Cancer patients have access to an unprecedented array of information sources, support networks and other resources to guide us through the very complex maze of medical procedures and treatments. We have access to medical specialists such as: medical and radiation oncologists; gastroenterologists and neurologists. Through the Cancer Centre, we can make use of the Ninon Bourque library; consult nutritionists, social workers, and pain specialists; and attend exercise classes. Soon we will have the Maplesoft Wellspring Centre that will provide a myriad of these services under one roof.
So where does the role of peer support fit in? Peer support can take many forms. It can come via one-on-one support either in person, over the phone or via the internet. It can take the form of regularly scheduled meetings or internet discussion groups. Regardless of format and venue, these various forms of peer support all have one thing in common; they bring together cancer patients and/or their caregivers with cancer survivors.
During the early days of my diagnosis, my family doctor provided me with contact information for the local Colorectal Cancer support group. I took the info and promptly filed it away along with the rest of the pamphlets and books I received from the hospital and the Canadian Cancer Society. I was never a big follower of support groups and I failed to see how this time would be any different.
So, what changed my mind?
When I was discharged from the hospital after my colon resection surgery, I was sent home with some basic aftercare information. After about a week of colon ‘non-performance’ and increasing discomfort, I was starting to worry that something was seriously wrong with my newly rearranged insides. I spent several days chasing down my surgeon and my gastroenterologist. Neither one was able to help me. I didn’t know where else to turn, so I dug up the phone number my doctor gave me and I called Sandra. Sandra heads the Ottawa chapter of the Colorectal Cancer support group. I think I spent well over an hour speaking with her that first time. Sandra asked a lot of questions in order to help figure out what my problems were, and while she had no magic solution to my problem, she assured me that what I was experiencing was normal and gave me a few things to try. She invited me to attend the next meeting at which I could have the benefit of speaking to others with similar experiences. I braved the minus 30 temperature that January evening and attended my first meeting. That was two years ago, and I’ve missed only a few meetings since.
So what does peer support provide that doctors or family cannot?
Peer support may well be the only venue a cancer patient has whereby s/he can be totally free to express his or her feelings. Cancer patients often feel that they must put on a brave face and be positive in front of family and friends. Topics such as bowel performance, hospice, palliative care and death are often taboo in a family setting.
Doctors and nurses with their heavy case-loads do not have the luxury of spending much time with each patient. Unless they have also gone through the cancer experience themselves, they may not always have the answers to certain questions or concerns.
By virtue of bringing together survivors and patients, there can be an exchange of ideas and information based on those personal experiences that are unique to those living with cancer, and that is a good thing!
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
All I want for Christmas………..
The other day I read a post on a friend’s Facebook Page wall that said, “Most people have a thousand wishes for Christmas, but a Cancer Patient only has one; to get better”.
I don’t know where my friend found this quote and I have been looking for its source ever since to provide proper references and much thanks to its author for this meaningful phrase.
Christmas can be a very trying time for both those battling the disease and their caregivers.
To begin with, Ottawa is a cold city during the winter and for those who are actively on chemotherapy treatments that include some of the platinum-based chemo cocktails (ie: oxaliplatin, cisplatin) venturing outside can be excruciatingly painful. In fact, even putting a hand in the refrigerator, let alone the freezer, can bring on tears! I experienced this first hand when I went through several cycles of FolFox (which includes oxaliplatin) during the winter months and I will never forget the searing pain which assaulted my face, especially my eyes, when I tried going outside even for a few moments.
Beside the physical pain that treatments can inflict upon the body; be it from the cold, the nausea, the lack of appetite, the odd taste of food, as well as the never-ending fatigue, there is also the emotional burden many cancer patients will experience.
Christmas is supposed to be a time of love, laughter, family get-togethers and most of all, a time of hope and renewal. As a cancer patient, it can be quite daunting to get into this Christmas spirit when you not only feel like crap, but look like crap, and ‘hope’ becomes just a four letter word. Family members who think they are helping the cancer patient with their constant words of encouragement and positive platitudes are in many cases not. In fact, they may be adding another layer of burden onto the patient who often feels guilty that s/he can not put on a happy and/or brave face for the sake of the family when this may be the last thing they feel like doing. Sometimes, but especially during the Christmas holiday season, cancer patients just need to be able to express how they feel without others judging them and without hearing that annoying, ‘everything’s going to be all-right dear’.
So, if any of you have family or close friends who are fighting the good fight this Christmas season, the best gift you can give them is the gift of listening, being there for them, and most of all, refraining from telling them not to worry because everything’s going to be all-right dear’.
I don’t know where my friend found this quote and I have been looking for its source ever since to provide proper references and much thanks to its author for this meaningful phrase.
Christmas can be a very trying time for both those battling the disease and their caregivers.
To begin with, Ottawa is a cold city during the winter and for those who are actively on chemotherapy treatments that include some of the platinum-based chemo cocktails (ie: oxaliplatin, cisplatin) venturing outside can be excruciatingly painful. In fact, even putting a hand in the refrigerator, let alone the freezer, can bring on tears! I experienced this first hand when I went through several cycles of FolFox (which includes oxaliplatin) during the winter months and I will never forget the searing pain which assaulted my face, especially my eyes, when I tried going outside even for a few moments.
Beside the physical pain that treatments can inflict upon the body; be it from the cold, the nausea, the lack of appetite, the odd taste of food, as well as the never-ending fatigue, there is also the emotional burden many cancer patients will experience.
Christmas is supposed to be a time of love, laughter, family get-togethers and most of all, a time of hope and renewal. As a cancer patient, it can be quite daunting to get into this Christmas spirit when you not only feel like crap, but look like crap, and ‘hope’ becomes just a four letter word. Family members who think they are helping the cancer patient with their constant words of encouragement and positive platitudes are in many cases not. In fact, they may be adding another layer of burden onto the patient who often feels guilty that s/he can not put on a happy and/or brave face for the sake of the family when this may be the last thing they feel like doing. Sometimes, but especially during the Christmas holiday season, cancer patients just need to be able to express how they feel without others judging them and without hearing that annoying, ‘everything’s going to be all-right dear’.
So, if any of you have family or close friends who are fighting the good fight this Christmas season, the best gift you can give them is the gift of listening, being there for them, and most of all, refraining from telling them not to worry because everything’s going to be all-right dear’.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Importance of Self-Advocacy
Through my involvement with support groups and by the virtue of being a cancer patient/survivor, I get to talk to a lot of people about cancer.
Given we are living in the 21st century and experiencing the highest levels of education and information availability in human history, it is surprising that so many people are taking what I consider a laisssez-faire attitude towards their, or their loved ones’ disease and treatment. I sometimes wonder if such an attitude is borne out of sheer fear; the “head in the sand, what we don’t know won’t hurt us” mentality. If this is the case, the irony of the matter would be that the fear of the unknown just adds to the stress and anxiety.
I’m not suggesting that one should sit in front of a computer all day using “Google” to search out survival statistics, a truly depressing pastime! What I am suggesting is that patients and caregivers take control of their disease and not have the disease control them.
When I was first diagnosed, I knew absolutely nothing about colon cancer. In fact, I really didn’t know much about that part of my anatomy at all. I felt as if I was thrown into another universe; a universe full of words and jargon I have never heard before let alone understand. Two years ago words such as: sphigmoid, ileus, lymph node, vascular involvement, carcinoembryonic antigen, and neutraphils were just not in my vocabulary! As a result, I made it my pet project to learn as much as I could, not because I wanted to upstage my doctor(s), but I truly wanted to understand my disease and its treatment. I also did not want the doctors to feel obliged to ‘talk down’ to me like I was an ignorant child. I wanted to let the medical team know that not only was I going to be actively involved in my treatment, I was going to be the one making the decisions. It is my life after all: I have ownership, I have the responsibility. And you know what? The doctors were not only okay with that approach; they seemed relieved to be dealing with an informed, consenting adult.
Given today’s medical system pressures, I think it’s unrealistic for patients to delegate all matters concerning their health and well-being to their doctors. Doctors have enough on their plate because of a demanding case load without having to hold each patient’s hand and guide them through the cancer journey.
While they are important players in the cancer fighting team, no one doctor is the captain, the patient is. It is up to the patient to formulate questions and have them ready for the appointment, making the often short visits with the doctor that much more productive. At the same time people should not be put off when the doctor answers some of the questions with, ‘We don’t know’. He or she does not have a crystal ball; there are still too many unknowns with the disease and its treatments.
Here are some handy tips I have put together based on my own experience:
- Obtain copies of your medical procedures; ie: surgical report, pathology report, CT/MRI reports, blood work, etc. Your medical records contain lots of important details that your doctor may not always have time to discuss with you. These are YOUR records and you have a right to them.
- Formulate your questions ahead of your doctor’s visits. Write them down if necessary. Bring them with you to your appointments.
- If at all possible, bring someone with you to your appointments. This person can help you recall what was discussed and/or take notes.
- If you don’t understand a particular medical term, look it up! There are numerous medical dictionaries available on-line. If you don’t have access to a computer, the Ottawa Cancer Centre has a library and fabulous research support waiting to help you!
- Keep a diary/journal of your symptoms. Sometimes treatments, especially chemo can cause ‘chemobrain’, and you won’t always remember to mention things at your appointment.
- Raise any side-effects or symptoms with your doctor. Many treatments and drugs can be modified and/or changed if you are not tolerating them well. If you are suffering incapacitating pain, ask the Cancer Centre or your doctor for a referral with the pain specialist.
- Do not be scared or intimidated to ask for a 2nd opinion if you are not comfortable with your doctor’s diagnosis or medical advice. A good doctor will welcome a peer’s opinion.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
My Story
The pieces of a puzzle came together for me late in the month of October 2008 as I sat in the Queensway Carleton Hospital
A whirlwind of activities soon followed. Within days I was booked for a CT scan and appointment with a surgeon who, again, within days performed a sphigmoidoscopy to double check the location, size and I guess resectability of the tumour which by that time I knew to be located in the sigmo-rectal area. Surgery was booked for the following week. There were so many things to be scared of. What if I didn’t make it through surgery? What if the surgeon found more tumours? What if I needed a colostomy? So many questions went through my mind at that time; questions that had no immediate answers. Even though I had the support of my entire family, I never felt so alone and scared as I did on that surgery day. It was only then, as I was being wheeled in to the O.R. that my surgeon informed me that the CT scans seemed clear of additional tumours.
Thanks to my wonderful surgeon, the surgery was uneventful. While he warned me beforehand that I might end up with a temporary colostomy, a quick abdominal check proved that he was able to do the resection without the need for one. In addition, my scars were minimal, none of them visible in a bikini. My hospital stay was textbook, I weaned off the morphine very quickly (it made me nauseous!), I was walking every day, and even had solid food on my last day! My only scare occurred when blood tests showed dangerously low haemoglobin. I came very close to needing a transfusion, but in the end my body came through and my haemoglobin came back up on its own.
After the normal surgery recuperation period of about 8 weeks, I was referred to the Cancer Centre (General Hospital
My biggest fear then, as it is now, is that the cancer will return. Unfortunately, too many cancer patients experience a recurrence. While I feel extremely fortunate to be alive and healthy two years later, I am also scared. Colorectal Cancer is a relentless, unpredictable disease. It doesn’t follow rules and doesn’t care how healthy you are. With each passing day, I strive to live my life as fully as possible and not dwell on statistics. As other cancer survivors can attest, life is never the same again. While we live under the constant fear of the ‘other shoe falling’, we also feel as if we’ve been given a second chance at life. I know for myself, I have re-prioritized what is important to me and I don’t sweat the small stuff. I have re-learned to enjoy the small things: coffee in bed, a beautiful sunset, dinner with good friends, sharing a funny joke. Every day I am alive is a gift.
Monday, December 20, 2010
“Four Women, Same Cancer, Four Journeys”
When most folks think of “Cancer” the most important aspect seems to be whether the patient survived or succumbed to the disease. They may also inquire about treatments; radiotherapy versus chemotherapy, or possibly some crazy new clinical trial. I must admit, until I went through my own crazy rollercoaster ride that is the cancer journey, I really didn’t pay all that much attention to what cancer patients actually experience during that ride.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of spending a fun evening at a local pub with 3 incredible women. All four of us are in our 50’s, living in and around Ottawa and all four of us are colorectal cancer survivors. This is where the similarity ends. It was while I sat there sipping my designer beer, involved in multiple conversations around the table that I realized just how differently each of us experienced the same cancer.
There’s Lynn, diagnosed 5 years ago with Stage IV, our ‘senior survivor’ who has lived through a total blockage of her bowel followed by a liver and bowel resection (at the same time!). We are all jealous of how she breezed through treatment often bragging how she was able to drink wine while still on treatment. From my own chemo experience, the thought of drinking wine just made my stomach churn.
Then there is Trish, originally diagnosed at Stage II, endured chemo and radiation treatments which almost killed her, only to discover abdominal metastases months later. She was deemed incurable by local doctors only offering palliative systemic chemo. Trish, a bulldog of a fighter was not prepared to accept that diagnosis and as a result made it a full time job to read up on her condition. Her research identified HIPEC (Heated Intraperitoneal Chemo) as a possible course to follow. A lot of hard work to establish her qualification for this treatment with the collaboration of her local oncologist led to her subsequent admission for treatment out of province. While she is not out of the woods yet, and she is in much pain from the onslaught of treatments she has had to endure over the past two years, she is, at this moment cancer free.
Julie is the ‘newbie’ of this group. A stage III survivor, she has the added challenge of being a diabetic. I cannot imagine the amount of balancing that must have taken place in trying to deal with a lifelong chronic disease and cancer treatments at the same time. Julie hung in there and did her treatments like a pro, with an added ‘bonus’ of losing most of her gorgeous curly hair. (Complete hair loss is not usual for standard Colorectal Cancer chemo treatments). For colorectal patients the colonoscopy is part of our screening arsenal. While a safe and relatively simple procedure for most, it can be challenging for those who have undergone a surgical resection. This is because when a colon is resected following removal of the tumour and the damaged/diseased sections, it doesn’t always heal in a textbook manner. Adhesions, scar tissue, strictures and bowel looping are unfortunately quite common. This has become Julie’s latest battle; one that I hope I can help her with as unfortunately I have personal experience.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Love Actually
"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends... If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around." – Love Actually (2003)
In light of the upcoming holiday season, I've broken out Love Actually. It's one of my very favourite films. I took a couple of hours to sit down with a small group of friends and family and watch it the other day and it reminded me of the small things we often take for granted in our lives. Whether it be our family and friends, our health or the opportunities we're presented with each day, we all have so much to be grateful for!
Thank you for reading my blogs over the course of this week! I want to wish each and every one of you a fond farewell and a very happy holiday season. May your holidays be filled to the brim with love!
In light of the upcoming holiday season, I've broken out Love Actually. It's one of my very favourite films. I took a couple of hours to sit down with a small group of friends and family and watch it the other day and it reminded me of the small things we often take for granted in our lives. Whether it be our family and friends, our health or the opportunities we're presented with each day, we all have so much to be grateful for!
Thank you for reading my blogs over the course of this week! I want to wish each and every one of you a fond farewell and a very happy holiday season. May your holidays be filled to the brim with love!
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The power of positivity
We've all known a person who complains about everything. I would think that all of us also realized at some point that this person was not the most pleasant to be around. But it's not always as simple to recognize how pleasant it can be to be around someone who is too busy being positive to complain!
I was reminded by a loved one the other day just how pleasant it is. Positivity is infectious, not only between people, but within a person. It makes us forget about our problems for a moment and think about others. Then it makes us realize how fortunate we are to our loved ones in our lives, and that makes them feel appreciated and even more loved, and then they show us that love in return. At the end of the day, we get what we give. I, for one, am of the opinion that the most important thing is love, because that's where the good things in life come from.
Positivity is something that I'm always working on myself. While I try to focus on the positive things in my life, I also have to remind myself sometimes that complaining about things does not make them better (whereas focusing on the bright side very often does). The silver lining is not always easy to find, but when you do find it, you begin to find that many more things had silver linings than you had imagined!
One thing I know I'm intensely grateful for is the support that I've received from so many people over the past weeks. I may have raised money and planned to donate my hair for others, but I also got so much more out of it than I can express. For starters, I got the amazing feeling of knowing that love and kindness is alive and well in the people all around me, including the complete strangers who made sacrifices of their own to help me. I will remember all of my supporters fondly, and they're memories that I know I'll keep with me for many years to come!
I was reminded by a loved one the other day just how pleasant it is. Positivity is infectious, not only between people, but within a person. It makes us forget about our problems for a moment and think about others. Then it makes us realize how fortunate we are to our loved ones in our lives, and that makes them feel appreciated and even more loved, and then they show us that love in return. At the end of the day, we get what we give. I, for one, am of the opinion that the most important thing is love, because that's where the good things in life come from.
Positivity is something that I'm always working on myself. While I try to focus on the positive things in my life, I also have to remind myself sometimes that complaining about things does not make them better (whereas focusing on the bright side very often does). The silver lining is not always easy to find, but when you do find it, you begin to find that many more things had silver linings than you had imagined!
One thing I know I'm intensely grateful for is the support that I've received from so many people over the past weeks. I may have raised money and planned to donate my hair for others, but I also got so much more out of it than I can express. For starters, I got the amazing feeling of knowing that love and kindness is alive and well in the people all around me, including the complete strangers who made sacrifices of their own to help me. I will remember all of my supporters fondly, and they're memories that I know I'll keep with me for many years to come!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Staying connected
Quite a few years ago, I lost touch with a friend of mine. Several years passed and I almost began to forget about her. Then one day, the opportunity to reconnect presented itself and I jumped at it.
Even though we still don't see each other often, reconnecting with my friend is something I've never regretted. As far as friends go, there really isn't anything like an old friend. They are the ones who very often knew you before you became "you". That is to say, before life got in the way and you got too concerned with the silly things. The people who knew you way back when are just the people who will slap you silly if you forget where you came from, and sometimes we need that!
Our roots are not only important, but also something to be proud of. Why? Because they're a part of us. If we're not proud of our roots, then we can't really be proud of who we are now and the choices we've made. We've all been told that you can't love someone else unless you love yourself, and it's true.
Roots aren't always particularly unusual or "special", but that doesn't mean they're not important. Everything that has happened in our lives has had an impact on who we are. And besides, the beginnings lay the foundation for what we're working to make into a very special life!
Even though we still don't see each other often, reconnecting with my friend is something I've never regretted. As far as friends go, there really isn't anything like an old friend. They are the ones who very often knew you before you became "you". That is to say, before life got in the way and you got too concerned with the silly things. The people who knew you way back when are just the people who will slap you silly if you forget where you came from, and sometimes we need that!
Our roots are not only important, but also something to be proud of. Why? Because they're a part of us. If we're not proud of our roots, then we can't really be proud of who we are now and the choices we've made. We've all been told that you can't love someone else unless you love yourself, and it's true.
Roots aren't always particularly unusual or "special", but that doesn't mean they're not important. Everything that has happened in our lives has had an impact on who we are. And besides, the beginnings lay the foundation for what we're working to make into a very special life!
Monday, December 6, 2010
What hope means to me.
I'm a busy woman. I study full-time as a Ph. D. student at the University of Ottawa and I teach Spanish classes three days a week. At the same time, I decided to begin a fundraiser for the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation. Many people thought I was crazy. "Where are you going to find the time?" they would ask me. But important things aren't hard to find the time for. Helping to bring cancer patients closer to the treatments they need is something that I'm really excited about. I'm a firm believer that helping people is good for the soul. There is simply nothing more rewarding than seeing someone smile when they discover that there is hope!
Someone once told me, "Hope is for sick people and losers." I cannot disagree more. Hope is an amazing thing, most especially when combined with dedication and hard work. It's what keeps a smile on our faces when things aren't going well. It's what makes us keep trying when we're knocked down. We hope that our actions will yield the results that we're aiming for. We hope that the people around us will be on our side when it matters the most. We don't have control over everything in life, but we do have control over how we look at the world. I am one who hopes.
It is with that in mind that I set a substantial fundraising goal and pledged to cut off my 3-foot-long hair for cancer patients. Yes, I have been working hard, but I also have hope. I hope that the people who hear about my goal (or others like mine) pay a moment of attention to an amazing cause. I hope that somewhere someone in need of a wig is as excited as I am about what I'm doing. And most importantly, I hope that others will see what can be accomplished when we put our minds to something!
Someone once told me, "Hope is for sick people and losers." I cannot disagree more. Hope is an amazing thing, most especially when combined with dedication and hard work. It's what keeps a smile on our faces when things aren't going well. It's what makes us keep trying when we're knocked down. We hope that our actions will yield the results that we're aiming for. We hope that the people around us will be on our side when it matters the most. We don't have control over everything in life, but we do have control over how we look at the world. I am one who hopes.
It is with that in mind that I set a substantial fundraising goal and pledged to cut off my 3-foot-long hair for cancer patients. Yes, I have been working hard, but I also have hope. I hope that the people who hear about my goal (or others like mine) pay a moment of attention to an amazing cause. I hope that somewhere someone in need of a wig is as excited as I am about what I'm doing. And most importantly, I hope that others will see what can be accomplished when we put our minds to something!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Sharing a Smile
There’s nothing funny about cancer, but there are stories that can make people smile. They may be the proverbial needle in a haystack, but they exist and sometimes they can even inspire.
One of those stories is the Irving Greenberg Cancer Centre at the Queensway-Carleton Hospital. The four-storey, 85,000-sq.-ft. facility is already a world-class treatment centre offering shorter wait times for all procedures, including chemotherapy, radiation and surgery.
The centre is part of an expansion of the Ottawa Hospital Regional Cancer Program, and it’s estimated it will help 1,300 more cancer patients each year.
That’s worth a smile.
Dr. Adam Mamelak, a Queen's graduate who went on to study dermatology at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, was recruited last year to set up a clinic for the most common forms of skin cancer.
Thanks to a procedure called Moh’s surgery, 99% of patients will survive and will barely show a scar because dermatologists remove a portion of the tumour and examine the specimen while the patient waits. Thanks to an onsite teaching laboratory, dermatologists are able to continue working on the wound in small stages until all traces of the tumour are gone.
When the clinic officially opened in June 2009, there were 14 doctors in Canada and only two in Ontario who were trained to do the procedure.
That’s worth a smile. At least it was to the first patient who walked away healthier and unblemished and, I’ll venture, to countless more.
Then there’s my friend Madeline. I met her when I worked in Montreal for a community weekly newspaper. She had instituted a charitable foundation to help children of war-torn countries and I was given the assignment to have her tell me all about it for the paper.
Madeline wasn’t well when I first met her. She had Stage-5 cancer and had been given months, if not less, to live. She had to stop now and then to take a deep, tired breath, for which she apologized each time. Even feeling as awful as that, she was the picture and model of decorum. We sat in her atrium that showed off a gorgeous and full garden in her back yard (she wouldn’t let me leave without vegetables and herbs she harvested herself).
We hit it off, though I was immensely sad that our new friendship would be so brief. I guess that in the grand scheme of things our friendship was indeed brief, but it turned out to be longer and deeper than either of us could have hoped.
At one point, Madeline’s cancer seemed to be in remission. The last time I saw her she was lively and hopeful that her work was making a difference. She was given an award at her alma mater McGill University and I convinced my editor that it would make for another good story. So I tagged along and watched her work the room with such panache that I was humbled to be her friend. Some of the biggest wheels in the country were there, but she treated me as well or better than she did them. She made the coal feel comfortable among the diamonds.
I moved to Ottawa a short time later and while we stayed in touch we slowly travelled our own paths and drifted apart, as will happen.
One day, I found an email from Madeline on my computer. Or at least I thought it was sent by her. But it was her mom to tell me Madeline had passed away shortly before Christmas, some five years after they gave her months, if not less.
Her mom asked for my address, saying she had something to mail to me.
It was a New Year’s card from Madeline she had meant to send. The inscription was warm and personal, as though the few years apart had changed nothing.
I’m sad she’s gone, but immensely happy I was allowed to call her my friend for years longer than either of us expected.
And that, I think, is worth a smile too.
One of those stories is the Irving Greenberg Cancer Centre at the Queensway-Carleton Hospital. The four-storey, 85,000-sq.-ft. facility is already a world-class treatment centre offering shorter wait times for all procedures, including chemotherapy, radiation and surgery.
The centre is part of an expansion of the Ottawa Hospital Regional Cancer Program, and it’s estimated it will help 1,300 more cancer patients each year.
That’s worth a smile.
Dr. Adam Mamelak, a Queen's graduate who went on to study dermatology at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, was recruited last year to set up a clinic for the most common forms of skin cancer.
Thanks to a procedure called Moh’s surgery, 99% of patients will survive and will barely show a scar because dermatologists remove a portion of the tumour and examine the specimen while the patient waits. Thanks to an onsite teaching laboratory, dermatologists are able to continue working on the wound in small stages until all traces of the tumour are gone.
When the clinic officially opened in June 2009, there were 14 doctors in Canada and only two in Ontario who were trained to do the procedure.
That’s worth a smile. At least it was to the first patient who walked away healthier and unblemished and, I’ll venture, to countless more.
Then there’s my friend Madeline. I met her when I worked in Montreal for a community weekly newspaper. She had instituted a charitable foundation to help children of war-torn countries and I was given the assignment to have her tell me all about it for the paper.
Madeline wasn’t well when I first met her. She had Stage-5 cancer and had been given months, if not less, to live. She had to stop now and then to take a deep, tired breath, for which she apologized each time. Even feeling as awful as that, she was the picture and model of decorum. We sat in her atrium that showed off a gorgeous and full garden in her back yard (she wouldn’t let me leave without vegetables and herbs she harvested herself).
We hit it off, though I was immensely sad that our new friendship would be so brief. I guess that in the grand scheme of things our friendship was indeed brief, but it turned out to be longer and deeper than either of us could have hoped.
At one point, Madeline’s cancer seemed to be in remission. The last time I saw her she was lively and hopeful that her work was making a difference. She was given an award at her alma mater McGill University and I convinced my editor that it would make for another good story. So I tagged along and watched her work the room with such panache that I was humbled to be her friend. Some of the biggest wheels in the country were there, but she treated me as well or better than she did them. She made the coal feel comfortable among the diamonds.
I moved to Ottawa a short time later and while we stayed in touch we slowly travelled our own paths and drifted apart, as will happen.
One day, I found an email from Madeline on my computer. Or at least I thought it was sent by her. But it was her mom to tell me Madeline had passed away shortly before Christmas, some five years after they gave her months, if not less.
Her mom asked for my address, saying she had something to mail to me.
It was a New Year’s card from Madeline she had meant to send. The inscription was warm and personal, as though the few years apart had changed nothing.
I’m sad she’s gone, but immensely happy I was allowed to call her my friend for years longer than either of us expected.
And that, I think, is worth a smile too.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Walking A Mile in Her Shoes
I wrote about four sisters - their names won't be used because I haven't asked their permission to write about them again - who had every right to throw up their hands in surrender. Between them, they were diagnosed seven times with cancer. Breast (numerous), ovarian, melanoma, I can't even remember who had what because it was almost too much to take in. I'm sure as I interviewed them my jaw fell more than once.
One of them was walking in the Weekend to End Women's Cancers. Just one because one sister's schedule wouldn't allow it, one had just undergone surgery and one was about to go in.
I met three of them the day before the walk at a house on the outskirts of the city, in a lush back yard, where we sat and they told me their stories. One sister didn't join us because she had received her diagnosis just a day or two earlier and simply wasn't up to talking to a stranger about it. Especially when that stranger would tell tens of thousands of other strangers about her private hell. But the other three were unstoppable.
They were open and honest, funny and serious, but more than anything they were natural. They didn't sugarcoat what they were going through, but neither did they ask for pity either. Had it been offered, I know they wouldn't have accepted it. They all had reason to feel sorry for themselves, but this was the hand they had been dealt and, damn it, they were going to play it for all it was worth. I took a few pictures of them in this beautiful yard on a warm summer evening, arms around each other, one laughing so hard her eyes were squeezed shut. It wasn't technically the best of the photos I took, but it was the one we chose to use.
I called one of them a short while ago to see how they were. It had been months and, to be honest, I was afraid of what I'd be told.
My fears were unfounded.
Yes, they are all alive, but that's not all. One was currently cancer-free, the others recovering well. They know too well that anything can still happen, but why does that have to mean that anything bad can still happen? Maybe, sometimes it can mean anything wonderful and magical and - not long ago - unthinkable can still happen?
Cancer went after four of them attacking from all sides, but it hasn't won. As of this day, it's being fought with ferocious spirits and love for life that has it retreating. As of this day, there IS a day for four sisters who won't give up.
One of them was walking in the Weekend to End Women's Cancers. Just one because one sister's schedule wouldn't allow it, one had just undergone surgery and one was about to go in.
I met three of them the day before the walk at a house on the outskirts of the city, in a lush back yard, where we sat and they told me their stories. One sister didn't join us because she had received her diagnosis just a day or two earlier and simply wasn't up to talking to a stranger about it. Especially when that stranger would tell tens of thousands of other strangers about her private hell. But the other three were unstoppable.
They were open and honest, funny and serious, but more than anything they were natural. They didn't sugarcoat what they were going through, but neither did they ask for pity either. Had it been offered, I know they wouldn't have accepted it. They all had reason to feel sorry for themselves, but this was the hand they had been dealt and, damn it, they were going to play it for all it was worth. I took a few pictures of them in this beautiful yard on a warm summer evening, arms around each other, one laughing so hard her eyes were squeezed shut. It wasn't technically the best of the photos I took, but it was the one we chose to use.
I called one of them a short while ago to see how they were. It had been months and, to be honest, I was afraid of what I'd be told.
My fears were unfounded.
Yes, they are all alive, but that's not all. One was currently cancer-free, the others recovering well. They know too well that anything can still happen, but why does that have to mean that anything bad can still happen? Maybe, sometimes it can mean anything wonderful and magical and - not long ago - unthinkable can still happen?
Cancer went after four of them attacking from all sides, but it hasn't won. As of this day, it's being fought with ferocious spirits and love for life that has it retreating. As of this day, there IS a day for four sisters who won't give up.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Fearing the Unknown
I’ve never had cancer, but I know firsthand the fear of thinking I might. A few years ago I was at work when my doctor’s receptionist called me to ask if I could go in to see the doctor. I had been coughing on and off for a couple of weeks and had already gone for a chest x-ray to what was what. I figured it was bronchitis or maybe even pneumonia, as I’d had both a few times before.
So I said, sure, I’ll try to get in to see him in the next few days.
No, she replied, he wants to see you right now.
Now?
Right now.
So this heightens the heart rate, let me tell you. My wife then called asking if the doctor had been able to reach me. They’d also called her at work. She sounded nervous, too, and said she’d meet me there.
That was not a good sign either, I thought. She works at the heart institute and sees all forms of scary things on a daily basis, so her sounding concerned was not a good sign.
I asked if they had told her anything. No, she said, just that they want to see me today.
My doctor works in a walk-in clinic, which means I usually have a wait of an hour or so to see him. Not that day. I arrived and they led me to an examination room. Again, right away.
I have to admit I was just a few degrees south of terrified by then.
"This is probably nothing,” the doc said, which made it all the worse because that meant it at least could be something, too. “There’s a spot in the x-ray we want to take a look at.”
A spot? What spot? Where?!
He showed me. It was on a lung and it was impossible to ignore.
My blood felt ice cold, but he did his best to keep me grounded.
Inside of half an hour, I had walked into the clinic without a real care in the world, all things considered, and walked out with the name and number of an oncologist. It felt like a dream, a very bad one, but it didn’t feel real. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I had even quit smoking a few years earlier!
I don’t clearly remember setting up the appointment because, as I said, it had all begun to feel like an out-of-body experience, as though I were watching myself go home, call the oncologist, and make the appointment.
Because of the lump’s difficult location, a biopsy was ruled out, so I had a CT scan done.
In the end, no one was really sure of what was - and still is - there, but they did manage to rule out cancer. And I was fortunate enough to experience for myself the incredibly devoted, professional and kind health care workers we have in this city.
Yes, it was terrifying, but I always felt that if the worst was going to happen that at least these tremendous people would give me a fighting chance.
So I said, sure, I’ll try to get in to see him in the next few days.
No, she replied, he wants to see you right now.
Now?
Right now.
So this heightens the heart rate, let me tell you. My wife then called asking if the doctor had been able to reach me. They’d also called her at work. She sounded nervous, too, and said she’d meet me there.
That was not a good sign either, I thought. She works at the heart institute and sees all forms of scary things on a daily basis, so her sounding concerned was not a good sign.
I asked if they had told her anything. No, she said, just that they want to see me today.
My doctor works in a walk-in clinic, which means I usually have a wait of an hour or so to see him. Not that day. I arrived and they led me to an examination room. Again, right away.
I have to admit I was just a few degrees south of terrified by then.
"This is probably nothing,” the doc said, which made it all the worse because that meant it at least could be something, too. “There’s a spot in the x-ray we want to take a look at.”
A spot? What spot? Where?!
He showed me. It was on a lung and it was impossible to ignore.
My blood felt ice cold, but he did his best to keep me grounded.
Inside of half an hour, I had walked into the clinic without a real care in the world, all things considered, and walked out with the name and number of an oncologist. It felt like a dream, a very bad one, but it didn’t feel real. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I had even quit smoking a few years earlier!
I don’t clearly remember setting up the appointment because, as I said, it had all begun to feel like an out-of-body experience, as though I were watching myself go home, call the oncologist, and make the appointment.
Because of the lump’s difficult location, a biopsy was ruled out, so I had a CT scan done.
In the end, no one was really sure of what was - and still is - there, but they did manage to rule out cancer. And I was fortunate enough to experience for myself the incredibly devoted, professional and kind health care workers we have in this city.
Yes, it was terrifying, but I always felt that if the worst was going to happen that at least these tremendous people would give me a fighting chance.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Personalized Care
Cancer is a serious chronic disease. Patients with cancer that opt for naturopathic medicine in conjunction with conventional medical treatments see further improvements in their health. The main reason patients with cancer come to see me at Family Naturopathic Clinic is for immune support. I provide treatments that are natural, holistic, and personalized. I will elaborate on the main natural treatments that I use in clinical practice to prevent cancer, as well as treat cancer. Some of these treatments may be new to you – even though many have been around for hundreds of years.
1) Clinical Nutrition: Are you frequently grabbing a bite to eat at a fast food restaurant or preparing home-cooked meals instead? Are you eating a variety of fruit and vegetables? Your daily food choices have a significant impact on your overall health. Quite simply, food is medicine. As a result, I make very specific dietary recommendations to promote health. I also test patients for food sensitivities. A food sensitivity or intolerance is different from a food allergy. A food allergy to a peanut can cause an anaphylactic reaction, whereas food sensitivities are more subtle and can cause numerous symptoms. In my experience, determining a patient’s food sensitivities can be a life-altering experience. Many health conditions can be effectively treated using foods and nutritional supplements, including cancer.
2) Lifestyle Management: Your lifestyle choices can either promote health or disease. Are you burning the candle at both ends? Are you anxious most of the time? Do you get an adequate amount of sunshine, exercise, and sleep? Are you exposed to environmental hazards at the workplace or at home? Patients with cancer can experience a tremendous amount of stress for years before being diagnosed with cancer, and throughout treatment. Learning various methods to manage stress is an important part of overall treatment.
3) Herbal Medicine: Plant medicines can address a variety of health problems simultaneously and because of the organic nature of botanical medicines, they are compatible with the body’s own chemistry.
4) Homeopathy: Dr. Samuel Hahnemann, a German medical doctor invented homeopathy over two hundred years ago. Homeopathic medicines involve using dilutions of natural substance to treat the body, and are commonly used worldwide today.
To learn more about Family Naturopathic Clinic, please visit www.familynaturopathic.com or call 613 230 6100.
1) Clinical Nutrition: Are you frequently grabbing a bite to eat at a fast food restaurant or preparing home-cooked meals instead? Are you eating a variety of fruit and vegetables? Your daily food choices have a significant impact on your overall health. Quite simply, food is medicine. As a result, I make very specific dietary recommendations to promote health. I also test patients for food sensitivities. A food sensitivity or intolerance is different from a food allergy. A food allergy to a peanut can cause an anaphylactic reaction, whereas food sensitivities are more subtle and can cause numerous symptoms. In my experience, determining a patient’s food sensitivities can be a life-altering experience. Many health conditions can be effectively treated using foods and nutritional supplements, including cancer.
2) Lifestyle Management: Your lifestyle choices can either promote health or disease. Are you burning the candle at both ends? Are you anxious most of the time? Do you get an adequate amount of sunshine, exercise, and sleep? Are you exposed to environmental hazards at the workplace or at home? Patients with cancer can experience a tremendous amount of stress for years before being diagnosed with cancer, and throughout treatment. Learning various methods to manage stress is an important part of overall treatment.
3) Herbal Medicine: Plant medicines can address a variety of health problems simultaneously and because of the organic nature of botanical medicines, they are compatible with the body’s own chemistry.
4) Homeopathy: Dr. Samuel Hahnemann, a German medical doctor invented homeopathy over two hundred years ago. Homeopathic medicines involve using dilutions of natural substance to treat the body, and are commonly used worldwide today.
To learn more about Family Naturopathic Clinic, please visit www.familynaturopathic.com or call 613 230 6100.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The Guiding Principles of Naturopathic Medicine
In my last blog, I explained that conventional medicine and naturopathic medicine can both be helpful in the prevention and treatment of chronic diseases, such as cancer. Naturopathic doctors (NDs) have a long history of helping Canadians. In Ontario, naturopathic doctors have been licensed to practice since 1925, under the Drugless Practitioners Act. In the past several years, there have been over 1 million patient visits to see naturopathic doctors in this province. Today I will elaborate on the six guiding principles of naturopathic medicine.
1) First Do No Harm: The primary goal of a naturopathic doctor is to diagnose, prevent, and treat health conditions using safe, effective natural medicines. To that end, the most natural, non-toxic, and least invasive treatments are used.
2) Identify and Treat the Cause: As a naturopathic doctor, I treat the underlying cause of disease. Although symptom management is essential in acute conditions, (and can be treated in many cases with naturopathic medicine) it is important to recognize that symptoms are signals that the body is out of balance. The cause of the various imbalances can stem from a patient’s lifestyle, dietary habits, even their emotional state.
3) Treat the Whole Person: A holistic approach to healing is more effective than treating a single body system, as the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Health and disease are a result of a complex interaction of physical, mental, emotional, genetic, environmental, and spiritual factors impacting our bodies. I take these factors into consideration each and every time I provide a holistic, personalized, and comprehensive treatment.
4) The Healing Power of Nature – Our bodies have an inherent ability to heal. We see this in action every time our blood clots after a simple cut, a bone heals following a fracture, and our immune system responds to a simple pathogen. My role is to facilitate this process.
5) Prevention. The ultimate goal of naturopathic medicine is to prevent disease in the first place. I assess risk factors and hereditary susceptibilities and make appropriate recommendations in order to remove obstacles to health as we strive to achieve wellness.
6) Doctor as Teacher. The original meaning of the word doctor in Latin (docere) means teacher. I educate my patients in order that they can achieve optimal health. It is gratifying to see that my patients incorporate the knowledge learned, and see positive changes in their health.
In my next blog, I will elaborate on the various natural treatments I use in clinical practice.
1) First Do No Harm: The primary goal of a naturopathic doctor is to diagnose, prevent, and treat health conditions using safe, effective natural medicines. To that end, the most natural, non-toxic, and least invasive treatments are used.
2) Identify and Treat the Cause: As a naturopathic doctor, I treat the underlying cause of disease. Although symptom management is essential in acute conditions, (and can be treated in many cases with naturopathic medicine) it is important to recognize that symptoms are signals that the body is out of balance. The cause of the various imbalances can stem from a patient’s lifestyle, dietary habits, even their emotional state.
3) Treat the Whole Person: A holistic approach to healing is more effective than treating a single body system, as the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Health and disease are a result of a complex interaction of physical, mental, emotional, genetic, environmental, and spiritual factors impacting our bodies. I take these factors into consideration each and every time I provide a holistic, personalized, and comprehensive treatment.
4) The Healing Power of Nature – Our bodies have an inherent ability to heal. We see this in action every time our blood clots after a simple cut, a bone heals following a fracture, and our immune system responds to a simple pathogen. My role is to facilitate this process.
5) Prevention. The ultimate goal of naturopathic medicine is to prevent disease in the first place. I assess risk factors and hereditary susceptibilities and make appropriate recommendations in order to remove obstacles to health as we strive to achieve wellness.
6) Doctor as Teacher. The original meaning of the word doctor in Latin (docere) means teacher. I educate my patients in order that they can achieve optimal health. It is gratifying to see that my patients incorporate the knowledge learned, and see positive changes in their health.
In my next blog, I will elaborate on the various natural treatments I use in clinical practice.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Becoming A Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine
When a person is diagnosed with cancer, they and their loved ones seek the best possible care. Surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation are common conventional cancer treatments these days. Are there other viable options that can help? As experts in treating health conditions naturally and holistically including cancer, naturopathic doctors can also help.
To better understand what is required to become a naturopathic doctor, I would like to first explain the necessary educational requirements. Following an undergraduate degree, the Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine degree is an intensive four year program and prepares the candidate for board licensing examinations and the practice of naturopathic medicine. The first two years of study focus on an intensive study of the human being, integrating basic medical sciences such as anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, histology, immunology, as well as the clinical sciences, such as clinical and physical diagnosis, laboratory diagnosis, and microbiology. The third and fourth years focus on naturopathic therapies and clinical training, which involve problem solving and case analysis, as well as seeing patients in various clinics, and spending time with licensed naturopathic doctors, medical doctors, and other health care professionals in private practice and hospital settings.
At Family Naturopathic Clinic, I work with people who want to take an active role in their health. Patients may have a family history of cancer and want to prevent cancer, or are actively going through treatments and wish to reduce side effects and modulate their body’s immune system. Others have completed conventional treatments and want to ensure they don’t get a recurrence. My experience working with patients with cancer has been a positive one. Patients can see improvements on many levels – ranging from increased energy and less stress, to a more positive outlook and a better quality of life.
My clinical experience, and those of my naturopathic colleagues, has demonstrated that patients that undergo both conventional and naturopathic treatments do better overall. I spend a significant amount of time with my patients in order to understand them better, which I believe ameliorates these positive outcomes.
My next two blogs will review the principles of naturopathic medicine and the core naturopathic therapies that I use in clinical practice.
To better understand what is required to become a naturopathic doctor, I would like to first explain the necessary educational requirements. Following an undergraduate degree, the Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine degree is an intensive four year program and prepares the candidate for board licensing examinations and the practice of naturopathic medicine. The first two years of study focus on an intensive study of the human being, integrating basic medical sciences such as anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, histology, immunology, as well as the clinical sciences, such as clinical and physical diagnosis, laboratory diagnosis, and microbiology. The third and fourth years focus on naturopathic therapies and clinical training, which involve problem solving and case analysis, as well as seeing patients in various clinics, and spending time with licensed naturopathic doctors, medical doctors, and other health care professionals in private practice and hospital settings.
At Family Naturopathic Clinic, I work with people who want to take an active role in their health. Patients may have a family history of cancer and want to prevent cancer, or are actively going through treatments and wish to reduce side effects and modulate their body’s immune system. Others have completed conventional treatments and want to ensure they don’t get a recurrence. My experience working with patients with cancer has been a positive one. Patients can see improvements on many levels – ranging from increased energy and less stress, to a more positive outlook and a better quality of life.
My clinical experience, and those of my naturopathic colleagues, has demonstrated that patients that undergo both conventional and naturopathic treatments do better overall. I spend a significant amount of time with my patients in order to understand them better, which I believe ameliorates these positive outcomes.
My next two blogs will review the principles of naturopathic medicine and the core naturopathic therapies that I use in clinical practice.
Monday, October 25, 2010
The dawn of a new era
There is a lot of activity at the corner of Alta Vista, Industrial and Riverside and it doesn't have anything to do with traffic.
There is a new building going up ... and it will be a home-away-from-home for the thousands of cancer patients and their families in our community.
Each time I drive by the construction site I am reminded of the impact we are having in this community. With the MAPLESOFT Centre we are going to be filling a gap for cancer patients - by offering them one place where they can go to get the support they need and deserve while they are facing the disease. I am proud to tell you that we have already begun to pilot a number of programs that will be offered at the house once we open the doors in Fall 2011, and we'll continue to expand the list each month. I encourage you to read about the FREE programs we are offereing, and register for them. All the information can be found online at www.ottawacancer.ca/registration.aspx.
The MAPLESOFT Centre is a great source of pride for all of us at the Cancer Foundation - and in honour of that I wanted to share with you some pictures from the construction site. (photos: Courtesy Valberg Imaging)
September 7, 2010
Mayor O'Brien signing the official paperwork for the MAPLESOFT Centre build
MAPLESOFT Group President & CEO Jody Campeau, along with Cancer Foundation President & CEO Linda Eagen and Mayou O'Brien.
Construction photos taken September 13, 2010
There is a new building going up ... and it will be a home-away-from-home for the thousands of cancer patients and their families in our community.
Each time I drive by the construction site I am reminded of the impact we are having in this community. With the MAPLESOFT Centre we are going to be filling a gap for cancer patients - by offering them one place where they can go to get the support they need and deserve while they are facing the disease. I am proud to tell you that we have already begun to pilot a number of programs that will be offered at the house once we open the doors in Fall 2011, and we'll continue to expand the list each month. I encourage you to read about the FREE programs we are offereing, and register for them. All the information can be found online at www.ottawacancer.ca/registration.aspx.
The MAPLESOFT Centre is a great source of pride for all of us at the Cancer Foundation - and in honour of that I wanted to share with you some pictures from the construction site. (photos: Courtesy Valberg Imaging)
September 7, 2010
Mayor O'Brien signing the official paperwork for the MAPLESOFT Centre build
Friday, October 15, 2010
Living
The longer I live, and it’s been seventy-seven years already, the stronger my personal conviction becomes that a human being’s basic nature does not change much. Nature and nurture play huge roles. Early childhood experience particularly shapes our perspective. Choices make all the difference.
We make choices constantly on any given day, without thinking about the fact that we are choosing. I just chose to cross my legs. It doesn’t matter why. I merely use it as one small example in a multiple-choice day. By God-given choice we pick a course, select direction, stick with or choose to veer from it. Sometimes our choices are extremely limited, seem almost non-existent, yet the truth is that deep down we do choose how to react, how to act, how to follow this newly-charted, unselected path. Character ploddingly grows through adversity, blissfully gambols through the rest.
My parents, an electrical engineer and a public health nurse, provided my genetic code. My early world was populated by caring/sharing siblings. What a fortunate child I was, and still am, and know it. Appreciation fills my days. Not everyone is half so lucky.
If gaps or holes exist in our basic structure, we are threatened. Of course we are scared. Of course we are ill prepared. May we know who we are in order to build on our strengths. A team of psychological and scientific experts are dedicated to assist us. We should all be truly thankful. Honest, unconditional appreciation, the kind that resonates within one’s soul, enables the healing process.
I do hope you have found some word this week that has worked for you.
Editors Note: Nancy has added this entry to her blog - and wanted to share it with her readers.
As many of you know, my older brother Bruce died last week. The last meaningful visit he and I had via Skype was about this final blog. He was always my wise mentor, and more often than not over the years I ran my writings by him for approval. This blog was no exception. He did have one editorial correction to make. I referred to an electrical engineer and a public health nurse having provided my genetic code. He said: an electrical engineer and a public health nurse did not provide your genetic code. Your parents did. Thus you will read that my parents, an electrical engineer and a public health nurse, provided my genetic code. Otherwise, he approved the blog.
"Living" is dedicated to the memory of Bruce Henderson Buchanan M.D., D.Psych
We make choices constantly on any given day, without thinking about the fact that we are choosing. I just chose to cross my legs. It doesn’t matter why. I merely use it as one small example in a multiple-choice day. By God-given choice we pick a course, select direction, stick with or choose to veer from it. Sometimes our choices are extremely limited, seem almost non-existent, yet the truth is that deep down we do choose how to react, how to act, how to follow this newly-charted, unselected path. Character ploddingly grows through adversity, blissfully gambols through the rest.
My parents, an electrical engineer and a public health nurse, provided my genetic code. My early world was populated by caring/sharing siblings. What a fortunate child I was, and still am, and know it. Appreciation fills my days. Not everyone is half so lucky.
If gaps or holes exist in our basic structure, we are threatened. Of course we are scared. Of course we are ill prepared. May we know who we are in order to build on our strengths. A team of psychological and scientific experts are dedicated to assist us. We should all be truly thankful. Honest, unconditional appreciation, the kind that resonates within one’s soul, enables the healing process.
I do hope you have found some word this week that has worked for you.
Editors Note: Nancy has added this entry to her blog - and wanted to share it with her readers.
As many of you know, my older brother Bruce died last week. The last meaningful visit he and I had via Skype was about this final blog. He was always my wise mentor, and more often than not over the years I ran my writings by him for approval. This blog was no exception. He did have one editorial correction to make. I referred to an electrical engineer and a public health nurse having provided my genetic code. He said: an electrical engineer and a public health nurse did not provide your genetic code. Your parents did. Thus you will read that my parents, an electrical engineer and a public health nurse, provided my genetic code. Otherwise, he approved the blog.
"Living" is dedicated to the memory of Bruce Henderson Buchanan M.D., D.Psych
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Look
I have not really played with fashion since I was a child playing dress-up. I have been one of those women shoppers who seek, find and leave. Since the loss of my hair, fashion has become a fun thing for me again. What look shall I achieve today? Will it be Johnny Depp, pirate of the Caribbean, with bandana and loop ear-rings, or will it be some entirely new look for me?
Sixty years ago, when I was a seventeen-year-old Toronto schoolgirl, I was selected to be the representative for Humberside Collegiate on Eaton’s Junior Council. At that time Eaton’s had in place a highly effective marketing tool in the form of this Junior Council. Every Saturday morning during the school year kids from each high school in the city, a boys’ group and a girls’ group, congregated in Eaton’s downtown business offices for meetings. We were paid ten dollars to attend each meeting, were provided personally-fitted, Council-crest-emblazoned navy blazers, which we wore with pride. Under the guidance of an expert communications facilitator we shared ideas on subjects introduced, provided feedback to Eaton’s from our particular perspectives. We also participated in the Santa Claus Parade, among other activities. I tell you all this because of one such participation.
We Junior Council members acted as models in a fashion show during afternoon tea in the seventh floor Round Room Restaurant of Eaton’s College Street store.
During an intermission in the runway presentation, a film of hats was displayed. Five of us girls at a time were filmed seated at a curved soda fountain, heads forward but down, each in a beautiful hat, sipping sodas from straws. As the camera panned the group, we were instructed to one at a time raise our head, smile at the camera, move our head slowly from one side to the other and back again before lowering our gaze to our soda once again, all the better for the viewer to see the particular hat each of us wore to its full advantage. Sound easy? Yes.
The first good belly laugh I ever remember having at myself was after we had viewed the film. The other girls were poised and gracious in their actions. Me? My face appeared from beneath the brim of the hat looking like the stage-frightened mouse that I was. A quick grimace came and went with remarkable rapidity before stony countenance turned left to right to left, grimaced once more and disappeared beneath the brim.
A twenty-three year old blogger on this cancer blogspot earlier wrote that she had learned not to compare herself or her situation to others. She expressed truth. I did not laugh aloud when with the other girls watching the film, but I certainly did after getting off the street car and walking on the Toronto sidewalk to my home. It was early evening by that time. I walked alone and laughed out loud. A couple going the opposite direction on the other side of the street looked at this strange girl as if she’d lost her mind. Of course, that made me laugh even harder.
My favourite look, would you believe, is bald. Bald is not my out-of-home look. It is my at-home look, but only when we have no visitors. My husband likes it, too, but mostly, I suspect, because it is most comfortable for me. I stroke my bald head and smile. He strokes my bald head and smiles too. The smile is not a laugh-at smile; it is an appreciative smile. The bald head states that I am in good care. That look is the outward symbol of the inner healing taking place. Why would it not make us smile? It is warm today, but when the cooler weather arrives I may very well prefer the Wee-Willie-Winkie look on a regular basis.
Yours truly,
Nancy
P.S. Web cam and I couldn’t resist a photo shoot … reminiscent of Eaton’s Round Room circa 1950 … although the face certainly has changed.
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Sixty years ago, when I was a seventeen-year-old Toronto schoolgirl, I was selected to be the representative for Humberside Collegiate on Eaton’s Junior Council. At that time Eaton’s had in place a highly effective marketing tool in the form of this Junior Council. Every Saturday morning during the school year kids from each high school in the city, a boys’ group and a girls’ group, congregated in Eaton’s downtown business offices for meetings. We were paid ten dollars to attend each meeting, were provided personally-fitted, Council-crest-emblazoned navy blazers, which we wore with pride. Under the guidance of an expert communications facilitator we shared ideas on subjects introduced, provided feedback to Eaton’s from our particular perspectives. We also participated in the Santa Claus Parade, among other activities. I tell you all this because of one such participation.
We Junior Council members acted as models in a fashion show during afternoon tea in the seventh floor Round Room Restaurant of Eaton’s College Street store.
During an intermission in the runway presentation, a film of hats was displayed. Five of us girls at a time were filmed seated at a curved soda fountain, heads forward but down, each in a beautiful hat, sipping sodas from straws. As the camera panned the group, we were instructed to one at a time raise our head, smile at the camera, move our head slowly from one side to the other and back again before lowering our gaze to our soda once again, all the better for the viewer to see the particular hat each of us wore to its full advantage. Sound easy? Yes.
The first good belly laugh I ever remember having at myself was after we had viewed the film. The other girls were poised and gracious in their actions. Me? My face appeared from beneath the brim of the hat looking like the stage-frightened mouse that I was. A quick grimace came and went with remarkable rapidity before stony countenance turned left to right to left, grimaced once more and disappeared beneath the brim.
A twenty-three year old blogger on this cancer blogspot earlier wrote that she had learned not to compare herself or her situation to others. She expressed truth. I did not laugh aloud when with the other girls watching the film, but I certainly did after getting off the street car and walking on the Toronto sidewalk to my home. It was early evening by that time. I walked alone and laughed out loud. A couple going the opposite direction on the other side of the street looked at this strange girl as if she’d lost her mind. Of course, that made me laugh even harder.
My favourite look, would you believe, is bald. Bald is not my out-of-home look. It is my at-home look, but only when we have no visitors. My husband likes it, too, but mostly, I suspect, because it is most comfortable for me. I stroke my bald head and smile. He strokes my bald head and smiles too. The smile is not a laugh-at smile; it is an appreciative smile. The bald head states that I am in good care. That look is the outward symbol of the inner healing taking place. Why would it not make us smile? It is warm today, but when the cooler weather arrives I may very well prefer the Wee-Willie-Winkie look on a regular basis.
Yours truly,
Nancy
P.S. Web cam and I couldn’t resist a photo shoot … reminiscent of Eaton’s Round Room circa 1950 … although the face certainly has changed.
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Thursday, September 30, 2010
Insomnia
8:41 a.m. Shall I do this? Why not?
Last night I took a sleeping pill about nine o’clock. Insomnia has bothered me several nights in a row, so I decided to break down and take 5MG of Zopiclone as needed. While waiting for it to take effect I proceeded with some regular anti-insomnia activities: made and drank a hot chocolate accompanied by two arrowroot biscuits; played a few hands of solitaire; left my bed companion husband asleep in prep for his early morning golf game; checked his snoring self as my by now languid self slid under the covers beside him.
Did it work for my insomnia? NO! Those restless legs started their ritualistic dance. Pillow armed, I crashed into all the furniture that managed to rush out to meet me between our bedroom and the living room couch, where pillow and I flopped in sunken softness, momentarily lulled into hoping we’d found the spot to sleep. No such dream. Those rubbery legs propelled us (pillow and me) to the den couch. Flop time again. No such luck. Those five legs and three arms managed to cope with the distance between couch and floor before scattering off in all directions, forcing me to try to catch them in order to store them in splintered wooden boxes with no lids. There they danced and cavorted on their own while pillow and I fled to the living room ottoman. Pillow landed first. I hugged her like a friend, better to take stock of the strange happenings around me. OZ this was not.
Get a pencil, the wee voice said. Write it down, the wee voice ordered. Tell the nurse, my mind echoed. Keep a record. Deserting pillow, I turned on a light to better grope for pad and pencil. Kitchen counter, under the temperature and medication charts. Got it. Back to the dining room table. The clock says 3:30 a.m. How can that be?
That medication to make me sleep certainly didn’t work. Zena stumbled barefoot, pillow crashing from room to room in the dark, screaming primeval for six hours looking for a place to light, or hibernate -- the bear rather than the butterfly analogy being the better choice here. No couch worked. No chair worked. No piece of floor, carpeted or otherwise worked. A job with a pencil calmed the mind, focussed me, allowed me to deal with the situation. A final, awkward, heave-ho of the den pull-out couch, straining all physical reserve to the max, definitely worked. I crashed in the best meaning of the term.
What’s this? Wide open eyes? Golfing husband departed and the clock is saying: time to talk to the pharmacist. Zopiclone has now been erased from my list of medications.
Ciao,
Nancy
Last night I took a sleeping pill about nine o’clock. Insomnia has bothered me several nights in a row, so I decided to break down and take 5MG of Zopiclone as needed. While waiting for it to take effect I proceeded with some regular anti-insomnia activities: made and drank a hot chocolate accompanied by two arrowroot biscuits; played a few hands of solitaire; left my bed companion husband asleep in prep for his early morning golf game; checked his snoring self as my by now languid self slid under the covers beside him.
Did it work for my insomnia? NO! Those restless legs started their ritualistic dance. Pillow armed, I crashed into all the furniture that managed to rush out to meet me between our bedroom and the living room couch, where pillow and I flopped in sunken softness, momentarily lulled into hoping we’d found the spot to sleep. No such dream. Those rubbery legs propelled us (pillow and me) to the den couch. Flop time again. No such luck. Those five legs and three arms managed to cope with the distance between couch and floor before scattering off in all directions, forcing me to try to catch them in order to store them in splintered wooden boxes with no lids. There they danced and cavorted on their own while pillow and I fled to the living room ottoman. Pillow landed first. I hugged her like a friend, better to take stock of the strange happenings around me. OZ this was not.
Get a pencil, the wee voice said. Write it down, the wee voice ordered. Tell the nurse, my mind echoed. Keep a record. Deserting pillow, I turned on a light to better grope for pad and pencil. Kitchen counter, under the temperature and medication charts. Got it. Back to the dining room table. The clock says 3:30 a.m. How can that be?
That medication to make me sleep certainly didn’t work. Zena stumbled barefoot, pillow crashing from room to room in the dark, screaming primeval for six hours looking for a place to light, or hibernate -- the bear rather than the butterfly analogy being the better choice here. No couch worked. No chair worked. No piece of floor, carpeted or otherwise worked. A job with a pencil calmed the mind, focussed me, allowed me to deal with the situation. A final, awkward, heave-ho of the den pull-out couch, straining all physical reserve to the max, definitely worked. I crashed in the best meaning of the term.
What’s this? Wide open eyes? Golfing husband departed and the clock is saying: time to talk to the pharmacist. Zopiclone has now been erased from my list of medications.
Ciao,
Nancy
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Blob Blog
During the forty-eight hours subsequent to my first chemo therapy treatment I was a blob, a barely functioning, boneless mass of heavily medicated reactive tissue. Keeping track of thirteen medications, with much needed help from my ever concerned husband and the chemo home care nurses became my one and only priority. That and retaining fluid in my system took precedence. From some unknown source, energy within emerged to enable me to create a medication chart on the computer, though the exercise took several brief sessions interspersed with lengthy blob times. All required tools of the healing trade were then at the ready.
A couple of days later when a modicum of energy made itself manifest, I tried to read. Reading has always been a reliable resource for my particular state of well being. Reading did not work. The old head on top of the blob could not hack it. Feelings of oppression ensued.
Never give up. There is always a solution. In my case, with rain pattering in sympathy on the windows, I actually sat myself on the piano bench. Now I am no pianist, but seventy years ago my disciplined father insisted that his four children all learn to play the piano. That early learning led my fingers. A few notes raised my spirits. A few more raised my caring husband’s spirits as well. Just like riding a bicycle, I was able to draw simply on a relatively thoughtless primary skill in order to raise the mood of the day. Art therapy at its best.
Find your inner strengths. You have them. Allow your soul to sing that gray song. The colours of the rainbow just may peep through.
Cheers,
Nancy
A couple of days later when a modicum of energy made itself manifest, I tried to read. Reading has always been a reliable resource for my particular state of well being. Reading did not work. The old head on top of the blob could not hack it. Feelings of oppression ensued.
Never give up. There is always a solution. In my case, with rain pattering in sympathy on the windows, I actually sat myself on the piano bench. Now I am no pianist, but seventy years ago my disciplined father insisted that his four children all learn to play the piano. That early learning led my fingers. A few notes raised my spirits. A few more raised my caring husband’s spirits as well. Just like riding a bicycle, I was able to draw simply on a relatively thoughtless primary skill in order to raise the mood of the day. Art therapy at its best.
Find your inner strengths. You have them. Allow your soul to sing that gray song. The colours of the rainbow just may peep through.
Cheers,
Nancy
Friday, September 24, 2010
Living With Cancer
My name is Nancy Freeman and I am living with cancer. I am a wife, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, former teacher and published children’s author. My perspective is not from a podium. Rather it is from a bench. I am the one in the middle of the bench, listening to what one of my very interesting cancer-survivor friends has to say.
My motto throughout this blogging experience will be: Sing what you know. Sing what is true. There isn’t much better this person can do.
I hope you may find a word that helps you on your own private journey.
I hope you may find a word that helps you on your own private journey.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The Cancer Survivors Park
The Survivor Park is in full bloom and is a joy to visit. This was the first opportunity for the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation to get into the real estate business and this was an important decision for us. Thanks to the tremendous leadership of Chuck Merovitz and a group of dedicated volunteers, bureaucratic mountains were moved and partnerships were shaped and a fateful decision by the Richard and Annette Bloch Foundation to support the endeavour meant that the Cancer Foundation took on a moving train and had to mobilize quickly to keep up. Here was an opportunity to plan and deliver something tangible that would alter the landscape of Ottawa – for the better in my humble opinion.
The Park is certainly big enough to find a spot for solitary reflection but there is magic in the opportunity to share stories and experiences with others who are or were in the same situation. This to me is the true power of the Survivors Park.
I have visited the Survivors Parks in Dallas and New Orleans and they too are part of the urban fabric. As one can appreciate, the New Orleans Park may have had its share of visitors who have had more than cancer on their minds and the facility itself has struggled along with the rest of the city. I visited it a year after Katrina and New Orleans was still reeling. My visit last year showed a city on the rebound – that Super Bowl win certainly helped with the spirits of the city. The site in Dallas is in the very heart of downtown and the impressive sculptures and impeccable landscaping truly stand out.
One of the challenges that we now face is to make the best use of the energy and power of the Survivors Park. Do you have any ideas?
The Park is certainly big enough to find a spot for solitary reflection but there is magic in the opportunity to share stories and experiences with others who are or were in the same situation. This to me is the true power of the Survivors Park.
I have visited the Survivors Parks in Dallas and New Orleans and they too are part of the urban fabric. As one can appreciate, the New Orleans Park may have had its share of visitors who have had more than cancer on their minds and the facility itself has struggled along with the rest of the city. I visited it a year after Katrina and New Orleans was still reeling. My visit last year showed a city on the rebound – that Super Bowl win certainly helped with the spirits of the city. The site in Dallas is in the very heart of downtown and the impressive sculptures and impeccable landscaping truly stand out.
One of the challenges that we now face is to make the best use of the energy and power of the Survivors Park. Do you have any ideas?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
New Hope on the Horizon
I can distinctly recall getting a clear sense that something was wrong with me at my doctor’s office on Bank Street. A testicular cancer diagnosis is arguably among the easier ones to identify. Testicles don’t generally get really large really fast. In fact, I think as a young doctor that he may not have had to deal with such a diagnosis yet – he seemed as shocked as I was. He referred me to an urologist, Dr. DeJesus. They were the first of a tremendous group of doctors, nurses, staff and volunteers who successfully guided me through my cancer ordeal. Through this ordeal I learned impressive names for surgical procedures - radical left orchiectomy, retroperitoneal lymph node dissection, hydrocelectomy. Seriously, look them up. And I won’t try to recall the names of all my chemotherapy drugs.
When I was diagnosed I recall sitting on the front steps of the doctor’s office and going through a big mess of thoughts, fears and emotions. Thirteen years later and things changed a lot. What a difference it must be for those who can benefit from the energy that the Richard and Annette Bloch Cancer Survivors Park provides along with a venue for reflection. And right next door Wellspring Ottawa - MAPLESOFT Centre will add even more to this equation at the intersections of Alta Vista Dr., Industrial Ave., and Riverside Dr. Taken together, these facilities will quite simply change the way that people deal with a cancer diagnosis and navigate their own cancer ordeals. Indeed, taken together, these facilities will be world-class.
When I was diagnosed I recall sitting on the front steps of the doctor’s office and going through a big mess of thoughts, fears and emotions. Thirteen years later and things changed a lot. What a difference it must be for those who can benefit from the energy that the Richard and Annette Bloch Cancer Survivors Park provides along with a venue for reflection. And right next door Wellspring Ottawa - MAPLESOFT Centre will add even more to this equation at the intersections of Alta Vista Dr., Industrial Ave., and Riverside Dr. Taken together, these facilities will quite simply change the way that people deal with a cancer diagnosis and navigate their own cancer ordeals. Indeed, taken together, these facilities will be world-class.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Cancer Journey
Megan’s life lessons and insights from her memoir from last week’s Guest Blog will be a tough act to follow. Of course I had to battle a bout of procrastination even to get to this point. I am typing on the front porch while my daughter Hilary tests out 3D chalk on the laneway with Mom. Yes, they have 3D chalk and it has the necessary and magical glasses… and it works!!
So why am I a guest blogger? And why should you care let alone read the blog? I don’t necessarily plan to answer those questions but they did come to mind. I hope you enjoy and reflect upon my words.
I was diagnosed with testicular cancer in 1997. I was thirty years old and by all accounts very healthy and there wasn’t a history of cancer in my family. So I was both very shocked and very scared.
As a patient of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Centre, I learned that my cancer was malignant, I learned that I would require several major surgeries and I learned that I would require several rounds of chemotherapy. All of these were painful lessons. Of course it would have been much more painful to ignore the signs that something was very wrong with me.
As I delved into whatever I could learn about cancer one of the things I learned was that I was fortunate to live in Eastern Ontario due to the first rate care that was available supported by a strong charitable foundation which in turn is supported by people who make a difference. As a result, I was able to gain, very early on, confidence that I was in good hands so that my energies could focus on surviving rather than on a fear of cancer itself.
… and it worked. The passionate doctors, staff, and volunteers have sent me off into the world of those deemed “cancer-free”. I am now focusing my energies on helping increase cancer survivorship as a volunteer and a Vice-Chair of the Board of Directors of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation and I encourage you all to lend a hand, in some manner, to help lighten the load of increasing cancer survivorship in Eastern Ontario.
So why am I a guest blogger? And why should you care let alone read the blog? I don’t necessarily plan to answer those questions but they did come to mind. I hope you enjoy and reflect upon my words.
I was diagnosed with testicular cancer in 1997. I was thirty years old and by all accounts very healthy and there wasn’t a history of cancer in my family. So I was both very shocked and very scared.
As a patient of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Centre, I learned that my cancer was malignant, I learned that I would require several major surgeries and I learned that I would require several rounds of chemotherapy. All of these were painful lessons. Of course it would have been much more painful to ignore the signs that something was very wrong with me.
As I delved into whatever I could learn about cancer one of the things I learned was that I was fortunate to live in Eastern Ontario due to the first rate care that was available supported by a strong charitable foundation which in turn is supported by people who make a difference. As a result, I was able to gain, very early on, confidence that I was in good hands so that my energies could focus on surviving rather than on a fear of cancer itself.
… and it worked. The passionate doctors, staff, and volunteers have sent me off into the world of those deemed “cancer-free”. I am now focusing my energies on helping increase cancer survivorship as a volunteer and a Vice-Chair of the Board of Directors of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation and I encourage you all to lend a hand, in some manner, to help lighten the load of increasing cancer survivorship in Eastern Ontario.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Life Lesson #5: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
It’s such a cliché saying, but it’s true. For the most part, life’s complications mess you up a little, but everyone gets back on track. For my last guest blog entry, I want to share with you my thoughts and feelings of the exact moment I was diagnosed. What doesn’t kill you does make you stronger. I am living proof. I’m a stronger person than I was before – not just because of cancer. I’m a stronger person because all of the friends and family I had behind me helping me fight. I’m a stronger person because I had the will to carry on after receiving the worst news I could have imagined. We will all make it through our worst experiences in life. All you have to do is keep calm and carry on. I will leave you with an excerpt from my memoir, ‘Would You Like Your Cancer?’
* * *
…He looked at me, "Well Megan, I have some good news and I have some bad news, which would you like first?"
I thought to myself or a few seconds. Who gives the option of bad news or good news? I let out a short sigh, disappointed that there was any bad news at all. I had the selection of two options; with the outcome being I would hear both good and bad news no matter which ‘option’ I chose first.
I didn't know what to say, considering the bad news could have been something unimaginable and the good news; well, I expect the only good news anyone ever hears in a doctor's office is that they’re going to live. He took my silence as the go ahead for the bad news.
Time seemed to slow, almost to a complete stop. The air was very still. The noise coming from the air conditioning unit in the office seemed to fade away and the silence was so incredibly loud.
I was nauseous. I could vaguely hear voices through the walls and indistinct footsteps walking past the door. I kept thinking maybe he was confused and had my files mixed up with some other person's medical files. Perhaps he was in the wrong room. Perhaps there was another girl who was awaiting the results of her fine needle aspiration biopsy. I had no such luck.
"You have cancer."
I replayed his words over and over…and over. I looked straight ahead and saw nothing; the room was a blur of colour. I felt faint. It was the most dreamlike feeling. In that moment I was so aware of everything I was doing; it was as if I could only blink in slow motion. It was beyond surreal. My heart sank. I could hear my unsteady breathing. I could feel my chest as if it was rising a mile each time I took a breath. If the doctor continued to speak, I heard nothing. I was completely and utterly numb.
I felt my heart beat pound in my ears and I felt the blood drain from my face. The tears came and I could not stop them.
I looked intently at the faces of my parents. Both seemed to be in disbelief. I wish I could have known what they were both thinking at that very moment. I’m sure no parent ever wants to be told that their seventeen year old daughter has cancer.
I looked out the window into the brilliant sun. The clouds seemed to move at lightning speed, the earth turning unsteadily as my world shattered around me. My life came to a screeching halt.
I heard the doctor, but his words were so far away, “The good news is, you're going to live, you only have thyroid cancer."
Only. That’s a sharp statement if I ever heard one. If you only have five pieces of candy left, you still have candy. That was the point. I had thyroid cancer. I really had cancer.
I felt very alone.
My father looked out the window in trepidation.
My mother was crying.
I will never forget the moment I was diagnosed with cancer. It was one of the defining moments of my life.
* * *
…He looked at me, "Well Megan, I have some good news and I have some bad news, which would you like first?"
I thought to myself or a few seconds. Who gives the option of bad news or good news? I let out a short sigh, disappointed that there was any bad news at all. I had the selection of two options; with the outcome being I would hear both good and bad news no matter which ‘option’ I chose first.
I didn't know what to say, considering the bad news could have been something unimaginable and the good news; well, I expect the only good news anyone ever hears in a doctor's office is that they’re going to live. He took my silence as the go ahead for the bad news.
Time seemed to slow, almost to a complete stop. The air was very still. The noise coming from the air conditioning unit in the office seemed to fade away and the silence was so incredibly loud.
I was nauseous. I could vaguely hear voices through the walls and indistinct footsteps walking past the door. I kept thinking maybe he was confused and had my files mixed up with some other person's medical files. Perhaps he was in the wrong room. Perhaps there was another girl who was awaiting the results of her fine needle aspiration biopsy. I had no such luck.
"You have cancer."
I replayed his words over and over…and over. I looked straight ahead and saw nothing; the room was a blur of colour. I felt faint. It was the most dreamlike feeling. In that moment I was so aware of everything I was doing; it was as if I could only blink in slow motion. It was beyond surreal. My heart sank. I could hear my unsteady breathing. I could feel my chest as if it was rising a mile each time I took a breath. If the doctor continued to speak, I heard nothing. I was completely and utterly numb.
I felt my heart beat pound in my ears and I felt the blood drain from my face. The tears came and I could not stop them.
I looked intently at the faces of my parents. Both seemed to be in disbelief. I wish I could have known what they were both thinking at that very moment. I’m sure no parent ever wants to be told that their seventeen year old daughter has cancer.
I looked out the window into the brilliant sun. The clouds seemed to move at lightning speed, the earth turning unsteadily as my world shattered around me. My life came to a screeching halt.
I heard the doctor, but his words were so far away, “The good news is, you're going to live, you only have thyroid cancer."
Only. That’s a sharp statement if I ever heard one. If you only have five pieces of candy left, you still have candy. That was the point. I had thyroid cancer. I really had cancer.
I felt very alone.
My father looked out the window in trepidation.
My mother was crying.
I will never forget the moment I was diagnosed with cancer. It was one of the defining moments of my life.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Life Lesson #4: Things happen for a reason
I'm a firm believer that things happen for a reason. If I had not been diagnosed with cancer, I imagine that my life would be much different than it is now. I would not have met some of the people I now know, nor would I be where I am at this point in my life. There are many thoughts of "..what if?"
But to put things in perspective, something good has come out of something bad. I have had the opportunity to do things that I would have never had the chance to - all because of cancer. I was able to be interviewed by Tic at CKCU 93.1fm at Carleton University along with Linda Eagen, the CEO and President of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation. I will be writing an upcoming piece for Courage magazine and I will also have the opportunity to be featured in a commercial and ad campaign. I'm also wrapping up my first book - a memoir about my defeats and triumphs with cancer. I'm sure if cancer had never been a part of my life, there would be other things to write about, but as I said before, cancer touches everyone at some point in their lives.
There is certainly nothing glamorous about cancer and by no means am I using the fact that I am a cancer survivor to help me get ahead in any way. I am very proud to share my story as long as it means I am helping someone else cope a bit better, or maybe a young cancer victim can now relate to my story.
I am participating in the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation's Underwear Affair, presented by Mark's on September 11th and I am really looking forward to walking the 5K. Our community will come together and it will be a great time. Bring your family and friends, and if you haven't signed up already - go for it. You have nothing to lose, and everything to give. As a cancer survivor and a family member of those who are still fighting - it means as much to me as anyone else. Tomorrow will be my last blog entry for this week, and I really hope you enjoyed reading what I had to say. I would be glad to answer any questions you have for me, so please feel free to leave comments.
But to put things in perspective, something good has come out of something bad. I have had the opportunity to do things that I would have never had the chance to - all because of cancer. I was able to be interviewed by Tic at CKCU 93.1fm at Carleton University along with Linda Eagen, the CEO and President of the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation. I will be writing an upcoming piece for Courage magazine and I will also have the opportunity to be featured in a commercial and ad campaign. I'm also wrapping up my first book - a memoir about my defeats and triumphs with cancer. I'm sure if cancer had never been a part of my life, there would be other things to write about, but as I said before, cancer touches everyone at some point in their lives.
There is certainly nothing glamorous about cancer and by no means am I using the fact that I am a cancer survivor to help me get ahead in any way. I am very proud to share my story as long as it means I am helping someone else cope a bit better, or maybe a young cancer victim can now relate to my story.
I am participating in the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation's Underwear Affair, presented by Mark's on September 11th and I am really looking forward to walking the 5K. Our community will come together and it will be a great time. Bring your family and friends, and if you haven't signed up already - go for it. You have nothing to lose, and everything to give. As a cancer survivor and a family member of those who are still fighting - it means as much to me as anyone else. Tomorrow will be my last blog entry for this week, and I really hope you enjoyed reading what I had to say. I would be glad to answer any questions you have for me, so please feel free to leave comments.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Life Lesson #3: Be as health as you can be!
There is a fair amount of debate surrounding the causes of cancer. Some causes are said to be family history, poor diet, lack of physical activity, being overweight and certain hormones. Then, of course, we have the obvious – smoking and alcohol consumption which are major risk factors when evaluating causes of cancer.
It’s in every human beings best interest to try to eat right, exercise regularly and consume the right amount of nutrients on a daily basis. I’m no doctor, nor a nutritionist by any means, but we all learn at a young age what foods are the best for your body. You need to get the most fruits and vegetables possible and consume enough water throughout the day to keep you hydrated.
Canada’s Food Guide – which my mother had on our refrigerator when I was young, gives great guidelines that are easy to follow. Planning meals and packing your lunch the night before is the best way to incorporate all the food groups. Paper bag lunches aren’t just for kids anymore!
My best advice is to consume three balanced meals a day with healthy snacks like carrot sticks or a piece of fruit between meals. Breakfasts should include whole eggs or egg whites, a piece of fruit and water or a cup of juice or milk. Cereals that are high in sugar are definitely not good for you. They taste great as we all know, but they won’t leave you satisfied. Lunch should be large enough to keep you feeling full until dinner or to tide you over until you’re able to have a small healthy snack.
Dinners are so easy to include all the healthy foods you need to have a balanced diet. Try to include palm-size portions of chicken (poultry is a great source of protein)and brighten up your plate with some more veggies. Try to get at least one half hour of exercise daily. Whether you’re taking your dog to the park, gardening, having a late night swim or a quick jog after work, incorporating exercise can help maintain a healthy weight when combined with the right meal plans.
Stay away from smoking and alcohol. This is coming from someone who had parents that smoked throughout her childhood. And I can undoubtedly say, nobody likes to smell smoke or smell like smoke. There are plenty of websites and guides to help smokers quit. You’re only hurting yourself by smoking, and the secondhand smoke disturbs others around you. The Canadian Cancer Society has a long list of publications to prevent all different types of cancers and guides to help you quit smoking - for those you want to and even for those you don't.
When I was diagnosed with cancer there was no explanation, which made it more difficult for me to understand. Staying healthy and making the right life choices will keep you on the path to staying cancer-free. Instead of choosing that Big Mac; opt for the salad with your choice of light dressing. Rather than drinking a litre of juice, try water with ice, and keep juices packed with sugars to a measured cup of 250ml.
All I can hope for is for people to realize that their health is the direct result of their choices. If you make better choices, you’re bound to have a long and healthy life.
Health Canada’s website
http://www.hs-sc.gc.ca/
Get your own copy of Canada’s Food Guide
(Available in PDF format or you can order a hard copy)
http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/fn-an/food-guide-aliment/order-commander/index-eng.php
It’s in every human beings best interest to try to eat right, exercise regularly and consume the right amount of nutrients on a daily basis. I’m no doctor, nor a nutritionist by any means, but we all learn at a young age what foods are the best for your body. You need to get the most fruits and vegetables possible and consume enough water throughout the day to keep you hydrated.
Canada’s Food Guide – which my mother had on our refrigerator when I was young, gives great guidelines that are easy to follow. Planning meals and packing your lunch the night before is the best way to incorporate all the food groups. Paper bag lunches aren’t just for kids anymore!
My best advice is to consume three balanced meals a day with healthy snacks like carrot sticks or a piece of fruit between meals. Breakfasts should include whole eggs or egg whites, a piece of fruit and water or a cup of juice or milk. Cereals that are high in sugar are definitely not good for you. They taste great as we all know, but they won’t leave you satisfied. Lunch should be large enough to keep you feeling full until dinner or to tide you over until you’re able to have a small healthy snack.
Dinners are so easy to include all the healthy foods you need to have a balanced diet. Try to include palm-size portions of chicken (poultry is a great source of protein)and brighten up your plate with some more veggies. Try to get at least one half hour of exercise daily. Whether you’re taking your dog to the park, gardening, having a late night swim or a quick jog after work, incorporating exercise can help maintain a healthy weight when combined with the right meal plans.
Stay away from smoking and alcohol. This is coming from someone who had parents that smoked throughout her childhood. And I can undoubtedly say, nobody likes to smell smoke or smell like smoke. There are plenty of websites and guides to help smokers quit. You’re only hurting yourself by smoking, and the secondhand smoke disturbs others around you. The Canadian Cancer Society has a long list of publications to prevent all different types of cancers and guides to help you quit smoking - for those you want to and even for those you don't.
When I was diagnosed with cancer there was no explanation, which made it more difficult for me to understand. Staying healthy and making the right life choices will keep you on the path to staying cancer-free. Instead of choosing that Big Mac; opt for the salad with your choice of light dressing. Rather than drinking a litre of juice, try water with ice, and keep juices packed with sugars to a measured cup of 250ml.
All I can hope for is for people to realize that their health is the direct result of their choices. If you make better choices, you’re bound to have a long and healthy life.
Health Canada’s website
http://www.hs-sc.gc.ca/
Get your own copy of Canada’s Food Guide
(Available in PDF format or you can order a hard copy)
http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/fn-an/food-guide-aliment/order-commander/index-eng.php
Monday, August 23, 2010
Life Lesson #2: Don't compare your life to those of others
In everyone’s life at some point or another, they come across something they find hard to accept. It can be something against their morals, their will or something they simply don’t understand. It can be a person, a dream or a way of life. For instance, I found it very hard to accept the fact that I had cancer. I did not want it. It was not fair. I did not understand. To be very frank, my first thoughts were, ‘Someone else deserves this, not me.’
Collecting my thoughts in later years, I realized it was very unkind of me to think such things. No one deserves to be ill, sick or disadvantaged in any way. Everyone has their own path in life which they choose to follow. Some may stray off their path and others will ride it until the very end. My path became obstructed when I was diagnosed. After finding out that my surgery was scheduled for late September and that radiation therapy would last two weeks, my hopes for post-secondary education that year began to fade. There would be no way for me to attend class and do well in my courses missing a combined month and a half. My life would be put on hold for some time.
I immediately began to compare myself with others, envious of my friends who were to begin college and university. I was completely and utterly jealous and I will admit it freely. Cancer was scary. I wanted to be the girl on campus, drinking Starbucks, having fun. I thought I was the only one going through a difficult time in my life. I didn’t know until years later that a friend’s grandmother had passed away and another friend had missed deadlines for university that same year. A few friends had even failed classes in our last year and had to stay back for a semester. All their lives were put on hold too, but for different reasons.
Different people cope with different things differently. That is what makes us all so unique. You never know the path that is taken by another whether it’s a stranger, a friend or a colleague. Their path may look far better to you than your own and vice versa. However, you don’t know what their personal conflicts are and you don’t know how they deal with things and how difficult it may be for them.
Be happy with what you have and the life you live and try not to compare yourself to others. Life is what you make it and if you are lucky there are little surprises along the way. You can wish upon a star for a life much different than your own but would you really want to forget the great people you’ve met along the way, erase all the love you’ve shared and change the dreams you’ve created for yourself. Would you really want to trade your problems for the problems of someone else?
Collecting my thoughts in later years, I realized it was very unkind of me to think such things. No one deserves to be ill, sick or disadvantaged in any way. Everyone has their own path in life which they choose to follow. Some may stray off their path and others will ride it until the very end. My path became obstructed when I was diagnosed. After finding out that my surgery was scheduled for late September and that radiation therapy would last two weeks, my hopes for post-secondary education that year began to fade. There would be no way for me to attend class and do well in my courses missing a combined month and a half. My life would be put on hold for some time.
I immediately began to compare myself with others, envious of my friends who were to begin college and university. I was completely and utterly jealous and I will admit it freely. Cancer was scary. I wanted to be the girl on campus, drinking Starbucks, having fun. I thought I was the only one going through a difficult time in my life. I didn’t know until years later that a friend’s grandmother had passed away and another friend had missed deadlines for university that same year. A few friends had even failed classes in our last year and had to stay back for a semester. All their lives were put on hold too, but for different reasons.
Different people cope with different things differently. That is what makes us all so unique. You never know the path that is taken by another whether it’s a stranger, a friend or a colleague. Their path may look far better to you than your own and vice versa. However, you don’t know what their personal conflicts are and you don’t know how they deal with things and how difficult it may be for them.
Be happy with what you have and the life you live and try not to compare yourself to others. Life is what you make it and if you are lucky there are little surprises along the way. You can wish upon a star for a life much different than your own but would you really want to forget the great people you’ve met along the way, erase all the love you’ve shared and change the dreams you’ve created for yourself. Would you really want to trade your problems for the problems of someone else?
Friday, August 20, 2010
Life Lesson #1: Don't Take Anything For Granted
I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer at the age of 17, shortly after graduating high school in 2005. I will be turning 23 on September 1st and it will be six years since that tragic twist of fate. Over the next week I will be guest blogging for ottawacancer.blogspot.com and I am privileged to share some of the most valuable life lessons I have learnt from being a cancer victim and today – a proud cancer survivor.
Young or old; there will always be things you take for granted. You may take your spouse for granted, or maybe your impeccable health; or money. Those are just a few examples; it could really be anything, depending on who you are. As I discovered at the young age of 17; things can change in a moment and you are left with nothing. I woke up one morning with what I pictured as perfect health and the next day – the harsh reality that I had cancer. The seemingly perfect life that I had and always took for granted had been stripped from me.
All the money and all the designer handbags in the universe could not have changed how I felt after receiving my diagnosis. I was suddenly so grateful to have a family that supported me whole heartedly and friends that I could really count on. I had plenty of shoulders to cry on when I broke down and most of all; I had really great parents that were there for me through the good, the bad and the ugly.
The most important thing in life is to not take things for granted and be thankful for what you have. There were times during my battle that I took things for granted entirely and never thought twice about it; in my case, cancer was a rude awakening. I can say I definitely think a little bit harder about my decisions now, I don’t hold grudges and I can’t be upset because life really is too short to be angry. I look at the petty day to day disappointments as spilt milk and wipe the slate clean for the next day. I try to forget the negative and focus on the positive, but it takes a bit of practice.
Whatever obstacles life throws your way, whether it be cancer, a divorce, loss of a job, a death in the family; know that people will always be behind you helping you fight, and know that within yourself, you have the strength to carry on. Don’t take for granted the people who care about you most, let them know they are loved, because in the end they are just as fragile as you. And most of all, never give up. Things always get better. Trust me, I know…
Young or old; there will always be things you take for granted. You may take your spouse for granted, or maybe your impeccable health; or money. Those are just a few examples; it could really be anything, depending on who you are. As I discovered at the young age of 17; things can change in a moment and you are left with nothing. I woke up one morning with what I pictured as perfect health and the next day – the harsh reality that I had cancer. The seemingly perfect life that I had and always took for granted had been stripped from me.
All the money and all the designer handbags in the universe could not have changed how I felt after receiving my diagnosis. I was suddenly so grateful to have a family that supported me whole heartedly and friends that I could really count on. I had plenty of shoulders to cry on when I broke down and most of all; I had really great parents that were there for me through the good, the bad and the ugly.
The most important thing in life is to not take things for granted and be thankful for what you have. There were times during my battle that I took things for granted entirely and never thought twice about it; in my case, cancer was a rude awakening. I can say I definitely think a little bit harder about my decisions now, I don’t hold grudges and I can’t be upset because life really is too short to be angry. I look at the petty day to day disappointments as spilt milk and wipe the slate clean for the next day. I try to forget the negative and focus on the positive, but it takes a bit of practice.
Whatever obstacles life throws your way, whether it be cancer, a divorce, loss of a job, a death in the family; know that people will always be behind you helping you fight, and know that within yourself, you have the strength to carry on. Don’t take for granted the people who care about you most, let them know they are loved, because in the end they are just as fragile as you. And most of all, never give up. Things always get better. Trust me, I know…
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Couch to 10K
I mentioned in my opening entry that one of the reasons why I had signed up to participate in the Underwear Affair was to get myself into better shape. I’ve done the lifestyle change before and for the most part had stuck to it, but just like anything else, it requires practice, practice, practice.
I stopped practicing for a while. And then the weight started coming back on. At my heaviest I was 170lbs. While that’s certainly not obese for someone of my height (5’6”), it certainly didn’t make me feel good. There’s also the health risks associated with gaining too much weight. So it was my objective to not only conquer this 10km run, but also get myself into better shape.
I’ve never been a fan of the gym. I’m someone who resists and avoid at all possible. So I had to find a way to make this challenge stick. I found a great program called “Couch to 5km”. The point of the program is to get people off the couch and in nine weeks of interval training to get them running a 5km run in 45 minutes. A little more digging unearthed a modified “Couch to 10km” run on someone’s blog. The 10km version has me doing interval training three times a week for thirteen weeks. With my love for yoga, I got myself running three times a week and bending and breathing myself through one to two sixty minute yoga sessions a week.
It’s also about the healthy eating too; less processed foods, more fruits and vegetables. Portion sizes and frequency of eating as well. I rarely eat junk food, and I keep out of the house to avoid the temptation. I still indulge from time to time, but I’m finding I’m more careful about my choices, and am aware of how often I eat it.
Overall, committing myself to the Underwear Affair has forced me to take a good look at how I’m living my life. I’m eating better, working out and a few weeks ago hit my goal weight. I’m a leaner, fit version of myself. With a little luck, some hard work and advances in medical science, I hopefully will never have to face cancer in my life.
Couch to 5km
http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml
Couch to 10km
http://dailyburn.com/workout_programs/345751-Couch-to-10k-Running-Program
I stopped practicing for a while. And then the weight started coming back on. At my heaviest I was 170lbs. While that’s certainly not obese for someone of my height (5’6”), it certainly didn’t make me feel good. There’s also the health risks associated with gaining too much weight. So it was my objective to not only conquer this 10km run, but also get myself into better shape.
I’ve never been a fan of the gym. I’m someone who resists and avoid at all possible. So I had to find a way to make this challenge stick. I found a great program called “Couch to 5km”. The point of the program is to get people off the couch and in nine weeks of interval training to get them running a 5km run in 45 minutes. A little more digging unearthed a modified “Couch to 10km” run on someone’s blog. The 10km version has me doing interval training three times a week for thirteen weeks. With my love for yoga, I got myself running three times a week and bending and breathing myself through one to two sixty minute yoga sessions a week.
It’s also about the healthy eating too; less processed foods, more fruits and vegetables. Portion sizes and frequency of eating as well. I rarely eat junk food, and I keep out of the house to avoid the temptation. I still indulge from time to time, but I’m finding I’m more careful about my choices, and am aware of how often I eat it.
Overall, committing myself to the Underwear Affair has forced me to take a good look at how I’m living my life. I’m eating better, working out and a few weeks ago hit my goal weight. I’m a leaner, fit version of myself. With a little luck, some hard work and advances in medical science, I hopefully will never have to face cancer in my life.
Couch to 5km
http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml
Couch to 10km
http://dailyburn.com/workout_programs/345751-Couch-to-10k-Running-Program
Monday, August 9, 2010
Who's this Mike Guy?
My name is Mike Cullen and I am a first time participant in the Underwear Affair. I have taken part in various cancer related runs for the last ten years or so, but felt that this year I needed a change of pace. When a friend suggested the Underwear Affair, it seemed like just the crazy type of event that I should take part in. I set up an ambitious fundraising goal of $1,000 and vowed to family, friends and colleagues that if I raised that amount, I would run the full 10km course in my underwear. As of July 2010 I have raised over $1,100, have the special undies picked out and I’m anxiously waiting for the day of the run.
I’m not just doing it for the change of pace though. I’m also taking part in the Underwear Affair for personal reasons. I’m passionate about cancer research and the dream of one day finding a cure for a disease that touches virtually every life. Whether you’ve experienced cancer for yourself or have seen a friend, family member or coworker go through this battle, it is almost impossible to find someone who hasn’t gone through it; and there’s no reason for it with our medical advances.
My participation in the Underwear Affair is for other reasons as well. As someone who lives with an autoimmune deficiency disease, I am at an increased risk for colon, prostate and small bowel cancers. I don’t live with a dark cloud over my head, but realistically having Crohn’s Disease increases the chance that I may face one of those three cancers in my lifetime.
I’m also taking part to get into better shape. I used to be one of those people who religiously went to the gym three to four times a week. I started slacking off about a year ago, and I noticed the changes; not only the weight gain but the feeling rundown all the time, susceptibility to illness and general bad lifestyle choices. I took this opportunity to get back into shape. This will be my first 10km run, and I plan on running it all. I now run three times a week and try to do yoga at least once a week. As a result, I’ve dropped about twenty five pounds since April, improved my lifestyle and in general feel a lot better about myself both physically and mentally.
Lastly, I’m doing this for a friend who recently lost her father to a battle with Colon cancer. He fought until the very end, and his courageous face on approach to his illness inspires me to not only cross that finish line, but to keep running until cancer has been beaten for good. Big D Palvetzian, this one’s for you!
I’m not just doing it for the change of pace though. I’m also taking part in the Underwear Affair for personal reasons. I’m passionate about cancer research and the dream of one day finding a cure for a disease that touches virtually every life. Whether you’ve experienced cancer for yourself or have seen a friend, family member or coworker go through this battle, it is almost impossible to find someone who hasn’t gone through it; and there’s no reason for it with our medical advances.
My participation in the Underwear Affair is for other reasons as well. As someone who lives with an autoimmune deficiency disease, I am at an increased risk for colon, prostate and small bowel cancers. I don’t live with a dark cloud over my head, but realistically having Crohn’s Disease increases the chance that I may face one of those three cancers in my lifetime.
I’m also taking part to get into better shape. I used to be one of those people who religiously went to the gym three to four times a week. I started slacking off about a year ago, and I noticed the changes; not only the weight gain but the feeling rundown all the time, susceptibility to illness and general bad lifestyle choices. I took this opportunity to get back into shape. This will be my first 10km run, and I plan on running it all. I now run three times a week and try to do yoga at least once a week. As a result, I’ve dropped about twenty five pounds since April, improved my lifestyle and in general feel a lot better about myself both physically and mentally.
Lastly, I’m doing this for a friend who recently lost her father to a battle with Colon cancer. He fought until the very end, and his courageous face on approach to his illness inspires me to not only cross that finish line, but to keep running until cancer has been beaten for good. Big D Palvetzian, this one’s for you!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Sunscreen, Cancer and You: Retinyl Palmitate (vitamin A) and Vitamin D Deficiency
Retinyl Palmitate (vitamin A)
A more recent ingredient being added to select sunscreens is retinyl palmitate. Retinyl palmitate is a form of vitamin A commonly used in cosmetic products to reduce wrinkles and fine lines by acting as an antioxidant that slows skin aging.
The problem with retinyl palmitate, according to the Environmental Working Group (EWG), is that there is scientific evidence that illustrates that this form of vitamin A, when applied to the skin in the presence of sunlight, may speed the development of skin tumors and, thus, skin cancer.
The evidence EWG refers to is a study conducted by the Federal Drug Administration (FDA) in 2009. This study is, however, under review and will not be completed until next year.
So should we avoid retinyl palmitate?
As the FDA is still reviewing the research concerning its safety, it might be vigilant to avoid retinyl palmitate in sunscreen until we know more about its possible consequences. This should not be hard to do. According to EWG’s analysis of sunscreens, only 44% of sunscreens sold on American shelves, and by extension Canadian shelves, contain this ingredient.
Vitamin D Deficiency and Sunscreen
Although, according to the latest survey by Statistics Canada, 90% of Canadians have more than adequate amount of vitamin D to provide optimal bone health, two-thirds of Canadians (67%) are below the recommended levels of vitamin D that is associated with a greater risk of breast cancer, colorectal cancer and adenomas.
One of the best sources of vitamin D is sun exposure. Given our lengthy Canadian winters and our culture of working/playing indoors, Canadians simply do not get enough sun exposure to benefit from its vitamin D source.
Sunscreen, as good as it may be at blocking harmful UV rays, also acts as a vitamin D barrier. So on one hand sunscreen may protect us from skin cancer, but on the other hand it may contribute to other cancer risks.
So what should we do?
Vitamin D deficiency is a comprehensive topic that requires some time to discuss. If you are concerned about vitamin D deficiency, please consult your general practitioner.
It terms of sun safety, even if sunscreen may impact our levels of vitamin D, sunscreen remains a strongly recommended secondary measure of sun protection. But remember, primary prevention remains staying in the shade, avoiding the sun during peak hours or remaining covered while outdoors.
Now lets go out and have some fun in the sun!
Environmental Working Group Sunscreen Guide
If you would like more information regarding sunscreen safety, please refer to the Environmental Working Groups Sunscreen Guide. The guide provides some useful quick tips as well as a comprehensive rating system of many available sunscreens. It also provides a search feature, which allows you to search for your sunscreen rating.
The Guide can be found here:
Sources of Information
Canadian Cancer Society. (March, 2010). Sunscreen and cancer. Accessed on June 18th,
2010 at http://bit.ly/dqgNog
Environmental Working Group. (2010). EWG’s 2010 sunscreen guide. Accessed on June
15th, 2010 at http://www.ewg.org/2010sunscreen/
Gavura, Scott. (June, 2010). The great sunscreen cover up. Science-Based Medicine.
Accessed on June 18th, 2010 at http://www.sciencebasedmedicine.org/?p=5541
Statistics Canada. (2009). Vitamin D status of Canadians as measured in the 2007 to
2009 Canadian Health Measures Survey. Accessed on June 30th, 2010 at http://bit.ly/aAkj2e
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