mail telling me to expect an extra large box in the mail with tons of new advance readers to review
- Norman Reedus/Daryl Dixon (blowing through season 4 of Walking Dead)
- Project Free TV
- Consignment shops and $8 heels
- Floor to ceiling windows in my bedroom that make me feel like I am outside when in reality I have not been able to get out of bed before 4PM in 3 days
- My industrial-like fan that manages my hot flashes
- Uptown Funk/Bruno Mars
- When Jeff leaves for work and puts a blanket over my head like a turban, and claims I look "cute" (lies)
- #Pritchellrevamp2015 (the name Jeff and I have given to our apartment de-clutter).
- -10  degree weather (feeling balmy out today, no?)
- Super soft kleenex
- One more round of chemo

Things I am not grateful for:

Ikea. (I picked up a new piece of furniture only to come home and realize that one of the pieces is the wrong size.).

Among other things that are too disgusting to type and share here for you to read (more disgusting then talking about nose hairs). My stomach has been acting up on me today. Sorry.

An ideal day off for me just a few months ago would be to make a campsite on my couch, eat all the snacks, watch all the Netflix, and not get out of my Pajamas all day. Turns out, once you have done this on and off for three months the novelty really starts to wear off. I don't think I can ever allow myself to retire. I think I'll always need to keep a part time job or side project to prevent myself from going stir crazy.

I have been extremely lethargic this time around. My side effects hit me late Thursday. Where as in the past I have had extreme lack of sleep, this time around I can't seem to sleep enough. It is a real chore for me to move from my bed to the couch. I can barely hold my iPad up to watch TV. I am still pretty sore. My stomach was doing OK, until I woke up this morning and the explosion feeling hit again. I'm giving it until tomorrow morning. That will officially be a week and that is long enough!

The end is near and I'm actively thinking about how I only have one treatment left. My last chemo is actually scheduled for St Patty's day. St Patty's day of the past:

Shamrock pancakes and drinks starting at 8AM. Safe to say that this year will be a little different! That's ok, though. I have 15 days to think of the best/most fun outfit to wear to my last treatment. I love holidays. If you received a Valentine from me this year, I am jealous of you (Downton Abbey and 90's boy stars). For any of you who plan on coming to see me ring the bell, I promise to have festive treats to nosh on! (I can't condone bringing in a keg though, so if you want to get your drink on, I suggest Bailey's in a coffee mug).

There are two cancer-related events going on in Ottawa this March/April that I thought I would share with you. Since I'm up the creek still, I'm going to rely on you to do your part in spreading my message!! Next year, you can bet I will be the annoying girl blowing up your Facebook with breast cancer related events, but until then, here's some things you can consider:

Have you thought about cutting your long, luxurious hair recently? Every celebrity has done it. The lob is in. It's super chic and cute, and people with cancer rely on your lovely locks. So if you are willing to donate 6+ inches of hair, shave your head, or sponsor someone who is, visit www.hairdonationottawa.com for more details. If you end up taking part, you should definitely let me know and take some pictures.

Get Pink'd! March 12th is National Wear Pink day. Colleagues, teammates and friends are encouraged to make a $5 donation, don your Get Pink'd pin and wear pink in support of breast cancer research. If you're interested, the CBCF will set you up with a starter pack. All the details here. Again, send me pictures!! I would love to see your workplace, sports team, or group of friends wearing my fave colour.

I've spent a lot of time researching cancer related foundations. I have a very strong opinion forming on what/when you should donate and to whom. Especially for breast cancer. There are so many "breast cancer" products (think of everything that turns pink in October). It's so important to do your research and know where your money is going. A lot of the time, only a few cents go towards research.  I think this is a whole other post in the future, but for now, the above events are definitely good causes!

 

Playing with wigs! I always say how lucky I am to not be freaked out by fake hair now that I need it after working at a salon for so long, having tons of previous knowledge with extensions etc. Playing with wigs is one of the few fun parts of the whole experience.

So... that's all I've got to say this time around! Nose hair has definitely been on my top of mind awareness lately, and I couldn't wait a second longer to tell you how lucky you are to have it.  

I'm looking out my window right now and it's so sunny. I hope you are all enjoying your time skating on the canal, going for a walk on your lunch break, or joining me in finally opening the blinds. The sun feels so good. 

Until next time!

xx

Sam

(re)Assess: Good Things Come In 3's!

Today, browsing through home storage and organization books. I read an article called "10 things successful women do" (it was as cheesy as it sounds), but one of the tips were "Make your bed".  It didn't have as much to do with making your bed as much as it had to do with keeping your space clean. A clean space = a stress free mind.

The nice thing about keeping a blog is re-reading old posts and seeing how quickly your attitude, mind frame and opinion can change over such a short period of time. It's like when I look back on my high school journals and have a giggle at how melodramatic I was. I love that I have documented the details of how I've felt: how at times I've been naive, how curious, positive and hopeful I've been (and am). I have a resolution to go back and read my past journals on New Years Day, to remember everything that had happened over the last year and reflect on how I changed and grew from my experiences. It's a cool thing to review the words and thoughts of your past self. I feel like in 3 months I've learned so much. When I wrote my last post, I was still recovering from treatment #4: I hadn't slept in over a week, was suffering from abnormally crazy hot flashes and was definitely feeling down.

I'm at the very end of this treatment - day twenty - and I'm feeling so much better, mentally and physically. Re-reading my last post I felt so sad for myself (ha). It was definitely one of those low moments that everyone warned me about. When you're diagnosed, you generally go for a "Chemo Teach" class at the hospital: they make you sit through a particularly painful and scary slideshow of all of the side effects you may/may not experience, followed by a Q&A with a nurse that works on the chemo floor. They take you for a little tour around the cancer wing and the volunteers show you where you can find warm blankets, orange juice, and how to wheel yourself to the bathrooms. My volunteer pulled me aside while we were on our tour and told me she had gone through chemo herself and now that she's older has decided to volunteer. She she had two piece of advice for me:

1) Take advantage of the good days. There will be good days and there will be some very bad days. When you have a good day, take advantage of it and don't take it for granted. You don't know when your next good day will come again.

2) Go for walks. Get fresh air every day. Even if it's just around the block.

I think this is pretty good advice whether you're going through chemo or not! I was given a lot of advice when this all started, but for some reason, this is what stuck.

I'm getting increasingly tired as the time goes by: I find myself waking up in the morning and after breakfast I'm ready for a nap. Despite this, I do find it so important to get outside at least once a day, no matter how tired I am. It's a brutal cycle: I can't sleep at night, so I sleep during the day, then my nap is pushed later, and by the time night comes... I can't sleep again! I'm trying to break the cycle but for now, it's what works for me. But the walks help for light exercise and to tire me out a bit.

I'm prepping myself for this Tuesday (tomorrow) - treatment 5/6! At the beginning of this week I met with my oncologist, preparing for the worst. For some reason preparing for bad news helps me appreciate good news so much more. If you remember, I hadn't seen any change in my tumour at all the last 2 treatments. I think that contributed to my attitude after the last one: to have your life completely uprooted and to feel like it is for no reason is devastating.

But...guess what? I got some GREAT news this time around! It seems like for me, good things really DO come in 3's. After my first round, I had three pieces of good news. It's the same this time! Here goes:

1) My catscan I had 2 weeks ago on my lungs came back in: it was CLEAR. The cancer has not spread and the spots on my lungs they were concerned about back in November are nothing to worry about.

2) From this catscan, they saw that my lymphnodes are NO longer swollen at all and look like they've returned to normal! This doesn't necessarily mean the cancer is gone (and they will be removed regardless) but it definitely means that the chances of it spreading from there are now next to none.

3)  My tumour shrunk from 8cm to almost 6cm! Considering I started at 10cm...major win! Taxotere is my drug apparently (I told you guys!).

I can't describe how happy I am. Honestly, I'm most relieved about my lung scan coming back clear. It was the elephant in the room: had it spread? It would have changed my entire diagnosis and treatment plan (not to mention my life...). So, this was totally the push I needed to get to the finish line. When you know you're fighting and winning, the fight becomes so much easier.

                  

My eyebrows are holding on strong for now - although I notice when I pluck them, it doesn't hurt at all anymore, they seem to just come right out. My eyelashes on the other hand are becoming sparse. It was recommended that I try out  Thrive Causemetics: an awesome company that designs fake lashes for women going through cancer treatments (or even those that aren't!). Their lashes can be used up to 30 times, and their glue is meant to stick to skin: not lash. This is awesome, as most glue and lashes are meant to adhere to your natural lash line and won't stick when there isn't any hair! I have worn them once and they are beautiful and natural looking. While they are a bit more full then what I normally wear mascara-wise, they are definitely nicer then my natural lashes! (My wig and fake lashes are nicer then my natural ones. Why would I ever want my hair to grow back!?) Bonus: Every time you purchase from them, they donate a pair to a woman going through cancer treatment! :)

Other  then that, I've been keeping busy as usual! Here's a random assortment of pictures I've taken of my "escapades" from the last few weeks (I didn't take any pictures of my cats, or of my naps, but trut me there was a lot of both of those as well):

Jeff and I celebrated our 6th Valentines day together! We had a plan for Jeff to make dinner once he was home from work, but I didn't want there to be any stress. Instead, we walked to Trio, a cozy bar in our area, and had some appetizers and fancy drinks. We chatted and reminisced, trying to remember what we did the previous five Valentine's days. Naturally, we both got each other gifts from Chapters (my cute new scarf with the vintage glasses pattern has been on my wishlist!) and then I cried at my sappy card. Typical. I feel pretty lucky to have him by my side: not only this year when I'm at my worst, but for all the years past and all the years to come.

We got to spend some quality time playing Laser Tag (we were called "those adults in the back" by the facilitator...), and eat some Valentine's inspired cake with the wedding party of our best friends Kris & Graham. Aren't we a snazzy looking group? (Kris and I are in the back there dressed up as the little boy and ET for Halloween...).

So pleased to be spending more time with my cousin and sister! This week we went for lunch and binge watched Ana Faris movies on Netflix.  We have been trying out arm knitting and finger knitting. It's so easy!! You should try it. I have made an infinity scarf in about 45 minutes for $6. Next we're going to try a nice chunky blanket. Like I need another blanket...

I went to a Bachelorette in Montreal!! Seriously. I have had a few people go "!?!?!" about that one. It may SEEM like overdoing it but let me be honest: I was SO ECSTATIC to be doing something normal. I miss partying! That sounds bad, but I can reassure you the drinks were limited and I sanitized my hands more times then is considered normal. We ate and drank and danced and it was a fabulous celebration. I came back tired but so happy. Thank you to Jackie for organizing such a great trip and of course to Katrina for being such an awesomely fun bride.

Skating on the canal with my favorite dude! We were lucky to go on one of the few days that wasn't -40. It's actually shocking that last weekend Ottawa was named the coldest capital in the WORLD.  Let's be honest, we only went for the beavertails. We aren't really the winter type. Unless it involves a beach or backyard and a cooler of cold drinks, I'm not really the "outdoorsy" type either. Regardless, it felt great to get fresh air! I am definitely worse at skating then I remember.

 

I kept telling Katrina how she must have sub-consciously planned all of her events around my treatments, because not only was I able to attend them all but I felt good! Her wedding was this Saturday, and if anyone tells you that you can not DIY a wedding and have it be beautiful, they are mistaken. Winter weddings are so rare and it was a winter wonderland: complete with blue drinks, a hot chocolate bar and a long fur cape for the bride. I can't wait to see the pictures and video. I was able to make it till the end and we danced all night long. I can't imagine a couple that is more in love or perfect for each other then Katrina & Matt and I was so happy I got to be a part of their celebration! (PS - YES that is my wig in an updo. YES, I consider myself an A+ pro at wig styling now)

Happy colours!

A girlfriend of mine sent me this hilarious article titled "12 Things Never To Say To Someone That Has Cancer". I laughed my head off. Cancer jokes have become frequent in my household and are also extra helpful for persuading people to do things for me. For example: "Jeff...can you PLEASE get me a glass of water? But... I have cancer!!" or when I borrow my sister's clothes... "Lianne, this is my cancer sweater! I wear it when I'm not feeling well!". Who could say no to that? Throw in that C word and you've got it made. Sometimes you have to make light/take advantage of things that suck! ;)

In other cancer-related news (because that's what you come here for, right?!), Krysta Rodriguez - a TV & Broadway star - was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and started a fantastic blog that's in it's baby stages (she just started her chemo), called Chemo Couture. When I read her blog, I feel like a seasoned pro when it comes to treatments now and that is so funny to me. Only a few short months ago, I was finding myself frantically searching "chemo tips", "breast cancer side effects" or "how to keep my hair as long as possible" reading everything there was to know about the fight I was up against. She's only a few posts in, but I relate to her writing and her tone. A lot of what she says really speaks to me. Here's some musings after her first week of chemo:

"Miraculously, a week later I feel almost perfectly normal. It’s an eery and slightly empowering feeling to know you are sick but to feel so normal, like you’re cheating the system. I feel almost guilty about it. During this time I still haven’t shared with everyone that I have cancer. The secret inside is so large but the desire for normalcy is monumentally larger.  I have found that sometimes it just feels good to pretend. One of the first things you realize is that no one wants to tell you their problems or talk about fun frivolities when there’s a cancer elephant in the room. What they don’t know is that I’m the LAST thing I want to talk about! I don’t want something as greedy as this tumor to steal my ability to be a friend, a confidant, a woman. I’m not ready to be known this way."

My sister came over to my place on Sunday and we placed our bets on our favorite Oscar contenders. In reality, we didn't see as many movies as we would have liked and we all ended up guessing. I consider myself an Oscar's buff, and I still can't make educated guesses at categories like Best Short & Foreign Language Film. It's hard enough to get through all the ones nominated for Best Picture!

 It SOMEHOW turned into a 3-way tie between Jeff, Lianne and I which just means we are going to have to use our movie gift card to see a movie altogether. You simply can't fill out the ballots without an appropriate prize to go along with it! (This is one of the few times where my competitive side comes out...). Next year I am making a promise to have a big Oscar party in the theater room in our building. 

I'm going to try and tie things up as it's almost midnight and I've eaten an entire bag of Goldfish crackers so I think it's time for bed. I have an early day at the hospital tomorrow (8AM - don't they know I don't get up before noon?!). I have packed my hospital bag and even made a lunch to bring with me. I have my alarm set for 6. If you follow me on Instagram, you probably saw that both Jeff and I slept through our alarms last chemo day and were very late. Oops. Hopefully we can pull ourselves together for this round!

  

I wanted to share that I hit 15, 000 views on my blog this week. Wow. This has been since I published my first post back in the end of November. I disclose this only because I am in awe of the power of the internet and the incredible ways people can connect. At the wedding this weekend, a couple I know came over to me and told me they shared my blog with a family member that was recently diagnosed. She told me that it had helped her learn more about her diagnosis and what she was going to be enduring in the months to come. I remember reading Nalie's blog and being so thankful for her. So thankful to have someone else that I could look to, refer to, use as my guide. I'm scared but elated that I may be that for someone else. What started out as a post to keep my family and friends up to date on my day-to-day has turned into so much more. I definitely don't know 15, 000 people, so to those of you that are reading this that I haven't met personally: Hi! I am so happy you're here. If you have any questions, feel free to e-mail me. I may or may not be able to answer them, but I DO know how nice it feels to have someone that understands what you're going through, and I could be that for you (if you want). Mainly I'm just being selfish because I love making new friends, cancer or not. 

In one month from now I'll be done my treatments and feeling good! In a month it will also be Spring (25 more days!), so when you're trudging to work this week and you think you may have frostbite, keep that tidbit of information in your back pocket.

Until next time

 xx

Sam

Round 4: They don't give prizes for bravery!

1) Wearing the ice gloves and slippers for 90 full minutes. With only a few breaks of less then a minute between. I couldn't feel my fingertips for 3 days after this. If I can't have my hair I'll do anything to keep my nails! 2) Found this in a February edition magazine. Uh, I think I had that hair colour first, Chanel.
This last week I was sad. And mad.

That's a pretty terrible way to start a blog post. Please don't leave!

I had my treatment last Tuesday. It was a LONG day at the hospital. It started when our alarm didn't go off, and Jeff and I were set into a bag packing frenzy to try and get to the hospital for 8AM. We made it, and ended up waiting until 9:30 to get started. I guess it can be common to have an allergic reaction to Taxotere, so they administer it slowly the first time to ensure you're not allergic. I didn't end up leaving until around 4. In total I was there for a full 8 hours! That feels like a long time when you're chained to a bed and hooked up to an IV. They sent me on my way and told me to expect "flu like symptoms" and for my worst days to likely be Thursday and Friday. I was exhausted, so by the time I came home, Jeff and I hung out and went to bed. I waited for side effects to hit, and none came.

Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were similar. I was SO careful: I napped a lot (I think this is just because I love naps though, and not from the chemo), and waited for side effects to hit. Nothing came.

You know how every March here in Ottawa, we get that warm day that makes us feel like Spring is around the corner? We start to put away our winter boots, the snow is melting, our hopes are high...and then, inevitably, a snowstorm hits. We all know it's coming, but we indulge ourselves in believing that maybe, maybe this year will be different.

Yeah, that was a lot like chemo #4 for me. By Friday night, I had myself thinking "This Taxotere stuff is a joke!"; that I had escaped this one with NO side effects. On the Friday I even went out into the market and browsed around Rideau. 8 hours in the hospital with multiple bags of drugs flushed into me? No side effects? Really Sam?? What was I thinking.

Around Friday night my neck started to get a little sore. I didn't think much of it. If a sore neck was the only pain I had from this round, I would be a happy girl.

As you can probably guess, on Saturday morning, I woke up and I was sure that I had been in a major car accident. I could. not. move. My neck was stiff, I couldn't move my shoulders, I could barely make it up to go to the bathroom. I winced with every step I took. I still told myself, the pain is better then the foggy nausea I'd experienced with the FEC.

On Sunday I woke up, and was equally as sore as I was Saturday, if not more so. But to add to the mix, the gastro pains I felt were easily one of the most uncomfortable and painful things I've had to experience in my life so far (I can already picture Jeff telling me I'm being overly dramatic: but it's TRUE!). I've been resistant to taking sleeping pills and other stronger drugs prescribed to me, but my grandma sent me a message telling me "They don't give out prizes for bravery", so I kept the extra strength Tylenol going every 4 hours.

The Grammy's were on last Sunday night and I was stoked. I LOVE awards shows. Awards season is my thing. I never miss one. I flip back and forth between every feed of red carpet footage. I hate the mani-cam. I always know all the contenders and have a fairly decent idea of who the "favorites" are. I anxiously await seeing George Clooney at every event. So when I say I actually had to miss them because I was  too sick... as in, I was too sick to EVEN WATCH TV. Come on, watching TV takes no strength at all. That's how you know it was bad.

I yelled to Jeff from my room about how I thought I may be dying, and how I literally thought my stomach may explode like something weird I'd seen in the Walking Dead (new obsession). It was in that moment I started closing my eyes and thinking how there is absolutely no way I can do this again. I can't go through it a second and third time with my next treatment. The sore bones, sore body, puffy face, the intense stomach pains. I don't want to do this anymore. I dreamed up how I would walk into my oncologist office and say I QUIT. I quit this chemo thing. No more for me. I can't do it.

So, this is why I have been sad this last week. Handling your mental health is equally as important as trying to manage your physical health.

I'd lost the fight in that moment. I really did. I started to have a defeatist attitude. I normally comfort myself with strong words: You have been given this battle because you can fight it. You are able to win. You have the strength. You can endure anything. You can and will push through this. The pain is temporary. This will pass. You have your whole future ahead of you. What you go through now is so you can live for years to come. I have never allowed myself to even THINK "I can't do this anymore". I've been sad, afraid, but until then, I've never been beaten down.

I started looking in the mirror and seeing the shell of the human I used to be. I was mad. I was so, so mad. My face was swollen, bloated. I have gained weight since this whole ordeal and my body feels foreign to me now. I have always had a physically demanding job so I've always felt strong. Now, I can barely walk down the road without losing my breath. My body is literally trying to kill me. I don't look like me, I don't feel like me.

I went shopping this week and just got angry there too. Normally I feel happiest when I'm shopping. Instead, I felt angry that everyone else around me seemed to be enjoying their weekend off: they probably had plans to have drinks with friends, get their hair done, and go back to work on Monday feeling refreshed for their work week. I envied their routine.

I went to Chapters Barrhaven and  turned right back around and left. I was just reminded of the work I wasn't doing and the career that wasn't advancing and the skills I wasn't developing.

I started getting mad at any girl that had a cute haircut. I started getting upset at anyone I saw that was running by my apartment, that their bodies were allowing them to stay strong and fit. If you had a life that wasn't mine, I was mad at you. The hardest part is seeing everyone around you move forward as you stay idle. It's a lonely place.

My hot flashes are particularly bad, so recently I've given up sleeping at night. I will stay up until 3-4AM, and then sleep until noon. I started thinking, what's the point. My days aren't valuable anyways. I'm not doing anything. My time doesn't matter. I just want this to be over.

Knowing myself, it may be the exhaustion that had gotten me so down. I tend to be particularly fussy when I'm tired.

Today I went in to my work for what I thought was a disability package (or something of the sorts), and it turned out to be a massive group hug with my team and an overly generous donation they had gathered for me at our work Christmas party. I tend to get all choked up and overwhelmed when these things happen to me and I'm put on the spot, but I was bursting with pride when I saw so many of my favorite people in one place, literally busting their asses to make changes I had set so much of the ground work for before I left. It's so cool to see natural progression, people growing and learning, and for real change to happen.

While I was talking to the group, a girl I didn't recognize was tearing up beside me. I figured she was a new hire. I thought it was strange but nice that she was tearing up as I told the team that I was doing OK. She spoke up a little while later and said "I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 26. If it makes you feel better, it's been 5 years and I've had two children since then".

I couldn't even speak. In this basement, with no more then 20 people, this woman who had happened to volunteer from Belleville on the day I happened to be visiting them, had gone through exactly what I'm going through. She found me later on, and we chatted about my diagnosis and hers and we exchanged e-mail addresses and she gave me her phone number, in case I needed to text someone who might know what I was going through.

Life is crazy. Life is random. Or is it? I don't know anymore. All I know is that when I start to feel particularly low, when those negative thoughts start to overtake my mind, something like this happens to me. Someone, or something, is sent to me to remind me that I'm not alone.

I left my work knowing that it wasn't a coincidence that I had met this girl. It just can't be. Some things can't be explained, and this is one of them. It was snowing tonight and it was beautiful. I haven't considered anything beautiful all week. I was too sad. I was too angry.

 I was eating lunch with a friend this week and we were talking about how some people seem to have it "so good". We talked about envy and how it ties in with anger. It reminded her of this clip above and I had such a laugh. "Just... no one in this car".

I have so many people in my life cheering me on. I am so blessed and lucky to have them all. I just needed that extra reassurance and comfort, that what I'm going through isn't foreign. I keep on learning and re-learning this as I go through this year. I'll probably have to re-learn this lesson another dozen times. Sometimes you get all consumed in your own drama that you forget that everyone else has their own thing going on. Whether it's cancer or not, that girl may have perfect hair but I can bet she doesn't have a perfect life. It probably isn't fair for me to be mad at her.

And for some reason, that makes me feel less lonely. And infinitely better. If you're going to have perfect hair you have to have something else wrong with you. (Kidding.)

So now I guess I can go back to being Sailor Sam again. Like Sailor Moon, but I'm fighting off cancer instead of evil. I need to get myself a cute cape.

xx

Sam

(un)Believable: When Fate Steps In (+ all the boring details)

 

 1) Exploring new coffee shops in Westboro with Jeff 2) Went a little crazy at Micheal's this week. So many coupons! 3 & 4) Dinner with my bestest at Sidedoor on Saturday. 5) Lots of questions about my wig so... here it is! 6) Today!

I figured I would do a really thorough and technical post getting all of my family up to date before I hit up chemo #4.

This chemo is completely different from my first three rounds. This time, they'll administer me Taxotere (or Docetaxol), and Herceptin. Herceptin is a form of chemo with little to no side effects, and is something I'll need to have administered to me for the next year (it only takes about a half hour). This is because I tested triple positive: progesterone, estrogen, and HER2. Herceptin will help me regulate the hormones that I produce and ensure that no more cancer tries to ruin my life in the years to come.

Taxotere is a little more daunting. I'm trying not to panic (yet), as not everyone gets all of the side effects. I did a bad thing though. I searched Taxotere side effects on the internet and found myself lost in a chatroom of women ranting about how Taxotere ruined their lives. I was that person that researched their illness. WHY did I do that? I swear I didn't mean to, and then next thing I knew, I was 5 pages deep into their thread. So... I'm a little bit nervous.

Common Taxotere side effects:

- tingling or loss of feeling in fingertips and toes
- brittle nails and discolouration of nails (sometimes it can cause loss of nails: this is the round where I put my hands and feet in the ice mitts to prevent this)
- dry mouth and mouth sores
- weight gain and bloating
- joint pain and sore bones (Taxotere attacks bone marrow, which means my bones are literally being attacked this time)
- loss of facial hair (eyelashes and eyebrows)

With Taxotere, there is generally little to no nausea, so that's a plus *insert heart eyed emoji here*. I keep saying I would rather be in pain then be nauseous. I say this now... but remind me I said this when I am in extreme pain three days from now, OK?

I also received the results back from my genetics test. As many of you know, I was really nervous for this. It doesn't help that you receive a call from the hospital telling you your results are in, and then giving you a date to receive them a week and a half later. Can we talk about anxiety?

I brought my mom, dad and Jeff to get the results read to me. I was tested for BRCA1, BRCA2, and Li-Fraumeni Syndrome. BRCA1 and BRCA2 are generally associated with breast and ovarian cancer. Li-Fraumeni is to test for mutations in genes that generally align with child cancer. Esentially, based on my age, I am actually almost deemed a "child" still, and because I was diagnosed so young they wanted to ensure that my cancer didn't actually stem from a mutation in a gene that is prevalent among childhood cancer.

To set the scene, there was really no best case scenario here. If I was tested positive for BRCA1 or BRCA2, it would mean that I would likely have developed either breast or ovarian cancer at some point in my lifetime. So, the plus: I would have an answer as to why I got sick to begin with. I could get a double mastectomy and have my ovaries removed and the chances of me getting cancer again would be very slim. If my genes came back positive here, and I decided (and was able) to have my own children, they would have a 50% chance of them also developing breast and ovarian cancer. If the test came back positive, my mom and sister would then have to be tested and if they tested positive, they would likely choose to undergo preventative surgeries as well. We thought this would be unlikely as there is very little cancer in my family, on both mom and dad's side.

If the BRCA1 and BRCA2 test came back negative, it would mean that there is essentially no explanation as to why I got sick. No answer. It could have been "random". It could mean that my cancer lies in another part of my DNA, but we have not funded and done the research to know which genes to look for yet (they keep our blood on file and if any groundbreaking research surfaces, they can re-test my DNA). No answer means that I could be fine. Maybe it is a one off thing. Or, maybe it's not. Maybe my cancer lies in a gene where I am susceptible to multiple kinds of cancer, and we just don't know it yet. The fear of the unknown, not being able to do anything about it: that's scary.

And, the child cancer gene. This is extremely rare, and if it were to come back positive, it would mean that I am extremely susceptible to cancer of the lung, brain, pancreas, etc. The chances of me getting cancer again would be high. I would be screened for this, but this would likely not be my last battle.

So, I went into CHEO where they read you your results, and my geneticist tells me:

Negative. Everything came back negative.

I was relieved. In reality, this is the best case scenario for now. My mom and sister don't have to worry. If I choose to, and am able to have children, I won't have any guilt of passing along the genes. But... Why me? About 80% of genetic tests do come back inconclusive. This is one of the many areas where our money goes when we talk about "cancer research". There is so much unknown when it comes to genetic mutations and cancer. Without any answers, I can only hope I'm the "one off" case.

I had my appointment with my oncologist at the beginning of January to see how I did with round 2. While I am doing well in regards to coping with the chemo, I did not see my tumor shrink at all the second time. While my oncologist was not worried about this, as it can be common, I was really upset. To go through these harsh treatments and see NO result is absolutely defeating. I tried not to dwell on this for too long, and instead prepared better for my next treatment.


Today, I had my oncologist appointment to see how I did with round 3. We spoke about Taxotere and the change of drugs, and when he measured me he did not see any change in the size, yet again. We aren't sure why. I asked if I should be worried: it's hard not to spiral into a panic. He told me there is a chance that what he is feeling may be scar tissue, and the chemo is working better then we can tell. We won't know what's going on in there until I go for my surgery. And, despite the fact that I'm frustrated and exhausted thinking about how I'm not seeing ideal results with my treatments, it's important to go through with it. The smaller I can get this thing, the better it is for my surgeon. The less there is to remove, the better. Some people respond better to some treatments then others, so let's pray that Docetaxol is my drug. I'm relieved I don't have to deal with any more FEC chemo. PTFO to that (#sorrynotsorry).

I haven't talked a lot about my surgeon yet, Dr. Arnaout. I haven't seen her since my birthday when she gave me my diagnosis. I was overwhelmed and wish I could have asked more questions. Instead, Jeff had to explain sorrily why I was crying harder at the fact that I had to leave my job and even harder when I found out I was losing my hair then when she told me I actually had cancer (priorities?...) I'm getting closer to the end now (after tomorrow, I'm over the halfway mark!) and I'll meet with her to discuss my surgery in the coming weeks. At the beginning of January, the Ottawa Citizen posted an incredible article about her. If you want to learn more about the changes she's making to breast health in Ottawa, and why she's my hero, you should definitely read the article.

“I don’t have a husband or children so my focus is my patients. I don’t feel tired or emotionally drained. This hospital and my patients are my life.”

“I asked myself what is my purpose? How can I make a bigger dent in this universe? The first phase of my career was about being the hero and saving lives. Now I ask how can I help more that one person at a time? I believe through research I will have an impact on a mass number of patients.”

Other then that, my hot flashes are out of this world. I can't even believe the intensity of them and that I will not only have to endure this once in my lifetime but TWICE. That barely seems fair. Am I not putting in my good time now?!

Jeff and I were out shopping the other day and I had my big parka on and I got a hot flash in the store. I walked over to him and said, I don't know what to do. I think I'm really sweaty. He looked at me like I was dying. He tried to rush me home. I was so covered in sweat, my jacket was soaked, my hat was drenched, my face was shiny. I had gone grey. I thought I may faint. I took my jacket off and stood in the -30 weather and bounced back to normal. Then I demanded we still go for brunch. Where I proceeded to have 2 more flashes. We also sleep with our window open every single night and we don't have the heat on in our apartment. I'm not even kidding. Seriously, the worst.

I have to say how grateful, overwhelmed and pleased I am with all of the super kind words from my last post. I thought it was really important to shed light on the scary side of all of this. I almost didn't hit publish, it felt too raw, too real. Part of me didn't want to have it out in the open, I wanted to keep it my secret and continue living the way I always have. And now everyone from my work reads my blog and will probably kick me out of my workplace the second the clock hits 2, and I will have to hide in the basement and finish said work, but despite this (ha) and with all of your positive feedback, I definitely feel confident in my decision to hit publish!

Sometimes I wonder why in the heck I've chosen to be so open and candid about my diagnosis and my life. It is very out of character for me. I am actually a very private person (or, I was, at least). This blog sort of just happened.

I cringe sometimes and want to disappear in my apartment for the rest of the year when people weirdly look at me. At a wig salon, my hair falling out, one of the women looked at me with round eyes and said: HOW big is it? Did you find it yourself?

Or, how about this: Could you send us a picture of yourself without any hair? We think it would make for a more compelling story.

These are moments when I wish I had never hit publish at all. I feel like an oddity. But, then there are moments like this one. It is easily my most goosebump-worthy moment to date:

3AM, I'm lying in bed 2 days after having my chemo. I can't sleep. I'm so miserable and uncomfortable and just, blah. Have you ever been so tired you want to cry? Perfect, you get the picture now.

I'm super lonely, feeling like I'm the only one in the world awake, thinking all of those miserable 3AM thoughts, when all of a sudden I hear a ding go off on my phone. Someone else is also awake at 3AM!

"Hey Sam. My aunt gave me a newspaper clipping and it happened to be about you. I just thought I would reach out and see how you were doing. Like you, I was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer at the age of 22. I just finished my chemo in December and am starting with radiation. If you ever want to have a coffee or something feel free to message me back. Sometimes it's nice to not feel so alone".

Then I remember why I hit publish. We're never really alone in what we're going through, are we? No situation is really unique to us, no matter how much in that moment it may feel that way. There is someone, somewhere on this planet, that is going through the same thing.

Mine just happened to come to me in the form of a 22 year old girl living in downtown Ottawa at 3AM. Fate?

So, what was once a way for me to keep my friends and family informed on my diagnosis has turned into an extremely therapeutic sense of release for me.

So when you're reading my blog, messaging me and telling me how much you love reading my words, remember that it's actually the other way around: I love writing them.

xx

Sam