All Things Ab

How We Raised Over $300 in One Week for Cancer Awareness

It is officially the halfway mark of Ovarian Cancer Awareness month! What have you done for yourself or others in spreading awareness and making a difference?

So far, my birthday week has brought about two successful fundraisers.

This year, my family joined me on Saturday, Sept. 14, in raising awareness for Georgia Ovarian Cancer Alliance's Teal Trot 5K Run/Walk at Chastain Park Amphitheater in Atlanta, Georgia.

My team, Abi's All Stars, raised $179.23 thanks to the following contributors: CM, PK, C&CN, EG, SC, JZ and DH. I want to thank all of you who donated or shared my information along with your peers! We got so so so close to my $200 fundraising goal and that makes me so happy!

Thank you especially to my mom, dad and fiance for walking with me on race day. It was a hot and humid Saturday morning walk through Chastain Park, and I think we all sweat more than we anticipated!

My mom and I wore teal tutus, so we still made it fun.

The event is the largest ovarian cancer awareness and fundraising event in Georgia, so I would love to see more participants and donors as the years go on.

This year, the event raised a total of $140,473.28 and hosted 1,054 participants of 88 teams on race day.

If you missed this opportunity to donate, please make sure to check out the "Donate" tab above and read about a few nonprofits that mean a lot to me.

For my birthday fundraiser on Facebook this year, I chose Lacuna Loft as the nonprofit to donate to. We exceeded my $100 goal, coming in at a solid $155 going straight to this program for young adult cancer survivors, patients and caregivers. This nonprofit serves these individuals at no cost and is an online platform for easier access to all.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the following donors: CM, RC, RE and LP! 'Thank you' never seems sufficient to express my gratitude to you all, but please know it really means a lot to me, and of course to others using these services. You are making a difference!

Earlier this year, I participated in one of their writing workshops which helped me continue to wade through what I went through two years ago. I met some amazing people and heard their powerful stories. I hope I can join another workshop soon, as well as one of their really unique book clubs!

To donate to my birthday fundraiser, there is still some time left! Please visit https://www.facebook.com/donate/404836313547510/404836320214176/ to donate, or https://www.facebook.com/pg/LacunaLoft/about/?ref=page_internal for more information about Lacuna Loft.

Take care of yourselves,

Abi

How to Cope With a Cancer Diagnosis

For Day 8 this past weekend, we talked about how to be there for a friend going through a health issue, but what do you do if that person becomes you?

Hearing "you have cancer" can surely turn your world upside-down. You may feel every emotion all at once, or none at all. Know that you're not alone as 1.7 million people are diagnosed each year and about 15.5 million others are cancer survivors.

Sometimes having a plan can be a relief, especially when there are so many unknowns. Here are a few ideas for you to try when faced with a cancer diagnosis:

Assemble your A-Team
Rally a support network so you don't have to carry this burden alone. Your team could be made up of your oncologist, your nurses, other health care professionals, your loved ones, and perhaps a therapist. These will be the ones you can turn to for logistical and emotional support at any time. You may not even have to assemble one as your A-Team may naturally fall into place.

Have someone there at each appointment
There are times when you won't be able to remember everything your doctor said, and that is natural for a lot of people -- with or without a cancer diagnosis. Besides acting as your backup memory, this person can ask questions on your behalf and advocate for your care. It's important to choose someone who is a good listener and has a calming influence on you. This can be someone on your A-Team, or someone completely different.

Your A-team needs to be up-to-speed on your plan of care and your visits anyway, so what better way to keep them informed. (It also gets you out of having these conversations over and over again after your appointment.)

Establish a "communications officer"
If you share your diagnosis with a wider circle, unsolicited advice can be distracting and alarming. If you "hire" a communications officer, you can minimize the direct effects. Your person in this role can update others on your progress, freeing you of the responsibility of responding to various questions. This is especially important if you have a large network of people rooting for you. My mom was always the point of contact for my family members, not only because she was (is) close with them, but also because she was at 90% of my appointments with me too.

Manage the flood of info
Learning some tricks to manage all of the new information swirling around in your brain will help immensely. Start a file to organize your medical records and store all your health documents. This file can also serve as your handy spot to keep all of the questions you write down to ask your care team the next time you see them. My first day of chemo alone, I was given packet after packet of information. Trust me, you'll want a binder for this one.

Make time to process your experience
I slept most of my treatment away, leaving the majority of my processing to the after-years (AKA now, hence this blog). This isn't a bad thing for me, but I would highly suggest to others that they take some time off of work or aside from treatment to get your head straight, prepare, and decide how you're feeling and what you need right now. Whatever your coping style, make time to focus your energy on your own needs and prioritize your care and cure. This is YOUR time.

Breathe
Nowadays, people automatically think "death sentence" when they hear the word "cancer." And although that is highly untrue with modern medicine, it is also highly toxic as it makes cancer patients and their loved ones on edge immediately. If you are diagnosed with cancer, breathe. It's one of the first things you'll more than likely forget to do, but just breathe. Slowly. Take a moment to yourself to garnish each breath as it can bring you closer to a calmer state. Just remember that you have a multitude of supporters by your side, from your loved ones to your health team to those 15.5 million survivors.

You will figure out the rest in time.

Take care of yourselves,

Abi

23 Things I've Learned in 23 Years -- All Things Ab

Today marks my birthday, making me 23 years old. Twenty-three. I'm now closer to 25 than I am to 20.

Despite its downsides, 22 was a truly great year for me. I got engaged, moved across the country and back, published my own research and started my last year of undergrad. I experienced so much at 22 -- every emotion on the spectrum.

In an attempt to share whatever amount I've managed to gain during my 23 rotations around the sun, I've compiled a list of 23 things I've learned in 23 years. Still, I know I'll forget them from time to time, and I know I still have a thousand more to go. But I thought I'd keep up with the trend since I posted "22 Things I've Learned in 22 Years" last year.

Onward to 23.

1. I really like Christian Yelich. Glad we got that one out of the way.
2. I might be addicted to Target.
3. Things are cool, but experiences are cooler.
4. You don't know everything about a person's life, so don't jump to conclusions
5. You have the power to have a really good life, just like you have the power to have a really bad one.
6. You are not obligated in no way, shape or form to please everyone.
7. If you feel something needs to be said, say it. It's better to go that route than let it eat away at you.
8. People are only going to care about what they want to care about. Let them.
9. Be teachable. You're not always right.
10. Astrology will never cease to amaze me.
11. Sometimes your friends act more like family, and sometimes the other way is true too.
12. How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you.
13. Don't worry about the people who aren't happy for you. They probably aren't happy about themselves either.
14. I hold a lot of tension in my body (i.e. clenched jaw, shallow breaths, tight shoulders) and I need to stop that.
15. People who wonder if the glass is half empty or half full are missing the point. The glass is refillable.
16. Everything you are going through is preparing you for everything you have asked for.
17. Anything that costs you your peace is too expensive.
18. I'm really tired of reviewing oxidative phosphorylation (I'm ready to graduate).
19. Sometimes you win and sometimes you learn.
20. You can start over each morning.
21. Don't hide your magic.
22. Be in the moment, whether big or small
23. Remember you are only a moment

Take care of yourselves,

Abi

#30DaysOfTeal How to Be There for a Friend Going Through a Medical Condition

Week 2 and Day 8 of All Things Ab's #30DaysOfTeal Series is in full swing! I'm hoping this week is better than the first one.

I want to take a day and pause from the preventative posts and talk about what happens when you, or a friend, experience bad news. If you or someone you know is going through a hard time with a medical condition, how can we all be there to better support each other?

As we all get older, we slowly begin to realize that life will sometimes throw us or a loved one a curveball. While some things can be easily managed, others -- like a friend/loved one getting an incurable or chronic medical condition -- can alter the reality you both once knew.

Although there is no doubt that's it's incredibly challenging to watch a friend enter this new status, it doesn't mean that everything has to change completely. You may think you are overstepping your boundaries at first, but your support is always vital to their mental and physical health.

Increasing the interaction between two people has been shown to elevate moods, during these times especially. However, if you're unsure how to support them right away, it isn't the end of the world. I've found a few ways to best show up for someone with a medical condition without having to overthink it -- or worse, abandon or isolate them.

1. DO: Be patient
Things may or may not be different between you and your friend now and they'll really appreciate your patience while everyone gets adjusted in this new period. Be patient and don't get upset if plans fall through, especially last minute. Remember that all of what they are going through has nothing to do with you. Don' t give up on them and respect their time and space if they want it. Your lasting friendship is enough right now.

2. DON'T: Give advice unless they ask for it
Even if you're close, you don't want to force them to take your advice or listen to your solutions. Just because it worked for one person, doesn't mean it will work for them. And that's okay because chances are, your friend doesn't expect you to know the answers. Chronic medical conditions are unique to each person and so the best way to help them is by seeing what they need, if anything.

3. DO: Ask open-ended questions
Open-ended questions show your friend you are willing to have tough conversations and that you want to understand the world in their eyes. These kinds of questions also prevent you from becoming too intrusive as your friend will be able to control the conversation in sharing as much or as little as they wish to. Examples could be: What have been the highs and lows for you lately? How can I be there for you? How have the last few days been?

4. DON'T: Act differently
While it's important to be sensitive during sensitive times, you don't want to treat your friend like a fragile object. There was nothing more awkward when I was going through chemotherapy than those who showed me a softer side during that transition. Everyone always meant well, but their changed personalities never helped any situation. Be sure to act as you always do so they do not feel you pity them. Their world is already different, and your friendship may be the only thing that reminds them that life can still be normal and fun for them.

5. DO: Become a better listener
We have two ears and one mouth for a reason. The point is that the more your friend feels heard and not advised, the better. Actively listen to what they choose to share with you and don't assume you know how they feel. Giving them the freedom to have control over their own narrative and condition is one of the healthiest things you can help them do. And as a backup, take the time to research the illness in your own time so that in case they want to change the topic in person, all of your questions will have been answered already.

6. DON'T: Disappear
Medical conditions are often sensitive topics. Not a lot of people know how to approach them or talk to the people going through them. Most people don't realize what they tend to do -- more often times than not -- is disappear. I can't tell you how many people stopped talking to me when I was going through treatment. I knew they didn't know what to say or maybe they were handling it on their own as they digested the news themselves. But please, don't do this. Try so so hard to recognize the time between conversations and visits, because when a friend has a medical condition and isn't able to do much with their life, that's all they think about.

I hope you think about these tips on how to be there for a friend going through a tough time. This may not work for everyone, but if you offer your continuous friendship, you will soon enough discover what they specifically want and need from you.

Even though you may want to make them feel better immediately, your friend will appreciate you taking the time to be there for them when they need it most.

Take care of yourselves,

Abi

Going Bald and Back #30DaysOfTeal -- All Things Ab

March 2017

A Love Story (ft. Chemotherapy)

We're officially one week down in the 30 Days of Teal series! And today marks the sweet spot when I lost my hair due to chemotherapy two years ago: the weekend before my birthday.

It was a sunny Saturday, much like today, as I sat on the couch watching Family Feud with whoever was home. I was only one round of chemotherapy in, but already feeling the effects of the chemo -- nausea, fatigue, low energy, loss of appetite.

My scalp was sore the entire week leading up this certain weekend, and I didn't know why. My oncologist told me I would be able to keep my hair with this specific cocktail of chemotherapy drugs. But my hair was matted from not doing anything to it other than wash it, and I lived in baseball caps as I went to each appointment every day.

After a shower the night before, I had no energy to brush my hair, but I knew I should try since it was so neglected at that point. I wrote about this part of the story before (see links below), but in a nutshell: my mom brushed my hair for me and the majority ended up off my head.

My then-boyfriend-now-fiance ended up shaving my head for me on this sunny Saturday, and I specifically remember the new feeling of actual sunlight on my freshly bald head.

What I didn't predict was how that would feel moving forward. (Spoiler alert: not the best.) Without my hair, I constantly flinched at the sight of my own reflection, and I felt I fit the cancer narrative a little too well.

When you're bald, people say all sorts of words to you to make you feel better, or at least to make themselves feel better about not being able to make you feel better. "You look pretty," people would say. (I flinched at that still.) A few people used the word "fierce." I knew the truth -- chemo hadn't affected my eyesight -- but how could I possibly blame them?

I was no model before cancer, but I knew the thrill of a great hair day. I remembered what it felt like to walk outside feeling great, which is why the opposite -- seeing people's blatant stares, or, worse, their pitying looks -- was so hard for me to endure. Forget blending in: I had cancer wherever I went.

It wasn't just the hair on my head. I lost my eyebrows, my eyelashes, my arm and leg hair, most of my body weight and even an organ or two. I barely felt like a woman -- like a human. And since my hair was the most obvious loss, I became obsessed with it. I would check my scalp each day for stubble.

Nothing compared to my own hair, though. I wore hats and a very expensive wig with the help of loved ones' donations. But it was itchy and hot and tight and not my hair. It's not that I didn't want to experiment with my appearance; I just wanted my life and my beauty routine to go back to how it had been.

You'd think there would be advantages to baldness. It's true, without hair to style, I could get ready in five minutes flat (if I wasn't taking the eternity to draw on my eyebrows). But it's even truer that our hair is quite literally a figuratively an extension of ourselves. There's such a quiet and personal ritual that comes with caring for our own hair.

I get that lacking some of the hallmark queues of femininity didn't actually make me less of a woman, but it sure as hell made me feel that way in the moment. So now, two years later, when I am finally able to look in the mirror at the bob I've grown, I have chills about it.

My hair can do no wrong now; I'll complain here and there, but I'm happy to have it. I usually let it airdry so it gets curly and a lil puffy. You cannot miss it. That's the point.

My hair is healthy and getting strong, which in turn, makes me feel healthy and strong (being in remission also helps). I'm proud and relieved that it is back, and I love it down to the annoying frizz. That's why at any point in time, you can find me fiddling around with it, making sure that, yes, it's still there.

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- Fair warning: the following photos in this timeline of hair growth are not in the best layout. Boy, I can't wait for that new website! -

Before Chemo: