Cancer Sucks, Part 1

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Breast cancer, any cancer, strikes the fear in the hearts of people when they hear it. I have several friends who were all told at one time or another that they had breast cancer. Fortunately all of them are survivors. If there is one thing I have learned from my time as an oncology nurse and supportive friend, you can never love your friends enough, you never know how or when, but you do know you will never have enough time with them.

Two of my friends have been gracious enough to share their stories with me and you. I know both of these wonderful ladies from my time in the One World by Night gaming organization (old World of Darkness). Ironically, they both played Nosferatu.

First up, Mary-An Tedder of California.

GRP: Tell us a little bit about yourself and your gaming background. 

M-A:    Ah, the dreaded, "tell me about yourself" question... Well, My name is Mary-An, I'm a shy introvert who still wants social interaction and somehow ended up playing an extroverted harpy, among other things.  I love gardening, animals, reading, writing, music, cooking, creating things from silly paper snowflakes to ball gowns... and gaming.  When it isn't too full of drama, anyway.  

     What I like most about gaming is the social interaction and the acting.  For a shy person, that sheet of paper is a safety net, in a way.  It gives you a sense of both freedom and protection, because it's "someone else" that people see.  And then, later, when the paper goes away (as all characters do), the people around you are already people you know, who may or may not have character sheets that you also know.

     I have done RPing of various types for most of my life, but LARP was different.  Something my then-teenage son found that we went to check out, to see if we thought it was something he could do (he wasn't 18 yet).  We ended up making characters and staying, in addition to signing his permission slip.  And it was addictive.

     I am a massage therapist by trade, have been for many years.  My job is not a high-stress one most of the time.  This does not always apply to the rest of my life, though, and I am unfortunately just a bit too empathetic at times for my own good.

     MY cancer was a complete surprise.  I and most of the people around me had been ill with a flu that included swollen lymph nodes, so when I found a swollen node in my armpit, I wasn't surprised.  My partner had one, too, and was recovering, and my symptoms were lessening.  Then it suddenly went from the armpit to my right breast, swollen and warm.  Obviously this was not normal... so I went to the doctor.  She thought the flu had led to mastitis and sent me home with antibiotics.

     We decided to do a mammogram anyway, just to be safe, and the doctor wrote the recommendation in such a way that if needed, an untrasound or something could also be done.  When the mammogram showed a small mass but was inconclusive as to what type (it could have just been swelling or infection), the ultrasound was done.  It, too, proved inconclusive, and the tech asked if I wanted to go ahead and do an untrasound- assisted biopsy.  I agreed.  I still didn't think it would be cancer - after all, I mostly tend to eat very healthy things, I get over illnesses quickly, and all of that, right?

     Meanwhile, my poor partner has been waiting for hours, wondering and worrying that I haven't come back out.  Finally, someone told her that more tests were being done.  At which point, she claims she knew it was cancer, but hoped she was wrong.  Turns out she was right.  The biopsy came back positive for cancer.

     I was 45 years old, and I had breast cancer.  I was... less than thrilled.  This happened in May of 2010.  A lumpectomy was recommended, and I began chemotherapy against my better judgement (I react weirdly to most meds, and chemo meds are something I didn't want to have a freaky reaction to).  There was a great deal of pressure to follow the standard treatment, both from the medical profession and from family.

     Cancer itself wasn't actually that hard to live with - after that first week, there was no swelling, little pain, nothing. Until I started treatment..  That was hard, but only sometimes.  Several days, I couldn't get out of bed because my legs wouldn't work.  It was almost like I had MS.  Other times, I was fine.  I became afraid to make any commitments to anything because I never knew if I would be able to do anything.  My attendance at game (or anywhere) became spotty.

     On the other hand, when I called for a head-shaving and henna party, many of my friends from Game showed up to show their support (and to get henna tats).  I put Heather Pope on the spot, and she ended up doing intricate henna artwork all over my entire head after it was shaved (by my poor, terrified partner).  Actually, I kind of liked the way my head looked bald and covered with henna.

     My Nosferatu had a burned appearance, and most of the princes wanted all Nosferatu to look "presentable", so she tended to wear wigs and other such IC costuming.  Which means that any changes in my appearance from cancer didn't really fit with my Nos's appearance or were covered by her usual costuming.  At least, until I had a mastectomy (the lumpectomy didn't work).  Then, the uneven breasts did sort of fit the character concept.

     On the nights I was able to go to game, I enjoyed the time away from doctors all the more.  I did have to stop being an archon, because I couldn't be available enough of the time for it.  I NEEDED the time away, I needed the interaction that made me come out of myself because otherwise I tended to hermit away or become depressed.  (I swear hermit can be a verb!)  So gaming did help me.  I know I made a lot of people feel awkward, because they didn't know what to say, but they didn't ostracize me or anything (which in my worst moments I was afraid of happening).

     As of my last tests, I was cancer free, but it's time again to get them, and I have been having some symptoms again.  Hopefully those symptoms are only from the nerve damage the surgery caused me and not more cancer.  I am hopeful.  This whole thing is not exactly a battle with cancer, but often a battle with the insurance companies, who often try to get out of paying for expensive treatments, sometimes doctors and technicians (you really have to be your own advocate, or you will be treated like a statistic or a number if you're not careful).

     Here is a link to a song, "The Bald-headed Blues" by Saffire, that sort of fits my idea of this:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNaW6FyiJRI&list=RD029lsKDrL2OmQ     

     Issues that still give me difficulty:  While I was unable to work from surgery recovery (which had a few minor complications that made the recovery take longer than usual), many of my massage clients found other therapists.  After a year of not being able to do massage because it is such a physical job, I had only a few clients left.  A few returned, of course.  So at a time when I needed all the money I could get to try to recoup all the money spent on treatments, I had a lessened income.  

     I suspect this is probably true of most people who don't have mostly sedentary jobs.  I had been told it would be only a few months recovery... until they heard what I did.  Then the time kept extending.  This of course means we got way behind financially, something we are still struggling with.

    A nerve under my arm was cut, leaving me with a large area of numbness under my arm, down my side and down my arm.  It feels heavy, often cold, and a weird tingly-numb semi-swollen sensation all the time that is just strange, but mostly doesn't actually interfere with doing anything unless I have actually overdone it and it really is swollen (as opposed to only feeling like it is).

     I look older, and my hair came back in all grey and thin (a bit of a shock, since I wasn't gray before and have always had very thick hair), and has a completely different texture that I have a hard time styling.  My eyebrows still haven't really come back and are only half there.  And, of course, there are scars that sometimes hurt or itch.

     Mostly, in other words, I am still me, I'm still fine, and cancer has affected me in a lot of ways, but I have not been devastated by it.  I count myself as the winner in this.

GRP: What do people need to know about cancer or gaming?  

M-A: Well, when someone is trying to find their way through any kind of serious condition (cancer being only one of them), drama of any kind isn't helpful.  Telling them the things they "should have done" to prevent its occurrence (most of which I had done anyway, and some of which were kind of crazy), or the things they should be doing now to "get over it" doesn't help them, unless they ask.  Trust me, they've already heard it, most likely, and are already wondering whether or not doing just that one thing different might have made a difference.

    On the other hand, being there for them in any way IS helpful, as long as you let them rest when they're tired.  If you want to go over and help them, do so... but don't just hang around, unless that's what they ask you to do.  DO something.  Wash some dishes,  Take/make them a dinner (and make sure they aren't on a special diet, or if they are, make something that fits it).  Wash a load or two of clothes.  Mow the lawn.  Anything.  It may embarrass them, but it really does help.  

     I got help during chemo from a church and from friends, but by the time surgery came around, the church people were gone and many of the other people who'd been helping weren't able to help any more.  So when I needed it most after surgery, most of the help I was getting was gone.  Now, don't get me wrong; that doesn't mean that the help they had given before was any less helpful or that I blamed my friends for having lives, but maybe if it could have been spread out somehow instead of all at the beginning, it would have been easier for me... if not for them.  I don't like the way that sounds, because I'm not whining; I'm really trying to help the next person that might be affected.  Oh, well.

     Anyway... I hope that helps.

GRP: Thank you Mary-An for sharing your story with us. When the initial flurry of diagnosis is over, a lot of times people don't realize just what a long haul journey beating cancer can be. You have always been a great friend to me. Thank you for allowing me to celebrate your life!