Today is a pretty remarkable day in my life. The day my life was changed, utterly and completely – nine years ago. When I think about that, I am brought to tears. After all I wasn’t supposed to be here. If it weren’t for luck and scientific breakthrough, I wouldn’t be. There are times I wonder why I am, still here that is. If it were any other kind of anniversary, I would be celebrating with a party or a cake. Because it’s my cancerversary, my day is spent reflecting on my blessings and thinking of all the dear friends I have lost along the way.
In years past, I have been so busy that the day has almost gone by without notice, can you imagine? A day not thinking about cancer, a normal day. I don’t have many of those. 3,285 not normal days, just off, abnormal like the cancer. Some days I feel every second. On other days, time flies.
I live a condensed life, condensed experience, condensed joy.
This year is kind of a monumental year. I turn 40 in just more than a month. 40! Middle aged (when did that happen :o)! Believe me, I didn’t think I’d ever see my 35th, let alone my 40th. When I was diagnosed nine years ago, I didn’t think I’d get to do a lot of things!
I didn’t think I’d ever be able to buy a car or a house. I didn’t think I’d get to travel. I didn’t think I’d get the chance to fall in love. I didn’t think I’d ever advocate for change. What did I know!? I had no idea what potential my life had. I had no idea of what I could achieve. I had no idea what life truly held. I had no idea what it meant to live. I mean really live.
It shouldn’t take critical or terminal illness to teach us that lesson. Why can’t we all live genuinely, authentically, passionately, no time for B.S. kind of lives.
When you realize that time is really the precious commodity that everyone is after, you begin to value it over everything else. Things are just thing and are transient. Money can be made, of course it can buy comfort, but it’s just a thing. Time on the other hand provides us with opportunity. Opportunity to spend it on doing what we love. Opportunity to spend it wisely. I say that, because for us, it’s limited.
Our clocks start ticking they day we are born. So we can chase money and fancy things, and spend all that time working and running in circles. Or. We can open our eyes and see how beautiful the sunrise is, especially when you are with someone you love. How magnificent it is to experience the cultures of the world. How wonderful it is to be loved.
I wouldn’t be here without Love. The love (and kindness) of my medical team. Love from my family and friends. The love of my dogs. The love of my life. Thank you all! I couldn’t do it alone. I know together, we move forward.
Its Valentine’s Day (and Ash Wednesday – irony?!), I had planned to write about some of
the struggles of dating and cancer, but I am sick with the flu and my fever addled brain isn’t functioning as diligently as I’d like. So to avoid me writing nonsense, I will repost what I wrote last year and save that topic for my next post. If there are any specific questions you might have regarding dating and cancer, please send them to me and I will do my best to address them in the post. Until then, whether you are spending the day with your valentine or going solo, know that you are loved.
Be well xo
On this St. Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share with you the story of how my husband and I met.
Now before I get to the meat and potatoes of the story, I must give you a little backgrounder. Before I got diagnosed with cancer, I didn’t date. Especially online dating. Like many, I had my reasons, but mainly, it was because I was so fracking busy I had no time to socialize with my friends, never mind strangers. So at that time, I figured, if something came around, it came around. My focus was my career. Of course, when I got sick, the main focus was on that, and getting better. So again, dating, not high on the priority list.
When I got sick again, I thought I was a goner. I figured it was time to get out there. I mean if I was going to die, I may as well have a little fun before kicking it. I decided to put my profile up on a few dating sites. I relegated myself to knowing I’d likely meet a few wackadoodles, because such is life. If that happened, I’d just politely thank and excuse myself and quickly extricate myself from the situation, pick up the tab and be gone, thank you very much. After all I have terminal lung cancer, I don’t have time to waste!
So here comes the good stuff.
I winked at Patrick and he winked back at me, at least that was how it was done on that particular site. I know cheesy!
Shortly after the wink, he sent me a message kindly asking if I would like his number. I of course said yes. I anticipated a call from him, but a week went by, then two, so I figured he had lost interest and didn’t think on it too much. Ok fail numero uno. No problem.
Then out of the blue, about a month later, I get a phone call and its Patrick. I almost didn’t answer because I was waiting to go into an appointment when he called, but he was so apologetic, I couldn’t resist. He said he had been thinking about calling all month, but he had been so swamped at work that he could never find the right time. He called because he had a few days off for Thanksgiving and his birthday and wanted to meet me. I offered to take him for coffee for his birthday. It was arranged that we’d meet at the Dark Horse Espresso Bar at 4 on his birthday.
As left my house to meet him, I remember thinking “wouldn’t it be funny if we ended up on the same streetcar?!” It would since I was coming from the west end of the city and he was coming from the east. So when I approached the streetcars at Spadina Station, I texted him to let him know I was on my way. He replied, so am I. There was such a crowd waiting to get on streetcars that day, I decided to wait for the crowd to die down and I got on the next one. I got on and went to stand where I usually stand at the back of the car in front of the back doors.
Even though I had waited, it was still jam-packed. After the streetcar passed College, a bunch of people got off and there was some space. So I texted him again saying, “I just passed College, I’ll see you at Dark Horse.” He replied with “me too.” When I looked up from my phone I spotted a guy that met the description Patrick had given me. I chuckled to myself because he was literally 5 feet in front of me.
Upon my realization, I texted “Are you wearing a grey hat?”
“I think you are on my streetcar.”
At which time he had moved directly in front of me, but had his back turned. I watched as he looked about the streetcar trying to find me. Just before our stop, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, looked at me and said “You’re short.” (Oh God…here we go) “I’m sorry, I just mean usually girls I’ve met are taller than me. You’re awesome!” (Ok, you get one…and you recovered well).
At Dark Horse the conversation came fast and easy. He made me laugh, I felt like we knew each other already. We talked so much, we shut down the shop. At this point, I didn’t want the date to end, so I said “hey, are you hungry, I am, we should grab a bite.”
“Yeah! Absolutely.” So we walked a short distance on Queen St. and stopped in at little bistro. Again, the conversation came easy and we ate and talked and ate and talked until it was time for them to close.
We had met at 4 that afternoon and now it was 11:30, but time flew by so fast! He walked me to the subway, but before we said our good byes he says, “My room mate is throwing me a birthday party. Do you want to come?” As much I really didn’t want to say good night, but I was going to Ottawa the next day for a conference and really did need to get home. The funny thing was, he should have been at that party way earlier on that evening. I guess he didn’t want the date to end either. We parted ways and I was of to Ottawa.
The next day sent me a text me to say what a good time he had and we chatted away the whole weekend and agreed to see each other again. When I got off the train three days later, he met me with snacks, because he knew I had been on a train for 5 hours and I might be hungry (Swoon). He then said he had dinner awaiting me.
As I wandered his apartment, I noticed the pictures he had of family, it was really nice. I knew that I liked him, I also knew I had a huge monkey on my back! I had been tormented all weekend and all though our date. I felt so deceptive by keeping my cancerous life from him. Did I wait to tell him, or do I break the news now so he’s not invested. From all I have seen, I need to do it sooner than later. He is too nice to get hurt.
After dinner, as we sat on the couch, I knew it was my opportunity (well it was nice meeting you), I took a deep breath and said, “I have something to tell you.”
“Oh, is everything alright?”
“Yes. But. Ok, how do I….It’s nothing that has to do with you, it actually me. I’m…I’m not an alien, but I am a mutant.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m a mutant, I have ALK rearranged stage 4 lung cancer. So I’d understand if you don’t want to see me again.” He took my hand and looked at me and said “My friend’s wife has cancer too, I think you guys would make great friends. I really like you, I’m not going anywhere.”
About a year ago, I wrote about Awareness and Action, That they are vastly different things. One is the actual act of something, the other is passive, and involves doing nothing. That’s right, nada, Zilch. Zero things are done. Bupkis. So in the dying hours of this Giving Tuesday, I want to remind people of just that. We should act and give, not just today, because we have been sold on a “gimmick”, but because we want to. Often even every day. It can be big or small. It also doesn’t have to be money, it can be time or a good deed. We have gotten too used to throwing awareness around, that nothing really happens. Lots and lots of inaction.
So why do we need a reminder?! Goodness and giving should be a no brainer, right?!
Is it that we get so wrapped up in our own drama, that we don’t see, or make time? Are we keeping score? If we are, then we shouldn’t, because life owes us nothing.
So I’m reminding you, Awareness is great, be aware, but also act.
I’m leaving this here, because I have to.
Be kind. Be good. Be present. Be generous. Give. Be well.
It has been a little while since I have posted and much has happened since the last post. One of the most notable things is, I was selected and awarded the IASLC’s Patient Advocacy Travel Award. This award allows me to travel to Yokohama, Japan for their annual World Conference on Lung Cancer. JAPAN!!! I cannot tell you how excited I am. For one, I get to travel to a country that I have always wanted to visit. I get to soak up the latest information on lung cancer research and practice. I get to network with other patients, advocates and experts in the field of lung cancer research, and I get to go to Japan. Have I mentioned I’m going to Japan!?
Seriously though, I want to take this opportunity to share what the IASLC does and let everyone know about their Foundation Cancer Care Team Award.
The International Association for the Study of Lung Cancer (IASLC) is the only global organization dedicated to the study of lung cancer. Founded in 1974, the association’s membership includes more than 6,500 lung cancer specialists in over 100 countries. IASLC members work to enhance the understanding of lung cancer among scientists, members of the medical community and the public. IASLC publishes the Journal of Thoracic Oncology, a valuable resource for medical specialists and scientists who focus on the detection, prevention, diagnosis and treatment of lung cancer.* For their mission statement, more information and resources, please go to their website.
Nominate Your Care Team Now!
The IASLC is excited to announce the creation of a new award, the IASLC Foundation Cancer Care Team Award, designed to recognize outstanding patient care and honor multidisciplinary teams working together to provide the highest quality cancer care.
Nominations will be accepted from all over the world. The winning team will select one representative to attend the IASLC 18th World Conference on Lung Cancer, for which IASLC will provide monetary travel support. Learn more and nominate a team for the award. Please contact them with any questions: email@example.com.
Honour, Unite, Inspire. It’s 12:01, the dawn of the 6th World Lung Cancer Day and I struggled trying to write this. I wondered if I should write about numbers and facts, or maybe about how lung cancer is the most common cancer globally*. That of the estimated 1.8 million new cases (in 2012)*, most (58%) occur in less developed countries*. That it is the most fatal cancer globally*. However, it might be more meaningful to tell you what “Honor, Unite, Inspire”, means for me, a lung cancer patient.
I write and share about living with lung cancer is because, I truly feel that if my experience, struggles and joys can touch or inspire just one person, then I have done my job as a good human. I think back to when I was diagnosed, and throughout treatment, I felt so very alone. I think of all the people out there with that same diagnosis, and how they too must have felt isolation and loneliness. I think about all the questions and fears I had, and no one to advise me, or let me know that what I was feeling was normal. I needed blogs like this, connection to patients who have survived and were surviving. Back then, it was hard to find. Now, not so much. Thankfully, but we still have work to do. Its for this, we have a Day like today.
Everyday I am blessed to see, I get to honour those who have given me strength, those who live with this disease, and those I have lost to it (sadly there are so many). Their courage and grace, push me to be better and instil me with passion to advocate for others living with this disease. It helps me channel anger in to action, frustration into hope. One of the reasons I advocate is so that those who are newly diagnosed don’t have to. So that they won’t fall into the cracks, and so that they don’t have to face the stigma of their diagnosis. There it is, the “S-word”, that assumption that lung cancer is our fault. That deadly misconception, that impedes compassion and funding. That idea that adds unnecessary stress
and shame on a patient and their family. It is for this, we need a Day like today.
It has been over 8 years since my original diagnosis, I know that I am alive in part to where I live. I am very lucky to live in a country that has a health care system that is accessible to all of its residents. I know it isn’t perfect, we have problems too, but its still pretty damn good.
Therefore, it would behove me if I didn’t point out the disparity between first world nations and developing nations. We are often so focused on our own problems, that we forget to think of those of others. Here, we might concern ourselves with accessing the latest and greatest treatments, there they may worry they will get treatment at all. Many countries don’t have the infrastructure and provide basic care, people may not get
a proper diagnosis, let alone treatment that costs thousands of dollars a month. Their governments like ours focus PSAs on smoking cessation, the difference it that is their man way to “treat” lung cancer, after all you don’t have to treat the patients you don’t have. Here we concern ourselves with late effects or secondary cancers, there patients may worry they and their family will be shunned by their community, because there they think cancer is contagious. It is for this, we need a Day like today.
Until, we can ensure patients everywhere are being screened or
diagnosed quickly and comprehensively, are receiving the appropriate standard of care and support, are receiving as much funding as every other common cancer group, and we have either increased the survival rate to above 50%, or reduced the number of new diagnoses, we will need a Day like this.
Today is Pride (at least was a few hours ago) and on a day where everyone is celebrating coming out of the closet, I have gone into mine for a long over due clean out. Both literally and metaphorically.
As I painfully try-on every stitch of clothing I have, I am coming to the realization that there is way too much I’m not wearing, way to much that doesn’t quite fit, and way too much that’s way too small and as I look at the piles that have formed on my bed I realize that I’ve been holding on to these things that don’t serve me and actually burden my life too hard. It dawns on me that when you hold on to something too tightly, there’s no space for anything else. This can be clothes or thoughts or identities.
This past year has probably been the hardest I’ve ever had. Harder than when I was diagnosed, harder than recurrence, harder than when my father was sick and dying, and even harder than all the years living through his alcoholism.
This year I have really struggled with my mental health. The following will likely come as a shock to many in my life who care very deeply for me and I want to assure you that I am in counseling and I am on medication, and would never ever actually hurt myself. I am also very sorry you are reading this rather than hearing it from me personally. Some things are impossible to say face to face and can seem easier to write it down, trust me its not. Up until this point I have hidden this admission from almost everyone, including myself.
My internal dialogue this year has been different than in the past. Lately I have asked myself many times “what am doing this for?” (as I take my trial meds) or tell myself “I just want to crawl under a rock and die” or “I wish I was dead”. Scary thoughts. Logically I do not want to die, I want to live. In fact I want to live in vivid colours, openly and honestly. Admitting to myself that these dark thoughts are happening is a start. It is the number one thing I will address with my psychiatrist, because I want to live.
So whatever the skeletons are, go into the closet and bring them out. Shine the brightest light on those demons and then let them go. Let them go so you can embrace life.
To all my friends celebrating Pride, have a great day and always be proud of who you are and what made you.
To all my friends celebrating Eid, may you have a blessed day.
Today is May the 4th and for us Star Wars Fans out there it’s Star Wars Day and boy did I did feel at one with the Force. For a short time today I was truly happy because I was finally able to see my Oncologist and not one of her fellows (even though they are all lovely and very competent) because it’s just not the same. For months now, I have been struggling with being just good and not NED (No Evidence of Disease), it’s been quite an ordeal. This is in part because I have had access to the scan results and the fellows (bless them) have been saying “it looks good, no change,” the reports of course say that the nodules in slide x remain unchanged, so of course I see remain and think “well there’s cancer there!”
It was a tough pill to swallow (literally pills) going from being a super responder on Xalcori (yes its a thing) to just being good. For an over-achiever, this is not ok, especially when Lorlatinib is supposed to be a better drug. Well today I found I wasn’t just good, I’m a super responder and I’m NED!!! Hooray!!! So all that worry and mental gymnastics for nothing. Now that I’m relieved for myself, I can channel my energy into outrage for my friends in the US.
Maybe you haven’t heard or don’t know that the Republicans and the House of Representatives voted to support a heinous bill to replace the Affordable Care Act (AKA Obamacare). They voted despite not knowing if it would save lives or harm people. If you are looking for impartial, you won’t find it here! Many and by many I mean millions of people will have to pay tens of thousands of dollars more to even get insurance or care based on their pool.If I lived there I would be in the two to tiers and would have to pay at least 150K a year and that doesn’t accept for the expensive pill I need to live. Even if I was at the top of my pay grade this is way more than I could afford, so without it I would die. Thats what my friends are facing. It sickens me! It also makes me so incredibly thankful that I was born in and live in Canada. Our system isn’t perfect, but you can bet your ass that if you’re in trouble you will be guaranteed care.
I wanted so much for this post to be happy and for the most part it is. I wanted to just update everyone and summarize my weekend at the DC Hope Summit, but the more I think about is, the sicker I feel.
Last weekend I was so incredibly priviledged to be able to attend LUNGevity’s Hope Summit in DC through a donor scholarship (and the very hard work of resident hope dealer Katie Brown and everyone at LUNGevity). It was an incredible experience! It’s not often that one is able to meet so many others like me. There were people from all stripes, young, old, survivor, supporter, newly diagnosed, those who have been around the block and everything in between. Before this, I couldn’t have even imagined having 340 other survivors and caregivers in one place. It was truly beautiful and tragic all a the same time. Beautiful because there were so many of us, tragic because there was so many of us. Its complicated.
I almost always need a few days to decompress and process my experiences because they really are massively emotional experiences, and I say that in the most positive way. There were so many ALKies like me, and ROS1ders, those with EGFR, Cmet and those without a driver mutation, regardless of who you were, there was someone there that knew and understood your experience.
All the YA’s except me oops 😦
Young Adults W/ LC
It was just wonderful to see everyone talking and sharing, crying and laughing, taking hope from hearing someone else’s story and sharing their own, maybe empowering someone else. Many new advocates were born over the weekend and some old ones refuelled. Now, more than ever, they will be needed.
I have always marvelled at the close knittedness of the lung cancer community (so many of us knew each other online before ever meeting face to face) and how much sharing happens, how much progress is being made with so little. So little attention. So little funding, and yet research has happened, awareness is happening, action is being taken and people are living better and starting to live longer. But there is still a long road ahead. But we are just starting and bills like the AHCA is a massive setback to us and to all others who are vulnerable and live on the knife’s edge. So my thoughts are with all of you who hoped for the best, and are hearing the worst, resist my friends. Resist with every breath.