Cancerwise | Cancer blog from MD Anderson Cancer Center tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2009-03-20:/cancerwise//6 2013-05-22T12:59:47Z Cancerwise is MD Anderson Cancer Center's blog for cancer patients, survivors and caregivers. Cancerwise features patient, caregiver and survivor stories and tips, as well as expert insight on cancer news, prevention, treatment and research. Movable Type Pro 4.25 4 ways to celebrate a healthy Memorial Day tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2768 2013-05-22T13:00:29Z 2013-05-22T12:59:47Z Ways to celebrate a healthy Memorial Day. Use these tips to stay healthy and help prevent cancer. Cancerwise Blogger Family Grilling cw.JPGBy Amber Presely, MD Anderson Staff Writer

While you spend time with friends and family and celebrate our veterans this Memorial Day weekend, don't take a vacation from making healthy choices. A healthy lifestyle can help reduce your chances of developing cancer, so make the holiday a healthy one.

Use these tips to stay healthy and help prevent cancer.

1. Fit in activity
Taking a family road trip for the long holiday weekend? Try to schedule time in your trip to stop for a bike ride or brisk walk. Or get the family moving by kicking around a soccer ball or throwing a Frisbee for a few minutes.

Sitting less and adding more activity to your day can help lower your risks for many cancers. Get more tips to make your road trip healthy.]]> 2. Wear sunscreen
Want to avoid sunburns and skin cancer? A dab of sunscreen just won't do the trick. You need to slather on a golf-ball sized amount every two hours -or every 60 to 90 minutes if you'll be swimming or sweating. 

And, apply it before you go outside. It can take up to 30 minutes for your skin to absorb sunscreen. So, plan ahead. Get more sunscreen tips.  

3. Make grilling healthy
Don't let your family's health go up in flames during your Memorial Day barbecue. Avoid processed meats like hot dogs and bacon. Cancer-causing substances form when these meats are preserved. And, eating these meats can damage your DNA, upping your colorectal cancer risk. Get healthy grilling tips. 

4. Spend time with family
Spending time with others usually makes us laugh more and worry less. While no research directly links relationships to cancer risks, several studies do suggest healthy relationships can improve health. And, a healthy body means you will be in better fighting shape when infection or disease knocks on your door. Find out how to make the most of your relationships this holiday. 

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]]> My husband's pancreatic cancer treatment: A cancer caregiver's story tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2767 2013-05-21T12:50:53Z 2013-05-21T13:18:08Z My husband's pancreatic cancer treatment. Our doctor, David Fogelman, M.D., explained Ken's pancreatic cancer treatment options using chemotherapy. Cancerwise Blogger Janice and Ken Rightmer husband CW.JPGBy Janice Rightmer

In early February 2011, my husband Ken was living his life normally. 

Just a few weeks later, things took a turn for the worst when he had to go to the ER with jaundice.

Blood work, x-rays and an ultrasound revealed a tumor in his pancreas. His cells were biopsied and tested positive for pancreatic cancer.

Our local doctor said he had three to six months to live.

Getting a second opinion at MD Anderson
Having grown up in Houston, we'd heard about MD Anderson. Unable to accept the first doctor's prognosis, we gave them a call.

When I lived in Houston 50 years ago, it seemed like there wasn't much hope when people went to MD Anderson.

But as we discovered during our first visit, it's now a place where hope abounds.
]]> Pancreatic cancer treatment
MD Anderson did a CT scan and blood work and diagnosed Ken with Adenocarcinoma of the pancreas. 

Our doctor, David Fogelman, M.D., explained Ken's pancreatic cancer treatment options using chemotherapy. Radiation and surgery weren't options given the tumor's size and location. 

Other than being slightly jaundiced, his illness hadn't affected him noticeably at that point. But with time, he began losing strength and his pain grew.

Ken began chemotherapy in late March, using emcitabine, cisplatin, gemcitabine and Tarceva. 

However, Ken had gallbladder issues, so his next chemotherapy was postponed for about two months. During that time, a local clinic administered FOLFIRINOX, which lasted six hours. A portable device was attached for a two-day infusion at home.  

Side effects of cancer treatment
Ken was mildly nauseated and was treated with ABH (Ativan, Benadryl and Haldol). He experienced mild diarrhea which was controlled with loperamide, and mouth sores that were treated locally with something labeled Magic Mouth. It helped.  

After about four or five chemotherapy treatments, Ken returned to MD Anderson for a CT scan. The tumor had shrunk a small amount. 

Ken began having problems with edema, low platelets and mild confusion, which made it difficult for him to continue with chemotherapy. His last chemo was administered shortly before Thanksgiving.  

Sadly, another CT scan after that showed the tumor remain unchanged. 

A family of caregivers
Caring for Ken was becoming a huge job. It became a family effort.

Our daughters cooked, watched the clock and administered Ken's meds. 

We documented everything so everyone would know when to administer medication, especially for pain. If his medication was too low, he would be in a lot of pain, but too much would cause him to oversleep. 

All-nighters and errands were my job. I also helped with and knew where we were with meals, medications and appointments, and kept up with cleaning, washing and baths for Ken. 

Our grandsons helped getting Ken up from a chair, slip support stockings on his legs and get him in and out of the car for treatments. Along with the rest of our family, our granddaughters  helped him have the best life possible. 

Our strong support system 
Dr. Fogelman returned our calls and emails promptly and helped with getting whatever medications we needed. He always advised us about what to do next. We appreciated his help. 

Our church family loved us, prayed for us, visited and prepared meals. 

I couldn't have made it without help from so many.

At the end, after several hospitalizations due to infections, delirium, fever, severe weakness, agitation and depression, Ken returned home, and died quietly on March 3, 2012. 

I miss Ken deeply.  

Gratitude for MD Anderson
Dr. Fogelman, who kept his promise to do all he could for Ken, recommended counseling for me, so I made an appointment with a therapist. 

I'm much better today than a year ago.  

I've come to realize that every experience is a gift. Cancer brings sorrow and darkness, but it has its own unique wonder. There is so much more to life than I ever imagined.  ]]> New patient advice from veteran MD Anderson patients and caregivers tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2766 2013-05-20T14:57:55Z 2013-05-20T15:11:05Z For many patients and caregivers, the first visit to MD Anderson can be a little daunting. On top of wondering how you and your family will cope with your cancer diagnosis. Laura Nathan-Garner girl with questions CW.JPGFor many patients and caregivers, the first visit to MD Anderson can be a little daunting. On top of wondering how you and your family will cope with your cancer diagnosis, you may be worried about everything from parking to what to expect on your first day to whether your doctor will listen to your concerns.

Below, several patients and caregivers share what they wish they'd known before coming to MD Anderson. We hope their insight helps make your first visit a little easier.

You're not just a number
"I wish I'd known that it's pretty easy to be a patient here. I was intimidated by stories of how going to MD Anderson is like being in a cattle call. I did not find that to be true at all. It's peaceful and, even though the size can be intimidating, there are so many forms of help and ways to ease the visit. MD Anderson is a place where I feel listened to and not like a number."
-- Brandie Sellers, two-time breast cancer survivor
]]> -- Marcy Kurtz, breast cancer and uterine cancer survivor

We want to help you
"I wish I'd known how helpful and friendly all of the volunteers and staff are. If you're lost, just ask anyone you can find with an MD Anderson badge, and they will be happy to help you find where you are going."
-- Sandra Bishnoi, breast cancer patient

"I wish I had known about the numerous support services for families and patients."
-- Mike Snyder, chondrosarcoma survivor 

Research treatment options beforehand
"I wish we would have done more research on treatment options. While the doctors at MD Anderson are the best, it would have been nice to be able to participate more in the conversation regarding treatment options."
-- Jennifer Martin, cancer caregiver

Get your blood drawn early
"The Rotary House has a lab where you can get your blood drawn the evening before your clinic appointments. This can help you avoid a wait, and the lab results will be ready when you see your doctor."
-- Holly Easley, myelodysplastic syndrome survivor

Cheaper parking options exist
"Parking can get expensive. But you can save money by parking at the South Extension Lot at 1522 Braeswood Blvd. A free shuttle that will take you back and forth to MD Anderson throughout the day."
-- Terry Arnold, inflammatory breast cancer survivor

Come prepared
"It's cold, so bring a sweatshirt. Also, you may wait a long time. But if you're physically and mentally prepared to wait, then it's not a big deal."
-- Megan Silianoff, ovarian cancer survivor

It's okay to laugh
"No one is going to arrest you for laughing in the waiting room. Your first visit (and subsequent ones) can be very overwhelming and emotionally draining. It's important to make the most of it anyways. During my fiancé's drug trial at MD Anderson, we made an effort to enjoy our uninterrupted time together and find moments of joy within the dark ones.  Although it was the hardest time of our life -- most days filled with bad news and tears -- we also remember it fondly because that time allowed us to connect in a much deeper way."
-- Katie Narvarte, cancer caregiver

Resources
]]> Preventive double mastectomy: A breast cancer survivor's take tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2763 2013-05-17T12:30:20Z 2013-05-17T12:45:31Z Preventive double mastectomy: A breast cancer survivor's take. I don't have the BRCA gene for breast cancer. Yet I got diagnosed with breast cancer at age 37. Cancerwise Blogger brandie sellers mastectomy photo.JPGBy Brandie Sellers

The recent revelation that Angelina Jolie had a double mastectomy and reconstruction to minimize her chances of developing breast cancer is causing quite a buzz. It seems that the public is supportive of this measure. 

As for me, I don't know what I would do in her shoes.

I don't have the BRCA gene for breast cancer.  Yet I got diagnosed with breast cancer at age 37. 

Ninety percent of women who receive a breast cancer diagnosis do not have the BRCA gene.

For me, because I had a huge tumor, it wasn't a question of whether I would have mastectomies or not. It was a foregone conclusion. 

Some women who receive a breast cancer diagnosis are candidates for a lumpectomy, and that can have the same positive outcomes in many cases as having a mastectomy does.
]]> "It's easy to judge"
Jolie's doctors predicted she had an 87% chance of developing breast cancer. Those are some scary odds. 

It's easy to sit back and judge when those odds don't apply to you. "I would do the same exact thing if I were her." Or, "How could she have her breasts amputated for something that might not even happen?"

Since she watched her mother die of breast cancer, she has seen how awful breast cancer treatment is. 

More afraid of treatment than recurrence
I often say I'm not afraid of a recurrence of cancer, I'm afraid of cancer treatment. It literally almost kills you.

Many days during treatment, I wished I was dead instead of barely alive and feeling so utterly dreadful. 

If I had watched my mom go through that, and I had young children, and there were something I could do to increase my odds of avoiding that awful train wreck, I might make the same choice.

Take responsibility for your own health
I think it's up to us as women, daughters, wives, mothers and grandmothers to educate ourselves about what's best for us. That's true not only when it comes to gauging cancer risks, but in all things related to our bodies. 

And we shouldn't just look at what celebrities do or don't do. We shouldn't just take one doctor's word as gospel truth when it comes to our health.

We must be our own best caregivers, take responsibility for our health choices and use all of the resources available to us.

A source of inspiration
Whether you like Ms. Jolie or not, she's a force for things about which she's passionate. 

She isn't sitting on the sidelines waiting for someone to do something about orphans, children of war, or now breast cancer. She's taking big actions and living out loud. And that can inspire all of us to do the same.

Brandie Sellers teaches yoga, meditation, nutrition and cooking. She paints, writes, runs and plays with her children. She is a divorcee and two-time breast cancer survivor who's undergone a double mastectomy.

Brandie is crazy about her three children, and is blessed with a slew of sister friends who pick her up when she's down, keep her honest with herself when she's full of it, and make her laugh until she cries. Follow her at simplelifeyoga.com.

Read more posts by Brandie Sellers
]]> Donate blood and make yourself proud tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2762 2013-05-16T12:55:34Z 2013-05-21T20:53:46Z I wasn't always able to give blood. But one of my heroes, my Uncle Paul, was -- is -- a regular blood donor. He's quietly given gallon after gallon to his local blood bank. Mary Brolley Mary blood donation picture CW.JPGI wasn't always able to give blood.

The first time I tried -- as a high school senior, many years ago -- I fainted after the finger stick to check my iron level.

I didn't even make it to the donor chair.

This was at a blood drive attended by many friends and classmates. I got teased about it and was embarrassed. For many years, I thought I wouldn't ever be able to give blood.

But one of my heroes, my Uncle Paul, was -- is -- a regular blood donor. He's quietly given nearly 28 gallons to his local blood bank.

It's a habit for him.

So, in 2000, nearly 25 years after my dismal high school experience, I noticed an MD Anderson blood drive being held at the University of Houston.

I decided to try again. And I succeeded.

Since then, giving blood has been a regular thing for me. I try to donate every quarter.
]]>
Most are eligible to give
Another reason I donate blood regularly is simply that I'm eligible. 

You probably are, too. 

Though screening questions cover foreign travel and medication use, few people have traveled to places -- or stayed long enough -- to make them ineligible to give. It's the same with medication use. Very few medications or even medical conditions rule you out as a donor.

In fact, says Andrea Johnson, a community representative in MD Anderson's Blood Donor Services, although 60% of the public is eligible to donate blood, only 5% do.

"So, 55% of the population can donate, but, for various reasons, doesn't," Johnson says. "We could eliminate shortages if we could get some of them to donate."

Meanwhile, the need for blood products (both whole blood and platelets) has steadily increased.

Johnson and I work at MD Anderson, the largest transfusion center in the country. Our patients require about 200 units of red blood cells and 600 units of platelets a day.

Cancer patients often require blood because their disease or its treatment may harm their blood cells. Without enough red blood cells, patients may feel weak. Without enough plasma proteins, a patient might bleed.

It comes down to this: sick and injured people need donated blood. There's no substitute for it.

A great way to spend an hour
Giving whole blood takes about an hour, but most of that time involves the screening before and monitoring after.

Once you're ushered into an exam room, you'll get a finger stick to check your iron level. You'll be asked if you're feeling well and will have your blood pressure and temperature taken.

Then you'll be asked a series of questions to determine whether you're eligible.

The actual donation takes about 10-15 minutes. The technicians are very skilled, so there's little discomfort.

If you've had a bad experience donating or trying to donate in the past, tell your technician. He or she can reassure you and talk you through it.

You'll probably be instructed to squeeze a foam ball every 3-5 seconds to keep the blood flowing.

As previously mentioned, I'm squeamish, so I never look at my arm, the needle or the collection bag.

Leaving the blood bank proud
After the donation, the technician will wrap your arm in a bandage, check that you're feeling well and offer you juice and snacks.

Before they let you go, they'll urge you to eat a big meal soon.

(When was the last time someone insisted that you treat yourself to a big meal?)

You'll be proud of yourself as you head out the door.

Find out more about MD Anderson's blood bank.

The Mays Clinic location is open Monday-Friday, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Parking is validated on request. The Holly Hall location is open Monday-Friday, 10 a.m.-7 p.m. and Saturday and Sunday, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Parking is free.]]> MD Anderson Children's Cancer Hospital comes of age tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2761 2013-05-15T14:00:35Z 2013-05-15T14:01:27Z It's often a necessity for young cancer patients. When the idea to expand the Children's Cancer Hospital and centralize its services became a reality, pediatric caregivers on the Family Advisory Council began to work hand-in-hand with the architects and hospital staff. Gail Goodwin CCH FB CW1.JPGA stay in the hospital is not on most kids' top 10 list, but it's often a necessity for young cancer patients. Now, the redesigned and expanded MD Anderson Children's Cancer Hospital will make stays easier on children.

When the idea to expand the Children's Cancer Hospital and centralize its services became a reality, pediatric caregivers on the Family Advisory Council began to work hand-in-hand with the architects and hospital staff. They considered everything from pod names to colors to furniture to floor layout.

The result: mood lighting, plasma TV screens and a basketball goal down the hall ‒ which may sound like a child's idea of a dream vacation. The good news is that the innovative treatment that is synonymous with cancer care at MD Anderson is still part of the plan.

Each patient still receives care from a multidisciplinary team of specialists who partner with families to provide the best comprehensive care for their children. Patients will be able to receive infusion therapy and inpatient services, including intermediate and intensive care, all on the same floor - a first among area children's hospitals.
]]> The best gets better
"We're members of a club no one wants to be a part of," says Family Advisory Council (FAC) member Missy Ramirez. "From the beginning of our son's cancer treatment, my husband and I realized that we had the best. Little did we know that it could get even better."

Fellow FAC member Jerry Mortus adds, "It's wonderful to be part of a process that you know a lot of people will benefit from. We had a lot of opinions, but we were able to bring together all of our perspectives to help design this floor."

With the Brenda and Howard Johnson Pediatric Ambulatory Treatment Center now located on G9, patients can receive outpatient chemotherapy and other treatments lasting from one hour or more here. Multimedia entertainment, wireless Internet access and seating for family members are part of this area.

And, there's more. The floor also has its own pharmacy and laundry area. The Hoglund Foundation PediDome remains, but is now divided into three separate areas for three different purposes ‒ the teen room, an activity room and the Vara Martin Daniel Children's Play Park.

Members of the hospital's teen advisory council and young adult advisory council also weighed in on the new unit. Wanting to illustrate their support, the teen council created a special mosaic that is displayed on one of the floor's main hallways.

Maintaining as much normalcy as possible
A 21st century fully accredited school provides support in all core academic areas to school-age patients and will keep everyone on grade level with classmates from their home schools.

This fully interactive classroom includes an interactive teaching board, remote interactive boards, laptops, electronic tablets, closed-circuit programming for all pediatric patient areas and distance learning opportunities. This is the classroom of the future. Aside from being a room with a view, patients can experience a full range of normal school activities from field trips to field day.

Ronald McDonald House Houston also has a much larger footprint on the floor. This foundation will staff and run a family kitchen, two sleep rooms, a family lounge and a family/intensive care waiting room complete with coffee, light snacks, an aquarium, a computer/printer, telephone and more.

Nearly ready to welcome patients
While it was years in the making, the redesigned and expanded MD Anderson Children's Cancer Hospital is almost ready to open its doors. The entire G9 floor is now home to the Children's Cancer Hospital and will see its first patients move in a few weeks.

Members of the hospital's advisory councils and community supporters recently got to visit the new space, and many left with smiles and happy tears.

"When my daughter was a patient here, the rooms were just hospital rooms," says Mortus. "I think that the patients will really enjoy the new design. The light features, the overall warm atmosphere is more inviting and more comfortable for patients and their families ‒ it takes everyone's minds off of why they are really here."

This project, which began as a wish, as a hope, has finally become a completed reality that excites everyone who had a hand in its creation.

Watch the video to see the new MD Anderson Children's Cancer Hospital.

]]> Cervical cancer patient: My journey from diagnosis to recurrence tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2760 2013-05-14T13:53:46Z 2013-05-16T18:22:09Z Because I had recurring cervical cancer after seven years, my two experiences with cervical cancer were very different. When I was originally diagnosed with cervical cancer, I was 36 years old and the mom of two boys. Cancerwise Blogger lindaRyan_patient_0006 cervical cancer.JPGBy Linda Ryan

Because I had recurring cervical cancer after seven years, my two experiences with cervical cancer were very different. 

When I was originally diagnosed with cervical cancer, I was 36 years old and the mom of two boys. We weren't sure our family was complete and were hoping for another baby when I was told that I would need a hysterectomy.

I was devastated by the news. I mourned the loss of another baby, but as the years passed I couldn't imagine our family any different than it was. 

The importance of screenings and early detection
My initial cervical cancer was found during a routine pap test.  It was stage 0, and the treatment was a hysterectomy. No radiation or chemotherapy. 

Recovering from the surgery wasn't easy, but I was able to drive again after two weeks and back on my feet fairly quickly. 

When people asked what they could do for me, my answer was often, "Go to the doctor for your annual exam."
]]>
My initial diagnosis is a testament to screenings and the benefits of early detection.  
Cancer returned with a vengeance

Seven years later, I found a lump in my neck. 

Within a couple of weeks, I found a few more and then some in my groin.  

Based on biopsies, my doctors determined that my cervical cancer was back with a vengeance. It had spread to my lymph nodes.  

I was accepted into a clinical trial at MD Anderson for recurring cervical cancer. The diagnosis was frightening, but I never thought I would die. 

Maybe I was naive. Maybe I just didn't want to know my real odds. Or maybe I just felt that it didn't matter because I didn't want to think that my children would grow up without me as their mother.  

My recurring cervical cancer treatment
My clinical trial included cisplatin and alimta. Both were chemo drugs I received through an IV for nine hours every three weeks.  

For me, the infusion took all day and included other drugs, including Benadryl so I wouldn't have a reaction.

The potassium in the bags of hydration also irritated my veins. It was painful but the nurses did their best to use warm blankets to open the veins and then ice packs to ease the pain.  

I never got a port, which I now regret because I wouldn't have had pain with the port. Getting a port never fit into my schedule. I thought about it and talked about it often but getting it would have interfered with the timing of the two half marathons I chose to run during my treatment and I was told that I wouldn't be able to skydive, an activity that I planned to do with my friends in celebration of one friend's 50th birthday.   

If I am ever diagnosed with cancer again, I will get the port before I leave the doctor's office because the infusions became increasingly more painful and difficult. From what I understand, you don't have that pain or vein irritation with a port.  

Take note of body changes
As strange as it may sound, I found the suspect lump in my neck because my ankle was swollen.  I hadn't fallen or sprained my ankle and had no pain. I'm not sure how the two were related, but it must have provoked me to be aware of my body.

We know our bodies better than anyone. If something doesn't seem right, then we need to take notice and see a doctor. Having already been a cancer survivor, I was often on alert if something didn't seem right in my body. I tried not to be a crazy person about it, and worked at finding a balance and being aware of any changes. 

Thankful reflections
Looking back at my journey with cancer, I'm thankful I was able to get exams regularly. I'm thankful I was -- and am -- in tune with changes in my body. Getting these exams and looking for these changes aren't just the elements of public service announcements. They save lives -- mine included.

Cancer will try to win, but it chose the wrong woman to fight with. 

Linda Ryan thought she had checked cancer off her list. Having just run her first marathon, it was hard to imagine that her cervical cancer had returned after seven years. Cancer chose the wrong woman. She was ready to battle cancer for the third time with health, laughter and friendship. Follow Linda Ryan at MeStrong.net.

Read more posts by Linda Ryan]]> How a colon cancer caregiver learned to live in the moment tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2757 2013-05-13T13:31:58Z 2013-05-13T17:55:55Z How a colon cancer caregiver learned to live in the moment. One of best lessons that we've gotten in the face of Francis' colon cancer diagnosis is hospice care. Cancerwise Blogger Gibbs living in the moment picture.JPGBy LeAnne Gibbs

Aside from the birth of our daughter, our life has been a flood of awful since my husband Francis was diagnosed with colon cancer.

Yet, under all this runs a strong current of beautiful moments, lessons and experiences.  

One of best lessons that we've gotten in the face of Francis' colon cancer diagnosis has been about living in the moment.

Starting hospice
On April 11, we met with an admissions specialist for hospice care. This was a big step because it felt like giving up. 

This was an equally difficult and simple decision to make.
]]> pain, and wonderful about addressing our whole family's needs. Their staff is easy to work with and incredibly comforting to Francis and to me. 

At the same time, we realize that Francis isn't going to get any better now. We're trying to live the best life we can under the circumstances.

Hospice: A solution without regrets
Prior to Francis' admission to hospice, we had reached the limits of his primary care physician's expertise in pain management. This isn't a criticism; it's just a fact. 

We also knew that the only option we had for emergency care was the emergency room at a local hospital. We both feared a trip there with every fiber of our beings.

Enrolling in hospice was the solution for both of these concerns, and we haven't regretted it since.

Easing Francis' pain
Our priority was getting Francis's pain addressed. I felt like Francis was slipping away because of his ever-present, intense and, at moments, agonizing pain. 

I felt I was losing him because his only relief and escape was found in bed and in sleep. We spent much of our days in different rooms of the same house. When we were in the same room, he was usually asleep, which meant I was essentially alone.

The experienced hospice medical team nearly doubled the strength of Francis's pain patch (Fentanyl, if you're wondering). 

They also doubled the dosage of a liquid morphine he'd been taking by mouth for any breakthrough pain - pain that breaks through the constant relief provided by the Fentanyl patch. We're now using a morphine delivered by syringe into his PICC line for this type of pain.

Within a day or two of these initial changes, Francis was awake more often and able to move about the house and even help with housework. It's amazing how mundane everyday tasks like washing dishes and doing laundry are the first things that he does when he feels like being up. I suppose it makes him feel productive and, more importantly, normal.

"Afraid that the normal moment was fleeting"
I was ecstatic to have Francis back, but I also was struggling.

I had already gotten a glimpse of what I believe is the worst part of watching Francis go through his cancer's progression. I had witnessed a pain so intense that it made the strongest man I know break down in tears. I had heard him begging me to make the pain stop. I had seen his clinched teeth, balled fists and writhing body.

Every moment that he seemed to be more normal was a moment I was struggling to enjoy because I was afraid that the normal moment was fleeting. I feared that I'd soon be whisked back to that horrible place of his agony.

Thanks to the ugliness of the experience with uncontrolled pain, I've learned a beautiful lesson - one I hope to never take for granted.

Seeing the special in anything
For the first time, I really understand what it means to live in the moment. It means that when Francis has a good moment, I can't let my fear rob me of the immediate moment of joy. Living in the moment has nothing to do with skydiving, whitewater rafting or rock climbing - all the activities I once thought allowed people to live in the moment.

Living in the moment isn't about seeking anything special. It's about seeing the special in anything.

It's about keeping my mind open to seeing the beauty in the yuck. 

I'm not perfect at doing this and I'm really not even that good at it, but I finally get it. Now that I get it, I can do my best to enjoy the here-and-now for what it is, and keep my fear of what may be lurking in the next moment from stealing the joy of this one.

LeAnne and Francis Gibbs live with their two young children in Tallahassee, Florida. They share their journey with Francis' aggressive form of stage IV colon cancer on their blog, Our "Semi" Colon Life.

]]> Celebrating my mom after her cancer diagnosis tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2756 2013-05-10T15:13:32Z 2013-05-10T15:51:33Z My mom after her cancer diagnosis. I accompanied my mom to several cancer treatment at the MD Anderson Regional Care Center in Katy. Cancerwise Blogger Yackdale & Yackjaira CW 2.JPGBy Yackjaira Ruiz

Every year, I rack my brain with what I will get my mom for Mother's Day. This year I was thinking of a pair of earrings. If I ask her what she wants for Mother's Day, she would say "for you to be good."

That has been the answer she has given for Mother's Day, her birthday and Christmas for as long as I can remember. And yes, even at 26 years old, that's still her answer.

Three years ago, almost to the day, my mother, Yackdale (Jackie) Ruiz, was diagnosed with breast cancer. From that moment on, the meaning of Mother's Day changed for me.

The new meaning of Mother's Day
Before my mom's cancer diagnosis, I had always thought Mother's Day was all about her and showing her how much I loved her. In reality, Mother's Day is about me.
]]>
My relationship with my mom is one of those myths you hear about: we are best friends. So to say I was devastated about her cancer diagnosis would be understatement. I cried. I was angry. I didn't understand why this was happening her. And I questioned my faith.

How a TV show changed us
All this changed, thanks to a TV show.

My mom was resting in her room, and I walked in and changed the channel. I told her we were going to watch something I liked. An hour later, she was hooked on my favorite show, and watching it together became our Sunday tradition.

Watching TV allowed us to temporarily escape from cancer treatment and the fact mom was sick. It helped us focus on spending time together as mother and daughter, doing something we both enjoyed and could bond over. It was something that was ours.

After that, I decided to focus on making moments turn into forever kind of things. This helped both of us get through her treatment because we look forward to the next moments we could multiply into forever.

Bonding during visits to MD Anderson
We even saw chemotherapy appointments as forever moments. I accompanied my mom to several chemotherapy treatments at the MD Anderson Regional Care Center in Katy.

During one appointment, I again hijacked the television remote. This time I made her watch one of my favorite trashy reality shows. She was hooked, and when I left for graduate school, we talked every week about the reality family's latest escapades.

A few months ago, I joined my mother for her check-up. I was surprised by how much the care center had changed since the last time I'd gone with her. But, while the Katy care center has grown and expanded and nothing is where I remember it to be, the halls are still filled with the sound of our laughter from our television guilty pleasures and the warm smiles and encouraging love we received from the staff.

Making memories last
Now that I am living back at my parents' home, we still do pizza on Friday, movies on Saturday with Chinese food, gossip about that reality show and countdown until the season premiere of our new favorite show. We've turned countless moments into forever habits.

It has been three years since my mom's cancer diagnosis. That is three years of moments that we'll always carry in our hearts and are embedded in our souls.

Needless to say, this Mother's Day, I'll be thinking about how blessed I am to have my mom, how lucky I am to have her and that my life is worth living because of her. ]]> Teacher copes with cancer with student's support tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2755 2013-05-09T14:25:04Z 2013-05-09T15:07:10Z Teacher goes through cancer treatment. When I learned I needed chemotherapy, I was very direct with my students. Cancerwise Blogger staci rcc bay area.JPGBy Staci Waites

It's no secret that cancer treatment can cause changes in your appearance. Experiencing those changes in front of middle school students, however, can be a challenge.

In addition to being a mother, wife, sister and daughter with cancer, I am also a middle school teacher. 

That means I had 400 students with ring-side seats to my journey through treatment. The teacher in me had to portray strength and stability, but the patient in me was vulnerable and scared.

Middle school students are at an age where they're aware of what cancer is. Some may have a family member who has been through cancer treatment. Some of their parents work in the medical field. Regardless of their own experience, "cancer" is a very scary word to kids at that age.
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When I learned I needed chemotherapy, I was very direct with my students. I told them, "I have cancer and you're going to see me go through some changes while I get better." I made time to tell them about it and allow them to ask questions.

Of course, they were worried that I was going to die. I told them I wasn't because we found it early. 

They had lots of questions like "Will you wear funny wigs?" and "Can we vote on what color wigs you wear?" Through these questions that I developed a sense of humor with them.

During my treatment, a few students bought me hats , which I immediately put on. I'm now the proud owner of a Batman cap and a biker hat.

Making the students comfortable
A teachers' first instinct is to protect. I decided to involve my students in my cancer journey, but I also wanted to make them as comfortable as possible.

Before I began chemotherapy, I cut my hair very short so the transition wouldn't be so drastic when I lost my hair.

The kids got so used to it that when I showed up at school in a wig one day, they asked me to take it off. It was too much for them. I figured out their comfort level and went with it, which usually just meant wearing some type of hat.

My cancer barometer
My students have been my barometer throughout my journey.

When I initially envisioned myself undergoing treatment in front of them, I was scared and nervous. But they allowed me to take one day at a time and they rode the ups and downs with me. They were loving on days that I needed it and treated me just like every other teacher on most other days. That's something I really grew to appreciate.

What can I do for my teacher who has cancer?
When a teacher is going through cancer treatment, everyone wants to know how they can help or what they can do. I know it's hard to ask, so I've come up with a list of simple things that students, other teachers and even student's families can do to offer support.

1. Show love. Give your teacher a hug. Even if your teacher is standing in front of the class, acting like nothing is wrong, maybe even smiling -- he or she is not feeling that great. Your teacher's probably tired, nauseous, or maybe just scared or anxious. A smile or a hug really helps push your teacher through the day.
2. Tell your teacher you're happy to see him or her. Maybe it was especially hard for your teacher to get up and get to school that day. Maybe he or she really wanted to call in sick. It's nice to know that your students look forward to seeing you every day.
3. Offer to be their helper. Perhaps you could help make sure your teacher has ice water. Or, maybe you could help "watch" the class if the teacher needs to leave suddenly.
4. Give small gifts. Considering picking up a cheap hat that you think your teacher might like. Or, maybe buy items like hand lotion or fuzzy spa socks, which may help make chemo a little more bearable. Your teacher  will be touched that you thought of him or her.

Staci Waites is breast cancer patient at MD Anderson regional care center in Bay Area. ]]> My ovarian cancer diagnosis: My journey to heal tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2754 2013-05-08T13:36:35Z 2013-05-08T18:06:47Z My ovarian cancer diagnosis. I knew that I would be forever changed by ovarian cancer. Cancerwise Blogger ovarian cancer patient AH.JPGBy Allyson Hendrickson

On our fourth wedding anniversary, I gave my husband the happy news that we were going to be parents. Our son, Cole, was born in January 2002, followed by two more boys, Cade in 2004 and Austin in 2005. I began to refer to the boys as my "little cowboys," and the name stuck.

The days when they were babies went by in a blur. I was exhausted, my house was a wreck, everything I touched was dirty or sticky or grubby -- and I loved my life. Each of my little cowboys could melt my heart with just one word: "Mommy."

In June 2007, when my sons were 5, 3, and 1½ years old, some unusual pain landed me in the ER. Several tests were inconclusive, but they raised enough suspicion that my ob/gyn thought it a good idea to do an exploratory surgery to check for ovarian cancer.  

The morning after the operation, the doctor said six words that changed my life: "I have bad news. It's cancer."
]]> "I don't belong here."
Within days of my ovarian cancer diagnosis, I had an appointment scheduled with a gynecologic oncologist. I remember three things from that day:
  • I had to ask a friend to keep my little cowboys while I went to the doctor. I hated the feeling of needing help.
  • I was scared to death. Everything seemed routine -- no big deal -- to the nurse, the doctor and even the receptionist. The fact that I had ovarian cancer and did not know what to do, or even what questions to ask, added to my fear.
  • The waiting room was filled with sick, bald-headed women. I wanted to scream, "I don't belong here!"
Counting backwards
Three days after my oldest son started kindergarten, I underwent surgery to take out the grapefruit-sized tumor from my body. The operation also included a full hysterectomy.

I signed the consent papers reluctantly, fully understanding the medical necessity, but heartbroken at the prospect of not being able to have more babies.

My heart still beats faster when I recall the fear that I felt as the anesthesiologist leaned over me and said, "Okay, Allyson. I want you to start counting backward from 30. Ready?" I didn't even make it to 20 before I plunged into darkness.

A funny way to learn about platelets
Two weeks later, I dragged my newly barren self back to the doctor's office. Along with my ovaries, I felt like my spirit had been cut out.

Recovery was much more difficult than I expected. With three little cowboys at home, quiet and rest were hard to come by.

As I waited to have my staples removed, the ladies next to me chatted happily. I was dumbfounded that anyone could have friends in an oncology office. Their conversation went something like this:
 
Lady 1: How are you?
Lady 2: I'm not that great today. I don't have any platelets.
Lady 1: What happened?
Lady 2: I've switched chemotherapy meds again. The new drug has messed up my blood, and I've had to have 3 units of blood. I'll tell you, after each blood unit, I would stop by Krispy Kreme on the way home. I would buy a dozen donuts and eat every single one. My husband would say, "Honey, are you hungry?" And I would tell him, "No, not really." Then we would drive through the donut place anyway. They were delicious.

Both ladies laughed like this was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

All I knew about platelets was that you could sell them for money in college. I had no idea how you could live without them, let alone eat a dozen donuts on borrowed blood, but I had a terrible feeling that I was about to find out. I was so depressed.

Beginning to heal after my ovarian cancer diagnosis
Slowly but surely, the wound on my belly began to heal. Just as surely, with a little help from my three cowboys, my heart began to heal as well. 

I knew that I would be forever changed by ovarian cancer, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I refused to live in fear. I chose instead to allow my outlook on life to be altered: I wanted to pour myself into the things and the people that I loved, so that I would have no regrets.

At my post-op check-up, my doctor gave me the all-clear and instructed me to "go home and tell your sons that their mom will live to be an old lady." I joyfully did as he said.

I had no idea that my fight against ovarian cancer had barely just begun.

Allyson Hendrickson is a wife, a mom, and that means that she's living my dream. She loves her faith, her man, her boys and her dog. She thinks that kids are fun, and if we pay attention, we can learn more from them than they do from us. Follow Allyson's journey. ]]> MD Anderson nurses: The heart of the hospital tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2753 2013-05-07T12:43:14Z 2013-05-07T14:34:49Z The nurses made a tremendous impression on me - all starched and serious with little caps, white stockings and squishy, spotless white oxfords. MD Anderson nurses, Heart of the hospital. Cancerwise Blogger Anne Balson.JPGBy Anne Balson

"Nurses are angels in comfortable shoes."
-- Author Unknown

My appendix ruptured the summer after my freshman year in college. This was a big deal back in the fifties; I was in the hospital for over a week.

The nurses made a tremendous impression on me - all starched and serious with little caps, white stockings and squishy, spotless white oxfords.

Beginning in October 2011, I spent 15 months in outpatient cancer treatment at MD Anderson. The nurses, again, were extraordinary. But what a difference the decades have made.

Now there were smiles and colorful scrubs, and almost everyone was wearing Crocs and socks.]]> MD Anderson nurses: Heart of the hospital
Fashion is probably not the best criteria for judgment, but it does reflect the times and the spirit of nurses now. They are and always have been the heart of a hospital, especially one like MD Anderson.

For many, this is a miraculous and a sacred place. Initially, however, it feels like a bewildering maze of specialists and schedulers, waiting and appointments a mile away.

Until you get into the MD Anderson rhythm, a nurse's smile and kind words can reduce you to grateful tears.

Nurses: One constant in your cancer journey
This initial period is particularly challenging. You are often lost, scoped and stuck and shocked by distant, highly efficient people you will never see again.

The core of staffers in your own clinic who were so welcoming the first day seem far, far away as you struggle to get your bearings and remember which elevator gets you to which department.

You'll come to realize that the nurses -- along with their smiles and warm blankets -- are the one constant in your cancer journey.

Best of the best
The nurse-patient relationship is often as immediate, important and intimate as any we are likely to experience.

I believe this relationship works better and with better results at MD Anderson than at most other hospitals. It's impossible to speak too highly of the nursing care I was blessed with during my cancer treatment.

From the highly unscientific survey I conducted among friends who spent time at MD Anderson, as patients or caregivers, the nurses were judged to be simply the best.

My equally unscientific, prejudiced opinion is that this is why:
  • MD Anderson nurses, almost without exception, love what they do and are happy to be doing it. They genuinely care about their patients. 
  • Those who excel at patient care and contact aren't promoted to training or administration. They stay on the floor with their patients, and they stay effective.
  • At MD Anderson, each nurse seems to have been there for a very long time. There were no rookies and no 'oops' moments at any time during my treatment. Even the student nurses who cared for me in the emergency center were highly skilled, caring and professional.
You'll never forget how they made you feel
nurse for CW.JPGSadly, the fleeting nature of the relationship, combined in my chemo brain, made it impossible for me to remember the names of exceptional nurses or commend them with an MD Anderson Star Card.

But Maya Angelou once said, "They may forget your name but they will never forget how you made them feel." That's how I feel. When things settled down after all the tests and diagnoses, my first treatment experience was a week of  apheresis treatment.  

I'm more than a little claustrophobic. The idea of being pinned down for hours with an IV in each arm filled me with dread, which I'm certain was obvious.

My amazing nurse stayed very close by me the entire day - and did the same for the six days that followed. My final apheresis treatment fell on a Saturday, her day off. The idea that she would not be there made me terribly anxious.

But when I arrived, there she was. "I came in to take care of you," she said simply.

That's what the MD Anderson nurses are all about.

Anne Balson is a 76-year-old Waldenstrom's macroglobulinemia patient living in Houston. ]]> Meeting the geriatrician: A cancer diagnosis' silver lining tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2752 2013-05-06T15:25:00Z 2013-05-06T17:34:14Z Meeting the geriatrician, A cancer diagnosis' silver lining. So, Mom was sent to see Beatrice Edwards, M.D., a geriatrician here at MD Anderson. Deborah Thomas Deborah Thomas' mother.JPGI know it sounds really odd to say I'm glad my mom found out she has cancer, but in a strange kind of way I am. If my mother wasn't diagnosed and coming to MD Anderson, there is a good chance her other health issues would not have been discovered.

My mom went for her physicals every year and was told she was healthy. However, when she came to MD Anderson, doctors diagnosed another discernible issue besides her cancer - extreme hypertension.

Geriatrician fills in the gaps for seniors
So, Mom was sent to see Beatrice Edwards, M.D., a geriatrician here at MD Anderson. Mom thought she was just having her high blood pressure checked, but Dr. Edwards checked for every possible thing that could be a problem for a senior.
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Dr. Edwards also had my mom walk around the room so she could observe her balance. Mom's gait is a bit off, plus she needs to get back into exercise, so Dr. Edwards prescribed physical therapy.

Is chemotherapy the right choice for the elderly?
At a follow-up visit, my mom and I asked Dr. Edwards if Mom should even be doing chemo at her age, especially since Mom thought she did awful during her cognitive testing.

It really made a difference to hear a geriatrician explain why my mother should go forward with the chemotherapy. After studying my mom's tests and scans -- including her cognitive tests, on which she actually did quite well -- Dr. Edwards said my mom is very healthy for her age. If it wasn't for the cancer, she would predict my mom living 14 years or more. The chemo, she explained, is the best way to shrink all the cancer, and if we don't do that, it will shorten my mother's life. That definitely helped us make up our minds!

If my mother suffered from dementia or another cognitive issue, had weak bones and was prone to falls, or had other health concerns, Dr. Edwards would have suggested we talk to Mom's oncologist about a less aggressive approach -- possibly one not involving chemotherapy.

Geriatricians complement oncologists
Oncologists specialize in spotting tumors in CT and MRI scans, but a geriatrician looks for other complications. Dr. Edwards looked for signs of mini-strokes in my mom's MRI and found none (yay!). She also could tell my mom has lost 40% of bone mass due to osteoporosis. She prescribed medicines that will combat bone loss since chemo may cause a 6% drop in bone density.

Dr. Edwards gave my mom some homework, and I love the assignments. I've been after Mom for years to get back into exercising, and now it is on her must-do list. Dr. Edwards said exercise, as well as intellectual activity, preserves brain function. She also prescribed participation in book clubs and weekly bridge card games.

Geriatricians are for the young at heart, too
People may be turned off by the word "geriatrician," thinking it's for "old" people. But even if you're a healthy person over 60 diagnosed with cancer, it is a great idea to see a geriatrician before, during and after your cancer treatment.

They specialize in problems that may arise in elderly patients. So, if you want to keep those issues at bay or under control, seeing a geriatrician is a must.

Resources
Healthy aging for the cancer patient (podcast) ]]> Inflammatory Breast Cancer: How MD Anderson is leading the fight tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2751 2013-05-03T12:45:28Z 2013-05-03T14:28:26Z Inflammatory breast cancer (IBC) is the most aggressive form of breast cancer. Ricardo H. Alvarez, M.D., is a breast medical oncologist in the Morgan Welch Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Program. Lucy Richardson alvarez MD.JPGInflammatory breast cancer (IBC) is the most aggressive form of breast cancer. Symptoms for this rare type of breast cancer often include itching, dimpling of the skin of the breast, and a pink, red or dark-colored area of the breast. As a result, IBC is frequently misdiagnosed as a rash or infection.

Because IBC is very fast growing, it's crucial that IBC be treated as quickly as possible and by specialized experts.

MD Anderson established the world's first IBC clinic in 2007 to treat women who've been treated before as well as those who are newly diagnosed. MD Anderson's doctors see more IBC patients than any other center in the world.

Ricardo  H. Alvarez, M.D., is a breast medical oncologist in the Morgan Welch Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Program and Clinic.
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]]> Cancer survivor: What I learned about myself at the Boston Marathon tag:www2.mdanderson.org,2013:/cancerwise//6.2749 2013-05-02T13:39:08Z 2013-05-03T16:51:27Z Cancer survivor Linda Ryan struggled to find motivation to run the way she did before and during chemotherapy treatment when her cervical cancer recurred. But being at the Boston Marathon changed that. Cancerwise Blogger Linda in Boston.JPGBy Linda Ryan

I'm working hard to get back to my pre-cancer fitness level. I've struggled to find motivation to run the way I did before and during chemotherapy treatment when my cervical cancer recurred.  

Oddly, I found my running rhythm during a weekend that was so tragic for our country and a city I love.   

Feeling grateful
It has been 17 days since I walked down Boylston Street past the finish line of the 117th Boston Marathon. I was on Boylston Street 10 minutes before the explosions that killed and left many people injured.  

I'm blessed and was blessed on April 15 to not have been injured that day. 

I can say with certainty I walked by the two men who committed the horrible crimes in Boston.]]> Working hard to cross the finish line
The day before the marathon I ran the 5K sponsored by the Boston Athletic Association. Because speed isn't my gift, I figured it might be the only way I ever crossed the Boston Marathon finish line.   

I finished the 5K with a time of 33:13, a personal record for me by more than two minutes. 

I felt so strong when running that day. I rarely run with intentions of a time better than past races. This race was no different. I wasn't there for time. I was there for the experience. 

As I turned from Hereford onto Boylston, the finish line was in sight. It was so exciting, and this was only the 5K. I can't imagine the strength the crowds give the marathoners on that stretch.    

When I run races, the finishes sometimes help me gain momentum. I felt good. I was floating. 

My college roommate and her daughter and sister were very close to the finish and yelled from the sidelines. Another burst of energy for me. How special to share the experience with them. 

"Back on my feet"
I'm part of a Sub-30 5K Facebook group. It's made up of people who have a goal of running a 5K in under 30 minutes. When I joined, I thought that was an attainable goal but never really worked at reaching it. Wasn't it enough I was in the group and wanted to run a 5K in under 30 minutes? 

Not only did the personal record in Boston help me to realize I actually can run a sub-30 5K if I work at it, but it was a clear sign my body is getting stronger. It feels like another victory over cancer.  

Cancer may have knocked me down, but I am back on my feet and I am stronger. 

Mourning and motivation
I mourn for the many injured at the Boston Marathon. I mourn for the thousands who trained and had their efforts and accomplishments overshadowed by the attack. 

I also mourn for those who worked so hard to qualify and didn't to finish the race they had their hearts set on when they started their training months before.   

I may never run the Boston marathon, and that's okay. Being in Boston has motivated me to run again. Boston has made me believe I can do it.   

Linda Ryan thought she had checked cancer off her list. Having just run her first marathon, it was hard to imagine that her cervical cancer had returned after seven years. Cancer chose the wrong woman. She was ready to battle cancer for the third time with health, laughter and friendship. Follow Linda Ryan at MeStrong.net.
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