My Truth About Cancer

When I started this blog, I swore I wouldn’t stop updating on a regular basis once I was remission and feeling like myself again, because being a cancer patient/survivor doesn’t end with remission. One of the many truths that I’ll share in this post, though, is that you have to carry on with your “normal”/pre-cancer life once you go into remission. You have to go back (hopefully) to work, you can go outside and be around people again, and you are expected in some way to pick up where things left off. Believe me, I’m grateful to be able to do those things – it just means I haven’t had a lot of time to update the blog lately.

Since my last post, I had standard blood work and a check up with my hematology oncologist, and all is well. My counts were good – I’m still NED (no evidence of disease). For the first time since November of 2012 when I was diagnosed, I feel like myself. My energy level is good and the side effects are relatively minimal. My oncologist predicted it would take between 6-12 months after completing radiation before I felt relatively normal, and once again, he was right on the money – it was about 9 months that I noticeably felt better day to day. This is all great news, indeed. I’ll have another CT scan in July, and hopefully, I’ll get the news that I’m in remission for a year!

Even though I’m in remission, I am still involved in the young adult cancer community and raising awareness when/where I can. I’m particularly sensitive when I see stories on social media platforms that stretch the truth or flat out lie about cancer, as if scientific research isn’t heavily based in years and years of work and data collected, or as if everyone’s experience with cancer is uniform.

That’s why I was especially enraged when I saw a post going around Facebook and Twitter claiming that “John Hopkins” had released a “cancer update” last week. In the mid-2000s, this same update was circulated via email to the point where Johns Hopkins’ Kimmel Center, one of the most prestigious cancer centers in the world, had to release a statement explaining that this email was a hoax. Their release does an amazing job, not surprisingly, of dis-spelling the assertions made in this email point by point. I would encourage anyone who is interested in the details to follow the link provided by the Kimmel Center and read about the science behind cancer. In short, the main point of the hoax email was that traditional therapies (surgery, chemo and radiation) do not cure cancer, and cancer patients should try to manage the disease by altering their diet, among other truth stretching tidbits.

This thing has reared it’s ugly head yet again, and it’s driving me insane. Why give such a thing any credence by addressing it at all? I’ll tell you why – because when I was diagnosed and went “public” with my diagnosis, I received more than one email/Facebook message sharing information pulled from this stupid thing. Because of this hoax email, people I know suggested that I should explore other more natural/holistic options before “poisoning my body”. In fact, people I know told me stories about their friend’s husband’s co-worker’s son who had a completely different form of cancer from me. He was going to die(!), but he drank this herbal tea, extracted from the stem of an exotic melon or some such thing, and now he’s cancer free. I should totally drink the same thing and my cancer will go away!

Well, golly gee, problem solved!

I also got some variation on the “Don’t feed the beast by eating sugar!” warning – the thought behind that being that cancer cells “eat” sugar. If you eliminate the sugar in your diet, then you will starve the cancer cells and voila! Cancer free! The truth is that all cells metabolize sugars for energy, and it’s not really straight up sugar. It’s complex or simple carbohydrates, among other things, in anything that you eat that cells will metabolize. There’s no possible way to cut this out of your diet, unless you didn’t eat anything. At all.

By the way, guess what I ate first after my diagnosis? A big, delicious, chocolatey brownie. Because I was just diagnosed with cancer, that’s why.

Here’s the thing – spreading these kinds of anecdotes may feel like you’re doing the right thing. At it’s core, this email is just preaching the benefits of living a healthy lifestyle, right? The problem is, messages like this make cancer patients, or at least this one, feel like they neglected to do one or more of these things, which is why they got cancer in the first place. Plus, when you’re literally staring death in the face, the last thing you need is someone telling you about some cockamamie home remedy or that the entire cancer treatment system (so-called traditional treatments) is not going to work for you, or worse, is going to hurt more than help.

I should also say here that all of this, obviously, is my opinion/view point. I don’t hold any hostility towards patients who choose to go with these alternative routes. In fact, I know of a number of patients who chose them after traditional therapies didn’t work. I also know of patients who completely chose the holistic route based on their previously held beliefs, regardless of an email going around. Often times, these patients chose to see a naturopathic doctor, but at least they were under the care of a physician with training and education. I say that each patient has to make their own decisions on what is best for them and I don’t want to chastise patients who choose to go with the alternative routes. I do get frustrated when people who aren’t in any kind of position to be giving medical advice tell someone who is very sick to consider something that flies in the face of what their doctor tells them – just to avoid “poison” – when there is no medical basis in the advice. That is a scary thing.

So, keeping in mind that no one patient’s experience is like anyone else’s, here are MY truths about cancer:

1. There is NOTHING that I did or ate or drank that solely caused cancer (short of being a Caucasian woman in between the ages of 20-40 – the most likely group outside of the elderly to be diagnosed with DLBC NHL with a primary site in the mediastinum). I was 30 when I was diagnosed. There is almost nothing that I could have done in that relatively short period of time that caused my cancer occurrence. Believe me, I have asked my oncologist about this on multiple occasions, even though I know what the answer will be every time. Not a thing that I did – not standing in front of the microwave while it was on, not drinking from a plastic bottle, not eating a boatload of sugar every day (or even now and then), not using a cell phone, not drinking red wine or coffee, not NOT drinking red wine or coffee, not eating red meat, white meat, or any other kind of meat, not eating dairy (the horror!), or eating said dairy from a plastic utensil – has been directly shown to give someone my age a form of cancer. It’s just flat out not enough time to do that kind of harm. My case of cancer, and likely those of a lot of young adult patients (of which there are  about 70,000 diagnosed every year), was likely due to a combination of factors. I will readily admit that I don’t live the healthiest lifestyle. Was this a factor? Sure, possibly. But it definitely wasn’t the sole cause. I am sure that a good deal of it was just random genetic mutation and a whole lot of bad luck.

2. Traditional treatment did some horrible things to my body. The physical side effects of receiving traditional treatments – in my case, chemotherapy and radiation – were difficult and very real. Hair falling out was the least of my concerns, quite frankly. That was relatively painless. My scalp was sore for a few days prior and then my hair started falling out in clumps when I showered or brushed my hair. Sure, it’s superficially embarrassing to be a bald woman and it’s a daily reminder that you have cancer, but it’s easily covered up.

There were far worse things to tackle – biopsies, minor surgeries, horrible tastes in your mouth, fatigue from both chemo and radiation that was damn near overwhelming, random joint and bone pain, short term memory loss, and difficulty breathing/swallowing during radiation.

For me, though, the GI tract issues were by far the worst issue, at least physically. Nausea, vomiting, acid reflux, diarrhea, and constipation – it was different every day and there was no way to predict what would come next. Although I haven’t written about it, I will just say that having to give myself an enema was quite possibly the lowest point throughout the whole process. There is nothing like that experience to make you feel like a child again, and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. As if having the conversation with my oncologist (who I knew for about a month) wasn’t bad enough – “Gee, doctor, I haven’t pooped in about a week and things are getting mighty uncomfortable”. He prescribed me medications – none of them worked so there was only one option left. The only reason I could muster up the strength to do it myself was because I knew that I would end up in the hospital having someone else do it for me if I couldn’t pull the proverbial trigger. Absolutely horrifying and embarrassing. I even hate to write about it, but the truth of the matter is that this kind of stuff happens when you have cancer.

3. The emotional toll cancer, and treatment of it, takes on your life and relationships is just as bad as the physical toll, if not worse. Nothing shakes you to the core like hearing you have cancer. Or learning that the life saving treatment could prevent you from being able to have biological children of your own (although this is unlikely in my case) and that you might not have the six weeks to wait (or the exorbitant money) to go through the embryo preservation process. You are forced to face the possibility that you might not live long enough to share another holiday with your family. That’s certainly not a thought that you expect to have running through your head at 30 and it changes how you perceive the rest of your life.

3. There are long term physical and emotional issues on the horizon. I’m not entirely sure what the long term emotional issues will be, although I know for sure that I’m still sorting through everything and probably will be doing so for a long time to come. I constantly think about things like: who was there for me when I needed help? Who wasn’t? Why? Will my entire life always be lived in fear of a recurrence or secondary cancer? Will I ever be able to talk to someone who had or has cancer without feeling an immense amount of anxiety? I don’t know, but I do know that as a young adult patient, these thoughts could be something I have to deal with for a long time.

Because I was diagnosed at a young age, the possibility of a secondary diagnosis – lung or breast cancer – is a real possibility. However, chemo, and especially, radiation are much more advanced in their targeting capabilities now than they were years ago, contrary to what this hoax email would have you believe, so it’s tough to know what the likelihood is of that happening. More uncertainties, for sure.

4. I have some positive personal truths about cancer, too. Going through the diagnosis and treatment caused me to slow down, both physically and mentally. This period of my life was the first time in a very long time when I couldn’t do anything but relax and rest and I was remarkably calm. I had to relinquish control very quickly to my oncologists and there was some sense of relief in that. In a twisted way, I enjoyed having an excuse to just sleep, move slowly, and only do what absolutely had to be done. There were no feelings of guilt if I didn’t attend an event or do this, that or the other thing. That was so wonderfully freeing. No one had any expectations of me other than to focus singularly on my treatments and taking care of myself. I could read or watch TV without feeling an ounce of concern about what wasn’t getting done because I was doing that instead. I was also so exhausted that my mind just couldn’t go a mile a minute, which was pure bliss for someone with OCD on top of cancer.

5. It sounds cliche but having cancer and going into remission has quite truthfully encouraged me to be thankful for all the good things in my life, to focus on what is important and not take a thing for granted. I know now how quickly life can change, so I’m grateful for every good experience, opportunity, and relationship in my life. I’ve also tried to maintain some sense of calm, although the farther out I am, the harder it is to keep it up.

6. But my most important and “truthiest” truth about cancer? Traditional therapies, no matter how grueling in every possible way, saved my life. Six rounds of RCHOP and 22 radiation treatments to my chest took a lot out of, and from, me, but they gave me my life back. If I had to go back and do it again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

And that is my truth.

 

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