Palliative Care: An Option Worth Considering

Many with stage IV hate the comment, ‘Well, you don't look sick at all!' This both implies that I should look weak and sad all the time. And since I don't, I'm throwing off their expectations of what someone with cancer should look like.

This cancer has been an odd gift, opening my eyes to the beauty in the little everyday things in life. Slow down, pause, savor it. Repeat. … The more I pray for it and practice, the easier it gets.

The corner … I lived in fear of looking around it for nearly 5 years. Over time, I've learned how to live more fully present instead of worrying about the perceived future.

It's about facing one's mortality while trying to keep the courage to continue on for your family. It's like walking through mud with high heels on. You slip and fall and then you get up and try again, over, and over, and over. Sometimes you stay down for a while, sometimes someone throws you a rope to help, but the mud is always there.

People often tell me, "Well, you should do this or you should do that." There's no right or wrong answer on how we deal with this disease. I've learned to deal with it on my own terms and in my own way. I continue to let my faith guide me, and I continue to lean on my family and friends for support.

Bring a support person to your first appointment to take notes and listen. Learn all you can on reputable websites. Breathe. Gather your inner circle of supportive friends and lean on them. It’s OK to be mad as hell. There will be good and bad days. On bad days, think of the good ones just around the corner.

For a very long time, I didn’t accept it. When I finally did, I stopped worrying about things that were beyond my control and I started enjoying life. Having MBC has given me a new purpose through my advocacy work with Metavivor’s Serenity Project. I want women to stand on my shoulders of hope and love.

I always feel better when I’m rested. I sleep 10-12 hours many days. Smiling and having a good sense of humor makes difficult situations better. I don’t worry about small things anymore. Meditation, music, and massages help. I also cope by coloring and sewing, when I have the energy.

In addition to treatment, I do daily meditation, which calms my body as well as my mind. I find it to be very peaceful. I also find walking and yoga to be a form of relaxation -- and it’s healthy. I call it ‘doing my homework.’ The drugs are doing their job, and it’s my responsibility to take care of me.

When I was first diagnosed, I was in shock. Getting information helped. My husband and children helped by listening and allowing me to cry when I needed to. I also formed a support group at my hospital. Talking as a group and forming friendships is very helpful. We all know what each of us is going through.

Ask family and friends for help and support. It’s so easy to want to try to do it all, but people really do want to help you. You’ll need every ounce of strength you have, so let people bring meals and clean your house if they want to. For many, it’s how they show they love and care about you.

Put your energy elsewhere, in a better place. I got involved with new challenges that inspired me. I joined a new company. I got involved with the Cashmere Foundation, which brings the spa experience to patients undergoing chemotherapy. I feel I’m able to pay back, or perhaps pay it forward, while helping others.

Within the past 14 years, I’ve been on chemo and hormone therapy. The part that gives me hope is new drugs and therapies are more abundant then 20 years ago, with more to come. Every day, breast cancer is my shadow, but is not my life.

Be your own advocate. If you have a question for your doctor and don’t understand the answer, ask again. If it’s difficult to speak up, ask a relative or friend to go with you. If you’re not comfortable with your doctor or the treatment she recommends, get a second opinion.

Swimming helps my whole body relax and relieves my aching bones. Reaching and pulling strokes stretch out and massage my arm. Yoga keeps my breathing calmer, and I use techniques I learn in class to help me go to sleep at night.

Celebrate small successes. It’s about progress towards wellness, not an all-or-nothing scenario. After surgery, it was a while before I could drive. The day I got back in the driver’s seat, I drove myself to the beach. I remember sitting on a bench for an hour, reveling in the joy of taking my life back.