Sunday, July 25, 2010

©Brenda Coffee  All rights reserved.

I’m taking a slight departure from my regular breast cancer blog, because our son is leaving for law school this week. I say “our” son, when in fact he’s my stepson, but my heart doesn’t know that. Last week I was telling someone about Kirk’s leaving, and my eyes filled with tears. My voice caught in the back of my throat, and I had to stop. Other than my relationship with God, few things make me cry and you, dear Kirk, are one of them.

I remember when I first met you: You were 10, bright-eyed, eager and excited about everything and even then, like your Father, family was everything to you. I feel like you have given me far more than I’ve given you, and I thank you. Those years of knowing what’s it’s like to host sleepovers, cheer you on at Little League games and our talks in the kitchen after school... You took me along, with your infectious grin and loving heart, to baseball games and ski slopes and just past “GO” on Park Place.

In no time you started college and then one day, came home and said you’d joined the Army. Like your Grandpa and your Father before you, who volunteered during their wars, we shouldn’t have been too surprised, but it was a scary time for all of us. Even you. Once again America was at war, and all of us were aware that more than likely, you’d find your way to Iraq, Bosnia or Afghanistan. The day you graduated from basic training was an electric moment for us, like my diagnosis of breast cancer. It was real. You were a soldier, and there was no turning back.

Your Company was a hundred strong, and we heard your voices that day before we saw you. “I don’t know, but I’ve been told. My DI’s heart is made of gold.” Your polished boots hit the pavement in unison, keeping time to a singsong cadence repeated by generations of soldiers before you. “Sound off. Sound off. One, two, three, four. Three four.”

Your Mom and Dad and I watched as the top of the American flag crested the hill in the distance. One by one, rows of nearly identical-looking soldiers came into view. Eyes forward, slim caps tilted at the same angle, trench coats buttoned and belted for warmth and freshly creased dress pants, all in the time-honored shade of Army green. The shortest led the march, while rows and rows of soldiers of ever-increasing height magically unfolded out of the cold mist.

I stood on the curb behind your Mom, my hands on her shoulders, as we searched a sea of determined faces chiseled by basic training, lack of sleep, relentless drill sergeants and hand-to-hand combat training. The Army turns pimple-faced youths into killing machines, and they were marching toward us in unison.

It had been three months since we’d seen you, and it was hard for us to control our emotions. Finally, on the outside back row, I saw your silhouette. Later you said you’d picked my shearling coat out of the crowd. The same coat I’d worn when we huddled together in the back of a darkened shuttle bus in Jackson Hole, drinking Baileys Irish Cream from the bottle. Like truant children, we scrunched down low, passing the paper bag back and forth, imagining lurid headlines like “Woman Leads 15-Year-Old Stepson Astray.” Now as you marched over the hill, I felt like I was the child, and you were the adult. My eyes filled with tears, and I whispered in your Mother’s ear, “He looks like a man.” Your eyes caught mine and for a moment, I thought you might cry, too.

Yes, you went to Bosnia and Afghanistan, serving with a multi-national Special Forces unit, but God brought you home safely. You are still bright-eyed, eager and excited about everything, and still value family, God and country. Those are the qualities I love about you, and they are the qualities that will see you through law school and all the days of your life. I love you, sweet man, and rejoice at the man you have become. I’m so proud of you.



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Sunday, July 18, 2010

©Brenda Coffee  All rights reserved.

When I was in my early twenties, I visited New York City for the first time and found myself in front of the famed Plaza Hotel, home to Eloise, the fictional 6-year-old girl who lived at The Plaza and who drove both employees and celebrated guests crazy. As I walked through the lobby, I decided to stop at the Palm Court, where “Afternoon Tea” is a daily tradition.

Seated under an enormous stained-glass ceiling, I sipped tea, dined on cucumber sandwiches and tried not to eavesdrop on Yoko Ono and her friend, while a nearby string quartet played Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert. That day I learned Afternoon Tea is a great way to take time out from our busy schedules, get centered and focus on something other than ourselves. If you’ve had breast cancer and want to prevent recurrence, or prevent breast cancer in the first place, you might consider developing your own tradition of Afternoon Tea. Taking time to connect with yourself, or disconnect, is good for your immune system, plus it strengthens your mind-body connection.

For starters, let talk about what kind of tea to drink and why: Instead of the traditional, Earl Gray, it may be more beneficial to drink green tea, preferably decaffeinated, and organically certified, Chinese green tea. While several studies have shown some of the chemicals in green tea have antioxidant properties that could be a powerful weapon in our fight against breast cancer, other studies are not as conclusive. I don’t know about you, but as long as decaff green tea doesn’t do me any harm, taking time to relax, listen to music, sit back and close my eyes, or read a few chapters in a good book, is a welcome daily practice. Since many of the teas grown in China have been sprayed with unsafe levels of pesticides, organically certified teas are the only way to be sure your tea is safe to drink.

TO MAKE GREAT TEA:
Bring water—the better the water, the better the tea—to a boil in a non-reactive tea kettle. Pre-heat your ceramic or porcelain tea pot, or cup, with some of the boiling water and let stand until the vessel is warm, then pour out the water. Simultaneously, turn off the heat under the tea kettle and let the water cool for 60 seconds before pouring it over the tea. If using tea bags, add one per cup. Some people cover their tea pot or cup with a tea cozy to retain warmth. Let the tea steep for a minute or two, then taste frequently, taking care not to leave the tea bag in too long or your tea may become bitter.

Serve with lemon slices, but skip the milk, clotted cream and substitute honey for sugar. Make your favorite zucchini bread or blueberry muffins. If you don’t eat white flour, try substituting whole-wheat flour, or spelt, along with applesauce or honey for sugar.

As I write this, I’m drinking a new organic, decaff green tea from Whole Foods and thinking about Yoko Ono and her unique, sometimes wacky sense of fashion. That day at the Palm Court, she had on a gentlemen’s Victorian top hat, with a purple veil that wrapped around the crown and dipped down across one side of her face. For those of you who don’t know, or don’t remember, Yoko Ono is an artist, musician and widow of former Beatle, John Lennon. As I sit here, I’m listening to John Lennon’s iconic song, Imagine, and adding a new line of my own:

“Imagine there’s no cancer (sic). It’s easy if you try. You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”

Listen to John Lennon’s voice and imagine… Play song from iLike.com




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Sunday, July 11, 2010

©Brenda Coffee. All rights reserved.

Anyone who pays moderate attention to the news knows there are certain risk factors, like family history, that skyrockets our risk of getting breast cancer and our ability to control it. We also hear about certain “controllable” risk factors; simple changes in our daily lives that could lower our risk of breast cancer or our risk of recurrence. What if one of those changes entailed giving up all dairy products? Did you know that according to the Journal of the American Dietetic Association, over 70% of the world’s population is unable to digest the milk sugar, lactose, after infancy? http://bit.ly/beqodR What if Mother Nature is trying to tell us dairy is not a food we should eat? Milk’s great for baby cows, but what if it’s not good for man?

There’s a lot of information about the suspected link between milk and breast cancer. The science behind this link ranges from hideous stories of puss-filled cow udders, nutritionally perfect for only one purpose—feeding calves—to studies that say milk is the great savior of brittle bones, weak hearts and cancer cells gone wild. Notice I said the “science behind,” because whenever we read about a “study” or a “suspected link,” we need to see who conducted the study, as well as who paid for it.

According to the Los Angeles Times, a recent study done by nutritionist, Connie Weaver, head of food and nutrition at Purdue University, says “anything less than three glasses of milk a day, and you won’t get all of the nutrients you need.” http://bit.ly/b0lii0 While most of her funding comes from the National Institutes of Health, she is also supported by the National Dairy Council. On the other side of the science surrounding milk, PETA and the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine says “cow’s milk is a nutritional nightmare that doesn’t belong in the human diet.” “Gross” and “bizarre” are words they use to describe the human practice of tugging at the udders of slow-moving livestock in order to benefit from the bodily fluids they secrete. Even Dr. Walter Willett, chairman of nutrition at the Harvard School of Public Health says of milk, “the benefits are unclear, and there may be some risk.”

Breast milk, whether it comes from humans or other mammals, contains all of the natural growth factors, hormones, infections, antibiotics, additional drugs, chemicals and pesticides in which mammals come in contact. Some studies say milk causes the body to produce mucus, and cancer feeds on mucus, and therefore, by eliminating dairy products, we starve cancer cells. However, according to breastcancer.org, “a dairy-free diet is not a miracle cure.”

As long as we’re talking about studies, there’s been a lot of hoo-ha about T. Colin Campbell, PhD’s book, The China Study, a massive study of the relationship between diet and disease in over 100 Chinese villages. http://bit.ly/btvUqe The Chinese don’t eat dairy, and their breast cancer rates are very low. Breast cancer is considered the “rich woman’s disease” because only rich women, who can afford to eat a western diet high in red meat and dairy, get breast cancer, but is that really a link between dairy and breast cancer? If you look further into the China Study, only three out of the 65 counties studied consumed any noteworthy amount of dairy. In addition, they weren’t eating the hormone and antibiotic-laden cows we find in most Western cows. This could mean drawing any conclusions from the China Study is a narrow and tricky path to walk.

Since the science is still out on the link between dairy and breast cancer, you must decide this issue for yourself. My oncologist says “everything in moderation, including moderation,” so an occasional dish of ice cream or a great cheese won’t kill you. Personally, I gave up dairy and use almond milk as a milk alternative. Yes, I know, I recently wrote that nobody really knows whether almonds are a good or a bad phytoestrogen food. http://bit.ly/bky79s Trying to map out the “whys” behind the “dos” and “don’ts” surrounding breast cancer is like trying to find your way out of a Harry Potter maze. What do you have in your “Goblet of Fire?” Got dairy?

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Sunday, July 04, 2010


Have you ever noticed sometimes Mother Nature plays cruel tricks on us? You and your spouse take a trip to that romantic island you’ve always wanted to visit only to discover, at the most intimate of moments, you have vaginal dryness and intercourse is painful. You are not alone. Over half of all women over 40 suffer from vaginal dryness, and more than likely, it may be due to lack of estrogen.

Many women experience loss of estrogen well before menopause, others after a hysterectomy. A drop in hormone levels also occurs if you’ve undergone treatment for estrogen-receptor positive (ER+) breast cancer. I can’t think of a single side effect of low estrogen that isn’t just plain rude and frustrating, and trust me… I’ve experienced them all. The one that bothers me most, however, is vaginal dryness. Physicians call it sexual dysfunction, but simply put, it is pain during intercourse due to vaginal dryness. So what do you do? Doctors are not always comfortable discussing this subject, and perhaps you’re shy about asking. Once again, I am your trusty lab rat.

Cosmetics companies are always telling women to “moisturize.” That doesn’t apply just to our face and hands. With age and lack of hormones our vaginal tissues become thin and dry. They no longer “self moisturize,” or lubricate with arousal, and need a little help to keep intercourse from being painful. As a result of intense pain, many women look for ways to avoid sex. That isn’t good for your marriage, or your immune system. A study by endocrinologist, Dr. Winifred Cutler, at Wilkes University in Pennsylvania, showed those who have sex once or twice a week showed 30% higher levels of immunoglobulin A, an antibody which is known to boost the immune system. Fortunately, there are a number of products on the market to soften and moisten vaginal tissues, but if you’ve had estrogen positive breast cancer, none of them may be the perfect solution.

While most of the following suggestions take a few weeks to see results, they are well worth the wait. Start by drinking eight large glasses of water a day followed by eating a balanced, healthy diet. Many women who eat a low-fat, high-carb diet don’t get the nutrients needed to make enough estrogen for vaginal lubrication. If, however, your breast cancer was estrogen positive, you want to avoid foods containing phytoestrogens like soy and flax.

For some women, Vitamin E oil works relatively well and for others, personal lubricants bring immediate relief. I have tried them all and Replens Long-Lasting Vaginal Moisturizer Applicators, Replens Long-Lasting Liquid and Wet Naturals Barely Bare (there are many Wet Naturals, but use only Barely Bare) work best for me. All are water-based, which means the products are not sticky and gooey, and are paraben and estrogen free, which is important for me to avoid since my breast cancer was estrogen positive. Our bodies turn parabens—methylparaben, ethylparaben, propylparaben and butylparaben—into estrogen. Start reading labels and avoid products containing parabens. Some personal lubricants, like K-Y and Vaseline may be your tried and true favorites, but can cause unwanted friction, which can lead to more pain. Replens applicators and liquid and Wet Naturals Barely Bare may be a little harder to find than other alternatives, but you can purchase them at the RETAIL THERAPY store on BreastCancerSisterhood.com. http://www.breastcancersisterhood.com/retailtherapy.htm

For best results, insert one Replens Long-Lasing Moisturizer Applicator before sex—the earlier the better—in order to give the moisturizer a chance to soften your vaginal tissues. The instructions say the moisture lasts for up to three days, but at that, I was still having painful intercourse. A female gynecologist told me to use a Replens applicator everyday,whether I was having sex or not, to keep the tissues moisturized. Also inserting the applicator at night gives tissues the chance to absorb the moisture without trickling out and wetting your clothes like it does if you insert one in the morning.

While the right lubricant does makes a difference, intercourse may still be painful. If this is the case you might want to pour, yes, I said pour, the lubricant directly into your vagina. Do not be shy about adding more as you go along, and make sure your partner stays well lubricated as well. If you find intercourse is still painful, certain sexual positions are better than others. Experiment.

Regular sexual activity has been shown to improve vaginal atrophy by stimulating blood flow to the area. If you have vaginal dryness and haven’t had estrogen positive breast cancer, ask your doctor about low-dose vaginal estrogen tablets, the vaginal ring or the cream. Also, there has been a lot of talk in the last few years about bioidentical hormones, but that is a lengthy discussion for another day. Bottom line, since my breast cancer was estrogen positive, I don’t want to ingest, rub or look at ANY form of estrogen.



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Sunday, June 27, 2010

©Brenda Coffee. All rights reserved.

When I was 21, my late husband told me, “This is my train, and you’re welcome to ride it.  If at anytime you don’t like the destination, you’re free to get off, but overall, you won’t find a better ride anywhere.”  As I think back on his statement, I realize it was selfish, egotistical and often ignored what was in my best interest.  If I’d been the tour director, instead of the passenger, we would have traveled a different route.  Although I was offered a choice of stops along the way, the decision to stay on board, or get off, was always mine. 

 

Much of the time we traveled the world in search of places where no one spoke English, you couldn’t get a cheeseburger, and a room for the night was a hammock with a skinned squirrel overhead that dripped blood onto our foreheads.  He was a natural born teacher, and I was his Eliza Doolittle, encouraged to become a mixture of Barbarella, Margaret Thatcher and Sally Ride.  In many ways, that journey has served me well, plus I’ve realized he was right, and wrong, about a great many things.

 

Recently I was interviewed by a young reporter, and one of her questions was what advice would I give to my 21-year-old self?  Thinking about that young woman, who was often a passenger on someone else’s train, my answers were “don’t be afraid to say no,” “listen to your little voice,” “don’t be afraid to try something new,” and “what are you waiting for?”  I believe those are sage words of wisdom, regardless of our age, but particularly if we hear a clock ticking somewhere in the back of our mind. 

 

Everyone’s clock is driven by different things: money, ego, God, age, love, sex, health, and ultimately, death.  What if, when we’re nearing the end of our lives, we realize we’ve spent our time worrying about the wrong things and missed all that was right about our lives?  What if we’ve spent our time worrying about when, and if, breast cancer will return?  Isn’t that focusing on dying instead of living, and if that is true, then we’re not really living.  We’re simply marking time like a prisoner in a cell; only our cell is a self-imposed prison.  The question then becomes, how do we get off the train we’re on and change destinations, or change our way of thinking and acting so it becomes an acceptable destination?  Better yet, what happens to us, to those who love us, if we don’t do anything but stay on the same train that's already departed?

 

One thing I’ve learned from life is we should all be conductors of our own train.  While our decision to stay, or get off, should also be determined by what’s in the best interest of those around us, and not just ourselves, we should still “listen to our little voice,” “don’t be afraid to try new things, and don’t be afraid to say no.”  That brings us to the only other piece of advice I would give my younger self.  “What are you waiting for?”

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Sunday, June 20, 2010

©Brenda Coffee. All rights reserved.

If you’ve ever gone through chemo and/or radiation, you know you barely have enough energy to breathe, let alone get out much or take a vacation. I marvel at cancer patients who continue to work while going through treatment. You are my heroes! I realize many of you have no choice, but where do you find the strength? I know paying the rent is a huge motivating factor, but for me, just going to the grocery store was more than I could handle. Now that I’ve recovered from 10 surgeries and eight rounds of chemo, James and I are traveling a bit more, but on this trip, I’ve decided I don’t get out enough.

Once again we’re in Las Vegas while James plays in the World Series of Poker, and I stay in the room and work on my laptop. Mind you, that’s not a complaint. Since I’m not much of a shopper, I don’t gamble, and it’s beastly hot outside, I’m quite content to occasionally go downstairs and people watch as I walk through the Esplanade, the shopping arcade that connects the Wynn and the Encore hotels. Also, last night I went to a Sting concert at the MGM Grand.

While Las Vegas has always been an adult Disney land, the adults seem to be getting younger—or maybe I’m just getting older—and their choice of clothes, or lack there of, is rather surprising. Men wear flip flops, shorts and no shirts at all, and women look like they’ve piled out of bed and put on the first thing they found on the closet floor. The real people watching, however, comes when the midnight crowd emerges from their rooms. Young carbon copies, jockeying for entrance to A-list clubs walled off by velvet ropes and burly bodyguards.

This is a different crowd than the ones you see in the daylight. The locals refer to them as the "Vampires." These guys wear jeans, straw fedoras and enough bling to open their own jewelry store. The chippies appear to be drunk and/or high and wear vacuum-packed strapless dresses, which barely cover their butts, and six-inch gladiator shoes in which they can barely walk. The girls are all self-conscious, constantly tugging at their outfits, pulling them up to cover their boobs, pulling them down to cover everything else while the guys treat them like they're steak on a plate. Sometimes I think today's young people are following Britney Spears, Milely Cyrus and the rapper d'jour straight off the edge of the cliff and into their hotel rooms with nary a thought to the consequences.

The world may still be spinning on its axis, but we seem to be going in a direction I don’t understand. Many of those directions are counter intuitive to having a healthy society. Sometimes I think we need better roles models, for males and females of every age, who will forge a more self-respecting path for all of us to emulate. I realize this isn't my typical blog about surviving breast cancer, but perhaps it's because I'm overwhelmed with the razzle dazzle of sin city. It's a lot to take in for a girl who lives in the middle of nowhere.

Like most of you, I’ve had to make a lot of physical and emotional changes and have come to terms with life the way it is, not the way it was, and that’s OK. It’s more than OK. I’m still here, and I’m blessed beyond reason. Like Dorothy, in the Wizard of Oz, I’ve battled my way through terror and enlightenment, and I realize there’s no place like home. While I’m not sure Las Vegas is part of my new normal, I am sure the bleary-eyed guy wearing the “Party Till You’re Homeless” shirt is not.



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Monday, June 14, 2010

©Brenda Coffee. All rights reserved.

My mother used to say “normal is what you think you are, and no one else is.” For each one of us, “normal” changes as we age. Our 16-year-old self is different from our 26 or 46- year-old self. From a visual perspective it’s easy to look at old photos of what we were wearing, or how we did our hair, and approximate our age. However, aging is more than a physical process. We mature mentally and emotionally as well, and with each new chapter of our lives, we redefine what our normal is.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to twirl a baton and be the daughter of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, the King of the Cowboys and the Queen of the West. Every Saturday I was happy to share in their television adventures, marveling at the intelligence of Roy’s horse, Trigger, and the gentleness of Dale’s horse, Buttermilk. By the time I was in my teens, I felt out of place, the only one of my peers who had a mother to take care of at home. I made good grades and fixed dinner, but I was like a mannequin in a store window: head cocked to one side, arms up expectantly, waiting for what, I didn’t know. Normalcy, perhaps.

As the years went by, different window dressers changed my hair and put me in different outfits, but for the most part, I laid naked and in pieces in the storeroom, unable to become a whole person. From time to time, I got dressed and beamed, "fine thank you, and how are you," but my feelings didn’t go any deeper. I was a well-dressed mannequin in a storefront window, wearing pastels in the spring, a summer sundress and then a coordinated sweater set to ward off winter’s chill. All the while, my gaze was fixed, and I had the smile of a one-dimensional doll.

Mannequins do not shed tears or feel exhilarating joy. They have cut off their highs and lows, living somewhere in the middle in their safe storefront window. As I matured, I experienced the death of that hollow woman and reveled in the occasional tears as they streamed down my face and felt the emotional catch in the back of my throat that had never been there before. I stopped caring what others would think if I told them who I was, if I said no, and became a wholly formed three-dimensional woman.

Time and life experiences shape the person we become, and breast cancer is one of those experiences. The person who emerges on the other side is admittedly a different person than the one who began this breast cancer journey. When we look back on these different versions of ourselves, we see that “normal” is a relative thing. It is who we are and how we handle now that matters most. To assume we will go back to “normal” when we’re finished with breast cancer treatment is unrealistic.

Yes, there may be things about this time in our lives we’re not crazy about: I wish my body was full of estrogen, my libido was what it used to be, and my facial muscles didn’t look like they’d melted in the noon day’s sun, but like it or not, this is my new normal. I can’t mourn for my former self any more than I mourn for my six-year-old self. I have grown and changed as a result of breast cancer. More importantly, I’m still here to live my life. So when my husband says, “Don’t you remember? We talked about that the other day,” I just smile and say, “Chemo brain, Honey Bunny. It’s part of my new normal.”



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Monday, June 07, 2010

©Brenda Coffee. All rights reserved

Did you know moderate amounts of dark chocolate might play a role in preventing cancer? According to Sally Scroggs, MS, RD, LD at the University of Texas MD Anderson’s Cancer Prevention Center, compounds found in chocolate act as antioxidants and have been shown to help combat cell damage that can lead to tumor growth. One of the most concentrated natural sources of these antioxidants is found in the cacao bean—the basis for all chocolate.

Dark chocolate, at least 70% pure cacao, is not only rich in antioxidants; it lowers blood sugar, blood pressure and cholesterol and is an excellent source of potassium and magnesium. Dark chocolate has also been shown to work as an antidepressant: Phyenylethylamine, a compound in cacao, raises serotonin and dopamine levels, stimulates the nervous system and even raises libido.

For centuries healers have used cacao to cure everything from tuberculosis to shortness of breath, and cacao has long been considered a symbol for love and temptation. The great Aztec ruler, Montezuma, regularly used cacao beans as currency. In 1528, when Spanish explorer Cortez left Mexico for Spain, he took with him copious amounts of gold, silver and cacao, in addition to the recipe for hot cocoa.

Because it’s still a calorie-dense food that can be high in fat, we shouldn’t give ourselves permission to eat as much dark chocolate as we want. However a daily square, or one ounce, of dark cacao chocolate may be a good addition to our diet. Savor it. Let it melt in your mouth and think about what you’re eating. If you’re a breast cancer survivor, consider avoiding most of your favorite name brands even if they “support breast cancer awareness.” They’re not only low in cacao—antioxidants—but higher in calories, sugar and unhealthy fats.

Look for chocolate with at least a 70% or higher cacao content. Since 70% cacao doesn’t contain sugar and milk, like most traditional chocolate bars, dark cacao chocolate may take a bit of getting used to, but if you’re like me, you’ll soon find it decadently delicious. My favorite brand is Alter Eco Fair Trade’s™ 85% dark chocolate. It’s organic, gluten free, soy free, has no emulsifiers and can be found at many Whole Foods. Since Alter Eco Fair Trade™ buys directly from farming families in Bolivia, and pays them fair prices, we are also supporting a better way of life for them and their communities.

Did I tell you James prefers brown and white foods: steak, coffee, vanilla ice cream and chocolate? The most surprising thing about James and chocolate…? He loves the 73% cacao! I know! Mister slice and bake chocolate chip cookie man loves dark cacao, although I don’t think he heard me a little while ago when I said it was full of caffeine. It’s 8pm, and he’s had two squares of dark chocolate. Whoa… Zip, zip… There he goes, out the door for a walk. Wonder where all that energy came from? Duh! Hope he gets to sleep tonight.




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Sunday, May 30, 2010

©Brenda Coffee. All rights reserved.

If there had been a 12-step program for peanut butter a few years ago, I would’ve found a meeting, plopped myself down in the front row and said, “Hi. My name is Brenda, and I am a peanut butter-aholic.” My habit was so bad, my husband and son would buy their own jars and hide them from me because I blew through at least one large jar a week. No pretense of a sandwich for me. I ate it spoon after spoon, straight from the jar while standing at the kitchen counter.

After my breast cancer diagnosis I consulted a nutritionist and learned about the various sources of protein and decided there was a chance I wasn’t a peanut butter-aholic after all. My copious consumption of peanut butter could have been my body’s way of screaming for more protein. My shame was lifted! I also learned peanuts were high on the list of foods containing phytoestrogens and were not a good idea if I wanted to lower my risk of recurrence. Because phytoestrogens are thought to bind to the estrogen receptors in our body, and because my breast cancer was fueled by estrogen, I went cold turkey on peanut butter and am proud to say I haven’t had a spoonful since. I have, however, discovered raw almond butter.

Unlike peanut butter, raw almond butter contains no added ingredients or preservatives and has less hydrogenated oils, plus no salt or sugar. Almond butter is full of monounsaturated fats, which are good for your heart and helps control blood sugar, plus it has more calcium, iron and Vitamin E than peanut butter. As my “Type A” self is inclined to do, I took this discovery one step further and became a connoisseur who decided the best raw almond butter was from England and could only be purchased on the Internet. The problem was, by the time I converted English pounds to American dollars, and added tax and shipping, my weekly fix was $30 a jar. A small jar. If that wasn’t bad enough, I recently discovered a terrible new twist to my nut butter saga.

Some phytoestrogenic foods may actually be protective by binding to our estrogen receptors, thus blocking estrogen, which sounds like a good thing, but nobody really knows which ones are the good phytoestrogen foods and which are the bad. Oh, but wait… The plot thickens. Some experts suggest almonds may be as bad for me as peanuts. That may, or may not mean they are on the list of bad phytoestrogen foods, but not knowing, once again, I have gone cold turkey on a beloved nut butter.

Addictions are tricky things: You start small, just a spoon or two, then before you know it, you’ve consumed a whole jar in less than a week. Where will it stop? Will I move on to more addicting things, and what might they be? Is this how addicts become thieves, selling stolen merchandise to supplement their cravings? Sometimes I long for the little girl who ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Campbell’s bean soup while she read Nancy Drew. I’m really glad she didn’t know about peanut butter-aholics and phytoestrogens.



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Sunday, May 23, 2010

©Survivorship Media Network, LLC.  All rights reserved.

Many of you are just beginning your cancer journey and are feeling scared and alone, wondering if there’s anyone else out there who knows how you’re feeling. I do. I vividly remember not being able to think about anything else, wondering if I would be here next year, or the year after that. I was terrified, panic-stricken and depressed.

I remember cowering in my car in PetSmart’s parking lot, crying hysterically, unable to pull myself together to go in and buy dog food, or get on the highway and drive home. I was desperate to the point of wondering if the lady coming out of PetSmart had any experience with cancer and could empathize with me, maybe put her arms around me and tell me everything would be alright. I watched her get in her car and drive away. She seemed so carefree... so normal, and I couldn't remember a time when I didn't have this out of control desperation like the sky was falling, and it would miss everyone but me. While I can’t take away your fears, I can give you hope by telling you I am now at a great place in my life. Whenever I say cancer was a gift, and I’ve heard other survivors say the same thing, my husband looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but it’s true.

Tara Parker-Pope, Well blogs writer for the NYTimes.com, has been collecting cancer survivor stories. I have spent the morning reading their words and have come to the conclusion that for the most part, cancer survivors have two things in common: gratitude and a new found zest for life. Here are some of the common words and phrases I’ve pulled from over 600 stories.

• Life is now a combination of brilliance and gratitude.
• The gift of cancer has changed my life.
• I now look at life through grateful eyes.
• Calmer and filled with more purpose.
• Life is not the same; it’s so much better.
• Cancer’s brought out the best in me and my family.
• I am more myself.
• I look at my family with added perspective.
• I am no longer afraid of death and dying.
• The darkest and scariest time of my life turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
• I love my life!

Cancer is terrifying, but it is also life changing. I’m not saying any of us would have deliberately chosen cancer, but as an instinctual coping mechanism, we have dug deep in search of our strengths and found the gifts cancer has brought us. You are at a crossroads, and many of the changes you incur and the roads you take are a choice. Choose wisely, dear ones, and “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; and in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

 

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