Disclaimer:

This is my story and my journey; these are my viewes and my opinions only! I am not, nor do I profess to be a doctor, or a theologian. Please use your own discretion when reading these posts. I didn't survive cancer to die of stress!



Monday, March 17, 2014

Eight years and I'm Still Thankful


As an ovarian cancer survivor it took a long time for me to tell my story. Now it’s hard to get me to not talk about it. Not everyone is comfortable sharing their story. That’s all good, and I understand that, there are still some parts of my cancer experience that are too personal to share. Every survivor has a story and this is mine. Ovarian Cancer crept into my life with illusive persistence. At the time of my diagnosis I had already endured months of pain and anxiety. My relationships were changing and my emotions were in a constant state of turmoil. It is little wonder that this disease is sometimes called the silent killer. For a year I suffered all the classic symptoms of ovarian cancer abdominal bloating, nausea, indigestion, feeling full quickly, pelvic or abdominal pain, and constipation. I was back and forth to my PCP thinking that, "Maybe this is something serious." I'd also spend hours reading online about symptoms, get overwhelmed, and decide I was making a big deal out of nothing. I believe that if I knew about ovarian cancer, the symptoms and the lack of diagnostic testing, I would have been more vigilant and realized that the changes in my body were not "silent" but were there to make me pay attention. It wasn’t until attending a Lunch & Learn at my job sponsored by the Georgia Ovarian Cancer Alliance and getting one of their risk and symptom cards did I know something was seriously wrong.

My diagnosis came on March 17, 2006 after having my left ovary, fallopian tube, omentum and appendix removed. When I woke up from surgery, I was told by Gynecologic Oncologist Dr. Cyril Spann that I had stage 2c ovarian cancer- a rare form called a germ cell (endodermal yolk sac) tumor. The next four months were tough for me and everybody around me. I'm one of the ones who didn't get too overwhelmed by my treatment program. Don’t get me wrong chemotherapy sucked but it was manageable. I had three twenty-one day cycles of the worst chemo drugs imaginable BEP (Etopiside, Bleomycin and Cisplatin). All of my hair fell out and I always nauseous and tired. I had some pretty rough days; depression and anxiety are to be expected, and I was no exception. My life as I knew it would never be the same again, no matter the outcome. I never planned on becoming an ovarian cancer survivor because, like most people, I never planned on having ovarian cancer. I did my best to stay positive, and I kept telling myself that I had plenty for which to be thankful - after all, mine was an early stage cancer, NED (No Evidence of Disease) was extremely likely, the treatment had been easier than I expected... But chemo still sucked! I was also grieving the loss of an ovary (and  fertility), the loss of the future I wanted, my hair, the time it was taking for my hair to grow back before I could feel like me again... I felt like my life had been put on pause to deal with cancer. I wondered if I had caused it somehow, and how would I make sure I didn't get it again? As I began adjusting to my new life as an ovarian cancer survivor, I began to look for ways to deal with the new me.

Now eight years later it's mind-boggling how far removed from my ovarian cancer diagnosis but yet how close I remain.  I still can't believe that was me, chemo bound, bald and scared out of my mind. I don't ever want to lose my connection with ovarian cancer, I hate it...but I love who I've become because of it. There are still those moments that I get that sinking feeling. Even as I write this, my mind is racing and the tears are flowing...I'm okay now, yet there was a real chance I wouldn't be. Having a disease like ovarian cancer has provided me an opportunity to evaluate my life. It also affords me an opportunity to think about my relationship with God. I grew-up a Southern Baptist, but being told you have ovarian cancer put new meaning into those prayers that can sometimes become customary. Someone once asked me to explain to them how I could believe in God. As I sat thinking I was like, hey that’s not something I can do. If you’re looking for the logic in belief, it’s not there, but I do know that God cares for me and that He has a good place awaiting me when it’s my time to go. I credit God, my medical care givers, my family members and my own stubbornness for my survival of this disease. I truly believe that this cancer journey/war has been a blessing. My biggest blessing/supporter has been my husband of seventeen years, Erik. He has been with me every step of the way from connecting my IVs, driving me here and there, and pushing me at times when I had no will. All of this has not been without a few choice words from both of us, but no one has been privileged to have more love than I have. 

When I think about this eight year cancer journey/war, I realize that even with the ups and downs, the surgeries, and the chemotherapy side effects, I’ve gained many blessings out of this journey/war. This cancer journey/war is mine, no one else’s. I’ve fought it and I own it. I’m going to keep talking about it through advocacy as long as God allows me to do so. Advocacy has given me a tool to continue fighting this disease, not only for me but for those women who have lost their battle, those women who are recently diagnosed, those women who may be at risk and those women who are at risk and don’t know it. This is not to say that advocacy is preventive, because I have lost friends who were just as passionate and committed to this cause as I am. I am only saying that it has helped me. Speaking out works - by getting involved, breast cancer survivors increased funding for breast cancer, which has led to new treatments and tests that are saving more lives than ever before. We are doing the same in the ovarian cancer community. As advocates for ovarian cancer we are educating women and some healthcare providers about ovarian cancer, changing public policy, raising research dollars and making a difference!

So for all of you who want to know why after eight years I’m still talking about ovarian cancer…as the current president of the board of directors of the Georgia Ovarian Cancer Alliance (yes the same organization that did that Lunch & Learn full, circle moment); I intend to continue to repay this gift I was given in hopes that I can prevent what happened to me from happening to other women. I want all women to be aware of the symptoms of ovarian cancer. I will continue to raise my voice and share my story. Ovarian cancer or any form of cancer doesn’t deserve to suck all of the life out of you, your family and friends.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

It’s been seven years!


It's mind-boggling how far removed from my ovarian cancer diagnosis I am after seven years but yet how close I remain.  I still can't believe that was me, chemo bound, bald and scared out of my mind. I don't ever want to lose my connection with ovarian cancer, I hate it...but I love who I've become because of it. There are still those moments that I get that sinking feeling. Even as I write this, my mind is racing and the tears are flowing...I'm okay now, yet there was a real chance I wouldn't be.
Having a disease like ovarian cancer has provided me an opportunity to assess my life. It also affords me an opportunity to think about my relationship with God. I grew-up a Southern Baptist, but being told you have ovarian cancer put new meaning into those prayers that can sometimes become customary. Someone once asked me to explain to them how I could believe in God. As I sat thinking I was like, hey that’s not something I could do. If you’re looking for the logic in belief, it’s not there, but I do know that God cares for me and that He has a good place awaiting me when it’s time to go. I credit God, my medical care givers, and my own stubbornness for my survival of this disease.

 I truly believe that this cancer journey/war has been a blessing. My biggest blessing/supporter has been my husband of seventeen years, Erik. He has been with me every step of the way from connecting my IVs, driving me here and there, and pushing me at times when I had no will. All of this has not been without a few choice words from both of us, but no one has been privileged to have more love than I have.
 When I think about this seven year cancer journey/war, I realize that even with the ups and downs, the surgeries, and the chemotherapy side effects, that I’ve gained many blessings out of this journey/war. This cancer journey/war is mine, no one else’s. I’ve fought it, I own it, and I’m going to keep fighting it as long as God allows me to do so.

Friends I pray that whatever your journey is, that you are navigating your way through with the love and support of loved ones, enjoying and living in the moment!
 

Saturday, March 17, 2012

What a Difference 6 Years Makes.. My 6yr "cancerversary"!

I am now an expert in something I never wanted to be an expert in; ovarian cancer. I wish I could say that I didn't know anyone else who's been diagnosed with this disease, but that is not the case. I often contemplate what can I do to help others prevent and survive ovarian cancer. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to this dreaded disease. Even so, I have lots of information and experiences to share with you about it. Though I am incredibly sorry that more women have been diagnosed, I am glad that I can provide some help and support based on my own experience. In honor of those women I know who didn't make it and as a survivor I have a responsibility to make the best use of my life... to help as many women/men as I can ... to live strong with or without ovarian cancer. For survivorship to be meaningful to me it requires a certain level of lasting responsibility.
My world has become broader. I had the pleasure of meeting ovarian cancer survivors from around the country. This year I did a television interview, wrote a newspaper and magazine article, was interviewed for a pod cast, did several health fairs and even contemplated writing a book. I continue to sit on the Board of Directors of the Georgia Ovarian Cancer Alliance (GOCA). I participated in the GOCA’s Survivors walk, GOCA’s Survivors Teaching Students program, GOCA’s 1st annual "Shaken, Not Stirred" gala and the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance "Power is Teal" conference held in Washington D.C. I got to be part of the world in a bigger way than I have before. The woman who started this race is definitely not the same woman who is finishing it!!!

Know your body, know the facts and help spread the word. Support the research, develop a screening tool and help find a cure!

BEAT Ovarian Cancer
B – bloating that is persistent and doesn't come and go
E – eating less and feeling fuller
A – abdominal pain
T – talk to your PCP or GYNE

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

14th Annual Ovarian Cancer National Alliance Turning Promise into Action Conference

I’m back from the 14th Annual Ovarian Cancer National Alliance Turning Promise into Action conference, my second one....And yes I'm already planning next year’s. The Doctors gave out excellent and easy to understand info on the latest breakthroughs in ovarian cancer and ovarian cancer research. I met some of the most knowledgeable, and inspiring women. NED the band was awesome. As we danced and sang the night away, I fell in love with another woman’s Gyn Oc.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

What Cancer Cannot Do

Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.
             Author, Unknown

Friday, March 18, 2011

5yr Cancerversary

For the past several weeks, I thought about my approaching cancerversary with a combination of reverence, anxiety, grief, delight, and liberation. Sounds crazy, huh? Well welcome to my “new normal” the life of a cancer survivor. When you are a cancer survivor, you have this date engraved in your memory like you birthday, wedding day, September 11, the day Marvin Gaye died.  You'll never forget where you were or what you were doing when you heard the words, "You have cancer." For me that date is March 17, 2006, a kind of new birthday. My life as I knew it would never be the same again, no matter the outcome. I never planned on becoming an ovarian cancer survivor because, like most people, I never planned on having ovarian cancer. When you're a young woman, getting on with your life, cancer let alone ovarian cancer is the last thing on your mind.

Although this cancer journey has been long and some times frightening, along the way I have met many amazing women who I am proud to call sister-friends. Today I will spend time quietly remembering some of those women who didn't make it this far in their journey. We are all at different stages of our cancer journeys, but united in our desire to be there for each other through this rollercoaster ride our lives have now become. From the time I first heard the words "you have cancer", I have been surrounded with love and support. Support I am still humbled by today. From prayers, meals, cards, to those who would sit quietly with me in the chemo room...I have loved it all.

This year I have reached the quintessential 5-year mark where cancers survivors are considered “out of the woods”. (Whew) What helps me find meaning in all of this is a deep desire to give something back, to help others with a diagnosis of cancer. I have a story that needs to be shared so that others will not feel alone in their fight against cancer. So armed with the lessons I have learned from my cancer experience, I look to the future and vow to make the best life I can for myself and those I care about and in the process to hopefully touch the lives of others with some of the compassion and love I was given. The more I do, the more I want to do.