Cancer….why
So I asked
There was no answer, only silence
Again I asked
CANCER…why
Still no reply
In anger and frustration I yelled
CANCER….WHY
Still silence, no answers
I can only cry.
cancer….why
My tears fall. My heart is silently broken.
There are no answers, the fight begins and still I wonder why in the silence
It has been a long 3 years since I was first diagnosed with stage 3B ovarian cancer. I’ve riden a Rollercoaster of emotions, and those who know me well know I’m not fond of rollercoasters, but you can not run away from it. You put your safety harness on and hope for the best.
During this time, I have had lots of family members also get diagnosed with cancer. It’s a scary place to be. You begin to live with a lot of sorrow. You feel like the darkest of darkness has swept around you, and you wonder if you will survive. Those people in your life tell you to fight the good fight, to be strong, to find the light and hope, and to remind you of how much they love you. All great messages. What we also need to remember is that it’s also ok to feel angry, to feel sadness or sorrow, and to wonder if things will ever go back to the way it was. There’s no such thing as negative emotions. It’s ok to feel your feelings. They’re only there to visit. They don’t need to stay. We need balance in our lives, and these feeling often balance themselves out in the end.
I think love and sorrow travel hand in hand. It’s what brings joy into our lives. Without sorrow, you can not see the beauty that walks and exists around you. Sometimes, I think we get caught up in the sorrow and need people to show us the way back to love and show us how to see the beauty. It’s the nature of like. I also believe that when we don’t acknowledge what causes us sorrow, that’s when we begin to live in anger. As I’ve said many times to my lo ed ones, I don’t want to live in anger. However, it is ok to feel angry. I just believe that we acknowledge it and then move forward, returning to our love state of being. I know it sounds easy, but I also know it’s hard to do.
So, as I sit here receiving the 6th chemotherapy for my remission (I’ve had 12 total now). I think of all I’ve learned through this process. I’ve learned that while I’m the one with cancer, all my loved ones are also going through this journey. I’ve learned a lot about my body and health. I’m grateful for a bunch of blessings. The medical people in my life and the medical discoveries over the many years of research. I am grateful for healing, even if it’s slow. I’m grateful for my family and friends who bring me light and love every day. I’m grateful to the Creator who gives me strength every day to keep going. I’m grateful to those who have dropped off meals to help us out. I am for the kindness of strangers who remind me that there is still love in a world full of sorrow. Most of all, I am grateful for my life with all its sorrows and all its love.
Kinanâskomitin, I am grateful, ahkamēyimok, keep going. Kiyam, let go, miyo-pimâtisiwin, it’s a good life. Live it in a beautiful way. Ekosimaka, that’s all for now.
Cancer is a scary experience. It will always sit with me. It’s changed how I am and how I approach things. It’s changed my body. It’s changed my mindset. It’s hard to keep up with it all. It’s also difficult to not be afraid that it will return. How does one leave behind the fear and anxiety of the possibility of death and the return of cancer.
When you get a diagnosis of cancer, it’s like getting kicked. You don’t really expect it even if you see the foot swinging. You anticipate the treatments. You wonder how all of it is going to affect you. You wonder about side effects and the future feels distant. Some people scream “fuck cancer” others become silent and still. Both ways of dealing with it have benefits and drawbacks.
Then if you are lucky enough to be told “you’re in remission” you are left with the question of now what. You’ve been so invested in fighting for your life that you now have to move forward and change that perspective.
Over the years I’ve had many conversations with friends about letting things go and living in the present. We have all shared advice with each other. There has been much wisdom shared, this is just some of it.
1. No matter what you do life changes, it brings change. You can either embrace it or run from it. Running doesn’t stop the change. It still happens, it’s better to figure out how to deal with it then let it happen to you.
2. If it’s not yours it’s not going to change.
3. The past is past, you had that experience. It taught you something, take the teaching and move forward.
4. You might be powerless in what happened, but you have power over how you react. Choose wisely.
So now that I sit here again with a recurrence of my cancer, I am again asking myself what now. I move forward, and I hope for a different future grateful for knowing more of what to expect and grateful for those people in my life who walk with me.
Today, I carried the love my children, my nosim, and husband have for me, it help me feel connected to all my reasons for healing.
Today, I carried my parents’ hope with me to remind me that I am always prayed for.
Today, I carried my brothers familys love for me, and it helped me to know it’s ok to feel sad because there are people there to pick me up.
Today, I carried my sisters with me when I went to chemo. I wore a ribbon skirt made by one. It brought the healing love that they freely give me. It reminded me to live life with ceremony, culture, and love.
Today, I carried with me my aunties and uncles prayers. These prayers and their love support all my family during difficult times.
Today, I carried with me my in-laws love and support for my family. I know they hold us close.
Today, I carried with me the love of my nieces and nephews. Their laughter and joy reminded me of life.
Today, I carried with me my friends comfort. This reminds me that I always have people to help me.
Today I brought ahkamēyimok with me. It is the feeling of perseverance, to not give up, and to keep going in spite of difficult times. I am grateful and blessed.
Kinanâskomitin
Hope is powerful when you have it. So many experiences can diminish the hope that you have and it can be difficult to find it again. Being diagnosed with cancer can devastate your hope. It can be like having a candle and trying to keep it lit in a storm. You never know whats happening and you are never actually prepared for whats going to happen.
Recently I have had many people close to me diagnosed with cancer. It sometimes feels like it’s all around me and as if it’s so common. It feels like we all need hope in action. We can only do what we can to build hope in ourselves and in others.
There are so many thing to learn when you get diagnosed with cancer. It’s hard to figure it all out. There’s lots of information out there. It’s also difficult to know how accurate all that information is. Every time I hear about someone I know being diagnosed with cancer I feel my shock over again. Then I think about all the experiences they will be going through and I pray that they have a good outcome.
I walked in Ovarian Cancer Canada’s walk of hope. They say “Hope for change, hope for awareness and hope a cure.” This year will be my third year walking in it. I prefer to do a virtual, local walk instead of the large walk in Edmonton. I can walk with my friends and family. It makes me feel hopeful. The first year I walked I was still receiving chemotherapy. I could not walk very far. I set a goal for my second year, to walk at least 5 kms. I was able to do that. This year, I hope to walk at least the 5 kms again and perhaps further.
I’m walking because I was diagnosed with stage 3B ovarian cancer on April 1, 2020. I was told I’m in remission on September 28th, 2020. It’s been an experience and a difficult journey. I thought that somehow being in remission would mean that I was better. That all the fears I struggled with would soon be gone. That’s not the reality. I have lingering affects from the chemo. I struggled to remove myself from the idea of having cancer.
I guess I’m kind of still living with cancer. I’m still receiving treatment because I have a BRAC1 gene mutation. This means that I’m at higher risk for recurrence or getting breast cancer. I’m currently taking a parp inhibitor, which to my understanding is a form of targeted therapy to prevent recurrence. Research shows its very effective.
Recently I started seeing information about living with and living beyond cancer. I guess living with cancer would be the diagnosis and the treatments. Living beyond cancer would be be after all your treatments are finished and seeing yourself as thriver not just a survivor. I plan to live beyond cancer.
The longest journey I took was the one to find hope. The longest journey is the one that I take as I try to remove myself from fear and depression. The longest journey is now as I stumble in the dark.
The longest journey is the one I travel from my mind to find the truth. The longest journey is to find the comfort of my heart.
The longest journey is mired in fear and darkness as I look for the light. The longest journey is the suffering and experience that comes before I rediscover the light.
The longest journey was realizing that I had been walking with my eyes closed. Upon that realization I opened my eyes and learned that hope was always within my reach, for there was always light on my journey.
It runs in the family, terrible words to repeat but they need repeating. I knew that my dad’s sister, my aunt died from breast cancer. I knew his other sister had some kind of cancer and that she passed from it. I knew several of my cousins had cancer and passed from it and I knew that several of my dad’s cousins also had various cancers. That’s one side.
My mum’s mother, my grandmother had some kind of abdominal cancer that she died from before I was born. My mum had several aunts and cousins that also died from various abdominal cancers. My mum and her twin sister both survived colon cancer. Several of my cousins on my mum’s side have struggled fought and survived cancer.
It runs in the family.
When you hear that you start to look at how many people in the family have had cancer. I knew these things and yet I hadn’t thought about it until I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. When I really looked at it, it kind of felt inevitable. It runs in the family sounds like it’s fatal. It sounds like a bad thing. It forgets all the positives that exist too.
So what I’ve decided “it runs in the family” is going to mean to me is not something negative or awful or fatal.
Strength Sohkatisiwin
Strength is runs in the family. We’ve endured a lot of difficulty, we’ve persevered and continued.
Hope Pakoseyimowin
Hope runs in the family. We keep going, we continue to fight, we keep trying.
Love Sâkihitowin
Love it runs in the family. We support each other. We are there for each other, we may disagree, we may live far from each other but our love is always there.
It runs in the family is all about how you choose to see what runs in the family. Yes our family has cancer but we also have strength, hope, love and we continue.
Ahkamēyimok, perseverance it runs in the family.
What a difference a year makes. I’ve been thinking about today since the beginning of September. A year ago today I had my last chemo treatment. I felt sick, really awful in fact. Most of the time I was napping 2x a day, I had all kinds of physical things going on in my body but I made it to the end of 6 treatments. I was bald and cold all the time.
Definitely there are improvements, like I’m in remission and I have hair. There are somethings that will stay with me for a long time like the neuropathy in my feet, the tiredness (although not as bad) and brain fog (there’s lots to that, no it’s not like menopause brain). All things considered that is a trade off I’m willing to make to still be here.
Being here means I get to hold my beautiful grandson and see his firsts. I get to be with my children and see them become amazing people. I get to be with my husband and listen to his silky jokes that make me laugh. I get to talk to my nieces and nephews and remind them how much they are loved. I get to still be around my parents and hold their hands, give them hugs and tell them I love them. I get to see my siblings, to tell them I love them and how important they are to me.
I get to visit with family, my cousins of which I have many and I love them deeply. I get to be around my friends, they are so important to me. Some of them I’ve had since I was a child and we can laugh and reminisce, rembering the adventures we had.
I get to enjoy the beauty of this world. It’s an amazing place. Nature is so healing and it renews my soul.
Hold onto those you love and those who are important in your life, they are the people who walk with you when times are tough and the ones who celebrate with you in the good times. Create beautiful memories and laughable moments and stay hopeful. ❤
#ovariancancersurvivor #ahkameyimok #ovariancancer #ovariancancerawareness #TEALSISTER #hope #soulhealing #healing
HOPE.
That little light far off in the distance.
HOPE.
The light in the night sky.
HOPE.
I need to move towards it. That’s my hope.
It’s very dark.
My hope is a beacon in this darkness. I move closer still. My hope is getting brighter.
The darkness still surrounds. Yet I still see that light.
It burns brighter and whispers “I am here”
Hope
I move closer, I’m trying to reach out, trying to grasp a hold of the light in the darkness.
I hope.
Hope tells me “you are not alone” – Hope says “I am here. “
Suddenly, I realize that the light isn’t far away. Suddenly, I realize that the light was always with me. I just didn’t know that the light was always shining within me.
HOPE
Hope shines and it radiates out. It is light. The darkness is diminished. Hope is bright and it radiates from me.
Hope is love. I grasp a hold of my hope.
HOPE
Sakaw Iskwew 