A meandering road

My therapist and I started a new treatment process last week, with surprising results. We're using eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) therapy. The literature states EMDR is a powerful method of psychotherapy that helps relieve psychological distress.

Yes, I have psychological distress. Like many cancer survivors, I'm often worried and anxious about the disease's return. I was able to shove the anxiety to the back of my mind for two and a half months, but it's reared its ugly head during the past few weeks as my CT scan and doctor's appointment drew closer.

EMDR helps individuals focus on tramatic events so their brains can process them. For some people, a traumatic event becomes frozen in time and remembering it can feel as bad going through it the first time. This reaction can interfere with the way a person sees the world and relates to other people.

The emotional and logical sides of our brains aren't connected, which is why we're not always rational when we react emotionally to a situation or event. The EMDR process uses a back and forth motion - either visual or auditory - to connect the two sides of the brain so a person can logically process an emotional experience. The individual focuses on the disturbing memory and notices the subsequent thoughts, without making any effort to control direction or content.

Each person processes information uniquely, based on personal experiences and values. The back and forth motion or sound, and guided thought process continues until the memory becomes less disturbing and is associated with positive thoughts and beliefs about oneself.

Successful EMDR allows a person to remember the traumatic event, but it's less distressing. It can help with panic attacks, complicated grief, disturbing memories, phobias, eating disorders, stress reduction, addictions, abuse, etc.

When my social worker broached the subject of using EMDR to help me deal with my cancer experiences (because my traumatic episode wasn't one single incident), I figured why not. Why wouldn't I use a proven therapy that helps my brain heal itself? It couldn't hurt.

EMDR has a very specific process and rules. My social worker's been trained on this process and participated in this treatment option herself. So she's very familiar with how it works and what it feels like to be the participant.

During this treatment, I wear a set of earphones that transmits a tone to one ear and then the other (to connect the two sides of the brain). We began a couple of weeks ago by creating a safe place I can envision when I get overly stressed, to calm my emotions and thoughts. While I created its general premise while in her office, I've added details as I've used my safe place over the past few weeks. In fact, I used it during my breast MRI to deal with the discomfort and the claustrophobia. It worked like a charm.

During my last appointment, she asked me to pretend my nine month experience with cancer was a movie trailer to highlight the significant events. I did so with gusto, even talking about how the music swelled during the heartwarming parts, which made my therapist laugh. The initial image in the Tina cancer movie trailer involved the phone call when my doctor broke the news I had cancer.

I then had to identify the feeling associated with that particular memory from a list. My feeling: I am in danger. She then asked me what feeling would I identify with the end of the cancer experience. I chose: It's over. I'm safe now. Ironically, those two ideas were side by side on the list of selections.

With the earphones on and the sounds bouncing from one ear to the next, I focused on the diagnosis phone call - the doctor's words "prepare for the worst and then move on," the sounds I heard from my cube, the feelings I experienced - then let my mind wander. My therapist then stopped the sound and asked about my thoughts. They'd progressed to I couldn't leave my family, how much I love them, how scared I was.

Then I let my mind wander again with the beeping bouncing from ear to ear. She stopped me again to check in. I explained my thought process and she said, "go with that."

We followed that process about 10 times, following the thoughts my mind produced, with my therapist periodically checking in. These stops allowed me to put into words the images my mind produced, on which I'd focus for the next round.

My mind took me on an amazing journey. I made connections between thoughts, developed connections and discovered insights into myself. Quite honestly I was amazed. The experience allowed me to discover revelations about myself of which I wasn't conscious. At one point, I smiled in wonder and my therapist said, "that's the EMDR smile" - the amazed reaction to the mind revealing its hidden secrets.

One such discovery was that I wish I could be more like my blogger self. I am very honest and uninhibited when I write, yet in person I'm far more conservative and reserved. I feel like I'm two different people and I think people who read my blog expect me to be as open in person. I wish I could. When I write, I don't have to worry about the reaction - good or bad. Underneath it all I'm sure it has to do with my desire to be liked and my dislike of conflict. Besides, it's far easier to screw up in person than it is from behind my computer screen. (How's that for honesty? Crikies!)

We didn't have enough time to come to a resolution with that memory (making it less disturbing or leaving me with good feelings about myself), so it was considered an incomplete session. I think because it was incomplete, it opened me up even more to the feelings associated with the diagnosis memory, which intensified my anxiety about the results of my CT scan. My thoughts and dreams are vivid, which she warned me about, and my emotions feel out of control.

I think we're on the right path towards healing with EMDR and we did some really good work in that first session. My therapist likes EMDR because it produces results quicker than talk therapy and it helps individuals heal themselves. I'm sure we'll continue at our next session.

I'm convinced after one session that we're on the right track. I'm eager to discover more about myself during the next appointment.

Tina

Enough already

Oh God has a strange sense of humour sometimes. On the day I decided I was going to be more positive, life went to hell in a handbasket.

I'll freely admit that I was angry with God yesterday morning. My day had barely begun when I got a distressed call from Michael asking me about the symptoms of a stroke or heart attack. When I said, blurred vision, headache, weakness, inability to speak and he answered yes to all of them, I quickly blurted, "Go to emerg right now." Luckily, he works at St. Joe's, so it was a quick trip to the urgent care centre.

His left arm was numb, he had trouble breathing, a headache appeared, he had weakness and had to sit down, and his vision went black. He didn't pass out and the symptoms passed quite quickly, but he (and I) were very scared.

It turns out Michael didn't suffer a stroke or heart attack. The doctor thinks he had a reaction to all the stress he's under (work, me, Noah, etc.). So he's off for a few days and has some follow up doctor's appointments to better determine if there's a medical cause.

So I'm on my way to meet him at the hospital when the school calls. Noah was in trouble and they wanted me to come to the school immediately for a meeting. I had to say no because of Michael's medical issues.

Of course, I couldn't mention Noah's problems to Michael in the hospital, so it wasn't until I dropped him off at home that I mentioned I needed to go to the school. I met with the principal and Noah, and then brought Noah home. Unless I hear otherwise, Noah can return to school tomorrow but he's suspended today. (FYI - You don't swear at a teacher in front of witnesses because it's cause for immediate suspension.)

Needless to say, once I got Michael and Noah settled at home, I had to log onto my work laptop. Luckily, I had a long stretch of time focus, so my work day wasn't a complete writeoff. Thank goodness for a flexible schedule.

It's amazing how focusing on other problems made me stop thinking about my own. Of course, the fearfulness is back today. I've looked up the symptoms for ovarian cancer recurrence and I feel some of them. Is is psychosomatic? Is the bloaty feeling due to a virus? Am I just fat? At this point, I just want to know so I can go into fighter mode or carry on with normal life.

The wait is killer. Do I prepare myself to hear to worst (the cancer is back) so I'm not shocked. Or do I focus on being positive because it can help my body (or is it too late for that?)?

Or am I just crazy? Some days I feel that way.

But enough of that. Whatever happens, it IS going to be okay. Michael will be okay. I will be okay. We'll get through this one day at a time. I have faith (obviously, I'm not mad at God anymore).

Tina

Positive thoughts

In an effort to be positive, today I'm going to focus on some of the good things about me and my life. Hopefully positive repetition will make my mind believe and take some of the focus off the symptoms (real or imagined?) that prompt me to think the cancer is back.

1. I am strong physically and mentally. Even though I'm in a bit of an emotional dip right now, I know my strength exists and can be pulled out whenever needed. I beat cancer. I will continue to beat cancer. I am a cancer fightin' woman, don't mess with me.

2. I have the most wonderful husband in the world. We're going to grow old together and enjoy all life has to offer. I love him beyond reason.

3. I have great family and caring friends who love me. Their (your) prayers and positive thoughts will keep the cancer away. (Bye bye cancer. Not in my house!)

4. My mom is going to beat cancer too. She'll have surgery on Feb. 19 and then maybe some preventative chemo. Then she can say bye bye cancer too!

5. I will take my healthy, albeit pudgey, body to Florida to enjoy sunshine, swimming and fun in six weeks.

6. I have a great job with very supportive people. Who could ask for more?

7. I write well. I enjoy finding the right words to express myself on paper. I'm lucky because it helps me and others. (Now if I could only find a publisher. . .)

8. Chocolate. I'm thankful for it and its stress-reducing properties. Enough said.

9. God loves me - even with my faults and insecurities. He fills me with light.

10. I beat cancer once (and that's more than enough). It's going to stay away. I'm going to get good news from Dr. W on Tuesday. He's going to say the shadowy sections in my abdomen are scar tissue. I'm going to get a clean bill of health and be able to move on mentally and physically.

Of course, I'm focusing on #10. We can all do a dance of joy when it comes true.

Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts. I'm banking on positive thoughts creating a positive reality.

Tina

Radioactive juice

The radioactive juice I had to drink for my CT scan yesterday didn't agree with my body. I felt the battle between the two begin about 10 minutes after I finished drinking the required 1.5 L of "enriched" water yesterday. My stomach and bowels started churning and I made frequent trips to the bathroom.

It's amazing how my body reacted differently during each of the three CT experiences. The first time I drank the CT juice, my bowels kicked up a fuss in the evening. The second time, no reaction whatsoever. This time, my whole body got into the act. My stomach experienced a constant dull pain, my bowels growled, my muscles ached, my eyes felt like they'd sunk into their sockets and my head pounded. I even experienced a metallic taste, which reminded me of my chemotherapy days.

I couldn't work, so I went home and slept.

I don't feel 100 per cent today. I still have a headache and some slight stomach pain, and I'm extremely tired. But I feel a lot better than yesterday, so I'm going to work.

I'm not sure these reactions are all due to the CT juice or if I have a touch of that virus that's circulating. I may also be physically reacting to the stress of my churning mind. But this too shall pass and so I carry on.

The CT itself went smoothly and the actual scan time was quick (especially after the MRI). They scanned me a few times with just the radioactive water as contrast. Then they inserted an additional dye via IV and took a few more pictures.

The IV constrast produces a disconcerting warm feeling that travels through the body. My ears start to burn, then I feel my torso get warm and then it feels as though I've peed my pants. It's over in a few seconds, but it's a bit disconcerting. (At least I was warned about the experience before my first CT or I truly would have believed I'd peed myself.)

Now I wait for the results, which I'll get one week from today. It's going to be a long week.

Tina

Indulgence and forgiveness

I haven't been myself for about a week now. And I fear it's going to get worse before it gets better. So I'm asking you for your indulgence and forgiveness.

Today I go for my follow-up CT scan. I'm not fearful of the scan itself - even though I drink radioactive dye, have more dye squirted into me via IV and then slide through a spinning machine. That's a piece of cake. It's the results of that machine that I fear - the return of cancer. The news that, despite my best efforts, I didn't beat it.

I won't find out the results until next Tuesday. It's going to be a long, dread-filled week.

I'm trying to be positive, but for some reason, I can't seem to dig it out of the depths of my soul right now. It's ironic because even during those months I spent fighting cancer, most of the time I felt emotionally stronger than I do right now.

I've been an emotional wreak for over a week now. I think re-living my diagnosis experience in therapy only made it worse (before it gets better?). I'm filled with dread, I feel anxious and I'm having strange dreams.

So, my friends, I'm asking for a little leeway for the next week or so. I may not be quite myself. I beg your tolerance.

Tina

Whine, whine, whine

Now that I have some endorphins coursing through my body, bent the ear of some sympathetic friends and was given a logical explanation of why I feel completely irrational, I can now shove Mr. Hyde back into the dark space from which he came.

A friend's email reminded me some cancer survivors experience post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), not only from the actual diagnosis but from the series of treatments and events associated with cancer. In fact, my social worker and I have discussed this phenomenon a couple of times.

To be diagnosed with PTSD, a person must have experienced a traumatic life event where:

- The person experienced, witnessed, or was confronted with an event where there was the threat of/or actual death or serious injury. The event may also have involved a threat to the person's physical well-being or the physical well-being of another person.

- The person responded to the event with strong feelings of fear, helplessness, or horror.

Check and check.

PTSD in cancer survivors may be expressed in these specific behaviors:

- Reliving the cancer experience in nightmares or flashbacks and by continuously thinking about it.
- Avoiding places, events, and people connected to the cancer experience.
- Being continuously overexcited, fearful, irritable and unable to sleep.

While I try not think about the cancer and its chance of recurrence, I know deep down, it's often in the back of my head. Every twinge makes me wonder. I'm fearful and sometimes irritable. I take lorazepam to help me sleep.

In addition, I've been talking about mastectomies, my mom's cancer and my upcoming appointment for a CT scan to re-examine those shadowy spots that appeared on my last scan.

To top it off, my social worker and I started a new treatment on Tuesday where I mentally re-lived the phone call where I learned I had cancer, and the feelings and thoughts associated with that. So technically, I was relieving my diagnosis.

So now that I understand why I feel like a freaking mess, I'm better able to deal with it. I appreciate your tolerance and understanding. Maybe tonight I'll turn whine into wine. Doesn't that sound better?

Tina

Mr Hyde morning

The Mr. Hyde of my emotions crawled out of bed this morning. Based on the day so far (and it's still very early), I should have stayed in bed. I woke up grumpy and irritated. As the morning progressed, I got more grumpy and irritated. I now have a headache from crying and want to crawl under my desk for the rest of the day.

The morning started with a bunch of little irritations: someone in my house depleted the school treats without my knowledge, I had trouble finding something satisfactory to wear that didn't make me feel like an elephant, the conversation of the kids (as always) sounded like they were arguing, waffles ended peanut butter and nutella side down on the kitchen floor, etc.

Then the morning progressed downhill when Noah provoked disagreements with Michael. For some reason, Noah omits information or argues with Michael's requests. It pushes Michael's buttons and he gets angry. The result: two males yelling at each other. Me, as a fixer, tries to intervene. But I can't fix the underlying problem. They have to work it out.

So I talked to Noah and explained I feel he's purposefully pushing Michael's buttons. He's acting like the kids at school, who know he's bipolar and do things they know will make him angry to get him in trouble.

For example, Michael gets upset when Noah's room is messy for too long, so he asks him to clean it up. When that doesn't happen, Michael asks a couple more times and then gets angry (with good reason) when Noah doesn't comply. But Noah doesn't volunteer that he and I made a deadline of 5:30 this evening. When Michael gets angry, Noah says, "Talk to mom." So Michael gets frustrated and comes to me to complain about Noah's non-compliance.

So I had a little talk with Noah this morning and told him he's not respecting his dad when he doesn't volunteer information that would satisfy Michael's requests. Noah promised to try harder. We'll see if that works.

I know all of this is such small potatoes. No one is injured, dead or in the hospital because of what happened in my house this morning. We aren't involved in a natural disaster like those in Haiti. It's normal, every day, family stuff. In fact, I now feel silly this is affecting me so much.

But I'm tired, which only exacerbates the situation. Yet my tiredness isn't due to lack of sleep because I retire early enough. I'm guessing it's due to the weather and stress. I feel like I'm in a vice that is slowly squeezing me. Argh!

It's amazing I can go from being so positive one day, to down in the dumps the next. My emotional roller coaster keeps on chugging. But that's life so, I'm not alone in this experience. I'll just keep taking it one day at a time.

Tina