The sound of silence

I'm struggling.

It's been almost three weeks since my last chemo. I will have Herceptin #4/17 coming up this Friday.

I talked to a colleague on the phone this week and it really hit me that people will never understand what I went through. I know I've always realized this, but talking to her all of a sudden made it so clear and obvious. She is the sweetest person, but was completely clueless.

I think it made me feel so isolated and alienated from everybody else. During chemo I only had my family around me, a rare visitor every once in a while. But it was just my family who saw me at my worst. So how do you connect with people after going through something like this? I'm nervous for all those 'first time' conversations.

Life is so different for me now. I need to find balance and structure. A way to deal with everything that has happened. I am not the same person any more. I know that must be weird for other people. I understand it's hard talking to a 'sick' person as well. But I feel so alone in many ways. Cancer is like sitting on a freakin' deserted island. This is my worst nightmare and it goes in a bag pack that I have to carry with me for the rest of my life.

The only people who really get it are other people who have had or have cancer. It's good to have 'breast' friends.

So yeah it is hard for me to talk about everything that has happened. I think I'm really learning and experiencing what to tell to whom. This morning I read a quote on the Pinterest board as if it were meant to be:   

"Sometimes it’s better to keep silent than to tell others what you feel because it will only hurt you when you know they can hear you but they can’t understand."

How dementors make chemo suck

When you get cancer everything changes and you know your life will never be the same.

I would like to use this quote from Laura that describes everything just perfectly.

"Cancer changes everything in life. Cancer can be cured one minute, then it can come back and kill you. Chemo can make you infertile. Cancer slaps you around the face, kicks you in the stomach and pulls out all your hair, eyebrows and eyelashes one by one while you're still lying on the floor, too weak to move or fight back. It takes away your confidence, your lust for life. And slowly, it can take away your positivity."

Reading those words really gave me goose bumps because they hit so close to home. Because of her words and my chemo black hole experience I all of a sudden started to think about dementors.



The "soulless creatures" from the Harry Potter books. They are the guards of the wizard prison, Azkaban. They are soul-sucking fiends who, as their name suggests, cause people who encounter them for too long to lose their minds. That would explain the whole chemo brain.

Being blind, dementors hunt their prey by sensing emotions. They feed on the positive emotions, happiness, and good memories of human beings, forcing them to relive their worst memories. The very presence of a dementor makes the surrounding atmosphere grow cold and dark.
Besides feeding on positive emotions, dementors can perform the Dementor’s Kiss, where the dementor latches its mouth onto a victim's lips and sucks out the person's soul. Chemo is like meeting the dementors!

After some research on dementors (that's the kind of geek I am) I found out Rowling created the dementors after a time in her life in which she, in her own words, "was clinically depressed". Dementors really can be viewed as a metaphor for depression. I thought that was a pretty cool fact.

However, because these dementors are immortal, very few methods exist to repel one; but Harry used a Patronus Charm to shield himself and drive them away. Chocolate is an effective first aid against mild cases of contact, which may suggest a non-magical, physiological effect on a person's endorphin level.

So how to prepare for your next chemo?
1. Bring chocolate.
2. Practise your Patronus Charm (mine is a bunny of course).



It also made me realize chemo stinks. Why can it be fun? Why can't the pills be happy pills? Why can't the side effects be smiles and laughter and feelings of zen? We need some happy camper side effects such as absolutely beautiful drop-dead gorgeous hair grow. We want a huge aquarium in the middle of the room to decrease stress. We need furry white rabbits jump around. Why aren't there rainbows painted on the walls of chemo land yet? WHY?!

The art of healing

With very mixed feelings I can tell you I have only two rads left. Of course I'm happy and relieved it's almost over. But then again it's not. Because the worst is yet to come. I will meet my oncologist this week to discuss the chemo plan. It has to happen sooner or later. So rather sooner. I have been buying hats like crazy. So I think I overreacted a little. Maybe. Then again... I like to have options. So ehm, I'm expecting a package from Korea with 5 more hats. Don't tell anyone.

Something different, I really want to share this mosaic with you guys. Meet Kamina Kapow.



In 2011 Kamina (at age 29) was diagnosed with stage three colon cancer. Just like me, she had to go through radiation and chemo treatment. When feeling sad or defeated, she found comfort in friends and family, writing, and in pushing herself to go for walks and enjoy nature. The greatest place she found personal strength was in art. With whatever tiny amount of energy she had, she created the most spectacular visual images that are truly amazing to me. There for her photos are very special and inspiring to me. Art is such a beautiful escape.

Look here and read here.