Fighting My Way

           I’m sitting in the chair at chemo listening to music while the chemo drips into me.  As Grace Slick’s “Let It Go” was playing I was struck by a thought.  She refers to people telling her how she should sing a song.  She says she doesn’t care how others say she should sing.  She is going to sing whatever way she feels.  This song has always been important to me.  It has been an integral part of my battle with depression. Grace’s lyrics in this song have stopped me from attempting suicide in the past.  

Now in my cancer battle, the lyrics take on new meaning.  Sometimes I think I am supposed to feel a certain way because I have cancer.  I wonder if people are thinking I’ve got to fight a certain way.  I see people feeling sorry for me.  These feelings belong to other people.  No one can feel what I am experiencing.  My feelings are my feelings.  I’m going to experience them in my own unique way.  This battle is mine.  I will feel it in different ways.  I will be able to fight at times.  Honestly, I hope I can fight most of the time.  Realistically, I know there will be times when I don’t feel like fighting.  That’s okay.  This battle is going to take me on a roller coaster.

I appreciate others trying to understand, but in reality, only I can comprehend what I am going through.  I have contradictory thoughts as I mentioned the other day.  Those are difficult for others to understand.  Just the other day I told someone that I have accepted my bald head, but when I look in a mirror my reflection screams “cancer” back at me.  The person questioned how both can be true. How can I have accepted my hair loss and still hear cancer screamed at me when I see my reflection? That is the contradiction at work.  I have two illnesses, depression and cancer, vying for my attention.  They have different agendas.  These two illnesses each affect me in their own ways.  I respond to each differently. So, I will battle my way.  I will feel what I feel wholly and deeply.  I will react in whatever way I need to.  Like Grace Slick singing her songs whatever way she feels, I am going to fight depression and cancer whatever way I feel.  I can’t predict how this battle will end, but I must let everything go and fight the way I feel is right for me.

I ask that all of you continue to support me as I fight.  Know that even if I don’t always say it, having you by my side means a lot and is truly helping me.  Know that I am fighting the best way I know how.  Today a wise coaching colleague reminded me of Jimmy Valvano’s words, “Don’t’ give up, don’t ever give up!” That is how I am going to fight. I needed those words today.  Thank you, Coach. 

Whispers Above the Water

             Today’s post is a poem I wrote this weekend.  Writing in general, and poetry in particular, has always been healing for me.  It has been one of my coping strategies throughout my battle with depression.  Now, I am writing to deal with both the depression and the cancer.  Writing allows me to get the thoughts out of my head and onto paper.  This makes them concrete, which allows me to process them in a more productive manner.  

            I share this poem today to express what I am going through.  I hope that others find strength in my words.  If you would like to read more of my poetry, I have published four books of poetry and a memoir.  Check them out at your local bookstore or Amazon.  Just search for my name. There are also links on my website www.ginacapobianco.com.  

            One of my friends mentioned that maybe there is a book waiting to be written in the journey I am now on.   Who knows? Maybe I will find my way to write that book.  

 

 

Whispers Above the Water

 

The ebb and flow of emotions.

The ripples become waves at times.

I try to hang on,

Ride each wave out,

But the emotions are powerful.

Their intensity overwhelms me.

I consider letting go,

Allowing the waves to drown me.

Something within me whispers.

I hear a faint voice telling me to grab hold.

The voice whispers that

It is not my time.

I reach through the waves, 

Grab on to hope.

The voice grows stronger.

I hear it emanating from within me.

The voice echoes around me,

“Don’t give up!”

I am buoyed by the words.

Now, my head above the waves,

Battle gear in place,

I am now ready to fight.

 

Contradictory Thoughts: Life and Death

           As I sit here receiving my weekly dose of the chemo that will hopefully kill my cancer and allow me to live, my mind is swirling with thoughts.  These thoughts create a contradiction between wanting to live and thinking death would be a welcomed end to the physical and emotional pain I am experiencing.  This contradiction weighs on me, keeps me awake at night and drags me down at other times.  I believe I can fight at the same time I think about giving up.  I am filled with contradictory thoughts.

            It is similar to the chemo that flows into me through an IV in my right arm.  A medication that is intended to kill as it heals me.  Is it any wonder that my mind is full of similar contradictions?

            Two illnesses bear down upon me, depression and cancer.  They feed off each other to create the contradiction.  The depression brings on the thoughts of suicide. The thoughts just pop into my mind. Often, there is a trigger. Sometimes the trigger is the frustration with the coverage my health insurance provides.  Other times my anger at having cancer turns inward.  In these moments I question if I can fight.  Still, in other moments there is the fear of a painful death from cancer that call for those suicidal thoughts.  

            How is it possible to have thoughts of suicide when I am fighting for my life?  A contradiction has been created.  Two illnesses battling for my attention.  Depression longs to give me a sense of control.  It wants to control my death, but cancer makes its voice heard.  Reminds me how much it is in control.  I want to beat cancer, fight it with all I have.  The contradiction is about control.  The depression wants to control.  The breast cancer wants to control.  In the midst of their battle, I long for control over both.  

            Suicidal thoughts have plagued me since my teenage years.  It is a battle I know well. We dance the dance, depression and me.  Perhaps as S, my psychiatric nurse practitioner, says the suicidal thoughts have become an automatic response.  Depression has programmed my mind to repeat those thoughts.  It makes sense.  The thoughts have haunted me for decades, yet I am still here battling.  The thoughts vie for my attention, beg me to act on them.  Now, unfortunately, or is it fortunately, they have a new opponent.  Cancer.

            Depression no longer has my full attention.  It is angry and attempts to make its voice heard. Cancer screams over it. Informs me it has joined the fray.  With the cancer my fears rise.  I am afraid I will die. I am afraid cancer has the control.  

            Despite the thoughts depression brings, I am afraid of dying.  I want to live.  I want to take away cancer’s control.  I realize I have a lot to live for.  The cancer angers me.  I wonder, “Why me? Why do I have to battle two illnesses?” The contradiction is front and center.  As I battle I realize that the contradiction will continue. At times the suicidal thoughts will occupy my mind despite my longing to survive cancer.  The contradiction does not mean I am crazy.  Rather it is a result of battling two intensely strong illnesses simultaneously.  I need to accept what I am going through.  It is a part of the battle.  Hopefully, depression and cancer picked the wrong person for their feud.  

My friend, Sharon, told me to listen for the whisper.  Maybe that whisper is my true voice.  I think it is telling me to stand up to depression and cancer.  The whisper is telling me to fight.  I can overcome the contradiction and live. 

Fighting for Quality Healthcare

            Navigating healthcare is not an easy process. I’ve learned this with both my mental illness and cancer.  I don’t understand why it has to be so difficult.  I have what is supposed to be good health insurance, but I frequently find myself on the phone with the insurance company or the medical group that makes the decisions as to what will be paid for and where I will be treated.  It’s frustrating.

            As a patient I trust my medical providers.  When my psychiatrist, oncologist, or primary care order something I expect it to be covered.  They are the ones who know what I need.  They are the ones with the medical degrees.  How can an insurance company who is looking out for their bottom line know better? In dealing with my two diagnoses, I am learning more about how the system works and I don’t like it.  Hence, this post is born of my frustration.  I share my experience here because I want to encourage others to stand up the way I am trying to do.  As patients we have a voice.  It is time we are heard.

            I’ll start with my mental health.  When my psychiatrist determined that medication was not working for my depression, she recommended transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) as a treatment.  (More on what TMS is and how it works in a later post.) In order to get TMS treatment, we had to prove that medications didn’t work.  We had to show that I had tried several medications without relief of my symptoms.  I had to get my primary care to refer me because the insurance company said my psychiatrist was not enough.  What kind of BS is that?  My psychiatrist is the expert.  Her statement should have been enough.  TMS works for me, but every time I need it, we have to convince the insurance company.  We must follow their guidelines on when and how many treatments I can have.  My psychiatric nurse practitioner oversees the treatment.  She knows what I need, but we must defer to the insurance company.  God forbid they spend too much for my relief from depression.  TMS works.  There shouldn’t be a need to continuously okay it with the insurance company.  

            My health insurance also insists on three-month medication supplies.  When my depression is bad and I am having suicidal thoughts, overdosing on pills is where my mind goes.  I know it.  My psych team knows it.  I asked my insurance company if my prescriptions could be one-month supplies to protect me. Instead of the required three-month supplies.  They fought me on it.  I had to prove that I had suicidal thoughts.  I had to threaten a grievance if they didn’t relent and allow me to have only one month of medication at a time.  All my doctors agreed that this was best for me, but the insurance company was considering their bottom line.  I finally told them that they would be responsible if I took an overdose.  That finally persuaded them to agree to one-month supplies at time, but they would only agree to that for a year.  Then I must request it again. 

            I was able to stand up for myself, but it was not easy.  I cried a lot.  My anxiety level was high.  I doubted myself.  I felt like giving up.  Luckily for me, I have a good team around me who encouraged and guided me.  Someone with a mental illness shouldn’t have to fight that hard.  It takes most of my energy to fight the illness alone without the added need to fight an insurance company.

            Cancer decided to enter my life.  I thought a physical illness would be easier to address than a mental illness, but I have found the insurance company and the medical group putting up roadblocks here, too.  First, they sent me to an oncologist who was not what I considered high quality.  Despite my primary putting in the request to send me to a higher-level facility, I was sent to this first doctor.  My cousin is an attorney.  She stepped in and helped me make the calls to my medical group that were necessary to get a second opinion and ultimately better care.  Not everyone has a cousin who can do that.  It is not fair that I had to take that step.  I was making these calls while feeling like crap and being scared.  If my cousin hadn’t been by my side, I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.  Why did I have to fight so hard?  

            I realize the first oncologist was a doctor and could treat me, but his care was lacking.  He spent maybe 15 minutes with me.  He said I had metastatic breast cancer.  I had to ask what my prognosis was.  He merely said it was fair.  What the hell does that mean?  His assistant said I was at stage 4.  I thought I was going to die.  I looked at my aunt, who was with me, and wondered how long I had to live.  This was my first time seeing an oncologist.  I didn’t know I could expect more until my primary care and my cousin helped me push for a second opinion.  When I saw the doctor for the second opinion I was amazed at the difference in care.  She spent about an hour with me.  She explained every aspect of my diagnosis.  She told me I wasn’t dying.  She explained that while my cancer is not curable, it is treatable.  This doctor explained what that meant.  Her explanation provided me with hope.  Hope is something every cancer patient needs.  I immediately knew that this was the doctor I needed providing my care.  

            Unfortunately, my medical group disagreed.  They said this oncologist was out of network and that I didn’t need her level of care.  I was angry and exasperated.  Again, I relied on my cousin.  She helped me stand up and use my voice.  I pushed back.  I threatened to file a grievance.  They knew I had an attorney on my side, and they didn’t want to mess with that, so they conceded to let me be treated by the second oncologist.  Still, they insisted on their terms.  I could be treated by this oncologist and receive treatment under her guidance at her facility, but blood work and other tests had to be done in the medical group’s network.  It was the only way I could get the care I needed.  So, the agreement was signed.

            On the surface it seems okay, but it causes difficulty.  I still need to push the medical group.  I am always on guard, ready to fight for my care.  Why do they make it so difficult to receive quality care?  It shouldn’t be this hard.  When we are ill, we need help from our medical group and insurance company.  We don’t need them putting barriers in the way of quality care.  I have spent so much energy fighting to get the care that I need, how am supposed to have the energy remaining to fight the illness.  I am grateful that I have had my aunt and cousin by my side in this battle.  It is what has allowed me to successfully battle, but I shouldn’t need to rely on them.  Insurance companies and medical groups need to place patient care ahead of profit.  As patients, we need to recognize that we have a voice in our care.  Those of us who have the ability to use our voices need to stand up.  We will help ourselves and help others in the process.

            I will continue battling depression and breast cancer.  Right now, I can’t predict whether I will win the fight, but I can guarantee that I will fight with all I have inside of me.  I’ll continue to use my voice as much as I can.  I ask that those of you reading this consider using your voice to help me and others in the similar situations.  Keep reading my blog.  I’ll continue to share my story.  I’ll continue to use my voice. I’ll continue to fight.

 

 

The Importance of Relationships in Mental and Physical Illness

            For most of my life quality relationships have eluded me.  The depression kept my relationship on a surface level.  I don’t think I have ever had a deep relationship.  Most of that is my fault.  I resisted having relationships out of fear that my depression would get in the way.  I didn’t want to bring the darkness of depression into someone else’s life.  It is one of my regrets in life. Unfortunately, it is a part of mental illness. Many of us experience difficulty with relationships.  Many of us hide from those who could support us.  

            Now that I have a physical illness, breast cancer, and I am experiencing the importance of relationships.  It makes me realize all that I have missed because of my depression.  So, I would like to explore the importance of relationships in dealing with any illness. 

            I always thought I was alone.  I battled depression alone except for my mental health team.  Dr. K, Dr. S, and S have been by my side.  Even though it is their job they have always supported me. I know how important that is.  It makes a difference.  Unfortunately, as valuable as it is to have them it is not enough.  They are the only ones who really understand what I was going through.  They are the only ones I can explain things to and not feel like a fool.  They are still with me as cancer has been added to my battle.  I know they are on the journey with me for the long haul and I appreciate that immensely.  

            Cancer has brought others to my journey.  It is overwhelming, in a good way, how many people are supporting me.  Relationships I didn’t realize I had have emerged as stronger than I could have imagined. People are offering to help.  People ask how I am doing, make sure I have everything I need.  Cancer is a different illness than depression.  People are more familiar with seriousness and deadliness of cancer in a way they are not about depression.  I am grateful to have the support and the emerging relationships. Let me share a bit about some of them.  I won’t be able to mention everyone.  This post would go on too long and I’d lose your interest, but I want to highlight a few.

            I think relationships come in different types.  There are familial relationships, friendships, acquaintances, and care providers.  I have experienced a growth in all four.  

            I’ll start with family.  My mother, K, has been supportive while battling her own cancer and other illnesses.  She lives a couple hours away and is not able to visit, but she checks on me every day.  Whenever I mention a problem, something arrives from Amazon the next day to help.  My hair being on everything was driving me nuts.  I told her and the next day lint brushes were at my doorstep.

            My Aunt Holly, who you met in my hair funeral post, has been by my side through all the medical appointments and has taken care of me after treatments.  She has been wonderful.  She is such a caring person and an amazing resource.  I am so grateful to have her fighting with me.

            My cousin, S, has helped me with all the insurance battles and other technical aspects like my advanced directive.  She has been there to love me and let me know that I am loved.  We’ve walked on the beach, which was peaceful.  My cousin, N, checks on me via text several times a week.  I am grateful for his messages. 

            My brother, T, has stepped forward in a way I didn’t expect.  I didn’t know where I stood with him.  I don’t think we’ve ever been close.  He has a family and a life to live, but he has been very supportive and caring.  He was there when I received the diagnosis.  I wasn’t expecting him until later that morning, but when I walked out of my primary’s office, he was waiting in the parking lot.  That meant a lot.  Last week when I told him I was struggling with the hair loss, he took off his baseball hat and gave it to me.  I had to fight back tears.  It was a welcomed gestured.

            My aunt, C, came down from the Sacramento area to stay with me and help me.  I was grateful for her presence.  She did a lot for me. It’s hard to need so much help, but I know I need it right now.  She plans on coming back.  That is comforting to know. 

            Friends have been wonderful.  I have too many to mention all of them here. I appreciate S sharing her own experiences with cancer with me.  She is someone I can just talked to openly about the cancer.  I rely on that.  Sh and C have supported me with visits and help with necessities.  M and J check on me.  M is leading the way with updating colleagues from the school I just left.  Those colleagues have been great.  Many have reached out.  M is organizing a way for them to help me.  I am grateful for this.  I thought I was just another teacher, but my colleagues care about me.  I cherish their care. 

            SR keeps me going with her messages and inspiration.  I miss hanging out with her and listening to music.  

            P is my rock.  Talking to her makes me feel more positive in this battle.  I know it must be difficult for her to see me going through this after losing C to cancer.  Yet, she is supporting me and knows just what to say to make me feel better. 

            People I went to elementary school and high school have reached out.  It’s amazing that people from so long ago are reaching out.  Social media allows those types of relationships to exist.  It lets me know that people care about me even if we haven’t seen each other in decades.

            Relationships with medical providers is also an important aspect of the battle with illness.  They play a crucial role and how a person relates to them is important.  I’ve already mentioned my psych team.  My primary care, C, has been great.  When the signs of a problem first emerged, she didn’t hesitate to act.  She made sure she was the one who gave me the diagnosis.  That was vitally important to me.  I couldn’t have handled hearing it from someone else.  Her support has been important.  She is there for me when I need her.  I think that is what a primary care provider is supposed to do.  They need to understand their patients and be the conduit to other providers.  C has been that and more.  Her nurse, H, has been immensely supportive.  I am grateful to her for being supportive and making sure I have access to everything I need.

            I had to fight to get care at the facility I am at now.  I am so grateful that I fought.  My oncologist, Dr. St, is amazing.  She is understanding and supportive.  She explains everything clearly and doesn’t mind repeating when I don’t comprehend.  Being in her care is going to make a difference because she understands that the relationship is just as important as the treatment she provides.  Her nurse, C, is someone I feel really connected to.  She makes me smile and she understands firsthand what I am going through.  Her little dances remind me that I can beat this cancer.  The whole staff in Dr. St’s office provides relationship-based care.  They make me feel safe and provide top-notch care.

            A couple people have even shared their cancer stories in the comments on this blog.  Those made me realize I am not alone.  Thank you for sharing.  

            I share these relationships to remind readers that there are more relationships in our lives than we realize.  People do care.  It took a serious illness for me to realize it.  I wish I had made this realization without cancer.  Unfortunately, cancer is the hand I’ve been dealt.  With the relationships that have emerged in my life, I am going to be able to fight.  I am not alone.  There is no way I can fight cancer alone.  It is scary and overwhelming.  I need the relationships to help me battle.  Thank you to all who are by my side.  You are appreciated more than you know.

            Check back next week.  I intend to write about some of the issues I see in the health care system and offer my thoughts on what can be done. 

 

A Funeral for My Hair

            Cancer is changing the way I look at things.  It has taken a lot from me already.  At the same time, it has given me a few things, like a new perspective on life. This new perspective is affecting how I look at some of the losses.  My hair is one example.  Before my cancer diagnosis I had long, curly hair that often drove me nuts because I’ve never had the patience to style it.  Now, I’ve lost that hair.  My initial reaction was shock and sadness. I wasn’t expecting to lose my hair so quickly.  I’m balding in spots and have short wisps in other spots.  A glance in the mirror screams, “I have cancer!”

            Last Thursday some of the wisps became matted.  I told my Aunt Holly that I couldn’t stand seeing it or feeling it. So, she gently cut it off for me.  We were about to throw it away when Aunt Holly asked if I wanted to have a funeral for my hair.  My initial reaction was no.  I didn’t want to deal with anything.  A moment later the hair funeral struck me as a good idea.  Why not? What have I got to lose? The hair is not coming back. Why not say goodbye to it?

            Aunt Holly found a fancy box.  She put the wad of my hair in it and adorned it with a pretty bow.  We went out in her yard and found a rock to use as a headstone.  For an epitaph I wrote, “Here lies Gina’s hair. F*** cancer! 9/7/23.”

            We found a spot in her garden. Aunt Holly dug a hole.  She placed the box with my hair in the hole along with some flowers.  She covered the hole, and we placed the headstone over it.  Now, a funeral needs music.  So, I played “Come Sail Away” by Styx.  We stood silently and listened and listened as the song “carried away” my hair.  

            My hair funeral was cathartic. I felt a release of the sense of loss that had been building up inside of me.  There was a sense of peace.  I knew my hair was just an object, a piece of me, but not the whole of me.  Its loss is just part of the healing process. The chemo caused my hair to fall out, but it is that same poison that is killing the cancer.  I must take the bad with the good.  Maybe my hair will grow back.  Maybe it won’t and I’ll just have to go with a new style.  I’m trying to be optimistic about it.  I can’t change it.  I can fight the cancer.  Losing my hair is part of the fight.  

            I am grateful to my Aunt Holly.  She helped me gain a different perspective on my loss.  I need to try to face things with a sense of humor and a sense of acceptance.  Having a funeral for my hair provided both.  Having my aunt by my side while at the funeral helped.  I know I am not fighting alone.  In fact, relationships have emerged as an important part of my battle against cancer.  Relationships with family, friends, doctors, and medical staff are all important aspects of my battle to heal.   My next post will address the importance of relationships.  Check back in a few days.  I will post after my next round of chemo in a couple days as long as I am feeling up to it.  As I mentioned before, I am not giving up on this blog.  

A Scary Experience and Some Wise Words

            On Wednesday I had my second chemo treatment.  This time I was at a better facility with the doctor I fought my insurance company to be sent to.  It is so amazing to be with the right doctor.  I don’t use names in my posts, but this Dr. S is so much better than the first one.  She explains everything and is so empathetic.  

            The environment for the chemo was safe and comforting.  The nurses were kind and knowledgeable.  They kept me at ease.  My aunt, a retired nurse was allowed to stay with me unlike at the first place. It was comforting to have her by my side.

            Unfortunately, I had a severe allergic reaction to the third bag of medication.  I suddenly had chest pain and my chest became tight.  I turned to my aunt to ask what was happening.  She noticed immediately and told me to press the call button.  I could hear her saying it and I could see the button, which the nurse had jokingly called “The Oh Crap Button” earlier.  My brain couldn’t process what she was saying.  My aunt quickly pressed the button and suddenly three nurses jumped into action.  The doctor was by my side quickly.  By this point my condition had worsened.  My jaw felt like it was in a vise grip. I had turned bright red.  I felt hot and my back hurt.  As the doctor was reassuring me, she directed the actions of the nurses ensuring I received the medications to reverse the reaction.  The doctor explained everything that was happening.  I was worried that this was going to be a setback and would hinder my healing.  She assured me that it would not.  She stopped the treatment for the day.  I go back next week to try again with another chemo medication.  

            I am so glad that I was at this facility and with this team of providers.  They got me through a very scary situation.  They made sure I understood what had happened.  I felt safe.  Being with the right doctors makes a difference.  I am grateful that I fought my medical group and insurance to get this care.  I encourage everyone to remember that we have a say in our healthcare, and we should not be afraid to speak up to medical groups and insurance companies.

            I also wanted to share an experience I had last night.  I was chatting with a doctor who provided care to me about a year ago.  I told him about my cancer.  He expressed concerned and had some wise words that really made me think.  I had told him I was going to fight the cancer.  He responded, “Then you’ve already won cuz we all must leave this life one day. How you live your life is what matters the most and you are a fighter and a winner.”

            These words meant a lot to me and really made me stop and think.  I’m in a fight for my life, but I can win.  I have a lot of life to live.  Over the years I have not been living life for me.  But this doctor’s words made me realize that I need to start focusing on how I live and that I must live every moment.  I must take risks and do what makes me happy.  So, as I fight this killer illness, I am going to start thinking about how I want to live and what is important to me.  I can’t fight this disease and then go back to just living day to day.  I need to set a purpose for my life.  I need to focus on how I am living.  I am going to renew my efforts to advocate for mental illness and also advocate for cancer patients.  I am going to search for and find the passion I once had as a special education teacher.  In doing that I will rededicate myself to helping my students maximize their potential.  I am going to stop putting off my trip to Italy.  I am going to go there and visit the towns my family immigrated from.  I am going to enjoy all Italy has to offer, even if I have to go alone.  I am going to spend more time with family and friends.  In doing so I will allow myself to enjoy those times.  

      Thank you, Dr. R for reminding me what is important.  I am going to win this fight with cancer.  I am not going to allow the depression to break me.  I am going to live my life to the fullest and focus on what matters.

 

 

“All I Know So Far”

            When it comes to music I can usually be found in the world of classic rock.  I would much rather listen to rock music from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s then today’s music.  Social media connected the two for me a few months back when I heard Pink! sing a cover of the Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” (originally sung by Grace Slick).  Anyone who knows my story or has read my memoir, “Traveling the Healing Journey: Finding the Light in Mental Illness” (available in bookstores and on Amazon) knows how important Grace Slick is in my story.  I won’t get into that here, but I likely wouldn’t be alive today without her music.  Check out my book or maybe I’ll write about it in a later post.  Anyway, I had heard covers of Grace Slick’s music before, but none moved me the way Pink!’s did.  This led me to listening to some other songs by Pink! and the realization that she writes and sings some powerful lyrics.  Thus, the inspiration for tihs post comes from Pink!’s song, “All I Know So Far”.

            As I mentioned in a previous post my cancer diagnosis has shifted my journey.  Living with stage 4 cancer and depression is not easy.  There is a lot I don’t know and a lot I don’t understand.  I am learning, though.  Earlier today I went for a short walk.  I can’t walk for long distances anymore.  I get too tired.  As I walked, I was listening to “All I Know So Far”.  I began to think about what I know so far about cancer and depression.  First, they are difficult mix.  Cancer often results in depression, but when you have pre-existing depression, it is even tougher.  I get down very easily.  A look at my hair loss in the mirror triggers me.  My lack of energy is demoralizing.  It makes me want to just lie in bed.  Knowing that I have an MRI scheduled to check if the cancer has spread to my brain, scares me. That fear brings my mood down.  Knowing how much chemotherapy I have ahead of me and knowing that the side effects will ravage my body are difficult to face.  

            So, what do I know so far?  I know I have battled depression all my life.  I know that while the depression has won many of the battles, I am winning the war because I am still alive.  I haven’t given into the suicidal thoughts.  Now I have another battle to square off against while I continue to face the depression.  Cancer is here to stay.  As I listen to the doctor or sit here thinking about what I am facing, I wonder if I have the strength to fight cancer and depression at the same time.  There is no denying that I am scared.  But I know a strength lies within me.  I don’t know where it comes from.  My guess is my psych team has helped me develop this strength.  Their words empower me and keep me going.  One thing I know is that I am going to fight.  Some days will be more difficult than others.  I know I need to focus on little wins.  The bigger picture is harder to face.  Just like when I have fought the depression on its own, I must take it one day at time.  I can’t rush and think I can make it all go away.  Cancer and depression don’t work that way.  I am in for a battle.  That is one thing I know.  

            I’ll face this new battle the way I have always fought. I’ll rely on my support system when I need to.  I have strategies such as journaling and listening to classic rock, with a little Pink! thrown in.  When I have the strength, I’ll go for walks. Some days I’ll paint.  For most of my life I have battled depression.  Cancer is another battle.  Another thing I know so far is that I can battle.  So, cancer, watch out!  You are going to find out what the depression already knows.  I am not going to give up.

 

A special thank you to Pink! for the inspiration.  As always, a thank you to Grace Slick for helping me still be here to fight.