I dedicate this blog to my courageous Step mum Yvonne and her pillow, my beautiful dad, Lloyd
.............'When tough times come, it is particularly important to offset them with much gentle softness. Be a pillow'........... ~ Vera Nazarene
Okay okay - I accept you may have good reason to assume I'd abandoned this blogging game - that I had hyped you all up into a home run and a victory dance and blah and blah and then just nicked off home without saying goodbye. Wrong! I'm still here and in order to wrap this cancer journey up, I feel I have a few blogs left in me. Because there have been a number of significant related events that have happened since early August last year (yes I know) and I'm not a fan of having unfinished business. Besides which, I need to keep my dad happy and he has been on my case for sometime. So clearly this one is for you dad :)
My last blog alluded to the fact that I had to make a decision to go through with having ovaries and tubes removed to ensure no oestrogen production occurred in this body of mine. I neglected to mention that along with that decision now comes frequent and uncontrollable hot sweats which for all my mates that are a good decade behind me on this one - be warned - enjoy your dry moments with gay abandon I say! I love a good sweat up don't get me wrong but I prefer that this happens in a sauna or at the gym and not when I am in the middle of a meeting at work and all of a sudden I am the colleague melting at the end of the table. It hadn't occurred to me just how uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing the profusely sweating world can be. Thanks cancer - you took a good swipe at me with that outcome. Still it was destined to happen at some stage in my life anyway and I will be an expert in ventilation techniques for my girlfriends down the track. Always a silver lining!
I neglected to mention in the previous blog that I had literally just returned from an amazing holiday in Bali (July 2012) in which my gorgeous friend and cancer coordinator Dr Julia Maclean ( you know, woman of science / crazy lady) and I boarded a plane destined for detox! Yup, that's right we voluntarily flew 9 hours plus a road trip to Ubud to undertake a week of detoxification (just to be clear - NO COCKTAILS or DUDE FOOD or SUNSET SESSIONS) in the beautiful mountains of Bali. We left our two hairy children (Murphy and Barney) in the capable hands of John who funnily enough considered a holiday in Bali with no cold beer or food for that matter to not be his idea of a fun time away. Go figure?
It had been a promise I had made to myself (one of many) that when the chemo / nuclear blasting was over - that I would go somewhere and completely cleanse myself in order to feel healthy and whole again. And that's exactly what happened. Mind you, the detox started several weeks BEFORE departure as you are encouraged to 'pre-detox' for your detox I assume so that you don't arrive and start convulsing by 10pm when you haven't had your daily dose of nicotine, caffeine and alcohol (or whatever your said vice might be). So Julia and I spent a good couple of weeks prior to leaving texting each other to ensure that we hadn't broken and ordered a triple shot latte with 8 sugars. We were good to go!
The resort (Como Shambhala) was simply stunning. We ate 'clean food' (read organic, healthy schmealthy juicy veggie stuff) at the beginning and the end of the week but for the majority of the time, Julia and I drank juice only - oh and a boatload of coconut water - some with oils and psyllium husk and whatever other concoction that Eve our Nutritionist recommended. I mastered the holding ones nose technique and gulping the liquid down and we did get to the point when we heard one of us groan, we just knew instinctively that a friendly staff member in their crisp Balinese leisure suits was about to turn up with two giant size glasses of the greenest concoction you've ever seen and pop it down for us to enjoy! Spending days drinking liquid only can do weird things to you and I found myself dreaming of chowing down on buckets of KFC popcorn chicken and looking longingly at the floral arrangements in the treatment rooms wondering what the stalks might taste like if I could just snap the bottom bit off for a gnaw? But, it was an incredible transformation to wake every day feeling increasingly fabulous and energised!
I have to say my idea of a week in Bali has been traditionally based around Bintang, Nasi Goreng and late nights dancing so to spend a week slurping down bright multi coloured veggie juices and considering clapping my hands at a bowl of Quinoa and 12 hours sleep - I just knew I was doing something very nurturing for my body and soul. Do I go there and describe the treatments - hmmmm lets just say that yes, occasionally it did involve a lubricated tube and the "Angel of Water" and some hilarious moments between Julia and I that has further cemented our friendship. Yes I know, what goes on tour should well and truly stay there. Enough said about that then.
We did win the award for essentially signing up to every activity on the menu AND undergoing practically every treatment available AND for stealing their local golden retriever and hiding her out in our room AND for arranging a trip to the 'real medicine man' only to uncover it was some old dude in a puffer jacket, sandals and with no teeth in which my consultation was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing!!! Still, I purchased the $5 bag of yellow oil and smeared it on my forehead like he told me to until it leaked and ran all over my toiletry bag. He did confirm that my cancer had gone however so Puff Daddy Medicine man rocks as far as I'm concerned.
The following week I said goodbye to Julia and I stayed on to surf at a surf camp on the Bhukit Peninsular of Bali. I was feeling so fantastic following the detox that I actually stuck to good clean healthy food and I surfed my butt off for a week - some days spending something like 6 hours on a surfboard. It was the perfect combination of detox and exercise and exactly what I needed to wrap the treatment phase of this cancer up. I returned to Lennox one happy, healthy girl.
Of course I was aware that I was returning to face round 3 of surgery for me which was to remove my ovaries and tubes. This was scheduled for early August (taking me to my last blog) and so shortly after arriving home from Bali, I was back in a hospital gown and back under the knife - but hey, I had a damn fine tan and what better place to be in for such an event - fully detoxed, feeling strong as an Ox and back at Club Med St George Kogarah!! Perfect!
It was also the right time for me go see Stephanie my breast surgeon for a big check up - mammogram, ultrasound etc. However here is where the fun ends and a week of anxiousness begins. Unfortunately for me, the mammogram did show up some lumps in the right breast this time and so my week started with a mandatory and what I had expected routine check up and ended up with a right boob punctured x 6 to ensure that the biopsy was thorough. The operation to remove the ovaries a complete doddle, literally an operation that required one overnight stay in hospital and had me back on a spin bike a few days later. Waiting to hear if the lumps in the right breast benign - not so easy and sent me into the depths of despair having to seriously consider the 'what ifs' should it come back positive to breast cancer. You cannot know the anxiety that is wrapped up in waiting on news such as this. I am one of the lucky ones - I get to sit here and write about how relieved I was to hear that all was well and that the tests came back negative to cancer. You can go home Kym.
However it did offer me yet another life lesson on this cancer journey and it's one that is extremely close to home even as I write this blog on a rainy Saturday afternoon. And that is that unlike me, there are others in which the news is not cause for celebration. In which the news means another round of dreadful telephone calls to your mum and your mates and your work telling them you have to check out of life for a while. In which the people the closest to you stop making plans for their own lives because they know you are going to need them and they have no idea how long that's going to be for. In which you lie awake in the darkness of night and wonder where the strength will come to do it all again. To keep smiling. To stay positive. To fight. I think of the beautiful people in my life right now that know exactly what that feels like......you know who you are and I look forward to every opportunity for connection and sharing whether it be at a cafe in Ballina or a restaurant in Paris. You are my mentors, my pin up gals, my strength.
And so it was that I gained a new depth of appreciation for all those people out there currently battling their disease for the second, third, fourth and tragically in some cases, the final time. How do you keep fighting when you have used up every inch of your resilience to get through the last round of treatment? To take to the field and play the game of your life only to have the Umpire say you get off the bench and play again - the games not over - yes you are exhausted but you are still not safe on home base and no one else can play for you. And it's gone on so long that it's not just you that's tired - your support crew are growing weary too.
Yesterday my step mum opted, for now, not to undergo her final round of chemo. For Yvonne the game has been long (over a decade now) and she's played with strength and an amazing spirit. She is a champion in her own right and I have watched with pride and a heavy heart as she and my dad as her number 1 supporter have faced the pitcher time and time again. No one should sit in judgement of decisions you make about your own health when only you know what you can and cant face - particularly when the game has been unfairly extended and physical and mental exhaustion is at play. I've only had to face one innings in this game and I already know that there are scars I will carry forever as a result. Additionally I am only too conscious that my support crew have sacrificed much to support me. It takes a special person to keep taking the punches after every knock to the ground. It's not just you either - it's those that are helping you back to your feet, dusting you off, holding you up. I can completely understand the decision to bring the game to a close.
And so I dedicate this blog to Yvonne and Dad - Warriors in the fight. A partnership that has shown remarkable love and care and above all kindness. I salute your courage, your fortitude and your toughness. To my dad I especially respect your stamina, positivity and the selfless sacrifices you have made to be the gentle pillow in Yvonne's life. I am in awe of both of you.
Much Love Squirty (aka Kym) xxx
.............'When tough times come, it is particularly important to offset them with much gentle softness. Be a pillow'........... ~ Vera Nazarene
Okay okay - I accept you may have good reason to assume I'd abandoned this blogging game - that I had hyped you all up into a home run and a victory dance and blah and blah and then just nicked off home without saying goodbye. Wrong! I'm still here and in order to wrap this cancer journey up, I feel I have a few blogs left in me. Because there have been a number of significant related events that have happened since early August last year (yes I know) and I'm not a fan of having unfinished business. Besides which, I need to keep my dad happy and he has been on my case for sometime. So clearly this one is for you dad :)
My last blog alluded to the fact that I had to make a decision to go through with having ovaries and tubes removed to ensure no oestrogen production occurred in this body of mine. I neglected to mention that along with that decision now comes frequent and uncontrollable hot sweats which for all my mates that are a good decade behind me on this one - be warned - enjoy your dry moments with gay abandon I say! I love a good sweat up don't get me wrong but I prefer that this happens in a sauna or at the gym and not when I am in the middle of a meeting at work and all of a sudden I am the colleague melting at the end of the table. It hadn't occurred to me just how uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing the profusely sweating world can be. Thanks cancer - you took a good swipe at me with that outcome. Still it was destined to happen at some stage in my life anyway and I will be an expert in ventilation techniques for my girlfriends down the track. Always a silver lining!
I neglected to mention in the previous blog that I had literally just returned from an amazing holiday in Bali (July 2012) in which my gorgeous friend and cancer coordinator Dr Julia Maclean ( you know, woman of science / crazy lady) and I boarded a plane destined for detox! Yup, that's right we voluntarily flew 9 hours plus a road trip to Ubud to undertake a week of detoxification (just to be clear - NO COCKTAILS or DUDE FOOD or SUNSET SESSIONS) in the beautiful mountains of Bali. We left our two hairy children (Murphy and Barney) in the capable hands of John who funnily enough considered a holiday in Bali with no cold beer or food for that matter to not be his idea of a fun time away. Go figure?
It had been a promise I had made to myself (one of many) that when the chemo / nuclear blasting was over - that I would go somewhere and completely cleanse myself in order to feel healthy and whole again. And that's exactly what happened. Mind you, the detox started several weeks BEFORE departure as you are encouraged to 'pre-detox' for your detox I assume so that you don't arrive and start convulsing by 10pm when you haven't had your daily dose of nicotine, caffeine and alcohol (or whatever your said vice might be). So Julia and I spent a good couple of weeks prior to leaving texting each other to ensure that we hadn't broken and ordered a triple shot latte with 8 sugars. We were good to go!
The resort (Como Shambhala) was simply stunning. We ate 'clean food' (read organic, healthy schmealthy juicy veggie stuff) at the beginning and the end of the week but for the majority of the time, Julia and I drank juice only - oh and a boatload of coconut water - some with oils and psyllium husk and whatever other concoction that Eve our Nutritionist recommended. I mastered the holding ones nose technique and gulping the liquid down and we did get to the point when we heard one of us groan, we just knew instinctively that a friendly staff member in their crisp Balinese leisure suits was about to turn up with two giant size glasses of the greenest concoction you've ever seen and pop it down for us to enjoy! Spending days drinking liquid only can do weird things to you and I found myself dreaming of chowing down on buckets of KFC popcorn chicken and looking longingly at the floral arrangements in the treatment rooms wondering what the stalks might taste like if I could just snap the bottom bit off for a gnaw? But, it was an incredible transformation to wake every day feeling increasingly fabulous and energised!
I have to say my idea of a week in Bali has been traditionally based around Bintang, Nasi Goreng and late nights dancing so to spend a week slurping down bright multi coloured veggie juices and considering clapping my hands at a bowl of Quinoa and 12 hours sleep - I just knew I was doing something very nurturing for my body and soul. Do I go there and describe the treatments - hmmmm lets just say that yes, occasionally it did involve a lubricated tube and the "Angel of Water" and some hilarious moments between Julia and I that has further cemented our friendship. Yes I know, what goes on tour should well and truly stay there. Enough said about that then.
We did win the award for essentially signing up to every activity on the menu AND undergoing practically every treatment available AND for stealing their local golden retriever and hiding her out in our room AND for arranging a trip to the 'real medicine man' only to uncover it was some old dude in a puffer jacket, sandals and with no teeth in which my consultation was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing!!! Still, I purchased the $5 bag of yellow oil and smeared it on my forehead like he told me to until it leaked and ran all over my toiletry bag. He did confirm that my cancer had gone however so Puff Daddy Medicine man rocks as far as I'm concerned.
The following week I said goodbye to Julia and I stayed on to surf at a surf camp on the Bhukit Peninsular of Bali. I was feeling so fantastic following the detox that I actually stuck to good clean healthy food and I surfed my butt off for a week - some days spending something like 6 hours on a surfboard. It was the perfect combination of detox and exercise and exactly what I needed to wrap the treatment phase of this cancer up. I returned to Lennox one happy, healthy girl.
Of course I was aware that I was returning to face round 3 of surgery for me which was to remove my ovaries and tubes. This was scheduled for early August (taking me to my last blog) and so shortly after arriving home from Bali, I was back in a hospital gown and back under the knife - but hey, I had a damn fine tan and what better place to be in for such an event - fully detoxed, feeling strong as an Ox and back at Club Med St George Kogarah!! Perfect!
It was also the right time for me go see Stephanie my breast surgeon for a big check up - mammogram, ultrasound etc. However here is where the fun ends and a week of anxiousness begins. Unfortunately for me, the mammogram did show up some lumps in the right breast this time and so my week started with a mandatory and what I had expected routine check up and ended up with a right boob punctured x 6 to ensure that the biopsy was thorough. The operation to remove the ovaries a complete doddle, literally an operation that required one overnight stay in hospital and had me back on a spin bike a few days later. Waiting to hear if the lumps in the right breast benign - not so easy and sent me into the depths of despair having to seriously consider the 'what ifs' should it come back positive to breast cancer. You cannot know the anxiety that is wrapped up in waiting on news such as this. I am one of the lucky ones - I get to sit here and write about how relieved I was to hear that all was well and that the tests came back negative to cancer. You can go home Kym.
However it did offer me yet another life lesson on this cancer journey and it's one that is extremely close to home even as I write this blog on a rainy Saturday afternoon. And that is that unlike me, there are others in which the news is not cause for celebration. In which the news means another round of dreadful telephone calls to your mum and your mates and your work telling them you have to check out of life for a while. In which the people the closest to you stop making plans for their own lives because they know you are going to need them and they have no idea how long that's going to be for. In which you lie awake in the darkness of night and wonder where the strength will come to do it all again. To keep smiling. To stay positive. To fight. I think of the beautiful people in my life right now that know exactly what that feels like......you know who you are and I look forward to every opportunity for connection and sharing whether it be at a cafe in Ballina or a restaurant in Paris. You are my mentors, my pin up gals, my strength.
And so it was that I gained a new depth of appreciation for all those people out there currently battling their disease for the second, third, fourth and tragically in some cases, the final time. How do you keep fighting when you have used up every inch of your resilience to get through the last round of treatment? To take to the field and play the game of your life only to have the Umpire say you get off the bench and play again - the games not over - yes you are exhausted but you are still not safe on home base and no one else can play for you. And it's gone on so long that it's not just you that's tired - your support crew are growing weary too.
Yesterday my step mum opted, for now, not to undergo her final round of chemo. For Yvonne the game has been long (over a decade now) and she's played with strength and an amazing spirit. She is a champion in her own right and I have watched with pride and a heavy heart as she and my dad as her number 1 supporter have faced the pitcher time and time again. No one should sit in judgement of decisions you make about your own health when only you know what you can and cant face - particularly when the game has been unfairly extended and physical and mental exhaustion is at play. I've only had to face one innings in this game and I already know that there are scars I will carry forever as a result. Additionally I am only too conscious that my support crew have sacrificed much to support me. It takes a special person to keep taking the punches after every knock to the ground. It's not just you either - it's those that are helping you back to your feet, dusting you off, holding you up. I can completely understand the decision to bring the game to a close.
And so I dedicate this blog to Yvonne and Dad - Warriors in the fight. A partnership that has shown remarkable love and care and above all kindness. I salute your courage, your fortitude and your toughness. To my dad I especially respect your stamina, positivity and the selfless sacrifices you have made to be the gentle pillow in Yvonne's life. I am in awe of both of you.
Much Love Squirty (aka Kym) xxx
