Today is Day 1 of the 2013 Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge (HAWMC). I took part in the challenge last year, too, so this is my second time at bat. The daily writing process last year was challenging and invigorating yet also very fun. My favorite part was bonding with other breast cancer bloggers. And I hope some of them will join me again this year! The HAWMC challenge forced me to write faster, and more frequently, and since I have trouble with both, it pushes me to be a better blogger. So I'm jumping in again and looking forward to where the month will lead! Let's get to it...
Healing and dealing with life after a breast cancer diagnosis.
Showing posts with label WEGO. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WEGO. Show all posts
Monday, April 1, 2013
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
IT'S NOT MY FAULT I GOT CANCER!
Day 17 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge and I'm writing about a lesson I learned the hard way:
That's right; it's not my fault. It's not yours either. Let me explain.
When people first hear you have the Big C, a self-protective cloak chokes their brains and hearts and tongues, making them think and feel (and sometimes say) some very stupid things to assure themselves that this cancer thing is just a blip on the screen. Such as: "They caught it early, right? You'll be fine!" or "They got it all, so stop worrying!" or "Well, if you're going to get cancer, breast cancer is the best kind to get!" to "Then you're cured, right?"
Part of the problem is that folks have an innate need to blame cancer on something. If we can attribute getting cancer to something someone did or didn't do, then cancer feels less out of control, less random, less likely to come our way. If we know why something happened, we can make sense of it. But it's really hard to make sense out of senseless things.
And that's exactly what cancer is: senseless. There is no reason for it. And that's a hard concept to wrap your head around. Just ask any cancer patient (or their friends and family). When cancer comes a callin', the fear affects everyone — infiltrating every relationship we have and pushing us all into some form of denial. We can't help it; if we don't detach from the fear, we will go mad.
As a cancer patient, I'm way ahead of you in the games of denial, shame and blame. I hitched a ride on that highway the minute I got "the call." But I re-learned an important lesson that is grounded in what I have always believed: that every woman, every man, every child is born into this world with a pot and a recipe. The pot is porous, the recipe inherited. Many of the ingredients are not generic, they're genetic.
Did you arrive with a BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene mutation? Maybe you have a faulty gene that's yet to be discovered. Whatever you've got, put it in the pot.
Next, pour in your environmental factors. This includes the air you breath, the water you drink, the food you eat (and the containers it is stored in) — not just now, or for the past 10 years — but for all time. Consider everything your mother ate, drank and inhaled while pregnant with you; her mother before her, and her mother before her. Put it all in the pot.
OK, ready to toss in the lifestyle choices you made as an adult (not realizing their long-term implications, of course)? For women, this includes whether you had children — and if you did, did you breast feed them? What about the birth control pills you took to keep from having kids in the first place? Risk factor. For the menopausal among us, did you take hormone replacement therapy? That ups your risk too. Put it in the pot.
Ah, exercise. Do you get enough of it? Did you work out consistently during your busy lifetime? (Gaining the Freshman 15 after 40 is not recommended, and I am guilty as charged.) Maintaining a healthy weight is tres important; so is not smoking, not drinking (ummm, about those college years ...) and choosing food not genetically modified or laced with pesticides or hormones or antibiotics. What about sleep? Did you get enough of that precious commodity? And don't forget your vitamins: Did you/do you take the whole recommended rainbow? Put 'um in the pot.
Let's not forget life's psychological impact — difficult relationships, depression, financial woes, loved ones dying or falling ill, unemployment, anxiety, loneliness, tyrannical bosses (just to name a few). Put it in the pot.
It's hard to keep calm and carry on; you need a mindfulness practice to level the stress field a bit. Are yoga and meditation in your recipe? What about whatever higher power you personally believe in (or not)? How does that influence the course of your life? Put it in the pot, turn up the heat, and put a lid on it.
Your cosmic soup is now complete.
Is it any wonder — after all that you put in your pot — that you got cancer? Sneaky, stinkin' cancer? Seems pretty clear to me that it's all your fault, right? Your hereditary recipe worked overtime to lower your resistance, causing your body to fight that much harder to fend off diseases — like cancer.
Aren't you forgetting that none of us make it to shore? We are all pre-programmed to die. (Hello!) No one comes with an extended warranty. It's all just a matter of how long we get to ride the wave. For some, its a surfer's paradise; for most, its more like navigating a tsunami.
So no, after all that, I do not believe that it's my fault that I got cancer. And I don't believe it is your fault that you got cancer either.
If "curing" cancer were as simple as living clean and stress-free and reducing the 'bad stuff' as much as possible — well, we would have a cure by now. The answer to cancer lies in finding a way to stop normal cells from going haywire and replicating in the first place. It's so much more complicated than eating organic and running a marathon.
In gambler's terms, cancer is the lousy luck of the draw. A total crap shoot. Not within your control. The quicker you let go of your guilt, the faster you can focus on what's really important. And only you know what that is.
It's not my fault I got cancer.
That's right; it's not my fault. It's not yours either. Let me explain.
When people first hear you have the Big C, a self-protective cloak chokes their brains and hearts and tongues, making them think and feel (and sometimes say) some very stupid things to assure themselves that this cancer thing is just a blip on the screen. Such as: "They caught it early, right? You'll be fine!" or "They got it all, so stop worrying!" or "Well, if you're going to get cancer, breast cancer is the best kind to get!" to "Then you're cured, right?"
Part of the problem is that folks have an innate need to blame cancer on something. If we can attribute getting cancer to something someone did or didn't do, then cancer feels less out of control, less random, less likely to come our way. If we know why something happened, we can make sense of it. But it's really hard to make sense out of senseless things.
And that's exactly what cancer is: senseless. There is no reason for it. And that's a hard concept to wrap your head around. Just ask any cancer patient (or their friends and family). When cancer comes a callin', the fear affects everyone — infiltrating every relationship we have and pushing us all into some form of denial. We can't help it; if we don't detach from the fear, we will go mad.
As a cancer patient, I'm way ahead of you in the games of denial, shame and blame. I hitched a ride on that highway the minute I got "the call." But I re-learned an important lesson that is grounded in what I have always believed: that every woman, every man, every child is born into this world with a pot and a recipe. The pot is porous, the recipe inherited. Many of the ingredients are not generic, they're genetic.
Are you female? That's a big risk factor for breast cancer. Put it in the pot.
Now drop in the age at which you started menstruating — the earlier you got your period, the more circulating hormones your body has been exposed to. That increases your breast cancer risk. Put that in the pot.
Next, pour in your environmental factors. This includes the air you breath, the water you drink, the food you eat (and the containers it is stored in) — not just now, or for the past 10 years — but for all time. Consider everything your mother ate, drank and inhaled while pregnant with you; her mother before her, and her mother before her. Put it all in the pot.
OK, ready to toss in the lifestyle choices you made as an adult (not realizing their long-term implications, of course)? For women, this includes whether you had children — and if you did, did you breast feed them? What about the birth control pills you took to keep from having kids in the first place? Risk factor. For the menopausal among us, did you take hormone replacement therapy? That ups your risk too. Put it in the pot.
Ah, exercise. Do you get enough of it? Did you work out consistently during your busy lifetime? (Gaining the Freshman 15 after 40 is not recommended, and I am guilty as charged.) Maintaining a healthy weight is tres important; so is not smoking, not drinking (ummm, about those college years ...) and choosing food not genetically modified or laced with pesticides or hormones or antibiotics. What about sleep? Did you get enough of that precious commodity? And don't forget your vitamins: Did you/do you take the whole recommended rainbow? Put 'um in the pot.
Let's not forget life's psychological impact — difficult relationships, depression, financial woes, loved ones dying or falling ill, unemployment, anxiety, loneliness, tyrannical bosses (just to name a few). Put it in the pot.
It's hard to keep calm and carry on; you need a mindfulness practice to level the stress field a bit. Are yoga and meditation in your recipe? What about whatever higher power you personally believe in (or not)? How does that influence the course of your life? Put it in the pot, turn up the heat, and put a lid on it.
Your cosmic soup is now complete.
Is it any wonder — after all that you put in your pot — that you got cancer? Sneaky, stinkin' cancer? Seems pretty clear to me that it's all your fault, right? Your hereditary recipe worked overtime to lower your resistance, causing your body to fight that much harder to fend off diseases — like cancer.
But wait a minute. Aren't we all just swimming on a sea of unknowns, floating in little lifeboats, hoping the right conditions exist for us to get to shore unscathed? We paddle the way others have taught us to paddle. We carry a compass to stay on course. We keep our boat well maintained and stocked with essentials. We become expert swimmers in case we're thrown overboard. Yet still we cannot control the power of the ocean.
Aren't you forgetting that none of us make it to shore? We are all pre-programmed to die. (Hello!) No one comes with an extended warranty. It's all just a matter of how long we get to ride the wave. For some, its a surfer's paradise; for most, its more like navigating a tsunami.
So no, after all that, I do not believe that it's my fault that I got cancer. And I don't believe it is your fault that you got cancer either.
If "curing" cancer were as simple as living clean and stress-free and reducing the 'bad stuff' as much as possible — well, we would have a cure by now. The answer to cancer lies in finding a way to stop normal cells from going haywire and replicating in the first place. It's so much more complicated than eating organic and running a marathon.
In gambler's terms, cancer is the lousy luck of the draw. A total crap shoot. Not within your control. The quicker you let go of your guilt, the faster you can focus on what's really important. And only you know what that is.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
SPEEDING UP
What's my writing style? Do I plan my posts? Title first or last? Where do I write? These are today's questions on Day 15 — the midway point — of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge.
As I have mentioned before, I am a very slow writer. A careful writer. There is a reason for this: In my former life as an editor, it was my job to find the errors. That means I can seldom just let something go. I am an eternal "word fixer." There is always a better turn of phrase, additional alliteration or a more succinct way of stringing together my thoughts. This writing challenge has turned out to be just what I needed.
I discovered the idea on Marie's blog, Journeying Beyond Breast Cancer, and made a comment on her Day 2 post that I wanted to join in but was afraid I wouldn't have time to post every day. I decided to make the time. I quickly wrote the first two posts to catch up with Marie. And Jan at Mourning Has Broken. Then Yvonne at Time to Consider the Lilies joined in. It's been a blast seeing different takes on the same writing prompts.
I figured this challenge simply had to make me a faster writer. It had to loosen up some brain cells and allow me to write more stream-of-consciously (which turned out to be my Day 12 prompt — unbeknownst to me). And it has!
Normally, I sit in my home office with my cup of coffee and make notes to myself about future blog posts in my drafts folder. Then I sit down and begin to craft one. I step away for a few hours (or a day), and come back to it. And repeat. That is partly why I only blog once or twice a week. It takes me a long time. I also am afraid to bore you, dear reader!
Sometimes a blog title will come to me first, but more often than not, it is the very last thing I write before I hit the "publish" button.
I'm still not sold on daily blogging (for me), but this exercise has taught me that I can punch out a post that is short, in a short period of time. And sometimes that's all you (or I) need.
As I have mentioned before, I am a very slow writer. A careful writer. There is a reason for this: In my former life as an editor, it was my job to find the errors. That means I can seldom just let something go. I am an eternal "word fixer." There is always a better turn of phrase, additional alliteration or a more succinct way of stringing together my thoughts. This writing challenge has turned out to be just what I needed.
I discovered the idea on Marie's blog, Journeying Beyond Breast Cancer, and made a comment on her Day 2 post that I wanted to join in but was afraid I wouldn't have time to post every day. I decided to make the time. I quickly wrote the first two posts to catch up with Marie. And Jan at Mourning Has Broken. Then Yvonne at Time to Consider the Lilies joined in. It's been a blast seeing different takes on the same writing prompts.
I figured this challenge simply had to make me a faster writer. It had to loosen up some brain cells and allow me to write more stream-of-consciously (which turned out to be my Day 12 prompt — unbeknownst to me). And it has!
Normally, I sit in my home office with my cup of coffee and make notes to myself about future blog posts in my drafts folder. Then I sit down and begin to craft one. I step away for a few hours (or a day), and come back to it. And repeat. That is partly why I only blog once or twice a week. It takes me a long time. I also am afraid to bore you, dear reader!Sometimes a blog title will come to me first, but more often than not, it is the very last thing I write before I hit the "publish" button.
I'm still not sold on daily blogging (for me), but this exercise has taught me that I can punch out a post that is short, in a short period of time. And sometimes that's all you (or I) need.
Friday, April 13, 2012
MY 10 FAVORITE THINGS
What does Day 13 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge ask? "Write a list of the 10 things you need (or love) the most."
In keeping with Day 12's stream of consciousness challenge, I'll list the first 10 favorite things that come to mind:
1) Laughter
2) Love
3) Kindness
4) Coffee
5) Mountains
6) Ocean
7) Peace
8) Pets
9) Fresh veggies
10) Photography
PS: To read the favorite things of a few of my favorite BC bloggers, just click here for Jan's, here for Marie's and here for Yvonne's!
In keeping with Day 12's stream of consciousness challenge, I'll list the first 10 favorite things that come to mind:
2) Love
3) Kindness
4) Coffee
5) Mountains
6) Ocean
7) Peace
8) Pets
9) Fresh veggies
10) Photography
PS: To read the favorite things of a few of my favorite BC bloggers, just click here for Jan's, here for Marie's and here for Yvonne's!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
CH-CH-CHANGES
Day 11 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge poses this challenge: "Imagine your blog having it's own theme song. What would it be?"
Monday, April 9, 2012
KEEP CALM WITH ARMOR ON
 |
| © 2012 Rennasus |
Today the prompt is to write a riff on the British wartime poster, "Keep Calm and Carry On." Here's what I came up with (American spelling intentional).
Because in order to jump through the many multiple hoops
of the ever-changing,
exhausting,
frustrating,
frightening
(and downright demoralizing)
experience
that is cancer,
you must first put on your emotional armor.
Always.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
HOT FLASH HAIKU
Day 7 (per WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge), and it's my choice what to write about today. YAY! Since I had such fun yesterday with Haiku, I wrote another — one that women of a certain age will relate to, as will any cancer patient on hormone therapy. Have a great weekend!
Like a bad temper,
Heat rises inside out.
Discard clothing quickly.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
EKPHRASIS
The WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month continues today with a prompt to write an ekphrasis inspired by the image I see when I click on flickr.com/explore.
First things first. What the heck's an EKPHRASIS? According to Merriam-Webster: "A literary description of or commentary on a visual work of art." OK, so it's like an art review. I can do that.
But I also have to tie it into the purpose of this blog. (Fingers crossed that I get a good image.) I click on the Flickr link and this is the photo I see:
I don't know about you, but this picture (and the metaphors that so easily spring from it) pretty much sums up my cancer experience.
I'm minding my own business, traveling along the locomotive that is my life, when I suddenly find my caboose on the edge of a dark mountain that is no longer stable. When the word cancer is uttered, my world crumbles into shards of coal. A surgeon's knife cuts my flesh and hot molten tears spill from deep inside.
Clearly I'm a train wreck with an engine that's run out of steam.
First things first. What the heck's an EKPHRASIS? According to Merriam-Webster: "A literary description of or commentary on a visual work of art." OK, so it's like an art review. I can do that.
 |
| "Anshan steelwork slag tipping" by Frühtau (China) |
I'm minding my own business, traveling along the locomotive that is my life, when I suddenly find my caboose on the edge of a dark mountain that is no longer stable. When the word cancer is uttered, my world crumbles into shards of coal. A surgeon's knife cuts my flesh and hot molten tears spill from deep inside.
Clearly I'm a train wreck with an engine that's run out of steam.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
CANCER ZAPPER
If I had a superpower, what would it be and how would I use it?
That's easy. I would be a Cancer Zapper.
I would whisper in the patient's ear, "Tell that doc he/she is mistaken. You don't have cancer!"
Then I would fly off to the next patient, and the next, and the next.
Until no one, anywhere, ever had to hear those words again. Now that would be pretty super, wouldn't it?
Monday, April 2, 2012
MAKE A SHADOW
It's Day 2 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge. (Thanks to Marie, I'm writing a blog a day about health for the entire month of April.)
 |
| (copyright: The BigCandMe) |
"Today it is enough to make a shadow." —Gretal Ehrlich
There have been many times during my cancer journey when I have felt that just making a shadow was arduous. Had I heard this quote during some of those times, I may have more easily let go of some of the guilt associated with not accomplishing what I set out to do that day.
Pre- and post-cancer, I always had a to-do list running in my head. Though my list is much shorter these days, it still exists. And sometimes I just don't feel like doing anything on it. I don't want to be responsible for anything or anyone other than me. And I have learned that that is absolutely, positively A-OK.
What's not OK is feeling bad about it. That's when the "shoulds" come into play. You know: "I should be doing this" and "I shouldn't have eaten that." As my friend Shannon says, "There I go 'shoulding' all over myself again." That always makes me laugh. And it makes me realize that honoring my feelings is as much a part of my recovery as doing my exercises or taking a nap or eating enough protein.
Because some days, it really is enough to make a shadow.
TIME CAPSULE
I've just committed to writing a blog a day for the next month as part of the Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge (HAWMC) at WEGO Health. Yikes.
Yesterday was Day 1. Since I just joined at the end of today, I'm already two challenges behind. I'd better get cracking!
MY DAY 1 CHALLENGE Imagine a health time capsule that will be opened in 2112. What do you put inside so people who open it in 100 years get a sense of who you are and what health issues you faced?
I would tell the future that in 2012 we were pretty clueless about cancer. That we devoted an entire month each year to the color pink in an attempt to find a cure for breast cancer. That we spent mind-numbing millions and billions buying pretty pink products in pretty pink packaging that made pretty much everyone associated with them plenty of money — but did little to stem the tide of patients diagnosed with (and dying from) the disease. That we were lured into believing that early-stage meant curable. That it took time to understand that cosmetic companies and group walks do not stop cancer's wrath. That it took a long time to figure out how much more productive we could be if we funneled our dollars directly into research and cut out the middle man (and woman). That it took us a really long time before we fully understood how to prevent the disease from forming in the first place. And that it took a really, really long time to find a cure. But we did it.
I really, really hope that last sentence is true.
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