In case this term is unknown to you, cerebral metastases means the cancer has spread to my brain. My treatment has worked but Herceptin, the targeted treatment does not get to the brain, so the MRI yesterday showed a few nodules in the brain. The treatment ordered by doctor is radio therapy and further chemo.
Well, life is such. Just when I was planning my trip to Spain, this has to happen. Maybe it's my mother watching over me, maybe its the Allah, as my oncologist say - we can only do our best and the rest depends on ??? God, jesus, guanyin, buddha, Allah, whoever we call...
To me, its fine, as I've lived, and still learning to live...
Please don't be alarmed, and please don't call me, as I'll be in hibernation again.
Just to know that I'm still well, and still healthy(except for the scan or whatever medical records).
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
LIVING IS MUSIC! (by Elisabet)
There is a "before" and an "after" in cancer, as in many other serious diseases. However, I feel like I am more the "before" person. Cancer doesn't define who I am. In fact, I don't talk much about it in my everyday life and don't even think about it most of the time. Cancer sometimes is just a small, unfortunate anecdote in my life. My mind is busy with so many other things and my body is ready to go for a walk, to take a deep breath... and both mind and body are ready to enjoy friends and family gatherings, and to do whatever activity is possible to do. I don't push myself too hard, I am not so demanding about myself. I don't indulge in self-pity and I try not to feel sad about the things I cannot do and, instead, feel happiness and gratefulness for all the things I can do. I've even discovered I can do new things that would have never crossed my mind. I also enjoy the still moments, the time to rest, the time when I am all by myself and may choose to read a book, to write, or to take a nap.
I would like to thank all of you who read this blog and hope that at least part of what I write is meaningful to you or may even help some of you, somehow. I would also like to express my most sincere thanks to Yin San, who encouraged me to write when one day I expressed my wish to write a comment on one of her articles. As soon as I started writing a rough copy at my desk, I realised it was not just a comment, but an article on its own. And she encouraged me to publish it. This is my 4th article and today I can say that writing in this blog has turned out to be a very rewarding experience, and Yin San has become one of my best companions in this journey.
I live in Catalonia, the North-Eastern region of Spain, bathed by the Mediterranean sea and with mountains as high as 2.500 to 3.000 metres above sea level. We are bilingual, as we speak Spanish and Catalan. However, Catalan is our mother tongue and the language we use every day, everywhere. Catalan is more widely spoken than Norwegian or Danish (just to give you two examples). It's a Romance language (from Latin origin) like Spanish, Portuguese, French, Italian, or Rumanian. Catalan literature dates as far back as the Middle Ages. There was a Catalan doctor and poet, Màrius Torres, who lived between 1910 and 1942. He died when he was only 32 of tuberculosis, a common disease at that time. He wrote most of his beautiful poems while fighting against his illness. He loved life as much as I do and he was very fond of music, too. I want to share the last part of one of his poems celebrating life:
"Life might be like an out of tune musical instrument sometimes
and yet living is music!"
P.S. In case you want to know more about Catalan you can check this interesting website :
http://wikitravel.org/en/Catalan_phrasebook
I would like to thank all of you who read this blog and hope that at least part of what I write is meaningful to you or may even help some of you, somehow. I would also like to express my most sincere thanks to Yin San, who encouraged me to write when one day I expressed my wish to write a comment on one of her articles. As soon as I started writing a rough copy at my desk, I realised it was not just a comment, but an article on its own. And she encouraged me to publish it. This is my 4th article and today I can say that writing in this blog has turned out to be a very rewarding experience, and Yin San has become one of my best companions in this journey.
I live in Catalonia, the North-Eastern region of Spain, bathed by the Mediterranean sea and with mountains as high as 2.500 to 3.000 metres above sea level. We are bilingual, as we speak Spanish and Catalan. However, Catalan is our mother tongue and the language we use every day, everywhere. Catalan is more widely spoken than Norwegian or Danish (just to give you two examples). It's a Romance language (from Latin origin) like Spanish, Portuguese, French, Italian, or Rumanian. Catalan literature dates as far back as the Middle Ages. There was a Catalan doctor and poet, Màrius Torres, who lived between 1910 and 1942. He died when he was only 32 of tuberculosis, a common disease at that time. He wrote most of his beautiful poems while fighting against his illness. He loved life as much as I do and he was very fond of music, too. I want to share the last part of one of his poems celebrating life:
"Life might be like an out of tune musical instrument sometimes
and yet living is music!"
P.S. In case you want to know more about Catalan you can check this interesting website :
http://wikitravel.org/en/Catalan_phrasebook
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Celebrate each day
Tomorrow is the 15th day of Chinese New Year and the last day of celebration. This is the first time ever that I celebrate new year to the fullest, without having to go to work, nor to worry about hospital.
There were parties, gatherings, reunions, Jade Emporer's birthday, karaoke, friends and relatives. Just enjoying every moment. Today I bought a new 42" plasma TV so that I could use the blue-ray DVD player hijacked from dad's, and my friend said 1 inch for every year. However, in the Kuan Yin temple yesterday, the person told me I am already 43, according to the Chinese age! How time flies!
Few days ago, a friend wrote that her sister, a breast cancer survivor of 10 years passed away. I started counting the many people who died in recent years. Just few weeks ago, a friend lost her mum, someone else lost her grandma. There were streams of news about friends, former teachers, or some known people leaving us. Where have they gone? Would their energy still be lingering around, based on the law of physics that energy cannot be created nor destroyed, but only transformed? So, how has the energy of the deads been transformed? How about energy of the livings? Surely these are all part of the larger system, and inter-connected.
While there are many things we haven't figured out, the best we could do is to celebrate each day, and make sure we transform our own energy into something positive.
There were parties, gatherings, reunions, Jade Emporer's birthday, karaoke, friends and relatives. Just enjoying every moment. Today I bought a new 42" plasma TV so that I could use the blue-ray DVD player hijacked from dad's, and my friend said 1 inch for every year. However, in the Kuan Yin temple yesterday, the person told me I am already 43, according to the Chinese age! How time flies!
Few days ago, a friend wrote that her sister, a breast cancer survivor of 10 years passed away. I started counting the many people who died in recent years. Just few weeks ago, a friend lost her mum, someone else lost her grandma. There were streams of news about friends, former teachers, or some known people leaving us. Where have they gone? Would their energy still be lingering around, based on the law of physics that energy cannot be created nor destroyed, but only transformed? So, how has the energy of the deads been transformed? How about energy of the livings? Surely these are all part of the larger system, and inter-connected.
While there are many things we haven't figured out, the best we could do is to celebrate each day, and make sure we transform our own energy into something positive.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Off chemo today, still on targeted therapy til nex scan
Spent the whole day in the hospital - 9 hours!
Doctor saw the PET/CT scan, discussed with me that he will cut the chemo and retained Herceptin.
Next scan March, and hopefully I'll be off treatment if the scan remains clear!
Doctor saw the PET/CT scan, discussed with me that he will cut the chemo and retained Herceptin.
Next scan March, and hopefully I'll be off treatment if the scan remains clear!
Friday, December 30, 2011
PET/CT SCAN shows no cancer cells!
Just did a PET/CT today, and the doctor said no sign of cancer cells!
A good way to end the year, and a good start for 2012.
Time to celebrate!
A good way to end the year, and a good start for 2012.
Time to celebrate!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Just did my last chemo for 2011!
Very happy to have found out that Navelbine is available at tablet form. However, it is going to cost about 3x more. After discussing with doctors about my condition, to which he opened up my 3 CT scans from May, Sep and Nov, he cleared my doubt about the bone involvement. From the scans, he showed me the spots which has hardened, which means no signs of active cancer cells, and convinced me that the spots found in the bone showed healing sign. The best news is, he is giving me a break for 1 month, and I will only return for the next CT scan on Jan 20th 2012!
So, I can now celebrate the rests of 2011 without visiting the hospital!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!
So, I can now celebrate the rests of 2011 without visiting the hospital!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Adaptations (by Elisabet)
Species usually find their ways and resources to adapt to a new environment which seemed hostile at the beginning. Humans are no exception. We may admire how a tree can turn a branch into a root in order to survive (like the yew tree) or how a bird can develop a longer and sharper beak to reach the food that will prevent it from starving. We humans have a very powerful tool, called mind, to help us adapt to changes. However, we sometimes tend to underestimate its power. When the life we used to know makes a sudden, unexpected turn, our mind is able to find the mechanisms to adapt to the new situation. It's just a matter of time; it may take us longer or shorter, but the mechanism is there and ready to start working.
When I began my second chemotherapy treatment I would sit resignedly on the reclining armchair and try to concentrate on my book while having chemo, only waiting for the time it ended so I could go back home. I had already noticed that old lady with a young woman accompanying her; I had seen them a couple of times in the hospital corridors before. The surprise came the day we shared the same treatment room: it was the young one who sat on the treatment armchair next to mine, whereas the old lady took the companion seat. They were mother and daughter. I looked at the daughter and saw that smile on her face, her relaxed countenance, her sweet expression showing not resignation, but hope.
I realised I could change my attitude; I wanted to be able to smile that way, too. I knew I could. I had done it before. I didn't even open my book that day. The young woman dozed off to sleep and so did I. The next time we were placed together in the same room we said hello with big smiles on our faces and started talking. We haven't stopped talking since that day because we've become friends. She's 34 years old. We sometimes meet in the waiting room before treatment and, after a brief introduction about how we've been feeling lately, we start talking about anything that comes up, just as if we were sitting in a cafe or a tea-house having a nice chat over a cup of coffee or tea.
A few weeks ago I was sharing the treatment room with another young woman whom I had never seen before. I guessed it was her first session, as she was very quiet and looked scared. So I smiled at her and said hello. We were talking for a while and by the end of my session I could feel that her fears had subsided a little. The next time I saw her she told me she was feeling better and sat on the treatment chair with a smile on her face. The story seems to go on and on...
I smile at everybody now: at the nurses, at the doctors, at the people from the administration desk... and everybody smiles back. It's very rewarding. I've even changed the way I dress when I go to hospital. At the beginning I used to wear clothes I didn't like much, thinking: Bah, this will do, it's just to go to hospital. Who cares? Well, now I do. Now I find myself dressing up almost as if I was going to the movies on a Sunday evening. After all, I'm going to meet maybe one or two friends, some familiar faces,... nice people.
Some days ago I was watching a TV documentary about the popular organisation called Médicos sin fronteras (Doctors without borders). It was a Spanish team working in Zimbabwe with the people who suffer from AIDS. They had been distributing condoms and all the medicines required for treatment. There was a big group of people coming from different villages, all of them under treatment, and they were dancing and singing together: girls, boys, women, men... all ages. The songs spoke about how happy they felt because they could fight the disease, because they could live longer and feel better, and they were encouraging others to undergo blood tests and not to feel ashamed if they had AIDS. They felt proud of themselves, of their fight. And the songs were sung in their own Zimbabwean rhythms... wonderful! I especially liked it because many times I've thought about gathering all my friends suffering from breast cancer and sing and dance together. This would make a very nice adaptation. A powerful one.
MSF built a medical centre there, not only to perform blood tests and deliver the necessary tablets, but also with a room where people could gather together and talk about their worries and concerns, about their plans for the future, about fighting,... about living. One of them said she had such a nice time chatting with her new friends there. A 16-year-old girl said that when she could stop coughing she'd like to become a singer.
Smiling, chatting, dressing up, having walks, singing, dancing, reading, writing, drawing, making new friends... we people sometimes don't seem to be fully aware of the many adaptations we can grow when faced with a life-threatening disease and what happiness we can experience under these circumstances. I received this message some days ago, "Happy chemo! To both of us!" Great!
There is this saying in English that goes like this:
"Make new friends but keep the old, the first are silver, the second are gold".
Well, I must say new friends are also gold to me now. They are gold shining very bright under the warm autumn Sun.
When I began my second chemotherapy treatment I would sit resignedly on the reclining armchair and try to concentrate on my book while having chemo, only waiting for the time it ended so I could go back home. I had already noticed that old lady with a young woman accompanying her; I had seen them a couple of times in the hospital corridors before. The surprise came the day we shared the same treatment room: it was the young one who sat on the treatment armchair next to mine, whereas the old lady took the companion seat. They were mother and daughter. I looked at the daughter and saw that smile on her face, her relaxed countenance, her sweet expression showing not resignation, but hope.
I realised I could change my attitude; I wanted to be able to smile that way, too. I knew I could. I had done it before. I didn't even open my book that day. The young woman dozed off to sleep and so did I. The next time we were placed together in the same room we said hello with big smiles on our faces and started talking. We haven't stopped talking since that day because we've become friends. She's 34 years old. We sometimes meet in the waiting room before treatment and, after a brief introduction about how we've been feeling lately, we start talking about anything that comes up, just as if we were sitting in a cafe or a tea-house having a nice chat over a cup of coffee or tea.
A few weeks ago I was sharing the treatment room with another young woman whom I had never seen before. I guessed it was her first session, as she was very quiet and looked scared. So I smiled at her and said hello. We were talking for a while and by the end of my session I could feel that her fears had subsided a little. The next time I saw her she told me she was feeling better and sat on the treatment chair with a smile on her face. The story seems to go on and on...
I smile at everybody now: at the nurses, at the doctors, at the people from the administration desk... and everybody smiles back. It's very rewarding. I've even changed the way I dress when I go to hospital. At the beginning I used to wear clothes I didn't like much, thinking: Bah, this will do, it's just to go to hospital. Who cares? Well, now I do. Now I find myself dressing up almost as if I was going to the movies on a Sunday evening. After all, I'm going to meet maybe one or two friends, some familiar faces,... nice people.
Some days ago I was watching a TV documentary about the popular organisation called Médicos sin fronteras (Doctors without borders). It was a Spanish team working in Zimbabwe with the people who suffer from AIDS. They had been distributing condoms and all the medicines required for treatment. There was a big group of people coming from different villages, all of them under treatment, and they were dancing and singing together: girls, boys, women, men... all ages. The songs spoke about how happy they felt because they could fight the disease, because they could live longer and feel better, and they were encouraging others to undergo blood tests and not to feel ashamed if they had AIDS. They felt proud of themselves, of their fight. And the songs were sung in their own Zimbabwean rhythms... wonderful! I especially liked it because many times I've thought about gathering all my friends suffering from breast cancer and sing and dance together. This would make a very nice adaptation. A powerful one.
MSF built a medical centre there, not only to perform blood tests and deliver the necessary tablets, but also with a room where people could gather together and talk about their worries and concerns, about their plans for the future, about fighting,... about living. One of them said she had such a nice time chatting with her new friends there. A 16-year-old girl said that when she could stop coughing she'd like to become a singer.
Smiling, chatting, dressing up, having walks, singing, dancing, reading, writing, drawing, making new friends... we people sometimes don't seem to be fully aware of the many adaptations we can grow when faced with a life-threatening disease and what happiness we can experience under these circumstances. I received this message some days ago, "Happy chemo! To both of us!" Great!
There is this saying in English that goes like this:
"Make new friends but keep the old, the first are silver, the second are gold".
Well, I must say new friends are also gold to me now. They are gold shining very bright under the warm autumn Sun.
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