“Out, damned spot! out, I say!”

The title is only partially appropriate, as it is hardly ok to compare one’s mother to Lady Macbeth.  (Sorry, mom!)

Still, there is a spot (two, actually) which must come out.  On that front, we have good news!

My mom has now had two doses of chemotherapy.  (She had the most recent one on Friday.)  Shortly before her last chemo, she mentioned that the lump that initially made her worry is now almost undetectable.  She said that if she didn’t know it was there, she wouldn’t be able to find it.

A few days later, her oncologist verified that she’s right!  The lump is indeed getting smaller!  This is very good news, and a sign that the chemo is doing its job.

It will be important to remember this triumph if the most recent administration of chemotherapy brings about any ill effects. The chemotherapy doesn’t seem to have much of an impact the day of the procedure, but a couple of days later the tiredness begins.  

To move to the topic of cancer in general, one thing that I am consistently seeing in my reading is that sugar and simple carbohydrates are bad news.  

Oh sure, different dieticians, nutritionists and doctors might champion some specific/unique foods or practices, but pretty much everyone agrees about the sugar! From what I have read, cancer just looooves sugar.

I need to specify here that I am talking about simple carbs and not demonizing carbohydrates in general, which are essential to your body and brain. (You’ll never make me give up my lentils, beans and fancy rice!)  The not-so-great stuff is the junk that your body breaks down quickly; the white-flour, white-sugar crap that we all love to snack on.  

I have a sweet tooth myself, so this is a real bummer.  However, I can’t help but come to the conclusion that if you’re worried about cancer, you should look at your sugar intake. (Hey, aren’t you already sweet enough? 😉  )

Mom seems to be handling this whole thing remarkably well.  I was afraid initially that she would make everything worse on herself with stress and worry, as that would be easy to do!  Instead, she has been doing a commendable job of focusing on the things that she loves and that are important to her.  She spends a lot of time in nature.  

In fact, I was lucky enough to share a hike and a fire with my mom and dad last Saturday. I can assure you, my mom has been the opposite of anxious, depressed or self-pitying over this.  It’s almost as if she is committed to refusing to allow cancer to bring her down.  

You can see it in her insistence on wearing hoop earrings and red lipstick to chemotherapy sessions.  It’s there, in her eyes and in her smile, 

Onwards and upwards,

Jennnq

The Cancer Plan

I haven’t cried yet.  It’s a thought I’d been having occasionally over the past couple of weeks.  Of course I knew it wouldn’t last.  I knew that it was only a matter of time.

A couple of days ago, that time was up.  I don’t know what it was exactly, but once I started I couldn’t stop.  I cried while my mother talked to me on the phone (she sounded tired!).  I cried when a friend sent me a kind message.  I cried to myself on my lunch break as I sat at my desk.  Great fat tears rolled down my nose.  I made ugly sobbing noises.  

But mostly, I just knew that the dam had broken, and now I would be crying off and on about my mom’s cancer.

Hopefully not too often.  Hopefully not in front of my mom.  But that lump in my throat is still there, and I am afraid that I will hear a pretty song, or a sappy commercial and just shatter into tiny pieces.

The Cancer Plan

I’m going to divide the rest of this post under a couple of headings.  I couldn’t find a very cohesive flow, I’m afraid!  Guess I’m feeling a little disjointed myself.

Some further scans have come back, and they actually turned up a second lump in the same breast. As well, the cancer seems to be affecting six lymph nodes, rather than two. The plan remains largely unchanged. The cancer-killing starts with 18 weeks of chemo.  My precious mother has to undergo 18 weeks, consisting of 6 rounds of intense chemotherapy.  She had the first already.  They have also given her a port to simplify the administration of the chemo drugs. For the record, a port is like a way more badass piercing than any of the ones I ever got. (Think your mom is punk? Mine has a subdermal implant!) She says she’s fine, and I know it’s necessary, I just don’t like the thought of mom having to undergo any kind of surgery at all. (Silver lining: increased “borg queen” vibes.)  

After the chemo, there will be more surgery, including the mastectomy of one breast, and possibly the removal of some lymph nodes.

They might need to do radiation after that.  It depends on how things go.

It’s the very epitome of “Thanks…I hate it.”  Yes, chemotherapy saves lives.  Yes, this is the approved medical route, but these drugs are no joke, and this is a long-ass road ahead.  

I find it hard to deal with the fact that Mom was fine up until the time she found the lump.  Living her life with no idea that this was brewing, and no outward sign of sickness. Cancer can quietly creep along as you lead a full and healthy-seeming life.  

Treating it is so harsh.  It really turns a person’s life upside down. I can’t wait until she’s well again.  (Uh-oh, here comes that lump in my throat again.)

Mom is Still Mom

My mom is an active lady, who routinely makes me wonder what the heck I’m doing with my life.  I am constantly in awe, because the woman just gets things done.  If there is a problem, mom addresses the problem and moves on.  She doesn’t need to meditate or sing a song about it (or write a blog post) she just gets it done.

I’m happy to report that mom is still my mom.  She is constantly off to do something, like taking her fancy car out, or taking the dog in the woods with my dad, or working on some other project.  She did have a couple of more “blah” days after the chemo (more than understandable!) but she is back to being almost as active as before.  (The challenge may be in actually getting her to relax!)

Cancer and Diet?

I find myself wondering about cancer and diet a lot.  Here’s the truth; I don’t understand! Firstly, I wonder about the overall effect of someone’s diet on their likelihood of getting cancer, and what diet can do to prevent it.  Secondly, I have questions about what a person should eat once they have cancer.  

Of course, the hippie in me wants to find some sort of “miracle” fruit or nutritional supplement that knocks out cancer, (so I can give a giant bowl of it to my mom) but so far, I haven’t figured anything out. 

Normally, I would think that a sick person needs lots of healthy foods.  To me, that means plant-based fare with a balanced selection of healthy proteins. Maybe some green juices and smoothies to really amp up the vitamins and minerals coming into the body.

By that logic, I should be at mom’s right now, throwing spinach into a blender.

The only problem with that is, cancer cells are hungry, fast-growing cells.  So, aren’t all of those great nutrients also feeding the cancer?  Would something like a green juice actually help the cancer grow?  Is it better to eat Burger King?  I honestly don’t know!  What does someone who has cancer eat to minimize cancer and maximize their health? (If anyone has an answer, I’d be more than happy to hear it!)

Onwards and upwards,

Jennnq

Three Bald Women

Back in March of 2020, I started working from home. You all know the story of the pandemic, so I’m not going to rehash it here. Suffice it to say that my hair was not exactly my top concern.  I decided to let it grow.

Me in Feb. of 2020

As it progressed, I had it dyed and trimmed periodically, seeing my stylist as the pandemic safety protocols allowed. Eventually it was past my ears. Then it became jaw length. Finally the day came when I was able to put it up.  (I had to buy myself elastics and a brush and everything!)    


Since I have enough hair, I have become a fan of ponytails, headbands and, my personal favorite; adorable wee little space buns. It’s been a big change for me. Up until recently, I’ve pretty much always had short hair.

My sister, on the other hand, has had long, beautiful,  dark red hair for a long time. It is very feminine, it suits her well, and I haven’t seen Alli truly chop her hair short in maybe…ever? I mean, would ya just look at that hair?

Alli is the fiery redhead. I’m the space cadet in any colour of the rainbow!


Hair can be a powerful signifier for who we are as a person.  How we choose to wear our hair can be deeply linked to our perception of ourselves.  


Which is why it can suck so much when cancer patients lose their hair. 

 The doctors told mom that she would most-likely lose hers. She didn’t relish the idea of experiencing her hair falling out, so she decided to go ahead and just shave it. She decided that she wanted to lose her hair on her own terms.

So, the three of us went to our favourite salon to see longtime family friend and hairstylist Trish Molloy to have her shave mom’s head. Trish also dyed, cut and styled mom’s new wig.

All the same, we know that bald is not a look my mom would have gone for ordinarily. My sister and I were afraid she’d find it hard. Seeing herself bald might come as a shock. Maybe make her feel more like a “cancer patient.”

Well screw that. More like, “Cancer patient, but make it fashion!” We decided not to let her do it alone. (What, you think I’d let her have all of those “Borg queen” vibes herself?)

Mom, who looks pretty great to me!

 

Alli, who kept a little hair, but lost a lot!
Won’t be needing those scrunchies for a while!


When she looks in the mirror, she might be reminded of the disease.  But she can also be reminded of this moment; and that she’s not alone.

All of us with hair! (That’s mom with her new wig!)
Three bald ladies and the infamous Trish!

(To me, we either look very punk rock, or like a modern version of Macbeth’s 3 witches.)

Mom had her first round of chemo Friday.  One round down, five more to go!

Onwards and upwards!

-Jennnq