Aug 222005
 

OVCA in the news…

(not that this reminds me of how pissed off I am that the locum who was replacing my GP wouldn’t do a full physical when I complained of some pelvic weirdness. Poor little gender-confused fella, didn’t want me dropping my drawers, I reckon. Not that I mind, in retrospect. Poor fella.)

This story, scooped from here

Diagnosing Ovarian Cancer Earlier

(Ivanhoe Newswire) — It may be possible to detect ovarian cancer sooner than once thought. A new study finds many women with the disease have symptoms at least four months before they are diagnosed.

Researchers from the University of California Davis School of Medicine in Sacramento found women with ovarian cancer were at least twice as likely to see a physician for abdominal swelling or pelvic pain as early as 12 months before they were diagnosed. Nine months before diagnosis, the women were more likely to complain of abdominal pain. However, only about one-fourth of the women with these symptoms were tested for ovarian cancer in a timely manner.

The study authors conclude, “Our findings suggest that ovarian cancer could be diagnosed earlier in some patients whose diagnosis is delayed by at least four months because physicians order abdominal imaging or perform gastrointestinal procedures before they order a test more likely to diagnose ovarian cancer, such as pelvic imaging and/or CA125.”

Ovarian cancer is a fast-growing tumor, progressing from the early stage to advanced stage of the disease in as little as a year. It is usually diagnosed in the late stages when prognosis is poor. This study adds to the increasing evidence that patients may have symptoms many months before ovarian cancer is diagnosed and before it is advanced.

 Posted by at 9:14 pm
Aug 202005
 

okay, in this post, I will demonstrate for any and all of my readers that I am, in fact, a bit of a sloe learner.
slough.
sloww.
slow.

See, I have to tell you that I am now at the point where I find myself kind of wrestling some element of disbelief, some lingering doubt, some feeling that maybe I just had this terrible dream for a big chunk of last year and look at me now, all rested and refreshed and handsomely hirsute.
Sometimes, and always at the oddest times, I find myself stopped dead in my tracks while I try to make sense of the sentence, “Holy crap! I had/have cancer.”
See, I am so not good with all this that I don’t even know what tense to use for that sentence.

You see, I have had a pretty solid political understanding of AIDS since my friends started dying in the eighties.
And I know a bunch about the horrors of Hep C, because so many people I know have it and have to deal with all the crap that comes with it.
I have spent some time in the ringside seats watching those I love battle some big nasties.
And I have certainly had friends and loved ones deal with cancer, don’t get me wrong.
I just never, ever though I would be someone who dealt with cancer.
When it came to my time to step into the ring, I never saw myself, in the black silk trunks, going up against cancer.
Yes, even though I smoked for all those years.
Never mind that.
I just never saw myself that way.
So imagine how odd it was for me to get a type of cancer that, according to Dr. On-call-ogist, isn’t effected one way or the other by smoking.

I complain a lot lately about how I feel like I can’t keep up and how I am still trying to rebuild my life and I wish people would understand that.
Here’s my dirty confession.
I am not so good with remembering that detail myself.
I really want my old life back.
And if I can’t have most of that old life back, I’d like to fast track out of this time of reconstruction and re-figuring everything out again.

I would like to know how one mentions the events of the year 2004 without bringing any conversation to an awkward and grinding halt and creating a situation where I get treated, errr, differently.

I would like to have enough time in my life to make sense of last year, repair the carnage that exists in many little pockets of my life from last year, and think about my future and start getting on with it.

I would like to have enough time to have a thorough and comprehensive break-down about all the shit that happened to me and mine in 2004.
2004, really not my favorite year.
Not by a long shot.

I would like to just feel solid again.
And I would like to someway, somehow, make it up to my girlfriend.
I don’t even know where to begin.

That’s what I would like.

I guess the first step in accomplishing all that is to realize the totality of what I went through.
Sometimes I feel like I can only peek at the events of last year for a few moments at a time, otherwise it’s just too freaky and overwhelming.
So, every so often, I pry the lid off my box of terrors and watch my demons spin around the room and I wrestle them and sometimes I win.
There are a lot of demons in that box.

I think this is going to take a while.

 Posted by at 8:49 pm
Aug 152005
 

It’s true, I went to see Dr. On-call-ogist last week and he blessed me and sent me forth to sin again.
I didn’t mention it here yet because I have been trying to figure my emotional reaction to the whole thing.
Because it’s all kind of weird.
See, I am happy, happy, happy that my test results are good.
Trust me, I am not unappreciative of all that.

But it’s getting hard to talk about life in the the shadow of cancer treatment.
I don’t miss chemo and all its accompanying disgusting icky crappy bits, not one bit.
But I feel like I am wandering in fairly uncharted territory in the post-chemo battleground, and it’s hard because most people just assume I am better.
Hell, I certainly look better than I did a year ago.
And I do feel better than I did a year ago.
But I am still pretty wrecked.
I find myself weeping for no apparent reason.
And that’s a little hard to explain, especially when everyone figures you are all cured up and happy to rejoice in the wonder of every single fabulous day.
Sometimes I feel more alone now, in the whole making-sense-of-whatever-the-hell-that-was than I did when I did the chemo.
People basically expect me to be back in the saddle and ready to ride, like nothing had ever happened. And in as many ways as I can, I try to oblige.
But I am kind of less than perfect these days.
I know that may come as a shock.

It’s all kind of bizarre.

I didn’t mention my test results because I feel like this is becoming more and more of a solitary thing I am doing.
It’s hard to talk about the gravity of the situation and the long term prospects without sounding… melodramatic or something.
So I am talking less and less about the thrilling world of cancer and life with cancer and life after chemo and all that carcinogenic jazz.
I don’t want to whine about it.
It’s just how it is.

So, yeah, my test results were good.
And I am happy about that.
And I am worried, in a low, rumbling kind of way, about what my future holds.
And it seems like everyone has resumed their old lives and I am trying to make sense of all this.
I gotta say, those OVCA bloggers make all the difference in the world.
It’s very odd to draw such comfort from a group of women who I have pretty much never met, with the exception of the exceptional Louise.

So, that’s my sad story, amigos.

I try not to get too maudlin here, but I am going to post this because I think there isn’t enough info on how bizarre life after chemo can be.

 Posted by at 10:50 pm
Aug 132005
 

So we did the Trip of Fear to the Cancer Agency to get Spike’s quarterly test results. I thought I did well as we went into the building, because my teeth were barely chattering and I did not vomit on the floor. Spike was brave, but then, she’s just like that.

She passed with flying colours. No signs of cancer, happy bloodwork. Yes, yes. Go home, have a life. See you in three months.

And I look around at my life, and my love, and think about what a lucky grrl I am.

-Elaine

 Posted by at 5:40 pm
Aug 092005
 

Today is the 60th anniversary of the U.S. bombing of Nagasaki.
80,000 people died, 74,000 of them almost immediately.

Today,I heard an interview on the CBC with one of the pilots.
They asked him if he felt any grief, in retrospect.
He said, no.
He said that the Japanese had been really mean to the American troops.
He didn’t seem to think there was anything that was extra fucked up about killing thousands of civilians, including all the children that would have been killed.
He said he had gone back to Hiroshima and Nagasaki a few years after the war.

Apparently, Nagasaki was not the original target. Kokoru was, but the Americans couldn’t fly there because there was a typhoon.
Imagine that.

Having gone through 8 rounds of chemotherapy, I find it hard to understand how seemingly normal people could drop that bomb and kill and poison so many people.
See, I had cancer, and people hopped on board and helped me.
Because cancer is awful and people feel compelled to help.

But somehow, it’s okay to drop an atomic bomb on a bunch of unsuspecting civilians and have them die totally awful deaths.
It’s okay to kill those people with a ton of deadly poison (that will stay in the atmosphere and kill lots and lots and lots of people over the years) because, well, apparently because it was important to end the war.
(And besides, they weren’t that pink colour that we so admire in each other, so they must have brought it on themselves.
Or something.)
And hey, don’t get me wrong. I think bringing WW2 to an end would have been a pretty big priority.
But apparently, ol’ President Truman had a bit more on his mind than just “ending the war”.
Apparently it was important to get an unconditional surrender from the Japanese and send a message to the Soviets and the Japanese and the rest of the world that the Americans were the big old bad ass super-power of the world and they weren’t afraid to pull out the big guns to prove their point.

So, happy anniversary.
Let’s all pause to think about how far we have come.

 Posted by at 6:42 pm
Aug 052005
 

Yesterday, I got to meet Louise because she is here in my city.

We got together and it was lovely.
Louise is great. She is funny and smart and brilliant and lovely and smart and kind and sweet and lovely.
While I wouldn’t wish this disease on anyone, it’s awfully nice to sit and talk with someone who knows exactly what I mean when I complain about ovarian cancer and all its wild ride thrills and chills.

Chalk another one up for the benefits that come from cancer bloggers connecting up with each other.

I will say more about how spectacular Louise is soon, now I have a date to lift things and put them back down again, and then I must go swim in a lake.

But hooray for Louise.

 Posted by at 6:33 am
Jul 262005
 

I’ve been waiting and planning and waiting and waiting for this for a long time.

See, I have wanted a new tattoo for a while.
And then I got sick, and I couldn’t get one, partly because I had no money but mostly because I had no immune system.
So, my g-f bought me the tattoo as a combo Xmas/birthday prezzie.

And then I waited and waited for the immune system to come back.
And then I waited and waited to get my appointment, cuz my tattoo dude has a long line up and I had to wait a couple of months.

Anyway, here is the finished product.
I could babble on about the why’s of it all, but basically, this guy taught me a long time ago that the opposite of fear is faith, and that seems like a good thing for me to remember these days.

 Posted by at 9:57 pm
Jul 232005
 

vrooom

Okay, I am back.
This is where I went.
Or this is one of the places in the park where I camped.
It is the road up to a sub-alpine meadow. It had been pretty rainy and overcast until the last day of the trip, and then it turned into this perfect day.

The trip was good, and I think it was a good idea.

I’ll possibly throw a few more pictures from the trip up in my gallery in the next couple of days.

And I expect to have a totally spectacular picture to put up here in the next day or so.
Stay tuned, comrades.

 Posted by at 8:43 am
Jul 142005
 

Okay, I am loading up the truck and I am heading out of town to camp for a few days.
All by myself.
First camping trip I have ever done all by myself.
But the truth is, I have been a bit of a crabby old rat bastard the last while and I think I need some time to just sort through some things.
See, I don’t mean to suggest that doing chemo was easy, cuz it totally sucks great green monkey dicks.
But, here’s the thing…
Being back in the land of the normal, it’s kind of weird.
An awful lot happened to me and mine in the last 14 months or so, and I am feeling like I continue to scramble to make sense of what happened, catch up with the things that need to happen on a day to day level, and figure out what the hell I think I would like to do with my future, whatever that may look like.
And after cancer comes and rattles your cage, your perception of “the future” is kind of different.
Sort of how you might view “the future” if you had had your retina detached in a bar fight.

So off I go.
To sit among the mighty pines and mighty firs and just take some time to think about things.
And hopefully, to also take some time to not think about things.
Because frankly, this is the wildest ride I have ever been on.
And I am still trying to make sense of things, even though I am back on the ground.

Catch you again in a few days, campers.

 Posted by at 11:30 pm
Jul 082005
 

I was in the bathroom today and because of the way I was standing and the way the light was coming into the room, I was suddenly aware of the return to regular-life-ness of my eyelashes.
And then I remembered what life was like a year ago, as they slowly fell out, one by one.

This post-chemo era is a funny time.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not nostalgic for the thigh-slappin’ good times that chemo provides.
It’s just that now, everything seems all normal on the outside and I feel like I spend so much time scrambling to keep up with real life, and to also take the time to think about all the things that happened last year.
I dunno.
Sometimes it’s easy to get lost.
In fact, it’s probably easier to get lost now than it was last year, because I am more on my own now.
And that’s not a complaint. It’s an observation.
Sometimes it’s all a little overwhelming.
And, even if I am bouncing back, things are pretty scrambled on the inside.

It’s funny, because I seem to be pretty open about talking about the whole cancer escapade, and I find many people look at me with a sort of polite horror, not unlike wiping dog crap across a white carpet with your shoe.
People seem so freaked out about it, I start to wonder if I should just shut up about it.
Don’t wanna spoil their buzz, after all.
And then I start to feel like I am just getting all dramatic and making shit up, cuz explaining it to the non-cancerous civilians, well, it can all start to sound a bit dramatic and even I think I am full of crap.
It’s all very weird.

I am very grateful that these other gals who went through the OVCA nightmare are out there, blogging and keeping it real.
There is some sort of validation I get from that that I don’t get other places.
And I have this feeling that we are doing this very interesting thing to the whole experience of cancer, us OVCA bloggers.
Mark my words, folks… this is about a type of patient empowerment and I think it matters a lot.

So, thanks, gals.
You make the strange trip a whole lot easier.

 Posted by at 10:06 pm
Jun 302005
 

this article can be found here:

http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/medicalnews.php?newsid=26694#

An American Cancer Society survey finds up to half of Americans mistakenly believe surgery can spread cancer, and more than one in four thinks a cure for cancer already exists but is being held back by a profit-driven industry. Results of the survey are published in the August 1, 2005 issue of CANCER (http://www.interscience.wiley.com/cancer-newsroom), a peer-reviewed journal of the American Cancer Society. The authors say it shows the American public is significantly ill-informed about cancer, and that most overestimate how much they know.

The medical management of cancer and cancer-related complications, such as pain, has significantly improved over the last three decades, as have survival rates for leading cancers. Still, studies indicate that a patient’s own cultural beliefs and understanding of cancer may influence health behavior, such as whether patients get regular screenings and undergo treatment.

Led by Ted Gansler, M.D., M.B.A of the American Cancer Society, researchers conducted a national telephone survey of 957 adults with no history of cancer to assess Americans’ understanding of the disease and its management, and identify any demographic characteristics associated with misconceptions. Participants were asked if five misconceptions were true or false.

The authors found only one in four (25 percent) of participants correctly identified all five misconceptions as false. Four in ten (41 percent) of the respondents believed that surgical treatment actually spread cancer in the body and 13 percent said they were unsure whether this was true. Twenty-seven percent believed that there is a cure for cancer available being withheld by the healthcare industry and an additional 14 percent were uncertain. Nineteen percent believed that pain medications were ineffective in treating cancer pain with another 13 percent saying they did not know. Nine in ten (89 percent) correctly disagreed with the statement that “all you need to beat cancer is a positive attitude,” but more than one in ten (11 percent) either thought is was true or did not know. A similar percentage (87 percent) correctly disagreed that “cancer is something that cannot be effectively treated,” but again, about one in eight (13 percent) either agreed or did not know.

People who were over 65 years, of non-White race, residents of the South, or self-identified as without much or any understanding of cancer were likely to hold more misconceptions. The survey found little relation between people’s self-assessment of cancer knowledge and the accuracy of their answers. For four of the five questions, there was no significant difference in prevalence of endorsement of the inaccuracies between the groups who called themselves “very informed,” “somewhat informed,” or “not very informed.” However, those who called themselves “not at all informed” were generally quite accurate when rating their own health literacy.

“These results indicate that public and patient education interventions are most urgently needed in cancer centers, medical practices, and other community organizations that serve large numbers of patients with these ‘at risk’ demographic characteristics,” conclude the authors.

 Posted by at 9:48 am
Jun 302005
 

Take the MIT Weblog Survey

And now you should steal from me!

Bloggers of the world, get your calloused little digits over to the MIT site and take this survey.

It seems to me that we are changing the world here and I think it’s exciting to be part of the scientific analysis of it.

 Posted by at 12:18 am
Jun 292005
 

I found this article on the Globe and Mail website yesterday but then it vanished into the land of the paid subscription.
Thankfully, it appears here as well

Text below:

Many believe the breast cancer-fighting drug Herceptin is being delayed needlessly by the Canadian government; unless emergency relief is provided, more lives will be lost.

Herceptin had been used by patients over the past six years for metastasized breast cancer patients with an excess of HER-2, a protein caused by a genetic mutation. Up to 30 percent of breast cancer patients have these symptoms, which makes the cancer much more difficult to treat. Three different studies have shown that Herceptin can treat this specific form of breast cancer at a much earlier stage than previous therapies.

Yet many patients cannot afford the $35,000 per year minimum price of Herceptin treatments, and insurance companies will not cover the drug because the medication has not been officially approved for use.

It is estimated that 115 women each month could see their symptoms return and eventually lead to death without use of the breakthrough breast cancer medication. Activist organizations are calling for Canadian government officials to invoke an emergency disaster relief program for patients at risk but unable to afford Herceptin treatments.

Dr Joseph Ragaz, director of McGill University Health Centre’s oncology program, sent information concerning Herceptin to various media outlets in hopes that increased awareness concerning the drug will bring policy changes. He believes the restrictions are hindering his ability to treat patients.

“It’s a big frustration. As a physician, you are on a sacred mission.” he said. “And the only reason you are being blocked from that mission is for fiscal reasons.”

 Posted by at 11:46 pm
Jun 292005
 

Okay, so I had to go to a memorial service on Sunday and I am still dealing with the experience.

It was strange on a few levels.

First and foremost, there is the loss of someone who was in my life, even if that has become a peripheral involvement over the last few years.
And there is the great sense of tragedy for the family.
That part is awful.

And there was the Big Chill factor.
I worked with Benjamin for about 8 years, and it was, at the time, a really close-knit group of people at that workplace.
Almost all of us have gone on to other things in the meantime, but there we all were, just like it was ten years ago.
It was one of the most surreal time-tweaking experiences I have ever had.

But the part that was really weird that was particular to me was the fact that on some level, I am the person many of those people expected to be dead by now, not Benjamin.
That is partly because Benjamin wasn’t someone you would expect to die at the age of 54. He ate pretty well and was a pretty active guy.
And, I think for many people, when they hear that someone they know has cancer, they begin that process of letting go, of anticipating the future loss, and pretty soon the person with cancer moves deeper and deeper into the territory of “other”.
Now, that isn’t true of everyone, but I certainly have felt it from some people over the last chunk of time.
So, it is bizarre on a lot of levels to show up at the memorial service of the guy who shouldn’t have died when you are the one that people had expected to die.
It’s sort of like I cheated death and somebody had to take my place.
(Or maybe I watched too much Buffy while I was sick and I have some Whedonesque guilt. I dunno.)
It was weird.
And I am still thinking it through.

One thing I will say… when that day does come when I kick up my heels, every one should know that there is no need for people to talk about my defects of character at any memorial service that may occur.
I’m just sayin’.
People get turned off by how smarmy a lot of these things are, and I tend to agree. But having spent some time listening to people be all touchy-feely and honest about the dead person’s shortcomings, I have to say, it’s no better, and actually, I think it’s worse.
Go have a beer with your inner circle and talk about that stuff.
Don’t say it in front of his kid or his partner or his brother.

Anyway, there it is.
So far, I am surviving, and it’s strange. Sometimes, it’s strange.
Of course, if you have been doing the recommended reading at home, you know that the ‘survivin’ status could change in a heartbeat.
But I am trying to be happy with what is good in the moment, because I would be so spectacularly pissed off if I had a recurrence and I hadn’t made the most of it now, while I am doing okay.

This last few weeks have been kind of weird.
See, I am a person who focuses on calendar dates quite a bit.
And right now is about a year after when I started chemo.
I keep thinking back to what it was like to be about to start chemo, and how overwhelming and frightening it was to have to start this thing I only knew by its bad reputation.
And how fast everything happened, and how fast my life changed from employed and pretty self-sufficient to being on disability unemployment insurance and having to rely on my girlfriend and my friends to get most basic things done.
I remember being afraid that the process would harden me emotionally, and I didn’t want that.
I think it did, and frankly, I can’t see any viable alternative.
Nowadays I think that my biggest job is to make sense of what I just went through, and then I realize that I don’t have a clue where I should begin with something like that.
And I wonder if I start, will I just sit down and cry about what I lost, and cry, and cry, and cry, and maybe never stop?
How will I stop?
There is a whole bunch of anger inside me because of what I lost, and then I feel unreasonable for being angry because, for Christ’s sake, I am still alive, against all odds, so what do I have to be pissed off about?
I had great care on every possible level.
I know that and I believe that.
And there is still an underlying anger that I had to go through that.
That I put Elaine through that.
That I have to spend so much effort to get back to where I was before and part of me knows I will never get there. That I can’t just become a normal person again.
It’s like I was abducted by aliens.
I know what happened and I know that it changed me, even if I do a crappy job of trying to explain it to you.
I know that the time I spent on Uranus has made me different than the average earthling.

When I was doing chemo, people told me I was brave.
See, I don’t see it that way.
I just did what I had to do and I think almost anyone would have done the same.
You just put one foot in front of the other and you do what they tell you, because you don’t have many realistic alternatives.
And now that there is time to breathe and time to look back over my shoulder, it’s time to try to make sense of it.
I feel a bit like I fell through the ice and then crawled back out and made my way to relative safety. I still know the ice could give out underneath me at any moment, but for now, I am still trying to get my vital signs back to normal and deal with the fact that I am freezing.
I don’t think I do a very good job of explaining it. I think my cancer comrades do a better job of explaining it in their blogs.

So, that’s where it’s at for me these days.
And no, if I bump into you in person, I don’t want to talk about it.
It’s just how it is.
I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me or anything. I just need people to understand that even though I finished chemo, but I haven’t completely finished with the cancer episode.
I wish it was that way, but it’s not.

 Posted by at 11:05 pm
Jun 292005
 

well, it seems our place at the back of the bus is going to have to be handed over to surly teenagers.

This from the CBC website found here:

http://www.cbc.ca/story/canada/national/2005/06/28/samesex050628.html

Same-sex marriage law passes 158-133
Last Updated Wed, 29 Jun 2005 10:45:06 EDT
CBC News

The Liberals’ controversial same-sex marriage legislation has passed final reading in the House of Commons, sailing through in a 158-133 vote.

Supported by most members of the Liberals, the Bloc Québécois and the NDP, the legislation passed easily, making Canada only the third country in the world, after the Netherlands and Belgium, to officially recognize same-sex marriage.

But the passage of Bill C-38, once again, came with a political price tag for the government. Joe Comuzzi, resigned from the cabinet so he could vote against the bill – an open rebuke of the government legislation.

Comuzzi was the minister responsible for Northern Ontario.

Although he was the only cabinet minister to break ranks with Prime Minister Paul Martin over the controversial plan to legalize the marriage of gays and lesbians, it highlighted the divisions within Canada and within the Liberal party, pitting supporters of equality rights against those who are defending religious freedoms.

For Comuzzi, the decision to resign meant putting principles ahead of the privileges of cabinet. “In 2004, during the election, I promised faithfully to the people of Thunder Bay-Superior North, that I would defend the definition of marriage,” he said, explaining his move.

The prime minister said he regretted the decision of a man he called an “old friend,” but accepts it because the government must speak with one voice on same-sex marriage.

The “vote is about the Charter of Rights,” said Martin. “We’re a nation of minorities and in a nation of minorities you don’t cherry-pick rights.”

The government has moved over the last few months to appease critics both within Liberal ranks and among Canadians at large. Amendments were introduced to ensure no religious group or charitable organization would be forced to accept same-sex marriage. But in spite of those amendments some groups remain unconvinced.

Same-sex marriage remains one of the most difficult issues ever to confront Canadian politicians. In large part passage of the bill is the reason the parliamentary session was extended for the first time in 17 years.

But while Tuesday night’s vote closes off the debate in the Commons, the Conservatives insist there is no closure for Canadians who believe marriage should continue to be defined as the union of a man and a woman, to the exclusion of all others.

Conservative Leader Stephen Harper says if his party forms the next government, the law will be revisited.

Harper made the promise one day after suggesting the adoption of the law lacked legitimacy because it relied on the support of the separatist Bloc Québécois. Harper said he believes Bloc MPs are the legitimate representatives of Quebec voters. But he argues most Canadians aren’t buying it as a final decision since most federalist MPs are opposed to same-sex marriage.

Harper says a Conservative government would hold a free vote for all MPs on the matter, rather than forcing cabinet ministers to vote with the government.

 Posted by at 3:25 pm