Cancer, Cancer. Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when it comes for you?

I've had this post kicking around for a couple of weeks, but with Lisa's news yesterday this seems like a good time to post this.

----------

When I was pregnant with C.C. I had an appointment with a genetic counselor because, in the prime of my life at age 35, I was classified as a woman of "advanced maternal age" and I hadn't yet decided if I wanted to go through amniocentesis.

There was nothing in my or Mr. C's family history that caused any alarm for our yet unborn baby but while mapping out my family history red flags popped up for me. A bunch of red flags. Big, crimson ones that didn't have any cute welcomes beckoning to me like "Eat Here. Early bird specials, including dessert, starting at just $7.99", "Half price apps. after 7pm", not even my favorite "Half price drink specials Tues. and Weds." or "99 cent draughts". Just scary red flags with the word "Cancer" written on them in big block letters.

My mother died of colon cancer four years ago. My grandmother, my mother's mother, died of ovarian cancer, a related form of disease, last year. And years ago my Gram's half sister died from breast cancer, a cancer related to ovarian. It was like following a daisy chain. Unfortunately, I'm the half hitch and from the looks of things I'm barely hanging on. One tug and the whole thing will let go, metaphorically speaking.

Metaphors make the cancer easier to take, didn't you know? Follow the yellow brick cancer trail! Follow the yellow brick cancer trail! Follow, follow, follow, follow...

I had my own brush with cancer ten years ago. I had an aggressive form of the HPV virus and within a year I went from clean pap smears to Oh my CHRIST. Get thee to a doctor NOW or you'll get THE CANCER.

I was treated. Cells were removed. My feet were in the stirrups more times than I'd like to remember but everything worked out fine. Unfortunately, this diagnosis coincided with my mom finding out her cancer was progressing faster than had hoped and major surgery had just been scheduled for her. It was a dark time in my life.

My mom was diagnosed with colon cancer when she was just 44 years old and since there is a genetic link, doctors told my sister and me that we would have to start being tested when we reached the age of 35, or roughly ten years before the age my mother was diagnosed. Let me tell you, I'm not looking forward to some physician I don't know shoving a camera up my butt to have a look see but I'm going to do it. I have to.

But before then I have another appointment with a genetic counselor in September. We'll chat, maybe talk about the good old days when my mom's insides were being ravaged by cancer and about my grandmother who refused to be tested even though her oldest daughter died a horrible death at a ridiculously young age.

I'm not sure but if you research my last name you may find it's English for "Ostrich who sticks his head in the sand because if you don't know bad things are coming then they'll just go away. LA LA LA LA LA".

After that, who knows? Maybe they'll recommend genetic testing to determine if I'm, in fact, predisposed for the big C. And that, my friends, scares the beejebus out of me.

I'll get tested. I'll go every year if I need to. I'll drink that vile liquid that will clean my insides out better than Roto Router on a clogged toilet (Oh the symbolism!). I'll bitch to my doctor that I will not have any of those other tests that are only good about 10% of the time and just put on the pith helmet already and grab your pick ax because it's time to go SPEELUNKING! I'll fight with insurance companies who probably don't want to pay for this procedure for someone my age. I'll do all of that...

But do I really want to know, really, truly know, that the damn cancer is coming to get me? Would you? How much information is too much? If you were me, would you take a cue from my dear, ostrich-like grandmother and not want to know anything or would you face it head on?

Ha! I scoff in the face of cancer! HA HA HA H... *cough* *gag* *whimper*

Would you willingly get a test that would tell you as definitively as possible that if the screenings fail (which they don't usually) you'll end up with this disease? And if you did, what would you do with the information?

I may be a heathen but I know when someone needs my prayers

Whether or not you are familiar with Midwestern Mommy, please go to her blog and leave her a comment or send her an email with your thoughts and prayers. She just found out she has cancer - either colon or lymphoma, she wasn't sure at time of posting - and though she's trying to put on a brave face, joking about the inevitable weight loss, she desperately needs your best wishes.

And please, even if you're not a church goer, say a prayer for her family as well, especially her beloved husband and her adorable little boy (and hell, for her dog too!). They need all the support they can get during this difficult time.

The waiting is the hardest part. I hope.

When it rains it pours. Big, heavy, buckets of unfortunate occurrences.

My cat is still missing. Who knew a damn cat could drive an otherwise rational person to distraction?

There's some big doings going on at the Chicky compound that I need to prepare for and Mr. C is pretty much unavailable to help due to work commitments. So the next couple of weeks are going to be a bit stressful.

And worst of all (and I mean way, way worse than all the other stresses that are just buzzing around my head) I just found out that my grandmother may or may not have cancer - and I'm leaning towards the "may" since she's being sent to a much bigger hospital 45 minutes away from her house because the local hospital can't help her - but we won't find out what's going on for at least another few hours if not another day. I don't like this whole waiting thing. It makes a person feel just a wee bit helpless.

Gram had a CAT scan done yesterday after weeks of feeling poor (and not going to the doctor to find out what was the matter because my grandmother is the most STUBBORN woman on the face of this earth) and the results, apparently, were not good. They think it may be ovarian cancer.

My grandmother has already lost her only sister to ovarian cancer years ago. This, I'm assuming, is the outcome she was afraid of. Her reason for putting off the doctors until she finally could not wait any longer.

No one deserves to be ill but my grandmother really doesn't deserve it. She hasn't exactly had an easy life.

She was 17 when she became a mother for the first time and had three more children in rapid succession until, when the youngest, my mother, was one, her young husband died tragically in a freak accident. She was a widow with four kids before the age of 24, can you imagine that? Soon after she married my Papa and had seven more children. Eleven kids in all. She's buried three of them already and one is a vegetable. My Papa died late last year.

So, to recap: Two husbands dead, Eleven children - three dead and one in a vegetative state, one sister dead, oh and a father who died when she was young and a mother who left her - emotionally, anyway - to be cared for by her grandmother. A lifetime of work and toil and sacrifice. She doesn't deserve one more hardship in her life. She deserves to live the rest of her days in peace, surrounded by family and friends, with nothing more to worry about than keeping up on all our birthdays.

I thank you all for the kind thoughts about my cat but if you could find it in yourself to keep one more person who really needs it in your thoughts and maybe even your prayers (if you do that sort of thing) I would appreciate it. My grandmother, though she doesn't know about this online life I have, would also certainly appreciate it. I believe in the power of positive thinking and I can't seem to muster any of my own right now. Gram will probably have surgery in the next day or so, send some good thoughts her way. Okay?

Chicky and her "Gwammy", the happiest I've seen her in a long time.

Playing favorites

Over the past five years I've spent working with dogs and their owners I've realized that there are just going to be those students that I favor over others. Any educator will tell you that it's a slippery slope to pick favorites but my educating experience is a bit different from other traditional teachers and professors in that my students are almost always under the age of five, they have four legs and a tail and are attached by a six foot leash to an adult who is usually over the age of 30.

There's one family in particular that comes to mind. For the past six months I've had the pleasure to work with a family that is just so damn... Nice. Yes, nice. Normally, I go out of my way to not use that word but this is one of those times when the word does not seem trite. The kids, a young girl and a boy, are sweet as can be. The wife and I swap baking recipes and the father sends me YouTube clips that he thinks I'll enjoy. Not to mention their kooky dog who makes me smile every time I see his silly face. Every member of this family of five (including the dog) has left a mark on me that I won't soon forget and I'm lucky enough to have them in another one of my classes right now. I care for this family. I care about what happens to them, right down to their crazy mixed breed rescue dog. They're good, kind people and I want to see them happy and successful, not just with their dog training but in every other aspect of their lives.

The other night after class the husband, lets call him "D", hung around to ask some questions. The week before (I found out through email correspondence with his wife) he was unable to attend class because he was with his mother, who has brain cancer, and I could tell he needed someone to talk to. So we talked long after class had ended. What started as a conversation between teacher and student, to make sure he wasn't screwing up his dog by running back and forth to his mother's home and running her to the hospital (therefore, spending far less time caring for and training his dog), became a therapy session between two people who have the unfortunate bond of shared experiences with cancer.

I told him that I had lost my mother three years ago to cancer and that, along with our short past as friends-with-dogs, was enough to get him to open up about his mother's illness.

His pain was so evident that it broke my heart. He knows that he only has a short amount of time with his mom and like most of us who have, or have had, a close relative or friend with cancer he's trying to work out in his head how he can juggle the pressure of helping his mom while still maintaining some normalcy in his life.

Like I said before D. is a good man, a nice man. Right now he's trying to be everything to everybody, but he can't and I'm sure that's tearing him up. He's doing as much as a man with a job, a wife, two kids, and a dog can do when faced with a parent who has this horrible disease, but I know that it never feels like enough.

Dealing with a loved one with cancer, especially when it gets to the end, means putting your life on hold. I didn't do that as much as I could have when my mother was dying (in my defense, I didn't know how quickly she was declining) but D. is and I made sure to tell him that his time spent with his mother and the love he is showing her are the best gifts he could give to her. Because you never know when the end is coming. You have to live today as if there is no tomorrow.

We both walked away that night happier that we found a connection to each other, but fighting back the tears that we were too tired to shed. I hope that a cure, a magical combination of chemotherapy treatments, will be found in time to save his mom, but if that doesn't happen I hope he'll be content with how he spent this time with her.

With the exception of a cure that's the best thing that any of us dealing with this disease can ask for.

----------------------

Do you have a favorite? Charity, that is. If you do - great! - give as much as you can. Donate your time, not just your money. But if you don't yet have a favorite charity please consider helping the American Cancer Society (you Canadians can go here). Give what you can.

If you're like me and you hate sending a check to a faceless charity please take the time to attend just a portion of your local Relay for Life. The face of cancer is as diverse as the types of cancers that are out there, but so much more beautiful. I've written about the Relay for Life in the past, the indelible effect it had on me and the grace that comes from people sharing the bonds of life and survival but the Relay for Life is really something you need to experience for yourself to truly understand. It's a tight knit community that welcomes anyone that has been touched by cancer. You don't even have to have know anyone who has had cancer (I pray that you haven't but it seems everyone knows someone with cancer) you just have to want to help.

To find a Relay for Life close to you go here and type in your zip code, then attend. Show up. Be present. Buy a shirt or dedicate a luminaria to someone who has cancer, both those who are still fighting and those who lost their fight. Walk, even if you're not on a team. Arrive early for the survivor's lap and stay for the luminaria ceremony. Show those around you that you are happy they're alive and that you want to help with their fight. Your presence will be appreciated.

And I promise you your life will be changed.

Everyone's got one but no one is talking about it

Do you know what this month is?

I'll give you some hints: It's not sexy. You probably won't find any provocative statements regarding it printed on a t-shirt. The news media won't be coming out in droves to promote it. I'm doubtful that many glamorous Hollywood parties will be thrown to raise money for it. And yet, it's the second leading cancer killer in North America. And almost 154,000 people will diagnosed this year. Just this year. And more than 52,000 men and women - mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends - will die.

Have you guessed yet?

It's Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month.

That's right. A whole month dedicated to getting to know your colon and your rectum. Not as fun as self breast exams. No need to protest big tobacco. And despite their best efforts to promote it to the masses, without the aid of The Couric Effect hardly anyone outside of those already touched by this disease would know about it. So I feel it is my duty to let you know that this month is as good as any to have your colon screened.

The medical community, or more specifically, the insurance companies, want you to start getting screened for colorectal cancer when you reach the age of 50. My mother was 44 when she was diagnosed. A few acquaintances of hers were also in their early 40s when they were diagnosed. This woman was 38 when she found out she had colon cancer. How old are you right now?

This year I'll be 35, the magic age that my mother's doctor told me I should start getting screened at so many years ago. I'm not looking forward to it, any of it: the fighting with the insurance company, the prep, the actual procedure, none of it. Let's face it, no one wants a camera up their bum. No one wants to spend the evening before drinking a gallon of that nasty liquid only to spend the rest of their night on the toilet (have to be squeaky clean for your motion picture debut). But the bottom line (no pun intended, really) is this:

Early detection is key to beating colon cancer. It is treatable. You don't have to die from this disease. If you have a family history, fight for your right to have a doctor prod around down there. If you think you might have some of the symptoms, regardless of your age or history, fight even harder. You are your own best advocate and nobody cares about your life more than you do. Except maybe those who love you.

Colorectal cancer is not sexy. You won't be seeing any famous actors and actresses sporting pretty scarves or jewelry in nationally televised commercials or glossy magazine ads to promote it. No, it is not sexy.

But the toll it takes on your body is even worse.

And death is never sexy.

Be proud to say "I've got a colon". Everyone's got one, who cares who knows about it? Get off your ass and get it checked.

Get screened.