Catching Up...Finally!

It’s been a few months since I last posted!  In part, I've been so relieved to be done with the bulk of treatment that it has been nice to take a break from regular updates.  I’ve been playing with my kiddos and very unplugged all summer which is just what I needed after this whole cancer ordeal.  Then, there’s also the fact that I’m not really, truly done with treatment. That’s made it hard to post a big splashy, “I’m done!” I’ve been getting Hercerptin infusions every three weeks, plus ongoing tests and follow up appointments.  The infusions are winding down, so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I think when I have my port removed I'll finally start feeling more like a regular person again and less like being a patient is a major part of my identity.

The other reason I’ve taken a break from writing is a bit more difficult to explain.  I have wanted to keep this blog fairly positive, but also honest in case it's helpful to anyone else going through breast cancer treatment.  So, if I’m being honest, I need to admit that I’ve been in somewhat of a depression since June.  I’m coming out of it now, so I can write about it. But after so many had rallied around me, so many had celebrated my last day of radiation, so many had congratulated me and assumed it was time to move on, I was afraid of sounding ungrateful.  Even though I know post-cancer depression is not uncommon, I was embarrassed that I couldn't rally.  I couldn’t imagine saying to my friends, “Yes, I know you moved heaven and earth to rally around me for this past year, and I know I’m alive and healthy and all, but now I’m in the dumps and I need more support.”  So, I kept it mostly among my immediate family and those very close to me.  And, eventually, a counselor.

I had started to dip into this depression back in March. I was temporarily lifted up by the seven-week dance odyssey that coincided with radiation.   All of the samba, flamenco, hip hop, bollywood and bhangra was good for the soul. I was floating along with lots of help with the kids while I was driving back and forth to Seattle Cancer Care Alliance for the daily radiation treatments. I had the Dances of Hope and Healing Show to plan and look forward to as well, so really, things were looking up in May and June. 

Then, radiation ended. The Dances of Hope and Healing show happened (beautifully, I might add – everyone involved was truly amazing – and we raised over $1000).  I kept up with flamenco, but all of the other dancing stopped. Yes, I was healthy and in many ways stronger than I had been in a long time, but my body still looked terrible to me.  The damage from months of chemo and surgery were going to take longer than a few weeks to fix.  My hair is years from looking like it did before. And boobs don’t just grow back.  That, and the mental effects of chemo were lingering, leaving me foggy-headed and feeling stupid.  I struggled to find my vocabulary, I couldn’t make connections, I couldn’t think creatively: all skills required of a communications consultant.  I had to give up my work.  Suddenly I was full-time mom to two little kids who were intent on testing boundaries. Not that being a full-time mom is a bad thing, it’s just not the career/parenthood balance that I had hoped and worked for.  I also had a lot to process after spending a year focused mainly only on survival.  All of this left me sad, angry, tired and, well, not feeling much like blogging.

Josh and I at the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer
Kickoff Breakfast in August

Speaking at the kickoff breakfast for Making Strides Against Breast Cancer in August gave me the foothold I needed to start the climb to recovery. Josh and I had been connected to Making Strides South Sound through a friend of ours who recommended us.  We immediately accepted the invitation to speak assuming we were but one speech among many.  The morning of the event, as we took our seats at the Tacoma Convention Center, we were informed that we were later in the program, just before the "ask."  In other words, keynote position.  Scanning the room and realizing we were about to tell our very personal story to a crowd of about 300 people, I broke out into a sweat.

It turned out to be the best thing we could have done.  Josh and I both cried as we shared our past year battling cancer.  The audience cried with us.  I mean, they really cried. At the end, they gave us a standing ovation.  It was the validation I needed to begin moving on with my life.  Every breast cancer survivor should have a chance to tell their story to 300 people who empathize with their struggles and celebrate their courage.  Seeing everyone reach for their wallets and donate generously after our speech also gave me hope that some good could come out of a scary and difficult year.

The opening event for the Healing Garden

And good can come indeed out of a tough time: the Healing Garden opened in September.  Between the T-shirt campaign that my dear father-in-law started, the money raised at the Ta-ta to the Tatas party that my sweet friend Mirabai hosted, and the Dances of Hope and Healing show, we raised around $3000 for the Healing Garden at Providence St. Peter Hospital.  The hospital also reported that all of the publicity surrounding the show helped sell all of the naming rights in the garden. Josh and I attended the garden opening and we were kindly honored for our efforts, but really all of the gratitude goes to our friends and family.  The garden is a beautiful, peaceful space that will provide solace for cancer patients for years to come.

Dancing has helped improve my mood, too.  As someone who has danced fairly consistently for the last 20 years, it shouldn’t have been a surprise how intricately it is tied into my well-being.  But, the annoying cycle of depression is that you don’t have the energy or will to do the very things that will make you happy.  Getting my dance company back together has been an amazing boost and I’m so glad to get to see my beautiful friends again on a regular basis.  In a wonderful meeting of two worlds, we have been asked to perform at the beginning of the Making Strides walk this Saturday, October 10.  We walked last year with pink jingly coin belts and now, this year, we’ll get to dance, too!  If you’re headed to Tacoma to do the walk, come early (9:15 am) if you want to see us!

It's also been useful to learn more about brain biology and how chemo can alter the structure of brain cells to the point of making depression almost inevitable.  My counselor drew a diagram showing how the flow of good-feeling serotonin can be completely disrupted by the damage that chemo does to cells. My brain needed to heal.  And it is healing.  The fog is finally lifting, I’m feeling much more clear-headed and able to write again.  As my brain repairs itself and serotonin is going where it's supposed to, the depression is quickly dissipating.

Pulling myself out of this funk has required firing on all cylinders. I’m exercising, working on projects, going to counseling, hanging out with new and old friends, dancing, and spending lots of time snuggling with my kids and loving my husband. Fortunately, all of this effort is paying off and I'm definitely feeling better about things. Life isn’t perfect, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be, or, frankly, what that would even look like.  How uninteresting life would be if there weren’t challenges, how lonely it would be if we didn’t need to rely on each other now and then, and how easy it would be to take life for granted if we weren’t constantly reminded death follows us more closely than our own shadows.

Thank you for your ongoing support and thanks for your patience with these ups and downs.  Looking forward to more up!

Amirat Dance Company - photo by Todd Hobert Photography