My Life-After-Cancer-Choose-Your-Own-Adventure-Journey

As I approach the two-year anniversary of the onset of my cancer treatment (which, thankfully, also means we’ll be approaching my two-year anniversary of having it all completed and behind me…), I’ve been able to step back and truly figure out where I am in my journey. Common sense dictates that my cancer journey should officially be over but I’ve come to realize that common sense is not always so common.

Although having cancer was merely one chapter within my journey, I’ve come to realize that, similar to a “choose-your-own-adventure” book, that chapter has greatly influenced the direction of the current and future journeys.

One of the things I’m certain about is that life is filled with uncertainties. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. I don’t even know how I’m going to feel about whatever it is that does happen. What I do know, however, is that life is an adventure – and I’m going to do whatever I can to choose the pages that send me down the path towards the ‘happily ever after’.

My hair grows incredibly slowly. After a year and half it still isn’t anywhere near I thought it would be and every time I look in the mirror I still think “in progress”.
But it is growing and it’s long enough to get messed up in the wind on a beautiful summer day.

My body hasn’t fully bounced back from the weight gained during my treatment.
But I’m here and I’m healthy and there aren’t tons of deadly drugs or radiation waves flowing through me anymore.

I still have residual numbness and lack of strength in my arm from my surgery.
But my arms are still strong enough to wrap around all of the people I love in my life.

I can’t help but see my scars and radiation tattoos every single day that serve as constant and permanent reminders of what I’ve been through.
But they are also permanent reminders of what I survived.

I can’t hear phrases like “two-time cancer survivor” or “three-time cancer survivor” or stories about people who have been forced to endure this journey more than once without  feeling the pain through my very core.
But I choose to focus on the word “survivor” and how important it is for me to be grateful for where I am in life right now.

I still have days where I feel sad and think about everything I lost since being diagnosed with cancer – friends, strength and the belief that things like that “can’t happen to me”.
But more often than not I have days where I’m extremely grateful when I think about everything I have gained since being diagnosed with cancer – friends, strength and the knowledge that things like that can happen to me… and I’m stronger for it.

There are days where I still wake up feeling somewhat lost and sad.
But I wake up.

It can be incredibly frustrating to have things like this just “happen” to a person, with no choice in the matter.
But I can choose to focus on what I can control – my passions in life, my happiness, my love for my friends & family… That’s an adventure I would choose every single time.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Cancer Clinic...

Let me start off by saying Cancer sucks. Plain and simple. From diagnosis to treatment to aftermath, there is absolutely nothing enjoyable about having Cancer. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy and I cross my fingers every day that I never have to embark on this journey again.

That being said, I truly believe in the power of the mind-body connection. If you want to start feeling better, start thinking better. It may not completely cure what ails you but, really, can it hurt?

My own personal Cancer journey was full of many emotions – sadness, frustration, anger, fear… but anyone who knows me even a little will know that it was also filled with laughter. I don’t know if laughter really is the best medicine, but speaking from experience, it beats chemo hands-down!

So why was I smiling as I went through one of the toughest eight months of my life?

• How many places can you go and have virtually everyone continually tell you how young you are?
• Nothing gets the older crowd in the waiting room talking like showing up in a bright orange raincoat & leopard-print rain boots - no sensible shoes here!
• “Preferred parking” at the hospital’s Cancer clinic – score!
• Finding a discarded receipt at the parking machine for more than yours was for – yahoo!
• Free coffee from the bald guy at the local coffee shop – solidarity, brother!
• Think of all the money you save on hairdresser’s & esthetician’s costs!
• Getting trapped in underground parking can be an experience - did you know you can have quite a lovely conversation with the person on the other end of the "Help" button?
• Ever wonder if you could rock a “GI-Jane” look? Now you know!
• Do you have any idea how quickly I can get ready in the morning – goodbye, blow dryer!
• When else can you eat a full meal of chocolate milk & powdered donuts and not have one person raise an eyebrow??
• When people say they like your hair, how often can you take it off and let them try it for themselves?
• Months of lying in bed watching HGTV makes one heck of a “Honey-Do” reno list!
• There is no better time to immerse yourself in some full-character Sinead O’Connor-style karaoke…
• My amazing nurses’ names were “Joy” and “Bliss” – seriously, can you have better karma than that?

So do any of these reasons offset the physical or emotional suffering? Absolutely not. But if you’re able to smile for even a few moments throughout the darkest moments of your life, isn’t that already a victory?

After the Happily Ever After

Once upon a time there was an evil disease that invaded a body and ravaged a family. In response, many of the local villagers banded together to defeat the evil disease and declare the body a safe and happy place once again. The disease was gone, the villagers cheered and everyone lived happily ever after.

Like most well-known fairy tales, people assume the story ends there. But did you ever wonder what happened after the happily ever after?

In some ways, my cancer journey was like a story – not necessarily a great bedtime-read, mind you, but there was a ‘good vs. evil’ plot, a battle, and a victorious finish.

I’ve learned, however, that the ‘happily ever after’ we were all working towards is not exactly as comforting as originally written. What if “after-cancer” is just as difficult as “having cancer”? Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely thrilled and that the surgery is done, the invasive treatments are done, the brutal symptoms and side effects are done – and now I’m happy, healthy and on the ‘winning’ side of this crazy battle. 

Here’s my problem – for someone that’s as Type A as myself, even though the cancer journey was absolutely horrible and I never want to go through it again, I was still able to find elements of comfort within it:

I could still work the disease and all things surrounding it into some sort of controlled schedule – my life and my calendar were full of various doctor’s appointments and treatment dates.
I came to know which days I would feel more like myself and which days I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed.
I could still quarterback plans and playdates to keep my beautiful boy busy and distracted on the really tough days.
I was still able to prop myself up with my laptop and my cell phone and continue working on most days throughout the process.

In short, I was still able to “be me” and feel like I still had some element of control, even though I was in the midst of something that seemed to be beyond my control. I had a goal and a focus every day – concentrate on one day at a time, one treatment at a time, and appreciate how much closer to the end goal that brought us all to. I was surrounded by an amazing support network that continued to visit/call/email/bring meals/cheer on/check-in throughout the entire process, and I’m so fortunate to have had that. Doctors and nurses were checking in on me all the time and letting me know how I was doing, how the treatment was going, etc. Really, I was far too busy to ever be worried or wonder what life was going to be like after it all ended – the goal was just to get to the end.

Well, here we are at the infamous ‘end’. Hoping to be cancer-free and ‘back to normal’. Here at my own ‘happily ever after’. Yet now, more than ever, I find myself feeling scared, unsure and alone, with the question “What now” echoing loudly and drowning out many other thoughts in my head.

Now I’m learning that the post-cancer experience isn’t quite like they depict it in the movies. I didn’t get that chance to sit across from my doctor, anxiously awaiting the words “Congratulations – you’re cancer-free”. I pictured sitting there with my husband, letting tears of joy & relief stream down my face as we hugged and thanked her for all she had done for us. In reality, it felt more like a “good luck to you” send-off, complete with a “We don’t test to see if you have it anymore but let us know if you have any symptoms” finale. Really? After all we’ve been through, that’s it? Not even a high-five or a balloon?

Now I have time to truly process everything I’ve gone through. Previously I was far too busy & focused to be sad, scared, or introspective – now I’ve got nothing but time to field these thoughts and feelings that keep washing over me and figure out what the heck to do with them.

Now the daily ‘check-ins’ and support are less frequent (as they should be, of course!) which leave me feeling less distracted and, at times, more alone.

Now I’m mourning friendships and relationships that didn’t survive the bumpy road I found myself on.

Now I’m acutely aware of stories about people whose cancer continues to return – those who successfully battle it time & time again, and those who were sadly unable to claim victory once again.

Now I’m not working anymore and I desperately miss the routine, the outlet and the camaraderie that meant so much to me during these difficult months.

Now I’m learning that getting my body and my mind to get back into total alignment (or something close to it) is trickier than it looks. My mind says “We’re done, we’re healthy, we’ve spent far too much time in a horizontal position lately and we need to get back into shape!” My body, on the other hand, says “We don’t have the energy, we’re still reeling from the last year or so, we need to ease back into things.”

Now I feel like I’m supposed to have learned numerous life-lessons throughout this journey designed to “make a difference” or “ensure my life really matters” – a lot of pressure if you’re not sure how to do that.

Now I understand with every fibre of my being that life is short and can have its own agenda, despite all of our best-laid plans and preparations. It’s so incredibly hard not to be absolutely terrified about the prospect of not being there for those people who mean the most to me.

So there you have it – a lot of “what now’s” that you may not expect to run across when you begin your “once upon a time”. Does that mean I don’t believe in happy endings? Absolutely not – the most important “what now” I have taken away from all of this is that now I am extremely aware of all of the things in life that are beyond my control – but also that there are still things that I CAN control. I can control my reactions to what happens in life and I can choose to appreciate where life has taken me. Perhaps this story isn’t over after all – and now it’s time for me to figure out how that next chapter will go…

Cancer doesn't discriminate

When I shared my “D-Day” (aka “Diagnosis Day”) details with my friends and family last year, the overriding response was “Why you?”. No one in my family has ever had cancer; I work out 2-3 times a week; I eat relatively healthy (hey, I even willingly ate kale!); and have never suffered more than a cold throughout my entire life. So admittedly, I was on the “Why me” train with the rest of them.

Here’s what the past year has taught me – why NOT me? Cancer doesn’t read the checklists. It doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if the “rules” show that you shouldn’t have it. It doesn’t care that you weren’t planning to get sick. It doesn’t care that you didn’t see this coming. It doesn’t care if you don’t feel strong enough to deal with it. It doesn’t care if you have a lifetime of plans and goals ahead of you still to achieve. It doesn’t care whether you’re young, old or somewhere in between. It doesn’t care if you have a loving partner or supportive friends & family that count on you. It doesn’t care if you have children at home who could not (and should not) have to imagine a life without you. It has its own agenda and truly couldn’t care less about yours.

So if these checklists don’t mean as much as we thought they did, we really only have two options. Continue to bemoan our fate and worry on what should or shouldn’t be… or make a new checklist. A checklist that allows us to take some of the power back and focus on the things that we CAN control. We fight for – and enjoy – every single minute we have.

We fight even harder knowing that there are things beyond our control.

We continue to build our bodies to be “un-cancer-friendly” environments.

We eat the foods that make cancer run in the opposite direction.

We work out to make sure our bodies are ready to fight off any intruder.

We go for regularly scheduled doctor’s appointments and we do self-exams on a regular basis.

We make sure our heads are not stuck in the sand somewhere and we arm ourselves with the knowledge that makes us powerful.

We listen to our bodies and appreciate them for all that they are and all that they give us.

We look around us and make sure we are surrounded by a positive, loving, support network.

We make sure to let this support network know how much they mean to us.

We recognize that every day is a gift and it is our choice every single day to decide whether to celebrate it or take it for granted.

We make a conscious effort not to ‘sweat the small stuff’ – compared to the thought of not being there for your family and loved ones, does anything else truly compare?

If cancer doesn’t read the checklists, then maybe it’s time to focus on a different list. Perhaps instead of focusing on the question of “Why me” we should simply focus our energies on “Me”…

Why You May Not Get a Thank You From Me

There are times when it’s extremely difficult to find words that accurately convey a certain thought or feeling – even for me! Sometimes in the act of looking at the words themselves, you’re left with a feeling that something’s just “missing”. Such is the case when I read these two words:

Thank you

Now, this phrase is one that shouldn’t be unfamiliar to most people (although, sadly, I have encountered my share of people who could use a quick refresher!), yet somehow when I look at it, it’s just not enough. I’ve tried thanks, gracias, danke, merci, mahalo, grazie, much obliged, cheers, and even “back at ya” but no luck.

Over the last 10 months, I have been so incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by acts of kindness from friends, family, acquaintances and even strangers. Cancer can be extremely isolating, yet somehow the whole “it takes a village” philosophy stood up, took over and surrounded us with support and love that was truly beyond my comprehension. For Type A personalities like me, it can be extremely difficult to hand over the reins and ask for help at any point, even when faced with a challenge like facing – and beating – cancer. It can be extremely easy to push people away in an attempt to prove how strong, independent and capable a person can still be.

I’m so glad my ‘village’ didn’t listen.

So even though these two words will never fully convey the sincere appreciation, gratitude and love behind them, I would be remiss not to take the opportunity to provide a special “shout out” to the best support network a person could have.

Thank you for the countless emails, cards, voicemail messages, tweets and more that not only served as a continued reminder of the support that surrounded me but also kept me engaged and connected with the ‘real world’.

Thank you for the amazing meals, snacks and desserts that magically appeared on my doorstep a few times a week during times of intense treatments. It was such a relief to have one less thing to worry about – and has now become quite a challenge as I attempt to replicate some of the incredible meals we were all treated to!

Thank you for the random surprise gifts that showed up on occasion – the lattes & lemon poppyseed loaves, the books, magazines & DVDs, the bottles of wine, the chocolate treats, the “just because” gifts… All the things that somehow miraculously arrived when I was at my lowest points and served their purpose by lifting my spirits to get through another day… with a smile.

Thank you to the incredibly talented individuals in my life who shared their gifts with us by capturing positive memories during a less-than-ideal time. From beautiful family portraits at the onset of the journey to celebratory pictures commemorating the end of the treatment process, I felt so incredibly blessed to have our lives documented in such a creative and amazing fashion – by such creative and amazing individuals.

Thank you for the company – whether it was catching a ride to various treatments or appointments, or just hanging out on the couch watching bad TV, it’s an incredibly comforting experience to pass such unpleasant times with such amazing people.

Thank you to those people who just “did” rather than “asked”. Now don’t get me wrong – when your life is in constant turmoil, any positive thought, energy and prayer is always appreciated. And sometimes it can be difficult to know what people truly want or need. But it was such a relief for me (in a weird non-Type A sort of way) to just have things done for me, rather than have to figure out what could be done. Not having to schedule, ask or even think can definitely be a blessing!

Thank you for remembering my family – the phone calls & emails to my rockstar husband just to make sure he was alright and had someone to talk to if he needed it; the playdates, activities & even little gifts for my amazing little boy so that his world could remain as “normal” and “fun” as possible. After spending so much time as the unwanted centre of attention, it meant so much to me that the two centres of my world could take their own much-deserved turn on the pedestal.

Thank you for keeping things normal – when something shakes up the normal routines of life like this, it can be quite normal for all thoughts, activities and conversations to revolve around the situation at hand. Obviously, I have had no problem discussing any part of my journey to-date, however it’s definitely a welcomed change of pace to chat about the crummy weather, bratty kids or the crazy lineup at the drive through. Just because my “normal” was put on hold, doesn’t mean anyone else’s has to be – it’s nice to stay connected.

So there you have it – some of the countless reasons why “thank you” just doesn’t cut it. This is the reason why all of the incredible people in my world who helped us through this won’t get a thank you. Instead, please know that you have touched my life and my heart with your kindness and have helped to make this journey memorable for the right reasons, rather than the painful ones.


 “The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.” Oscar Wilde

*Photo credit: www.tumblr.com