You don't get to be Howard Stern's airtime sidekick for 30 years by being a weenie. Good thing. Since the release of "The Vegucation of Robin," "I've been mocked across the board," says Quivers. "But I felt really, really good."
Medical genomics are changing the way we bring precision medicine to our patients. Women need to be aware of this technology to support their breast cancer treatment decisions so they can not only extend their life, but also retain their wellness.
The very idea makes me want do an about-face and stop the whole thing. But Tarceva is the best bullet I have to prevent my cancer from spreading, so of course I will put on a brave face, keep calm and carry on. I have skin in this game.
Waiting for each hair to go was like death by a thousand cuts. So on the fifth day of the exodus my husband Harlan got the buzzer and the razor, and I was G.I. Jen. Up to this point I hadn't felt like a sick person. Now I looked in the mirror and saw Cancer Girl.
In the first weeks of treatment, I had few side effects apart from fatigue. I thought perhaps I had dodged a bullet and would skate through without much discomfort. It would be clear in the coming weeks just what a tough battle this would be, and the best weight for me was my fighting weight.
I don't care if my hair grows back in 50 shades of gray. I might throw a cap on if my head gets cold, but no precarious headgear for me. Life is too short to worry about your hair blowing away in the wind.
He's not into me, or at least not yet. I'm totally into him, at least for now. "I'm damaged. But u are amazing," he texts. Saying "I'm damaged," to somebody with cancer is like saying, "Nobody sees me," to a blind person.
After my fourth round of chemotherapy, I went into what I now refer to as "The Funk Zone." What helped me the most was my ability to put on my nurse's cap (being a nurse was definitely a Silver Lining during my treatment) and assign myself some healthy coping mechanisms.
That phrase broke through the heavy curtain of my grief. Don't go to the funeral today. It even let a little sunshine in. He was right. Unlike a sudden death, we have more time to live together. We have each day.
"I discussed your desire to swim the Channel with the doctors on the tumor review board, and I'm sorry, but no one believes that you will be able to do it. The fatigue from the chemo will be too great." I looked at my husband and thought they don't know me.
Twenty-seven years have passed, and I'm still enjoying the miracle of being alive every day. I contribute it to a healthier lifestyle and organizing my priorities in life. I learned that accumulating possessions at our health expense are only useless.
If the logistics of preparing for chemo weren't enough, you also have to deal with other people. There's a strange indigenous dance people do... it's a frown-face-hug dance. Have you heard Gangnam style? Do those dances instead.
Why am I telling this story for what feels like the 100th time? Because I think it is important to recognize that I am just like you. I am not a hero. I am not particularly brave. If I could get through what I got through, then anyone can get through anything.
What one may not so easily anticipate as cancer is the proverbial axe falling on a loved one instead, while you stand helplessly by wishing it could be you, but knowing full well that you do not get to make that choice.