We're already at the mid-way point of my blog experience and having read through several entries written by others I feel ill-equipped to add to wealth of experience and wisdom found on this site. But in my own feeble way, allow me to invite you to carry on with me through my experience. Up to this point I've recounted how I was initially diagnosed with a seemingly benign lump inside the right corner of my mandible. Nothing nefarious evidently, just a mass of cells growing in an inconvenient location for no apparent reason. I underwent surgery which involved cutting my jaw bone in half allowing the surgeon to splay the lower portion of my face wide open, providing access to the tumour. It was described as an aggressive surgery to say the least but I was reassured that it was also routine and I could expect to return to normal life within weeks.
What happened next changed everything.
My journal entry from August 11th, 2009:
It's funny how your body intuitively knows things. You may not have the medical expertise to accurately describe what's ailing you or even understand the nature of the problem, but you know when something is wrong. Somehow we just instinctively know when something is out of the ordinary. Serious. Perhaps life-threatening.
I write this a couple of hours after my post-surgical follow-up exam to discuss my recent surgery. That surgery involved cutting my jaw bone in half to remove a paraphalangeal tumour behind the right corner of my jaw. The surgery was a success and the doctor feels he was able to remove the entire mass and the initial biopsy revealed no worrisome findings. Just a lump of tissue that grew out of control for some reason.
As it turns out, some very complex pathological testing has revealed something else. You see, the doctor was concerned in the days leading up to my surgery because the tumour suddenly grew by a considerable amount and this was accompanied by equally considerable pain. It seems that concern was well founded. The tumour was malignant. I have cancer.
Funny how that looks in print. Even stranger is the sensation of typing it. I don't really know what it means. It's such a nebulous, all-encompassing disease that spells certain death for some while sparing others to a routine treatment regimen only to return them to their normal lives with a newfound sense of appreciation for the fleeting nature of life. I don't know where mine falls on that scale. I don't know how long that question will loom over me or if it will ever truly be answered. I don't know much about what the next few months have in store for me.
Having already been through an aggressive surgery to remove the tumour and having had a few months to consider the possibilities, I'm not entirely surprised by the news. I've skipped over the denial and depression and sadness stages and moved directly to anger. That's probably normal. News like this tends to reduce the entire world down to a little sphere that surrounds you and the air inside is filled with the sour smell of unfair deal. Why me? Why anyone for that matter?
I've always considered serious illness to be a fact of life, not something to be treated with much emotion. I still feel that way. Bad things happen to good people and bad people and getting upset about it won't change anything. In fact a big emotional outburst will only serve to make all those involved feel silly afterwards. I don't want any special treatment or consideration. Like my original note on the tumour a few months ago, I'm only writing this so all my friends are aware of what's going on. But I am angry about it, despite myself.
So, I'll meet with an oncologist to discuss my treatment options. Most likely it will be a radiation session that involves getting zapped in the skull every day for six weeks. The side-effects are not much fun but at least no one will notice the hair loss. I'll have to have several full-body scans to ensure the cancer hasn't spread to other areas, after all, it was part of my glandular system which makes it quite easy for the bad cells to spread around the body. I won't be able to return to work as soon as I'd hoped and I won't be able to honour any of the social commitments that I was looking forward to. I will truly miss seeing those of you who had special plans that involved me this summer and I wish you the very best without me.
Cliché as it may be, I have no intention of letting this thing alter my life over the long term. I will get back on my feet and I will return to work and I will still be the same guy you've always known. There's a belief that once you tell people you have cancer, that's all they can see. If I can ask anything of you as my friends, it's that you don't let me see an ounce of pity or sadness in your eyes. I'm carrying on as I always would and I expect you to do the same. There are far worse things in life than what I'm dealing with, so please, let's all just get on with our lives and look forward to a bright future.
As for the short term, I have little choice but to yield to the medical experts who seem confident that they can fix this. I've been told that my condition is so rare that the Ottawa General has documented ten cases...in its history. So despite the uncharted nature of this problem, I will place my faith in the doctors hands. I'll place my faith in the goodwill of my family and friends. I'll place my faith in my own stubbornness and determination to get my way at all costs.
You are all precious to me in your own unique way and many of you to each other. Don't be afraid to share that with those you care about most. You never know what tomorrow may bring.
---
Unlike my previous posts, I don't have anything to add to this one. There's no moral or lesson beyond what's already been written here. I still read this and remember how I felt the day I was given the bad news. I still remember being surprised that I felt sorry for myself only for a few minutes before I decided to get on with living, fighting and winning. Acceptance is fundamental but once you come face to face with the monster you have little choice. After all, denial won't make it go away.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Anger Management
In as much as I would love to tell the world that we cancer survivors are a tough breed filled with determination and optimism I have to acknowledge that I would only be telling you a portion of the story in doing so. To survive this experience, you and those around you will need to summon every ounce of strength and courage available and even then, the effort will fall short on several occasions. What few people like to admit however, is how much anger you'll encounter. That avoidance stems from a misunderstanding of the nature of anger. It isn't a negative emotion. It is a fundamental recognition that something is wrong. Something unjust or unfair has occurred and it needs to be righted. But what do you do with it?
I channel my anger toward fixing my problems. It motivates me to aggressively seek out a better, fairer, more empathetic way of living. It reminds me that there are no problems in life, only undiscovered solutions.
As a journalist I frequently engage in the public spectacle of the great Canadian health care debate. It doesn't matter who you ask, everyone has an opinion and like religion or politics, health care should probably top the list of things not to discuss over the dinner table. But my profession requires me to ask questions, to explore angles and to polarize issues. As it turns out, my choice of vocation compliments my nature which is to be inquisitive and often outspoken. So let me now take you to my journal entry, just a couple of days before my surgery to remove what I still believed was a benign tumour in my jaw...
July 15th, 2009:
As I head into my surgery to have this silly mass of tissue removed I can't help but be angry and amused at the same time. I know this event has become quite the spectator sport on Facebook so I thought I'd milk one final ounce of pity from the experience and reflect on what's happened and what it all means to me.
First, I have to talk about my experience with our healthcare system because as a talk radio host that subject always makes for good argument fodder. To be blunt, the Canadian healthcare system falls well short of universal healthcare and those who think we must protect it at all costs to avoid a two-tier system are missing the point. We already have a multi-tier system but it's not working as effectively as it could because provinces and doctors still compete with each other for business. Procedures that miss wait-time targets in Ontario are easy to find in Quebec and vice versa however the practice of cross-border referral is strongly discouraged and in some cases doctors can be fined for doing so. So there's a wealth of MRI's in Montreal but a complete lack of joint replacement capacity and the reverse is true in Ontario. Just one example.
In my case, diagnosing my ailment required a CT, an MRI and a biopsy. Each exam required a three-week wait and had I not diligently phoned the hospital and clinics in question on a daily basis it would have taken far longer because I was "forgotten" on several occasions. Once I was able to make an appointment I was rarely seen on time and in most cases waited at least two hours which calls into question the purpose of making an appointment. After the tests had been completed, I was able to consult with my doctor and it was very clear on each occasion that the clock was running. In no way did I feel that I ever had a chance to fully digest all the information I was given or to ask all the questions flooding my head. I'm still unclear on some of the procedural issues of my surgery and have resorted to finding my own answers on the internet. I don't feel as though I'm well-informed about how my recovery will proceed once the operation is done. My confidence in the system would be significantly stronger if only my doctor could spare an additional 10 to 15 minutes. But I don't place the blame on his shoulders because there were dozens of other people just like me waiting for their appointment and he needed to see them as well.
The fault lies in the system. We don't have enough doctors and nurses, we all know that. But now the provincial government has made things worse by implementing wait-time standards. Counter-intuitive as that may sound, hospital staff are now functioning on quota. Quantity has replaced what shred of quality our over-taxed system still had and details are going overlooked. Important details. Life-altering details. And the patient has little or no recourse.
So I'm angry. I'm angry that to begin with, I have just about the most pointless illness possible. A benign mass growing in my face that will ultimately kill me for no good reason. There's no nobility or honour in that. It's not comparable to the situation a firefighter faces upon suffering an injury sustained while saving someone's life. I can't identify with a soldier who was injured while protecting the freedom of others. It's just a big stupid lump in a terrible place forcing me to make a spectacle of myself. But worse than that, I'm angry because the system which is meant to be a cornerstone of Canadian culture has reduced me to a nameless statistic. That which we claim to cherish so deeply has been broken for such a long time and we're all in denial. I have no doubt that I'll get responses to this note defending our system and all its merits because that's how entrenched the model has become in our national identity. Travel the world and look at how other countries are mixing public and private health care and how it hasn't resulted in two levels of care, but rather two systems that compliment each other. The current Canadian healthcare system coddles hypochondriacs and punishes those with valid illnesses. It sets unrealistic targets for doctors and nurses forcing them to compromise their standards so politicians can score points with style-over-substance wait-time registries. It wastes billions of dollars maintaining a model which stopped working years ago because the people of this country are too stubborn and ignorant to realise there's a better way.
--
That's where my head was a few days before my surgery. To say I had some anger issues would certainly qualify as an understatement. To summarily disqualify those issues because they were raised in anger would be unfair. When I read this blog post today, it makes me realise how much I still had to learn about our health care system and how well it does work. I also realise that there are legitimate problems, some of which I identified, and we should continue a dialogue with all involved to improve our system because at some point it will touch all of us. Mostly it made me realise that I have not only an opportunity, but rather an obligation to use my position to raise these issues, to maintain the debate, to give a voice to the voiceless because complacency and ignorance is the real enemy.
The experience taught me to be my own advocate and to demand that my questions be answered. It also taught me to thank the wonderful people who work in the system who truly care about their patients and give their very best each and every day to help us through some of the most challenging periods we've faced.
The experience taught me to use my anger to learn, to grow and to think beyond my own perspective. It made me stronger. Your anger can do the same.
I channel my anger toward fixing my problems. It motivates me to aggressively seek out a better, fairer, more empathetic way of living. It reminds me that there are no problems in life, only undiscovered solutions.
As a journalist I frequently engage in the public spectacle of the great Canadian health care debate. It doesn't matter who you ask, everyone has an opinion and like religion or politics, health care should probably top the list of things not to discuss over the dinner table. But my profession requires me to ask questions, to explore angles and to polarize issues. As it turns out, my choice of vocation compliments my nature which is to be inquisitive and often outspoken. So let me now take you to my journal entry, just a couple of days before my surgery to remove what I still believed was a benign tumour in my jaw...
July 15th, 2009:
As I head into my surgery to have this silly mass of tissue removed I can't help but be angry and amused at the same time. I know this event has become quite the spectator sport on Facebook so I thought I'd milk one final ounce of pity from the experience and reflect on what's happened and what it all means to me.
First, I have to talk about my experience with our healthcare system because as a talk radio host that subject always makes for good argument fodder. To be blunt, the Canadian healthcare system falls well short of universal healthcare and those who think we must protect it at all costs to avoid a two-tier system are missing the point. We already have a multi-tier system but it's not working as effectively as it could because provinces and doctors still compete with each other for business. Procedures that miss wait-time targets in Ontario are easy to find in Quebec and vice versa however the practice of cross-border referral is strongly discouraged and in some cases doctors can be fined for doing so. So there's a wealth of MRI's in Montreal but a complete lack of joint replacement capacity and the reverse is true in Ontario. Just one example.
In my case, diagnosing my ailment required a CT, an MRI and a biopsy. Each exam required a three-week wait and had I not diligently phoned the hospital and clinics in question on a daily basis it would have taken far longer because I was "forgotten" on several occasions. Once I was able to make an appointment I was rarely seen on time and in most cases waited at least two hours which calls into question the purpose of making an appointment. After the tests had been completed, I was able to consult with my doctor and it was very clear on each occasion that the clock was running. In no way did I feel that I ever had a chance to fully digest all the information I was given or to ask all the questions flooding my head. I'm still unclear on some of the procedural issues of my surgery and have resorted to finding my own answers on the internet. I don't feel as though I'm well-informed about how my recovery will proceed once the operation is done. My confidence in the system would be significantly stronger if only my doctor could spare an additional 10 to 15 minutes. But I don't place the blame on his shoulders because there were dozens of other people just like me waiting for their appointment and he needed to see them as well.
The fault lies in the system. We don't have enough doctors and nurses, we all know that. But now the provincial government has made things worse by implementing wait-time standards. Counter-intuitive as that may sound, hospital staff are now functioning on quota. Quantity has replaced what shred of quality our over-taxed system still had and details are going overlooked. Important details. Life-altering details. And the patient has little or no recourse.
So I'm angry. I'm angry that to begin with, I have just about the most pointless illness possible. A benign mass growing in my face that will ultimately kill me for no good reason. There's no nobility or honour in that. It's not comparable to the situation a firefighter faces upon suffering an injury sustained while saving someone's life. I can't identify with a soldier who was injured while protecting the freedom of others. It's just a big stupid lump in a terrible place forcing me to make a spectacle of myself. But worse than that, I'm angry because the system which is meant to be a cornerstone of Canadian culture has reduced me to a nameless statistic. That which we claim to cherish so deeply has been broken for such a long time and we're all in denial. I have no doubt that I'll get responses to this note defending our system and all its merits because that's how entrenched the model has become in our national identity. Travel the world and look at how other countries are mixing public and private health care and how it hasn't resulted in two levels of care, but rather two systems that compliment each other. The current Canadian healthcare system coddles hypochondriacs and punishes those with valid illnesses. It sets unrealistic targets for doctors and nurses forcing them to compromise their standards so politicians can score points with style-over-substance wait-time registries. It wastes billions of dollars maintaining a model which stopped working years ago because the people of this country are too stubborn and ignorant to realise there's a better way.
--
That's where my head was a few days before my surgery. To say I had some anger issues would certainly qualify as an understatement. To summarily disqualify those issues because they were raised in anger would be unfair. When I read this blog post today, it makes me realise how much I still had to learn about our health care system and how well it does work. I also realise that there are legitimate problems, some of which I identified, and we should continue a dialogue with all involved to improve our system because at some point it will touch all of us. Mostly it made me realise that I have not only an opportunity, but rather an obligation to use my position to raise these issues, to maintain the debate, to give a voice to the voiceless because complacency and ignorance is the real enemy.
The experience taught me to be my own advocate and to demand that my questions be answered. It also taught me to thank the wonderful people who work in the system who truly care about their patients and give their very best each and every day to help us through some of the most challenging periods we've faced.
The experience taught me to use my anger to learn, to grow and to think beyond my own perspective. It made me stronger. Your anger can do the same.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Writing has always been the easiest avenue forward.
Hi there, my name is Greg and I'll be your guest blogger this week. I don't know much about the blogosphere it's rule or the expectations of those who read these types of things. I'm not sure which writing format best fits the social media space. Given it's ability to reach a wide array of readers I could presume that a formal writing style might be best. But social media also lends itself to revealing of very personal information from time to time which might suggest that a more casual style is best. I work in the communications realm and yet I find myself at a loss when it comes to expressing my most personal feelings. So bear with me if you please and I'll try to share some of my humble experience with you. And the first thing I want to share is how cathartic it is to express your feelings as much as possible and whenever possible. It's bad enough to discover that something foreign is growing inside you and that the treatment is the use of toxic chemicals, damaging radiation and difficult surgery but to deny yourself the purging of emotional stress is downright fatal.
For me, writing was always the easiest avenue forward. I dislike confrontation and emotional outbursts and I've always found it much simpler to collect my thoughts in private and hammer away on my keyboard. Write, organize, rearrange, spell check, write some more. Damnit, that wasn't a proper sentence, my English teachers will be so disappointed.
My writing is at once an outlet for my sense of humour and some of the darkest emotions I've encountered in my 35 years on this planet. It allows me to say in confidence that which wouldn't pass my lips under normal circumstances. So for my first blog entry, I'm going to share samples of what I wrote as I was being diagnosed with what I now know was a synovial cell sarcoma growth in my jaw.
Friday, May 22, 2009 "Many of you have no doubt noticed that I haven't been to work this week. Those of you who I don't see as often probably have no idea that anything is out of the ordinary with me. So I thought I would embrace the great powers of Facebook to tell you all my story in one shot. Once you read the details below, you'll understand why I'm trying to avoid repeating the story three or four dozen times.
I've been diagnosed with a tumour about the size of an apple in my head just behind the right corner of my jaw. Now before you go shopping for condolence cards at Hallmark, know that it appears to be benign. Just a big annoying lump of tissue which has grown uncontrollably for no apparent reason. The doctors tell me this is actually quite common and quite treatable, but it's going to require some pretty radical surgery.
I won't get into too much (gory) detail here, but the procedure is going to require a fairly major incision down the middle of my chin and around the jaw. They'll cut the jaw bone in half, peel back half my face and then remove the stupid tumour. That's the gross part. The procedure is going to cause a lot of swelling, not to mention it'll be impossible to eat, breathe or swallow normally for a while, so I'll be in the hospital for a couple of weeks after the surgery with a breathing tube in my neck and a feeding tube in my stomach. That's the unpleasant part.
Afterwards I'll be home recovering, trying to get strength and normal mobility restored in my face and jaw so I can eat and speak again. There is a big nerve which controls facial function right in the middle of this whole mess, so there is a possibility that I will never regain control of the right side of my face and that will be the end of my career in radio. That's the worst case scenario.
If all goes according to plan, I'll be back to normal a few weeks after the surgery and by the fall it'll be as though none of this ever happened (save for a small scar under my chin). That's what I'm planning on.
I'm writing this publicly because I'm not a big fan of secrets and I don't want any of my friends to worry about me or for there to be any confusion about what's really going on. I would want to know what was happening with any of my friends if our positions were reversed. But I don't want any big ordeal surrounding this. I'm no different today than I was yesterday and I don't want anyone to feel obligated to do or say anything they wouldn't normally do or say. It is what it is and I'll get though it in no time.
So there it is. Big lump requires big surgery and carries potentially big consequences but I feel fine and I'm totally confident that I'll be back to my normal self in no time. If you still feel the need to react to this news in some measurable way I am accepting cash donations which will undoubtedly help to determine who my favourite friends are after this is over.
That was what I was thinking before I knew I had cancer. My thoughts were focused on easing the concerns of family and friends and imparting a sense of courage and bravery on my loved ones and myself. Mostly it felt good to get the words out in one motion, knowing that word would spread and that I could avoid the unenviable process of explaining my situation over and over. I highly recommend this method of writing and sharing on the social media realm.
After this came one of the most difficult challenges I have ever faced. Tune in tomorrow...
For me, writing was always the easiest avenue forward. I dislike confrontation and emotional outbursts and I've always found it much simpler to collect my thoughts in private and hammer away on my keyboard. Write, organize, rearrange, spell check, write some more. Damnit, that wasn't a proper sentence, my English teachers will be so disappointed.
My writing is at once an outlet for my sense of humour and some of the darkest emotions I've encountered in my 35 years on this planet. It allows me to say in confidence that which wouldn't pass my lips under normal circumstances. So for my first blog entry, I'm going to share samples of what I wrote as I was being diagnosed with what I now know was a synovial cell sarcoma growth in my jaw.
Friday, May 22, 2009 "Many of you have no doubt noticed that I haven't been to work this week. Those of you who I don't see as often probably have no idea that anything is out of the ordinary with me. So I thought I would embrace the great powers of Facebook to tell you all my story in one shot. Once you read the details below, you'll understand why I'm trying to avoid repeating the story three or four dozen times.
I've been diagnosed with a tumour about the size of an apple in my head just behind the right corner of my jaw. Now before you go shopping for condolence cards at Hallmark, know that it appears to be benign. Just a big annoying lump of tissue which has grown uncontrollably for no apparent reason. The doctors tell me this is actually quite common and quite treatable, but it's going to require some pretty radical surgery.
I won't get into too much (gory) detail here, but the procedure is going to require a fairly major incision down the middle of my chin and around the jaw. They'll cut the jaw bone in half, peel back half my face and then remove the stupid tumour. That's the gross part. The procedure is going to cause a lot of swelling, not to mention it'll be impossible to eat, breathe or swallow normally for a while, so I'll be in the hospital for a couple of weeks after the surgery with a breathing tube in my neck and a feeding tube in my stomach. That's the unpleasant part.
Afterwards I'll be home recovering, trying to get strength and normal mobility restored in my face and jaw so I can eat and speak again. There is a big nerve which controls facial function right in the middle of this whole mess, so there is a possibility that I will never regain control of the right side of my face and that will be the end of my career in radio. That's the worst case scenario.
If all goes according to plan, I'll be back to normal a few weeks after the surgery and by the fall it'll be as though none of this ever happened (save for a small scar under my chin). That's what I'm planning on.
I'm writing this publicly because I'm not a big fan of secrets and I don't want any of my friends to worry about me or for there to be any confusion about what's really going on. I would want to know what was happening with any of my friends if our positions were reversed. But I don't want any big ordeal surrounding this. I'm no different today than I was yesterday and I don't want anyone to feel obligated to do or say anything they wouldn't normally do or say. It is what it is and I'll get though it in no time.
So there it is. Big lump requires big surgery and carries potentially big consequences but I feel fine and I'm totally confident that I'll be back to my normal self in no time. If you still feel the need to react to this news in some measurable way I am accepting cash donations which will undoubtedly help to determine who my favourite friends are after this is over.
That was what I was thinking before I knew I had cancer. My thoughts were focused on easing the concerns of family and friends and imparting a sense of courage and bravery on my loved ones and myself. Mostly it felt good to get the words out in one motion, knowing that word would spread and that I could avoid the unenviable process of explaining my situation over and over. I highly recommend this method of writing and sharing on the social media realm.
After this came one of the most difficult challenges I have ever faced. Tune in tomorrow...
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Power of Sharing Your Cancer Story
In 2007, I had a booth at the Ottawa Independent Writer’s Book Fair, an annual event that usually takes place in November at the RA Center in Ottawa. That is where I met Frank Hegyi, a fellow cancer survivor who was all excited to tell me about this very special book project he was working on that would bring hope and inspiration to cancer patients and survivors as well as their families, friends and colleagues. Knowing that I am a cancer survivor myself, Frank asked me if I wanted to join him in putting this book together that would be a collection of stories from cancer survivors. I was honoured to be invited to participate in such a special project and was especially touched because his vision for this project was not for profit, but rather to raise money for cancer research and cancer patient programs. I saw this as a wonderful opportunity to give back to both the Ottawa and global community.
I agreed to join the project. Jacquelin Holzman and Max Keeping, two well-known Ottawa personalities and other fellow cancer survivors, joined as well. The four of us formed a team to strategically get the word out and get the media on board to help us advertise that we were looking for cancer survivors to share their stories in our book. The Ottawa Citizen and the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation were instrumental in helping us to collect stories. The stories started to pour in. Each story was unique and inspiring beyond words. We ended up with a collection of 36 stories which now also includes my own story and those of Frank Hegyi, Jacquelin Holzman, Max Keeping and 32 others.
It was not necessarily easy for me to write my story as it forced me to think back and re-live a lot of the painful experiences I went through physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Yet at the same time it felt very liberating to put my story into words onto paper. I was able to release a lot of what I was still perhaps holding onto. Many of the contributors had commented to us that through writing their story they were able to heal in a way that they had not yet healed from their experiences. For many, this was the first time that they had actually shared and expressed what they had gone through.
What I found in my cancer experience is that the medical system focused so much on my physical well-being in terms of my chemotherapy treatments and side effects such as my hair loss, constipation, mouth sores and muscle spasms just to name a few, that I did not get that much support for what I was going through mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I didn’t even know myself what I was going through on those deeper levels because I too was so focused on just trying to get through my days without physical pain or discomfort. On the days that I felt happy and strong, I didn’t want to think about anything negative I may have been burying otherwise because I just wanted to enjoy feeling good and positive in every moment possible. A good day is something every cancer patient cherishes so why bring myself down? If you’re a cancer patient or survivor reading this, my guess is that you fully understand what I’m talking about.
That is what is so special about our book. It shares real stories from real people who have gone through the cancer experience. Some are still going through it, but they are survivors. We all are. If you have a cancer story inside you that you have not come to terms with, I encourage you to share your story. Write it down. Speak it into a tape recorder and get someone else to write it if you don’t think you’re a writer. It can be very cathartic for you. Also, by sharing your story as I did and the other contributors to our book, you can help someone else. You can touch their lives. There may be just one sentence in your story that brings them a new sense of hope and determination. Sometimes that is all it takes.
If you or someone you know is going through the cancer experience, I encourage you to purchase a copy of our book. It is called, Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors available at Amazon.ca. To order you copy, please click HERE.
If you or someone you know would like to share your story for our next release of our book, please send stories to info@roslynfranken.com.
Roslyn Franken is an Ottawa Author, Speaker, Weight Loss Coach and Radio Host committed to helping people make positive changes for lasting results to how they look, feel and thrive in their lives. She is the author of The A List: 9 Guiding Principles for Healthy Eating and Positive Living, host of How to Thrive after 35 Talk Radio and co-author of Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors. For more information, visit http://www.roslynfranken.com.
Roslyn Franken is an Ottawa Author, Speaker, Weight Loss Coach and Radio Host committed to helping people make positive changes for lasting results to how they look, feel and thrive in their lives. She is the author of The A List: 9 Guiding Principles for Healthy Eating and Positive Living, host of How to Thrive after 35 Talk Radio and co-author of Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors.
I agreed to join the project. Jacquelin Holzman and Max Keeping, two well-known Ottawa personalities and other fellow cancer survivors, joined as well. The four of us formed a team to strategically get the word out and get the media on board to help us advertise that we were looking for cancer survivors to share their stories in our book. The Ottawa Citizen and the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation were instrumental in helping us to collect stories. The stories started to pour in. Each story was unique and inspiring beyond words. We ended up with a collection of 36 stories which now also includes my own story and those of Frank Hegyi, Jacquelin Holzman, Max Keeping and 32 others.
It was not necessarily easy for me to write my story as it forced me to think back and re-live a lot of the painful experiences I went through physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Yet at the same time it felt very liberating to put my story into words onto paper. I was able to release a lot of what I was still perhaps holding onto. Many of the contributors had commented to us that through writing their story they were able to heal in a way that they had not yet healed from their experiences. For many, this was the first time that they had actually shared and expressed what they had gone through.
What I found in my cancer experience is that the medical system focused so much on my physical well-being in terms of my chemotherapy treatments and side effects such as my hair loss, constipation, mouth sores and muscle spasms just to name a few, that I did not get that much support for what I was going through mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I didn’t even know myself what I was going through on those deeper levels because I too was so focused on just trying to get through my days without physical pain or discomfort. On the days that I felt happy and strong, I didn’t want to think about anything negative I may have been burying otherwise because I just wanted to enjoy feeling good and positive in every moment possible. A good day is something every cancer patient cherishes so why bring myself down? If you’re a cancer patient or survivor reading this, my guess is that you fully understand what I’m talking about.
That is what is so special about our book. It shares real stories from real people who have gone through the cancer experience. Some are still going through it, but they are survivors. We all are. If you have a cancer story inside you that you have not come to terms with, I encourage you to share your story. Write it down. Speak it into a tape recorder and get someone else to write it if you don’t think you’re a writer. It can be very cathartic for you. Also, by sharing your story as I did and the other contributors to our book, you can help someone else. You can touch their lives. There may be just one sentence in your story that brings them a new sense of hope and determination. Sometimes that is all it takes.
If you or someone you know is going through the cancer experience, I encourage you to purchase a copy of our book. It is called, Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors available at Amazon.ca. To order you copy, please click HERE.
If you or someone you know would like to share your story for our next release of our book, please send stories to info@roslynfranken.com.
Roslyn Franken is an Ottawa Author, Speaker, Weight Loss Coach and Radio Host committed to helping people make positive changes for lasting results to how they look, feel and thrive in their lives. She is the author of The A List: 9 Guiding Principles for Healthy Eating and Positive Living, host of How to Thrive after 35 Talk Radio and co-author of Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors. For more information, visit http://www.roslynfranken.com.
Roslyn Franken is an Ottawa Author, Speaker, Weight Loss Coach and Radio Host committed to helping people make positive changes for lasting results to how they look, feel and thrive in their lives. She is the author of The A List: 9 Guiding Principles for Healthy Eating and Positive Living, host of How to Thrive after 35 Talk Radio and co-author of Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Day 3: Victim to Victory
When I told her I was taking the city bus, she was mortified and insisted on being my ride. My automatic reaction was to say “No, no, that’s okay, I’m fine.” She did not let up and I finally accepted her offer. That was when I had my epiphany. It suddenly hit me that maybe she WANTED to help me. Maybe by doing this for me, it would make her feel good. I realized that I was always there to help my friends so why should I not allow them to be there for me in my time of need? Was I not worthy of their help, support and attention? I realized that by accepting her offer it did not make me weak or needy. Instead it made me human. I realized that there was absolutely no shame in receiving assistance and support from others. I did not have to walk along my path alone. I was finally able to let go.
Now as a cancer survivor who has also overcome my struggles with food, weight and poor lifestyle management, my passion is to be that person who others can rely on for help, support and encouragement in overcoming their similar food, weight and life management struggles. My message to you is you don’t have to fight your fight alone, whether it is solely with cancer or any other health and lifestyle issue you are seeking to overcome. If you are stuck in your own Pity Party, then it’s time to stop. Self-pity is only going to steal away the positive energy your spirit needs to keep your fight alive. If you are feeling alone in your fight, then reach out for help and support. Give yourself permission to share your emotions and let someone be there to simply listen or just hold you or give you the strategic insights you need to step out of your pity party and connect with your own inner strength and courage. It is okay to “feel”. If you are not doing a great job with eating properly, getting some form of regular physical activity and getting enough good quality sleep and rest, then again, reach out for help and get the help you need so that you feel you are doing whatever is in your control to fight your fight as best you can. It is not about being perfect. It is simply about doing your best and being as kind to your body, mind and spirit as you can.
www.roslynfranken.com
Now as a cancer survivor who has also overcome my struggles with food, weight and poor lifestyle management, my passion is to be that person who others can rely on for help, support and encouragement in overcoming their similar food, weight and life management struggles. My message to you is you don’t have to fight your fight alone, whether it is solely with cancer or any other health and lifestyle issue you are seeking to overcome. If you are stuck in your own Pity Party, then it’s time to stop. Self-pity is only going to steal away the positive energy your spirit needs to keep your fight alive. If you are feeling alone in your fight, then reach out for help and support. Give yourself permission to share your emotions and let someone be there to simply listen or just hold you or give you the strategic insights you need to step out of your pity party and connect with your own inner strength and courage. It is okay to “feel”. If you are not doing a great job with eating properly, getting some form of regular physical activity and getting enough good quality sleep and rest, then again, reach out for help and get the help you need so that you feel you are doing whatever is in your control to fight your fight as best you can. It is not about being perfect. It is simply about doing your best and being as kind to your body, mind and spirit as you can.
www.roslynfranken.com
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Day 2: Victim to Victory
To overcome my eating, weight and life outlook problems, I reflected back to my cancer experience to better understand the thinking and behaviour patterns I adopted to win my battle with cancer. I learned so much about myself in that time in terms of courage, faith, resilience and determination. I learned positive living strategies to fight off the negative emotions of fear, worry and anxiety that only rob you of the positive energy you need to fight the fight. Now the question was how to maintain those lessons and apply them to every area of my life for the rest of my life. That was to be the key to my healthy weight and positive lifestyle journey.
One of the key lessons I learned through my cancer experience was that my attitude of Self-Reliance was not helping me. I had always been the kind of person who didn’t like asking others for help. I always wanted to appear strong and independent and hated the idea of being a burden on others. I always felt that by asking others for help I would appear weak and needy and people wouldn’t like me that way. And so, I would prefer to do everything myself rather than reach out for help. When I found myself taking a city bus to my chemotherapy treatments because I didn’t want to ask anyone for a ride and could not afford a taxi at the time, I didn’t even think anything of it until someone asked me how I was getting to and from my treatments.
www.roslynfranken.com.
One of the key lessons I learned through my cancer experience was that my attitude of Self-Reliance was not helping me. I had always been the kind of person who didn’t like asking others for help. I always wanted to appear strong and independent and hated the idea of being a burden on others. I always felt that by asking others for help I would appear weak and needy and people wouldn’t like me that way. And so, I would prefer to do everything myself rather than reach out for help. When I found myself taking a city bus to my chemotherapy treatments because I didn’t want to ask anyone for a ride and could not afford a taxi at the time, I didn’t even think anything of it until someone asked me how I was getting to and from my treatments.
www.roslynfranken.com.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
From Victim to Victory
Age 29, vibrant and full of life, I was diagnosed with cancer - Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, Stage II. After the initial shock of this terrifying news, I knew I had a choice to make. I could either spend the next 9 months of chemotherapy treatments with all its lovely side effects in fear, feeling sorry for myself and playing the victim, or I could choose to go from fright to fight and victim to victory. I chose to fight back for victory. I never realized in that moment how the many lessons I learned through my cancer journey would help me later on with other health struggles.
Age 39, at my heaviest weight ever, and in fear for my health, I knew it was time to fight back once again, only this time to overcome my struggles with eating, weight and poor lifestyle management. To continue putting on weight was suddenly not an option. Knowing how many health problems are diet, weight and lifestyle related, such as diabetes, heart disease and many more including many forms of cancer, I had to ask myself how I could possibly continue along my unhealthy path, especially given my existing cancer history. I knew it was time to take stock of my relationship with food and how I was living my life. It was time to start doing a better job of looking after ME. I live every day knowing the possibility of my cancer coming back in one form or another, but I chose to do whatever is in my control to at least minimize the risks. For me that included gaining control of my eating, weight and outlook toward myself, others and the world around me. After all, if I could triumph over cancer, surely I could overcome my weight issues. The only reason I could think of now for how I let myself put on all those extra pounds over those years was that I was probably thinking things like “Hey, I just survived cancer, I DESERVE that piece of chocolate cake. I DESERVE that big bowl of ice cream.” I was using food as my drug of choice as so many of us do when we turn to food for comfort and solace. Well, after enough years of that thinking and that eating, it had finally caught up with me. And so my healthy eating and positive living journey began. Follow me this week as I take you through my journey.
Roslyn Franken is an Ottawa Author, Speaker, Weight Loss Coach and Radio Host committed to helping people make positive changes for lasting results to how they look, feel and thrive in their lives. She is the author of The A List: 9 Guiding Principles for Healthy Eating and Positive Living, host of How to Thrive after 35 Talk Radio and co-author of Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors. For more information, visit www.roslynfranken.com.
Age 39, at my heaviest weight ever, and in fear for my health, I knew it was time to fight back once again, only this time to overcome my struggles with eating, weight and poor lifestyle management. To continue putting on weight was suddenly not an option. Knowing how many health problems are diet, weight and lifestyle related, such as diabetes, heart disease and many more including many forms of cancer, I had to ask myself how I could possibly continue along my unhealthy path, especially given my existing cancer history. I knew it was time to take stock of my relationship with food and how I was living my life. It was time to start doing a better job of looking after ME. I live every day knowing the possibility of my cancer coming back in one form or another, but I chose to do whatever is in my control to at least minimize the risks. For me that included gaining control of my eating, weight and outlook toward myself, others and the world around me. After all, if I could triumph over cancer, surely I could overcome my weight issues. The only reason I could think of now for how I let myself put on all those extra pounds over those years was that I was probably thinking things like “Hey, I just survived cancer, I DESERVE that piece of chocolate cake. I DESERVE that big bowl of ice cream.” I was using food as my drug of choice as so many of us do when we turn to food for comfort and solace. Well, after enough years of that thinking and that eating, it had finally caught up with me. And so my healthy eating and positive living journey began. Follow me this week as I take you through my journey.
Roslyn Franken is an Ottawa Author, Speaker, Weight Loss Coach and Radio Host committed to helping people make positive changes for lasting results to how they look, feel and thrive in their lives. She is the author of The A List: 9 Guiding Principles for Healthy Eating and Positive Living, host of How to Thrive after 35 Talk Radio and co-author of Death Can Wait: Stories from Cancer Survivors. For more information, visit www.roslynfranken.com.
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