The Coast is clear so why do I feel like I am drowning?

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. " Anatole France

First of all, I want to thank everyone for the calls, texts, emails, messages and positive thoughts from around the world. It really is amazing to see your circle of “people” in action and how many people you can call friends. I am lucky.

So yesterday good news came a week early and was so unexpected and of course positively wonderful. This is why I am struggling with my later reactions once the shock of it all and the relief had worn off. Many of you might be puzzled by what I am writing here so bear with me – this cancer business is complex.

A few hours later, I started to feel exhausted and this heaviness was pressing down on my chest that I couldn’t explain at first. Then the tears started to flow over dinner and my appetite just wasn’t there. Where was the champagne? Where were the happy giggles and smiles of relief? To be honest I felt depressed and lost and I felt like there was something dreadfully wrong with me for feeling so. I can try and explain it to you and maybe it will become clearer even to me. I compare it to an old man who is finally let out of prison after serving a life sentence. All the life he has known happened in that place and suddenly he is thrust out onto the pavement to face the world again without knowing where to go or what to do. I kind of feel like that old man right now. We had prepared ourselves for the cancer to be back. We had made plans and come to terms with that reality. The evidence was all there weighing heavily in cancer’s favor and I would have had to have some real casino luck to dodge this bullet. But somehow I did much to the surprise of my doctor who even said he had not expected this result. This is something amazing and so great. But in having earlier accepted that my cancer was back and doing enough background research to understand the serious implications of it, I had asked myself the tough questions that would terrify most to contemplate. I came up with plans and strategies to deal with the what ifs – I planned a book that I would prepare for my daughter to remember me by and the letters I would leave behind for my husband to read on special days every year. I imagined losing my hair again and having life put on hold again. I even came up with a blog title for the delivery of the news that the bitch was back. You can say I spent a lot of the last few weeks contemplating all of this. Yes this sounds morbid and even crazy but it wasn’t. The survival curve for a relapse like this dropped off significantly to almost 0%. I wasn’t being dramatic, I was being realistic. I always tell my doctors that I never want to be naïve about my situation and be unprepared for news like I had been the day I first found out. But suddenly the game had shifted and it is an entirely different playing board. So I also need to shift and adapt to the changes as well.  I also maybe need to grieve the past 2 years of my life that were dominated by cancer before starting to build a new one which can be scary too.  Acknowledgement of your feelings is the best way to get past them so I cant just pretend I am not feeling the way I am. I have to own them and then let them go. My life is no longer dominated by this beast and that might feel weird for awhile but it will be great once I get used to the new me.

As I will be rejoining the working world shortly, following this change of events,  I am questioning everything. Will I be successful? Do I still have what it takes? Will my body keep up? It really comes down to fear of the unknown – a different kind of unknown this time round. After being traumatized by life recently and thinking that things hadn’t gone my way for a while, you can be lead to believe that the odds will never be in your favor again. But what my family and I have learnt this week is that they can be beat and that life can be one hell of a rollercoaster. My story is far from over and there will be more tests, more dreadful waiting times and more unknowns over the next few months and then years but I will start slowly rebuilding my life brick by brick with a few good cries here and there.

I want to thank you for coming along on this wild ride with me. My life is so much richer for the friendships that have been tested, the new ones that have been formed and the family bonds that proved they were built of pure steel. I also want to thank my dear husband for being a rock through everything – I couldn’t have come out the other side of this a better person without you by my side. And Captain AC – thank you for listening…to everything and for being strong enough to never let me see that you were ever afraid. Having people believe in you is what makes you believe in yourself even when things seem bleak.  And little monkey – you have grown into a little person before my eyes – into someone who feels my pain, treasures my love and tells me, “Mama, it will be okay.”

Here is to the end of one chapter and the beginning of another...

A very loved OBB

Oh Joy!!!

Sometimes a phone call can literally change your life. I just experienced one of the sort. I thought I had run out of luck, I thought the battle was lost, I thought I wouldnt get a second chance. But I was wrong. After four agonising weeks of uncertainty and anxiety, fear and pain, I have been told that I am okay. I cannot describe to you the feeling of utter relief that is coursing through my body right now. It is electrifying. I want to scream with joy, I want to laugh in celebration and I want to cry with relief. I seriously dodged a bullet here and I cannot tell you how happy I am. Where do we go from here? No one knows what happens in the long game and destiny is not pre determined for anyone including myself. The road will continue to be filled with twists and turns but I feel like today is the perfect day for starting over again.

An elated OBB

Gwendolyn the Good Fairy

When I was little, my father would tell me a story nearly every night for probably 12 or 13 years.  I felt like every story he told was original and new, though I now think there might have been a few parallel themes or repeats during all those years! He was creative but also human.  Every story centered around the character of Gwendolyn the Good Fairy. She would come to the aid of children from all over the world and help them with whatever problem they had. He was so good at bringing this tiny little fairy to life that I can still imagine her waking up on her little lily pad in the pond with rose petals for wings and covered in a bright shiny light that never seemed to dull. Years on, I could still paint a perfect picture of her, how she looked and remember a number of stories where she helped a child find their lost teddy, or learn to play a sport they were afraid of. I think my dad definitely took inspiration from some of my life issues in these stories and helped me along my way.

I have thought of him a lot this week. Many of you who read this blog often know that I mention him here and there and it is very clear that I miss him dearly. When things are tough or I am struggling with something, I think of him more often. I think of how he would just know what to do. I also know in an instant that he would be on a plane on his way to me if I needed him. I would not have even needed to ask. He would just know. I try to comfort myself with the thought that somehow he knows I need him now and he is helping me in any way he can.

This a pic I took while on my walk yesterday.

I took a walk by myself down by the sea yesterday, as we spent the weekend with the grandparents for a change of scene after the tough week we had. Autumn had made its mark and it was quiet but beautiful. I took that same walk the few days before my first chemo treatment and asked for his help at that time too. I did the same yesterday. I called out into the wind and told him that I was afraid and I wished he were here with me. No one answered back. No bird flew by. No sign. But I didn’t feel alone so I took comfort in that. It was then that I thought of all those stories from long ago. If my dad were here right now to talk to me what would he say? What would Gwendolyn do? This is my version of what I think he would have imagined for me if he could sit by my bed, hold my hand and tell me everything would be okay because Gwendolyn was on the case.

There was a little girl who lived in a land that was cold and dark.  She was very brave and tried not to be afraid of anything. She had a loving family and very good friends around her. She was mostly very happy and lived a good life. But there was something that she just couldn’t get out of her mind. It was something that no one could help her with and she felt like she could not find the right words to make people understand how she was feeling.  She grew very worried about it as each day passed. She became so worried in fact that one night while she was tucked up in bed after her mama and pappa had kissed her goodnight, she wished. She wished for Gwendolyn the good fairy to come help her not to worry. She closed her eyes and called out her name into the night sky. Suddenly a star shined brighter then all the others and came sailing through her open window. The next thing she knew there was a tiny fairy on her night stand. The little girl thought that it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. “I am Gwendolyn the good fairy and I am here to help you little friend.” The little girl explained her problem and how she was worried and afraid. “I will sprinkle a few drops of fairy dust on your eyes and you will fall asleep and all your worries and fears will melt away. In the morning you will feel better – stronger and calmer and you will be able to face all that worries or scares you.” The little girl smiled and closed her eyes, ready for the fairy dust to fall. She drifted off into a delicious sleep and dreamed of only the most wonderful of things.  Gwendolyn then dusted off her hands and saw that her work here was done. And with that she was off in a flash of light leaving behind only the stillness and darkness of the night. In the morning the little girl didn’t remember anything about what had happened but she felt better and lighter. Her worries were gone and she couldn’t quite understand how or why but she knew that she would be okay.

For my big tall angel in the sky who continues to inspire me and help me on my way.

Love,

OBB 

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Hi Everyone (again!),

I am so happy that so many of you enjoyed my Ode to Pinktober. I think it is one of the most read entries and it was such a special thing for me to write. 

As tomorrow is the 1st of October and the first day of Pinktober, I felt I wanted to post a few pics of my own cancer journey. It seems everyone is reflecting back on their experience with the Big C and I thought doing a picture story might be nice for all of you and for me to just reflect on the past 18 months.  Many of these have never even graced facebook so I am laying it all out there. Figure there is nothing to be ashamed or embarassed about. I had cancer - no biggie. :)

I also want to thank all of the Pink efforts happening this weekend. My dear friend Charlotte walked through Central London all night to raise money for breast cancer and no it was not a pub crawl!. I love you and hope there was minimal chaffing involved!! I also want to thank my family (mom included) who are walking or running for a Cure today in Canada. You guys rock and I so wish I could be there to run alongside you. 

So a little picture story about a girl called OBB:

A pregnant me hanging by the beach in Gran Canaria before life changed. Oh my god I look so young!!

Motherhood was a blessing and the best thing I have ever done! 

My husband and I on our wonderful wedding day which took place 3 weeks after my diagnosis and was planned in 10 days! Still managed to be the perfect day ever.

Post surgery and 2 days pre my first chemo celebrating the 17th of May. Can you see the fear in my eyes?? But how cute is my little monkey.

The mid way point through chemo. A cup of green tea with the sun coming up and not a hair on my head!

My cake to mark the end of chemo that I gave to the nurses who took such good care of me.

Waiting for some hair. Rocking my wig in the playground! I think i look pretty cool.

On the road to recovery. My Co-captain on this journey - My mom and fellow survivor.

Me today! With my best friend who continues to get me through every challenge regardless of how big or scary it is. His calmness grounds me. His love protects me. His vulnerability reminds me that we are still human at the end of the day. And his humour keeps me afloat when the seas get rough. 

Here's to many more new and exciting chapters. Happy Pinktober everyone! (I know I totally bitched about the whole pink thing earlier this week but wear your pink ribbons people! 

OBB 

My Ode to Pinktober

“Breast cancer is not just a disease that strikes at women. It strikes at the very heart of who we are as women: how others perceive us, how we perceive ourselves, how we live, work and raise our families-or whether we do these things at all.” Debbie Wasserman Schultz

This entry was inspired by an article I read in the Daily Mail (yes i know some of you will disown me as a friend with that admission!) this week about an upcoming Breast Cancer Awareness Campaign to mark the month of October. October is of course breast cancer month where pink is literally everywhere. Being a breast cancer survivor myself, I flicked through the glossy heavily airbrushed photos of celebrities posing in scenarios that had literally zero connection to breast cancer. If anything it made me feel worse looking at their perfect bodies and pert breasts and than thinking back to myself and my mangled body. Now I am of course totally up for raising money and awareness of this horrific disease that affects far too many, but sometimes I think we lose sight of what it really means. It isn’t about t-shirts with slogans like “Breast cancer sucks” or putting a pink ribbon on every product around – it is about the people fighting and remembering those who have lost their fight. It is about making women take charge of their health and of increasing funding in the hopes of finding a cure.  I was inspired to write my own ode to Breast Cancer Awareness month and highlight some of my own experiences and some of others that I have been fortunate enough to meet and know through this experience. This is the real face of the disease – the raw, flawed and painful side that somehow has a beauty and grace to it all at the same time.

She is the woman who when faced with those three words thinks immediately not of herself but of her family who need her so.

She is the woman who crinkles up her eyes tight to stop the tears from flowing so she can shelter her child from seeing any of her pain.

She is the woman who puts her unborn baby’s life first over her own.

She is the woman who hides two long red scars, marking her long journey to hell and back, beneath her clothes .

She is the woman who still manages to laugh at your jokes and be herself despite the pain she hides - so much so that you forget that she is even sick.

She is the woman who longs for the gift of a child or even the chance of having another but must chose survival over fulfilling that dream.

She is the woman who acts as if nothing has changed or that nothing is wrong and remains  the person you know and love.

She is the epitomy of grace and style with or without hair.

She stares down her enemy head on and never once puts down her sword to rest.

She is the woman who is still there for you when things go wrong reminding you that no one’s problems are too small to matter.

She seems like a superhero but like all of us she sometimes just wants to roll up in a ball and cry.

She just wants the chance to grow old and have a face filled with laugh lines and a head full of grey hairs.

She is a sister, a wife, a mother, and a friend.

She is a warrior dressed in pink. 

Let there be light

I've decided that the stuff falling through the cracks is confetti and I'm having a party!  ~Betsy Cañas Garmon

Hi Everyone,

I know I have been suspiciously quiet since the PET scan happened and that many of you of course worry. I am keeping my cards alittle closer to my chest right now until we know what is really happening. 

First off I want to tell you that I am okay. Strangely calm and feeling overwhelmingly positive about it all. Of course I had my hysterical moments a few days ago when my doctor called asking me to come in the next morning.Who wouldn't freak out about that? Hello alarmist! Things could be worse - I could have light up in my major organs like the liver or lungs! We take comfort where we can right. :) So they have found something that they need to take a closer look at. Super fun times for me next week as it will be biopsy time. Did you know they dont put you to sleep when they dig in your chest for some tissue samples? Crazy I know. There better be a full audience of unicorns with me on that day. But seriously I really think this is a precaution given my type of nasty cancer and that it is most likely the result of months of pain and inflammation post surgery and treatment. 

I feel good about this. I don't look sick. I don't feel sick. A good friend told me that my eyes were too clear, too alive for me to be sick again. I agree as I have got real sparklers these days. I have reminded myself that this was something we expected so we just need to relax and not panic until told otherwise. False positives are par for the course with these types of scans. I think it must come down to the fact I have such a radiant and illuminating personality. Don't you? 

So I am trying to put it all to one side and focus on the good things and boy are there lots of them. So much to be happy about it in life and celebrate. I really don't have room in my life to worry about the Big C right now so it can bugger off- I have far too much living to do. 

Have a great week everyone!!

xxx

Waiting for a sign

So it has been one hell of a week for OBB. Since I last wrote I got a cold, got a PET scan and then got an awful awful flu! Not the greatest week for me but certaintly not my worst either. I know it isnt the most interesting to read about someone´s constant flow of ailments and issues. I am sick of it myself. But being bed ridden and feeling like death on a platter was not what I needed this week. Unable to read or watch TV, I lay there in bed with my thoughts. A dangerous coupling really. And when you are waiting to hear whether you are ok or not, feeling downright lousy doesnt make you feel the most positive. To tell you the truth - feeling as bad as I did, where I could literally not find an ounce of reserve energy even for my little monkey,  it made me so scared. I didnt want my life to end up like that. Lying in a bed with little breaks here and there, watching the world go by while I was stuck. I know I am being super melodramatic but i think most people in my situation would have the same worries and fears. Cancer is a shit way to go people. It is ugly, painful, and relentless. I want to die old and wrinkled curled up in my quilt on a winter´s night with my whole family nearby or even holding my hand. That is the way to go  - the way I want to go. 

So this whole PET business went alright. It was as I expected and I had the same nice technician as before so she knew my vein dealio. We got it on the first attempt - hurrah!! The valium might have helped as well. Can you believe they have unicorns in hospitals now? Hi little pony, you want an apple? Oh maybe that was the sedative talking? :) So now we are just waiting. Everytime my phone rang this week, I jumped before I could see what number it was. Kinda like waiting for the boy to call you like so much and then when he actually does you are too scared to pick up. I know when it does happen and it is inevitable, my chest will tighten and my pulse will quicken. It always happens when I get big news and they will ask me to come in. I will look for any signs I can detect from their tone and choice of words indicating whether it is good or bad. Of course I am sure they are trained to give nothing away but I will do it anyways. I have even analysed the length of time it has taken to hear from them. If it were bad they would called right away right? Or were they taking time to take in all the problem areas? God you could make yourself mad running through every single scenario and of course none of it helps. But we do what we can to feel more in control of a situation that is beyond us.  I am getting shivers just writing it all this down - playing it out in my mind what will happen this week. I cant hide from it or run away. It is happening. It is hard because at the same there are so many great, amazing things happening in my life right now that are overshadowed by this. I want to tell you all about them but I dont want to jinx myself so I will wait. If i am being honest, I am so scared that like the last time when I had finally gotten myself established and found a job, it will be taken from me again. I was in the exact same situation as I am now - just about ready to press the start button on a new life and career. This time I dont want anyone to jump in and press "abort." I want to celebrate my wonderful achievements and start rebuilding what was lost, so cancer please please go away.

So it is shaping up to be a pretty major week for OBB and family. I will also be travelling to Bergen this coming weekend for the Norwegian Young Womens Breast Cancer conference. It is a gathering of women under 40 who have been affected by breast cancer. It is a wonderful place to come together and discuss the issues that affect young women facing this disease. The horror of a diagnosis shocks every women regardless of age but the challenges surrounding it differ dramatically. These women understand how shit it is getting through chemo and radiation with young children to look after, they understand how it can break your heart when you cant pick up your crying baby after surgery and they understand the nightmare of wondering whether you will be given the opportunity to watch your children grow up. This pink sisterhood is sacred and its members are virtual towers of strength and grace.

I hope to write an update when I get "the call" and be able to tell you all that I am 100% okay. Happy happy thoughts...everything is going to be okay. Maybe if I say it enough times, I will believe it.

I will end with a quote from Dr. Seuss. Seriously he had it right! When I re-read his stories now as an adult you see how true and real they actually are. There is alot to be learned from Dr. Seuss!

“I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!”
― Dr. Seuss

Happy Weekend,

OBB xxx


















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