A Year Has Passed

It's been one year since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The past year has been a thrill ride with many peaks and valleys. Although it was difficult, I'm not sorry I have gone through this experience.

I spent most of July 2014 in a whirlwind of tests. First came my routine mammogram; then a second-look mammogram; then an ultrasound, and biopsy. Finally the phone call from my doctor came. "Are you somewhere you can talk?" she asked me. That's never good.

Breast cancer is a difficult disease. It strikes us on a part of our bodies that is uniquely feminine. It is fueled by the hormones that make us women and mothers. As one friend put it, "It messes with your head." So I had much to reflect upon as this one-year anniversary approached.

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Fear

I was afraid of a lot of things - dying, pain, sickness, being unable to be present in the lives of my friends and family. I faced down a lot of them and have come out the other side. After you've had cancer, it hard not to be fearful and mistrustful of your body. There are days when I worry about every little ache and pain. But I now know how resilient my body and mind are.

Friends

Where would I be without them? On my last day of work before my leave of absence, my colleagues (all of them women) gave me a surprise lunch. During lunch they gave me several gifts - a beautiful shawl, a soft pink bear, and an assortment of teas. The shawl was like having their arms around me. The bear caught a few teardrops, and the tea sustained me when eating was difficult. Because of their kindness, I was able to embark on my journey with a light heart.

"Breast cancer strikes us on a part of our bodies that is uniquely feminine. It is fueled by the hormones that make us women and mothers."

Then there are my church friends. Our family is part of an Episcopalian community. The prayers for me were palpable. The day before my surgery I attended our Sunday service. They gave me a laying-on of hands to bless me 24 hours before my surgery began. The morning of my surgery, I awoke early and checked Facebook. There Amy, one of my church friends, and her young daughter posted a picture of them wearing pink sweatshirts in my honor. Throughout the day, church members posted to my husband and me that prayers were ascending. During my recovery, home visits were made, communion offered, and meals delivered.

Another friend, who is an executive for a major hospital, stepped in when I had to change doctors and facilities. I was unable to see ahead. She solved all my problems before the end of that difficult day.

Family

You can read about my husband's support by clicking here. We are fortunate to have a close relationship. The rest of the family rallied behind me. My two young nieces posted a picture on Facebook in pink t-shirts

to let me know they were thinking of me. My mother, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, aunt, and cousin went to work stocking my refrigerator and freezer with meals for the next month. My house was kept clean. All I needed to worry about was getting better.

Ultimately, I have had to arrive at a peaceful place. I can't live in fear, but I have to live in reality. One day I will die. I don't know when. I don't know if cancer will take me. Today, I am alive and healthy. I wish you all good health!

You can read more about my experience with breast cancer by clicking on the topics in the sidebar.

How to Reconnect With Your Body After Breast Surgery

We've all had these moments. You look at a photograph of yourself at a family wedding and are shocked by how much weight you've gained. You've lost weight, but still are surprised when you look in the mirror and see your thinner self. Then there were the almost-daily changes during pregnancy that had you wondering what was going on in there.

These are times when we have not truly connected our bodies and our minds. Breast surgery can bring about that same kind of disconnect.

I had a double mastectomy last fall to treat breast cancer. I've undergone months of reconstruction and still face one more surgery. I have been struggling with my body image ever since.

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Those days following my surgery were difficult ones. My breasts were a part of my body that I've always been happy with. My first reaction upon seeing my chest for the first time was "This isn't me." Then I cried. A lot. I am fortunate to have a supportive husband, who hugged me and reassured me. "This is what healthy looks like." It is hard to fight the feeling that your body has betrayed you. 

In addition to emotional difficulties, I faced physical ones, too. My posture was thrown off. I couldn't reach my hands over my head (brushing my hair was an ordeal). I tried to get as much activity in each day as my battered body would allow. Lifting anything (including cats and coffee cups) was hard.

Once the healing process was begun, I began to find ways to make friends with my new body. The following are some of the things that have worked for me. I'm not a medical professional and you need to speak to your doctor during your recovery. I also have not been compensated by the makers of any of the goods and services I write about here. They are simply things I've found helpful.

Reconnect With Your Body Through Exercise

One of the best things I did for myself post-surgery was ask for physical therapy. I was sent to a therapist who specialized in mastectomy recovery, and she proved a valuable resource. She gave me information about things like lymphedema. She reassured me that I was recovering normally. She was a shoulder to cry on. She also helped me get back the use of both arms, improve my posture, and build up my strength. She stressed the importance of ongoing exercise, particularly the emotional benefits of movement.

I've been a dedicated home workout fan for many years (remember Jane Fonda's Workout?) I have a space set up in our basement where I can exercise. But following my surgery, there were many videos in my library that no longer worked for me.

I had to take a look at workouts that I could do and that felt good. I (literally) dusted off my old step and got out my old video from 1992. Stepping worked for me because I still had a strong lower body. I could modify the movements of my upper body according to what I could do each day. It's still one of the sweatiest, heart-pounding workouts out there if you load up the risers.

Some of my favorite videos, both new and old

I was also able to do a little mat pilates work and discovered Zumba for the first time. I had very strict weight lifting limitations from my doctor following both surgeries. I can't stress this enough - it's important that all your doctors know what kind of exercise you are doing. 

Reconnect With Your Body Through Nutrition

I start the day with a healthy smoothie

This has been an ongoing journey for me. I suffered some health complications even before I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Those led me to becoming a vegetarian. Research has shown there may be some benefits to following a plant-based diet for cancer patients. But the biggest difference for me is how I feel. Since giving up meat, I have more energy and my skin and hair look healthier. This diet may not work for everyone, but it's helped me. (Once again, your doctor's advice here is crucial).

I start nearly every day with a green smoothie. It includes leafy greens and some kind of fruit, fat, and protein. This morning's drink was kale, pineapple, banana, flax meal, and coconut oil. It fueled my workout and kept me going until lunch. I feel like this starts my day right. For other meals, I have rice, beans, lentils, and quinoa, along with lots of vegetables.If you choose this kind of diet, there are many resources on line to help you. Perhaps the most important bit if nutrition advice I can give is "Listen to your body." Pay attention to how you feel when you eat certain foods. Develop a way of eating that will keep you healthy.

Some fruits and vegetables from the local fruit stand. Buy local and in-season!

Reconnect With Your Body by Showing Emotion

I get it. We all want to be the brave "pink warrior," able to cope with life and our illness. We don't want our friends and family - especially our children - to worry. But breast cancer is big, serious, scary stuff. Keeping all our emotions inside can be detrimental to our overall health and recovery. 

I felt very guilty when, during a particularly difficult day before my surgery, I began crying and couldn't stop. My son saw me like that. I worried about the effect it would have on him (he's 16). A friend reassured me. "He saw you being real," she said. He also saw that the sad and angry moment passed quickly, perhaps a good life lesson. 

I relied on friends who have recovered from breast cancer. My mom, a survivor herself, lives with us and helped reassure me during some dark times. And there is, of course, my husband. I've written about his loving support here.

Showing your emotions can be the first step in asking for help. There were things I simply couldn't do without help. I needed to really understand that. It was temporary, as I continued to build back my emotional and physical strength.

I still don't feel like I'm all the way back. My reconstructed breasts don't quite feel like "mine" yet. My plastic surgeon reassured me this is normal. He's found that patients take about 18 months to feel some kind of normal again.

Cancer was a reminder that I need to continue to be vigilant with my health. I wish you all good health!

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Coming Out of the Comfort Zone

I'm one of those people who likes to know what's expected of me and exactly what will happen in a given situation. While this personality quirk means that I'm always prepared and ready, it also means that it's difficult for me to drag myself out of my comfort zone.I have been faced with many out-of-the-box situations in the past year during my treatment for breast cancer.

I was reminded of the value of trying new and different things in life during a recent dinner date and concert with my husband.

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A Birthday Gift

For my birthday this year, my husband got us two tickets to see Todd Rundgren. Those of you who are a certain age will remember the lanky, long-haired mega-talent from '70s hits like "Hello, It's Me," "I Saw the Light," and "It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference." 

Rundgren's seminal double-album, "Something/Anything?" was a hit just as I was beginning to appreciate and listen to popular music.The album's big single "Hello, It's Me" is a near-perfect love song.  

In addition to his solo career, Rundgren fronted several bands (The Nazz and Utopia) and was a highly sought-after producer and engineer. He was known for his meticulousness in the studio and his ability to experiment with different sounds. He was one of the first artists to recognize that video could enhance his message. His Utopia Studios was renowned as an early innovator of music videos, and videos produced there found their way into the early rotations of MTV.

Rundgren's fingerprints are on a lot of music that chugged its way through my college and young adult years. Among the artists he produced are Patti Smith, Hall and Oates, XTC, the New York Dolls, Grand Funk Railroad, the Tubes, and Meatloaf (he was the driving force behind "Bat Out of Hell."). 

Pre-concert selfie outside of Infinity Hall

A multi-instrumentalist, Rundgren plays most of the music on his albums, which often feature eccentric, but surprisingly meaningful sounds. His work paved the way for such artists as Prince and Beck.

His new album, "Global" is no different. This time, Rundgren experiments with electronica. I've often found this kind of music cold, but underneath the complex electronic sounds are the soulful Philly-style harmonies he's known for and the warmth of the themes of community and protecting the earth. I had not heard any of his new music before the night of the concert.

A Concert to Remember

My husband and I headed out to Infinity Hall, a small venue in northwestern Connecticut best known for its concerts on PBS. We had dinner in the bistro and took our seats about 15 minutes before the start of the show. 

The stage before the show started.

There was a single seat next to me in our row. It was soon filled. "Hi! I'm Jeff. Longtime Todd fan!" he said, extending his hand. He then regaled me with stories of other Rundgren concerts he'd attended, including one at the Bitter End in New York City that was recorded for the iconic "Back to the Bars" album in the late '70s.

Jeff said staffers at the hall had told him that the roadies had been setting up the stage since early morning. I told him I had seen an electrical generator parked out back. Clearly, something was going to need a lot of juice.

"This concert's going to be a little different," Jeff told me.

A Lasting Message

We soon found out what all the fuss was about. 

The lights dimmed and a guitar-toting Rundgren burst onto the stage to the tune of "Evrybody," which is reminiscent of "Bang the Drum All Day" from the '80s . The tall, black monoliths on the stage came alive with video, as two Afro-wigged singer-dancers backed up Rundgren. 

Rundgren was dressed simply in jeans, sleeveless t-shirt, and sneakers. His signature long hair is still there. Like all of us, he's gotten older. He's now 67 years old. But the sheer energy he exuded was nothing short of inspirational. 

There was little banter with the audience. The music spoke for itself. "Blind" and "This Island Earth" warn of climate change. He celebrated women (including Rosa Parks and Malala Yousafzai) in "Earth Mother." He sang about the joys of finding a grounding love in "Terra Firma." The ballad "Soothe" sounded like an older, wiser sequel to "Hello, It's Me."

He ran through most of the new album, sprinkling in music from Utopia and his older hits. By the time he did the song, "Rise" I didn't want the concert to end. As the music thudded, lights flashed, and the choreographed videos played, I felt bathed in a creative force.

When the encore  finished and the lights came up, my new friend Jeff was as ecstatic as I was. "Did you hear what he did with the classics?" he asked me. I was in awe that Rundgren could surprise a longtime Todd fan like Jeff with his concert innovations. It left me with several important messages about my own life.

• Keep it fresh. I'm sure there have been a few disappointed concert-goers who expected An Evening With Todd Rundgren and older tunes. But I was amazed at the freshness of the sound.  
• Keep an open mind. I didn't know what I was expecting from this concert. After the surprise of the opening number, I just went along with this thrilling ride.
• Age makes no difference. The guy is 67 and up there still rockin' it out.His music - both new and classic - is very relevant.

This concert reminded me that I've been blessed with the ability to hit the curve balls life has thrown at me. I need to keep things fresh in my own life. And I can still be on my feet, clapping my hands, and dancing to the music like it's 1976.

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Here's the song "Rise," off Todd Rundgren's "Global" CD.

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The 3 Things I Learned From Blogging About Breast Cancer

Happy first birthday to The Middle of the Journey - and what a journey it's been.

I started this blog a year ago as a creative outlet. I had been looking for a way to write more, but hesitated about starting a blog. What did I know about setting up a website? It turns out, it's pretty easy to get started. So off I went with my new blog.

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My first posts last July were about parenting and other observations. I didn't worry about finding topics to write about. Inspiration is usually around the next corner. Then, I received a diagnosis of breast cancer. In the last year, I've undergone a double mastectomy and reconstruction and I'm on a course of Tamoxifen for the next five years.

The diagnosis abruptly changed my blog's mission. In those first few days after my doctor's phone call I scoured the internet for information. I came across the blogs of women who have gone before me. They bravely shared their pain, sorrow, and, yes, joys with their readers. I found them a tremendous comfort and from then on, I hoped my blog could "pay it forward" to others who find themselves in the same situation.

Here are three things blogging has done for me in the past year.

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I learned to stay positive

Although I'm known for my sense of humor, I am by nature a bit melancholy. I can quickly assess the downside of any situation I'm in. But I didn't think anyone would want to read sad blog posts on an ongoing basis, and I certainly did not want to paint myself as a victim. In order to fulfill my new blog mission, I had to find the positives. I shared some painful moments, but my ultimate message to readers is "You will get through this." The blog helped me cultivate a positive attitude.

I learned there is power in sharing our stories

Breast cancer treatments are as individual as we are. No two are the same. But I learned from seeing how others got through their treatments and continued on with their lives. Those blogs also helped me in making decisions. By seeing how other women chose their course of treatment, I was better able to choose my own. 

I learned that blogging is a very social activity

At first blush, it would seem that blogging is a solitary activity. In some ways, it is. But writing my blog has put me in touch with a rich and varied community of other bloggers. Unfortunately, in a group centered on breast cancer, sometimes people die. I have mourned for those I never met in real life. I have also admired the courage and stamina of those who are battling the disease. I have also "met" bloggers from all over the world who write about a plethora of subjects - art, photography, parenting, education, religion, running. There are people out there who are willing to mentor new bloggers like me. They are all fascinating people. The blog brought me to them.

I'm still smiling!

If you are considering starting a blog of your own, I highly recommend it. You will find it more rewarding that you thought, and it will probably be more work than you thought. I started this blog with a feeling of trepidation - would it be good enough? Would anyone read it? Today my feeling is triumph!

If you'd like to read more posts about my experience with breast cancer, click on the topics in the sidebar. My journey started with a post titled Schrodinger's Cat. 

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The Blog Gets Some Sprucing Up

If you've visited my blog in the past, you may have noticed I've made changes in its appearance.

When I started The Middle of the Journey nearly a year ago, my goal was to make it easy for me to post. I used a standard Blogger template and graphics and concentrated on writing for it consistently.While I have been a writer for many years, my technical skills were pretty basic.

My new goal for the blog - and the reason I made the changes - is so that it will be easier for you, Dear Reader, to find what you'd like to read and, hopefully, share with others.

I've organized my posts according to a few categories. For example, if you'd like to read more about my experience with breast cancer, it's a simple click in the sidebar. I've also changed fonts, colors, and graphics so they reflect more of "me." I've removed a bit of clutter (including ads) that slowed the page down and made it more difficult to read.

Check out the colorful Blog Makeover Challenger badge in my sidebar. These blog changes are thanks to this challenge and to Daniela Uslan. She is what I would describe as a blogger's blogger. Her mission is to help writers like me clarify and improve their blogs.She has gathered bloggers from all over the world and given us advice, homework, and a community where we can exchange ideas. We're mid-way through the challenge, and it has been a wonderful learning experience for me so far! If you're a blogger - especially if you're new - check out her website for some great advice.

So, what's working and what isn't working for you? I'd love your feedback.

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The End of an Era

Our backyard playscape has sat empty and unused for a number of years now. The toddler for whom it was built is now a 16-year-old. The swings, ladder, tower, and sandbox call out for little ones to play with them. Fortunately, the rector of our church and his wife have two young and energetic children who would love to have their own backyard playground.

So on a rainy Sunday afternoon, volunteers arrived to disassemble it and move it to its new home. The move gives me pause to reflect on the passing of the years.

A lonely playscape

We were living in a condo in our Connecticut town 17 years ago when I found out I was pregnant. Our son arrived on a sunny June day in 1999. The condo was a perfect home - for a while. We knew we needed a yard for our little one. The real estate market was good to us, and we quickly sold the condo and purchased our current home.

Moving is hard on a little one. To make the transition a little easier, we promised that as soon as spring arrived, we would build him an awesome swing set.

The swing set in its heyday on my son's 4th birthday

I was an older mommy and there were to be no more babies, so I was fortunate to be able to stay home with my son for six years.I look back on  them as some of the happiest of my life. Not everyone can make that choice or wants to, but it was right for us.

The swing set was often swarming with children from the neighborhood. It hosted birthday parties and heart-to-heart talks. It was a launch pad for tiny plastic paratroopers, a pirate ship, and the Millennium Falcon. Those interests have given way to basketball, baseball, and now cars.

Moving Day

I am proud of the man my son has become. The pudgy toddler has been replaced by a tall, lanky, teen. He is kind and thoughtful to others. He has a sharp sense of humor and is a solid student in school. I have watched him bloom this year with an interest in theater production. He joined the high school's Unified Theater program, where he worked with students of varying abilities (check out the hashtag #katygaga on Twitter to see what his group did for one of their own).

So the empty space in the backyard represents growth, both for my son and me. I look back fondly on the warm, sunny days spent in our own backyard fantasy land. I look forward to the new adventures to come.I hope the swing set's new owners enjoy it as much as we did.

June Transitions

June is a complicated month for me.

In my younger life, June meant the end of the school year, lazy warm days in the backyard, staying up late, and summer enrichment programs. Later, the month became an end to classes, the beginning of summer jobs and internships, graduations. Now June is the month of my wedding anniversary and my son's birthday (16 years old today!)

But for me June is also flavored with wistfulness, a feeling of letting go, of leaving something behind.

Since being hired in a public school system 10 years ago, I often mark my life by school year, rather than calendar year. September is the time for New Year's resolutions, when we start fresh. June is for good-byes - to high school seniors, to my fifth-grade students who start middle school next year, to retiring colleagues.

This June, I feel like I am also leaving behind the trials of this year.

 Last June I attended a friend's wedding, a beautiful affair held lakeside on a sparkling early summer day. It was a happy, joyous, carefree day, one of the last ones I would have that summer. Weeks later I was going through tests and biopsies that resulted in a diagnosis of breast cancer.

My school year was interrupted for six weeks while I recovered from a bilateral mastectomy. The winter and spring were filled with doctor appointments and eventually more surgery to reconstruct my breasts. Today, I'm looking forward to several months of no doctor appointments and no procedures.

This June, I can see how far I've come. I look back on the dark days of fall and winter and wonder how I made it through.  I feel better today - despite everything I've endured - than I have in years. It makes me wonder if I was sicker for longer than I thought. I know how strong I am - I came through a physical and emotional battering. Once you have breast cancer, other stuff looks pretty small.

I have left behind my old self, but it feels more like a butterfly leaving behind a cocoon. This June, I am healed.

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