[2022-02-03] Cheerleader
I had wanted to title this post "A better day" but realized that I had already written a post with that title just over a year ago.
On January 10, 2021, I wrote in A better day that I had rebounded after a conversation with a member of The Ottawa Hospital's gynecologic oncology team a few days earlier that had left me feeling down and hopeless. I said:
So often in my life, I've met with doctors and received good news: the test was negative, your results are normal, you're ahead of the curve. Ovarian cancer doesn't seem to work that way. Discussions are sober, enthusiasm is restrained, hope is not volunteered. I get the drill, but I can choose to be my own cheerleader.
What I didn't know then was that I would learn just four days later that my CA125 level had dropped to 10 from 19 the previous month (the first time my CA125 had been below 35). Nor did I know that it would stay at 8 or 7 for the next year. In fact, just today, I got confirmation—yet again—that my CA125 remains at 8. You cannot imagine how uplifting it is to see that number, which continues to be low and stable.
But it wasn't just my lovely CA125 that made today a better day. After this morning's radiation treatment, I asked to meet with one of the oncology nurses at the Irving Greenberg Family Cancer Centre. Nurse Hilary—a lovely, efficient and clear woman—checked my skin and declared that it looked better than she had expected. She confirmed that I did not have a bladder infection (I had left a urine sample with the lab yesterday to rule that out as the source of my bladder pain). And she gave me additional strategies to deal with my pain. She told me that I could add ibuprofen to my pain management regime in addition to acetaminophen; ibuprofen is helpful in reducing inflammation. And she recommended an over-the-counter medication to deal with itch and irritation called Dermburo. It's a powder that is dissolved in boiling water. The cooled liquid can be applied to the radiated area via a sitz bath or a compress. It did calm the itch. I continue to use Flamazine, an antibiotic cream to guard against infection, and to take naps during the day.
Reflecting back on my "A better day" post, a friend had written to me then:
Something that resonates with me so much, and I am sure with almost everyone, is the struggle with loss of control. We are wired so much to be in control of our lives, and then something like this happens and we realize how vulnerable and fragile our bodies and lives really are, and how little control we actually have as human beings.
It's true that we often have no control over our bodies, including how they react to treatment. However, asking to see the nurse today was one small step I took to bring a little control back to my life. Sometimes I don't immediately ask for help because I conclude—often erroneously—that there's nothing more that can be done, and I just have to grin and bear it. But my radiation therapists Brenda and Dawn encouraged me to go see Hilary. And so I did. The pain management strategies Hilary gave me echoed similar ones that my niece (a nurse) had recommended to me last night. That reinforcing advice gave me the courage to buy and take the additional medication, something I am occasionally reluctant to do.
We can be our own cheerleaders in two ways. The first is by continuing to look on the bright side. A friend wrote to me today:
Not sure if this even applies for what you’re going through but I know "What you focus on expands"…find that one little place that doesn’t hurt and place your thoughts on it all that you can.
The fact that my ovarian cancer has not recurred is tremendously good news. And many parts of my body are working just fine despite the radiation. Those are positives I can focus on.
The second way we can be our own cheerleader is by asking questions and seeking help when we need it. In addition to meeting with Nurse Hilary, I had my monthly blood work related to ovarian cancer done at the Irving Greenberg Family Cancer Centre today. Given how challenging it is for me to get around these days, I was pleased to have been able to get my blood work done at the same place as my radiation treatment, rather than having to travel to the Civic or General campuses of The Ottawa Hospital. All it took was a call to Nurse Jacinthe at The Ottawa Hospital's gynecologic oncology team to get a copy of my requisition sent to the Irving Greenberg Family Cancer Centre.
I'm feeling much more hopeful today than yesterday: my pain has lessened, my CA125 has been confirmed for another month, and I have new tools in my pain management toolbox.
22 down, 3 to go.
