Someone recently asked me how I deal with the anger that comes with being dismissed for so long with rare disease.
So you just got your diagnosis. Itās hard to know how to feel, right? Thankful that you have answers? Angry that countless times you were told it was in your head? That you couldnāt POSSIBLY have that, only to have EXACTLY that..
Pheochromocytoma/paraganglioma are considered a very rare disease. The diagnostic process is a bit different for rare disease patients, and it comes with a different set of emotions when the diagnosis is finally delivered.
Iām going to talk a little bit about how I personally cope with the emotions that come from diagnosis, and what I do with the anger that comes along with it.
Of course no one wants to be sick, but with the untreated symptoms wreaking havoc on your body… honestly, by that time we are often praying for a diagnosis. Without a diagnosis, thereās no opportunity to heal, to take control back. To do something! Itās a strange dynamic, praying to be told youāre sick. Then the moment itās confirmed.. we will give anything to be told weāre āfineā again.
My first diagnosis came as a complete shock, I was 19, Iād understandably never heard of pheochromocytoma before. I never actually thought I had a 1 in a million tumor, not once did that run through my mind. I just thought I was just having sporadic attacks that made me feel like I was going to die every day. I was also relieved. I was relieved that I didnāt have to argue anymore, to prove myself to anyone. I was finally going to be able to take control over my body, and get treated. Or so I thought…
My second diagnosis was different, itād been 4 years since my first Pheo, and Iād never been symptom free. I still dealt with the daily attacks from the adrenaline, and was being told that I was fine all over again. It was like I was stuck in a time warp that would repeat itself every day for years. I was continuously being convinced that I was ājustā anxious, that my blood pressure machine was wrong, my blood sugar is probably just low, etc. I heard it all. I still hear these things every day from people around the world.
My second diagnosis was a different experience, because I knew I had the disease, I knew exactly what it was, I just needed the proof. And then by the time I got proof, it was considered terminal. I was now terminally ill at 24 years old. Tough pill to swallow. How am I supposed to feel this time?
Thereās no right or wrong feeling. The first time- I felt shock and then the fear of uncertainty quickly set in.
What will my future look like? Will I be able to go back to work? Will I have a normal love life? Will I always be in pain? Am I going to constantly have to be worried about it coming back? Am I going to be treated differently? Do I want to be treated differently? Am I different?
The second time- all I felt was numb, and then anger set in. I was so angry. My husband was angry. We were outraged that this could be able to happen, only… Iād find out later that it happens more than I think
I think I can confidently say I hear at least 1 person per DAY that is going through this. With this specific disease. This incredibly rare disease. Itās been six years since my diagnosis, so thatās a lot of people.
Iām generally a very happy, positive, bubbly-type chatty person. I donāt like feeling so negatively for extended periods of time. Holding onto anger. But I also know now that itās important to acknowledge your feelings, so that you can work through them. Toxic positivity isnāt a better solution, being positive and hopeful needs to come from a place of true belief. That way the negative emotions donāt become pent up little balls of anger that burst at any given random time.
I initially channeled my anger into taking my control back, my plan? Getting a new medical team. One that would hear me, and be specialized. I needed a miracle team. I felt like if I could regain a sense of control.. Iād be able to feel different. I didnāt know what emotion I was looking for, I just needed to get past anger. I didnāt realize that Iād be holding onto that toxic feeling for longer than Iād like to admit.
Itās similar to the process of grief, youāre grieving your old life, your sense of normalcy, your old self. The ability to do mundane tasks, to relate to others in your circle, in your age group, the feeling of not knowing the importance and impact of living. Itās a hard dynamic for me because I was always so young, and I felt cheated out of a lot of opportunities I KNEW I would be amazing at. We all have things to grieve, it needs to be done.
So letās talk more about how I regained that control. 48 hours after my diagnosis, I had arranged to see a new specialist, a whole new team. I knew I needed the best, I was 24 and given a poor prognosis. Honestly? I was dying, and they werenāt shy about telling me so. You donāt mess around when it comes to your health, you do anything and everything to change your circumstances.
Securing this new team… it made me feel I had purpose, that I was capable, I felt proud. These emotions are a lot better than anger, am I right?
As I rebuilt trust with these new doctors, fragments of anger would slowly chip away. My fear of not being heard, was slowly diminishing. Time. It takes time.
But what if we donāt have time? Iām terminal, I donāt have time to go through this long process.
Terminal illness isnāt a ticking time clock, it FEELS like that at the beginning… believe me. But I am here to remind you, eventually, with this precious time, your mindset changes.
I decided I needed an outlet for the fear, anger, and acceptance I so badly needed.
Thatās when I started my blog, as a way of channeling these feelings into something good. Something with purpose. I wanted to know my experience meant something. I wanted my diagnosis to be an example for health care practitioners around the world. I wanted my story to be told to EVERY single pheochromocytoma patient.
I wanted my words to live on forever knowing they were making a difference.
Channeling your fear and anger into helping yourself? Thatās a beautiful feeling.
Channeling fear and anger into helping someone else? That is when those fragments become whole again.
But letās back up, Iām not saying everyone has to start a blog. What I am saying is that itās important to get your feelings OUT, write them down somehow. Whether that be a journal, a support group, a diary, or a video blog. Even if you just talk to your camera and never share it! Whatever you feel comfortable with, itās important to let your story be heard. Even if itās just for you, this type of therapeutic action is something that for me, changed my life.
Iāve recommended different types of journals, diaries, gratitude practice, all different sorts of ways of expressing feelings to many people over the years: Iāve never heard someone say it didnāt help them in some small way.
Hereās the hard part: forgiveness. Eventually, down the road… I forgave everyone who I was still holding onto anger towards. This is NOT an easy step, I wonāt sugar coat it. To get to this point, itās a lot of work. Self discovery, trauma healing, mental health practices, growth. However, actually doing it? Meaning it?
Itās so unbelievably freeing.
I know I probably donāt need to remind anyone of this, but forgiveness is not for the other person. Itās for YOU. Itās so that youāre not suffering with those toxic feelings all your life, those fragments that are making you feel broken, while they are out in the world not even giving it a thought. You donāt have to personally forgive them, you do it however you want to. Whatever makes you feel safe.
It can be through prayer, you can again write it down, or just sit alone with yourself and say it aloud. You can role play with someone you trust.
I personally did just that, all of the ways. I had a lot to get off my chest, a lot of years of trauma and forgiveness. I only recently got to this step, after 6 years. Everyoneās time line is different, and thatās okay. Even if you decide, āno, I canāt possibly forgive someone who did this to meā
Thatās okay too.
This is YOUR healing process, and you do with it what you decide. I can only let you know what I did, and what helped me. Made me feel whole again.
Iāve had a lot of people come to me and say āI could never do thatā. Iām with you, Iāve been there. I said that repeatedly in the beginning, then it shifted to āone day, I think Iāll be readyā and then one day, I knew I was
So as you can see, it takes time, no one situation is a one size fits all. However we are all still very similar, and much closer than you think. Thatās what being part of a community is. No matter what type of diagnosis youāre receiving, itās going to change your life. It doesnāt have to change you, the person you are inside.
Your āfabulousā…
āFabulous is your light, your smile, your energy, your positivity, your willfulness, your vitality, passion, excitement, beauty, laugh, and how you share it!ā ā Pheo VS Fabulous
Iād like to send out a personal acknowledgement to everyone surviving and thriving today. Being national cancer survivors day, I thought this would be the perfect time to share this incredibly important article.
When people hear cancer survivor, they think past tense, someone whoās ābeatā cancer and is alive today.
A survivor is someone whoās been diagnosed, actively in treatment, in remission, and someone like me, whoās a mix of all of the above. Someone whoās surviving every day, never having the time where they can say itās in their past. But they can say –
āHarmonious self regulation is the bodyās natural state, stress pulls you into another state, of heightened biological responses that triggers a flow of hormones, increased heart rate, stimulate the hyper-vigilance of the senses, and many other linked reactions. But these are all temporary, they are emergency responses onlyā.
Letās talk about this šš» I read this last night in one of my @chopra novels.
It actually hit me pretty hard. Although this is scientifically true, for someone who suffers with my disease, this response is NO longer a emergency response. It can happen anytime. Without warning ā ļø
On a normal day, I agree with that statement. To my core. I practice gratitude, inner self healing, I meditate, I let go of toxic feelings, i detox my life often of stress. So with that said…
Imagine your body being able to cause this stress response to igniteā¦ WITHOUT the presence of a threat, or any type of apparent stress š¤Æ
Pheochromocytoma tumors produce those stress hormones, the very ones heās talking about.
Igniting the bodyās natural response state to stress, exceptā¦ Iām stuck in that state, all the time. My neurologist recently described it as being chased by a wooly mammoth, the fear and stress response ignites (fight or flight) and then followed by saying ābut for you, the chasing never ends. Youāre always being chased, and your body can never restā
We donāt get the option. We donāt have that basic human function to decide if we are happy or not š our body decides for us.
I know some of you may not get this, you may be thinking āyou just need to do more inner work to find your true happinessā. Itās a normal response to something people canāt possibly understand, which is why Iām doing my best to explain it.
What Iām getting at is that this is a physiological time bomb we carry around that decides chemically how weāre going to feel for a certain period of time. Itās an actual sudden, rapid, release of stress hormones that put your body into a state of fight or flight.
That can manifest differently for some. If someoneās untreated and undiagnosed, theyāll feel it normally as if theyāre suddenly going to die. Itās not just an emotional response, itās a physical reactive state where your blood pressure elevates, your heart rate suddenly increases, and that comes with symptoms like sudden brain squeezing headaches, shaking, intense nausea or vomiting, it truly is a physical assault from your own body.
For most, they have to adapt to it for a few months and then they get surgery. But me, weāre friends for life. Weāre in this till the end, me and Pheo. Pheo and I
Since Iāve done countless treatments, and am well managed with medications, I donāt experience that type of physical intensity that often anymore. However, the emotional stress response is very friggin real.
I donāt want to complicate this too much, but I also have comorbidities that create the same hormonal imbalance and sudden stress responses. Adrenal insufficiency, and mast cell activation syndrome. Iām basically a little bomb of chemical reactions š
So I thought itād be a good time to just kind of touch on this subject since I donāt talk about it very often.
Iāll use yesterday as an example, I rested all day, felt amazing, better than I had in quite some time, was so happy. I felt like my resting efforts were paying off. I had no stress surrounding my body. My husband and I had a much needed movie and rest day, the vibe was just perfect.
Around 10pmā¦ it felt like a RAGE I bomb was igniting inside of me. It just hit me like a ton of bricks. I was scraping an avocado and suddenly felt like I was going to throw it at the wall. Get this, I was making avocado brownies. BROWNIES guys. If thereās ever a time to feel happy and at peace… itās when making brownies
For those of you reading this that donāt have the disease, Imagine your worst PMS outburst youāve ever had, and multiply that 1000x – no warning, no control. Just a massive chemical response. And for men, just imagine your most reactive moment, any cause, and Multiply THAT, but keep in mind you have no control over it.
The panic, the anger, the rage, these are all stress hormones. And they come without permission or cause š
Thatās my best way to explain what living with pheochromocytoma feels like, and it only gets messier with comorbidities that create similar stress responses.
Last night, even after ten+ years of living with this disease, I was still surprised at the intensity of what I felt. It made no sense. Especially because it wasnāt accompanied by the physical response I normally experience. It was purely emotional. To me, thereās nothing worse than feeling out of control of my body.
I did everything right, and my body still betrayed me. It also feels like Iām a broken record when I say āitās not me, itās my body! I canāt control it!ā
It FEELS like a load of BS, even I sometimes challenge whether or not thatās true and I have the damn disease. So I canāt imagine how hard it is for the people who love us that are in the war path when this happens. Thatās the part I hate the most. Iād give anything to be able to control myself at least when it comes to the people I love, Iām sure anyone reading this knows the feeling Iām talking about. The guilt you feel the moment you snap at your loved one about something that makes no sense. Brownies guys. I had an explosive response to making brownies. If it was just me and the brownies, I could have taken it, itās when you react badly to your loved one. Itās wounding in a way I canāt quite explain. The heavy guilt that comes with it, especially as you utter the words āI canāt control itā …
Even if they know, they understand, and they love you regardless, it doesnāt erase the feeling that I have when this happens. My husband is the most understanding person in my universe, he never takes offence, and he certainly doesnāt make it worse. But … that doesnāt change MY guilt, rational or not, it still sits heavy in my heart
Iād do anything to be able to control my feelings, sometimes Iād prefer the physical response rather than this irrational emotional eruption. Because then itās just me that has to feel the wrath of my cancer when itās physical. But then I remind myself, thatās not true either. Your loved one still very much feels it.
And thatās the worst part for me.
Pheo VS Fabulous
Whatās your biggest struggle when it comes to living with this disease?
ĖkansÉr/ ā disease; causing the body and mind to adapt, overcome, and embrace change.
Quality of Life:
What do these three seemingly simple words mean to you?
Someone who is living with a permanent illness which will impact their āquality of lifeā will hear this phrase from time to time. For someone like me, who is considered a āpalliative care patientā (which is a polite way of saying my disease will eventually kill me) this term gets thrown around a lot. But do we ever stop to think about what it truly means? Being 30 and terminally ill, I have to think about often.
I used to just see it as a phrase. I actually used to see many things as just phrases, words put together to fill silences in sterile rooms to allow for some sort of relief from the inevitable uncomfortable points of cancer. That is, until you live them and you are intimate with each word. You get to know what each one will mean to you; you get to appreciate what kind of quality youād like to live, and start to live it. I am going to share my perception of these words, and hopefully they will not just be words to you either.
Before I do that, let me introduce myself. My name is Miranda, Iām a 30 year old with a rare form of terminal cancer called pheochromocytoma. Iāve been living with this disease in some way or another since I was about 17-18, and officially diagnosed at 19. After my initial surgery to remove a large ābenignā tumor, I was misdiagnosed with anxiety for 4 years, which led to my eventual terminal cancer diagnosis.
I vowed two things in that moment: one being that I would do everything in my power to prevent this from happening to someone else by sharing my story and learning how to advocate further for rare diseases. I didnāt realize where this vow would take me, eventually filling a large gap for a rare disease that should have never had the opportunity to be terminal. And two, I vowed that cancer would never take my FABULOUS.
I wrote this mission statement when I first started my blog:
āPheo VS Fabulous was born from the promise that I would never let this disease take away the one thing I could control, and Iāve labeled that my fabulous. When I became ill I realized how much we take for granted, and it started with how day to day tasks are so challenging when youāre battling an illness like pheochromocytoma cancer, thatās when I decided I wouldnāt let it take that away from me. Itās more than just looking a certain way, itās about BEING fabulous, strong, and positive when you have every reason not to beā
Youāre probably wondering, WHAT IS pheochromocytoma? Iāll try to keep it as simple as possible. Itās essentially a tumor or tumor(s) that secrete or produce adrenaline. Adrenaline and noradrenaline are hormones that we actually need to function as the trigger for your bodyās āfight or flightā response. These hormones prompt higher blood pressure, a faster heart rate and a boost in other body systems that allow you to react quickly with a burst of energy. *Think, lion attack!* A pheochromocytoma ultimately makes you overdose at any given time on these hormones, without warning, which we pheo people like to call āattacksā. Think: lion attack… with no lion? Essentially your tumor is attacking you with your own stinkinā adrenaline! This causes your body to suddenly react with high blood pressure, increased heart rate and palpitations, and a whole lot of other deadly symptoms. I say deadly because if uncontrolled or untreated, these attacks are life threatening. So not only do I have cancer, but I have a cancer that tries to kill me multiple times a day with itās poison IN my body. Fun, right? I also donāt just have one, I have metastatic disease and have anywhere from 30+ at any given time. (This is reduced greatly!)
Being so young and considered terminal, Iāve had to learn a lot about the phrase, āquality of lifeā. Itās meant to bring a sense of comfort, a sign that no matter what the cancer is going to take from you, we are going to do our best to keep you comfortable while all of these changes take place, and most importantly, just keep you who you are.
We cannot simply continue to live our pre-cancer, ānormal livesāā¦right? Well, I kinda thought I could. I think we all do in some respects, and thatās normal. The difficulty is realizing where you need to adjust your expectations. I didnāt say give up there, did I? Time to ADAPT.
So here comes the hard part, once YOU start to change, no one but you can prepare you for this. The next time you hear āYouāre so strong!ā, donāt shy away from it. Think about what it means to them, what it means to you, and how you have truly earned it. So, you start changing, and this āquality of lifeā thing everyone keeps talking about, seems like a very far away ideal at this point.
āHow am I supposed to have any sort of Quality of Life when this disease is doing nothing but take take take?ā
āI donāt even have a LIFE anymore, how am I supposed to have a āqualityā one?ā
āEverything I am doing is supposed to āprovide me with better quality of lifeā, but after every procedure Iām left feeling worse and can do less.ā
āHow am I not supposed to lose hope?ā
My disease moves quickly, sometimes it seems like I can blink and not recognize myself physically, or suddenly go from walking around seemingly ānormalā to being completely bed ridden for months and needing a wheelchair the rest of the time. THAT was the most surprising, and still isā¦ the uncertainty and element of surprise.
Did I tell you how wonderful it feels to simply be a little more kind to yourself?
Change is constant, and I need to be willing to accept that although my life is very different, itās mine. The fact that I wake up every day is a beautiful thing. Understanding that even the smallest victories are worth celebrating, simple joys are to be found and appreciated every day, because these āsmallā and āsimpleā thingsā¦ probably mean the world to you. I now go through life dreaming that everyone could see it through my eyes. Living with cancer has shown me what a gift life is, the complexity of it all becomes so simple.
Embracing change
Throughout most of my story, Iāve chosen to share personal aspects of my life to help others come to the same realizations and places I have, but hopefully avoid a lot of suffering along the way. Iāve experienced surgeries, clinical trials, treatment after treatment, finding the “best” doctors. Iāve been labelled palliative at 25 years old old, terminal, metastatic, aggressive, all the things you donāt want to hear. Iāve been confined to a bed, a wheelchair, and at times lost my sense of independence. I lost my voice, my ability to share, and my hope. I never thought Iād get through it.
But we did. Because cancer makes you ADAPT and OVERCOME.
I say āweā because my husband goes through all of this with me, from the very beginning. Since my first diagnosis, heās been by my side. Heās my voice when I donāt have one, and heās my biggest supporter when I do. He is my caregiver, my everything. And our loved ones go through this journey just as much as we do.
I want to share with you a glimpse of what my life looked like a few years ago, when I thought I only had a year to live, what led me HERE today.
When they first introduced the idea to set up a bed in my living room to improve my quality of life, I thought, “now!? Iām only 25 years old, Iām not putting a hospital bed in my living room, that will never go with my decor!” (priorities, jeezeā¦).
Remember those simple joys? Small victories? Well THIS was the greatest joy, a godsend, a MASSIVE victory! I could see out a window, have LIFE fluttering around me, I can see my husband cooking in the kitchen, I can see my dogs run around the house, I could go and choose a very pink blanket for my new bed (ha!). I can actually walk to the kitchen and serve myself a drink or snack when Iām feeling well, I can drift off to sleep right in front of my fireplace.
Thatās what quality of life is. Those arenāt just words, This is MYlife.
You too will be able to adapt to your new changing situation, overcome your new challenges, and embrace the changes as they come. You just have to rememberā¦ your new life is exactly that, a new life. You must explore the beauty it has to show, the joy it has to give, and the blessings it has to offer. Just remember, thereās no right or wrong when it comes to your life. As long as youāre the one whoās smiling at the beginning and end of it!
The most incredible part of this story? Iām 30 now, and after going through all of that, supposedly having a year to live, Iām still here sharing, thriving, and learning more every day.
Iām no longer confined to a bed, I no longer live in constant fear, I have accepted that Iām living with cancer. THRIVING with terminal cancer. I have continued to adapt and overcome and change my circumstances through hard work and advocacy. My quality of life now is a direct result of the information and research we have put into figuring out how to improve my treatments and symptom management, always taking the chance, and fighting so so so pretty.
I have learned how to forgive but not forget in order to continue to help others with this cancer, help them not only live but hopefully thrive. The best part? I never once lost my fabulous.
Fabulous is your light, your smile, your energy, your positivity, your willfulness, your vitality, passion, excitement, beauty, laugh, and how you share it! I canāt wait to share it with all of you, and hopefully have you share with me. Iām so grateful to be part of an incredible community of fierce thrivers. I look forward to seeing YOUR light, smile, and beauty! š¤šš¼
Iām feeling very inspired lately, my urge to make a difference is strong.
I sometimes get an overwhelming feeling of responsibility to prevent what happened to me, from happening to someone else.
I know I canāt save the world, I know I canāt prevent every terminal diagnosis, misdiagnosis, and suffering.
Thatās not going to stop me from trying.
Thereās a number of things Iāve learned over the past year or so, my brain is more awake. Iāve come to realize there are so many important aspects of healing, and improving quality of life.
The issue started with the moment I was diagnosed with terminal illness, it was like my life became less important. That my life was no longer going to be about living, but dying.
I donāt accept this view, this is why Iām challenging the way terminal illness is viewed. Even by ourselves.
The purpose of this post was to share some specific points of my treatment and management journey, so that maybe someone whoās living with metastatic pheochromocytoma or similar, can maybe take something from my experience. As we know, thereās no cure. Only symptom management.
But as I write, itās become more powerful than just a bullet point list of things that have helped me.
Treatment isnāt a one size fits all, nor can it happen overnight.
Iāve suffered, Iāve triumphed, Iāve lost hope, regained hope, fought for my life, and continue to keep living. Really living. Iāve accepted that Iāll never ring a bell that tells the world āIām cured!ā
So Iām going to share with you a recap of my treatment journey, and then Iām going to expand into what Iāve learned about healing and improving my overall quality of life.
Feel free to get lost in the highlighted linked words and read detailed past experiences
Keep reading, it gets good.
October 2014– diagnosed with terminal metastatic pheochromocytoma after being misdiagnosed with anxiety for 4 years
November 2014– changed doctors and formed an entire medical team specializing in rare neuroendocrine tumors
I didnāt know why, but I felt that overwhelming urge to share. To document. I wanted my misdiagnosis to have purpose. I wanted to be heard. I wanted it to matter.
April 2015– started my blog, sharing my experience, channeling my anger into helping others.
May 2015- first treatment effort: had a massive surgery to de-bulk the amount of disease
(I had over 50 tumors at this time)
November 2015- started losing my hair, no known reason at the time other than stress on the body, started to see more physical impact of the disease
Exactly one year later after my terminal diagnosis, I received another life changing diagnosis.
My remaining adrenal died. I was now going to be reliant on steroids to live for the remainder of my life. I was now adrenal insufficient.
Atleast this explained the hair loss and not being able to keep my eyes open for more than 30 seconds at a time. Problem solved.
Not quite… but more on that later
January 2016- happy new year! Just kidding, time for my introduction to specialized radiotherapy. This is not radiation, this is direct radioactive poison into your blood stream.
Things would move quickly now, my symptoms were out of control. They needed to intervene, and quickly. But thereās a lot of prep to do for a serious procedure like this safely.
Within the first 20 days of January:
Bone marrow transplant: This was one of the most uncomfortable things I did, as far as pain. Who knew Iād have to go through several procedures just to get ONE treatment? Itās a stem cell transfer where you donate your bone marrow to yourself in case of failure after radiotherapy treatment. Itās quite genius actually. I highly recommend doing this, because if your marrow fails, you need to find a transplant match. In my case, it was just waiting for me on ice in a special vault. Cool, right?
pharmaceutical blockade: preparing my body for the extreme dose of poison. Trying to get my vitals to a low level so that when my tumors explode adrenaline during treatment, I wonāt die.
Complications: my thyroid stopped working. More medication for life. But atleast I wonāt keep suffering from all those weird unexplained symptoms, right? Wrong, my adrenal insufficiency would continuously be an issue with all of the stress on my body, I could never get enough cortisol. I was burning it too quickly, my body was too stressed from all of the prep, I hadnāt even done the treatment yet.
Well now that Iām ready for MIBG, itās time to administer the treatment.
January 20th: 3:30pm-5:30pm I became a medical experiment, a spectacle. One of the first to undergo such a treatment at the hospital for this disease. A scary, and confusing time for everyone involved. You can read about my experience here
All better. Just kidding, I actually felt a lot worse. I was in so much pain, and I couldnāt get my attacks under control. The MIBG treatment actually set off my tumors more, so I was suffering greatly. I was praying every day for a moment of reprieve. I thought Iād never see a good day again. I didnāt know what it felt like to be normal anymore. I just knew pain.
March 2016– āI donāt know what to do next…ā this is not something you want to hear from your highly specialized doctor. But even the best doctors become perplexed when it comes to such a rare disease. Especially when itās not cooperating. At all. It was just getting worse. It would be a bit of time before Iād get the official round of data compiled to know whether or not it had worked. Letās stay hopeful
May 2016- it had kind of made a difference, but the results were ādisappointingā. Great. Now what do we do? More tests of course.
June 2016– test month. Sooo many tests. So much travel. We are exhausted š¢
July 2016- it canāt get worse? Can it? Until it did. Chemo is being discussed. No no no, chemo is the last option. Thatās what I was told in the beginning and it never left my mind. āChemo is only something we do when thereās nothing left, itās not a very effective option for this type of cancerā. So why are we doing it now?! Itās not the end. Iāll keep fighting. I promise! Iāll do anything.
Too bad, itās time to introduce another team member: an oncologist.
July 27 2016- the oncologist. I actually really liked him, I still do. Heās an essential part of my team. Every mind is better than one. But I didnāt agree with his ideas at the time. I did NOT want to chemo, I did however that day learn about immunotherapy, TK inhibitor therapies, and so much more.
August 2016: new plan. I want PRRT. I heard about it from a support group, yes thatās right. A potential radiotherapy experimental treatment I was betting my future on, I heard from another thriver. See the importance of sharing? So we pushed heavily for this treatment, but it was still in clinical trial phase, oh boy. Iād need to meet a lot of requirements, only 50 people were being accepted.. only 4 places in the world were doing it.. ok my odds arenāt looking great.
You havenāt met doctor cupcakes.
Within 24 hours I was accepted into the testing for the clinical trial. My husband is a miracle worker, or he just really loves me. This is only part 1, a highly specialized scan that can look at the tumors at a cellular level. This was considered the gold standard. I wanted it, I needed it. I was getting it!
Hereās the thing with the scan, itās not like a regular CT scan or MRI. These types of scans are specific to neuroendocrine tumors like mine. It wonāt pick up a regular cancer. It also requires your tumors to be receptive. Still following me?
In order for your tumors to light up on the scan, a gallium scan is designed to be highly sensitive to somatostatin receptors. If your tumors donāt have this, they wonāt light up. And you canāt get the PRRT treatment.
Lucky for me… my tumors lit up like a Christmas tree.
Accepted!
Isnāt it weird you can be excited to see an abundance of tumors on a scan? This disease is weird.
Iām getting tired, so please read about my PRRT experience here. In one year I did 3 super high doses of radiotherapy, different treatments entirely, and so many tests your head would literally spin.
January 2017- I still needed 2 more rounds of PRRT. It was so hard on me. It seemed like I had every side effect possible. My experience wasnāt going as smoothly as others. I kept wondering š why do I always have it so much worse? Am I weaker? Do I just complain more? No, it canāt be. This is too much.
I had completed the 2 more rounds of PRRT. I had such high hopes. It was getting more difficult to live, to function, stairs were impossible, I was living in the main room of my house, in a hospital bed. My life was very different now.
We sold our home, I moved into my dream condo. No stairs, open concept, cozy, peaceful view, everything I ever wanted to be comfortable and continue to find a way to live with this disease. You have to find ways to adapt. This was ours.
November 2017- I spent my first night on my new condo, I slept beside my husband for the first time in months. Since the bedroom was accessible now.
I received a phone call, unknown caller. I always know thatās bad news. Itās the hospital.
āCan no longer participate in the clinical trial…ā
āTumors not responding…ā
āPalliative care…ā
āJust keep her comfortableā
This is what I remember. Iām sure there was a lot more to it. But what I took from it, Iām dying. Iām being told this is the end of my road over the phone. Thereās no more hope. I politely asked my husband and my mom to give me some time to myself. I locked myself in my room. This seemed like another moment I should document. I felt I should grieve privately, but my heart was telling me I should share my raw feelings and reaction. I thought of all the other people who had been in this situation, and I felt that urge to share again. It was bigger than me. So I filmed my initial thoughts.
Palliative– I went down a very confusing road, it all seemed to blur together. The only time I got out was to go to hospital appts. I could barely make it to the bathroom alone. My home care team always wanted to talk about āmy wishesā. My wish is to live, for as long as possible. My wish is to not talk about dying. But thatās apparently not an appropriate wish when youāre palliative.
Unbelievable things started happening.. I started to realize what it really was like the moment your status changes to āpalliativeā
Youāre seen differently. You no longer get the same options. Your life becomes about dying. When to die. How to die. Where to die.
It was when I was kicked out of my local hospital for refusing to sign a DNR (do not resuscitate) that I realized… Iām in trouble. This is no joke. I need to get better, I need to show them! Iām still here, Iām not dying, I have so much life in me, please listen!
My husband and I started to feel very overwhelmed and for the first time… unsafe. Unsettled. We no longer felt protected. Nothing made sense. He would keep me alive with breathing machines we bought ourself, to treat my pneumonia at home.
We clung to each other, we held onto our last shreds of hope, we would lay down in my twin sized hospital bed that made its way back into my living room. We would hold each other so damn tight, as if Iād disappear if he let go, the tears falling on one another, reminding us that Iām still alive. Iām still here. You can feel me. My heart is beating against yours, my tears are warm, only he could see it.
Everyone else was giving up on me.
The trauma we went through during this period… itās indescribable. So much happened. Iām not going to go into it, you can choose to look further into my blog, but this post isnāt for that.
My pain was out of control, despite ākeeping me comfortableā, home care was unable to get my pain under control. My medications kept increasing, the pain would get worse.
Any time we would call for advise, theyād say to give more medication. Get me out of pain. The cycle would repeat, and Iād be in more pain.
What is happening? Is this what dying feels like? Youāre just in a constant state of pain? I thought it was supposed to be comfortable.
Maybe I wasnāt ready to die
I will quote myself from a previous blog entry:
āAs my limbs become so weak I can no longer walk around, touch becomes unbearable, my speech is becoming more strained, my brain becoming mush. The pain is excruciating. My doses become even more frequentā
āSo tired. So so tiredā
āAs my breath becomes more and more painful, more shallow, harder to gasp for air, my skin begins to heat up so much that it starts to fall off. Why is this happening? It has to be the cancer. Time for more medicationā
āMiranda is having a lot of breathing troubles, what do I do??ā
āSheās unable to walk or and can barely form a sentence, sheās passing out ALL the time, canāt keep her eyes open! What do I do??ā
More medication.
November 2018- if we werenāt going to get the proper help locally, it was time to get me to my super doctors. The ones who kept me alive before all of this palliative care nonsense. If my husband had to carry me on his shoulders to the car, he would have. Luckily I had a wheelchair. We drove to Montreal, I was admitted immediately. No one could figure out why I was so damn sick. Why I was in so much pain. How could I be on so much pain controlling medication, but be suffering THIS much? I was a medical mystery, sometimes a zebra is a unicorn.
Every.single.day was a guessing game, whatās wrong with Miranda?
I will quote myself again from a previous blog post …
āThe one thing I knew so far: every nurse, doctor, and specialist could not believe how much pain medication I was taking. Some didnāt even want to administer it. I was getting worried, itās the one thing that gives me relief, why are they so against it?ā
āMy nurse, we will call her Angel, she outright said to Serge that the medication is whatās causing all of my pain. She said that some people react differently to opioids, and that not everything meant to help you is going to. Sometimes it can be the problem, and you can have a reverse effect. Just like that, mind blownā
āBut it canāt be that. I have cancer, itās whatās causing my pain. Iām dying. They told me. All my doctors told me. Thatās what everyone has been saying for years now, take more medication to be comfortableā
I was so angry at Nurse Angel, what did she know? Medication, bullshit
Fast forward two months in the hospital š„
It was my medication, kind of. What no one knew at this time was that I had suspected mast cell disease. Even as Iām writing this I am not officially diagnosed but being actively treated.
Since the very beginning, the unknown sensitivity to treatment, to chemicals, my amplified side effects, my heightened symptoms, the unexplained pain, the inability to breathe, the declining unexplained health… it all makes sense suddenly
My master cells were being attacked by the disease, causing them to be broken. High levels of mast cells mediators were being released into my system, similar to my tumors, bursting chemicals into my system that make you flare up into extreme reactions.
The pain medication was making everything worse, since it was making the mast cell flares worse and more frequent. It was just a vicious cycle that wouldnāt end.
Until we fought like hell for answers. Until we demanded that I wouldnāt die like this. Until we changed the narrative. We saved my life. You can read about that part here
The funny part? I wouldnāt have known about mast cell disease had it not been for another patient/friend/advocate. I was too sick and confused to understand it at the time. So I didnāt push for answers.
I accepted that it was the medication causing it, and I moved on.
It would be an incredibly long road of healing, it still is.
Healing – we moved away, we moved to the city that saved me. We wanted to be close to the hospital that saved my life. We wanted to feel safe. So we left our friends and family, took our life savings, and we moved to what I imagined would be my āretirement homeā. I still thought I was going to die soon, but I was happy to do it in peace. Without pain. With a clear mind.
But thatās not what happened is it?
I started walking to the elevator, using my legs, my muscles had completely died at this point. So I walked little steps every day. I finally made it to the door of my building. Then outside to the street. Then around the block. Then down to the water.
My body was healing, it was slowly recovering from all of the trauma. I was reconnecting with myself. We were finally able to take a breath.
Remember that moment when I started writing this, when I said I never thought Iād have a moment of reprieve? Well I did. I finally experienced it that day I made it to the water.
My mind was next, I was healing physically, but now I needed to heal mentally. We both did. We had gone through so much, how do you come back from that?
I was unable to share for quite some time during this period, I lost my ability to share my story.
The minute I got my voice back, I started sharing slowly, cautiously. I didnāt know what to say. I didnāt understand it myself.
I didnāt understand how this could happen to me. How something could go so wrong. How I could be so close to death… but be so alive. I could have died because of a lack of knowledge.
I donāt like to blame, itās not healthy for my mental well being. The lack of knowledge that exists is not a fault of anyone, itās a flaw in our medical system that exists because of the rareness of this disease. Itās not fair, but itās real.
Why do I share? Because itās going to educate whoever reads this.
Itās going to push boundaries of the rules we are supposed to follow. We are supposed to be good patients and accept our fate.
Well Iām reclaiming my power, Iām slowly every day working on myself mentally and physically.
Iām doing things that bring me joy, Iām sharing things that make others aware, Iām connecting with who Iāve always been, Iām learning why I started this blog in the first place.
It wasnāt a choice, it was my purpose, it was a promise.
I promised I wouldnāt let this cancer take my fabulous, āFabulous is your light, your smile, your energy, your positivity, your willfulness, your vitality, passion, excitement, beauty, laugh, and how you share it!ā ā
What youāre about to read is the very first statement I made when I started this blog. The blog that changed my life and so many others.
āThis is my very first post, my first time writing a blog, and my first time speaking freely about my personal journey with pheochromocytoma cancerā¦. and staying fabulous while doing it!
Pheo VS Fabulous was born from the promise that I would never let this disease take away the one thing I could control, and Iāve labeled that my fabulous. When I became ill I realized how much we take for granted, and it started with how day to day tasks are so challenging when youāre battling an illness like pheochromocytoma cancer, thatās when I decided I wouldnāt let it that away from me. Itās more than just looking a certain way, itās about BEING fabulous, strong, and positive when you have every reason not to be.
The danger of something being so rare is that it goes undetected, unrecognized, and is one of the most misdiagnosed conditions. Leaving many of us undiagnosed, and looking for answers.
If youāre reading this, you might still be looking for someā¦
My goal is through sharing my vulnerabilities with all of you, finding the courage to share something so painfully personal, someone else may have less of a challenge in the future of being diagnosed, treated, and living with this disease, #pheochromocytoma ā or any other āneuroendocrine cancers. #netcancer #raredisease
The idea is that the more I share, the more information there will be available for a disease where this is so much lacking. Every procedure, every test, every treatment I will suffer through ā I will continue to share my experiences so that others donāt have to keep grasping for answers like I did.
Although there is so much to coverā¦ first off, pheo-chromo-cy-whatta?! We will get there darlings, I just want to sayā¦
This blog is meant for awareness:
Awareness for a disease that only a handful of people in this massive universe know about, probably only because they were diagnosedā
Isnāt that incredible? I told you, it was my purpose. Before I even knew what was I was talking about, why I was saying it, and what it would mean. I knew.
NOW – Iām finally in a place where I feel things are improved and better controlled. I have good days, I never thought Iād say that.
I think the most important aspect is treating comorbidity, if you have other illnesses going on, and theyāre not being treated as effectively or focused on as much as the main cancer, the issue is it exhausts the nervous system and keeps triggering the Pheo episodes. Everything from the adrenals, the thyroid, mast cells, anything that can be impacted, make sure itās being properly treated. Even my endometriosis finally being diagnosed and treated has helped, because it took so much pain and stress off my body. Pheo is so triggered by stress, so the more stress we can eliminate from our bodies physically, the better quality of life we will have.
I started this blog post wanted to share a bullet point list of what has helped me, my meds, my treatments, but I think my heart needed to share, and my soul needed to be emptied of everything Iāve been holding onto.
I started this entry by saying I sometimes get an overwhelming feeling of responsibility to prevent what happened to me, from happening to someone else. So now Iāve shared everything I possibly can to do that. Even after Iām gone, my story and my information will remain available forever.
I will continue to share, every experience, every new piece of the puzzle, but most of all… Iāll continue to share why I have hope.
We canāt heal until we are treated, so hopefully this will help you begin your journey for better treatment. I truly hope you will be able to feel that moment of reprieve I described.
I still have bad days, but more importantly… I have goood days!
I still have attacks almost every day, and mast cell flares, but I live with hope, happiness, faith, love, and I control what I can. I no longer live in fear, I am in control, I decide.
I live with a new mindset, I see clearly, I live purposefully, and I remember who I am.
More importantly, I want to help you do the same. Thatās my purpose.
The rest is out of my hands, the rest i cope with. The rest I made peace with.
My terminal cancer and I live in peace with one another.
My husband and I often say āwe have cancerā. A cancer diagnosis affects everyone involved, your spouse, your kids, parents, your friends, anyone who is a pivotal part of your life.
Anytime weāre in the doctors office we catch ourselves saying āweā, and we will be greeted with odd looks. But thatās the thing, WE do have cancer. It hits home like a bomb, it shakes up all of our worlds. One is physically fighting the disease, the other is fighting in every other way on their behalf.
We fight for one another when the other is down, we are each otherās voice when we donāt have one, and we continue to carry the load whenever we need to for one another. Thatās a partnership. Thatās a family.
The first instinct that everyone wants to do is help, fix, and act. Everyone gets into a very adrenaline like state the first few months after diagnosis, just going through the motions, trying to hold it together. This is normal.
However, itās so important to be communicating. My husband and I in the beginning would hide our feelings a lot not to upset each other more. We didnāt even realize we were doing it.
He would be so overwhelmed with the fear of losing me, and Iād be overwhelmed with the thought of losing him. I hear a lot of people go through the same experience, but the issue is we often donāt communicate our fears to one another. This can be challenging for a lot of people.
We end up getting a bit edgy, holding in so many toxic emotions, we need an outlet. We HAVE to talk about it!
Itās important for it at least sometimes be with each other, that way everyone knows how sensitive to be with one another, how patient, and where your mindsets are at.
The thing is with the instinct to act, is that weāre always wanting to jump into motion the moment our loved one is suffering. We want to find a solution, fix their problem. We try to control all the things we can control.
Meanwhile feeling completely helpless, and out of control.
Itās a vicious cycle.
Even after all this time fighting this disease, and knowing itās better to just listen to someoneās fears and thoughts… whenever my husband is having a tough time or not feeling well, I STILL have the instinct to react and try to mend my his heart, his body, or his mind. I think itās just in our nature.
So I can only imagine how he feels with me. He has way more restraint than I do though! š¤
Thatās the thing, once we understand that we will ALWAYS have that immediate urge to fix… but first, we must listen! Truly listen. Let the other person talk whenever theyāre ready, only when theyāre ready. Offer for them to talk about whatās bothering them, ask them..
ādo you want to talk about it?ā Donāt push too much or ask too many questions. Just be a sounding board. Also, giving a choice is very empowering.
When the person has truly gotten everything off of their chest, in time… we can start introducing helpful solutions, small acts of care, and things that help, but not necessarily FIX… just alleviate some of the pain or pressure theyāre holding onto.
This can be by simple things. Like massage, meditating together, taking a walk in the fresh air, setting a time each week to have vent and have an open communication session, anything that works for your rhythm in your household.
Itās so important to remember that when someone is sick, we are ALL feeling it in different ways. Add on the pressure of the pandemic…. and oooo boy, it really is a life altering and uncertain time.
When supporting one another, try to think:
āhow would I want someone to respond to ME right now?ā
āWhat would make me feel better in this situation?ā
āWhat kind of support would I appreciate after sharing what I just shared?ā
If we are mindful of this, we can offer better support to our partner or family. Anyone who is involved.
If youāre trying to support a friend or a family member (not your partner or someone in the household), the same rules apply. You should consider everyone involved.
So if youād like to reach out and help, try to make suggestions that take a bit of pressure of everyone.
Whether that be a kind gesture like offering to bring groceries, drive them to an appointment to give the care giver a break, or simply send them a little thoughtful note, letter, book, maybe an uplifting journal, anything to just brighten their day. As we all know, most of us have more bad days than good.. so chances are, you will completely change their day or week with one small gesture of help or kindness.
I will share more soon on how to support a loved one with cancer, but for now I just found it important to remind us all…
WE have cancer.
We ALL need support.
We all need to come together.
WE will get through this!
Comment down below if this was helpful to you š¤šš¼
Doesnāt mean Iām terminally ill, confused? I was too.
I still might be, but I think itās time someone explained what it is to have a terminal rare disease.
With rare disease day approaching, Iād like to do my part in educating about this rare terminal illness I LIVE with everyday.
When I received my grim diagnosis of metastatic pheochromocytoma, it followed with āyou have 1-5 years to liveā. I was sentenced to death, and given a time frame to live my life. Itās haunted me ever since. Itās shaped how I perceive my world and how I went about living in it.
It didnāt have to be this way…
Delivering a diagnosis should be one of the most sensitive topics there ever is in a career. It should explain the illness youāre facing, and explain how to live with it.
Just because Iām terminally ill doesnāt mean I have to die…
It can take years upon years to die, a terminal illness means you will EVENTUALLY die of that illness, but no one should be signing your death certificate.
Just because Iām terminally ill doesnāt change the standard of care, I want to live. I deserve every treatment, every intervention, every respect that someone else with a chronic condition or just a condition gets.
Iām still living, and should be treated that way.
Just because Iām terminally ill, shouldnāt mean Iām given palliative care to help me die.
It means I should be given palliative care options to help me live, to extend my life, to improve my quality of life.
Just because Iām terminally ill, doesnāt mean I donāt have a beautiful life ahead of me.
It just looks and feels different than yours, but itās still worth living.
When I was given my grim diagnosis, itās all I could think about. Everyday, dying. My time was ticking. My rights were being taken away as a normal patient.
Just because Iām terminally ill, doesnāt mean I should sign a DNR to get treatment
Yes, this is illegal. But it didnāt stop the hospitals around me from withdrawing treatment, and making me too scared to call an ambulance when in an emergency because I thought theyād kill me.
Just because Iām terminally ill, shouldnāt mean I had to move three hours away to be close to a hospital who gets this.
Itās so important to have proper, quality, care. Doctors who understand what a terminal illness is, that are willing and excited to treat your rare disease with the respect it deserves. Ready to give you the respect you deserve.
Just because Iām terminally ill doesnāt mean I should have no dignity…
When I was ādyingā, I lost my dignity last. I held onto it for quite some time, but eventually it went away. It was the hardest thing to lose, it shouldnāt have happened, but it did. It didnāt have to be this way.
I donāt consider myself dying anymore, I consider myself someone whoās living with a terminal illness.
I consider myself someone who will eventually succumb to this disease, but not for a very long time.
I consider myself someone whoās fought hard and long enough to share this information with you all.
I consider myself someone who can help change the way terminal illness is perceived.
If you receive that grim diagnosis, please, please, donāt give up. There ARE treatments that work.
There IS a way to be stable.
Quality of life CAN be different.
You need support, in all forms, you need palliative care, (proper care), you need a team of doctors who listen and respect you. Most of all.. you need hope. Thatās what this gives you, your hope to hold onto and never let go.
Iām no stranger to treatments and procedures, thatās the understatement of the century! However, getting something done because I WANT IT done, thatās a new concept as of late.
When youāre sick, your body becomes sort of …everyoneās. It doesnāt feel like your own anymore, a product of the medical field.
Well Iām taking my body back, and Iām loving it.
Pheo VS Fabulous was built around the statement of staying fabulous throughout it all, never losing my joy. Well I think Iāve taken that in stride, but it gets difficult. Itās about time I can take back some of my fab. So Iām doing that in every way possible. Physically and mentally.
Have you ever heard the expression, āI woke up like thisā?
When you have an illness, it takes a toll on you. It takes a huge mental toll, and that turns into a physical toll. We often just stop doing things for ourselves because everything is so damn hard. We do things out of convenience a lot, and stop doing things because theyāre enjoyable and we WANT to.
This may sound crazy, but any time I go into see the doctor, or am surprised by the fact that I have to go in an ambulance, I always think first … āhow do I look?ā I HATE looking sick. I feel like the moment my illness takes over my physical appearance, itās won. Iāve lost that one part I can control.
When I was SUPER sick, (bedridden) I did EVERYTHING possible to stay me. My hospital table was a makeup table, my slippers were cute, my pjs were always matching, I got my husband to do my hair. It was just important that I didnāt lose myself completely.
Now that Iām feeling better… I wanted to treat myself to a few things that could make this job a little easier in those times. When Iām too sick to do anything at all, but I still wanna wake up looking absolutely fabulous!
Operation lashes and brows commence!
I know I know, Iāll be the first one to admit… Iām a bit extra! š Iām okay with that. Not everyone is going to feel the same way as me about these things, but I guarantee you youād enjoy them just as much!
I would spend so much time filling in my brows with makeup, pomades, powders, gels, anything to make my brows look and feel great. Even if I didnāt do anything else to my face, I always did my brows. It was just a thing I had to do. It takes time though, and a lot of different products to achieve that perfect look. What we millennials would call the āInstagramā brow. Ha!
Once youāre done with the consultation, filling out the necessary medical forms, and having the actual procedure done.
I found it fairly painless, but again… this goes back to having done my research and making sure I went to a QUALITY place! I scoured their pictures on social media, read their website up and down, and looked for reviews to make sure I was getting the best of the best.
You lay down on a comfy bed, your lash/brow technician preps the area with numbing cream, (be sure to check what they use and be conscious of any allergies)! and then they start mapping out your new brows! My eyebrows were extremely sparse and uneven, so there was a lot of work to be done. When she first showed me what they were GOING to look like, I wanted to cry. I was so happy! So we went to work, and 2 hours later…. perfect brows šš¼
Just a side note, Katie was extremely gentle, professional, we talked so much glam, and I had the best time ever. It helps to be comfortable with the person youāre doing it with, so keep that in mind when youāre booking with a salon!
This is the first time I had to lay down for hours on end and actually have a fun result at the end instead of just a scan that showed my tumors, so I was pretty ecstatic!
Here is the first result:
So this was my first session, you can see I am red because of the procedure but they healed perfect and I love them so much! (I’m also extremely sensitive so this is normal) Your eyebrows will initially go a bit darker with oxidization, but that goes away after one week and they heal to the color your specialist custom makes for you. You have to go in once more after this a few weeks later for a touch up, it allows you to make any changes or go a bit more dramatic if you feel the need!
Mine is coming up soon, but I love my brows even as they are now. Iāll do a bit of work touching them up to darken them a bit, but other than that .. love!
Lashes…
Now, Iām a person that actually enjoys wearing false lashes in my spare time. Haha! But itās so much work and money. Doing false lashes when you can barely sit to do your makeup in the first place… itās a bit much.
So when I heard I could have lashes that were voluminous and beautiful ALL the time, I had to have this. Never glueing on a falsie again? Sold.
Iām sure youāve heard of this, thereās all different sorts of eyelash extensions you can get. āNatural, hybrid, volume, super volumeā
Well I wanted EXTRA volume. Go big or go home!
I went back to my technician and told her I wanted to be ultra glam, all the time. Hit me up with the biggest lashes youāve got!
This is the first time Iāve been able to feel well enough to partake in these adventures, so I might as well go all out! āŗļø
(And looking like Iāve done a face of makeup without actually lifting a finger… yeah, tempting!!!)
So I took the plunge.
Appointment time: 2 hours
Each lash is masterfully added to your own ONE BY ONE, by hand. Itās actually pretty crazy when you think about it. Iāve never seen such patience and precision. Of course, there are differences everywhere you go, but this was my experience.
I was pretty tired by the end of it, but it was worth it. Katie was also excellent at allowing me to have a break if I needed it, and overall I just felt super comfortable.
This is the end result! Again, my eyes are a bit red because of having them closed for so long so you tear up a bit, but I assure you theyāre fab fab fab! Perfection.
I will link the website of where I got mine done, www.dollylashlounge.com so you can read yourself through the procedures and services list. I thought it would be more fun to hear it from me š
I told you guys Iād bring you along on my journey, and this is part of it.
Right now Iām all about taking back my fab. Thank you dolly lash for helping me do that.
And thank YOU GUYS for following along with all my crazy but fun ideas! I hope Iāve inspired you to do something fun and kind for yourself, because letās face it… we all need a bit of love now and again. Why not let it be from you? #selflove
Support comes in all forms when you receive a diagnosis, but as you become sicker and the āold youā starts fading away, so do your relationships.
So many people want to be there for you when you first receive your diagnosis, but as you become sicker, when it all becomes real, it seems you start losing people one by one. Thereās nothing worse than having to grieve your old self, plus have to mourn each relationship lost as you go.
One day you wake up, and all of a sudden you feel like you have no one left.
‘Hanging out’ and visits turn into text messages, the text messages turn into the occasional Facebook chat, and then even those just stop abruptly. Until thereās no more communication. Everyone just went away...
You canāt help but blame yourself,
if I wasnāt this sick, Iād still have friends.
If I was healthy and could have a normal conversation about monotonous things, I wouldnāt push people away.
If only I could be healthy and not intimidate people who are unsure how to approach this new āsickā me.
If only I wasnāt intimidated by them thinking about me being sick, and could fill in the awkward silences.
…If only I could erase all the sad eyes, the weakened expressions, and not have people who once respected me feel sorry for me.
This is the worst part, the pity.
If only these people knew that Iām the exact same person, the same person who was their friend for all those years. The same family member, the very same.
People change regardless of being ill, but it seems being ill puts a wedge in between the healthy and the sick. The unknown is often just too much. If I changed because I became an asshole Iād understand, but Iām the very same person.
This is the first time Iāve ever expressed how much it hurts.
How at my sickest Iāve never been so alone.
When someone says, āyou must have a lot of people around you!ā And you just donāt know how to respond.
How I donāt want to come off as ungrateful or selfish because there are some amazing people who have come into my life despite me being sick.
But those relationships lost still weigh heavily on my heart, and I wish I could have every single one back. Back to normal.
But Iāll never be normal.
So it shall remain…
What I will say is Iāve learned a few things while these relationships have come and gone.
Itās not your fault, even though it may feel like it is, stop blaming yourself.
Often people want to be there, they just donāt know how.
Itās exhausting trying to make others feel comfortable around you, focus on yourself being comfortable and the rest will follow.
Itās not your job to put everyone else at ease, if they are your friend, they will try to find a way to understand your new situation.
People who are truly your friend, WANT to know how you are. They donāt want the sugar coated answer, be honest with your friends.
Your best friends donāt mind changing plans, or understand when you canāt make it because youāre not feeling up to it suddenly.
Your best friends will make an effort to make YOU comfortable in this new changing circumstance, theyāll go out of their way to make sure you have a place to lay down in their home if you get tired, or have a fan handy for when you get too warm etc.
The people you lost were probably not meant to be close to you in the first place.
Donāt feel bad for making the decision to cut out toxic relationships, even though you might feel like you canāt afford to lose anyone else, itās not worth putting yourself through hell to have āfriendsā.
Donāt take for granted the people who did stay around, know that they love you so much, and cherish them every day.
Five years ago I was told I had 1-5 years to live. I sat in a white office with the same diabetes posters and bland medical facts I had looked at several times, and contemplated how angry I was. Angry because had I not been so ‘rare’, something might be different. Perhaps someone might have listened to me, instead of blaming my symptoms on anxiety. This was the worst day of my life.
If someone had just listened to me while I complained of symptoms for years, I would not be sitting here listening to how I had 18 tumors that metastasized all over my organs, and were now killing me at an aggressive rate.
I left the office that day SO angry, but that anger turned into determination. The fiercest determination I could have ever felt, I was not going to die because I wasn’t heard.
I would be heard.
For the last five years, I’ve been heard. I may have suffered along the way, I may have had to do every form of treatment possible, but I’ve been heard.
Not accepting my fate was one of the best decisions I could have made, even after countless disappointments and setbacks, despite being told again and again mountains of bad news, I didn’t give up.
We didn’t give up.
I have news …
Today I sat in a white office, waiting to see my oncologist to hear an update of my cancer progression. For the first time in the last five years, I held onto the hope I felt countless times, and waited for news.
It’s always bad news …
Not this time.
Today, for the first time since my diagnosis, I was told I was stable.
Stable …
There’s no cure for the cancer I have, not at this stage. I was given palliative care, and supposed to await death. I was sent away to die at 24 years old.
I didn’t accept that, I fought. Hard.
Now I’m stable!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?
Stable means that for now I don’t have to continue treatment, I can take a break. Stable means I don’t have to go do any more scans for 6 whole months, 6 months! Stable means I can be in less pain, it means less attacks.
It means hope...
I’m writing this with tears in my eyes, because when I started this journey I just wanted to make a difference in as many peoples lives possible. To prevent suffering like mine. Today I feel that I can finally GIVE hope, the hope I’ve been clinging to so hard for the last few years.
Many of you have followed my journey from the beginning, clinging onto that hope just as hard. I’m finally able to tell you that I have good news, and it feels incredible.
If you’re reading this and you’re going through treatment, if you’re in pain, if you’re suffering, if you’ve just received your diagnosis, wherever you are in your journey… just know that I’ve been there.
Now I’m here.
It’s an amazing thing.
My life will never be normal, and I’m certainly not cured, but this is the first time I can say that I’m able to breathe a little. I don’t have to plan my life around what treatment is next, wondering if it will work, or what side effects it will have. I can just live. For now, I can breathe again.
If you’d like to see more of my journey, and learn about what treatments I’ve done… take a look around my blog. My most recent treatment plan was PRRT, although scary, it definitely made a difference in my condition.
Not giving up saved my life, being heard by the best of doctors for this condition… changed everything.
Never, ever, give up.
Hope is the hardest thing to have, but it’s worth it.
