E-mails to Blue Butterfly #7

I received this e-mail today from a reader in response to The Cancer Survivors Companion book review: Hi Blue Butterfly, I read your blog post [about The Cancer Survivors Companion] and had to respond...I love the honesty, especially about feeling like your cancer "wasn't that bad". I too had similar feelings for the longest time because they told me I had a "good" brain cancer. I feel that the guilt I had associated with having the good one was brought on mostly by doctors telling me that I had nothing to worry about, only recently have I realized that my fears and anxieties are valid, as there is no such thing as good cancer. Anyways I love the blog. Colin This is an excerpt from my response: Thank you so much Colin. I was a little weary about publishing that post because it was sooo raw and is exactly where I am right now. However obviously you connected to it too. Sometimes we just need some permission to grieve about what we've been through and lost. I know I certainly did and I think this book helped me to do that. Give myself permission. Thanks for sharing. Also, may I publish your e-mail? I will not use your name however I like what you said and I think other readers can relate.

The Cancer Survivor's Companion

It's been a little over a year since my last book review and for this one, I write about a book that I discovered quite accidentally at the library. I was coming back from gathering books about children's illustration and writing, when I passed the aisle of books about cancer-- an aisle I hadn't visited in a longtime. Very prominently placed on the shelf were two books about surviving cancer-- one that looked a little outdated and another title, The Cancer Survivor's Companion: Practical ways to cope with your feelings after cancer by Dr. Frances Goodhart and Lucy Atkins, which were new to me. I thought I'd leave these books behind because I didn't think I needed it. Against my better judgement, I continued walking away but then I stopped. I realized that maybe this book could help me to understand some of the anxieties I have been experiencing a lot. So I turned around and signed out this book. I have been feeling anxiety more frequently and part of me feels like I shouldn't be having these anxieties and that I should be over this by now. As a thyroid cancer survivor, a part of me still feels like I didn't have it that bad which is even more reason to feel like I should not be having anxieties. I feel exhausted at the end of a work day and at times during the day especially on Friday afternoons when I have some of my most challenging classes to teach. Again, there are when I feel, "Why am I feeling this way? I'm weak. It's been two years since my diagnosis." I have also begun to feel disappointed that I feel like I'm not doing as much I used to and not able to do as much as I used to. Sometimes I feel like others will pass me by as I slow down. I also feel this pressure to accomplish a lot of things before it is too late and by "too late" I mean, recurrence or even death. I feel more impatient and hurried with my dreams and blame myself for not having accomplished certain things by now. I also have fears that if I feel too stressed, upset, or "worked up", the cancer will come back. Of course, this is all going on inside of my head sometimes at the same time. Sounds like a piece of work, right? My mind's a busy place. Then along comes The Cancer Survivor's Companion which was written by a British clinical psychologist Dr. Frances Goodhart and a health journalist Lucy Atkins. For over twenty years, Dr. Goodhart has worked with individuals and families coping with life-threatening illnesses namely cancer. Lucy Atkins helped to put the academic lingo into "plain speak". There wrote this book because frankly there was no book like this on the market. Although there were many case studies and quotes from Goodhart's practice, these were mostly from clients over the age of 50. I didn't think I could relate so I almost stopped reading this book. Although some of the organizational and health references are different as they refer to the United Kingdom, this book is helpful. However, as I flipped through the rest of it, I realized that there was a lot I could relate to. (I read much of it while on a flight and visiting New York City. I am still here as I type this review.) First of all, this book helped me to articulate and name some of the feelings and thoughts I am having. There are chapters on worries, depression and low mood, anger, self-esteem and body image, as well as fatigue. It helped me to find descriptors for how these feelings have been surfacing in different areas of life. In the chapter on Body Image and Self-Esteem, the authors list "thought traps" for example: - Minimising: "Yeah, I made lunch, but I used to do ten times as much in a day'; 'OK, so I've started to work on my weight but it will never make the scars go'. There are also strategies describing how to overcome these "traps". Second of all, the book normalized these thoughts for me and helped me to realize that it is only natural for me to experience them. After all, I have been through a life-threatening illness and many feelings come up months, even years later. Just because the threat of cancer is no longer present, it does not mean my emotions and mind has caught up to that, still in a "fight or flight" mode. Some of the case studies I read, reminded me of things I said or experienced. If other people experience them, then I am not alone. In the conclusion, there are the helpful statements: In the very least, this book should have shown you that you are not mad or weak or 'different' because of what you're going through. There are thousands of people wrestling with similar post-cancer emotions right now. Third, it helped me to be more patient with myself. The book helped me acknowledge that cancer has shifted my world view and I am trying to get used to "the new me". I identified with a client mentioned in one particular case study of a 35-year old testicular cancer survivor named Jamal who after cancer felt inadequate in his role as a father, husband, and paramedic. After getting to know his 'new self' and completing exercises, he did adjust. 'I don't feel like the same person I was before. I've changed- my attitude to life, my job, my roles- everything... It's ongoing, but nowadays, at least I feel I can do it: I can be a good dad, paramedic, and husband. Not the one I was before, but the one I am now.' The Cancer Survivor's Companion was not around when I looked for a book about survivorship a year ago but I found it at a great time. Published in 2011, this book made it's way into my life and helped me to feel that I deserve to be "kinder" and "gentler" to myself. There are many exercises to help cope with some of the feelings that I have been experiencing including ways to deal with some recurring issues such as fatigue and difficulty in relaxing. After reading this book, I feel like I have some useful tools. As a result, I feel the need to adjust some of my New Year's Resolutions and goals for this year to create SMART (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant and Time-sensitive) goals. It's not that they all can't get done, but they shouldn't be created with an old sense of what I was able to do before. I wish to suit my goals to who I am now and celebrate the many things that I have been able to accomplish.

Changes

Some things have changed for me. Big time.

1. Absence I have not written on my blog in months. Three months. I continue to write daily but in my journal instead. This daily practice has meant the world to me, giving me quiet, solace, space, and time during my day to reflect, get centred and also escape. I think some of the absence is related to the need for me to keep my thoughts contained, own my thoughts, and in writing on the internet, blogging, you share your thoughts, you give them away... Nonetheless, I am thrilled to know that my Blue Butterfly blog still continues to be read by many and hit 100, 000 pageviews in October. I will share my thoughts as I am ready.

2. Loss I am not as involved in a lot of cancer- and thyroid-cancer related activities. Right now, I feel like I need a break. Today, I just learned a fifth young person who I met through young adult cancer circles has past away. I only spoke to Naomi Baker on a few occasions at the YACC Conference in 2011. I since learned that Naomi is an artist, she has two Mater's degrees, and she was also a teacher like me. She also had this calm spirit about her. Maybe it was the Kris Carr-inspired Crazy, Sexy, Cancer life that she lived. (Naomi shared with me that she attended a retreat with Kris and spent time speaking with her. Naomi promised to connect me with some interesting lectures that Kris did but I never pursued it.)

I felt sad, hurt, and disgusted when I discovered this news. Why is she gone? Like me, she got married this year seemingly suggesting that she had many more years to live. I know she was sick but it doesn't seem fair. Part of me almost wish I didn't meet her, so I do not feel a sense of loss. I know that sounds selfish, doesn't it? Rest in peace Naomi. These losses from the young adult cancer community has been something I think contributed to distancing myself from the cancer groups. In April, I lost a friend to stomach cancer-- her name is Agnes Kwasnicka.

Agnes Kwasnicka, Dr. Kwasnicka, was only 35 years old when she passed away. I met Agnes and her partner Greg through a Toronto Vegetarian Association (TVA) event called the Compassionate Marketplace. Agnes and Greg were volunteering at the registration table and signed me up as a member. Agnes recognized my name when she saw it written down because she had visited this blog. Like me, she was a vegan and as we talked, I learned that she was also a cancer survivor. I still feel a lot of sadness with the passing of Agnes. In fact, I had not written about it on this blog until today. It was too hard. Today, I went to dinner with two of my friends at Fresh. As we took our seats, I realized that I was sitting down at the very booth where I last sat with Agnes. It was about a year ago when I went to Fresh for brunch with her and some of the young adults we met in the cancer community. This was the last time I saw her before she moved out west to be closer to family to spend her last days. Agnes was my friend for a few reasons. She attended my positive prognosis by attending my Celebration of Life fundraising picnic. I am still amazed that she celebrated this day with me, that day I thought I was "cured" based on what my endocrinologist, Endo #4, told me, but technically I was (and still am) in remission which is not a word that thyroid cancer doctors seem to use as is done with other cancers. (In November this year, at the follow-up after my September scan, my new Endo, Endo #5, told me I am "low risk of recurrence" and require "annual follow-up".) As a doctor, Agnes would have known that I will most likely be cured and live a very normal life post-thyroid cancer. She would have also known very well the course her own disease would take. Her prognosis was not positive like mine yet she came out to my potluck picnic with her partner Greg, their two dogs, and a vegan dish in tow. She came. She came to celebrate with me. How selfless!

Agnes also made an extra effort to include me in activities with other young adult cancer survivors. She was wise, thoughtful, and intelligent and I wished so much that I had contacted her when she first moved away. She moved away in January, by February I thought about her and sent her a card in March. When she did not respond to my e-mails and I read her blog with updates, I had a feeling that things were not looking good. Greg had indicated that she was not able to respond to the e-mails but that he could share them with her. I felt silly sending e-mails to Agnes about my upcoming wedding and the plans and seemingly trivial questions. I desperately hoped to communicate with her but it wasn't long before I got the news that she was gone. After her passing, I attended a dinner with a few friends of Agnes from the young adult cancer community. I had a hole inside and I wanted to find others who knew her and could relate. (I had already lost my Uncle C (Horace) just a few weeks prior. Uncle C passed away suddenly on a visit to Jamaica just a few months before our wedding which he was supposed to attend. My husband and I missed him so much.) I attended a memorial for Agnes at Wellspring. In October, I also attended a memorial organized by Greg at St. Michael's Hospital to launch a scholarship in her memory where I was asked to say a few words. Ironically, I knew Agnes in the "cancer world" as a fellow survivor yet many in the "vegan/vegetarian" world, one that I was new to but she and Greg belonged to for many years, did not know she was ill at all. She was such a dedicated volunteer to this cause. Here is an article written by a TVA staff member of the Toronto Vegetarian Association. In her last years, Agnes focused on her life, people, her husband, her family and her activism. I once asked her what she wanted her funeral to be like. She told me she doesn't want to think about that. She focuses on living. At the Wellspring memorial, I dedicated a song Greg asked me to share with other young adult cancer survivors who wished to remember Agnes. It was a song that Agnes requested to have played at her funeral. The time that I knew Agnes was very short, not even a year, but it had a huge impact on my life. The stories about Agnes I hear from others who knew her, she sounds mouthy and "punk rock" and fiercely vegan. (A lot of the young cancer survivors I have met are kind of "punk rock".) I would have loved to get to know her better.

3. Work The third thing that changed for me is returning to work full-time. What a huge change! I didn't think I would last 6+ hours each day teaching up to nine classes and 200+ student again but I made it through the last four months with a totally new teaching assignment. I am teaching Music and French from kindergarten to Grade 8. It's quite a challenge. At the end of the teaching day, I am exhausted. There isn't much energy for anything else which brings me to...

4. My Introverted Nature I am such an introvert. I realize now that I have always been an introvert. As a child, I used to prefer staying in at recess so that I could finish my art projects. Or if I did go out for recess, I would read books or share the books that I made with other kids or hang out with one or two friends. I was a bit of a loner and even if others didn't see me that way, I identified with being a loner. Now in my adult years, post-cancer, I realize that I especially crave the quiet spaces and times that I had during the months of recovery/healing time after surgery. During this time, I would spend hours journaling, blogging, meditating, doing yoga, and reading. During my four day radioactive isolation in 2011, I sketched pictures and journalled lots. Now, I am two years after my diagnosis and I am still trying to make meaning of this introverted nature that feels even stronger. Part of me is scared, terrified by the fact that I am more clearly aware than ever before that life is short and I am even more reflective and introspective than before. I treasure my life and think often about how to make it more fulfilling and happy. It is a bit of a contradiction for me since I have done so many extraverted things in my life and love performing and being in front of an audience. I think I figured out how to function much better now in a world where extraverts get ahead, rewarded, and acknowledged. At heart, I don't follow the crowd and stand a part from the pack.

5. I'm a Writer... I'm a Writer... I'm a Writer I'm a writer and as of late, I have been having these insistent thoughts that I must write a lot more than I have before. A few weeks ago, I woke up at 2:30am on a worknight with the urge to write. The urge was so strong and would not leave me and so I got up and started to write. Another night, I could not sleep after reading a list of African-Canadian children's books written since 2000. The list had twenty books and was very narrow in topical focus, mostly about slavery and the Underground Railroad. Most of the writers weren't African-Canadian. I wondered who would write the books for African-Canadian children now? I couldn't sleep with that thought and lay awake for hours as my mind raced. I want to write but I've got to eat. I have had a few conversations with writers lately and some encouraged me to pursue this passion and it's still to come. My frustration is that I lack energy and time at the end of an intense workday to start working on my books. So recently, I decided to take my eyes off another Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in Writing for Children program at the Vermont College of Fine Arts just long enough to acknowledge what I feel that I need. (I applied to UBC's MFA in Creative Writing program in 2011.) I also need to journal every morning (and sometimes evening) or else the day just does not seem right.

So I've ordered every book from the library about writing and illustrating for children. I need a mentor!!! I need a doula, a midwife, someone to help coach me through the journey of writing for publication. I need someone to help me focus and work diligently to complete at least one book project. The first one I wish to complete is one that I have worked on for the last three years which is about seventy pages in length. So I will be applying to some mentorships in the new year and until I can figure out how I will finance a $ 40, 000+ MFA program at VCFA without any funding from Canada, the United States, or anyone else, I will try to get some writing mentorship (a much more affordable option for me) somewhere. I am meeting other writers more and more and there are so many who offer their words of wisdom and help me see that you can earn a living at this. I am actually starting to see myself more and more as a writer who can actually make a life out of this. Some of my students have started making books that they illustrate. When they show these stapled paper booklets with pencil-drawn images to me, I am so impressed and honoured and excited. I love it! They are self-publishing. They are trusting me to look at their manuscripts. I am sooo excited. I feel sort of like their mentors. So these changes listed hear still mean that there is still a year of changes awaiting me and with that more growth to come. I look forward to it.

Too Young to Die

I was in a funk today (translation: sad) and set up my playlist of Jamiroquai songs. When "Too Young to Die" came up, I immediately thought of Julie Devenny whose funeral is today. The song is a protest against politicians sending young men and women out to fight in the military to die for their country. This is a perfect analogy for fighting the "war of cancer". Each year, over 7, 000 people are diagnosed with cancer in Canada. The cancer death rates for many age groups have decreased but this is not the case for young adults which have remained the same since the 1970s.

She battled breast cancer for five years. I shared a train ride with Julie and Bonnie from the Young Adult Cancer (YACC) Conference in Ottawa last November. Julie was so vibrant, outgoing, and looked like she had a lot more living to do. She died too early at the age of 30. At the conference, Julie was always laughing and joking around and, me being a bit of an introvert that weekend, was more quiet and withdrawn. Yet during our train ride, I got to chat with her and learn about her. I saw Julie's quieter side. Julie's cancer was stage 4. I remember she said that she first found out she had breast cancer after graduation. When she finished her first bout of cancer and was deemed "in remission", she dived into her career as a physiotherapist. She loved her job and worked hard at it but had to leave it once again when she was rediagnosed with stage 4. Julie did not look sick by any means.

Julie's obituary photo. To read Julie Devenny's obituary, please click here.


Julie on the court playing for the University of Waterloo. Coincidentally, I was a student here too but never met Julie at the time.


Less than a week prior to Julie's passing, Andréanne Arcand, who also attended the YACC Conference passed away. I got to know Andréanne during the conference well because she was in my small group. I was intrigued by her peaceful nature and also her spiritual experience with Peruvian shamans. Andréanne had a form salivary cancer. Although her tumours and surgery scars were visible on her face and arms, she was radiantly beautiful. She was selfless and I remember her saying that she was glad that the suffering she was going through was happening to her and not a family member. I could not imagine what it must be like to be at stage 4. I asked Andréanne what she focused on in life. She told me she focused on spending time with her family and friends and living.

Andréanne Arcand, to read her obituary click here


And just a few short weeks prior to Andréanne, Adam Cardinal, another YACC Conference participant, passed away. I don't remember talking to or interacting with Adam but the only memory I think I have of him is sitting in front on the bench in front of the hotel, alone. Was it Adam Cardinal, I saw sitting there, smoking a cigarette? Did I say hello? I don't remember.

Adam Cardinal, to read his YACC profile click here


When I learned about the news that three survivors passed away, I gradually felt numbness, guilt, and some anxiety and disgust. How could this be? I felt a hurt feeling in my heart. I felt worried. How much time do all of the sick people I know have?

When I found out about Andréanne, I went back through my e-mails. I recall e-mailing her. This is what I wrote:


November 9, 2011Blue Butterfly
It was really a pleasure to meet you. I hope you're sleeping in your own bed tonight and out of the hospital. My hope is that your health is stable.

November 9, 2011Andreanne A
Thank you. Yes I am back home since Monday night and it feels great to be able to sleep in my own bed.
It was great meeting you too!

Is that all I wrote?

I became increasingly aware of how limited the time is for many cancer survivors. I think of all of the sick people I know and I felt guilty. Guilty about the fact that I have actually begun to forget that I had cancer at times. Felt guilty about doing things like planning my wedding, putting a deposit on my gown, and nursing an eye infection. I get to celebrate and get stronger and healthier while others get sicker.

But now (as I write this on Thursday), I realize that all of these experiences, it is all life. Life.

Andréanne's words meant she was focusing on life.

On Saturday, I mourned a bit for Julie at home. I mourned for sick survivors. I also mourned the part of me that obsesses and worries, wasting precious time. So I danced when I heard all of my Jamiroquai tunes and from this dance, I felt my mood lift. There is so much living to do.

I cherish the lives of these three young adult cancer survivors who each touched my life in different ways. They were all too young to die and have not experienced many of life's triumphs like getting married, having children, realizing dreams, buying a home, growing old, and many other dreams. May they continue to live on among those who knew and loved them.

Funky Sexy Manifesto #33 Become an Illustrator

When I was a child, I had many dreams. One of my dreams was to be an artist. Luckily, I had a natural skill for drawing, crafts, and painting although as I got older I began to doubt the practicality of this skill and even my talent. Nevertheless, drawing came very easily to me. (I think this skill runs in my family since all of my siblings can draw.) I never felt anxious or inhibited when asked to draw something in art class since I felt very comfortable coming up with an image from my imagination or sketching a still life. I began creating my own picture books at the age of six. In fact, I felt more relaxed and in elementary school, I often asked the teacher if I could stay in at recess so that I could finish an art piece. Often my classmates said, "You are such a good draw-er" or "You're an artist." I entered my drawings and posters into contests and received honourable mentions. At the age of nine, I had the opportunity to paint a large mural of a picture I drew at the new wing constructions site at the Hospital for Sick Children. I even won the art award at my high school graduation. My middle sister and I both shared a love for art and would spend hours drawing together as children. As I got older, I spent less time with visual arts other than a few courses in high school. Art got pushed behind things like academics when I took more and more science and math courses, got involved in extra-curricular activities, and other ambitions. By the time I got to university, I rarely put my pencil to paper for drawing. (My sister however was smart and majored in art for a time in university.)

A few years ago, I began drawing characters, characters who had stories. I dreamt of doing a graphic novel and began to recover my dreams of being an artist. After creating several sketches, I enrolled in a community college course in Illustration. At first, I loved it. I was being exposed to so many techniques and materials but for the first time in my life, I was being seriously critiqued for my drawings and I wasn't the only "good drawer" in the class but surrounded by other artists. Although, I enjoyed the weekly assignments, I felt overwhelmed with the feedback and the intensity and I dropped the course. I have also participated in my own personal growth for years with a trained art therapist.

Fast forward a few years to 2011. Since my cancer diagnosis in late 2010, on several occasions throughout my journey, I have turned to the arts for inspiration. Not only writing, as you know, and music, but visual art. I created sketches and drawings and paintings in Art for Cancer workshops and on my own. I made thank you and birthday cards. In addition to my dream of writing books for young people, I wish to become an illustrator. I never had someone take me under their wing when it came to art or give me advice on how to make a living at it or even if my art was good enough to make a living at it. So I decided that this needed to be one of my Funky Sexy Manifestos, a survivor resolution. (It's never too late!)

So earlier this year, I had my first opportunity to get a professional (that is, paying) gig as a Illustrator. I was asked by the Spinlaw Organizing Committee to design a poster for the Spinlaw 2012 Conference: A Seat at the Table. (The conference is for law school students interested in social justice and it will take place on March 3rd, 2012 at the Faculty of Law, University of Toronto.) The poster features Lady Justice as a woman of colour, holding a scale with a Ma'at feather, seated at a big pink boardroom table surrounded by a wheelchair, an Ashanti seat, and Chinese and Middle Eastern chairs. Members of the committee presented their ideas and through our collaboration, problem solving, and discussed, we get the finished poster you see below. I loved this process-- envisioning, sketching, creating drafts, finding techniques, and seeing what works best. I know there will be other projects like this.



Then this weekend, I had my first opportunity to participate in an Art Exhibit thanks to Cid Palacio, the founder of the Art for Cancer Foundation who asked me to participate. The Art for Cancer Foundation is showcasing some of my art as well as that of other survivors and artists at the City Hall Rotunda in Toronto City Hall this week from February 17-24, 2012. This is a free event.



I will also sell some of my beautifully illustrated handmade cards on Friday, February 24th from 1-6pm. A portion of the proceeds from these sales will go to the Art for Cancer Foundation.

Papillon Bleu

A blue butterfly is...
a magical creature and at the moment you see it, you must offer the blue butterfly your dreams. The blue butterfly will take your dreams to the Great Spirit. Blue morpho uses his beauty to lure people into the forest whose spirit will be lost forever.




This quote was taken from a clip in the 2004 Quebec (French-Canadian) film Papillon Bleu (Blue Butterfly). The man, a shaman from an ancient indigenous group in Costa Rica, is a member of the Bribri people claim to be descendants of the butterfly. The film is based on a true story.

In 1987, entomologist Georges Brossard founder of the Montreal Insectarium, fulfilled the last wish of a terminally ill young boy David Marenger, by taking him to the rain forest to find a blue morpho. After his return, David's cancer had disappeared and he was healed.

A little girl in the movie, calls the blue butterfly un miracolo (a miracle) and es todo (everything). The movie is sweet and endearing but predictable. Some details of the true story were changed for the big screen. For example, David Marenger is named Pete Carlton. Instead of 6 years old, Pete is 13. The boy who plays Pete in the film displays such a blind optimism and the journey to finding the blue butterfly and consequently a partner for his widowed mother. Instead of the very eccentric and extremely passionate Brossard, we get the dull, guarded, and awkward Alan Osborne played by Canadian actor William Hurt. I enjoyed Pete's journey which took the plot into the very colourful Costa Rican rainforest which was beautifully filmed and enhanced by detailed cinematography and digital special effects. The film inspired me to dream, a dream to see the real blue butterfly in a Costa Rican rainforest.

I had not known about this film until after I developed my Blue Butterfly blog. One sweet detail that I learned from the DVD's special features is that David Marenger is still alive today. Thanks to the film, he has begun to work with children who have cancer. From Marenger, he learned to capture and preserve butterflies which he then gives to sick children.

Alright

Alright by Jamiroquai
(I'm a big Jamiroquai fan!!!)

As a follow-up to my last post Things Fall Apart, I got a phone call from the "vigilant" doctor at the walk-in clinic to tell me that my white blood cell and calcium levels returned to normal.

Phew! What an experience! I will continue to follow through with medical tests and follow-up but the critical part is over and now I feel relief. I think the worst thing about it was how quickly I went into panic mode once I saw the doctor. I did not anticipate that. The panic and fear felt debilitating and it hindered me from moving forward. Between my prayers, I found myself thinking about "worst case scenarios". I am glad that is over.

In response to that post, I had a few helpful comments through my facebook friends. My cousin wrote:

u do what u have to do to keep healthy Blue Butterfly. one day my english teacher did an experiment. he asked each person in my class whats their health issue. at first people were like saying benign things like headache or knee pain but aftee a few answers like this people started being real. all of a sudden people were reeling off the various health conditions they suffer from. many were quite serious. what did this tell us? when u think that u r the only one who is seeing doctors and getting tests...u r not. i found it enlightening to remember we all have issues and that its important to remember that those issues do not define us. u r Blue Butterfly and this is just one of the many things that tell the story of ur life.

I thanked her for this comment as it reminded me to put all of this including my cancer experience into perspective. I can and will move beyond this and other experiences. I am not only a "cancer survivor" or a person who gets sick every once in a while, I am a person, wholly human, and like all people, I have issues. I do no need to let "those issues" define me. Thank you Marsha for your words.

Another response came from a fellow cancer survivor Jen:

This sounds very much like post traumatic stress....I have a history of it and was reading up on it a bit more today, trying to familiarize myself with the irritability and my reactions to things - hypersensitivity. Having been through a life threatening illness, it's generally quite a usual reaction to anything that could possibly be. Even five years out now, I'm still paranoid and do my best to write about it, talk about it and am going to book an appointment for professional advice on how to move forward. I hope all goes well with you Nadia. This sounds so much like my search for the "hidden illness" for the first three years post-treatment. Once I came to the acceptance that this was just going to be life and that I needn't frighten myself so much about the little stuff, I found a lot of it went away, or I just didn't notice it as much.

Given my background(I completed my undergraduate degree in Honour's psychology), I was familiar with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I studied it and knew that it can often affect victims of war, veterans and retired soldiers, rape victims, or anyone who has experienced a traumatic event. Wikipedia defines post-traumatic stress disorder as:

a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma.[1][2][3] This event may involve the threat of death to oneself or to someone else, or to one's own or someone else's physical, sexual, or psychological integrity,[1] overwhelming the individual's ability to cope. As an effect of psychological trauma, PTSD is less frequent and more enduring than the more commonly seen acute stress response. Diagnostic symptoms for PTSD include re-experiencing the original trauma(s) through flashbacks or nightmares, avoidance of stimuli associated with the trauma, and increased arousal—such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, anger, and hypervigilance. Formal diagnostic criteria (both DSM-IV-TR and ICD-10) require that the symptoms last more than one month and cause significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.[1]

I have learned recently from my readings that PTSD also affects cancer survivors. When I had this health scare, I found myself saying, "Not again." I also relived those weeks and months of not knowing and feeling anxious as tests were administered. Knowing about PTSD did not prevent me from feeling so anxious or my fears from seeming so real.

How did I cope with this situation?

Prayer, meditation, conversations with friends and family, sleeping, and writing. I tried my best to do other things like reading, cooking, and yoga which are all activities I found to be therapeutic. I also spent time with my fiance. By following the doctor's instructions and taking proactive steps to heal myself (eating more vegetables and fruits, napping, vitamins), I think this helped me to "hold it together". I will be alright.

I was asked recently through a family member why am I putting all my business on the internet?

That is an excellent question. After the Things Fall Apart post, I thought about taking it down since it was so personal. However I do feel that it is part of my healing journey and if there is anything that come of it to help another person out, then it is worth it. Plus, I am still grappling with the psychological impact of having had cancer. There is not a lot of information about survivorship especially after thyroid cancer. I hope to expand this body of knowledge.

I am living my life.

Looking Ahead to 2012

I love new beginnings and I am excited by the start of another year. 2012 represents a fresh start. Although there were definitely many challenges in 2011, I am looking forward to moving beyond these into the new year.

Yesterday, on December 31st, I attended the funeral of a man who died from cancer. After four years of fighting metastatic colon cancer, he died early Christmas morning. He was the father of my sister's childhood best friend. As an adult, I reconnected with the family to some extent. I attended her wedding and she attended my sister's wedding. The younger sister of my sister's friend was the pianist at a church I was visiting for a few months. From what I know, he maintained good spirits throughout his illness. He also raised three successful women-- a doctor, a concert pianist, and an international development worker. I was immediately affected by the news of his death. Cancer has claimed the life of yet another person and it has impacted the life of so many others. My thoughts and prayers are with this family.

Cancer survivors are everywhere. I recognized a minister at the funeral and he introduced me to his wife. I had said, "Cancer is a beast. I was diagnosed last year."

"I'm a survivor too," she replied.

"We're everywhere," I agreed. We are even at this funeral.

"What kind? If you don't mind me asking..." she replied.

"Thyroid," I replied showing Meaty. For some reason, I have gotten into the habit of pointing to or revealing my scar when I talk about my diagnosis to someone new. It's never planned though and it's as if I was saying, 'I had cancer. Look! I have proof' or 'This is where the thyroid comes from.'

"Me too," she said. "You did the radiation and the isolation and...?"

"Yup," I said.

"How many years along are you?"

"It just happened this past year." She and a friend respond with gasped with expressions of sympathy.

She proceeded to tell me that it took her five years to recover from her thyroid cancer. "It affects you emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically." I totally understood what she meant. The thyroid is a tiny organ but it packs one hell of a punch. It is tied to so many functions that affect your well-being. Then she proceeded to tell me how she lost the fifty pounds she gained as a side effect of thyroid cancer.

This is her story and she felt compelled to share it with me in great detail. She finished by saying, "If you have any questions or need to talk, please call me." Her thyroid cancer journey was shaped by this experience. Unlike many thyroid cancer survivors, my weight gain has been minimal. Despite the fact that I have re-introduced exercise to my routine six months ago, my weight has not budged at all which is happens to many thy'ca survivors as well. But weight fluctuations or rigidity is only part of the cancer journey story.

The reality of the cancer journey is so multi-faceted. Cancer forces a person to face his or her own mortality as symbolized by the funeral, a physical transformation as in the thy'ca survivor's weight gain, and other challenges. Each person's cancer story is so individualized.

Stories are at the centre of our human existence. They are the reason why television shows and movies are so popular, books become bestsellers, ancient texts are so sacred, and our ancestors gathered in circles around a fire. In 2011, I have been so blessed to share my story to so many people. I have also heard many stories and I look forward to 2012, a year in which I hope to share even more stories through this blog, the Thyroid Cancer Canada quarterly newsletter as a new editor, articles, journal writing, and hopefully a book.

Kris Carr is someone I hope to interview for this blog. I feel that we are kindred spirits for a few reasons. After I started this blog in April, I was amazed to learn about her and see how much her cancer journey reminded me of my own. Second, she is also a Virgo, our birthdays are one week apart. Third, she wrote something that resonated with me in her most recent blog post :

I’m an artist at my core. I struggle, snuggle, protest, pound fists, open arms, break, yell, hide and fly. That’s how I expand. How do you wrangle that!? You don’t.

As I vowed this year not to create any New Year's resolutions (I am resolution-ed out, I already have my 100 Funky Sexy Manifesto Survivor Resolutions also known as FSM, for short), I have instead made a list of things I look forward to in 2012. Kris Carr says that a very "Virgo-esque" thing to do is to assign a resolution for each month. (Do my 10 goals in 90 days count?) This is the closest I come to New Year's resolutions. Here is to sharing them with you my readers.

2012 (Looking forward to it)

- Continue self-care as a top priority (sleep, exercise, eating well, meditation, yoga) (FSM)

- Write, write, write

- Visit prospective Master of Fine Arts (MFA) programs in Creative Writing and apply to the ones I like (FSM)

- Sell my car

- Embrace my new volunteer position as News Editor and Newsletter Committee Chair for Thyroid Cancer Canada (TCC)

- Sing in a Caribbean folk choir

- Spend more time with family

- Learn how to post videos and some podcasts on this blog

- Connect with more writers and opportunities to develop my writing (workshops, classes, retreats)

- Plan my wedding (FSM)

- Run in an event

- Do the Crazy Sexy 21-Day Cleanse (FSM)

- Complete one of my book ideas and send out queries to potential publishers (FSM)

- Be a better kindergarten teacher, writer, partner, sister, family member, and friend

- Move to a nicer, cheaper apartment (FSM)

- Worry less

- Introduce more raw foods on my vegan plate

- Run in an event (FSM)

- Forgive more (FSM)

- Do more speaking engagements (FSM)

- Be more assertive (FSM)

- Spend more time with nature

- Clean house (FSM)

- Budget better

- Read more books and see more movies (FSM)

- Incorporate the 7 principles of Kwanzaa (Nguzo Saba) into my everyday

I realize that putting all this out there, I am taking a bit of a risk. By sharing my vision with y'all, I am feeling a level of accountability for following through... although I must confess that I do have a tendency to overcommit. (I hope I didn't this time.) Also, some of the items on this list sound suspiciously like resolutions. Oh, what the heck? So what if there are some resolutions stuck in there. I have a great feeling about this year.

I wish you and your family a very happy, healthy, and blessed 2012. Happy New Year!!!

Vex in the City: Part 18 Fresh

Taste of the food >< >< >< >< Very good. Fresh always comes out on top when it comes to taste.
Look of the food >< >< >< >< The presentation of the food is always well-done. It looks tasty, bright, and healthy.
Environmentally-Responsibility >< >< >< >< >< There is reuseable cutlery, plates, cups, and utensils. There is a section on their website called Sustainability which describes their environmentally responsible practices by 1) using biodegradable and compostable take-away containers, 2) cooking oils that are recycled for biodiesel purposes, 3) wastes that are composted or recycled when possible, 4) recycled paper products, and 5) biodegradable environmentally safe cleaners.
Health Savvy >< >< >< I did not see any print or online material about the benefits of eating food at this restaurant. However, I like that the vegetable juices, shakes, and beverages are available. There are also E3 Live shots and Elixirs which are described in the menu with a number of health benefits.
Hospitality/Warmth >< >< >< >< >< The staff was very friendly. Since this a large eatery, there is a host and then a team of waiters so you do not sit for long without service.
Décor/Vibe >< >< >< >< >< The decor was very modern and funky. Compared to the decor of the old location, I love the use of orange, green, blue, and accents of purple. See the cover of the cookbook below to get a better idea of what the inside looks like.
Added Perks >< None. They did not know I was doing a restaurant review.
Ethical and Community-Minded >< >< >< >< There is a bit of information where groups and communities could place some information. Plus, they have a website a

Price (for a main course)
$0 - $9 to $30 - $39 It really depends what you order and eat.

I used to go to Fresh a-l-o-t. Too many times to count. My boyfriend (currently my fiance) and I would go there and each time and order the same thing. He would have the Buddha Bowl and I would eat Dosas. We loved their sweet potato fries, their cashew cookies, and he would always order one of their overpriced juices. I would always think that they were overpriced since I knew I could make the same thing at home a lot cheaper but so is the experience of eating at a restaurant. There came a time when we went to Fresh so much that we got tired of it. All the food began to taste the same.

Years and years ago, I purchased their cookbook for $15 which was a wise investment. This was my first foray into vegetarian cooking. At the time, I found the recipes long, complicated, cumbersome (I like that word), and overwhelming. (I have come a long way since then.)

It had been a few years since my last Fresh visit. In fact, since I became vegan this year, I went to Fresh three different times. Bragging three locations in Toronto (I've only been to one), Fresh has become an institution of great plant-based cuisine. It is also probably the easiest "crossover" menu for the non-veg crowd. (Many of my non-vegan friends have been to Fresh.) I noticed a few changes. First, the menu was expanded to include a wider variety of items. Second, they have a lot more vegan-friendly items. Third, I missed their food, the taste, and variety. On each of my three visits, I had difficulty selecting an item from their menu. Fresh is definitely a must-visit eatery if you are ever in Toronto.

Visit One
I met up with a friend to catch-up in the summertime.




My friend had this fruit juice which I do not remember what it was but she loved it.

I had the All Green juice which was very refreshing and tangy.

The infamous cashew cookie.



Visit Two
Breakfast of Champions. I had a wonderful brunch with survivors to say goodbye to Agnes who is moving across the country. I will miss you Agnes.
The Blueberry Almond Pancake Platter

The Banana Nut Pancakes

I had The Full Breakfast. It was very delicious. The scrambled tofu was amazing and I loved the veggie sausage.



Visit Three
This was from a visit with my fiance and Cid Palacio of the Art for Cancer Foundation. This was Cid's first visit to Fresh.
The Detoxifier juice

I had the Mushroom Onion Burger with Daiya cheese. It tasted very good but they could have melted the Daiya cheese before serving it to me. I could have sent it back but had it just the same. I enjoyed the slaw on the side as well as the yummy sweet potato fries.

The infamous Buddha Bowl.

The amazing vegan carrot cake,

Not to be outdone by the cashew cookie.


The latest Fresh cookbook which shows the interior of the Annex location that I visited.

Ebb and Flow

Ebb & Flow - Storytelling For Cancer Survivors from Hands On Films on Vimeo.

Ebb and Flow is a new short film about surviving cancer as a young adult. Co-directed by Mike Lang, a Hodgkin's Lymphoma survivor who was also featured in Wrong Way to Hope, Ebb and Flow is about the Five Phases of the cancer as story structure. You may recall in my post Stories Lead to Wisdom on July 22, I encouraged you to donate to the making of this film. I am proud to have contributed to this project (my name is in the credits at 13:10). I also see the familiar faces of survivors who I got to know through the YACC retreat, conference, and support groups. One face you may recognize is Christina Caverly who I featured in my post, Jaunt in St. John's. I admire her honesty about her cancer experience as well as her strength and courage. I agree with her that I feel that cancer has made me a better person which is a totally weird thing to say. I think it has given me permission to be vulnerable, establish boundaries, and take care of myself, as well as find a renewed inner strength. I applaud Mike and Bonnie Lang's efforts for sharing these stories. Great job.

Christina and I


Mike Lang

Cancerversary of My Diagnosis November 19th

Happy Movember!


On November 19th, 2010, I went to a follow-up appointment with my GP (general physician) to find out my biopsy (fine needle aspiration) results. She told me the results were not what we had hoped for and that I had papillary thyroid cancer, a disease that I had never heard of. She told me that if there was any cancer to have, this would be the one. She told me that I would need to have a surgery, a total thyroidectomy (TT). This all sounded a bit surreal. I cried a bit and then proceeded to inform my partner and close family members. One chapter of my life had ended (BC- before cancer) and a new one had begun (AD- after diagnosis).


Tony! Toni! Toné! - Anniversary (I miss TTT. When will they make another album?)

On November 19th, 2011, I had my cancerversary. I was not sure if the cancerversary was supposed to be your date of diagnosis or the date that you are deemed "in remission". I decided to look up online and came across a website called Shop Cancerversary. They describe a cancerversary as "any day you want to mark your journey through cancer." I decided that November 19th would be my cancerversary since so much changed for me that day in 2010. Maybe as time goes on, other significant dates in my healing journey will become cancerversaries too.

I decided to reach out to my young adult survivor communities to find out how and what do they use to acknowledge their cancerversary. I asked:

Tomorrow, November 19th is my one year cancerversary. (1 year from date of diagnosis.) I'm feeling a bit conflicted. Is this an anniversary to celebrate? Acknowledge? Grieve? Pause for reflective moments of silence? Survivors, how do you acknowledge your cancerversary?


This is what they told me:

- Aknowledge and thank those who have surrounded me. But also do something positive with my day because I can (Meghan)

- I don't celebrate my diagnosis anniversary..but I think its a great idea and a milestone for sure. I do celebrate the day I got discharged from hospital after my surgeries, and I also celebrate the day I finished radiation :) (Nicole)

- I make my husband take me out not necessarily to celebrate but to prove to myself how strong I was to overcome such obstacles! (Heather)

- Why can't it be a time for all of those? For me, there are usually a mixture of these feelings. Its a nostaligic time for sure but also a time for celebration! (Stephanie)

- Mine passed three times and each has had different emotions. October 28th 2009 was so surreal to actually accept that my life was convoluted with medication, side effects and hospital visits. 2010 was full of resentment and frustration at my whole situation not changing. And finally 2011 was full of pride and gratitude for my entire journey and how far I had come with the decisions I made. To give you an answer would realistically be impossible. How you feel tomorrow will be genuine and something you, us, or anyone else can't fore see. Regardless of what answer you get here, you'll know in your heart tomorrow when you feel it. What ever that feeling may be I'll congratulate you for reaching your mile stone. It is something to acknowledge. (Ray)

- To be honest, I didn't even think about the 1 year mark of diagnosis until you just pointed it out. Once I finished treatment I only thought about the day that I completed treatment and anniversaries of that day. I guess it is a similar idea and usually there are moments of reflection and acknowledgement and I make sure to take the day to do something that makes me happy and helps me remember why I'm so thankful to be here. (Alanna)

- I went from the date of diagnosis. I celebrated with family and friends but also knew that there was still a long road ahead. Small victory til the big one hit - five years! Congrats and as you said it is different for everyone! (Laurie)

- I think we celebrate or reflect on the moments that effected our lives and the changes they brought, be they positive or not. If you have some victory, praise it, some loss, mourn it, some gifts, cherish them, some anxiety, explore it. The dates to you will not be the dates of another, just as our cancers are all different, so are our stories and pivotal moments. Acknowledge the days, moments, achievements you want/need to. And if you need support, we're just a click away (Julie)

- It is so normal to have mixed feelings on your anniversary date! It has been almost 12 years for me and my thoughts are all over the place on that day! One thing I started doing was every year on my cancerversary I write myself a letter. I write down my thoughts, feelings, fears and triumphs and just put them away in a special box. I like to think of it as my own little personal tribute, and in the times I'm really feeling down, I break one out and am reminded of my own strength and the things I've made it through before!! I should also add that I usually try to treat myself to a facial, take my self out to lunch, buy a new CD and hold my own dance party!! (Julie)

- For a few years, on the evening of my follow-up test, I would organize a Butterfly Soiree. Everyone was encouraged to wear purple and bring chocolate and we had live music and celebrated. One year we accidentally also had a fire, but turned out the fire chief was also a cancer survivor so he came in and got some photos with us after the fire was under control! Of course! And just to put it in context. I didn't start soiree-ing for years. I got diagnosed right before Christmas and actually spent the first few years of my cancerversary on that horrible low-iodine diet (prepping for annual follow-up) while everyone munched on delicious holiday food. Needless to say, I was pretty bummed. You're awesome at being aware of your feelings and accepting wherever you're at, which I really admire. Just wanted to throw it out there that the desire to celebrate the cancerversary will probably just happen naturally over time. When I organized my first one, it was on the same night of the day I got my follow-up results and I was so worried that I would get bad news and then have to deal with a bunch of people at my house. But I invited only people I really cared about and figured if I had a recurrence, they would be the perfect source of comfort (and chocolate). : ) (Shali)

- A day to mark however feels most appropriate to you. (Tal)

- I usually forget it. And there's really no single date to mark it -- there's the day I found out something was wrong and it was probably really bad, the day I found out that is almost definitely ovarian cancer, and the day two months later when I had surgery and found out it WAS cancer. Then there was my recurrence, which adds it's own list of dates. I generally don't acknowledge these days because I really don't want to think of cancer as being this super significant part of my life. It's all part of a continuum and shouldn't be marked as more important or worthy of remembering than other days in my life. On the other hand, I am not someone who places much value on anniversaries in general. This may not describe you. I have to agree with Tal, mark it however feels most appropriate and true to you and the significance you place on this experience/day. (Alicia)

- my canceriversary was November 11th (remembrance day, how crazy is that!) I didn't have a lot of time to acknowledge it on the day of, but I'm planning to celebrate this weekend at Breast Fest! For me, this past year has certainly been a challenge, but I've definitely grown and learned a lot as well. Getting through treatment was also a tremendous milestone for me, so I'm happy to celebrate that! good luck! (Linda)

- grieve, reflective moments of silence part of mine falls on my birthday and I know longer celebrate that. its not a day i feel like partying but rather taking stock of my journey, where its led me and where i still have to go (Josh)

- Hi all. I have been conflicted over the years, and this year, my five year, I have celebrated my surgery date (went out with friends), diagnosis date (got myself something to commemorate - a purse from the trip to Ottawa ), and my end of chemo date (got myself a spa gift certificate that I am using today; will be going out for meals with friends; speaking at the Cancer Community Forum; as well as beginning a new endeavor as Section Editor for an oncology website). Every year I also feel survivor guilt. There's such mix of things I would have to echo everyone's statement here. How did it go? (Jen)

So how did it go? I had not had a clear sense of what I was going to feel on November 19th before it started. I actually took my eleven year old car to get serviced. Unfortunately, $ 345 repair later (plus more roters that need to be replaced), I asked myself, "What am I doing at the garage on this day of all days?" I decided to meet up with some young adult cancer survivors for tea and conversation after the Young Adult panel at Breast Fest, an annual film festival organized by Rethink Breast Cancer. After this gathering, I think all of my emotions hit me at once. I was supposed to meet some of my friends for dinner but the details got mixed up along with my feelings. I started crying... a lot. I couldn't stop. I decided it was time to go home. Thankfully, when my friends got the sense that I was quite upset (and incoherent), they announced that they were coming over. I tried to protest, I didn't want to trouble them but being the good friends they are, they came over.







I tried to explain why I felt the way I did. It was nothing and everything. I felt like I was grieving but what was I grieving for? I am alive. I survived cancer. I emerged from the battle with scars to show for it. I should have been celebrating, right? No. I didn't feel like celebrating and I was quite puzzled by that.

I'm not your Superwoman.

Karyn White - Superwoman (Whatever happened to Karyn White? I loved her songs.)

The closest way I can come to explaining my feelings is to describe that I am grieving. When people grieve and mourn, it is typically because they lost someone or something near and dear to them. For me, it was my youthful ignorance (of living forever) but most importantly it was the Superwoman in whom I invested so much of my personality. I saw myself as the fearsome, pioneering warrior with a tenacious, ambitious spirit. I stretched myself to the limit and as one friend put it, I accomplished more before the age of thirty than most people do in their whole lives. If I had to go weeks on end, depriving myself of sleep and self-care in order to accomplish a task, I considered it done! There was very little that I limited myself to. I did it all. Even today, I look back in awe wondering how I managed to found and run a nationally touring film festival (6151 miles or 3822 kilometres from each Canadian coast) while attending teacher's college and graduate school and maintain a long distance relationship. Or teach at a new highly demanding school while being a patient advocate for a family member and taking courses at night. Or while I was in high school, be an honour roll student while being involved with several extra-curricular activities (band, newspaper, student council, etc.) at school and Classical and jazz music studies outside of school. Or get three university degrees including a Master's by the age of 27. Living this way was my normal and it isn't any more.

I cried because I realized that cancer has changed me physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

My energy level since my surgery has not returned to what it used to be and I require daily naps to function normally. I also have to organize my day with less on my to-do list and a lot more downtime. I returned to teaching in September this year after eight months off but after much contemplation, reflection, and medical visits, I made the difficult decision to teach part-time. From a financial standpoint, this decision is insane since it means cutting my salary in half. From a health and well-being perspective, the decision makes total sense.

Another change for me has been my perspective on life and time. I wish to "make the rest of my life, the best of my life" (I am not sure who said that). So my priorities have shifted in ways I have not foreseen. My self-care has taken centre stage along with my writing so other things have had to "give way" and allow room for these factors. The result is a more balanced and authentic way of living but the change ain't easy. Nevertheless, I have an excellent support system and I have increasingly relied on my faith. Plus, I am excited at the cool opportunities, people, and possibilities that keep emerging. I am learning to "let go and let God".

So I am trying to embrace the new Blue Butterfly AD and it is taking time. I thank all of the survivors who shared and continue to share their wisdom, love, kind words, resources, and listening ears along the journey. I am not alone.

Funky Sexy Manifesto #11 Attend the YACC Survivors' Conference

One of my survivors' resolutions was to attend the Young Adult Cancer Canada (YACC) Survivors' Conference 2011 held in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada this year from November 3rd to 7th. After attending the YACC Retreat Yourself East in Newfoundland this year, I knew immediately how much I wished to attend. The retreat was so healing and such a growth experience for me, I knew how much I wished to attend the conference. I also know a lot of my fellow cancer warriors did as well. Out of the 14 of us who attended the East retreat as participants, 7 of us attended the conference. This number does not include the supporters, staff, and facilitators who were at both the retreat and the conference. It was a YACC Reunion of sorts. Also, I had done some active fundraising for this event. The weekend prior, I organized a vegan bake sale (Funky Sexy Manifesto #36) which raised over $ 200 for the Climb, a 5 kilometre trek up to Parliament Hill. The proceeds help to cover travel costs for young adults all across Canada to attend YACC events.

I must admit that when I arrived I was a bit stressed out of my mind. It was report card time and I felt sleep deprived and a bit "off". (I've been going through a difficult transition and decision making process.) During the conference, I also had some weird stomach issues which I could only chalk up to anxiety and eating too many desserts that weekend. Nevertheless, I am so glad that I attended the conference. The conference consisted of a series of feature presentations, workshops, small group check-in/check-outs, social events, and the Climb. I truly appreciated the very relaxing yoga session which helped me to become more present and mindful in my body. The opening night mixer and the closing night dance were awesome. I was soooooo ready to shake my booty on the dance floor. I requested Work It! by Missy Elliott which was the song I woke up with in my head that morning. (Don't you love the high production value of Missy videos.)


I also appreciated the very inspirational talk by Geoff Eaton, the founder of Young Adult Cancer Canada (formerly known as Real Time Cancer), and his personal experience with recovering from leukemia in 1998 and his relapse a year later. Geoff left me with plenty of wisdom nuggets. He said that 1% is not 0% which were basically the odds he was given for survival. So he beat the odds. Also he said that remission is not healing. The way I take this to mean is since I am technically still in remission, I need to realize that I am still on the healing journey. I believe for thyroid cancer to be called technically "healed" is five years of remission. So Geoff's statement reminds me to be gentle with the demands that I put on my body, schedule, and energy. Lastly, he states that you need to make ample time for living and healing. To read about Geoff's amazing story, click here.

YACC founder Geoff Eaton, man can he dance


I also appreciated the guest speaker and workshop about Brain Fog by Dr. Heather Palmer, a researcher who talked about cognitive strategies to overcome this situation. I did not think I would benefit from her talk because I did not think I was a candidate for brain fog yet when I heard her describe the symptoms, I realized that many reflected my own current experience-- feeling of being in a fog and overwhelmed and difficulty with multitasking.

Here is a copy of my facebook status summary of the four days. I have also included the photos I took. You will notice some food photos. Well, this wouldn't be a healing journey/wellness/food blog without the vegan food that I had in Ottawa over the weekend which ranked pretty good.

Day 1 November 3, 2011
What a morning! Slept in 80 minutes (through my alarm), went all the way down to Union and still missed my train to the YACC Survivor's conference. Have to catch the next one. Came back home for breakfast. 48 views away from 25, 000 on my blog. Sipping my green tea. Really in need of a nap right now.

(By the way, I managed to exchange my ticket for a later train. I narrowly caught that train by 5 minutes due to a subway delay during rush hour. Ugh!)

Yay, my Blue Butterfly blog has had 25, 003 views as of 11:16am and I'm finding out while on a train halfway between Toronto and Ottawa. Isn't (some) technology wonderful.

Conference vegan food



Day 2 November 4, 2011
Day 2 of the YACC Survivor Conference. Feeling less anxious and tired and more invigorated and excited. So much to learn and to share.






Day 3 November 5, 2011
Day 3 and completed the 5km Climb to Parliament Hill. It's nice to be in Ottawa. I've had some amazing conversations and getting more "food" for the journey. Tossed some pennies into the Centennial Flame fountain and made a wish.




Josh and I having a philosophical talk. I met Josh at YACC Retreat Yourself East. He is a lymphoma survivor and was my resident plant-eater who was in my corner.
























Making a wish before throwing my pennies in the Centennial flame and fountain.





The Ottawa Parliament Buildings at night


Day 4 November 6, 2011
Day 4 of YACC Conference. Finally woke up refreshed and went to the pool. Getting connected with other cancer survivors. Feeling synergy and ideas of great things to come. Tonight we dine and boogie.

The Thy'Ca Posse The only person missing was Shali, a YACC staff member, who also survived thyroid cancer. Here, I am pictured with Kourtney from Edmonton. She had medullary, a rare form of thyroid cancer, which is hereditary and traced by a gene. Being my roomie at the conference, I hope I didn't scare her over the four days.


All decked out in our regalia... Nicole, Julie, and I. We first met at Retreat Yourself East in Newfoundland this year. Nicole is a chordoma survivor who is mature beyond her years and genuine. Read her story here.


Can I get in on the Movember (November awareness for cancer's that affect men) action? If I don't wax, my upper lip, do I qualify? TMI (too much information)?


I am so glad that this restaurant allowed for BYODVC (Bring Your Own Damn Vegan Cheese). No, I'll change that D to Daiya cheese. They made the pizza with my own cheese from home, 5 hours away. I walked back to the hotel to get it from the freezer. No way, I'm going to go to Johnny Farina (Italian restaurant) and not eat cheese, even if I have to bring my own.




Julie and I tore up the floor that night. Julie is a breast cancer survivor who was inspired by my blog to start her own called Silverlups: life thru cancer and other hiccups. You can check it out here. I admire Julie for her creativity, genuineness, and fierceness. She walks to the beat of her own drum and is a great advocate for young breast and other cancer survivors in Nova Scotia.




Day 5 November 7, 2011
I left the YACC conference with an increased acceptance for myself and my circumstances as well as a renewed sense of purpose and what I need to do. Had some lovely company travelling with Bonnie and Julie. Back in Toronto. Nice to be in my own bed. Remission is not healing... Need to make time for living AND healing. Sooo much to think about and ponder. I am grateful for my teachers on this journey.

Bye bye, hotel suite.






I realize how much advocacy is needed for young adult cancer issues especially since this age group (15-39) is the only group not to see an increase of survival rates in 40 years. In addition, Although this year's conference had the most delegates, 80 in all, I know that there are thousands of young adults diagnosed with cancer each year in Canada. In addition, I was the only Black person in attendance which indicates to me that a lot of folks still do not know about YACC. I also realize that YACC is still a very young organization and outreach costs money so this is why I have chosen to use my blog as a space to promote and share information with you my readers.

I also realize how beautiful and genuine each of the survivors I met were in their own way. You never met a room full of such REAL people until you come to a YACC event.

Until the next main event. Bless.