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

#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.

_______________

- 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:

Summer 2015

Summer 2014

August 2016

Spring 2017

Spring 2017

Spring 2017

Summer 2017

Summer 2017

During chemo:

August 2017

September 2017

My wig:

November 2017

December 2017

December 2017

After the wig:

February 2018

March 2018

May 2018

December 2018

January 2019

December 2018

April 2019

May 2019

June 2019

July 2019

August 2019

September 2019

For more posts about my hair and its journey, visit:
https://allthingsab.blogspot.com/2019/05/what-its-like-to-lose-your-hair-when.html
https://allthingsab.blogspot.com/2019/05/journal-my-first-haircut-05182018.html

Take care of yourselves,

Abi
____

Don't forget:
-Leave a comment below and sign up for email alerts in the side bar
-Follow All Things Ab on Instagram: @AllThings_Ab
-Join/Donate to Abi's All Stars for the Sept. 14 Teal Trot 5K Walk/Run  https://raceroster.com/events/2019/22757/georgia-ovarian-cancer-alliance-teal-trot-5k-walkrun/pledge/team/197826?fbclid=IwAR2amDcwmkzPQAXEVEQoW-50szLSpmKjPKUnVVLyN2Ha3ROTrIdBEXbRpbg

#30DaysOfTeal Day 4&5 Ten Ways to Simplify Your Life

PC: Matthew Henry

Welcome to Day 5 of my 30 Days of Teal series on All Things Ab.

If you've been following this series during its first week, you would have noticed that there was no blog post yesterday for Day 4. So today, I'm writing an update and a post for a combined Day 4&5.

It's pretty ironic that the day I was supposed to start the prevention side of this series -- specifically about the importance of lowering stress -- I was stressed. So stressed that I couldn't write a blog post.

But I'm okay, and I'm sorry to have been MIA yesterday. We're rhyming now!

But seriously, yesterday was my day off -- the funniest part -- and it was the busiest day I've had in a while. Sure, I've had longer to-do lists on other days these past few weeks, but yesterday was a different beast.

And I think it's important to be transparent with you all because we're all human. We have bad days.

Yesterday was a bad day because I let it be.

I had meeting after meeting -- after meeting -- and they all fell through. Everyone canceled on me, and although that sounds great for someone who has a bunch of other things to do, I obviously could not complete those tasks still as I was prepared to be in meetings -- not checking off tasks on my to-do list.

On top of that? Wedding drama. (A story for another day)

All in all, I had a bad day. I had a very real day that we all have time to time, and I think it makes the next few items in this blog post all the more important.

It brings home the fact that we all can use some simplifying in our lives. It's the third week of school, y'all, I shouldn't be this stressed. I need to simplify.

Maybe you find yourself in the same boat, or maybe, you don't even know what you need right now until you do it. So consider the following suggestions regardless of your status right now. They could never hurt (unless done in excess, because that wouldn't be simplifying at that point).

Stress has been known to contribute to and speed up the onset of disease. One of the best ways I've learned to deal with stress, busy schedules, headaches, long to-do lists, overwhelm and general bad days is to work toward simplifying different aspects of my life.

I firmly believe that if I would have simplified my life while going through the process of being diagnosed with cancer (instead of picking up that third job on top of school), my tumor would not have grown so quickly. Of course, that's a big fat assumption, but I wouldn't be the only case to have seen positive correlations regarding tumors and stress.

Even if you don't have cancer, or you aren't a gold star candidate for the "Big C," still take these suggestions into consideration as heart disease is correlated even stronger with stress. We are all at risk for something out there, and I'd hate for anything to happen to anyone because they failed to attempt simplifying their life.

So how can you?

The short answer:
1. Identify what's important to you
2. Eliminate everything else

However, we all can agree that life isn't always that simple. So try these 10 things to help you simplify your life a little more:

1. Declutter your closet 
Seriously, just do it. Everyone is. So should you. (So should I...)

2. Create a capsule wardrobe
Eliminate your options to prevent decision fatigue. This has been a goal of mine for a while! Once you've decluttered your closet, try to curate a wardrobe with multifunctional pieces. In the ultimate capsule wardrobe, you would only have 20 items of clothing that could make hundreds of different outfit ideas. The key is choosing neutral colors and patterns that match.

3. Unsubscribe from emails
BRB doing that right now because wow. Did I mention I manage 5 different email accounts? Not the definition of simplified.

4. Schedule meetings with yourself
Make this an unavoidable part of your week, or even your day! Use it how you wish, but try blocking off some time to catch up with yourself. How are you feeling? Did you eat today? Do you need to catch your breath or return your grandma's phone call? Decompress. Spend time alone. Get to know yourself! Rest.

5. Create a simplicity statement
Declare what a simplified life means to you. And stand by it! Once you admit your life isn't a simple as you'd like it to be, you're in a prime position to take action to rectify that situation. You need to identify where you want to be and what you are working toward. Once you have your statement(s), put it in a place where you'll read it frequently.

6. Eat slowly
Perhaps an extension of #4, but an important one. I'm always intrigued by the available research revealing the positive effects on your mind and body when you eat slowly, and without distractions. Mealtimes are some of the most vital times in the day, not only for your physical/nutritional benefit, but also for your social benefit with yourself and others. Take the time to eat with people, enjoy your food, be thankful that it's available, and tune in to how your day (or your company's day) is going.

7. Simplify your goals
I get it. It's hard living in this fast-paced, hypercompetitive society we live in today. It fosters this toxic "hustle" culture. But I'm here to tell you it's better to have two really solid goals than a bunch of just-okay goals. Simplify your goals. Break them down into tangible steps instead of these daunting beasts we have to face in order to earn that checkmark. Tailor them to YOU.

8. Fill your day with simple pleasures
Walk barefoot in the grass. Take a new road to work. Listen to good music in the car. Make popcorn and watch a movie. Take an afternoon nap. Feel the sun on your skin. Write on good paper with a good pen. Try a new coffee shop. Watch the clouds. Make someone smile. Enjoy the little things!

9. Leave space around things in your day
Some of my most overwhelming days are the ones where I schedule it a little like this:

• 7:30am Wake up and shower
• 7:45am Put on makeup
• 8am Make breakfast
• 8:15am Walk out the door

What about the time it takes me to walk? To get from point A to point B? To trip over my own feet occasionally? Leave space around the things scheduled in your day because the last thing you need is back-to-back meetings with no time to eat or pee or think or regain your sanity. Give yourself that cushion.

10. Always ask yourself: will this simplify my life?
If the answer is no, reconsider it immediately.

I know for me, I'm going to mute my emails and watch the Packer game tonight with my family. What are you going to do? Let me know in the comments below.

Take care of yourselves,

Abi

#30DaysOfTeal My Cancer Resume -- All Things Ab

Abigail M.

abimarmuro@gmail.com

Somewhere in the world of survivorship

Skilled in advocating for patient rights and preventative medicine. Experienced survivor with knowledge of slowing down and listening to your body. Notable vegetarian in sustainable consumption. Ability to recognize what's important in life and that it's time to start living.

Personal Information:______________________________________

Date of Birth: Sept. 10, 1996

Place of Birth: Wisconsin

Life Experience:___________________________________________

American Cancer Society

Ovarian Cancer Patient

Overlooked missed periods Sept. 2016-Mar. 2017

Diagnosed July 26, 2017

Underwent chemotherapy Aug.-Oct. 2017

NED since Nov. 2017

History:__________________________________________________

Fall 2016-Spring 2017:

Series of missed periods

Uterine/pelvic ultrasound

May 2017:

Mass found on left ovary in ultrasound

Referral to oncologist

July 10-11 2017:

Exploratory surgery and tumor removal

Left ovary and fallopian tube removed with stubborn tumor

Stayed overnight with complications due to anesthesia

July 26 2017:

Oncologist confirmed malignancy with staging from Mayo Clinic

Stage I Grade IIa Sertoli Leydig Cell Tumor of the left ovary

August 2017:

Began three rounds chemotherapy - Bleomycin, Etoposide, Cisplatin

Prescribed 24/7 nausea patch

September 2017:

Lost hair

Complications with blood cell counts

Weekly shots of Neupogen to increase white blood cell formation

October 2017:

Finished extended chemotherapy schedule

November 8 2017:

CT scan of chest, abdomen and pelvis

November 10 2017: 

Call confirmed No Evidence of Disease (NED)

February 2018:

Hair started growing in

May 2018:

CT scan to follow up six months post-treatment

Polyp in gallbladder

August 2018:

Ultrasound followup on gallbladder polyp

No growth

November 2018:

One year NED

July 2019:

Two years post-diagnosis

August 2019:

Memory problems continue - "Chemo Brain"

Present:

Balancing fine lines between patient, person and advocate
_______________________________________________

Now on Instagram! @AllThings_Ab

PC: Nicole De Khors

My Two Year Cancerversary - My Wish For You

Beautiful Red Rocks from our Denver trip 07.20.19

Hi friends,

Welcome back to the blog after another crazy, unplanned break. More on that later. I wanted to keep up the tradition of posting on this date every year — my two-year cancerversary! Also the one year anniversary of launching this blog. 

When facing a diagnosis, many often remember hallmark dates. I personally take a pause on July 10, the day in 2017 I had the surgery to remove the tumor; July 26, the day my oncologist diagnosed me with cancer; and November 10, the day I received a call with the great news that my CT scan came back clear after chemotherapy. 

Although November 10 is certainly a happier day than July 26, I still take the time to reflect on how much my life has changed since that day.

On this day two years ago, I had a feeling it was going to be scary news from the moment I heard "mass on your ovary" to be completely honest. That's right, even in the midst of optimism coming at me from all angles, I had that gut feeling, which you don't hear in many stories. 

We all obviously hoped for the best anyway.

The craziest part to me — crazier than having ovarian cancer at 20/21 years old — was that had I not have listened to my body and persisted with my doctors until we found an answer, it could've been way worse. I could still be walking around today with Toby the Tumor. 

But I am the lucky one. You see, my family tree is filled with cancer on both sides. If each diagnosis was a light on that tree, we'd be ready to decorate for Christmas.

From an early age, I knew that if I didn't take care of myself, I could end up a Christmas light on that tree too. Perhaps now I'm just a burned-out bulb on that tree — my presence acknowledged but free of catastrophe for now.

I did take care of myself, however. I never had a problem eating fruits or vegetables and I participated in countless sports — some spanning a decade in length. I went to my checkups and physicals every year. I was always the smallest and shortest person in my class growing up and even in my most recent years, I've never tipped above an unhealthy body fat percentage.

So I took care of myself physically and nutritionally. But perhaps more importantly, I took care of myself with persistence. There were many opportunities I could've walked out of doctors' offices two years ago, taking "you have no symptoms" or "we're not sure" for an answer. I could've fallen into the trap that unfortunately too many people today still succumb to. And that is the illusion that doctors know your body better than you do. I'm sorry, but no "M.D." behind anyone's name can make me take their indecisive answers as my fate.  

I'm not here to diss any medical professionals out there — I might not even be alive today without their help. But by golly, if you're one of the too-many who takes their doctor's answers to the grave, that's exactly where you'll end up if you don't put some thought of your own into the equation.

We all know I wasn't your average candidate for the C-word. I showed up to my annual physical one day and brought up that I was having weird periods after finally stabilizing my cycle through the years. That's it. That was my only symptom.

I didn't have the traditional abdominal bloating, changes in eating and bathroom habits, nausea or pain.

But when my physician didn't know what to do, I found another specialist. Don't let me paint this rebellious picture that I didn't have faith in any of these doctors and that I didn't follow orders. What I mean to capitalize on here is that I didn't take denial or indecision as an answer. If my thought process, wishes or symptoms were not validated, or at the very least acknowledged, then I persisted. I was my own advocate. 

I'm not normally one to stray away from my introverted nature, but when it comes to my body and the future of it, I persist. And so should you all.

If there's anything I could wish for you at all — other than peace and safety — it is that you listen to your body and find the strength to always advocate for yourself.

Ask your doctor to slow down and explain things in easy to digest terms, or even ask for them to write it down for you. If you don't agree with treatment, refuse. The last thing you may need right now is more side effects from yet another prescription. If you don't like your care for whatever reason, find it elsewhere. You are the boss and you are the reason these people are employed. Well, kinda. You get it.

The point is, you have to advocate for yourself by playing an active role as an informed, communicative decision-maker about your treatment and your quality of life. You should feel comfortable asking questions and talking to your medical provider. Make sure they listen to you and respect your point of view. Your decisions and your dignity should be their top priority.

Your top priority, however, should be your self-awareness about subtle and not-so-subtle changes in symptoms and health status, as others cannot fully feel or assume what you're going through. Even if you aren't sick, there's a reason you're at the doctor. And even if you're as healthy as a ham, your annual checkups should be seamless and you should be able to walk out of the clinic knowing you've been cared for.

You don't have to take that pill if you feel worse than before or maybe aren't seeing a difference at all.

And you do not need to take "you're fine" as a diagnosis if your suspicions brought you into the office in the first place. 

There is no intention to breed paranoia here but please, communicate with your primary care physician and stand up for yourself until your mind is at ease. 

My feelings as a patient advocate are so strong because, during my chemotherapy, I wasn't as great an advocate as I should've been. The world of cancer and chemotherapy became a whole new one when I was the patient instead of the usual relative or family friend. 

It's a story for another day, but my oncologist was highly unorganized, lacked communication and quite frankly came off as someone who didn't know what they were doing. Whatever she ended up doing clearly worked for me, but the number of headaches my family, myself and my nurses went through was completely unnecessary. Nonetheless, I learned a lot of lessons from not being a strong advocate for myself (Thank God for my family) and now I strive to help others learn from those missteps. 

So as I reflect back on this day two years ago, I want you to know that I am thankful for your support, for your kind messages, and for your readership. As I look to graduate school, I can't help but get excited with the confirmation that I want to dedicate the rest of my life to helping the cancer community as well as helping those not in it stay that way. Exciting things are ahead. 

Take a moment to be thankful where you are right now and reflect on how you are feeling at this moment. Be grateful that each of you possesses the power to stand up for yourself and your health. Don't take your body for granted and celebrate that you were given this day. 

If you ever have any thoughts or questions, please feel free to reach to out me. I'd love to have a conversation with you, even if it's not about health and wellness. I'm always here.

Take care of yourselves,

Abi

What It's Like to Lose Your Hair (When Your Oncologist Said You Wouldn't)

09.23.2017

Why do we care so much about our hair? It's a question we seldom ask because we just really care for and identify with our hair -- plain and simple. It is quite literally part of us, and I never highlighted that thought as much as I did until I lost all of mine.

Let's take a little recap down memory lane, shall we?

July 26, 2017.

The first few words I heard out of my oncologist's mouth in response to "was it cancerous?" was: "Yes ... but at least you get to keep your hair!"

... To which I lost my hair approximately six and a half weeks later. All of it.

A day before my 21st birthday, actually.

It wasn't your typical scene in the shower where I looked down and found clumps of hair falling out to my surprise.

No, it was more painful than that.

You see, I wasn't expecting to lose my hair. So I did absolutely nothing with it, aside from wash it. Days were long from chemotherapy, so I lived in hats. I threw my hair into a low bun, messy as all get-out, and garnished it with a frumpy baseball cap to hide the mess and, let's be real, hide my face.

About four weeks into this fashion statement, my hair started to become matted. I assumed it was from never brushing it. It got messy under that hat anyway, why put in more effort?

Well, the hat ended up pushing all of the hair down and into mini dreadlocks. I didn't care because I slept most of the time, and when I was awake, I was in said hat.

My scalp hurt all the time. One day, I took a shower and just could not run the shampoo through the dreads anymore. I tried to clean my scalp the best I could and said "to hell with the rest."

Showering was a pretty long process, so I went downstairs after I was done and asked my mom to brush my hair like she used to when I was a little girl.

It hurt.

She brushed slowly, and carefully, breaking the chore into small sections. More hair was coming out than was getting brushed, and I didn't notice it until about halfway through the job.

By the end of it all, there was a clump of hair sitting next to us on the couch big enough to make a wig out of.

I didn't look bald or bald-patched from what I could remember of that night, but I did have way less hair than I did when I woke up that day. Granted, I had very long, very thick hair, and a lot of it. That was probably the first time it was all brushed out in weeks. By the time my mom was done brushing it all out, I just looked like someone with very thin, fine hair.

But my scalp continued to hurt, despite being more gentle with it. I still wore hats and that's probably what did it. I actually later learned that it's very common for the hair and skin to hurt or even itch as it falls/comes out.

I had a conversation with someone who had a similar experience and described it to the T when recalling what it was like to lose the hair on her arms and legs. That was actually a good part for me. I always hated my arm hair. It's funny how we can hate the stuff on our body and love the rest on our head.

The day before my birthday I had had enough. The next thing I knew, I was kneeling outside on a cushion from the patio furniture. Chris took a tickly-buzzcut-man thing to my head, and ten minutes later I was bald. Baldish.

It wasn't until my next round of chemo that the tiny hairs fell out once and for all. Such a weird thing to wash your hair with baby soap and still look down to see little hairs going down the drain or sticking to my lathered hands.

Hair is an emotional thing.

When I lost it, I was upset that I not only had "Cancer Patient" written right across my white, shiny skull, but I also was this 21-year-old in college who was supposed to be in the "best years of her life." Seeing all these college girls on campus and thinking to myself, these are the years everyone says is their prime and that was stolen from me.

Hair is truly part of our identity, and us feminine women love to play with it and style it and just have it...

Treatment ended in October 2017 and my hair started to grow back in February 2018. I received compliments from the day I decided to leave my wig at home. So many people said it fit me, or that they wish they were brave enough to have a hairstyle like that ... but it didn't phase me at the time.  I certainly didn't choose that haircut but I obviously wasn't going to explain the entire nine yards to strangers. I already felt like I had a neon target on my back that made me look different from everyone else on campus. Not to mention, finding an eyebrow pencil to match your new-colored hair is super difficult.

And besides, I felt like it didn't fit me. All the nice compliments in the world couldn't convince me I looked just fine. I didn't feel as cute as people told me I was and I sure as heck didn't have a clue what I was doing with it when I tried styling it.

I've learned a lot from losing my hair and regrowing it out. Mainly lessons of patience, but mostly that hair is just a thing. There are way more pressing issues in the world to worry about. Then again, there are also less pressing issues existing in the world, but for now, while I ride out this ugly phase, I'll learn to appreciate the simplicity and natural beauty of short hair.

About a year ago this month, I got my first haircut (You can read about it here). I had what they call "chemo curls" and they needed to be managed. My stylist ended up giving me the cut for free. Yuck. But nonetheless, she was kind for doing so.

Since then, I have had cuts every 6-8 weeks. It's funny, I always read about cancer survivors grieving about their haircuts because they want to hold on to every inch they've just got back. I can honestly say I've always been generally excited to care for my hair and make it as healthy as I can, but I can also honestly say I was feeling a little hesitant for the first time this last week.

05.09.2019

The Thursday before I moved to Wyoming, I decided to chop off more than half of my hair that I worked so hard to grow out. I was getting to this awkward 80's teenager stage so I figured all one length hair was probably a better path, even if it meant having chin-length hair like 7th grade Abi. Yuck again.

It's funny that I "Yuck" so much because I try and preach that the only reason we as a society "Yuck" is because we as a society deem long hair as beautiful and short hair as different.

I say, rock your hair, learn to love yourself and ultimately, just give yourself the tender care you may need right now.

After all, what makes you beautiful isn't the topical things in life.

But you don't need to have gone through cancer to know that.

Take care,

Abi

P.S. - Let me know in a comment below what your hair means to you. Let's share perspectives.