Nightmares are back...

I have been dealing with nightmares (and night terrors) for a few years now. They go along with the territory of my insomnia and other issues that I have with sleeping. As disturbing as they are, I've gotten used to having them. They upset me, to be clear. But I have simply accepted them as part of my life and I keep it moving. Because I know that they exist in my world, I tend to dismiss them pretty quickly and keep it moving.

Except when I can't. And then I find myself mad, upset and just plain angry for days on end. Usually with a little pity party thrown on top at the end of all that angst.

I had a doozy of a nightmare the other night and that sucker has stuck to me for the past few days. The dream hasn't repeated itself but the fear it triggered is deeply real and I simply cannot shake it.

I've been experiencing some interesting symptoms in my body lately. It just occured to me after this nightmare that these symptoms may be indicative of a different cancer. Or it could be something else entirely different.  Either way, its not cool. I am working on not being a hypochondriac just because I am a cancer survivor. But walking the fine line between being fully aware and conscious within my body and freaking out over every small thing has been a difficult challenge for me. So, the nightmare that I had the other night triggered my deep fears about cancer recurrence and succumbing to another and different type of cancer.

I bawled like a baby when I woke up with a scream in my throat. I burst into tears later that day when the thought of that nightmare came back to me. And, in all honesty, I'm pretty damn close to tears right now as I write this post.

I hate cancer. I hate that I have friends who have gone through this madness multiple times. I hate that for some of us, the medicine they use to treat our cancer can be (in some cases) attributed to our getting a different type of cancer. I try to be strong most days. I really do. I believe that for the most part, I'm good at looking at the bright side of life and accepting that right now I am doing well. But, the what if's hound me.

As much as I can look back on my life these past few years and see that I came through a great storm and know that I'm okay... I will honestly tell you that if I never have to receive another chemotherapy infusion again in my life, I will be even better. If I never have to hear the words "you have cancer" again, I'll feel blessed beyond measure. And while I know that having cancer doesn't have to be the end of the world... I know that for many of us, it is.

I'm scared. I really am. No matter how much I look at my life and smile, that fear is always near by. Always.

My auntie who is also my sister, will be okay

This past weekend was Thanksgiving and I had a wonderful time visiting with my family members who came up for the holiday. One of the guests was my auntie who is also a breast cancer survivor. She was diagnosed with breast cancer 5 years ago, and just as she passed her 5 year mark... she was diagnosed with a recurrence in her other breast.

Her cancer was not advanced as mine -- either occurrence -- and she has not had a mastectomy like I have. But we are now sisters (pink ribbon sisters) as well as auntie and niece. Breast cancer has joined us together in a way that nothing else ever could. We talked about different parts of our journey after dinner on Thursday as we sat around the table (just the girls) talking while the guys watched football. At one point, my mom commented that she hoped to never go through what we've been through. And we both replied... we hope that you don't have to either.

Its not that you can't get through breast cancer... you can. Millions of us do every day. But you lose a bit (ok, a lot) along the way and you're not the same at the end. Which I suppose is the point... but its still unsettling. And the real truth is that not everyone makes it. That's where the fear lies.

It was the first time I've seen her since I heard about her recurrence and it was a relief to see her smile and laugh and be happy. Even as she prepares to start her radiation therapy in the next few days. She was in great spirits and told me that her recurrence was found so early that she won't have to undergo chemotherapy this time. Just radiation treatment.

I was happy to see her, happy to hear her prognosis and just happy all around to spend time with her. But this morning, as I hugged her goodbye... I felt a small twinge in my heart. It never gets easier... It may disappear for awhile -- where you don't think about it every moment of every day -- but whenever I learn that someone has been diagnosed with breast cancer, I shed a tear. Every time.

My auntie will be fine. I am quite confident of that. But, just as I was afraid before I started my treatment, I am concerned for her. Radiation is tough. It tires your body immensely, the burns on your skin are more than unpleasant and its tedious. Every day, for weeks on end... its like a job. And its not a job that you can quit because you don't like it -- well, you could but how risky is that? How smart is that?

Talking to my auntie reminded me of all that I went through over the past two years. Just as I thought I had turned a corner and wasn't emotional about this journey any longer... the reality of all that happened hit me this afternoon like a ton of bricks on my head. The fear, the anger, the confusion... all of it... came rushing back like a strong wind. My prayer for her is that the journey will be easy for her this time, and that they get all of the cancer that is there. My prayer for myself is that I remember that God brought me this far... and I'm going to be okay. My prayer for all of my pink ribbon sisters and brothers (and their families and friends) is that we find a cure for this disease... and soon.

How do I measure up?

In a few days I will be seeing my oncologist for a follow-up appointment. I haven't seen Dr. S in about 6 months and I am actually excited. My oncologist is a very nice man... and he is exceptional at what he does. Making very sick people better.

When I first met Dr. S, I only knew what I had been told about him from another doctor and what I found from a google search. He exceeded my expectations. The physicians that I know personally (friends and family members) are wonderful, warm and easy to talk to. But I tend to think of them as the exception to the rule, rather than the standard. I expected Dr. S to be stiff and stuffy and to come across as arrogant and condescending. He was none of those things. And along the way, I developed a crush of sorts on him.

I don't mean that I thought of the man in a romantic way. But I felt very comforted by him. I never felt that he was trying to take advantage of me -- or of my health insurance. I always felt that he listened to me and that when I expressed fear or concern about something, he took it seriously. We had a great rapport. That said... I've missed him, and the other members of the oncology team during the past few months. They were my safety net and now they are gone. Its a little scary out here on my own.

I know that I will have to take a lot of tests and I will have to remember to tell him all the things that I have noticed about myself since my last visit. But what I really will be interested in knowing is how I measure up. Am I making good progress in my healing? I think so... but what will the numbers show? Is my fear of recurrence rational? Probably not... but its still there.

I know that comparing yourself to others is not a great way to go through life. There will always be someone prettier, smarter, taller/shorter, wealthier... something... than you are. Getting comfortable and excited about who you are is the goal. I know this and yet, I am still very concerned about how I will measure up next week.

I'll keep you posted about what I learn. Say a prayer and keep your fingers crossed that I never ever have to hear the words... "Ms. McLean, you have cancer" again.

BOOK REVIEW: Promises to Keep

A few months ago I was contacted by a publishing house and asked to read and review an upcoming book. Since I love FREE things and I was immensely flattered by the request, I accepted the book and promised to review it here.

I did read the book when I received it, but I couldn't review it right away because it bothered me. I wasn't sure that I could give a good review that wasn't harsh or unflattering. I wanted to be honest because I know how much work goes into the writing and publishing of a book... but I didn't want to be mean.

That said... "Promises to Keep" by Jane Green is a good book. And no, I'm not just saying that because one of the main characters is a breast cancer survivor. It honestly is a good book. It disappointed me because I expected the book to be more about the woman with breast cancer and less about everyone else in her life... but it wasn't.

A little background:  Jane Green is one of the first women to step into the chick-lit genre and really make a killing. Her book sales are large and she has a huge fan following. I was truly excited to read this story that was loosely based on her own experiences losing a close friend to breast cancer. As a survivor, I was looking forward to seeing and learning how this disease affects the people around you. In that regard, it didn't disappoint. I did learn how it affected her parents, her husband, her kids, her sister and her best friend. I just didn't learn enough.

Just a little bit of insight about "Promises to Keep":

From Publishers Weekly


In Green's 12th novel, Callie Perry is a happily married photographer with two wonderful kids, a lovable sister, Steffi, and a best friend, Lila. Problems are minor: Steffi can never settle down, Lila has finally found love but the guy has a nightmare of an ex, and Callie and Steffi's divorced parents haven't spoken in 30 years. But then Callie, a breast cancer survivor, is diagnosed with a rare and incurable complication of the disease. Suddenly realizing that she has only months to live, she begins the painful process of saying good-bye. While the subject matter is intense and personal, it's far from depressing; the characters are warm, funny and realistic. Green (The Beach House) manages to create an authentic tale of a woman who truly loves her life and family and is trying to do the right thing for them before she dies. While Green breaks up her chapters with recipes (presumably because Steffi is a cook), this peculiar modern conceit in women's literature feels like a misstep. Overall, Green once again delivers an enjoyable emotional story. (June)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist

Callie Perry seems to have it all: a handsome husband she adores, two adorable children, and a thriving business as a portrait photographer. A battle with breast cancer four years ago only made her marriage to Reece stronger, but the couple faces a major setback when agonizing headaches and a frightening blackout send Callie back to the hospital soon after celebrating her forty-third birthday. While Callie's oncologist tries to determine if her cancer has returned, her family rallies around her. Her younger sister, Steffi, a successful chef, has recently traded a fast-paced life in New York City for a quieter one in Sleepy Hollow in order to reassess her priorities. Callie and Steffi's father, Warren, has barely been able to be in the same room with their mother, Honor, since she left him; but news of Callie's plight brings him rushing to her bedside. Inspired by a friend's battle with cancer, Green's story definitely has the emotional heart and resonance to hook readers of women's fiction. --Kristine Huntley

I know that chick-lit is supposed to be pretty light and fluffy... interesting character sketches that appeal to women. But this story fell flat for me. Maybe I am too self-focused to understand but it was as though this woman's death was almost an inconvenience for the people in her life. Everyone had their own baggage and stuff to work through... and while they were sad that she was dying of cancer, they seemed to function okay. Not what I was expecting.

That said... if you're into chick-lit, if you're a Jane Green fan, and if you are interested in seeing how the caregivers deal with someone they love dying of breast cancer... this is a good story for all of that. I just think (actually, I just wish) that Jane had dug a lot deeper into the emotional baggage surrounding the disease and the anticipation of the death of a loved one. I think it would have made a more compelling story. As it is... I felt that she applied too light of a touch to the story. I felt that the person who was dealing with the breast cancer recurrence was the only one who experienced any real depth of emotions and honestly, I know better.

The people who love you through your treatment and afterwards, go through emotional highs and lows on par with yours as the patient. Please believe that. Chick-lit isn't supposed to be deep, I know that... so I think my expectations were misplaced and that's why I was somewhat disappointed with this book. One story that I read a few years ago, about a mother dealing with a bi-polar child... really took me through the emotional highs and lows of the caregiver of someone dealing with a life-altering illness. I expected "Promises to keep" to be on par with "72 Hour Hold".   But sadly, it didn't go far enough into the pain that I'm sure was felt by everyone.

It was a good story but not a GREAT story. But then again, maybe I'm biased because I've been through the breast cancer struggle and I know the impact my illness had (and still has) on my close friends and family members. Check it out for yourself and let me know what you think.

The other day, my knees buckled...

I received some news that nearly broke me the other day. Someone I love dearly just found out that her breast cancer has returned. When I heard the news... my knees buckled. It took a minute for the full impact of what was shared actually hit me. But once it did... my knees buckled and I fell to the side of my bed and cried.

I wailed. I sobbed. My heart felt like it expanded and then cracked into a million little pieces. This woman means a lot to me (I'm being purposely vague because I'm not sure who else knows this news) and one of our last conversations was about how she had just reached her 5 year mark (surviving-5-years-after-breast-cancer)  and we were excited and happy. I remember big smiles and hugs when she told me.

I was happy for her because her good health made it more real that I would have good health. If she's okay... then I'm going to be okay.

But now, she's not okay. When I say that my knees buckled... I mean that everything started swimming around me, I lost focus, I lost the ability to stand... my chest started heaving... I completely lost it for a moment. I crawled back into bed and just cried. I cried for her. I cried for myself. I cried for all the other pink ribbon sisters out there who have heard similar news and just wondered "why me, why again?"... Mostly, I cried for myself though.

Because, just like many of my readers gain strength from the words that I share here... I gain strength from the women walking this path before me. As I see them continuing to walk into their futures, I feel more confident that my future will be just as good. Their return to health and vitality gives me permission to believe that I will be just fine. And when someone you love finds out that the battle isn't over... you get scared.

I am scared.

giving my martini the side eye... why drinking and breast cancer don't mix

Excuse me. Have we met? My name is Nicole... and I truly enjoy a good alcoholic beverage.

I mean... FOR REAL. Like, I want to be a bartender in my next life... that's how much I enjoy alcohol. (laughs)

I keep trying to ignore everything I've read that links breast cancer to alcohol consumption. Its not working for me. Here's the issue:  a study was released in December that shows an increase in breast cancer recurrence in women who consume more than 3 drinks per week. [alcohol-raises-risk-of-breast-cancer-recurrence]

** side eye **

I can drink three GOOD drinks in one evening... and still want more.

I can drink three GREAT DRINKS several times a week and not feel badly about it.

(sigh)

I like a good drink. It makes me happy. Puts a really good slick smile on my face. Sort of like this one:

You know... happy, giggly, carefree, bubbly. But now it seems that those three drinks might rush my death. Is that unfair or what? Sheesh.

Alcohol increases the amount of estrogen in your body. My cancer was estrogen driven. Adding alcohol to my body is defeating the purpose of the tamoxifen, and putting myself at a higher risk of having my cancer return. Sad, right? One of the great pleasures (for me) of being an adult, is indulging in adult activities... like having an adult beverage whenever I feel like it.

I am a social drinker. I rarely drink at home. It just doesn't have the same joy for me. But when I'm out with friends (or even alone) I definitely enjoy alcoholic beverages. I have to switch gears now and get adjusted to socializing with mocktails.

I'm trying not to be too down about the link between alcohol and breast cancer. I am trying to look at it in a different way. But I have to be honest, this will be one change that will definitely take some serious effort to overcome.

Cheers!

PS. I don't wanna hear nothing if you see me out with a drink in my hand. Nothing. (laughs)