Cancer: an equal opportunity provider

I've written about this before... People with cancer are, for some reason inexplicable to me, tragedy magnets. "Oh! You have cancer???? Well listen to this, my (insert relation) had/ has/died of cancer! Tsk, tsk, such a dreadful disease... The whole world has cancer. It's an epidemic." Over the last year and a half, that I've been in on this Cancer Club, I've entered a whole new realm and developed not only a new circle of friends but a new authority. Cancer is a part of me that I'm learning to live with, in spite of and I'll go as far a to say, in face of.

I don't know if cancer is an epidemic. It seems like it's everywhere. Especially breast cancer. Am I just getting older or does every other woman have breast cancer or had it or might have it, and if not, their mother, grandmother, sister, cousin, or aunt had/ has it. Why? Was it always this way or is this something new? It's the cellphones or the pollution, obesity, fast food, chemicals, radiation.... Who knows? It doesn't matter.

Recently, I participated in a women's retreat with an organization that supports people with cancer. For three days and two nights, I disconnected from my life and connected with 80 women who either had or have cancer. We came from Bet Shemesh, Jerusalem, Bnai Brak, Betar, and even Beer Sheva. These are places all over Israel however most of the participants were Ultra Orthodox along with a sprinkling of traditional or non observant Israeli citizens. What a mix. When I first arrived, I admit, I was a wee bit nervous. Who would I share a room with let alone common ground for more than small talk? The workshops were deep and intense. We had music and movement, talks, and even some comedy. A few hours into the retreat, I found myself being hugged and hugging back. The older woman in the dark clothing and the wig from a long line of Chassidic ancestry became enthralled in my words of hope and faith and opened herself to share her story. The worried immigrant from Ethiopia was my roommate and we laughed together in our pajamas and later she cried in my arms. I danced with the widow who lost her only son until both our cheeks were so wet with sweat and tears.....  I found myself completely lost and absorbed in the storytelling of a seemingly needy and elderly woman I'd tried to avoid, worried she'd talk my ear off and even exchanging phone numbers and hoping to stay in touch. Beyond the layers of clothing, and the accents, and the cancer, we are "just" women. Daughters. Sisters. Mothers. Wives. 

In three days I met people that I hope to see again. Women with souls. Did the cancer DO that to them? Did cancer make us different? There's no denying that this life threatening illness has changed me forever but what I experienced with 80 strangers was love and sisterhood and what it gave me was strength and hope. Cancer brought us all together but it soon left the building. We were just women. We were just sharing and caring and giving to each other. 80 strangers.

Perhaps I do live in a bubble and Cancer has forced me into places and situations I never would have had the chance to go. The world is divided. We live with nuclear threat. In Israel, we live in close proximity of our enemies, who seek our destruction. We live in sheltered communities separated from different cultures and religious sects... And there is a lot of fear and animosity towards those who think differently, dress differently, pray differently. We are divided and we have no common ground, no place to meet. Maybe no desire to do so. The contrast was overwhelming for me! Is God Himself providing the reason and the venue? Is cancer a common denominator? Who am I to say? Cancer is, by far, the fairest equal opportunity provider. That's a fact.

The retreat was CPR for my soul. One of the greatest gifts that I brought home with me was a completely new view of all of humanity..... Yes only 80 women gave that to me. Beneath the sad eyes of a stranger, under the seemingly unfriendly gaze of another person is someone just like you. As soon as we began to share stories and meals, everything else was history. I believe that we are supposed to live together, interact, share... It's the only way to bring peace into our homes, our communities, our world. Something so simple and yet so magical. That's what I decided to bring home with me to my family. Hopefully it is contagious. I think it is.

Mania and My Happylanche

My journey has taken me on a roller coaster of experiences and emotions... and I'm pretty sure that we're just getting started. I can't speak for anyone else or their own journeys with the often deadly, cancer, however for me it has been and continues to feel like a very manic chronic condition.

This manic condition includes euphoria, blood curdling fear, uncertainty, hope and joy, sometimes anger, deep sadness, and even silliness, laughter, and fun. When I was first diagnosed, in July 2012, I had no time for any of the emotions... it was BAM! Surgery and then an absolute avalanche of happiness and then euphoria. As soon as I was able to take my first steps in my hospital room, I floated on air because I truly believed that I beat cancer. We slayed the beast! The chemotherapy, that was to come shortly after, was just a "mop up job" - kind of like insurance to make sure that any sneaky remaining cancer cells were snuffed out like the little murderers deserved.

Fast forward to the end of 2013 and roller coaster derailed. Cancer is back. Ok, but wait, there's this really cool experimental yet promising surgery called, HIPEC. And there are these promising new drugs called, PARPS, that are in advanced clinical trial stage. Then BAM! PET CT scan reveals metastasis (Metastasis, or metastatic disease, is the spread of a cancer from one organ or part to another non-adjacent organ or part) in my liver, next to my heart, and spleen, and later discovered in my diaphragm too. So HIPEC is off the table. PARPS can be my lifesaver but clinical trials available are 2/3 meaning 1/3 get a placebo (a harmless pill, medicine, or procedure prescribed more for the psychological benefit to the patient than for any physiological effect.). Thankfully, with the help of leads, my DH, and of course my personal oncologist, Prof. C, we investigated and decided on trying biologically personalized oncology with Champions Oncology teamed up with Johns Hopkins. This required a team of Shaare Zedek's excellent thoracic surgeons headed by Dr. Maher Deeb, not only a top skilled surgeon but an extremely kind and caring man. Thankfully, 2 cancerous samples were removed and grafted into mice. The mice arrived safely in Baltimore, USA, and we're waiting for the completion of the process and praying for success at finding a treatment for me.

It's been a month since surgery. The pathology on the infiltrated lymph node came back and one of the things we learned is that the current cancer is hormone receptive which means I should, in theory, stop taking HRT aka estrogen. Plenty of women on earth go through menopause and never take HRT. They experience what they experience and move on. Great. Lucky them. Surgically induced menopause is a nightmare for me. I experience many things, the worst being extreme nausea. Women who had nausea in early pregnancy can understand what I'm talking about. AND THAT... is what kicked off my bout of a manic nosedive to the depths of despair. Nausea, exhaustion, depression; deep and dark.

Time to move on. I'm not staying there. It's not fair to my husband, my kids, my family, or myself. Under medical guidance, I am continuing to take estrogen - for now.

I feel like now is a perfect time to address a few things. 

First of all, cancer is a killer.
 
If you've ever (G-d forbid) had cancer and you've survived it, YOU are very very lucky! AND I'm happy to hear all about it.
 
If you have a friend or a grandparent, a neighbor or some distant cousin who once had or currently has cancer.... do me a favor, save it. Your stories not only do not help me but they upset me. They drain me and make me want to screen your calls and delete your unread e mails. Harsh? No. Why would someone with stage 4 cancer benefit from sad stories and tales about other people's struggles? I have a limit to how much sadness I can handle in my own life. I have real friends in my inner circle who are struggling with illness - these are real to me. At this time in my life, I just can't add to it.
 
Please don't try to raise my spirits by informing me that there are people worse off than I or that any given person can be struck by lightening, or a bus, or a bomb.... seriously? I HAVE CANCER! It's happening now, today, 24-7. Should I really be worried about lightening or buses? Will that make me grateful or thankful? No, it doesn't. It's just insensitive. It hurts me and makes me turn the volume down on my imaginary hearing aids.
 
Lastly, please don't apologize or feel bad for "not being there for you". I get a few messages like that and honestly, I don't notice people NOT being there for me. I notice ALL the people that are. So, busy moms and overwhelmed people... do not feel guilty or bad or worried! If and when you are here for me, that's awesome and I love and appreciate it BUT I won't notice if you can't be and I certainly won't hold it against you. Every act of love and kindness feels wonderful yet none of it is taken for granted or ever expected. Just do what feels right to you. I am not keeping tabs on who doesn't....

Anyhoooooow, I'm going to try my best to beat this. I have to stay healthy and hopeful, realistic, and keep on keeping on. EVERYTHING else is in place. Wonderful family and friends! Supportive and loving people all around me both in person and afar! I know that studies have proven that mindfullness helps fight disease. I want to rebuild my happy armor and gear up for the next battle. I wrote earlier, on Facebook, that I want to kick off a Happy Avalanche - a Happylanche! Let's see what that means.... to be announced!

What's the Point?

a barren wasteland

Nobody chooses to have an illness, a disease, and definitely not cancer. Once you have it, you can either let it consume you and become your every waking thought and being.... or.... or.... or.... what?!! Just move on? Deal with it and move on with life, with parent-teacher meetings and laundry, and paying the bills? Making snacks and lunches for the kids, sweeping the crumbs from the breakfast table? I don't know, maybe there are super and amazing people out there who do do it. I'm sure there must be but I'm not one of them.

I have more love and support than could be imagined. My mother moved in with us for weeks at a time; doting on my children and on me.... even when my other family members needed her more, she put my needs first. My friends and neighbors arrange us meals and embrace us with love, acts of kindness, and prayer. Entire evenings of prayer! Multiple entire evenings of prayer FOR ME! People who know me (and people who never met me) recite daily tehillim (psalms) in hope of invoking G-d's mercy and healing on me. My family, in Israel, lift me up and are here for me both physically and emotionally. My family, in America, are incredible sources of love, support, and care. My medical team of doctors and surgeons address every issue, worry, and need. My husband dotes on me. Even our dog, Pepper, follows me from spot to spot and rests her big head in my lap and lets me hug and cuddle her whenever I choose.

But I still have cancer.
It's still here.
No matter how much love and inspiration and kindness we create....
And I've sunken into this quicksand of, what's the point?  I'm planning to enter a whole lot of pain and suffering in my near future whether it be chemo or surgery or not being "allowed" to take HRT anymore... AND with all my faith and love in my heart... I've seen this journey play out for so many others. The pain The suffering. The pain and suffering of so many people, in my life, for one sick me.......? What's the point?! I'm useless to myself and my family in this state. What if I'm just going to suffer and die in a year or two or three or 5. What's the point?