BC Becky

Never Thought I’d Want to be a Breast Cancer Survivor

Author: Becky

  • Mountain Biking and Wilder Ranch

    Yesterday we rented mountain bikes and went for our second ride – having doing a “tour” a couple weeks ago that involved a few small lessons. The lessons came in handy. This time my rented bike had a smaller frame which fit a lot better. I didn’t end up with nearly as many bruises 🙂

    We both learned that we need more practice in climbing. The uphills killed us, but we had a lot of fun going down.

    Here is the selfie we too before deciding to turn around and head back down, after over an hour of climbing we were finished with the hard part!

    Once we got back down to bottom, we decided to try an easier ride out to the bluffs, where we walked to back on August 31, 2014. Just over 4 years ago. I remember the hike taking a lot of energy and me moving very slowly back then.

    I had forgotten about the beach full of pelicans that is on the way to the bluff.

    When we got to bluff this time, we had to take a couple of selfies back at the same place. As you can see, I’m a lot happier in the photo (actually, it looks like Scott is the one that clearly having more fun this time!)

    As you can see by the map, we have a lot more of Wilder Ranch to explore. Our highest elevation was 174m (although there were a few downs involved so we climbed more than that).

  • My mantra

    I thought I would share my mantra with everyone here. Anytime I get a new ache or pain, I repeat to myself “In the absence of a diagnosis, I am healthy”.

    This really helps when I am going for a scan or a doctors appointment that is triggering anxiety.

    Currently I’m OK. I have some new lower back pain, so I’m getting an MRI to rule out anything – but I don’t think it is anything other than arthritis acting up. My first reaction to a new ache or pain is to think of a non-cancer reason for it, because more than likely there is a non-cancer reason for it. Then when that little voice inside says, “but maybe it is …”  I repeat to myself “In the absence of a diagnosis, I am healthy”.

  • Regaining confidence

    I realized the other day that one of the things I’m struggling with right now is self-confidence. After cancer, I had a don’t care attitude that allowed me to not worry about things. That gave me a confidence and strength to tackle things. Over the last year, I’ve lost that.

    I realize now that I need to get it back. I need to peel away the impostor syndrome and regain my sense of knowing what I know, but also knowing that I will never be the expert on everything – that I will always be able to learn from others, but that learning from others doesn’t take away from the expertise that I also have.

    It is a weird sense, but I need to remind myself that I should not care so much about what I think others think of me, rather, I should just be me and share what I know with a sense of self-confidence, because what I do know adds value to the conversation.

    It is weird, but this term, listening to the background of all my students, it is intimidating. I worry that they will think that I don’t know what I’m doing – or that I don’t know much – and then I realize, this is exactly the type of thought patterns that I do not need. My job and passion is to design and to teach. I can share what I know, with the understanding that everyone has different perspectives and we all have something to share. I don’t need to be the expert in everything – but also that I do bring value to the table.

    And so, I need to stop worrying about what others think of me. This is something that I was able to do easily after cancer, and it is something that made me a better teacher. Now that I realize that what was sneaking up on me was my old sense of impostor syndrome, that I can now put that aside and get back to being the teacher that I am.

  • A different kind of loneliness

    A friend said to me the other day “you need to get some friends who aren’t dying”. True that. The disadvantage to working from home and having free time to hike during the day is that the friends that I hang out with are those who have metastatic breast cancer, and are at some point going to die. But that isn’t really the source of this loneliness. The loneliness I’m having now has more to do with the loss of my parents.

    Hiking yesterday I was able to cry for the first time in a few weeks. I was able to figure out part of what I was feeling. My thoughts were “who is going to be proud of me now?” It is that sense that when I make a great accomplishment, that I want to share that with my parents. There is a feeling that they are proud of me. And I am feeling that loss right now. That loss of a sense that when I do something great, that my parents will be proud.

    The loneliness is in part in the knowing that I cannot just pick up the phone and Facetime with mom anymore. When dad died, I could lean on mom. But now with mom gone, I am feeling alone. I know that I have family still. I am just feeling that emptiness that goes along with grief. I cry for a bit and then the resiliency in me kicks in and I look to things I can do to reconnect to the world.

  • Lost …

    I’m at a loss for what to do with myself, or more, how I should be thinking.

    I’m working, preparing my courses which start the week after next. That is keeping me busy.

    When she allows it, I spend time with my best friend. I say that, because she has become overwhelmed with people wanting to see her, and she had been so sick that she needed someone around 24hrs a day that she didn’t get any alone time. Now that she is feeling a little better (yay to that), she is healthy enough to be alone at least for a few hours a day.

    My PhD is on hold, which is a good thing. Although I did find myself sort of writing  my discussion chapter in my head as I was hiking the other day – hiking alone. Allowing myself to gather my own thoughts.

    I am still dealing with various aspects of mom’s estate. One of my Aunt reflected on how being executor made it a lot more difficult for her to grieve. That her duties meant that she couldn’t let go or move on.

    I have missed the summer here – having spent most of it up in Ottawa. The temperatures here now are a clear indication that fall has arrived (highs mid 20s, lows in the low teens). The weather is actually pretty perfect right now.

    Scott and I did decide to try out an adventure. We are doing a Mountain Bike tour up in Marin – where Mountain Bikes were invented – on Monday (hopefully – we are awaiting confirmation).

    I just feel like I’m going through the motions but not having any emotions about it. No sadness but also no passion.

    I’m finding writing difficult – blogging difficult. I know I need to write something for my academic / professional blog but really I don’t know what to write about. Even this post is a little lost – as I don’t have complete thoughts about it – but I do feel the need to write something, just to get that writing muscle back into shape.

    And so, I’m hoping that one day soon, I shall be found … but I’m not expecting that to happen in the next month … I’m hoping it happens before I’m expected to finish off my PhD in January!

  • Yoga and ego

    I went to a yoga class on Sunday and one thing that the instructor mentioned was that one of the practices of yoga is to let go of your ego. That really struck a cord with me, as I often worry about whether or not I’m able to do a particular yoga class. I worry about whether I will look weak or dumb. I know that I should not compare myself to others in the room, but I cannot help but doing it. And that is why the idea of letting go of my ego really helped. It helped remind me that everyone in the room is in a different place, dealing with a different body. No one is judging me except myself (or if they are judging me, who cares? that is their problem not mine).

    And with that, I decided to go to a Body Flow class today. Sunday’s yoga class was a 90-minute Yin yoga class, which involved a lot of stretch poses that were held for long duration. It was a great class to ease into, and helped lose up my way too tight back. Body flow as a class that I used to find too easy. I used to find that it wasn’t really a workout – is we just a chance to stretch. That was 10 or so years ago. Not so much now. The class kicked my ass. However, I did it. I survived the entire class. I did what I could, and I didn’t watch others. I practiced the letting go of my ego, but also not comparing myself to others (which is one way in which I express my ego). I watched the instructor and I did what I could – often looking at myself in the mirror (although it was often better if I didn’t see myself!).

    I’ll wait and see how I’m feeling tomorrow before I decide if I’m going back to that class. What was nice was that the room wasn’t too crowded. If I had the energy in me, I would have gone swimming afterwards, as the timing allows for lap swim before the end of word day crowds. However, today, swimming wasn’t in the cards. The class was more than enough for me.

  • Cell biology video

    I wanted to share this video clip in part because I didn’t want to lose it. What amazes me is that after Project LEAD I actually understand at least part of it. I’ll need to go back over my notes at some point and try to decode the rest of it. Either way, it is a beautiful animation of biology.

  • A long overdue update

    Sorry, it has been awhile since I have written anything. Life has been a little crazy – and I haven’t crashed yet – but I know it should happen. I’m in a state of no emotions right now.

    Last Saturday (a week ago), I attended an all day writing retreat with BAYS. It was truly healing. I wrote a couple of stories – or at least made a start on them. I then read the stories. This allowed me to do some emotional processing around mom’s passing. I cried a lot during that session, and I’m so thankful to the BAYS gals and the facilitator for giving me that chance to express myself. Once I get a chance to edit the stories a little, and finish writing them, I’ll share them here. That might take a bit as I have a lot on my plate right now.

    Then, last week, I attended the National Breast Cancer Coalition’s (NBCC) Project LEAD Institute. It was an intense week of education about breast cancer science – basic biology, cancer biology, immunotherapy as well as information about the different types of research studies including clinical trials and epidemiology (cohort and case-control studies). I met many really awesome advocates and scientists. I really wish I had more time to spend getting to know the people – but it was a jam packed week. I’ll write more about this when I get a chance to mentally process it.

    This week I’m going to try and focus (ya right) on preparing my classes for the fall semester. I’m teaching two courses now: Foundations in Instructional Design and Learning Technology (the first course in the program) and The Design and Instruction of Online Courses (one of the last in the program). I love watching the students grow and build confidence throughout the program.

    I also delayed my Lupron shot (hormone therapy) in order to attend Project Lead. This has led to me getting crazy headaches. I get my shot later today, which I hope means the headaches will go away!

    I find myself thinking as I write about my mother reading my blog posts – and then I realize she isn’t. It is that kind of thought that I have noticed lately. I wonder how mom will react to the different things I’m doing or posting – then I realize, that I won’t hear or see her reaction.

     

  • Alternate reality

    I feel a little like I’ve been in an alternate reality for the last three months, and I’m only slowly emerging back out of it. It has been two weeks since my mom passed away. A week and a day since I placed her urn into the grave, facing my father. That was July 7 – his birthday – a day of transition for me.

    I remember deciding not to start chemotherapy on July first, because that was Canada Day, and I didn’t want the association of chemotherapy and Canada Day. Now, the association I have is of my mother’s passing. Fireworks on Canada Day will forever remind me of sitting on my Aunt’s porch, only a few hours after mom passed, watching a personal fireworks display which we decided to do in honour of mom. She wanted us to be there, and to enjoy them.

    I’m home for a bit and I’m buried. I have forms to fill, and things to think about, plans to be made. We are hoping that in August we can do a quick push to get the house ready for sale. We cannot sell until probate clears. The house is in a good neighbourhood, on a good street, and is in reasonably good shape. We expect it to sell quickly once we can get it on the market.

    As I go through the process of deconstructing mom’s house, I am reminded of a reflection my Aunt made when she did the same with grandma’s apartment. Cleaning out involves a deconstructing of life.

    Then the question comes – what to keep and what not to keep. There are so many things that had great meaning to mom, but have no context for me. I don’t know the stories behind the objects. Some are just pretty objects. Then there are those things that I do remember – the gifts I helped dad pick out or purchase for mom. Those ones I remember.

    I’m sad to think that I am taking things that are meaningful to me, but that I won’t have anyone to pass them down to. My brother and I didn’t have kids. We have cousins with kids – so some items make sense going to them, but others it is like their history is lost. The stories behind them are gone.

    I’m thankful that I spent the last three months with mom, as I had an idea of what was happening with the house. I had a sense of which contractors she was already paying, and how much she was paying. I’m thankful that mom wrote some detailed journals. The journals were sad, but also provided hits of what she wanted and how things were going.

    I’m sad that I never told mom that I understood why she called the ambulance when dad was sick. That I feel so bad for criticizing her decision on the telephone call. I really didn’t understand what it was like to be the caregiver in that position, watching a loved one suffer … at least not until I was the one in that position.

    I am glad that on the Wednesday before she died I woke up crying. I had some to the realization that I had a finite number of mom hugs left. I went into mom’s room crying, in need of a hug. That was the best hug I have ever felt, and I will carry that with me forever.

    And so now I am home, trying to pick up some of the pieces that I left hanging when I walked away from this life to be a caregiver. My desk is stacked with papers that I need to go through and figure out.

    In other news, I got accepted into Project LEAD Institute. I’m going to spend a week in San Diego (mental note, must book flights). I will spend a week wrapping my head around all the biology and science of breast cancer, but also learn more about being an advocate and meeting some amazing women in the process. I’m looking forward to it.

  • Grief is a weird thing

    Grief is a weird thing

    Grief is weird. I am struck by waves of empathy. When my dad died, the thing that made me cry the most was the thought of what my mother was going through. It was the empathy for her that brought on waves of tears more than anything else.

    Right now, what brings on the wave of tears is the puppy dogs (not really puppies as they are 10 and 12 years old). They don’t understand why their mom isn’t coming home. They keep looking for her. They don’t understand. You can tell they are sad.

    We have started to disassemble the house – going through drawers and putting things into boxes – figuring out who wants what. It is a disassembling of two lives and that is sad. Fortunately, this is not my childhood home. My parents moved out of that home at some point while they were still in Kitimat. Then they moved here in 2010. I don’t have childhood attachments to this place.

    I do have memories.

    I was struck the day after mom dies that I no longer had to get up to make sure she had her morning pills. My morning routine was mine again. I no longer had to worry about feeding her. Everyone at the house can fend for themselves – and we have a ton of food – as family has brought us stuff. That being said, at some point we’ll want to sit down and eat together again as a family.

    On Saturday when my nephew and his wife came down, we put an extra leaf in the table so there was room for the seven of us for dinner. It was mom’s last supper, and it was wonderful that we were all together for it – laughing and enjoying the company of each other. Now the extra leave has meant more space for papers to be spread out, as we try to figure out everything that needs to be done to convert mom’s assets into “the estate of” …

    On Tuesday last week I broke down. I realized that I only had so many mom hugs left. I told mom that morning that I needed a hug and broke down in tears with her for the first time. I will forever remember that hug. We had a couple of other hugs after that, but that was my last big hug from mom. Thinking about it make me cry.

    As I write this I am staring at a painting that was done by my great uncle Lem Hogue. The painting is older than I am and hung in my childhood home. I didn’t think I wanted it, but now realize that I do. It holds memories. Interesting how things hold memories.

    2018-07-04-06-21-41

    I am thankful for the last three months. I am glad I had the support of the folks at UMB who took over my courses, and the support of my PhD supervisors who understood when I had to pause my dissertation writing to care for my mother. I’m thankful for the time I spent watching movies with her and laughing, and playing “train” (Ticket to Ride on our iPads). I am also thankful that for the last three weeks I wasn’t alone. My husband has been with me here, supporting me, helping me help my mother – and stepping in when I needed a break. Again, he is my rock (and teddy bear when I need a hug).

    And now I must go and pet the puppies – because they too are experiencing grief – or maybe they are just sleeping in the corning – having come downstairs to be with us, rather than sleeping in the bedroom where one of them still spends the night (the other now sleeps in the hallway outside of mom’s room).

    Thank you everyone for your condolences, thoughts, and prayers. It is so wonderful to see just how loved mom was. It is also wonderful to know that I have so many supportive friends in my life. Hugs to all.

css.php