Operation fuck kancer: Radiation done, now what?

On March 26, a surgeon sliced cancer out of my body. Seven months to the day later, I completed my final radiation treatment.

And now I feel lost, which is why it's taken me so long to write this post.

The "Yay, I'm done!" feeling faded quickly and has been replaced by "Now what?"

The physical scars

The treatments are done, but my skin is feeling battered under my arm where it has blistered along the scar where my lymph nodes were removed.

I was doing well everywhere else until a run last Sunday, when my bra strap rubbed the skin raw where the lymph nodes around the collar bone had been zapped. So no running for me now until my skin heals, which I'm not terribly happy about.

My friend Sharon, who is one of my running mates, suggested the stationary bike at the gym. Which I swear I'll do. Not relishing the thought of smelling everyone else's sweat, rather than the clean rain air.

Guess I am a runner now, eh?

The emotional scars

A lot of cancer warriors talk about the "new normal". I now get it. Life can never return to what it was pre-cancer.

While I don't miss feeling like a piece of crap after too many glasses of wine on a ladies' night, I do miss having the option of making myself feel like crap.

I don't miss being overweight, but I miss being able to enjoy a pumpkin spice latte without thinking I can feel a tumour pop up the moment the delectable beverage hits my lips.

I don't miss eating habits that make my stomach feel like it was full of cement, but I miss having a pre-made bowl of soup with my son when he's not feeling well without the guilt.

Welcome to the corner

I now feel like I've been painted into a corner by fear. I realized this after reading a lovely post by Heidi at Our House for Coffee this morning.

I'm so scared of making a bad decision which morphs into making several bad decisions. I'm scared of undoing the good habits I've worked hard to form over the last several months. I'm scared of getting cancer again, worse. I'm scared if I do have a recurrence, I'll blame myself and give up.

I don't know what to do to shake this fear. A bit of fear could keep me honest, yes. But too much is suffocating.

Look ahead

My friend Elise posted a link to Gord Downie's recent interview with Wendy Mesley about the Hip's latest album. Downie's wife has also been battling breast cancer.

Elise posted it with one simple question: "How's George doing?"

Thanks again, Elise for sharing Gordie's interview with me. This post is dedicated to all the partners out there, who have a loved one who is going through or who has been through cancer treatments. Sending much love and wishing peace to you all. May you find your ability to look ahead.

Parenting through kancer

This post has been brewing for a long time. I haven't written it out of fear. Fear of admitting that I'm less than perfect. Fear of criticism.

Parenting at the best of times is challenging. But parenting with cancer? It's shit.

If you think I'm fishing to be told how wonderful I am, I'm most definitely not. I'm hoping that by putting these words down, I can try to get the bad feelings out of my system and let them go.

I have met women who share how much of a bonding experience cancer was for their family. Everyone together as a unit, ready to fight the evil cancer. My reality is I feel like cancer is trying its best to tear my family apart.

These days, more often than not, I feel like I'm doing a terrible job.

Though I'm physically strong given what my body has been through the past several months, emotionally, I'm all over the place.

Like most 5 year olds, mine likes to test the boundaries. He started kindergarten and has had some challenging days that have resulted in his being sent to the office.

I'm doing all the things I've been told are the right things. I've talked to the teacher, to the counsellors, and to the principal. We've been to the cancer agency's children's group. We've tried to keep some semblance of structure at home.

But sometimes, I feel all this effort doesn't mean a damn. And I'm at a point where I'm tired of everything: a never-ending roster of appointments, trying different types of counselling, being told that everything we're experiencing is "normal".

I have become a more patient person in many ways - stopping to collect chestnuts on the way to school instead of trying to make it there in record time to prepare for my return to work, for instance - but I still have not-so-stellar moments. I yell when a hug is needed. I cry when I it's time to buck up. I stress when I should let go.

Trying so hard to make everything better is, well, trying.

I have this little person who depends on me for so much. My biggest fear of all is that while I'm fighting to get myself better, I am letting him down.

Thanks, Henry Champ

I remember interviewing Henry Champ when I was only a year or so out of journalism school.

It must have been shortly before his retirement from his gig as CBC Newsworld's Washington D.C. correspondent. The Lewinsky-Clinton scandal was making headlines around the world, and we spoke about why Canada seemed to lack salacious news when compared to our neighbours to the south.

What I remember more clearly is Champ's affable nature, his willingness to chat with a green reporter he had never spoken with before. He didn't rush me off the phone, and was the type of person I'd love chatting with over a coffee given the chance.

Working in Ottawa on Parliament Hill, there were certainly seasoned reporters I saw every day who didn't seem to know me from a hole in the ground. So Champ made a real impression on me.

I know I thanked him for his time. But I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Henry Champ again. Rest in peace, Champ.

Putting on my 'brows

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror the other day sans makeup and nearly screamed.

When I first realized I might lose my eyebrows months ago, I thought I might try a Carol-Burnett-does-Nora-Desmond look.

I mean, if one is going to lose one's 'brows, why not have fun with it?

With eyebrows on my mind, I thought I would share some 'brow-related humour with you today.

Uncle Leo

One day at the office, I was talking about the whole eyebrow situation. My colleague Dragos warned me to be careful, or I could end up looking like Uncle Leo from Seinfeld.

Milhouse

Milhouse from The Simpsons has eyebrows that constantly get him into trouble.

Real-life crazy 'brows

Of course, a post about eyebrows couldn't omit this fabulous shot of Carrot Top, found on Sodahead. The page even opens with the photo's code underneath the image. Clearly, this is an image for sharing.

carrot top+eyebrows pics on Sodahead

A letter to my fingernails

Worst fingernail is the
middle one. Coincidence?
© kittelberg writes

Dear fingernails, eyelashes, eyebrows,

Evidently, you didn't get the memo. I've completed chemo, four weeks ago in fact. My hair did get it and somehow I thought you were included, or at least cc'd with my medical update.

This means you, fingernails, can stop turning yellow and threatening to fall off.

I've been diligently clipping you short and wearing fancy rubber gloves while washing dishes. I get that you haven't felt up to par, particularly on the right side where my chemo IV went in.

But last night, one of you on the left side decided to try to sneak off while I was unplugging the bathtub. Really? What more do you want from me?

Sans makeup.
© kittelberg writes

With makeup.
© kittelberg writes

While we're at it, lashes and brows, feel free to start growing back any time. I get that you've gotten used to falling out over the past couple of months. But frankly, you're cramping my style. You're making me look like a cancer patient as I near the end of treatment with just 16 radiation sessions to go.

Luckily, my dear friend and Juggernauts teammate Chrissy bought me Quo's Must Have Brows kit before brows began evacuating the premises.

With the help of the fantastic Look Good Feel Better volunteers, I learned how to fill in my brows and not look like a drag queen. (No disrespect to drag queens, just not the look I go for in the daytime!)

The head takes the lead.
© kittelberg writes

The Look Good Feel Better makeup artists also taught me how to apply eyeliner to avoid unneeded tugging on delicate lashes, and to fill in the empty spaces to give the illusion of having a full set of lashes.

So, fingernails, brows and lashes, it's not me, it's you. Stop being stubborn, and follow the lead of your associate on the top of my head who is making a comeback as evidenced by the peach fuzz on my pate.

Sincerely,

Lori

Kicking kancer's ass one step at a time

From left: Ceci and Roxy, Melissa, Sharon,
me, and Claire with the Harry Jerome statue on
the Terry Fox Run route. © kittelberg writes

Four weeks ago, I took a major step in kicking kancer's ass and some personal demons. I started running.

Barring one summer in my early 20s when I was training to get to and from work in case Ottawa bus drivers went on strike, running hasn't been my thing

As a kid, I was a chunk and never liked running. Running hurt. I assumed it was because I heavy. When I was diagnosed with asthma at 19, the pain made sense.

As an adult, being fit certainly helped with running, but by then, I was more into aerobics and weight training.

Run for your life

I decided recently to participate in Bust a Move, a fundraiser for the BC Cancer Foundation. My teammates and I will be doing six fitness classes on April 13, 2013.

I've gone back and forth with my fitness regime, working out like a mad woman for months, even years at a time, then being a lazy slug for a while. I now know I need to commit myself to moving my body for the rest of my life.

I mentioned to colleagues that I wanted to do the Run for the Cure as a way to kick myself in the ass to get moving. Sharon used to lead Running Room learn-to-run classes, and offered her expertise. And Melissa wanted to confront her fear of running. We started a running group. I mentioned it on Twitter, and Ceci joined us.

Terry Fox Run

So after three weeks of training, we decided to make last week's Sunday run the Terry Fox Run. Melissa's friend Claire joined us. I also got to meet my Bust a Move teammates Kirstin in person for the first time at the registration tent. She did the run with her mom, and may be joining me, Sharon, Melissa and Ceci for training now and then.

Ceci brought her daughter Alex who biked, and their dog Roxy who ran with us.

Running becomes fun

We debated whether to do the 3k or 10k run, and opted for the 10k route, rationalizing that we could turn around at any time. We followed our 2:1 (running for two minutes, then walking for one minute) training. When we hit the 5k mark feeling good, our decision was made for us: finish it.

Kudos to Roxy, who provided us with the funniest moment of the day by pooping as we ran, resulting in what was coined the "shit relay".

I want to thank these ladies for an incredible morning, and plenty of laughs on our training runs. The laughs will be needed this week when we begin hill training!