[2023-07-29] Saturday Synopsis #54 and recovery day 22
Three-year anniversary
Three years ago today, I learned that I had ovarian cancer. What a journey I've been on since then.
- July 29, 2020 - Trip to the Queensway-Carleton Hospital emergency department for what I thought was an issue with my gallbladder, only to leave 10 hours later with a diagnosis of ovarian cancer.
- August 28, 2020 - Surgery to remove my ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, cervix, omentum and too many cancerous tumours for the surgeon to bother counting.
- October 1, 2020 - First of six rounds of chemotherapy to deal with the smaller tumours left behind after surgery.
- October 16, 2020 - Notice that my tumours contained a mutation in the BRCA2 gene.
- January 14, 2021 - Final round of chemotherapy—time to ring the Bell of Hope.
- February 12, 2021 - Start of the drug olaparib (Lynparza), a PARP inhibitor designed to keep cancerous tumours from developing.
- March 25, 2021 - Confirmation that the BRCA2 gene mutation was in all my cells, which was both good news (opened up treatments for ovarian cancer) and bad news (put me at a 50-85% risk of developing breast cancer).
- November 15, 2021 - Surgery for perianal skin cancer, not related to my ovarian cancer.
- January 5, 2022 - First of 25 rounds of radiation to my pelvis to deal with precancerous cells that remained after my surgery.
- February 8, 2022 - Final round of radiation—time to ring another bell of celebration.
- July 7, 2023 - Surgery: prophylactic bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction.
Each one of these dates is etched in my mind. Perhaps it's like this for many cancer patients. We remember when we were diagnosed, when we started or finished treatment, when we got good or bad news. Of course, what this short list doesn't convey are the hundreds of appointments, diagnostic tests (blood work, CT scans, ultrasounds, mammograms, MRIs), treatments and recovery days.
On the other hand, this list also doesn't convey all the wonderful moments I have enjoyed in the last three years. Wedding my husband and benefiting from his unwavering support through three years of medical appointments, painful procedures, multiple recoveries and visits to emergency departments. Spending time with my family and watching my kids become even more responsible, independent and caring individuals than they were before. Developing closer ties with family members. Receiving the care of countless healthcare professionals—many of whom were like angels. Deepening relationships with friends, reigniting relationships with friends with whom I had lost touch, and making new friends. Writing more than 1,000 posts in this blog, which was therapy for me and, I hope, instructional for others. Knowing that my story, my perspective and my experience are relevant and useful to others, including many people who have developed cancer after me. Receiving thousands of gifts—both tangible and intangible—from thousands of people over the past three years, including food, books, flowers, activities, walks, calls, cards, emails, texts, and comments in social media. All of this has sustained and uplifted me through all the hard moments. I thank you.
Recovery day 22
Today has been another pyjama day, though I must say that it's easier to spend the day at home—in bed or in the kitchen—on a cloudy, cool day than on a sunny, warm day. My daughter and I made Healthier Blueberry Greek Yogurt Muffins this morning. I did the easy parts, which reminded me of my first attempts at baking after my ovarian cancer surgery. We ate muffins for lunch. Why not?
I woke up in a sweat, something that rarely happens. My sleep wasn't great, but I managed to nap in the morning. I tried lying on my left side figuring that my drain site would have healed since having my drain removed five days ago, but it was still uncomfortable.
My right breast remains red and a little swollen, but it doesn't appear to be getting worse. My temperature hovers just below or just above a fever reading. And while I don't have the energy (or desire) to go for a walk, I am mentally and emotionally strong.
Saturday Synopsis
The first entry in this week's Saturday Synopsis is cheating since it doesn't come from this week one or two years ago. It's a post I came across while preparing today's article and it seems particularly relevant to where I am at this moment. Consider it a bonus.
The cloudy day beckoned me to curl up under a warm duvet with a book. I chose The Pocket Pema Chödrön, which a friend sent to me early in my cancer journey. Pema Chödrön is a Buddhist nun based in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. I had started her book when I received it, but finished it only this afternoon. Three key concepts have emerged for me:
- Life is both sweet and bitter, glorious and wretched.
- No matter the circumstances, we can learn from what's happening right now in our lives.
- The difficult moments in life can soften us, make us kinder and help us to better support others.
3 Ideas From Me
I do have new places to go and new stories to live. I'll take the advice of others to slow down as I experience those new places and live those new stories. One friend shared a beautiful analogy: "NOW you can ‘put your indicator on’, get off the highway and onto a ‘quieter road’… one still full of hills and valleys and great adventures." As I travel those hills and valleys, experiencing whatever adventures life has in store for me, I will continue to take you along. As long as I find folks who will read my stories, I will keep writing them.
I also tend to quickly forget physical pain but remember vividly the people and circumstances that comforted me, uplifted me and healed me. I recall all the healthcare professionals who supported me and especially those who shared my enthusiasm for any sign of positive progress. I remember everyone who expressed sorrow that I was facing cancer, offered encouragement during my treatment, and told me that sharing my story was having a positive impact on them. I rejoice in all the connections I have developed and deepened with family members, immediate and extended, with friends, old and new, with colleagues, past and present, and with strangers who take inspiration, joy or solace from the story of my cancer journey.
Help ensure women's voices are heard. In meetings, sit at the centre of the conference table, as opposed to the ends, and encourage female colleagues to do the same. If a woman is interrupted, interject with "I'd like to hear Mary finish." If a coworker takes over a woman's idea, say, "I support this idea and appreciate Glenda's having raised it." If a woman is trying to get into the conversation, note, "I believe Jacinthe has something to offer." If another woman has made a great point that has gone unnoticed, build on her idea, stating, "I support Ellen's view and would add."
2 Quotes From Others
Some of the kindest souls I know have lived in a world that was not so kind to them. Some of the best human beings I know have been through so much at the hands of others, and they still love deeply, they still care. Sometimes, it's the people who have been hurt the most who refuse to be hardened in this world, because they would never want to make another person feel the same way they have felt. If that isn't something to be in awe of, I don't know what is.
~ Bianca Sparacino
I am at a place in life where peace is a priority. I deliberately avoid certain people and situations to protect my mental, emotional, and spiritual state.
~ Peaceful Mind Peaceful Life (Instagram account)
1 Question For You
Now, two years later, my ovarian cancer has been treated and is at bay, and a second cancer—perianal skin cancer—has been treated and likely cured. Many of the questions we had two years ago (what stage was my cancer, would it respond to treatment, would I live for months or years) have since been answered. Uncertainties remain, but that is true for everyone.
What is something that you were uncertain about in the past, but turned out better than you thought?
