Laughter Is Medicine -by Joe

Balances.  Tears seem healthy to me in a cancer patient unless they become self-pity.  Anger also seems healthy, if it's aimed at cancer cells, helping motivate the battle.  You see both at a world reknown treatment facility like Seattle Cancer Care Alliance.  But not much laughter.  We, among others, are working on that in our own little way.

The picture shows Heidi doing a hilarious 'housewife' commercial for her 'favorite' brand of scan dye in the SCCA lobby, the day she got a Bone Scan and a CT Scan shortly after diagnosis.  A couple months later, when I got diagnosed, we started an ongoing routine arguing about who had the prettiest tumor(s).  I remember times we'd read about some food or household item being carcinogenic, and one of us would say "Oh no! We might get cancer!"  I think regarding cancer itself, we both have developed a good 'sense of tumor'.

Even if someone doesn't like joking about cancer, there are plenty of reasons to keep laughing in life after diagnosis.  Funny movies to watch.  Loved ones to tease.  Pets to play with.  Even in the chemotherapy rooms, the excellent, professional staff have great senses of humor available to patients and families that are interested.  SCCA offers a free 'Laughs at lunch' series of comedy films for families & patients.

I saw an interesting research article at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Institute website exploring the potentially healing, strengthening effects of laughter in cancer cases.  One mechanism was the release of the body's natural endorphins.  So when you hear a statistically significant punchline, chuckle!

As always, thanks for the support!

- Joe

The Patient's Spouse - by Heidi

Either of us could have writtten this blog but my experience is more recent - I wanted to be the one to write.

When Joe was re-diagnosed with bladder cancer, after 2 years, I could not believe it. Here was the doctor pointing out all these tumors on the scan. I have been a cancer patient for almost three years. This, the second time I am a cancer spouse, demonstrates to me (again) that being the spouse/partner/caregiver of a loved one with cancer is VERY hard.

You want to wave a magic wand, take away every fear and painful experience....but you cant.

You want to find the magic treatment that will return them (and your life) to the pre-cancer days.....but you cant

You hover, you do for them, you dont talk about difficult subjects, you pretend.......and they feel cut off and like a child.

You don't take care of yourself, you ignore tasks and duties that seem suddenly non-essential. And yet, as they need ot focus on their treatment, suddenly you have MORE things to do, including things that they used to take care of. And you need to learn a whole new world - medicalese, insurance mazes, drugs, specialists upon specialists. It is overwhelming.

To make it worse, people who love you dearly focus on the person who is sick. But you are hurting and struggling too. I remember the first time someone really asked me how I was doing after Joe's cancer returned. I burst into tears. I am so grateful to this day for her love and hugs and prayer in response. I wanted so much to be strong for Joe but if I dont recharge.... I cant.

I've been learning:

• Joe wants me to share my fears and pain and struggles with him, just as I had before his diagnosis. I don't need to be superwoman - just me.
• I need to take care of myself or I cant be a good partner to him
• There are a lot of people professionally able to help. Use them for your medical, legal and financial issues. Ask to talk to a counselor or social worker or chaplain. Ask, ask, ask.
• Ask for help from friends and family and neighbors. They usually want to help but dont know how or what. Ask for specific things that really DO make you feel better. A friend chatted with me while she cleaned my refrigerator.

- Heidi

Welcome To Our Cancer Battle

Hi.

I am Joe. My beloved wife's name is Heidi. We both fight cancer. I am starting this new blog to tell the world what it's like for us, what we're learning and to beg for prayer. It's been quite a rollercoaster ride:

• July 2004 Heidi diagnosed with Stage2b breast cancer - two lumpectomies, radiation and chemo completed by 2005
• May 2008 Heidi diagnosed with Stage4 metastatic breast cancer (spread to bones and lungs) - chemo started
• August 2008 Joe diagnosed with bladder cancer - removed via TURBT
• January 2011 Joe diagnosed with 14 new bladder tumors - removed via TURBT and intravesical chemo started (BCG)

What is it like?
Each diagnosis, each treatment failure is like getting kicked in the gut by a mule. You can't breathe, you can't move, you just can't believe it. In two days I will hear the results of the biopsies from my bladder cancer surgery last week. In three weeks we will find out if Heidi's chemo is still working. Life on the edge, permanently.
Thanks for stopping by!