I got certified to exercise with cancer patients to regain their former enegry levels and range of motion. I am fortunate because my experience with cancer was positive in that I survived. Everyday I mourn former friends and family members who weren't so fortunate. My passion is teaching cancer patients to regain control over their lives, to move on from cancer and get on with living. I want to give something back to those who gave me my health. The whole time I was sick I kept thinking 3 things: 1) this can't be for nothing, 2) I want to handle this with grace and dignity, 3)I want to be an example to others going through this awful journey that they will get through and survive. So I've decided to make this blog about what it's like to have cancer. Send me any question, covering any cancer-experience related topic you've been afraid to ask your loved one who has cancer. I will be happy to answer it as honestly and openly as possible.
In the meantime I would like to share some thoughts with you from a cancer patients perspective.
If you really want to support a cancer patient – don’t send them flowers!!
I have stated publicly on several occasions how much love and support I received while battling cancer. I also received some of the most amazing gifts of my life. I’m grateful for every moment I have on this earth and I do have a much greater appreciation for life than I ever did. But you have to admit, sometimes although people have the best intentions; things are not received as one would hope. The intention of this article is to protect you from such situations.
When I had my first mastectomy I came home from the hospital unable to lift my right arm. I could not even lift a cup of coffee. Coffee for me is a ritual; I take the best cup from my set, the one with no chips, put in the perfect amount of sugar and milk, and then lift the cup with my right hand to drink it. This was a very frustrating realization that cancer had permeated my most sacred morning ritual. Not only could I not lift my right arm, but as a part of the mastectomy I got to come home with these drain bulbs literally hanging out of my body for the excess blood to be drained out four times a day and safely discarded. So here I am walking around the house with this hospital-issued tube top with a velcro closure and the drain bulbs hanging from my body safety pinned to the tube top. Every time a delivery person came to the door with yet another floral bouquet, we had to get up and answer the door and act excited for the flowers or God forbid the edible fruit/flower basket. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate every flower and daisy shaped cantaloupe I received. But when you are faced with 17 pounds of fruit and more than 20 vases to store someplace while wondering if your drain bulbs are full or if your tube top is sliding down your newly flatter than flat chest. Well I think you get my point. One final note on the flowers, if your loved one is going through chemotherapy, their sense of smell is compromised, so the flowers you dropped $75 on may just cause your friend to vomit several more times that day.
Another gift to avoid giving would be one I received from a person whom I chose to believe had good intentions. I was getting ready for my second chemo treatment. This was a significant treatment because for my type of chemo, the second treatment is the one that makes your hair fall out. As my Oncologist said to me “You can’t wish it away, you can’t hope it away, you can’t buy a magic potion – you will lose your hair.” So I come home from my second treatment bracing myself for this hair-loss and my husband comes home from work and says “don’t get mad, someone at work made you a gift.” Why would I be mad? What a sweet gesture, I’m so lucky to have these supportive people in my life.
The gift was an acid washed reddish-pink baseball hat that was bedazzled with every shiny metal shaped object you can imagine from the brim to the little adjustment thingy in the back of the hat. “Not so bad” you might say? Well emblazoned across the top of this hat, written in fake diamonds were the words “bad hair day”. Although I’m pretty good at seeing the humor in things, you should know, I really had good hair, it was thick and shiny, all one length – I had just grown out my bangs, finally got them long enough so that I could tuck them behind my ear. So I was not joyously anticipating losing my hair or putting that thing on my head. So receiving this did not make me feel good. It made me feel angry and kind of hurt that some one thought this would be my go-to head covering when I had to run out with a big giant bald head.
So when considering a gift for your newly bald friend consider a simple scarf or fun earrings as we bald women have a strong affinity for great earrings.
One final “gift” you may want to avoid giving is unsolicited advice. This is so hard for most people, me included. I was surprised at how many people told me to just get through everything and look forward to my new boobs I’d be getting at the end of my treatments. Before cancer (or BC, as I like to call it), I was a double a, if you don’t know bra sizes, that means I was flatter than a thirteen-year old. While people were advising me to look forward to my newly renovated chest, I didn’t feel too optimistic having an utter hanging from my chest and a complete lack of hair, which includes eyebrows and eyelashes. You don’t know how much you appreciate your hair and flat chest till you are faced with having part of it cut off or losing it all together. I know many women who have had a single mastectomy who are perfectly happy with no intentions of reconstruction. This is a personal choice which I respect. So, if your friend is faced with too many decisions to make in too short a timeframe, do some research. Go online and get some information on their treatment/procedures from reputable sites. I guess the real gift here is letting them chose and supporting their choice.
The simplest gift can show up when you least expect it. Be the friend they can say anything in front of. I have this friend who I would call and say “I’m going to tell you something and you have to see the humor in it with me” – and she did. So I was free to poke fun at my situation without gasps of horror that cancer patients are making fun of their situation.
Then there’s Gina. Gina is a tough chick. Gina is also a pastry chef which although I think it’s a cool job, I would not picture a tough chick making cookies (and her cookies are delicious). I told Gina that I’d be taking time off work for treatments. Then on the day of every one of my chemo treatments there was a cooler filled with home made soups. This was not just a vat of soup stored in separate containers, there was any kind of soup you can imagine, crab chowder, chicken noodle, escarole, minestrone so many different types of soup. All homemade, all sitting there on my front step the day of my treatment. No questions for me to answer, or decisions for me to make (other than which soup to eat first), just help and support. Gina would call from time-to-time to check in on me. She kept asking what my favorite pie was. At the end of my chemo treatments, there was the most beautiful key-lime pie delivered to my house. My husband and Mother-in-Law each had a piece; I ate the rest of the pie with reckless abandon. Gina is still a tough chick, still a pastry chef, still my client but now I’m proud to call her my friend.
So if you have this loved one going through this awful “journey”, carry them through. Silently be there for them. Give them the space to have a breakdown in front of you and be there for them when they do. I found I was drawn to the people who said “Wow this sucks; I don’t know what to say”. They were the people I knew I wanted to be around. They were there for the bad and the horrible and the key lime pie.
If you really want to support a cancer patient – don’t send them flowers!!
I have stated publicly on several occasions how much love and support I received while battling cancer. I also received some of the most amazing gifts of my life. I’m grateful for every moment I have on this earth and I do have a much greater appreciation for life than I ever did. But you have to admit, sometimes although people have the best intentions; things are not received as one would hope. The intention of this article is to protect you from such situations.
When I had my first mastectomy I came home from the hospital unable to lift my right arm. I could not even lift a cup of coffee. Coffee for me is a ritual; I take the best cup from my set, the one with no chips, put in the perfect amount of sugar and milk, and then lift the cup with my right hand to drink it. This was a very frustrating realization that cancer had permeated my most sacred morning ritual. Not only could I not lift my right arm, but as a part of the mastectomy I got to come home with these drain bulbs literally hanging out of my body for the excess blood to be drained out four times a day and safely discarded. So here I am walking around the house with this hospital-issued tube top with a velcro closure and the drain bulbs hanging from my body safety pinned to the tube top. Every time a delivery person came to the door with yet another floral bouquet, we had to get up and answer the door and act excited for the flowers or God forbid the edible fruit/flower basket. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate every flower and daisy shaped cantaloupe I received. But when you are faced with 17 pounds of fruit and more than 20 vases to store someplace while wondering if your drain bulbs are full or if your tube top is sliding down your newly flatter than flat chest. Well I think you get my point. One final note on the flowers, if your loved one is going through chemotherapy, their sense of smell is compromised, so the flowers you dropped $75 on may just cause your friend to vomit several more times that day.
Another gift to avoid giving would be one I received from a person whom I chose to believe had good intentions. I was getting ready for my second chemo treatment. This was a significant treatment because for my type of chemo, the second treatment is the one that makes your hair fall out. As my Oncologist said to me “You can’t wish it away, you can’t hope it away, you can’t buy a magic potion – you will lose your hair.” So I come home from my second treatment bracing myself for this hair-loss and my husband comes home from work and says “don’t get mad, someone at work made you a gift.” Why would I be mad? What a sweet gesture, I’m so lucky to have these supportive people in my life.
The gift was an acid washed reddish-pink baseball hat that was bedazzled with every shiny metal shaped object you can imagine from the brim to the little adjustment thingy in the back of the hat. “Not so bad” you might say? Well emblazoned across the top of this hat, written in fake diamonds were the words “bad hair day”. Although I’m pretty good at seeing the humor in things, you should know, I really had good hair, it was thick and shiny, all one length – I had just grown out my bangs, finally got them long enough so that I could tuck them behind my ear. So I was not joyously anticipating losing my hair or putting that thing on my head. So receiving this did not make me feel good. It made me feel angry and kind of hurt that some one thought this would be my go-to head covering when I had to run out with a big giant bald head.
So when considering a gift for your newly bald friend consider a simple scarf or fun earrings as we bald women have a strong affinity for great earrings.
One final “gift” you may want to avoid giving is unsolicited advice. This is so hard for most people, me included. I was surprised at how many people told me to just get through everything and look forward to my new boobs I’d be getting at the end of my treatments. Before cancer (or BC, as I like to call it), I was a double a, if you don’t know bra sizes, that means I was flatter than a thirteen-year old. While people were advising me to look forward to my newly renovated chest, I didn’t feel too optimistic having an utter hanging from my chest and a complete lack of hair, which includes eyebrows and eyelashes. You don’t know how much you appreciate your hair and flat chest till you are faced with having part of it cut off or losing it all together. I know many women who have had a single mastectomy who are perfectly happy with no intentions of reconstruction. This is a personal choice which I respect. So, if your friend is faced with too many decisions to make in too short a timeframe, do some research. Go online and get some information on their treatment/procedures from reputable sites. I guess the real gift here is letting them chose and supporting their choice.
The simplest gift can show up when you least expect it. Be the friend they can say anything in front of. I have this friend who I would call and say “I’m going to tell you something and you have to see the humor in it with me” – and she did. So I was free to poke fun at my situation without gasps of horror that cancer patients are making fun of their situation.
Then there’s Gina. Gina is a tough chick. Gina is also a pastry chef which although I think it’s a cool job, I would not picture a tough chick making cookies (and her cookies are delicious). I told Gina that I’d be taking time off work for treatments. Then on the day of every one of my chemo treatments there was a cooler filled with home made soups. This was not just a vat of soup stored in separate containers, there was any kind of soup you can imagine, crab chowder, chicken noodle, escarole, minestrone so many different types of soup. All homemade, all sitting there on my front step the day of my treatment. No questions for me to answer, or decisions for me to make (other than which soup to eat first), just help and support. Gina would call from time-to-time to check in on me. She kept asking what my favorite pie was. At the end of my chemo treatments, there was the most beautiful key-lime pie delivered to my house. My husband and Mother-in-Law each had a piece; I ate the rest of the pie with reckless abandon. Gina is still a tough chick, still a pastry chef, still my client but now I’m proud to call her my friend.
So if you have this loved one going through this awful “journey”, carry them through. Silently be there for them. Give them the space to have a breakdown in front of you and be there for them when they do. I found I was drawn to the people who said “Wow this sucks; I don’t know what to say”. They were the people I knew I wanted to be around. They were there for the bad and the horrible and the key lime pie.
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