Beating Our Parents

Beating our parents...Not beating as in pummeling, but passing our parent's time lines in the race of life. That's what I want to talk about.

We all wonder about when our number will be called. If we manage to avoid being road kill or involved in other untimely accidents that take our life, then how do we gauge how long we might expect to live?

By looking at our family history. The "crystal ball of probability" I call it. Unfortunately for me, my paternal grandparents were road kill in their early 50's, my maternal grandfather was shot in the war at a very young age and my maternal grandmother smoked her way to lung cancer.

When Dad turned 60-ish, things began to happen with himself and his six siblings. Heart valve issues from plaque, high lipid concerns, almost everyone had to have a bypass or two. Then in his seventies, his sister died of bowel cancer.

After Mom died from pancreatic cancer, I wondered about my having told my physician that no, cancer did not run in my family. It wasn't hereditary. But as I've learned, wait long enough and almost everyone will better their chance at getting their cancer lottery ticket called.

For me, this means that the system of comparing our life length with that of our parents is no longer a safe gauge.

Fifty percent of the people getting cancers today could not have prevented them, meaning a good portion are  hereditary. Some families have long lineages of heart disease or cancer and so early detection and proper preventative measures should be taken without question.

 But the other  50%  need to understand that getting cancer is now more about lifestyle and what goes on and in your body. Don't think because cancer does not run in your family that you will avoid  it. The toxins we apply between beauty products, cleaning products and sun tan booths, the air pollutants, the cigarette smoke. Additives in packaged foods mixed with high acidic red meat, sodas, too much alcohol, not enough good clean water: all these things accumulate your cancer lottery tickets until one day you discover the reason you have been so abysmally tired is due to a cancer growing inside of you.

I don't want that to happen to me again. After understanding that my breast cancer was highly avoidable had I drank more water and less wine, eaten more fish and chicken instead of red meat, taken up yoga for my stress, eaten more natural sweeteners than refined sugars, then I could have given my body a better fighting chance to battle the cancer when it started to take off with my life.

Thankfully, donations towards cancer research enabled the medical profession to discover the micro metastasis already detached from my breast tumor, heading off to infiltrate more of me. That had not been possible as early as one year prior to that find. So count me doubly fortunate.

But will YOU be so fortunate? Why take chances in a lottery that is guaranteed to reduce your length of stay on the top side of the grass?

Because Mom died of pancreatic cancer, something I still do not consider "herditary" in our family but a by-product of the canned soup, packaged sauce and meal era, I am trying hard to buy better all-natural products, drink no more than a couple of alcoholic drinks a MONTH, cut out the crap as much as possible (and still enjoy my life!), exercise more, use my aromatherapy stress-buster, eat more kale and drink more water, just so that I can still BEAT her 73 years.

 My goal is 75. That might seem young, but given my toxic overload through CT Scans, chemotherapy and a penchant for cigarettes and 20-30 drinks a week for years, I figure that's a high bench mark.

Who do you want to beat and what are you doing to make that happen?

Better Choices...

PRESS RELEASE

BETTER CHOICES REDUCE RISK OF CANCER

“It’s a cancer lottery,” says DebiLyn Smith, author of Running From Cancer: a tilted memoir. “The more bad choices you make the more tickets you give yourself. The more tickets, the greater the possibility cancer will tap you on the shoulder and say ‘next’.”

A Northern BC breast cancer survivor for four years now, Smith wrote about her experience as a “ chocolate gorging, wine swilling, exercise wanker” that lost half a breast before experiencing baldness in the “chemo fast-lane”and sticking her tongue out at the large rotating radiating laser head as it passed across her flesh. “I took one for the team so that you don’t have to,” she says. I wrote this book to hit you over the head, with humour and inspiration, but to show you why you want to do EVERYTHING you can to avoid going down this road. Having cancer will change your life. If you are supplying your body with the ammunition it needs to fight back when a cancer cell sparks up, then you have a greater chance of never having to sit across from your doctor and hear those life-changing words, 'you have cancer'.”

According to the Canadian Cancer Society, almost 50 % of cancers can be prevented. (http://www.cancer.ca/en/about-us/for-media/media-releases/national/2014/world-cancer-day-2014/?region=bc) Smith says, “If you are supplying your body with the ammunition it needs to fight back when a cancer cell turns rogue, then you have a greater chance of never having to sit across from your doctor and hear those life-changing words, ‘you have cancer.’”

 “I’m one of the people that closed my eyes and hoped to outrun cancer but cancer ran right over me and flattened me like road kill. I got mad that I went through the ordeal and now want to help others avoid that same fate. It’s time to wake up out there.”

Smith’s book includes tips, recipes and a love story. Her website at www.debilynsmith.com offers more information on cancer prevention and healthy recipes.

Smith will be in Prince George at Ave Maria on 20^th Ave this Friday from 11-5, at Coles Book Store Pine Center Mall from 11-4:30 on Saturday and at the CIBC Run For the Cure on stage at 10 on Sunday. Proceeds from DebiLyn’s book sales are shared with her BV Health Care and Hospital Foundation and the many cancer fundraisers that she attends.

For contact, please use contact@debilynsmith.com

Website www.debilynsmith.com

Slipping Through the Medical Cracks

Not one or two, but half a dozen horror stories surfaced during my tour across BC with my book Running From Cancer: a tilted memoir. The story of someone waiting six months to get an appointment to see the specialist only to discover their paperwork never MADE it to the specialist's office. A phone from the doctor's receptionist makes the discovery and the wait must begin again. Talk about losing your hair... never mind the chemo...I'd pull mine out from the sheer frustration.

How about this one- a 59 year-old super healthy male had tests done in January from his not feeling good with pain in one certain area that was constant. While waiting for news, he turned yellow and lost a pile of weight he could ill afford. He did have an appointment to talk to a surgeon in Vancouver but he  never made it that far. In mid May, a week before his appointment,  he went to the hospital in excruciating pain, which once they got under control, his time ran out. His kidneys shut down. Within days we lost him. This was a man that would have been on the first plane to Mexico to be bombarded by every treatment available, but once the kidneys packed it in, we were told there was nothing to be done. I saw this man a week before he went in hospital. Knowing he was getting worse by the day, he said, "I don't know what to do? Have I a week,a  month, a year to live? I don't know what to think anymore!"
The problem? He had put his entire faith in his doctor's hands. After the family requested a copy of the test results from January, the Doctor admitted he dropped the ball- he never read the test results about the liver cancer. The papers had been filed and never read again until the family requested them. A court case is pending.No shit!

Then there was the lady who was told repeatedly her stomach pain was nothing-, to continue with the antacids. After insisting on more tests,  her wish was granted, albeit postponed a few times in a row. The results then sat on the doctor's desk  for weeks while on his holidays. Upon his return, the lady was in hospital with pain too intense to ever get out again. Time wasted that might  have been invaluable to her family.

How about this: A friend of mine waits over a year to see a specialist, gets the OK for the operation and while on the table, the anesthetist comments on her wait, "You should have complained harder." Really? Is that what we need to do? Become obnoxious whiners? Maybe make things out to be worse than they are to get ahead of the guy behind us? That's not slipping through a medical crack, but it shows you that there ARE serious issues in our medical overload.

Besides being overwhelmed with the baby boomers aging faster than bananas that have been frozen, our doctors are being top-loaded and inundated with a system already overtaxed.

Of course there are fail safes so that these things don't happen BUT, we're dealing with human error here and anything that gets overloaded will start to smoke under pressure.

So what can YOU do to make sure you don't fall into this chasm?

First off, when a doctor orders a test done on you, you have the right to receive a copy of the results. That means, after you have sat before the doctor who explains as best as she/he can in layman terms what it is you have and need, you can take that test copy home with you and have another chance to go over it. Lots of times a doctor will press you to make a decision based on test results while still in their office. Sometimes their opinion of what you should do might NOT be in your best interest. Maybe, say for breast cancer, instead of going through a lumpectomy to remove a small tumour, you might want to see about removing the entire breast instead of facing  a possibility of a recurrence later down the road. For many of us, the thought that cancer may pop up again NEVER leaves your mind. Maybe you want a second opinion on how to handle the situation, possibly non-traditionally through naturalists/herbalists and other trained specialists. I wouldn't recommend that, but some people want to give it a try and it is their right to do so.

Second, know that your health is your responsibility, NOT your physician's. Giving yourself over completely to the care of your doctor is not your best move. You need to work with them, but not totally rely on one of the busiest people you may ever meet. Your doctor is possibly juggling dozens of people's charts, concerns, tests and results every day. See how you can get lost in that?
After seeing a patient, most doctors make notes in the patient's charts. But what if they get distracted, pulled away for a bit of time, maybe they have a crisis at home ... anything can happen.

What am I saying? Look out for yourself and your loved ones. Follow through on test appointments, ask questions about how long before you can expect calls and answers and then mark that on your calendar. Take notes while in a doctor's office. Use the phone and talk to receptionists at specialist's yourself. Find out how backed up a doctor is, if they received your paper work. Do what you need to do, but do NOT just sit there and wait for your doctor to come to your rescue. It may never happen.

And wouldn't that be sad, if you lost your life because of a crack in an over-loaded system. Maybe your name was misspelled or your file was buried in the wrong row. Possibly someone's dog ate it- (worked for me in Grade School)? You going to bet your life that no-one will make a mistake when it becomes your turn?

Guess what- it's only going to get worse! So get over it and get out there and squeak (nicely, please!)if you have to, just do what you can to help prevent slipping into the ever-widening chasm of today's medical world.

Just Like Robin Williams

My heart goes out to Robin William’s family on the recent passing of someone I much admired and related to. With his seemingly manic ups and reportedly lowest of lows, I always figured we were alike:  classic ADHDers. Robin's People magazine obit labeled him with my nickname “whirling dervish” but it was hearing how he had suffered for years from depression that clinched it.

Depression is such a BIG word in so many ways. My experience with it has opened my eyes to many facets of the disorder, because that is what depression is: a DIS-ORDER; something out of the ordinary and in my case (and I suspect in Robin William's) a chemical imbalance in the brain that can swirl emotions and thoughts into a Helter Skelter world where nothing makes sense anymore. 

Depression is not a disease that you catch. It can develop after a devastating or shocking incident like the death of a loved one, a post-partem blue, the loss of health or self-image. For others of us, it is hereditary. My mother was prone to depression and as I unconsciously scratch my wrist into bloodied shreds, I often think of her with the same scabs on her arms, the highs and the lows we followed her through, the whispering about her "bad nerves." My brother committed suicide three years ago: an unfortunate result of abruptly stopping his anti-depression medication. Add to that my breast cancer ordeal through two surgeries, chemo, radiation and reconstruction and you have a recipe for despondency.

Whatever way it comes, depression can be all-consuming and it can take your life.

To the outside world, Robin Williams, comedian/actor, was as large as life. He had everything, or so it seemed. How could a man so FULL of life, turn life down?

Reports state that Robin was a happily married father of three adult children with many blessings that I am sure outweighed any troubles on the outside. A person without this infliction knows that and has that to reach out to when things get too far down. It should be enough to pull you forward.

With depression, you can know that everything in your life is amazing and still be "depressed" or feel abysmally lower than dirt for no apparent reason. Even without the physical symptoms of pain, living can be painful enough for you to want to end it.

 Let me give you some insight into a moment of depression: You are standing on a ledge between life and death with such despair and grief for yourself that the world outside of your own perceived horror is a mere haze standing behind you. At that moment, nothing else matters- not family, loved ones, thoughts of consequences, of the after math if you do leave. You do not think of the future that is still to come with its promise of rich memories, of a possible resolution to the emotional nightmare. All that matters is ending the hurt of it all: silencing the voice in your head that speaks of your worthlessness, inadequacy, of never getting anything right. You beat yourself with any image that proves what your mind tells you of your failings. You flog and writhe and commiserate until you beg for the peace you know must exist somewhere.

When a person gets to that stage, if they are not backed away from the ledge by a rational thought, by someone else recognizing their call to self-destruct, then that person might succeed in ending what might have been alleviated by counselling and medication. 

I stress the words might have.

Anti-depressants can alleviate the imbalance and a person can achieve harmony. But life doesn't always work the way it should.

Drugs and psychotherapy are well touted in their success rate but sometimes good things come with a price. Anti-depressants can also cause depression for some and like all drugs, these pills come with a list of possible side-effects. The ones that worked the best for stabilizing me were also creating havoc with my health in other areas- enough that I had to start weening off of them. This was much more difficult than I thought it would be and as I approached square one I found myself getting weepy again. Unless I am purposefully exercising, I have no energy to start something new. I have lost interest in any on-going projects, of things I used to love to do. And I am experiencing past flare-ups of temper, of unexplainable rages before crashing into the basement of despair again. It's all so unfair- to have glimpsed peacefulness only to have it taken away. Back to the drawing board. Sigh. I will get through this. 

Not everyone does.

I want to help you understand that people who are depressed need help. Professional help. A slap on the back or a reminder that things will seem better tomorrow can sink them further into oblivion. Depressed people can have blocks that prevent them from seeing things rationally. Simply being depressed depresses them further.

If you know someone who suffers from this dilemma, help them to see that they need help. Realizing one has a disorder is half the battle. The other half is seeking aid. If they're not already doing it, they need to be assessed by a health professional who can point that person in the right direction for the next steps.  

If they're a loved one, take the time to tell them what they mean to you or how they have positively impacted on your life. A hug can be an amazing gesture but at the very least, encourage them to reach out for help.

Severely depressed people can be open targets for their own missiles so you should never blame yourself if the missile manages to hit its target. You can only hope that the need to push the button is contained by whatever helps us to remain. For me it's a will to see the future. I honestly want to stay here for my children and their's. My body and mind may be failing me, but my desire to hold and smell and nurture my descendants, and my need to help reduce the world's number of patients facing cancer will hopefully tether me for some time to come.

But sometimes, there are those days. Days when the drag outweighs the buoyancy to stay afloat and you begin to sink.

Unfortunately for his family, no-one was able to save Robin Williams before he drowned, choked to death by a belt around his neck.

May he finally be at peace.

When things are at their worst, it means they can only get better. Ain't no way but "up" from the bottom. Or so I tell myself.

If you are depressed, I strongly urge you to seek professional help. Your local Health Clinic can offer you more information in your area.

DOMINO DECISIONS

He's been telling me for years to stop changing my mind! His voice is usually strained, higher pitched than normal and quite obviously wrought with sincerity and hope that THIS time I will get what he means.

I also have a great friend who spent a few years chastising me every time we got together "but you SAID...and now you're saying this?" until I guess she gave up and realized I would probably change my mind yet again. Who can keep up? Sometimes I can't keep up to the changes I make myself.

I DO try to keep my promises. Those don't change. But if there's a "better way" to do anything, I feel I can and will and should try. I know I SAID I would do it one way, but  after further investigation, or a better understanding , a cheaper price elsewhere, a better day, better weather, (there are 1000+ reasons WHY), I will change my mind, the plan or the thing. Always for "everyone's benefit" I am sure.

For fifty plus years I never figured this a problem, as long as I was considerate enough to notify others. Usually the plan would make it better for EVERYONE concerned. My husband and friends would hopefully one day learn to roll a little faster to keep up with these betterments. Right??

 I finally am starting to see that the answer is actually WRONG!  It took a few events at my daughter's wedding last week to see that quite often one change for the better for me, can dwindle down to one big change to make things worse for someone else.I managed to see it because for once, the plans changed ON ME- by other people and I was left facing the awkwardness of  more than one situation.

It's a bit of a habit in our family- everyone out for what suits him or her best. Let everyone else fend for what's left? Maybe they've been watching me do it for myself all these years and it has finally come back to bite me in the bus I almost had a mutiny on an hour before the wedding. It definitely bit me when the nth hour had a change in the rehearsed seating of the parent's sides.I still don't know why it happened, only that I got to see the awkwardness of my bride's father and step-father trying to get around each other as we stood behind him and not on the other side of Karly. Water under the bridge my bride tells me. So why does it still taste so bitter?

Can I be seeing that by changing something to best suit me, it may not be what best suits the people possibly behind the scenes or someone I had NOT thought about? Or that by taking one choice and not sticking to it, I domino others who make their decision based on mine and then will possibly need to change as well? 

Why is it so hard to decide on something in the first place? Ever order the Orange Tiger ice cream and then immediately wish you'd gone for chocolate mint instead? Happens to me all the time.

Saying that, I can see it's not going to be an over-night change into a one-decision gal. BUT, I am now aware of how bad an attitude that it is: right up there with being selfish, tyrranical, devil-may-care about anyone standing in line behind me. It's sad because I wasn't raised that way. And I spend so much time trying NOT to be like that. I figured I was such a giving, caring person. But it seems I am only like that until it comes down to my own choices.Then I figure it's all about what I want. Or think I want at that moment, reserving the choice to change my mind.

So, I'm going to try and work on it. It's all I can do at this point. Show by example to my family. And for once, I am not going to change my mind  about that or try and change anyone else's mind  about the matter, either.

Gives YOU something to think about, I hope.

WOMEN and WHINE

Right after a recent talk I gave I had a person attending send me an e-mail challenging a fact I had stated. They correctly said if I was to get one fact wrong that it would affect the credibility of my entire presentation. And rightly so. But the question was about the amount of alcohol recommended for women per WEEK.

The writer said they had researched and found that it was one a day.

Well, once again, that person WAS correct as many websites STILL advertise that amount as being safe, especially on American websites.And isn't alcohol, in particular a glass of deep red wine healthy for you?

 Not according to the on-going research done through the Canadian Cancer Society. The CCS figures that one alcoholic drink per day still gives gals a 1.5 chance of getting breast cancer. Yes, a low number, but I've beaten better odds. Alcohol can also lead to liver disease, obesity, alcoholism and heart disease. While alcohol might reduce clogging of the arteries under certain circumstances, it almost always raises blood pressure, causes weight gain and boosts triglyceride levels in the blood, all risk factors for heart disease. Triglycerides are fatty substances than can build up in the liver if the body doesn't break them down properly, and even small amounts of alcohol inhibit the body's processing of triglycerides.

 The final answer?  On the Canadian Cancer Society's website it is recommended that women drink LESS than one alcoholic beverage a day. They suggest 2-3 a week MAX.

So what's a girl to do besides whine about the fact that men can drink up to two a day and not suffer any major threats? Try drinking what your body really wants and needs: A tall glass of good water. Or try my Saudi Champagne life saver- a wine glass of ice almost filled with low sodium soda water and topped by a splash of white grape juice. Or eat a handful of carefully washed purple grapes and get the same heart health benefits, without the threat of cancer standing behind waiting to tap you on the shoulder. It beats whining about your wine intake and after a few less fuzzy mornings, headaches and rising weight scales, maybe you'll come to prefer the alternatives.

References:

 http://health.howstuffworks.com/diseases-conditions/cardiovascular/heart/alcohol-good-for-your-heart1.htm

http://www.cancer.ca/en/prevention-and-screening/live-well/alcohol/?region=on

Bone Density Scan IS for Wimps

Something new everyone. I was sent for a bone density scan last week.
The best news is it didn't hurt! There was no pain, no blood drawn, no contortoning  my limbs into pretzel positions. 

Being sent for a bone density scan can be as easy as going to the salon. Probably easier.

For me, getting to Prince George, a 3.5 hour drive down the highway, for the date I was given was the biggest issue. But here in the mighty north we have a solution called the Northern Health bus, where for the meager price of $10 one way, I was picked up, suitcase in hand, by the driver of a very large bus, complete with total wheel chair accessibility and gaped seating space and washroom, and left to sit back and enjoy someone else's driving down the highway.(www.northernhealth.ca or 1-888-647-4997)

What pleasure! I sat far enough back in the bus to not notice what was happening between the driver and the road. I pulled out my book, snuggled in and lost myself to someone else's world for a bit. A quick stop for another passenger (that made three of us) in Vanderhoof and we continued along, arriving in P.G. well ahead of the estimated four hour journey.

With the bus getting in at 7 pm, I had to overnight to make my appointment the following day at 11 am. This might be an issue with some, but there are hotels/motels in PG that will give you a medical discount for the asking.. And there's always the new Canadian Cancer Society's Kordyban Lodge that will take cancer related guests for $45 a night and non cancer related guests for $55 a night, three meals included.(Call them for info and reservations at 250-562-3535)
I was fortunate to stay with family overnight.

So, refreshed and full from an amazing power shake my sister-in-law  made, I arrived at the University Hospital of Northern BC. A volunteer in a pink jacket pointed upstairs, explaining the X Ray department was that way and down the corridor.
I arrived at the X Ray department and took a number where once called, I was checked-in and handed a form to give up at my next stop which was further down the same hallway.

Because I had a zipper in my pants, I was given a pair of flannel shorts to change into before being ushered into a darkened, small bedroom-sized exam room. I sat on the paper-lined stretcher/bed and answered questions about whether I had abstained from consuming extra calcium tablets before this exam as I'd been told.

I was then weighed and measured for height, an important step as you will soon see.

After lying down on the padded slab, a large cloth-covered box was placed beneath my knees, probably to force my spine further into the slab? A large white curved-headed machine came to life and like a scanner on a printer, it whirred as it moved slowly along the direction of my torso from my knees to my belly button. The head itself was a good foot and a half away from my body. No enclosure like in an MRI or something surrounding you like in a CT scan.
The process was repeated with the box removed and my legs lying flat in a divider to space my legs a certain distance apart. 

Easy, peasie, possibly more so because this was my second bone density scan. I had one two years ago to set "a marker" or a base for doctors to go by while I am on the cancer adjuvant therapy Letrazole. Letrazole is an anti-estrogen pill that can mess with your chances of osteoporosis and should be monitored for this.
I took a minute to discuss what the tech immediately could see from the results on her computer screen. A four cm change in my height kind of shocked me a bit.  I am no longer the 5'7 I have bragged about. I am a shorter 5'6 and change and going down. When did that happen?

When you're about 30-35 the tech told me, you have reached maximum height and you will start to decline (or something like that...I don't quote well). According to emedicinehealth.com, " After age 30, bone resorption slowly begins to exceed new bone formation. This leads to bone loss. Bone loss in women occurs fastest in the first few years after menopause, but bone loss continues into old age. Factors that can contribute to bone loss include having a diet low in calcium, not exercising, smoking, and taking certain medications such as corticosteroids. Corticosteroids are medications prescribed for a wide range of diseases, including arthritis, asthma, inflammatory bowel disease, lupus, and other diseases. Corticosteroids may cause osteoporosis when used chronically.

So when I turned 40 and then 50 there was more to complain about than just memory, hearing and energy loss. I am the Shrinking Woman. Now what would be the positive spin for this?All I can think of is losing my hard earned privilege of riding the bumper cars at the Fall Fair. You have to be taller than the sign to get on!
Positive. Positive. Give me a minute, I'm still thinking...
Nope, maybe YOU can tell me what is positive about getting smaller? Alice in Wonderland found it handy. Surely we can too?