by Joan Lunden
My ultimate goal that first weekend was to set up an environment that would ensure my best success with the impending chemotherapy regimen and all of the much-talked-about crummy side effects.
My oncologist in NYC had told me there were five things that would determine how well I would deal with chemotherapy:
HOW TO BEAT THE CHEMO BLUES
1.Stay physical
2.Eat healthy
3.Get enough sleep and rest
4.Drink enough water
5.Have a strong support system
Hey, if that was the formula, I could do that!
I knew I could stay physical. I had already called Beth Bielat, the fitness trainer I work out with during my summers in Maine; from my point of view, it was business as usual. The only difference was that I made arrangements for her to come to the house every day at eight-forty-five A.M. and, come hell or high water, get me out and get me physical for forty-five minutes.
I also planned to keep the workout sessions that I had always done with Beth and a number of Takajo staff ladies and Maine friends three afternoons a week. With Beth’s support, as long as I had the strength and energy, I would easily stay physical. Jeff had introduced me to Beth in 2005, and I always looked forward to my summers in Maine, when Beth got me into the best shape of my life. She is really much more than a fitness trainer. She is a black belt in karate, a Reiki master, and a LifeBreath facilitator. On days when I wouldn’t be up to power walks or pumping iron, I knew she would still be my spiritual mind/body guide, keeping me positive and emotionally strong.
Now, number two on the list was eating healthy. I had been on the lookout for a nutritionist to work with throughout my battle against the cancer but, most important, during the months when I would be doing chemo treatments. From the moment I’d been diagnosed, I had been reading books on cancer and added several anti-cancer cookbooks to my expansive library. I was also getting emails and calls from a number of nutritionists who were suggesting that I work with them to stay strong and healthy while enduring my chemo sessions. Deciding on a nutritionist was my next task.
Next on the list, number three, was getting enough sleep and rest.
Uh-oh. This one really worried me.
Sleep?
Sleep had always been a problem for me, and I kept hearing rumblings about insomnia as a possible side effect of chemo.
This one concerned me more than any of the others. Sleep had been my nemesis for years, especially when I cohosted GMA. Just knowing I had to be up before dawn made it harder to fall asleep the night before. Well, that and having a bunch of kids awake in the house, listening to music and watching TV and talking to their friends when they should have been doing their homework. I would debate getting out of bed and going to check on them as I lay there desperately trying to nod off, but all that did was keep me awake longer. Thinking back on it still raises my stress level.
However, I was in a peaceful environment in Maine, with the most beautiful views of Long Lake. I would have no children at home for the coming two months and no real distractions; this had started in the past couple of years, when my younger children started going to camp. Having the house to myself was a luxury, and while I adore the energy of my usual lively household, there was no question that the benefits of the solitude would serve my treatment. That meant I could sleep in whenever I wanted (if I could sleep in), and I could nap during the day if I chose to.
Hmm.
Napping.
That was a novel idea.
I wouldn’t be going in to the office, and everyone there would make a conscious effort to keep calls to a minimum. I wouldn’t accept any new work offers for the next several months and had been required to cancel several speeches that I was booked to do because the oncologist didn’t want me on commercial flights when my white blood cell count was low, not to mention the concern about how I would be feeling.
So I couldn’t ask for a more restful environment, and I had lots of books lined up to read.
Given the odds, maybe sleep and rest wouldn’t be so hard after all!
Okay, so that brings us to number four: drinking enough water during chemo. This was one that could prove tricky for me. I was never good at drinking enough water, and now I would need to be even more diligent about it? I remembered the chemo nurse telling me that chemo sometimes made water taste metallic.
Oh, great!
So not only do I need to drink more water, but now it’s going to taste like I just bit into aluminum foil!
Yuck!
I’d have to keep thinking about how to tackle this one, because I knew it was a biggie.
Last on the list but not least important was having a strong support system. Thankfully, I had this one totally covered. I had a great support team in the form of my family and friends. Although my husband would be primarily consumed with running his camps for the next two months, I had no doubt he was there for me emotionally and whenever I needed him by my side. Jamie, Lindsay, and Sarah were making plans to come up to Maine and spend time with me whenever they could be there. And finally, I had Beth, who not only oversaw my fitness and my emotional state but had become a good friend. I felt good about the immediate close-knit support I had around me and knew it would be only bolstered by occasional visits from friends and loved ones.
Once I settled in, I realized that I should have taken my first shot of a white blood cell–boosting medicine the day after I arrived.
Oops.
I needed to get myself on a different schedule than I had been used to in previous summers so I didn’t forget these important things. The injections were supposed to be self-administered.
Wait, really?
They weren’t even like an EpiPen, with which I could just place the tiny thin needle on my leg and then push. These shots had a cap that came off, with a super-long needle that I was supposed to stick in my stomach!
Are you kidding?
That was never going to happen.
Thank goodness I married a guy who had a modern health center, with a doctor and six nurses right on the grounds at all times, all of whom knew how to give shots.
Yes, having nurses right next door for all of those injections would be a luxury that would make this experience a lot less painful and help make my summer go a lot easier!
By my third night in Maine, I noticed I was waking up several times in the middle of the night. I wasn’t sure if it was the start of insomnia from chemo or from drinking eight to ten glasses of water a day. Remember, what goes in . . . must come out.
Despite my lack of sleep, I felt good enough to start my exercise program with Beth. I wanted to jump into the summer like I always did. My mind was focused on staying as normal as I could until normal wasn’t possible. My approach was to keep myself in a mind-set that felt comfortable and familiar. I wasn’t sure how my strength would hold up as I got further into my chemo treatments and the chemicals began to accumulate in my system, so I thought I would plan my workouts as if I were training for “something.”
We began each morning with a half-hour power walk; then we stretched for fifteen minutes to keep my muscles supple and strong. In addition to those morning sessions, I would do my three afternoon sessions with the other ladies around camp. For years I have run this session with Beth around “camp rest hour,” mostly for the wives of my husband’s key employees and a few of the female counselors who are able to join us. It’s something we all look forward to, and I wasn’t ready or willing to give it up unless I absolutely had to. It’s a lot more fun to work out with a lively group of friends, and it inspires all of us to push harder and support one another in our efforts.
Our original intention for the afternoon workouts was to offer something special to the wives of Jeff’s key employees, but it turned out to mean so much more to me. It allowed me to get to know all the terrific women who have accompanied their husbands, summer after summer, for decades. They’ve become extremely loyal friends to Jeff’s dream—to create a communit
y with a fun, active atmosphere, while building a group of fine young men of character to send back home to their parents.
As it turned out, the women were very supportive of me during my summer. Their love and support meant so much and made me feel comfortable at a time when I felt vulnerable. There’s no explaining how grateful that kind of friendship makes you feel. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know these ladies well, and we have bonded into a close-knit community within the Camp Takajo family.
CHAPTER 12
Cancer Ain’t for Sissies
You’re stripped down to near zero, but most people come out the other end feeling more like themselves than ever before.
KYLIE MINOGUE
Singer/songwriter, actress, diagnosed with breast cancer in 2005
Since I had always spent my summers in Maine, it was necessary for my oncologist in New York to make arrangements for me to have the rest of my chemotherapy sessions with Dr. Tracey Weisberg, an oncologist at New England Cancer Specialists. This was a real team effort that required tremendous communication and coordination on my behalf.
Lindsay, who was now seven months pregnant and dragging a little in the hot early-July weather, was visiting. She was up first thing in the morning and ready to go with me to my first session so she could meet my new doctor, too.
We made the forty-five-minute drive to Portland, a drive I’d made hundreds of times but never for something like this. New England Cancer Specialists was located in a medical facility that was lovely. It was a larger, more “general” cancer center. Any angst I had about starting chemo with a new doctor and facility quickly faded when I saw how lovely, warm, and welcoming the staff was.
Lindsay and I spent some time with Dr. Weisberg, going over my case, and I felt completely comfortable with her. I immediately felt that I was in great hands.
Dr. Weisberg wanted to know how I was handling the effects of my chemo and what symptoms I had experienced so far.
By now you know I have a need to appear strong—as if everything is fine even when it’s not. Frankly, I think I need to get over that need. But that’s another story. I have a tendency to avoid highlighting any weird or uncomfortable side effects because that might make me appear—you got it—weak or less strong and less healthy.
Are you seeing a pattern?
I believe this is something a lot of people (especially women) do with their doctors, and it’s antithetical to getting the best care.
NEWS FLASH: Your doctor needs to know what’s bothering you.
I knew in my heart that I needed to be completely honest with this doctor. She wanted to help me, and the only way she could do that was if I was completely candid with her about my symptoms and side effects.
I wasn’t feeling most of the things she inquired about, but I wondered: Was it Pavlovian? Once she mentioned them, would I suddenly begin to feel them because she’d put the thought into my head?
The only weird feeling I was having was my stomach. It was hard to describe. Food was becoming less appealing. Dr. Weisberg reminded me that although I didn’t feel like eating, I needed to. It was important to eat well. I needed to be really careful with my food choices; she warned, “No fast food or pizza in the coming months.” Thankfully, I didn’t even have a taste for that kind of food.
When we finished the visit, we decided my next chemo treatment would be July third, in three days. It would be my third treatment in the twelve-week regimen.
Lindsay and I made the drive back to Portland three days later, and I will admit, I was a bit nervous.
Why?
That damn needle!
Wouldn’t you know it, the first time the oncology nurse tried to find a vein, the first stick wasn’t a good one. It really hurt and left a mammoth bruise. Thank God her second try was successful.
There has to be an easier, less painful way to do this, I thought.
I sat for my three-hour treatment, thinking about the upcoming weekend. My oldest daughter, Jamie, was coming to Maine with her husband, George. We would be celebrating Jamie’s thirty-fourth birthday on July Fourth. Lindsay and her husband, Evan, would also be there, along with Evan’s parents, Louise and Jay. While I was looking forward to celebrating Jamie’s birthday, this was the weekend when my doctors had warned that I would likely lose the remnants of my hair. I imagined what it would be like, bits of my hair coming out as I handed people appetizers.
Cheese ball or hair ball?
That was more than I could conceive, which was why I’d shaved my head preemptively. I knew I had made the right decision. However, in the early weeks, I was still anxious about anyone seeing me bald. And I do mean anyone—including me. Whenever I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt half the time like I was looking at a total stranger. Maybe that’s why it was so difficult to let Jeff see me at first. If I looked that strange and unrecognizable to me, what must I look like to him?
Oddly, it was that same weekend when I walked into the kitchen one morning and remembered as I was greeting Lindsay and Evan that I wasn’t wearing my wig or any other head covering. Instead of panicking or running back to my bedroom, I somehow felt safe sharing my vulnerability—especially with the two of them. Maybe I figured that my daughter would be okay with it, since she was such an integral part of my treatment; and Evan is just the kind of guy you feel comfortable around no matter what. Man, I’m glad Lindsay married him. They acted that morning as if nothing were out of the ordinary, which was probably why it was so easy for me to let it go.
As a result of my chemo treatments, I was waking several times during the night and was pretty much wide-awake by four or five A.M. These quiet still mornings would prove good for journaling, something I committed to doing almost as soon as I received my diagnosis. I wanted to document my journey, if for no other reason than to have a detailed recollection of each day for my doctors. Besides, since I was awake, I wanted to do something positive with my time. I think we are more honest in the early-morning hours, before we have the chance to put up our guard. At the time, I also felt like I was in transition. I was starting to feel a responsibility to support the medicine going into my body. I wanted to rally behind the science and do whatever I could to assist in my recovery. At the same time, I didn’t want to seem like or look like or feel like a cancer patient.
I was so conflicted.
There were days when I forgot I was sick at all, and then there were days when it was impossible to forget.
The weather didn’t offer the picture-perfect sunny blue skies I had wanted for the holiday celebration weekend. In fact, it poured every day. Instead of sunbathing, swimming, and Jet Skiing, everyone hung out inside, doing puzzles, watching movies, and spending time together. As I looked around the house, I felt incredibly happy to see everyone so relaxed.
Plus, I was surrounded by family and friends.
Who could ask for more than that?
Unfortunately, I was also really tired from the chemo, though I didn’t want anyone to know just how exhausted I was. In an effort to hide how bad I was feeling, I excused myself more than a few times, stealing away for a nap here and there.
Lindsay and Jamie wanted to help me prepare food for the group so we could make a big family-style dinner. We all piled in the car, dressed in red, white, and blue gear to head to town for supplies. We were wearing big plastic star-shaped glasses, American-flag shirts, crazy patriotic hats, and Mardi Gras beads, turning a casual trip to the supermarket into a fun rainy-day activity. I’d love to tell you we turned a lot of heads in town that day, but Fourth of July in Naples, Maine, is highly celebrated, and we fit right in!
We made salads, pasta, burgers, corn on the cob, and sliced a large watermelon for dessert. It was perfect. These weekends are the special moments in life, and especially along this journey. I will always cherish those times, because they weren’t about where we were so much as whom we were with. As long as I had my family around me, I knew everything would be okay.
CHAPTER 13
E
at, Pray, Poop
I changed my lifestyle. I have taken what I consider poisonous things out of my life. Out of my food, out of my work, out of my social circle. Out of everything. Because I want a clean, cancer-free life. And I believe I can have that.
MELISSA ETHERIDGE
Singer/songwriter, diagnosed with breast cancer in 2004
During the summers in Maine, except for breakfast, I usually ate most of my meals in the camp dining hall. Frankly, I wouldn’t see much of my husband during the weeks of summer camp if I didn’t join him for camp meals.
Dr. Weisberg cautioned me that I may not feel like eating, but that it was important to remember that food was my medicine now. She said it was one of the major tools in my kit. She warned me to stay away from anything raw, especially sushi or rare meat. There was to be no eating from buffets or salad bars, because of the germs that linger there; my immune system would be compromised. She recommended eating healthy whole grains and, if I liked potatoes, to go for sweet potatoes rather than white potatoes. Carbs were okay as long as I chose good ones—not starchy carbs, which made eating at camp even tougher, because let’s face it, kids eat a lot of starchy carbs.
So while I visited with Jeff at camp meals, I decided I would be better off having my meals at home. One positive thing about cooking for one is that you don’t need to have food around to please anyone else. I could eat exactly what I wanted, when I wanted.
I had been paging through a number of anti-cancer cookbooks that I’d brought, to learn as much as I could about eating right and eating healthy during my chemo treatments. Before I left for Maine, Dr. Oratz gave me a copy of Anticancer: A New Way of Life by David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD. The book is about how Western doctors are learning the importance of food and how some foods feed cancer cells and components of other foods inhibit the growth of cancer cells. Reading books like this taught me that there were foods I should be consuming and others I should be avoiding. That was when I decided to pick up some other books I thought might help me get a better grasp of things. Living with Cancer and The Cancer Diet were two books that included recipes to combat some of the side effects of chemo. There were recipes that would help the sores you might get in your mouth during chemo and some that catered to constipation as well as diarrhea.