When diagnosed with a first cancer, we are all gobsmacked, appalled, overwhelmed, stunned, depressed, shocked, awed, overrun, and more as a result. You struggle through treatment and the ensuing body changes and emotions and slowly return to that so called 'new' normal and life resumes.
Then when cancer, the 'gift that keeps on giving', shows up again, you start all over again. It can be a dreaded recurrence or metastases or you can start all over again with a new cancer. Second cancers are not recurrences but new primaries. Such a joy. Not really.
When my second cancer showed up, in some ways it put me back to where I was emotionally but I was better prepared for it emotionally. And I was more proactive in coping with it. I joined support groups, on and off line, got therapy and worked hard at accepting this new health disaster.
However, I was basically the only one I knew who had had two cancers as me. Actually I know one other person in the world who had both breast cancer and thyroid cancer. (I know there are other people who have had these two cancers because it is not that uncommon that they show up in the same person but the only person I could connect to was in Europe.) We were both in the same online support group. She posted a message asking if anyone had had both and I responded.
With one cancer, you can find a ribbon to support you, a group of people like you with the cancer, and you can all bond with each other. Or you find a group of people have had a single cancer and you all can talk about the joys of treatment. But with a second cancer, you become an outlier. Most people only get one cancer. The multiple diagnoses are much fewer.
This is starting to change. New research (because we always need more research) shows that one in five cancer diagnoses are second cancers. In the 1970s only 9% of cancer diaganoses were second cancers. There are many reasons for this:
"About 19 percent of cancers in the United States now are second-or-more cases, a recent study found. In the 1970s, it was only 9 percent. Over that period, the number of first cancers rose 70 percent while the number of second cancers rose 300 percent.
Strange as it may sound, this is partly a success story: More people are surviving cancer and living long enough to get it again, because the risk of cancer rises with age."
So since I was young to get my first cancer, before age 20, and young to get my second cancer, before age 50, am I doomed to get more cancers? But at least it won't be as lonely as this second cancer rate continues to rise.
Mar 27, 2017
That awareness thing
Am I the only one on the planet who thinks we do not need more awareness of different cancer types? I mean yes there are some really obscure ones that need awareness and more treatment as well as metastatic cancer definitely needs more options. But really, do we really need an unending calendar of fashion shows, races, walks, and other events?
I may be cynical but I think most of us are too aware of cancer these days. Or is it just me because it has been part of my life for so long?
I may be cynical but I think most of us are too aware of cancer these days. Or is it just me because it has been part of my life for so long?
Mar 20, 2017
A great article
The pink culture of breast cancer is about to get an infusion of red hot.
A small but growing group of women with metastatic breast cancer and their supporters have formed MET UP, an activist group modelled on the confrontational AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT UP) and sharing the same inspiration of anger, rebellion, and fellowship/sisterhood.
"MET UP is…committed to direct action for a viable cure for breast cancer. We protest and demonstrate," reads a portion of the group's mission statement, which was recently posted online.
A changing of the guard — and of attitude and tone — is needed in advocacy, suggests the group. "The time for honey is over. Break out the vinegar. It's our turn now," the group states.
MET UP has its eye on some major powers-that-be: the federal government, Komen for the Cure, and sexploitative breast-related charities, said founding member Beth Caldwell, 38, of Seattle, Washington, a married mother of two small children whose initial breast cancer diagnosis was metastatic disease.
"We're very much in our infancy, but we have big plans," she told Medscape Medical News.
One of the roots of the rebellion is frustration over the fact that, despite 40 years of "breast cancer awareness," the average survival with metastatic breast cancer has not changed and remains 3 years. "We're not making any progress in keeping people alive," said Caldwell.
"There are many members of our group who are very angry at Komen," she continued, referring to the influential and controversial breast cancer organization.
Here's one of the reasons for the rage, said Caldwell: In 2013, Komen had $125 million in revenue but gave away only $38 million in grants (and even then, some grants were not for scientific research). "As an organization that pitches itself as 'for the cure,' they are not doing enough to actually seek the cure," she summarized.
Komen has also reportedly kept women with metastatic disease off the podiums of its rallies because the specter of death is an emotional downer, as highlighted by Medscape Medical News.
"We are excluded from the club," says Caldwell about the general aversion that pink culture — with its mantra of "beating" breast cancer — has for the people who are inexorably destined to die of the disease.
So, is MET UP — à la ACT UP — planning to storm Komen headquarters in Dallas? Not now, said Caldwell, but "Komen is definitely on our radar." The activists recognize the group has new leadership and they are waiting to see whether grant funding priorities change.
The first major direct action planned by the fledging organization is a nonviolent "die-in" on October 13, which is Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day, in Washington, DC, on the lawn of the US Capitol with 1430 men and women to symbolize the daily death toll of the disease worldwide.
Mar 13, 2017
If you know me...
...you'll know why I couldn't resist sharing this comic strip.
Pearls Before Swine by Stephen Pastis, 7/21/2015
Pearls Before Swine by Stephen Pastis, 7/21/2015
Mar 7, 2017
Stress + anxiety = anxiety + stress
The past week has been filled with stress and anxiety, no matter how you look at it.
Gilda's Club Seattle asked, and I offered to give an interview when Mutual of Omaha's AHA Moment van was in Seattle on Tuesday. If you've not seen these commercials, check out the site. (I don't know when or if my interview will be broadcast, but will try to post if they tell me.)
At first I thought I'd talk about cancer. Then I thought I'd talk about my cousin E, who died last week at the age of 90+. I asked Rik to quickly email me a photo, since the email reminder said to bring something along. But they meant something to hold in my hand, not a digital image. Then I changed my mind again. Everyone has a loss to share. What would make E's death my AHA Moment more powerful than my living with metastatic cancer?
In the end I talked about my cancer, how long it had been in my life. Mostly I spoke about how my recent knowledge of the US government's lack of funding of all research into all metastatic cancers via the National Cancer Institute indicates how little the lives of our citizens seem to matter to our government. The interviewer didn't seem to care for this topic much, but I got very passionate about it. It was a bit of a stress-filled morning.
On Tuesday afternoon I saw my specialty dentist about the ache in my jaw and numbness in my chin. She took x-rays but nothing showed up, as nothing had shown up on the recent CT of the right side of my jaw. My anxiety continued to build, as this could mean anything from TMJ to increased activity in the BRONJ spot in my jaw, to more active brain mets. Or anything else. And it hurt to open my mouth and eat.
Thursday brought my weekly support group plus a visit with Dr G. The usual mixed bag of possibilities opened up yet again. Stress. Rik told Dr G he thinks I've been mixing up my conversation recently. I told Dr G about my issues with typos and not being able to think of the proper word in a sentence (I call this "my feeling stupid"). These symptoms, plus the mouth/jaw and chin pain, could indeed mean anything. Combined with the rise in my tumor markers, Dr G decided I should start Taxol within 24-48 hours, and schedule another brain MRI soon. I had a brain MRI on June 10th, which revealed nothing unusual. Dr G also said I should start raloxifine, an estrogen blocker which somehow I'd never had.
The terrible traffic for the stupid Seafair activities in town caused many of the patients scheduled before me to arrive late. Therefore we waited two and a half hours to see Dr G, spent an hour with him, walked over to the hospital to fill the scrip for raloxifine, and didn't get home until almost 7 pm.
More stress, more anxiety.
On Friday the Swedish Cancer Institute squeezed me in for my first dose of Taxol. I felt okay on Friday afternoon, but took a nap anyway. New drug, a nap is in order. I should get the Taxol once a week for three weeks, then take a week off. This lower dose also should be more tolerable.
On Saturday it was so very hot here that I took a five hour nap with the air conditioner. This was definitely the summer for such a purchase. I have a brain MRI scheduled for this week, as approved by my health insurance company. We'll see what that reveals. At least my jaw hurts less
Finally, today my dear friends D and C came over for brunch. While we were catching up with one another, I truly had an AHA moment: I realized that the stress and anxiety of the past week could easily have caused some of the symptoms I was so worried about. The typos, the conversational idiosyncrasies and worries about new pain might have all converged to cause me more worry and nervousness.
I actually have tolerated the Taxol very well so far, with minimal side effects except my naps. I hope this means that my trip to see my family on the east coast will come off as planned. Plus I hope this means less stress now that I have a plan. This who know me, know that I excel at planning.
Gilda's Club Seattle asked, and I offered to give an interview when Mutual of Omaha's AHA Moment van was in Seattle on Tuesday. If you've not seen these commercials, check out the site. (I don't know when or if my interview will be broadcast, but will try to post if they tell me.)
At first I thought I'd talk about cancer. Then I thought I'd talk about my cousin E, who died last week at the age of 90+. I asked Rik to quickly email me a photo, since the email reminder said to bring something along. But they meant something to hold in my hand, not a digital image. Then I changed my mind again. Everyone has a loss to share. What would make E's death my AHA Moment more powerful than my living with metastatic cancer?
 |
| With Anna Gottlieb, founder and executive director of Gilda's Club Seattle |
 |
| A gift from Mutual of Omaha - my very own clapboard |
On Tuesday afternoon I saw my specialty dentist about the ache in my jaw and numbness in my chin. She took x-rays but nothing showed up, as nothing had shown up on the recent CT of the right side of my jaw. My anxiety continued to build, as this could mean anything from TMJ to increased activity in the BRONJ spot in my jaw, to more active brain mets. Or anything else. And it hurt to open my mouth and eat.
Thursday brought my weekly support group plus a visit with Dr G. The usual mixed bag of possibilities opened up yet again. Stress. Rik told Dr G he thinks I've been mixing up my conversation recently. I told Dr G about my issues with typos and not being able to think of the proper word in a sentence (I call this "my feeling stupid"). These symptoms, plus the mouth/jaw and chin pain, could indeed mean anything. Combined with the rise in my tumor markers, Dr G decided I should start Taxol within 24-48 hours, and schedule another brain MRI soon. I had a brain MRI on June 10th, which revealed nothing unusual. Dr G also said I should start raloxifine, an estrogen blocker which somehow I'd never had.
The terrible traffic for the stupid Seafair activities in town caused many of the patients scheduled before me to arrive late. Therefore we waited two and a half hours to see Dr G, spent an hour with him, walked over to the hospital to fill the scrip for raloxifine, and didn't get home until almost 7 pm.
More stress, more anxiety.
On Friday the Swedish Cancer Institute squeezed me in for my first dose of Taxol. I felt okay on Friday afternoon, but took a nap anyway. New drug, a nap is in order. I should get the Taxol once a week for three weeks, then take a week off. This lower dose also should be more tolerable.
On Saturday it was so very hot here that I took a five hour nap with the air conditioner. This was definitely the summer for such a purchase. I have a brain MRI scheduled for this week, as approved by my health insurance company. We'll see what that reveals. At least my jaw hurts less
Finally, today my dear friends D and C came over for brunch. While we were catching up with one another, I truly had an AHA moment: I realized that the stress and anxiety of the past week could easily have caused some of the symptoms I was so worried about. The typos, the conversational idiosyncrasies and worries about new pain might have all converged to cause me more worry and nervousness.
I actually have tolerated the Taxol very well so far, with minimal side effects except my naps. I hope this means that my trip to see my family on the east coast will come off as planned. Plus I hope this means less stress now that I have a plan. This who know me, know that I excel at planning.