Day one

On this rainy Monday morning, I begin two days of appointments. This morning I see the plastic surgeon to talk about options for my prophylactic double mastectomy. Whenever I mention this surgery, I watch people flinch. It's almost as if they're questioning the need for such an extreme procedure when I don't have breast cancer.

In my head sometimes, I wonder about its need. I think about the pain and recovery; the physical and mental adjustments. While I'm not overly attached to my breasts, they are part of me. I'm sure the whole process will affect me profoundly.

But when I explain why I'd undergo the surgery, I realize I haven't really got a choice. I have the BRCA-1 gene. It's obviously broken, and as a result, doesn't recognize cancer cells as bad and kill them - hence the ovarian cancer. Even though I've cut my risk of breast cancer in half through removal of my uterus and ovaries, it's still heart-stopping 45 per cent. And the risk only increases as I get older.

While I'm taking Olaparib, which is designed to replace the role of my broken gene, it's still experiemental. I have no guarantees. I'm praying with every fibre of my being it's the next wonder drug because then it'll keep my ovarian cancer under control. Theoretically, it would also prevent genetically induced breast cancer.

But I'm not willing to roll the dice with my life. Almost 50/50 odds are NOT acceptable to me. I don't want to have to fight breast cancer too.

So I'll seriously discuss the reconstruction options with the plastic surgeon today and make the decision that works for me.

Tina

Cancer sucks

Cancer sucks. It's that simple.

My friend Pateeta, a fellow ovarian cancer warrior, is dying. I follow her blog and watch for her daily Facebook updates to let us know she's still alive and kicking. But I can read it's getting hard for her. I feel so sad for her and her family.

My friend, Jen's dad just died from this stupid disease. From his obituary, he sounded amazing. Another bright flame snuffed.

If you can spare a prayer, put a word in with the big guy for these two families.

And I'll say it again, cancer sucks.

Tina

Med mix up

Extreme tiredness, restlessness, jitteriness, aching legs, the feeling cotton is occupying at least half my brain. That's how I feel. Why? Because I accidentally took Noah's medication at dinner last night.

I guess I'm so used to popping pills and was sufficiently distracted enough that when I grabbed Noah's meds last night, I popped them in my mouth and swallowed them. I take an acid reducer every evening at dinner and thought that's what I was consuming. But when I sat down at dinner and saw my Nexium tablet sitting by my plate, I discovered my mistake.

Noah takes two medications in the evening - a antidepressant and a mood stabilizer. I suspect, the extended-release mood stabilizer is wreaking havoc on my systems.

I tried to contact the medical oncologist on call at the Hamilton cancer centre last night, but was told by the switchboard operator to call my family doctor or go to Emergency. Right, like they could do anything for me and understand my situation. So I'm going to call my clinical trials nurse today to ask if there are any issues with taking these pills and my Olaparib. (Not that I've stopped my doses of the clinical trial drug.)

I feel the mood stabilizer is creating attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in me. Last night, I had flashing, colourful images under my eyelids when I tried to go to sleep. I've jumped from one activity and one thought to another this morning. It's very disconcerting.

To be honest, I also feel extremely self conscious. Last night, I had a couple of women over to plan an event and I couldn't sit still. I was so tired and had to force my eyes to stay open. I thought they couldn't help but notice I was acting weird. Then I wondered why they didn't say anything. I certainly didn't feel like me.

This experience makes me wonder what Noah feels like every day. I'm sure he experiences different things because the meds are designed to help his type of brain. But I'll have to compare notes with him - when I'm feeling back to normal.

Until the drugs are out of my system, I'll just do the best I can. Rest assured, this little mix up will make me be more careful with medications in the future. (I'm trying not to call myself an idiot, but that's what I feel like I am.)

Wish me luck.
Tina

Reality and balance

It's so easy to allow myself to forget; not that I have cancer, but the seriousness of ovarian cancer. But then I'll hear or read something and the reality of my situation crashes down around me again. Things like,

Most women who are diagnosed with ovarian cancer don't make it past five years.

The majority of research is done on treating ovarian cancer because by the time most women are diagnosed, it's extremely serious.

Women who have the BRCA gene mutations tend to have aggressively growing cancers.

I've lost far too many friends to ovarian cancer.

Ovarian cancer could be like a chronic disease, with a woman going through treatment 10 times or more.

Then I've read some blogs from ovarian cancer warriors who experience constant pain and have transportable pain pumps or ones inserted under their skin. I hear about hospital visits, complications and death.

Then:

1. I consider myself lucky to be where I am right now - relatively healthy and getting stronger.

2. I wonder if I'm living life to the fullest.

3. I question my priorities and how much emphasis I'm placing on certain activities - and the amount of stress I'm putting on myself.

4. I ask, "Why I can't just be kinder and more patient with myself overall."

Right now I feel normal and therefore, I forget I have a life-threatening disease. I want to be normal, but remember the lessons from fighting cancer. I want to live life to the fullest. I want to be able to balance the stress with the fun.

I guess I'm struggling with it all right now. Today, this whole situation just makes me sad.

Tina

Weary Wednesday

Wow! This working full time, trying to exercise, managing a household, schleping kids to activities and going to appointments is hard work. This is my first week back at work full time and I'm exhausted. And it's only Wednesday!

Of course, it doesn't help it's super busy at work. I can feel it in the air. It practically crackles with tension of looming deadlines and piles of work. Of course, we're all trying to feel our way around the new world, which is tiring all by itself. Uncertainty is tiring.

Speaking of uncertainty, I see Dr. H next Tuesday for my CT scan and check up. Until then, I'll have a little extra weight on my shoulders worrying about what's happening inside my body. Don't get me wrong, overall, I feel good. But one never knows.

This morning, I'm so tired I feel like crying, and only 8 a.m. I'm sure I'll make it through the day but it's going to be a long one. But I only have few meetings, so I can actually sit down and write. Stroking a couple of items off my to-do list may help my stress level.

To top it off, I feel like I'm getting a cold. That makes me unhappy.

I don't mean to complain, simply explain. As usual, I'll continue to do the best I can. It's all any of us can do.

Tina

Every dollar counts

Last night, I attended an organizing committee meeting for the Run for Ovarian Cancer. They invited team captains so we could share fundraising ideas. The committee also asked if they could help in any way.

I talked about Team Tina's souper fundraiser and everyone expressed astonishment it raised over $700. Then I talked about a few other smaller events we have planned. I also mentioned I ask almost everyone I know for a donation. I may get a no, because there are lots of worthy causes out there, but I definitely won't get a donation if I don't ask.

Although only a couple of other captains showed up last night, it was a pleasure to put names and faces to the other teams. It's a friendly competition to raise the most funds - one that I may take a little too seriously. But I am so close to this worthy cause and so desperately want a better way to deal with this disease. Besides, every dollar raised supports ovarian cancer research.

Last night we listened to one of the researchers, who discussed how the money is spent. It was interesting to learn they have competitions to earn the money, so the funding is supporting the best ideas in the city on the ovarian cancer research front.

I truly believe we're on the verge of some great breakthrough. And I'm proud to support that through my fundraising efforts.

I welcome you to join Team Tina and come out to the run on May 15. Or sponsor one of the team members. Join in the fight against ovarian cancer. Every dollar counts.

Tina

Simmering success

Who knew some steaming crock pots of soup and a bunch of hungry - and generous - folks could raise $703 for ovarian cancer research?

Yesterday, some of my work friends and I put on a "souper" event as part of Team Tina's fundraising efforts for the Run for Ovarian Cancer. I had many volunteer chefs, servers and ticket sellers/takers. Many bought tickets (or just gave donations) and enjoyed the delicious soup. A fellow cancer survivor donated a beautiful knit shawl in teal - the colour of ovarian cancer awareness - for us to raffle off.

It was an amazing success. We more than doubled the amount we raised last year and all the chefs received kudos on their soups. We also heard requests to keep doing the event because it's so much fun.

It was an amazing team effort, and I'm so very grateful for all the support.

So today I'm feeling very thankful.

Tina