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

Cancer: The Gift That Keeps on Giving

June 2, 2019

Today is National Cancer Survivors Day -- a day more should be aware of.

I define 'survivor' as anyone who has been diagnosed with cancer, and anyone who has been part of that diagnosis ... mom, dad, friends, loved ones.

We are all survivors the day the diagnosis is set in stone because each day that we live is another day worth celebrating.

22 months ago, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and 23 months ago, I was blissfully unaware.

As a reflection, the things I've gained outweigh the things I've lost, aside from safety and security.  When your cells betray you, you can't help but not feel safe and secure within it as you are confronted with your own mortality. Beyond that, it's difficult to recognize your own self because of the huge shift in values and focus after the trauma of cancer. This change can be a blessing, but finding the "new you" takes time, even after almost two years post-treatment. Good thing cancer is a wonderful teacher, if you let her...

Things I've gained:

• The need for simplicity
• A few scars
• Support
• Self-awareness
• A desire to stay learning
• Gut instinct
• Perspective
• Advocacy for chronic illness
• Empathy
• Appreciation
• A habit of questioning everything
• Self-worth

Things I've lost:

• An ovary
• Safety and security
• Time
• Confidence
• Fearlessness
• Hair
• Physical strength
• Quick thinking
• An identity I recognize
• Life before a planner

It wasn't yesterday that I was diagnosed, but sometimes it feels that way. On a daily basis, I have to make a choice. I can wallow in the self-pity of what if, or I can choose to be grateful that I am alive.

No matter what our prognosis or diagnosis or lack of, we all can choose to make the most of whatever time we have. I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to help give others hope, knowledge and awareness through my speaking, writing and advocacy, and if you or someone you know needs a boost or is struggling with cancer or its aftermath, I hope you will reach out to me.

Take care,

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.

Journal: My First Haircut After Chemotherapy 05.18.2018

From my journal on May 18, 2018 -- My first haircut post-treatment

Hair pre-diagnosis

I'm very attached to my hair, both metaphorically and quite literally ... I've always had the same style and texture so it became part of my personality and identity. Women, in general, have always been expected to have long hair, and so to cut it (or lose it) often comes as a shock to some. Historically, hair has been a factor in whether people are perceived as attractive and is a sign of youth and health. However, times are changing, but we admittedly still put a lot of our self-worth into our hair.

What I really haven't unpacked in a while is why that is.

Our hair is a very personal thing. For some, it is simply a form of self-expression and for others, it can represent their culture, heritage or other historical significance. [Un]fortunately for me, my hair decides what it wants to represent, and that is all things curly and difficult.

Since treatment ended in October, my hair started growing back in late February. I've been wearing my wig since I received it in the fall, but when my hair started regrowing in, my wig got very uncomfortable, very quickly.

My wig (Nov. 2017)

Bald (Sept. 2017)

I have what they call "chemo curls." Basically, regardless of what hair type, color and texture you had prior to chemotherapy, the hair grows back differently (super curly). This is because when you lose your hair, you also lose the hair follicle. When the hair follicle comes back, it decided to give me, and tons of other patients, super curly, coiled hair.

No more wig (Feb. 2018)

People have been complimenting my hair nonstop since I left my wig at home. They say it reminds them of Audrey Hepburn. Others say the shorter hair really opens up my face and showcases my eyes. Reminded of how it isn't as care-free and easy as people think it is, I thank them and move on with my day.

I often feel isolated on a college campus of beautiful, young women with long, shiny hair. But then I remember I was never one wanting to conform anyway. I often hid behind my long, straight hair like a security blanket and I never wore my hair the way hair was trending at any moment.

It is quite a shock now dealing with very short, extremely curly hair but whatever my hair decides to do, I am forever grateful to have grown it back. I can't wait to play and experiment with it at all of the stages it goes through.

Yesterday was my first haircut since my hair grew back and it had me feeling like a child --  both curious and scared. It was quite the contradicting moment for myself as I had worked so hard to grow my hair to what it is now (a curly mess). Yet, I know if I want it to grow, I have to get regular trims. I had been looking at pixie styles and different cuts for short hair on Pinterest for the past three months but everything I fell in love with was for straight hair.

Pre-Cut (May 2018)

Pre-cut (May 2018)

I thought I would go into my appointment blind, open to any suggestions that professionals had but it all worked out perfectly as I walked out of the salon without a style.

Let me rewind.

I had been searching for a hairdresser ever since I had tangible hair in February. I had also been looking for someone with experience with very short curly hair, specifically chemo curls, but I had also been searching for a time in my schedule to get this thing done.

So here I was mid-May, walking into the salon where my mom newly goes and boy, was it a stunning place. It looks like a house from the outside, but the inside is so chic and edgy.

I met my stylist and she was so kind. She had energy beaming from her and I could really tell she cared about her clients' needs. I got to know her well before we headed back to the shampoo bowl. I was hesitant for this appointment because the "designer women's haircut" was triple the price I was used to and included a wash, cut and style -- which I didn't need half of.

But my goodness, the massage and shampoo was the best thing to happen to me in a while. Better than all shampoos I'd had in the past -- combined. Her products smelled lovely and she took her time. I remembered at this moment why women came to the salon so often, setting aside that they could actually afford it. But I felt like a member of society again.

I didn't want to get up from the shampoo station, but after she was done, we walked back to her chair and this is when the magic happened. Well, nothing special came out of it, but it felt magical. This was the first time I only felt excitement towards this event and I was happy to have healthy hair once she was done.

She didn't cut much off, mostly my thin ends, but made it more symmetrical and in great shape for it to grow out correctly.

It was a quick appointment, even though she did such a great job taking her time to make sure every strand was even and trimmed. She mentioned that cutting short hair was more detailed work than long hair as you can see any misplaced hair or longer strand.

Long, short, straight, wavy or curly, haircuts always feel refreshing once they're done and I couldn't describe that feeling any other way. It felt good to have this checked off my to-do list and to have found someone I trust with my hair.

It was at this appointment that I learned to accept my hair for what it is. I stopped worrying about the length of my hair but the health instead.

Post-cut (May 2018)

I ended the night showing off my new do at the Braves game for a date night with Chris. We're not Braves fans but we are huge baseball fans so the night was nice. The Marlins ended up shutting out the Braves and we had a great time out together.

I didn't feel the difference in my hair until I woke up this morning and felt the difference in washing my hair in the shower. I still use baby shampoo, like when I was bald, but once it grows out more, I plan on using natural products made to enhance healthy curls. No toxic chemicals for me! I'll admit, it definitely feels healthier, even with only the half inch she cut off. Hopefully, my curls will behave better now that the ends aren't thin.

I look forward to seeing how quick it'll grow as well as seeing if it will eventually straighten out to its pre-chemo texture.

--

Love your hair a little more today!

Take care,

Abi

I Moved Across the Country... & Other Misc. Updates

Above our new kitchen table!

Hey all!

I know it's been a while ... like a really big while. Hopefully this will explain it.

(P.s.- photos always turn out funky on mobile sites, so to get the real effect, I highly suggest a desktop for viewing!)

The most insane semester of my college career has concluded. As I word vomited a few too many times, I took six classes this semester on top of two jobs. I also presented my research at a national conference and packed my life up to move 1500 miles away from Atlanta for the summer.

Things have been a little hectic around here and I haven't been able to create the content this blog deserves. Although I plan to launch an entire blog revamp mid-summer, I thought I would share some updates with you first.

Since the heat of the semester, I have applied, interviewed and received the position of Editor-in-Chief at my university's newspaper that I was previously the managing editor at for the past year. I managed to get all A's on my final exams and final projects. And I received a job in wellness out here in my new home, as well as a freelancing gig with Wyoming's widest circulating newspaper.

Inside Kauffman Stadium

Speaking of Wyoming, Chris and I left at 5 a.m. on Saturday, May 11. We drove just over 11 rainy hours through Georgia, Tennessee, Illinois and Missouri to where we stayed in Kansas City for the night. As part of our bucket list to visit every MLB (and NHL!) stadium in America, we saw the Royals play the Phillies at Kauffman Stadium that night before returning to our cozy little Airbnb to catch up on some much-needed Zzz's.

Kansas City was great but I can honestly say that I wouldn't be upset if I never returned, other than driving through it again to get back to Atlanta one day. I was surprised to see as many hills as I did in that part of the country, but I guess I didn't know much about it to begin with.

Walking around the outfield

Kauffman at sunset

The next morning was another early one. We set out for the last leg of our trip, which mainly consisted of staring at nothing through Nebraska. It broke our hearts to still see so much flooding around the Iowa/Nebraska border. Roadworkers were out there making it a one-way road while they built up the land with gravel so that we wouldn't have to drive through a lake that otherwise is supposed to be flat as paper.

Many, many, many long hours later, we crossed the Wyoming border where the speed limit was 80 mph. Never seen that before, but definitely wasn't complaining.

Wyoming is so beautiful, y'all...

Medicine Bow Peak       PC: Bobby Magill

One stretch of highway can be flat with a view for miles, and the next turn can lead you coasting through beautiful hills and mountains.

Chris and I want to visit Medicine Bow Peak one weekend this summer. We had the joy of staring at this beauty for at least 2 hours as we neared closer to our destination. The mountain was in the middle of a national forest and was so entirely huge that it was plainly visible for miles...

As soon as we were about 25 miles out from our home, we approached a new mountain that we just so happen to live at the base of. I tell you, I don't think I'll ever get used to walking out of the grocery store to these beautiful mountains. I thought I was in awe when I first moved to Georgia from flat Wisconsin, but these Wyoming ranges put Georgia/Tennessee to shame.

We've gotten pretty settled in here at our new place. Yesterday we explored downtown a little bit and even made some summer plans to head to Denver one weekend. I'm really hoping to see a Rockies game (and hopefully an icky Cardinals game in August just to cross it off the bucket list).

Pictures have a not-so-lovely way of making mountain ranges look like hills

We even took a little drive up to see the baseball field where Chris will spend most of his summer, which led us to this amazing view...

Pictures do not do it justice at all, but if you're ever in the area, this stop is a must. Hopefully I can get Chris to take me to one of the breweries up here that just so happens to have this view.

This morning, I took a trip down to City Hall to sign some new hire paperwork. It's amazing that everything out here is within blocks
of our place. As soon as I got home, Chris got ready to head to his first day of work. The joys of only having one car...

I'm not quite sure what the rest of the week looks like for me, or for us for that matter, but I will try to keep updates fresh on Facebook and Instagram as they pop up.

Take care,

Abi