May 29, 2008
Final Entry:
When I first started this project I was thrilled to have the opportunity to speak up about my personal experience with a universal topic. So many lives have been touched and altered by a cancer experience, whether it be personally or through a family member that I thought it would be great to possibly connect with someone or share my experience. I thought it would be easy to express how cancer has changed and influenced my life, while offering insight into my families experiences. Yet, I found this to be much harder than I had anticipated, I found that I don't necessarily feel one way in particular to cancer, and it has influenced my world in so many ways that it is difficult to state outright. I learned through the accumulation of images and my writings that I am sick as hell of talking about cancer. It is the biggest most influential thing that has happened to me, and while I can never escape it, I don't necessarily want to talk about it anymore. I have been talking about cancer for six years, SIX YEARS. I mean every class biography, every personal reflection, every time I have to explain to new friends or boyfriends why I don't have a dad, and I am so over it. Towards the beginning of the project I felt like I had a good amount of material, I could reflect on how cancer is always on my mind, I am angry, sad, a better person BLAH BLAH BLAH, I AM OVER IT. I guess the older I get the more I feel like I just want to move on, it will always be there, it will always be sad but that is life. I do not feel like I don't want to talk about it because it is necessarily hard but rather, I am just used to it now. I have come to terms with life's surprises and heartbreaks, and all I want to do is move on. This began to show in my work, and I feel like this project has served as the ignition to the ending my conversations about cancer. In this interview with my Mom we discuss how studies about cancer patients who live the rest of their lives in denial to ever having battled cancer have a much higher survival and remission rate. This idea is a perfect summation of my feelings about cancer, it latches to you, and slowly eats away at you...if you let it. If we are able to move on, brush the chip off our shoulder and live the rest of our lives like cancer didn't effect us, hopefully it wont anymore.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Skin cancer
May 9, 2008
So a friend of my Mom’s daughter was diagnosed with stage IV metastatic melanoma skin cancer that spread to her body, organs and bones. She has created a website with information on skin protection that followed a walk that her and her father embarked on this month, May 1-5. The site is called 555walk.com, five days, fifth month, celebrating five years of being cancer free. It was a five-day walk from Napa Valley to San Francisco, and it is a fundraising and awareness walk that will end at the California Pacific Medical Center where Dr. David Minor, Kari’s treating oncologist for the last five years is. The website had tons of links for what to look for with irregular moles and tips for staying out of the sun.
So a friend of my Mom’s daughter was diagnosed with stage IV metastatic melanoma skin cancer that spread to her body, organs and bones. She has created a website with information on skin protection that followed a walk that her and her father embarked on this month, May 1-5. The site is called 555walk.com, five days, fifth month, celebrating five years of being cancer free. It was a five-day walk from Napa Valley to San Francisco, and it is a fundraising and awareness walk that will end at the California Pacific Medical Center where Dr. David Minor, Kari’s treating oncologist for the last five years is. The website had tons of links for what to look for with irregular moles and tips for staying out of the sun.
Apparently:
- 90% or more of melanoma is caused by ultraviolet (UV) radiation either from the sun or tanning salons
- 50% of lifetime exposure to UV light occurs during childhood and adolescence, but sunburn at any age causes melanoma
- Melanoma is epidemic: rising faster than any other cancer and projected to affect one person in 50 by 2010, currently it affects 1 in 75. In 1935, the disease struck only one in 1500
- One person dies every hour from melanoma
- Melanoma is the most common cancer in women ages 25-29 and second only to breast cancer in women 30-34
- Melanoma costs over $740 million dollars annually
My sister has had malignant moles removed. I surf, worse yet, I am certainly guilty of lying out. I’m not a big tanning booth fan, but I have been once our twice in High School. After checking out this website for a good couple hours and checking all my moles, I am sure I have at least two irregular looking moles. A dermatologist just checked me but I am freaking out a little bit. I have had one benign mole and one benign tumor removed. God its like I am so fucking sick of cancer. Cancer this and that, I mean it really feels like everything gives you cancer. I feel like you really cant do much but live the healthiest you can and be prepared to battle at some point in your life. Its just I don’t want to have a family and kids and go through that shit. I just really don’t want cancer. That sounds so ridiculous, but growing up with it EVERYWHERE, I can’t help but feel like it’s inevitable and while I am so sick of being scared of cancer, of even hearing, talking about, or saying the word…I just don’t want it, I don’t want to have to go there too, and the worst part about it is there is not a damn thing I can do except wait and live as healthy as possible…whatever that means.
Cancer statistics
May 3, 2008
According to the American Cancer Society statistics cancer is 23.1% of deaths in the U.S. It is the second leading death behind heart disease. This includes all types of cancer, male and female. 23.1%. I haven’t made up my mind if I feel like this is a lot or not. I mean when you think of all the ways to die, cancer taking up 23.1% is pretty up there, but I guess I expected it to be higher.
According to the American Cancer Society statistics cancer is 23.1% of deaths in the U.S. It is the second leading death behind heart disease. This includes all types of cancer, male and female. 23.1%. I haven’t made up my mind if I feel like this is a lot or not. I mean when you think of all the ways to die, cancer taking up 23.1% is pretty up there, but I guess I expected it to be higher.
In 2007 289,550 men died of cancer and 270,100 women. Lung cancer is, by far, the most common fatal cancer in men (31%), followed by prostate (9%), and colon & rectum (9%). In women, lung (26%), breast (15%), and colon & rectum (10%) are the leading sites of cancer death. In a line graph it showed a crazy linear line increasing steadily from 1930 to 2000 in deaths by cancer only to slowly start decreasing by 2003. My dad died in 2002.
Its funny how it can all be put into numbers like that. 15% of cancer deaths are women with breast cancer–moms and daughters, sisters, aunts and grandmas. I guess it wouldn’t be very scientific to label them as actual people. Looking at the information I began to forget all together that I was talking about deaths as I applied my mathematical skills to evaluate the charts. It would be so bizarre to be the person who has to collect that data. I wonder if they know anybody who has died from cancer, I’m willing to bet probably.
One thing after the other
May 1, 2008
One thing after the other. So like I mentioned before my mom just wants to move on. She doesn’t want to be labeled a survivor, she doesn’t want to head a support group or run marathons, she just wants to move on with her life. Everything has been going just fine with this plan except that now she is starting to show signs of Lymphoedema. Lymphoedema, also spelled lymphoedema, also known as lymphatic obstruction, is a condition of localized fluid retention caused by a compromised lymphatic system. The lymphatic system (often referred to as the body's "second" circulatory system) collects and filters the interstitial fluid of the body. Since some her lymph nodes were destroyed in radiation they have begun to leak fluid which causes swelling around her scars where she got the mastectomy and under her arms. She says that it is slightly sensitive and went to a specialist the other day who wants her to where this sort of glove arm band type of things. She says that it is hideous and doesn’t want to where it. It just kills me, I mean come on she beat this thing let her move on. My Mom’s case is very mild but could possible get worse. It’s funny you have cancer so you take the necessary treatments to fix it and they end up giving you another problem. Of course she is not complaining and has not mentioned that she see’s it that way at all. I guess I can’t help but see it like that. It’s not life threatening and worse case scenario she’s have to where this ugly arm band thing but come on just let us forget about it you know? Life’s funny like that, you can’t ever get too comfortable because there is always something around the corner.
One thing after the other. So like I mentioned before my mom just wants to move on. She doesn’t want to be labeled a survivor, she doesn’t want to head a support group or run marathons, she just wants to move on with her life. Everything has been going just fine with this plan except that now she is starting to show signs of Lymphoedema. Lymphoedema, also spelled lymphoedema, also known as lymphatic obstruction, is a condition of localized fluid retention caused by a compromised lymphatic system. The lymphatic system (often referred to as the body's "second" circulatory system) collects and filters the interstitial fluid of the body. Since some her lymph nodes were destroyed in radiation they have begun to leak fluid which causes swelling around her scars where she got the mastectomy and under her arms. She says that it is slightly sensitive and went to a specialist the other day who wants her to where this sort of glove arm band type of things. She says that it is hideous and doesn’t want to where it. It just kills me, I mean come on she beat this thing let her move on. My Mom’s case is very mild but could possible get worse. It’s funny you have cancer so you take the necessary treatments to fix it and they end up giving you another problem. Of course she is not complaining and has not mentioned that she see’s it that way at all. I guess I can’t help but see it like that. It’s not life threatening and worse case scenario she’s have to where this ugly arm band thing but come on just let us forget about it you know? Life’s funny like that, you can’t ever get too comfortable because there is always something around the corner.
Fuck Cancer
April 30, 2008
So I went home last weekend to gather information on my mom’s cancer, give her an interview, and take pictures. It was interesting asking my mom questions about going through breast cancer, and how it has changed her life, or what she thought about it when she was diagnosed. Automatically my sister and I compared it to my Dad’s cancer, with this whole “oh shit here we go again” attitude. Yet, my mom said that thought didn’t even come to mind. It wasn’t like she connected her cancer to my Dad’s at all, no, she said it was much more a personal thing for her. I asked her what it feels like now to be a survivor, and she cringed at the word. She said I hate that concept, “I don’t want to be placed in the “survivor” cancer group.” She talked about having read a lot of information on how people who pretend that they never had cancer have a better survival rate with no relapse. My mom has always been this very aloof individual, nothing gets her down, and if so it is for a brief moment before she cracks jokes about it, or throws a bye bye boobies party before her mastectomy, and then it is under the rug forever. Really, besides the scars on her chest, you would never know my mom had cancer–she would carry on with either a chip on her shoulder, or a gold survival medal, she’d rather just ignore it all together.
This really got me thinking, because to be completely honest, I feel exactly the same way. I asked her these cancer questions with extreme sensitivity because I wanted to be careful not to bring up any emotions or tread on delicate territory, but my mom is as casual about it as talking about directions or gardening. I realized that I am the same way about both of their experiences; I mean, we have been talking about it for six fucking years. It gets to a point where you just want it to go away, and pretend it never happened. Every time I start dating, or gain a new friend, it’s like I inevitably have to tell them why it’s just mom, and everyone offers these empathetic eyes when I'M TOTALLY FINE. I’m in college, I had two parents that loved each other, I have a roof over my head, and clothes on my back. LIFE IS AND HAS ALWAYS BEEN GOOD TO ME. I mean don’t get me wrong, a sad thing happened to my family, but sad things happen to everybody. I’m over it. It’s like cancer this, cancer that, I fucking hate cancer. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore. Yet, it will always be there, and don’t get me wrong cancer has changed my life, my entire families lives, but we’ve moved on. There is no reason to dwell, and in that sense I totally get my Mom. I’m sick of talking about it, and I didn’t even go through it. I guess it is because I have dealt with it that I don’t necessarily feel so sad anymore, or all my sadness over it is used up, I guess. Every now and then I’ll get emotional, it's weird trying to make sense of something that doesn’t really make sense, so all you can do is get the hell over it.
I guess it depends on my mood too, sometimes I am emotional, and this unexpected feeling of anger and loss can sneak up on you. That will last a couple of days before you're like fuck this, it’s over. My Mom said some lady left a message on her phone saying that her daughter had just been diagnosed with breast cancer, and she wants my mom to talk to her. My mom doesn’t think the girl will like what she has to say, “Get over it, move on, get treatment, and pretend you don’t have it,” she hasn’t called her back and doesn’t want to. I understand.
Two Experiences
April 29, 2008
With having two parents go through cancer, I cant help but compare the two experiences. When my Dad was sick I wrote everyday in my journal, I kept a journal. I haven’t written in a journal or even written about cancer since then. I think living here, living with my Dad, and experiencing it everyday made me need an outlet like writing. I needed to reflect and try to understand what was happening around me, right in front of me. Yet with my Mom, I wasn’t in the house, I was at college. Even though we were still going through it, and I was still here for every surgery, and some doctor appointments, I wasn’t facing it everyday in the same house. I would go back to school and distract myself with life as a college kid. I could almost pretend it wasn’t happening, not to mention that they were completely different cancers, treatments etc. I don’t know, maybe I have become a little accustomed to going through something like that anyways. I mean, it's not like it gets any easier, but I can’t image it gets much harder to accept and go through.
With having two parents go through cancer, I cant help but compare the two experiences. When my Dad was sick I wrote everyday in my journal, I kept a journal. I haven’t written in a journal or even written about cancer since then. I think living here, living with my Dad, and experiencing it everyday made me need an outlet like writing. I needed to reflect and try to understand what was happening around me, right in front of me. Yet with my Mom, I wasn’t in the house, I was at college. Even though we were still going through it, and I was still here for every surgery, and some doctor appointments, I wasn’t facing it everyday in the same house. I would go back to school and distract myself with life as a college kid. I could almost pretend it wasn’t happening, not to mention that they were completely different cancers, treatments etc. I don’t know, maybe I have become a little accustomed to going through something like that anyways. I mean, it's not like it gets any easier, but I can’t image it gets much harder to accept and go through.
Transition
April 28, 2008
In that transition after my dad died and my sister went to college, my mom was learning how to live without her husband and be a mom alone, while I was trying to understand what had just happened and get through high school. It’s weird, I have heard kids who have lost parents and turn crazy or rebellious. I didn’t go crazy, but I had a hard time adjusting. It's like you come to this point where you have a choice. You can live like the world owes you something, and let the anger and loss eat you up until you self-destruct, or you can take what you have been through and grow. For a while I was numbing it all with life as a teenager–parties, ditching class to surf, with this whole “ WHAT IS THE POINT” attitude. It took a combination of therapy, going to Panama, and growing the hell up to understand that there is so much to life. Talking to family friends now, there were a few people worried about me; I think that is so embarrassing. I never want to be the kind of person who dwells or gets caught up in the bad things that happen to them. I actually feel very torn between accepting what has happened, and knowing that so many people experience much more loss or pain than I have. It is hard to find a medium between appropriate grieving, and (I don’t how to say it but) GETTING THE HELL OVER IT. I hate that it makes me feel like something sad has happened to me when things could be so much sadder, and really I am so lucky.
I almost feel guilty for being sad, or angry with what my family has gone through, you know? It could always be worse, who am I to complain? Whenever I talk about my parents, and their struggles with cancer, I feel the need to conclude the conversation with “ but I am so lucky, I mean so many people have much worse things happen.”
Closet picture
April 26, 2008
I am home right now, and I opened up my closet to find a picture of my dad that I had taped to a drawer. It actually seemed really bizarre. He looks extremely sick. I don’t ever remember thinking that he looked that sick, I mean I remember him getting weaker and less able to do things, but it happened so slowly. He was sick for three years, and that is not how I remember him at all. I remember that toward the end I started to take as many pictures of him as possible, but I never thought he looked different in them. Looking back, I must have wanted to collect as much of him as possible. We always knew that losing him was probable. I taped it to my drawer next to a Roxy sticker, like it was just another sticker, when really it is this awful picture of my Dad sick. I remember my Mom asking me to take it down when I was still in High School, apparently I wouldn’t, and six years later his little smiling bald head is still stuck to my drawer, next to that stupid pink Roxy sticker, weird.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The Walk
April 26, 2008
I went on a walk around the block in my hometown, and automatically it took me right back to the day my dad died. I was holding his hand when he passed away, he wasn’t talking to me or anything, but as soon as he died he was completely still. Anyways, as soon as he died I called my best friend Elizabeth. Even though she was on her way to San Francisco, her family turned around, and she showed up at my door with a box of crispy cream donuts. I was still in my pajamas and slippers, and we walked to the end of my block and sat there for an hour, eating crispy creams as I just cried. She just sat there with me in silence and let me cry. Every time I walk that direction on my block, I am right back to that day.
I remember feeling angry with all of the people that flooded my house the next couple days. I hated all the food and all the hugs and touching me. Actually it made my skin crawl to be touched, at least for a while. It bothered me, all these people in my house, everywhere people. Looking back it would have been so much worse to be alone, my mom and my sister needed people around them, but all I wanted was to be alone. I think it was more that this awful thing happened, I didn’t understand it or at least I didn’t want to, but I think I would have disliked anything that happened for a while after that.
Excerpt from High School Journal
Apr 24, 2008
I am home now, and I was looking through my journals from High School. I found this poem I wrote the day my dad died, but really it reminds me of when my mom called to tell me she had breast cancer.
The news was brief, but its context ever lasting.
A permanent change, our hearts forever gasping.
A future no longer known,
it came and tore down that security we’d created on our own.
It arrived with out warning, no threatening sound no piercing sign,
just came with a voice at the other end of the line.
We’ve witnessed the definition of having a last day,
we’ve heard every attempt at making it feel okay.
No button, no restart could be pushed to make it disappear,
So we wake up, go on and hope away the fear.
Well make it count try to help it last,
now that we know how life can slip so fast.
It arrived without warning, with nothing at all.
Behind a ring and a hello, all it took was a phone call.
cancer is EVERYWHERE
April 23, 2008
I went to my school health center to get some information on self-breast exams and breast cancer today, upon asking the receptionist for any pamphlets or posters she inquired as to why I wanted this information. At first this bothered me, who the hell cares why I needed the information? I responded by telling her about my Mom, and how I am doing a project on breast cancer. She continued on by telling me how her Mom was diagnosed with cancer nine years ago. Unfortunately her Mom’s cancer had spread to her lymph nodes, and she is currently in remission and doing chemo.
It is absolutely crazy to me how many people have cancer, or know someone close to them with cancer. It feels like cancer is EVERYWHERE. We talked for a little while in a very casual manner discussing our moms’ cancer like we were talking about directions to the grocery store. It’s funny how cancer can be so emotional, yet so matter of fact. My dad died of cancer, my mom survived breast cancer, it is what is. We conversed in our “cancer world” vocabulary: “has it metastasized?” “Oh no, it’s spread to her lymph nodes, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Once you’ve been there you know, and with so many people experiencing it, it is impossible not to talk about it….everywhere. I mean within a five-minute in and out mission to get breast cancer information, I met another daughter who is experiencing cancer with her mom. Life is so weird like that, it is so easy to feel like you are the only one, or your family is the only cursed family, when in fact almost everyone I know is linked to a cancer experience in one way or another.
One of my family’s closest friends had cancer in her wrist, and after being in remission for four years it spread to her bone, and about a month ago she had to have her arm removed. She is currently going through chemotherapy, and has lost all of her hair. Hopefully I will be meeting with her this weekend. It actually makes me a little nervous, I haven’t seen or talked with a chemotherapy patient since my Dad, and I don’t want to get emotional, even though I know she would be fine with it. It just feels so exhausting sometimes, I mean come on….why, what is the point here, you know? I remember my Mom saying that right when she found out about her breast cancer. Sometimes it is so exhausting all we could do was laugh together. My Mom would say, "okay, bring it on cancer." There’s not a damn thing you can do except live with it, keep moving on, and occasionally share your story, support, and try to connect with someone else that is going through it.
TWO WEEKS
Apr 21, 2008 at 8:22 PM
I feel that I have very torn and diverse feelings about Cancer because each of my parents have had such different experiences with it. By the time we found out about my Dad’s cancer it had spread. When the doctors first discovered it was cancer they gave him two weeks to live. TWO WEEKS. I still remember sitting on the couch when he told us. I don’t remember anything afterwards just the whole family sitting on the couch in the TV room crying. From there on out it was second opinions, surgeries, and staying with friends while my parents were at Stanford for months at a time. It was three years of ups and downs, and we slowly watched my Dad’s physical strength disintegrate. Chemo was when things got really bad. I used to go to the clinic sometimes with my Dad and sit with him while the chemo was administered through a catheter in his chest.
Central Venous Catheter (CVC): A special thin, flexible tube placed in a large vein, usually in the chest, neck, or upper arm. It can remain there for as long as it is needed to deliver and withdraw fluids.
Chemotherapy: Chemotherapy is the common term for any treatment involving the use of chemical agents to stop cancer cells from growing. More than 100 chemotherapy drugs are used in various combinations depending on the type and severity of the cancer.
Side effects of Chemo:
-Nausea and vomiting
-Hair loss
-Fatigue
-Increased chance of bruising and bleeding
-Anemia (low red blood cell count)
-Infection
Parts of the body that are affected by Chemo:
-Intestinal problems
-Appetite and weight changes
-Sore mouth, gums and throat
-Nerve and muscle problems
-Dry and or discolored skin
-Sexual and fertility issues because of effects on reproductive organs
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The Start of My Research
April 20, 2008
11:30 am
Cancer Vocabulary
You know, one would think that after having two parents battle cancer I would be an expert. I’m not. When I start to write about cancer, I could create a book with personal reflection on what the disease has done to change my family’s and my own life, yet when it comes down to actual medical terms, I never cared, so they never stuck. When doctors would start talking all I wanted to know was, “do we have to do chemo?” And “will he/she be able to fight this?” Yet, I feel that I am coming to an age, and our environment is coming to a place where it is imperative to know everything. Now, I want to understand everything. What the hell is CANCER...really?
Cancer: The word cancer refers to changes in the body’s cells that cause them to grow out of control. Cancer can occur in almost any cell, it begins with damaged DNA that controls all cell functions, including when to divide (reproduce) and when to die. When DNA is damaged, cells can divide rapidly or outlive normal cells. Normally the body’s immune system recognizes damaged cells and destroys them. However, if this process does not take place a tumor can grow.
Tumors
Benign: Tumors that are noncancerous. They can grow, but they do not invade surrounding tissues or travel to other areas of the body.
Malignant: Tumors that are cancerous. Very different from normal cells, cancer cells can invade surrounding tissue. They can travel to areas away from the primary site and grow in other regions of the body.
Metastasis: When malignant tumors have spread to other parts of the body. Cancer cells often travel through the bloodstream or through the lymph system to other parts of the body where they begin to grow and replace normal tissue. This spreading process is called metastasis.
Even when Cancer has spread to different parts of the body it is still named for the place in the body from where it started. Breast cancer that has spread to the liver is called metastatic breast cancer, not liver cancer.
According to the American Cancer Society half of all men and one-third of all women in the United States will develop cancer during their lifetimes. “The risks of developing most types of cancer can be reduced by not smoking, limiting time in the sun, being physically active and eating a better diet …”
I hated hearing this last part from doctors. That’s it?! Neither of my parents smoked, they were both incredibly athletic, and always ate well. The truth is they don’t know what causes cancer yet. If Superman existed he would probably be getting a second opinion at Stanford right now.
Resources:
American Cancer Society: http://www.cancer.org/docroot/CRI/content/CRI_2_4_1x_What_Is_Cancer.asp?sitearea=
11:30 am
Cancer Vocabulary
You know, one would think that after having two parents battle cancer I would be an expert. I’m not. When I start to write about cancer, I could create a book with personal reflection on what the disease has done to change my family’s and my own life, yet when it comes down to actual medical terms, I never cared, so they never stuck. When doctors would start talking all I wanted to know was, “do we have to do chemo?” And “will he/she be able to fight this?” Yet, I feel that I am coming to an age, and our environment is coming to a place where it is imperative to know everything. Now, I want to understand everything. What the hell is CANCER...really?
Cancer: The word cancer refers to changes in the body’s cells that cause them to grow out of control. Cancer can occur in almost any cell, it begins with damaged DNA that controls all cell functions, including when to divide (reproduce) and when to die. When DNA is damaged, cells can divide rapidly or outlive normal cells. Normally the body’s immune system recognizes damaged cells and destroys them. However, if this process does not take place a tumor can grow.
Tumors
Benign: Tumors that are noncancerous. They can grow, but they do not invade surrounding tissues or travel to other areas of the body.
Malignant: Tumors that are cancerous. Very different from normal cells, cancer cells can invade surrounding tissue. They can travel to areas away from the primary site and grow in other regions of the body.
Metastasis: When malignant tumors have spread to other parts of the body. Cancer cells often travel through the bloodstream or through the lymph system to other parts of the body where they begin to grow and replace normal tissue. This spreading process is called metastasis.
Even when Cancer has spread to different parts of the body it is still named for the place in the body from where it started. Breast cancer that has spread to the liver is called metastatic breast cancer, not liver cancer.
According to the American Cancer Society half of all men and one-third of all women in the United States will develop cancer during their lifetimes. “The risks of developing most types of cancer can be reduced by not smoking, limiting time in the sun, being physically active and eating a better diet …”
I hated hearing this last part from doctors. That’s it?! Neither of my parents smoked, they were both incredibly athletic, and always ate well. The truth is they don’t know what causes cancer yet. If Superman existed he would probably be getting a second opinion at Stanford right now.
Resources:
American Cancer Society: http://www.cancer.org/docroot/CRI/content/CRI_2_4_1x_What_Is_Cancer.asp?sitearea=
Lets talk about BOOBS
April 19. 2008
TOUCH YOUR BOOBS, that is all I have heard since my Mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. Funny thing though, although I am a hypochondriac about everything else related to cancer, I almost NEVER touch my boobs. I hate touching them. First of all, I have fibrocystic breast, which means that they are already lumpy... I can't tell one bump from the rest. I want to touch my breast, I want to want to touch my breast, but I don't. I don't feel like I could memorize the bumps, much less notice if one was abnormal or not.
I found this link on how to give oneself a breast exam, and it has great diagrams, which I am going to follow and record tonight.
http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/testing/self_exam/bse_steps.jsp
Attached are pictures that I was taking at Victoria’s Secret before I got kicked out. As I watch my Mom lose all attachment to her breasts, it is incredible to me how much emphasis society puts on women and the beauty of their breasts. My poor boyfriend told me that my breasts were perfect only to hear a twenty-minute rant on how I wish I could get them removed. The fact is I hate breast, and the risks and discomfort they impose. I am a AA cup size, and have worn training bras all my life; I didn't even fit into a single bra at Victoria’s Secret. My Mom has talked about her insecurities when dating, and how she is going to explain the scars that have replaced where her size D boobs once sat. Although she did buy some fake rubber boobs that go into a bra, my Mom has been one hundred percent happier with those things gone. She was so amazing through the entire process. I mean right before the mastectomy she threw a bye, bye boobies party. Incredible! The experience of my Mom's cancer and my Dad's were very different.... very, very different.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Cancer is Emotional
April 18, 2008
When agreeing to write about my experience with Cancer, I didn’t even contemplate the idea of this being a difficult subject to reflect on. I mean I’ve been talking about cancer since I was 16. Yet, I have found that even with a thousand thoughts, memories, and facts all running through my head I can barely contain it all long enough to convey my experience. I am finding that when I start to write something, my automatic reaction to the subject of cancer is anger and hurt. To be completely honest, I’ve seemed to have blurred a lot of it out. This surprised me because I was very confident that I didn’t have lingering unresolved issues with my Dad’s passing, or the experience that my Mom had triumphed through.
I’ll feel one way about what cancer and my experiences represents to me, and then completely different a day later. Sometimes I am mad, hurt, sad, and resentful. Other days I feel empowered, proud, and even thankful for the lessons cancer has given my family and me. I guess the hospice nurse was right, cancer does make your life a “wave” of emotions. It sneaks up on you when you’re not looking and changes everything– executing its damage then leaving you to make sense of the whole mess. Even when I think I understand, and think I have moved on, new things come to light for me. As I grow older it means different things to me, and I begin to have multiple perspectives.
I was beginning to get emotional today, sifting through images of my family on a trip to Wyoming, and attempting to make this journal entry. I put down the pictures and drove to my campus library to study and get my mind off of cancer for a while. Upon walking through the doors of the Library I ran into a wall decorated with a tribute to Breast Cancer awareness set up by a Sorority. I started crying right then and there. I don’t know why, but while I consider that I’ve moved on, it will always be emotional. Cancer is emotional.
When agreeing to write about my experience with Cancer, I didn’t even contemplate the idea of this being a difficult subject to reflect on. I mean I’ve been talking about cancer since I was 16. Yet, I have found that even with a thousand thoughts, memories, and facts all running through my head I can barely contain it all long enough to convey my experience. I am finding that when I start to write something, my automatic reaction to the subject of cancer is anger and hurt. To be completely honest, I’ve seemed to have blurred a lot of it out. This surprised me because I was very confident that I didn’t have lingering unresolved issues with my Dad’s passing, or the experience that my Mom had triumphed through.
I’ll feel one way about what cancer and my experiences represents to me, and then completely different a day later. Sometimes I am mad, hurt, sad, and resentful. Other days I feel empowered, proud, and even thankful for the lessons cancer has given my family and me. I guess the hospice nurse was right, cancer does make your life a “wave” of emotions. It sneaks up on you when you’re not looking and changes everything– executing its damage then leaving you to make sense of the whole mess. Even when I think I understand, and think I have moved on, new things come to light for me. As I grow older it means different things to me, and I begin to have multiple perspectives.
I was beginning to get emotional today, sifting through images of my family on a trip to Wyoming, and attempting to make this journal entry. I put down the pictures and drove to my campus library to study and get my mind off of cancer for a while. Upon walking through the doors of the Library I ran into a wall decorated with a tribute to Breast Cancer awareness set up by a Sorority. I started crying right then and there. I don’t know why, but while I consider that I’ve moved on, it will always be emotional. Cancer is emotional.
Cancer Confessions
April 17, 2008
I need to get this off my chest:
Confession #1:
I think I’ve become a hypochondriac. My Great Grandma died of cervical cancer, my Dad died of a rare stomach cancer, my Mom is a breast cancer survivor, and my sister has had pre-cancerous moles removed. CANCER, CANCER, CANCER, CANCER. I’m sick and completely terrified of that six-letter word. I have had three pap smears this year, four blood test, I only use speaker phone when using my cell phone, I am a raw food vegan and I never put my lab top on my lap because I am sure that the radio waves will give me CANCER. I even worry that my worrying too much will inevitably give me cancer. Being so close to cancer has made me completely aware of every part of my body.
I removed nail polish from my toenails only to find them yellow, this sent me into an obsession where I spent two weeks researching nail fungus and remedies; I made an appointment with a foot doctor two hours away only to have him tell me it was the nail polish dying my nail… I still spray my nails with bleach twice a day and rub Vicks vapor rub on them. Literally, I do not miss a single day. I had a tumor removed from my shoulder even though the doctor insisted that it was benign, the stitches have put me out of all physical activities for two-weeks. I have become obsessed with diseases, and I cannot get the idea out of my head until I see a doctor or am tested.
Confession #2:
I was diagnosed maniac depressive after my Dad died. I think it is a total bullshit diagnosis, and every time I step into a psychiatrist, counselor, psychologist, or WHATEVER’s office I envision the Hospice nurse sitting in my living room while my Dad’s body was carried out behind her, telling me that my life was from now on going to be a “wave” of emotions. Her face blurs out, and all I can see is my Dad’s body being carried out of our home–my once family of four home. Every time a friend tries to talk to me about getting help or seeing a counselor my skin starts to crawl.
Confession #3:
After my Dad died it was like I had a constant excuse for everything, and I felt like the whole world played into it. Oh I’m sorry for being late, my Dad died. Oh I couldn’t get around to it, I’m so sorry, my Dad died when I was 16. It was this chip on my shoulder that suddenly demanded empathy whether I wanted it to or not. Freshman year I wanted to ditch class to drive to Tahoe to see my Boyfriend. So I mustered up some tears and told my Professor that I had just found out my Mom had gotten Breast Cancer… “We have been through this before with my Dad passing away so I am just very upset, and cannot be in class today.” He actually hugged me, and wished me the best. Two years later my Mom does have breast cancer, and I can’t help but feel like it is my fault. I told her this in the hospital after her mastectomy, and of course she laughed, but really, I still feel awful.
Confession #4:
Everyone says that my Dad is still watching me from “above.” I have never felt that this is true, my dad is dead and if he were watching me, I’m pretty sure he would not approve.
Storybook Beauty
A Personal Narrative
by Whitney Aiken
Personal Narrative
San Luis Obispo…it is a sheltered community set outside of the real world. It is beautiful, expensive, safe, and fun. I feel very fortunate to have grown up there. It is a fairly progressive community with Cal Poly bringing educators and students to the area, while also being well preserved and protected by the older generations that never left. It is actually a lot like Monterey, Carmel or Pacific Grove, with its storybook beauty and middle to upper class residents. Also, much like Salinas or Watsonville, there was Santa Maria and Atascadero on the outskirts of San Luis Obispo, with more affordable housing where lower income families could commute.
My Dad was head of the psychology department at Cal Poly, and my Mom was a rehabilitation counselor. My family was never wealthy, but comfortable. Both my parents worked with troubled individuals, so since a very young age both parents have emphasized the importance of recognizing how a lot of people struggle in this world, and that it is imperative to give back or help as much as possible.
I lived in a middle class neighborhood next to Cal Poly when I was in elementary school. The neighborhood was primarily retired couples, so my sister and I received a lot of attention for being the only kids in the area. We moved to a property out by Edna Valley when I was in the sixth grade. We built a house on six acres, and my Dad started a vineyard. Our house was the smallest on the block surrounded by mansions. We were a small humble family surrounded by wealth, but my dad was more interested in the wine and vineyard aspect of the property then a flashy home. I always felt an inch of humiliation creep over me when friends would have to drive by the enormously extravagant houses only to pull into the driveway of our un-landscaped humble home.
When I was in the seventh grade my Dad was diagnosed with Cancer. Yes C-A-N-C-E-R! Originally the diagnosis was that he had two weeks to live, but he held strong for three years after that. This completely changed everything. We ended up having to sell the vineyard and move into town because my Dad wasn’t able to help my Mom take care of the winery. To be completely honest, I don’t remember very much of life in San Luis Obispo after that. It consisted of going to the hospital at lunch instead of off with my friends, and both my parents gone for months at Stanford while my sister and I would stay with relatives. It was close calls, to remission, to relapse, Thanksgiving dinners in a box, and plastic Christmas trees in hospital waiting rooms. It was actually spending a lot of time at the Stanford Hospital that got me into art. I used to walk the halls just staring at the artwork, and I would draw in the ICU waiting room. My Dad was very into photography, and right before passing he gave me his old camera, which pointed me in the direction of photography.
It is actually really bizarre to write about San Luis Obispo, because I felt so outside of everything when my Dad was diagnosed. It just completely took over our lives, really that entire three years is a blur. When my Dad passed away my sophomore year of High School, we were living a block away from my School. It is this total “Leave it to Beaver” neighborhood with retired couples. We had this white picket fence, a red door, shutters, and vines growing up the walls. Really it was the perfect move for my parents while my Dad was sick, and continues to be perfect neighborhood for my Mom. The neighborhood has this real sense of community, there is actually a neighborhood mayor, and newspaper, and everyone knows what everyone else is doing. It drove me crazy when I was in High School, but I can appreciate it now that my Mom lives there alone, and I know she always has people around.
So after my Dad passed away I flipped, I freaked out! I signed up for foreign exchange in Panama, I mean anything to get me away from the emptiness that plagued my house. I found it so bizarre how something could go so wrong, that someone so important could be missing yet the world just carries on. I felt like I was going in slow motion while the rest of the world was in fast forward, and I could never catch up, never enjoy the parties, the dances; I felt outside of everything and alone, very alone. When my Dad died, so did the security he brought. It was like my Mom didn’t know how to be a Mom without him. I had no rules, we both just carried on in our own isolated worlds. So with images of perfect waves and a new family, six months after my Dad passed away, I signed up for a year in Panama. As soon as I got there every inch of me knew it was the wrong decision, it was too soon, and all I could think about was leaving my Mom alone. Instead of finding a new family to replace what I had lost, I had distanced myself from the only family I had left. I ended up switching families three times, and getting a bacterial infection in my eyes, I lasted six months before coming home.
I remember the plane landing and thinking that San Luis Obispo had somehow changed. The town, which I previously felt alone and detached, suddenly felt like home. Coming back from Panama was a big shock, suddenly I realized how privileged my community was, and how many people take things for granted. My Mom and I spent the next year and a half of High School coming to terms with losing my Dad. I was trying to be a normal High School kid, and enjoy our new life together.
November 2006 my Mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. Yet again, my entire world came crashing down around me. This last November she had a double mastectomy, and has been cancer free ever since (knock on wood). It still feels weird to actually say it out loud. Both parents aren’t supposed to battle cancer, I mean I thought this shit only happened in the movies. It’s not supposed to happen in real life, much less to me. Yet, every time I start to feel victimized, I remind myself that everybody has faced struggles in their life. Everyone has or will experience loss, and it is just a part of life. If I have learned anything from my parents, and their battles with cancer, it has been to never feel sorry for myself. And that it is absolutely necessary to recognize and understand that EVERYONE is or has battled something hard in their life…because this is life.
My father passing away, my experience in Panama, and my Mom battling breast cancer are the two things that shaped my growth the most. Primarily, I learned that I have the strength to get through anything, and the importance of family. I would say that out of all of the hospitals my family was in and out of for three years, that they are the institutions that I respect and fear the most. Hospitals have represented the best and worst moments of my life, but I will always owe my introduction to art to Stanford Hospital.
by Whitney Aiken
Personal Narrative
San Luis Obispo…it is a sheltered community set outside of the real world. It is beautiful, expensive, safe, and fun. I feel very fortunate to have grown up there. It is a fairly progressive community with Cal Poly bringing educators and students to the area, while also being well preserved and protected by the older generations that never left. It is actually a lot like Monterey, Carmel or Pacific Grove, with its storybook beauty and middle to upper class residents. Also, much like Salinas or Watsonville, there was Santa Maria and Atascadero on the outskirts of San Luis Obispo, with more affordable housing where lower income families could commute.
My Dad was head of the psychology department at Cal Poly, and my Mom was a rehabilitation counselor. My family was never wealthy, but comfortable. Both my parents worked with troubled individuals, so since a very young age both parents have emphasized the importance of recognizing how a lot of people struggle in this world, and that it is imperative to give back or help as much as possible.
I lived in a middle class neighborhood next to Cal Poly when I was in elementary school. The neighborhood was primarily retired couples, so my sister and I received a lot of attention for being the only kids in the area. We moved to a property out by Edna Valley when I was in the sixth grade. We built a house on six acres, and my Dad started a vineyard. Our house was the smallest on the block surrounded by mansions. We were a small humble family surrounded by wealth, but my dad was more interested in the wine and vineyard aspect of the property then a flashy home. I always felt an inch of humiliation creep over me when friends would have to drive by the enormously extravagant houses only to pull into the driveway of our un-landscaped humble home.
When I was in the seventh grade my Dad was diagnosed with Cancer. Yes C-A-N-C-E-R! Originally the diagnosis was that he had two weeks to live, but he held strong for three years after that. This completely changed everything. We ended up having to sell the vineyard and move into town because my Dad wasn’t able to help my Mom take care of the winery. To be completely honest, I don’t remember very much of life in San Luis Obispo after that. It consisted of going to the hospital at lunch instead of off with my friends, and both my parents gone for months at Stanford while my sister and I would stay with relatives. It was close calls, to remission, to relapse, Thanksgiving dinners in a box, and plastic Christmas trees in hospital waiting rooms. It was actually spending a lot of time at the Stanford Hospital that got me into art. I used to walk the halls just staring at the artwork, and I would draw in the ICU waiting room. My Dad was very into photography, and right before passing he gave me his old camera, which pointed me in the direction of photography.
It is actually really bizarre to write about San Luis Obispo, because I felt so outside of everything when my Dad was diagnosed. It just completely took over our lives, really that entire three years is a blur. When my Dad passed away my sophomore year of High School, we were living a block away from my School. It is this total “Leave it to Beaver” neighborhood with retired couples. We had this white picket fence, a red door, shutters, and vines growing up the walls. Really it was the perfect move for my parents while my Dad was sick, and continues to be perfect neighborhood for my Mom. The neighborhood has this real sense of community, there is actually a neighborhood mayor, and newspaper, and everyone knows what everyone else is doing. It drove me crazy when I was in High School, but I can appreciate it now that my Mom lives there alone, and I know she always has people around.
So after my Dad passed away I flipped, I freaked out! I signed up for foreign exchange in Panama, I mean anything to get me away from the emptiness that plagued my house. I found it so bizarre how something could go so wrong, that someone so important could be missing yet the world just carries on. I felt like I was going in slow motion while the rest of the world was in fast forward, and I could never catch up, never enjoy the parties, the dances; I felt outside of everything and alone, very alone. When my Dad died, so did the security he brought. It was like my Mom didn’t know how to be a Mom without him. I had no rules, we both just carried on in our own isolated worlds. So with images of perfect waves and a new family, six months after my Dad passed away, I signed up for a year in Panama. As soon as I got there every inch of me knew it was the wrong decision, it was too soon, and all I could think about was leaving my Mom alone. Instead of finding a new family to replace what I had lost, I had distanced myself from the only family I had left. I ended up switching families three times, and getting a bacterial infection in my eyes, I lasted six months before coming home.
I remember the plane landing and thinking that San Luis Obispo had somehow changed. The town, which I previously felt alone and detached, suddenly felt like home. Coming back from Panama was a big shock, suddenly I realized how privileged my community was, and how many people take things for granted. My Mom and I spent the next year and a half of High School coming to terms with losing my Dad. I was trying to be a normal High School kid, and enjoy our new life together.
November 2006 my Mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. Yet again, my entire world came crashing down around me. This last November she had a double mastectomy, and has been cancer free ever since (knock on wood). It still feels weird to actually say it out loud. Both parents aren’t supposed to battle cancer, I mean I thought this shit only happened in the movies. It’s not supposed to happen in real life, much less to me. Yet, every time I start to feel victimized, I remind myself that everybody has faced struggles in their life. Everyone has or will experience loss, and it is just a part of life. If I have learned anything from my parents, and their battles with cancer, it has been to never feel sorry for myself. And that it is absolutely necessary to recognize and understand that EVERYONE is or has battled something hard in their life…because this is life.
My father passing away, my experience in Panama, and my Mom battling breast cancer are the two things that shaped my growth the most. Primarily, I learned that I have the strength to get through anything, and the importance of family. I would say that out of all of the hospitals my family was in and out of for three years, that they are the institutions that I respect and fear the most. Hospitals have represented the best and worst moments of my life, but I will always owe my introduction to art to Stanford Hospital.
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