My post from 2010 on Arimidex side effects continues to receive comments, and I encourage you to keep your doctor and the FDA updated if you have serious side effects with this or any other medication you take.
To report online: https://www.accessdata.fda.gov/scripts/medwatch/
Blogs and support groups are important for learning you are not alone, but if the FDA does not receive reports, there will be no changes to information about the drug. I'm not trying to get anything taken off the market per se, but if we need specific treatment after cancer, we need a drug that we can live with.
I stopped Arimidex, but only after discussing the risks and alternatives with my oncologist.
Always contact your doctor immediately if you are having side effects or new symptoms. You don't have to wait until your next scheduled visit. Follow up visits are scheduled with the assumption that everything is going smoothly. If it's not, your doctor needs to know so you can get the appropriate care.
Trust your gut - a second or third opinion can change - and/or save - your life. I spoke to a lady who was told her pancreatic tumor was inoperable because it was too close to an artery. She went for a second and third opinion, and found a surgeon that said he does that surgery several times a week.
As health care is changing, it is more important than ever to be informed and proactive in your treatment choices.
I wish you a happy, healthy and abundant year ahead!
Friday, December 20, 2013
Thursday, September 5, 2013
TurbanDiva Special Announcement & Request!
PLEASE VOTE for Titillating Turbans!
Intuit is putting on a Small
Business Big Game contest to recognize small business owners. "Small businesses deserve all the admiration we can give
them. That’s why we’re putting one lucky business on the Big Game, where
everyone can celebrate their passion as much as we do." their website
states.
My small business, Titillating
Turbans (i.e.; TurbanDiva.com) could win a TV commercial on
the Big Game (the Superbowl!!) on February 2, 2014!!
Can you help me by voting for my
company and telling your friends, sharing this with your social media followers
pretty please??
The Cinderella story at this year's Big Game will take place during a commercial break. It's the world's biggest stage, and a lucky small business could be on it right beside some of the biggest brands.
I just entered - PLEASE VOTE for Titillating Turbans as your favorite business – you can vote every day!!
Click here to vote: http://intuit.me/14l231u
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Kathryn
July 11, 2011, 3 a.m. I wake with severe abdominal pain, in a half-dream of Mom, snickering with her usual sarcastic wit, “This is how I brought you in, so it’s how you can see me out.” At 7 a.m. my brother called to say she had passed away in her sleep.
June 29, 2013, 3 a.m. I wake with my abdomen in knots, in a half-dream of Kathryn, in a sweet breeze around me, smiling and telling me how happy she was about the gathering we had had for her the week before. Later that afternoon, I take a deep breath when I get her answering service, and leave a message to let her know I’m thinking of her and I love her.
I feel simultaneous joy and relief when she returns my call a few minutes later. Her voice is breathless and raspy but laughing, telling me the party went on for hours after most of the crowd left.
At the end of the day, with just a few of us remaining to tidy up, she had said she was really in the mood for shots, and sent her daughter out for tequila. “What the heck,” she said, contrasted with her years of dietary perfection, “at this point it can only help.” As I drove away, I passed Jen returning with the goods.
During our call, talking is difficult for her, so we keep it brief. She’s had a recent scare when not being able to catch her breath. We say what we know, but always needs to be said again and again… I love you, see you in a couple of days.
The next morning I’m delighted to receive an email with her name in the subject line, initially thinking it’s from Kathryn. My breath catches in my throat when I read that it’s written by our friend… Kathryn died early this morning with her daughters by her side.
We met a few years ago when a friend referred her regarding professional services. Within a few minutes of our phone conversation, we were chatting like old friends. Kathryn had a way of connecting to your heart gently, instantly, as soothing as a breeze on a sweltering day. No wonder she came to me that way in my dream.
Whenever I was with Kathryn I met remarkable, unforgettable people. She was brilliant and brave and relentless in her efforts to find answers about cancer causes and effects and treatments. Her breast cancer had started long before I met her, and there was a period of time when we first met, after the chemo and radiation and mastectomy and reconstruction, that we thought it was all behind her.
When she later learned about the metastasis, she attacked it head on. She had successes and failures, tumors that came and went. She researched and shared medical and complementary ways she was fighting and often overcoming yet another challenge. She survived and thrived much longer than I thought possible, and I believed she would win.
We had spoken a few months earlier; she had just sold her house, and was excited about a beautiful place she had found to share with a remarkable roommate. I later found out that they had connected within 11 minutes of this woman listing the opening on Craig’s list, of all places.
She loved her new home, was feeling great and we were trying to set a date to get together. The good & bad news is that the house was in a spectacular rural setting – and the cell reception was awful. Through a static connection, she said she’d call when she was closer to civilization.
Time sneaks by all too swiftly as we tend to our to-do lists. After our last conversation, I thought Kathryn was on the road to recovery and would be here forever. While talking to a mutual friend a few weeks ago I asked if she had seen Kathryn lately, and she told me she had gone into hospice the day before. The next day her daughter Jen called to invite me to a “Gathering” that Kathryn’s roommate was hosting that weekend.
Kathryn is an artist and loves beauty and color and nature; I wanted her gift to delight her senses. I made her something beautiful to wear and shopped for the perfect box.
I arrived early to help where I could and have a little quiet time to visit before there were too many distractions for her.
Her daughter & granddaughter had gone makeup shopping, and Kathryn was a willing victim as we fussed over her and primped and decorated.
She laughed about her “muskrat hair” and delighted in all the loving attention. Although some gently argued with any self-disparaging hair comments, we smiled at each other with the shared secret that comes only from having been there.
At some point, all you can do is laugh at the thick regrowth that looks as if it slept on an eggbeater.
As we set up the outdoor celebration, the clouds drizzled gentle tears of resignation.
Within a few minutes everything was refreshed and sunshine welcomed the dozens of friends who arrived with food and spontaneous live music and laughter.
Kathryn greeted everyone blanketed in a pastel pink cloud, surrounded with love.
We all gathered around, her family embracing her, to toast her with love and gratitude for the blessing her friendship has been in our lives.
The more eloquent among us poured forth what we were able only to feel, and the rest of us toasted our “ditto!!”
In responding to our good wishes, she looked deeply into my eyes, saying thank you, and how much our friendship meant. Although she made me feel like I was the only one, I know she somehow did this for of every one of us in the group.
That’s how Kathryn is. When you are with her, you feel deeply that you are important and loved.
I was one of the last to leave. After hugging me with extraordinary strength, our eyes locked as she said, “Everyone has been amazing. This day has been so wonderful. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Ever.”
Thank you for being in my life, Kathryn.
Thank you for the unconditional love and wisdom you shared that will ever expand to touch people you have never met.
I’ve never experienced anyone like you. Ever.
June 29, 2013, 3 a.m. I wake with my abdomen in knots, in a half-dream of Kathryn, in a sweet breeze around me, smiling and telling me how happy she was about the gathering we had had for her the week before. Later that afternoon, I take a deep breath when I get her answering service, and leave a message to let her know I’m thinking of her and I love her.
I feel simultaneous joy and relief when she returns my call a few minutes later. Her voice is breathless and raspy but laughing, telling me the party went on for hours after most of the crowd left.
At the end of the day, with just a few of us remaining to tidy up, she had said she was really in the mood for shots, and sent her daughter out for tequila. “What the heck,” she said, contrasted with her years of dietary perfection, “at this point it can only help.” As I drove away, I passed Jen returning with the goods.
During our call, talking is difficult for her, so we keep it brief. She’s had a recent scare when not being able to catch her breath. We say what we know, but always needs to be said again and again… I love you, see you in a couple of days.
The next morning I’m delighted to receive an email with her name in the subject line, initially thinking it’s from Kathryn. My breath catches in my throat when I read that it’s written by our friend… Kathryn died early this morning with her daughters by her side.
We met a few years ago when a friend referred her regarding professional services. Within a few minutes of our phone conversation, we were chatting like old friends. Kathryn had a way of connecting to your heart gently, instantly, as soothing as a breeze on a sweltering day. No wonder she came to me that way in my dream.
Whenever I was with Kathryn I met remarkable, unforgettable people. She was brilliant and brave and relentless in her efforts to find answers about cancer causes and effects and treatments. Her breast cancer had started long before I met her, and there was a period of time when we first met, after the chemo and radiation and mastectomy and reconstruction, that we thought it was all behind her.
When she later learned about the metastasis, she attacked it head on. She had successes and failures, tumors that came and went. She researched and shared medical and complementary ways she was fighting and often overcoming yet another challenge. She survived and thrived much longer than I thought possible, and I believed she would win.
We had spoken a few months earlier; she had just sold her house, and was excited about a beautiful place she had found to share with a remarkable roommate. I later found out that they had connected within 11 minutes of this woman listing the opening on Craig’s list, of all places.
She loved her new home, was feeling great and we were trying to set a date to get together. The good & bad news is that the house was in a spectacular rural setting – and the cell reception was awful. Through a static connection, she said she’d call when she was closer to civilization.
Time sneaks by all too swiftly as we tend to our to-do lists. After our last conversation, I thought Kathryn was on the road to recovery and would be here forever. While talking to a mutual friend a few weeks ago I asked if she had seen Kathryn lately, and she told me she had gone into hospice the day before. The next day her daughter Jen called to invite me to a “Gathering” that Kathryn’s roommate was hosting that weekend.
Kathryn is an artist and loves beauty and color and nature; I wanted her gift to delight her senses. I made her something beautiful to wear and shopped for the perfect box.
I arrived early to help where I could and have a little quiet time to visit before there were too many distractions for her.
Her daughter & granddaughter had gone makeup shopping, and Kathryn was a willing victim as we fussed over her and primped and decorated.
She laughed about her “muskrat hair” and delighted in all the loving attention. Although some gently argued with any self-disparaging hair comments, we smiled at each other with the shared secret that comes only from having been there.
At some point, all you can do is laugh at the thick regrowth that looks as if it slept on an eggbeater.
As we set up the outdoor celebration, the clouds drizzled gentle tears of resignation.
Within a few minutes everything was refreshed and sunshine welcomed the dozens of friends who arrived with food and spontaneous live music and laughter.Kathryn greeted everyone blanketed in a pastel pink cloud, surrounded with love.
We all gathered around, her family embracing her, to toast her with love and gratitude for the blessing her friendship has been in our lives. The more eloquent among us poured forth what we were able only to feel, and the rest of us toasted our “ditto!!”
In responding to our good wishes, she looked deeply into my eyes, saying thank you, and how much our friendship meant. Although she made me feel like I was the only one, I know she somehow did this for of every one of us in the group.
That’s how Kathryn is. When you are with her, you feel deeply that you are important and loved.
I was one of the last to leave. After hugging me with extraordinary strength, our eyes locked as she said, “Everyone has been amazing. This day has been so wonderful. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Ever.”
Thank you for being in my life, Kathryn.
Thank you for the unconditional love and wisdom you shared that will ever expand to touch people you have never met.
I’ve never experienced anyone like you. Ever.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Carol - Our "TurbanDiva" of the Month
It's been a long time since my last entry. I think the need to write arises in me out of a sense of longing for answers, and when I'm happy I don't feel so much like blogging. Fortunately, it certainly doesn't stop other means of communication for me.
I've been enjoying the delightful visual orgy that is Pinterest, and thought it would be fun to do a "Pin It to Win It" contest this month. Little did I know how this simple act of kindness would introduce me to so many wonderful women.
Carol is our first weekly winner, and as her story started to unfold, I asked her if she would mind sharing her story as the "Turban Diva of the Month" on my site. For those that are more likely to visit blogs than shopping sites, it occurred to me to share these stories here. This is Carol's marvelous story:
I’m a single mom of four, and was born and raised in Atlanta, GA. I was married twice to military men and have lived many places. My daughter was born in KS, my oldest son in GA and my 2 youngest sons in Germany. Worked at the VAMC for a year and then worked for the University of Missouri for 15 years. First at the School of Nursing. The last 10 years at the School of Law. I was put out on medical disability/retirement Sept 2012.
I still am not sure that I am in full admission that I have cancer. I think I have done everything that I have needed to do with this battle with a sense of humor. People would ask me how I could still laugh. And my response was always, if you can't laugh, then all you can do is cry and that's not fun.
I had been sick for a couple of years. I had been seeing specialist after specialist. I was told I was a menopausal aged woman and that I needed to eat less, exercise more and was even sent to see a dietician to look at my food intake.
But yet I continued to get bigger; bloating was horrible. By the time they figured out I had cancer, I was a Stage IV multi-site metastasized patient. It took them several weeks to finally decide it was Ovarian cancer. Because I also had cancer in my spleen and liver, it was not a "standard" ovarian diagnosis. But, nonetheless, there it was. Approx 10 -12 tumors in my abdomen and one mass the size of my fist.
As women, we know that sometimes doctors treat us as just another complainer. I let this go on way too long, all the while bloating up and in pain. Never again. If you feel that something is wrong and you are not getting listened to, or treated as such GO GET ANOTHER OPINION! Women are too quick to comply and we don't like to hurt feelings. "Well, my doctor might find out I saw someone else. That might upset them." GOOD!!! I hesitate to think if I had raised a bigger stink two years ago, would this had been found much earlier and would I have become a Stage IV level or not. I will never know.
I should take a moment to mention how I found out. My liver specialist had sent me for an ultrasound on a Thursday. He called me back that afternoon and told me I had an appointment the next morning at the cancer hospital. They thought they had seen something. Now at this time, I don't know what my diagnosis is, I don't know what they have seen, I'm completely blank. But how bad could it be, right? I mean, I had been seeing these specialists for two years. I went into the room. And this resident came in and blurts out that I am Stage IV and I probably have 6 to 18 months to live.
Do not ask me anything that happened after that. I was in such a state of shock, I could not hear, I couldn't see, I couldn't think. To this day I cannot shake those words out of my head. Once it's in there, it's stuck. The one smart thing I did, and I recommend to everyone, is have someone go with them to every appointment that you are going to be talking to the doctor. Thank goodness I did, and my friend wrote down notes for me to read later. She was both my angel and my rock.
Now, I had to go home and call my kids and tell them. Words were said, questions were asked. I am blank to this day. My oldest son said recently that he doesn't remember how he felt when I told them about my cancer diagnosis. He said all he kept thinking was, “Can this be real? Why? And what was going to happen to get treatment and what if the treatment didn't work?”
But he doesn't remember what I said or how I answered his questions. And I really don't either. It was like watching a TV show and it was a surreal experience. My second youngest son said, "I felt very sad and concerned about your health. And mad that you had been seeing these doctors for so long. How did they let it get to stage IV?"
Here are the 3 things that completely broke me down: 1. The idea I was not going to be here to see my two youngest sons graduate from college. 2. That I would not be in attendance at any of my children’s weddings. 3. I would never know or see my grandchildren. I would completely fall apart at these thoughts.
I initially started my care at a different cancer hospital and a different Oncologist. But I had been going there for a month and nothing was being done. They kept telling me that treatment would start soon. When?
I got angry. I was going to the doctor’s every week and nothing was being done. I finally got ticked off enough to decide to look elsewhere for treatment. I found one of the best oncologists we have in this town and a center who worked to make sure you got all the help you need.
I started with my new doctor on a Friday; I was in chemo the next week. He was shocked to learn they let me just sit for a whole month. He and I have similar personalities, so within 10 minutes of meeting with him, I knew I was making a change. After only two months of chemo, all my tumors had shown signs of reduction.
I was put in touch with our local American Cancer Society chapter. If you have them available, I urge you to contact them. They can give you info on websites, and support groups. This is where I found out about Turban Diva’s website. A lot of them offer a class called "Look Good, Feel Better". It's a group of volunteers who work with women and they do neat make up ideas, and bring in turbans and scarves and show you different ways to use them.
I was able to get one free wig from the ACS. I thought, "I've been a redhead maybe when my hair falls out, I would try being a blonde." Why not! Well, I tried on some blonde wigs and realized I was a redhead for a reason!
One thing I would like to express, even if you don't attend a class or you're not the make up wearer, please start a strict moisturizing program. It doesn't have to be expensive products just get into the habit. Chemo is going to be rough on your skin too.
I was doing chemo every week for six months. But, if you must do it, then why not have some fun with it. Your hair is going. There's no way to stop it. I went down to get my hair cut off before it started to fall out, but the stylist just cut it very short and it took about two months before it fell out. Once it begins to fall out, it seems to happen rather rapidly. It is most annoying to have hair falling into your food all the time; taking a shower, and losing large clumps all over the place.
I tried to make light of being bald. I would post on my FB wall things like, advantages of no hair: 1. You save a lot of money on hair products 2. Getting ready is quick. Grab your turban off of your stand, throw it on and roll. 3. Some people have bad hair days, chemo patients have no hair days. 4. Let the wind blow. It’s not going to mess up your turban!
But never forget, it's okay to cry. I would get in the shower and cry. It was something I got used to doing as a single parent. I’d think I can’t show the kids how scared you are, but if you cry in the shower, no one can hear you and if your eyes are all red, it was the soap.
I'm sure your doctor or nurse will tell you that you don't just lose the hair on your head. I enjoyed the side effect of not having to shave my legs for about four months. That was a positive. I was, however, not prepared for my reaction when my eyebrows and eyelashes fell out. It had taken such a long time, I thought I was past the point it would happen. I was four months into treatment. That was harder for me to deal with than all of my other hair. I had gotten an eyebrow pencil and was filling in my eyebrows. After my eyelashes fell out, I started drawing a thicker line of eyeliner. I could not use false eyelashes while in treatment.
But, you see, I consider myself a clothes horse. When it came time to decide to wear the turbans, I looked at it as a way of expanding my looks. Coordinating your turban or your scarf or hat with your look can become fun. You want to make sure you have what I call the basic three. One for when you are very cold, one for when you are sweating the chemo and one just for you for looks. (Actually, TurbanDiva.com has so many pretty sets that you will want more than one!)
When I started chemo, I began a Cancer Sucks page on my FB. Some people like to journal, but mine was more a photo view of what cancer, chemo and surgery was doing to me physically. Don't discount your access to social media. My friends who live so far away have been so supportive. They felt like they were involved in my travels down this journey. Their prayers and continuing uplifting support have gotten me through some rough times.
It has been a year since I was diagnosed. I have spent many hours in the chemo room. I have had major surgery that kept me away for a month and completely opened up my abdomen from top to bottom. And even though there was some hope I may get a break, I had to restart chemo again January 2, 2013. Can't say it was my best New Year’s event, but I know I am looking at things differently now. While I am hoping that I might get a break after this round, I am trying to make plans to do some traveling.
As my new doctor says, only God decides when we are ready to go. But when you are put in the situation that you know your life has been shortened, you re-prioritize. Nothing about this experience is fun. Nothing about what it does to your body is pleasing. At times, with all it does to you, you can feel less than the woman you were. I would look at my bald head in the mirror and wonder if I was ever going to see the woman I was before my diagnosis. It's very hard sometimes.
But the one thing you can control is your attitude about it. I used to call my chemo days my favorite day of the week. I was going to get cool meds that make you either sleepy or goofy. I felt that the chemo was doing the battle and I was there to fight. Plus, it was the one day a week that I could eat without getting nauseated. And the nurses in the chemo room are great. I laugh and joke around with them all the time. Sometimes they bring me pastries!
My prayers go with any and everyone who has to deal with this most horrendous ordeal called cancer. It doesn't see age, race, sex, rich or poor. But you do your battle. Fight as long as you can. There will be some good days in between the bad. Don't miss those.
My motto:
This is how a Southern girl kicks cancer’s butt: Get dressed, put on your makeup, throw on that turban, put on your kick butt boots (styling ones, of course) and go and fight the good fight!! But first, girl, go get that manicure!
My favorite Quote: Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over, she became a butterfly!
Butterflies and the color purple have become my symbol for strength. When I was admitted to the hospital in November for my surgery, the first thing I saw was a beautiful photo of a white butterfly sitting on a purple flower. And I remember, even though very heavily sedated that whole week, it made me smile.
I've been enjoying the delightful visual orgy that is Pinterest, and thought it would be fun to do a "Pin It to Win It" contest this month. Little did I know how this simple act of kindness would introduce me to so many wonderful women.
Carol is our first weekly winner, and as her story started to unfold, I asked her if she would mind sharing her story as the "Turban Diva of the Month" on my site. For those that are more likely to visit blogs than shopping sites, it occurred to me to share these stories here. This is Carol's marvelous story:
I’m a single mom of four, and was born and raised in Atlanta, GA. I was married twice to military men and have lived many places. My daughter was born in KS, my oldest son in GA and my 2 youngest sons in Germany. Worked at the VAMC for a year and then worked for the University of Missouri for 15 years. First at the School of Nursing. The last 10 years at the School of Law. I was put out on medical disability/retirement Sept 2012.
I still am not sure that I am in full admission that I have cancer. I think I have done everything that I have needed to do with this battle with a sense of humor. People would ask me how I could still laugh. And my response was always, if you can't laugh, then all you can do is cry and that's not fun.
I had been sick for a couple of years. I had been seeing specialist after specialist. I was told I was a menopausal aged woman and that I needed to eat less, exercise more and was even sent to see a dietician to look at my food intake.
But yet I continued to get bigger; bloating was horrible. By the time they figured out I had cancer, I was a Stage IV multi-site metastasized patient. It took them several weeks to finally decide it was Ovarian cancer. Because I also had cancer in my spleen and liver, it was not a "standard" ovarian diagnosis. But, nonetheless, there it was. Approx 10 -12 tumors in my abdomen and one mass the size of my fist.
As women, we know that sometimes doctors treat us as just another complainer. I let this go on way too long, all the while bloating up and in pain. Never again. If you feel that something is wrong and you are not getting listened to, or treated as such GO GET ANOTHER OPINION! Women are too quick to comply and we don't like to hurt feelings. "Well, my doctor might find out I saw someone else. That might upset them." GOOD!!! I hesitate to think if I had raised a bigger stink two years ago, would this had been found much earlier and would I have become a Stage IV level or not. I will never know.
I should take a moment to mention how I found out. My liver specialist had sent me for an ultrasound on a Thursday. He called me back that afternoon and told me I had an appointment the next morning at the cancer hospital. They thought they had seen something. Now at this time, I don't know what my diagnosis is, I don't know what they have seen, I'm completely blank. But how bad could it be, right? I mean, I had been seeing these specialists for two years. I went into the room. And this resident came in and blurts out that I am Stage IV and I probably have 6 to 18 months to live.
Do not ask me anything that happened after that. I was in such a state of shock, I could not hear, I couldn't see, I couldn't think. To this day I cannot shake those words out of my head. Once it's in there, it's stuck. The one smart thing I did, and I recommend to everyone, is have someone go with them to every appointment that you are going to be talking to the doctor. Thank goodness I did, and my friend wrote down notes for me to read later. She was both my angel and my rock.
Now, I had to go home and call my kids and tell them. Words were said, questions were asked. I am blank to this day. My oldest son said recently that he doesn't remember how he felt when I told them about my cancer diagnosis. He said all he kept thinking was, “Can this be real? Why? And what was going to happen to get treatment and what if the treatment didn't work?”
But he doesn't remember what I said or how I answered his questions. And I really don't either. It was like watching a TV show and it was a surreal experience. My second youngest son said, "I felt very sad and concerned about your health. And mad that you had been seeing these doctors for so long. How did they let it get to stage IV?"
Here are the 3 things that completely broke me down: 1. The idea I was not going to be here to see my two youngest sons graduate from college. 2. That I would not be in attendance at any of my children’s weddings. 3. I would never know or see my grandchildren. I would completely fall apart at these thoughts.
I initially started my care at a different cancer hospital and a different Oncologist. But I had been going there for a month and nothing was being done. They kept telling me that treatment would start soon. When?
I got angry. I was going to the doctor’s every week and nothing was being done. I finally got ticked off enough to decide to look elsewhere for treatment. I found one of the best oncologists we have in this town and a center who worked to make sure you got all the help you need.
I started with my new doctor on a Friday; I was in chemo the next week. He was shocked to learn they let me just sit for a whole month. He and I have similar personalities, so within 10 minutes of meeting with him, I knew I was making a change. After only two months of chemo, all my tumors had shown signs of reduction.
I was put in touch with our local American Cancer Society chapter. If you have them available, I urge you to contact them. They can give you info on websites, and support groups. This is where I found out about Turban Diva’s website. A lot of them offer a class called "Look Good, Feel Better". It's a group of volunteers who work with women and they do neat make up ideas, and bring in turbans and scarves and show you different ways to use them.
I was able to get one free wig from the ACS. I thought, "I've been a redhead maybe when my hair falls out, I would try being a blonde." Why not! Well, I tried on some blonde wigs and realized I was a redhead for a reason!
One thing I would like to express, even if you don't attend a class or you're not the make up wearer, please start a strict moisturizing program. It doesn't have to be expensive products just get into the habit. Chemo is going to be rough on your skin too.
I was doing chemo every week for six months. But, if you must do it, then why not have some fun with it. Your hair is going. There's no way to stop it. I went down to get my hair cut off before it started to fall out, but the stylist just cut it very short and it took about two months before it fell out. Once it begins to fall out, it seems to happen rather rapidly. It is most annoying to have hair falling into your food all the time; taking a shower, and losing large clumps all over the place.
I tried to make light of being bald. I would post on my FB wall things like, advantages of no hair: 1. You save a lot of money on hair products 2. Getting ready is quick. Grab your turban off of your stand, throw it on and roll. 3. Some people have bad hair days, chemo patients have no hair days. 4. Let the wind blow. It’s not going to mess up your turban!
But never forget, it's okay to cry. I would get in the shower and cry. It was something I got used to doing as a single parent. I’d think I can’t show the kids how scared you are, but if you cry in the shower, no one can hear you and if your eyes are all red, it was the soap.
I'm sure your doctor or nurse will tell you that you don't just lose the hair on your head. I enjoyed the side effect of not having to shave my legs for about four months. That was a positive. I was, however, not prepared for my reaction when my eyebrows and eyelashes fell out. It had taken such a long time, I thought I was past the point it would happen. I was four months into treatment. That was harder for me to deal with than all of my other hair. I had gotten an eyebrow pencil and was filling in my eyebrows. After my eyelashes fell out, I started drawing a thicker line of eyeliner. I could not use false eyelashes while in treatment.
But, you see, I consider myself a clothes horse. When it came time to decide to wear the turbans, I looked at it as a way of expanding my looks. Coordinating your turban or your scarf or hat with your look can become fun. You want to make sure you have what I call the basic three. One for when you are very cold, one for when you are sweating the chemo and one just for you for looks. (Actually, TurbanDiva.com has so many pretty sets that you will want more than one!)
When I started chemo, I began a Cancer Sucks page on my FB. Some people like to journal, but mine was more a photo view of what cancer, chemo and surgery was doing to me physically. Don't discount your access to social media. My friends who live so far away have been so supportive. They felt like they were involved in my travels down this journey. Their prayers and continuing uplifting support have gotten me through some rough times.
It has been a year since I was diagnosed. I have spent many hours in the chemo room. I have had major surgery that kept me away for a month and completely opened up my abdomen from top to bottom. And even though there was some hope I may get a break, I had to restart chemo again January 2, 2013. Can't say it was my best New Year’s event, but I know I am looking at things differently now. While I am hoping that I might get a break after this round, I am trying to make plans to do some traveling.
As my new doctor says, only God decides when we are ready to go. But when you are put in the situation that you know your life has been shortened, you re-prioritize. Nothing about this experience is fun. Nothing about what it does to your body is pleasing. At times, with all it does to you, you can feel less than the woman you were. I would look at my bald head in the mirror and wonder if I was ever going to see the woman I was before my diagnosis. It's very hard sometimes.
But the one thing you can control is your attitude about it. I used to call my chemo days my favorite day of the week. I was going to get cool meds that make you either sleepy or goofy. I felt that the chemo was doing the battle and I was there to fight. Plus, it was the one day a week that I could eat without getting nauseated. And the nurses in the chemo room are great. I laugh and joke around with them all the time. Sometimes they bring me pastries!
My prayers go with any and everyone who has to deal with this most horrendous ordeal called cancer. It doesn't see age, race, sex, rich or poor. But you do your battle. Fight as long as you can. There will be some good days in between the bad. Don't miss those.
My motto:
This is how a Southern girl kicks cancer’s butt: Get dressed, put on your makeup, throw on that turban, put on your kick butt boots (styling ones, of course) and go and fight the good fight!! But first, girl, go get that manicure!
My favorite Quote: Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over, she became a butterfly!
Butterflies and the color purple have become my symbol for strength. When I was admitted to the hospital in November for my surgery, the first thing I saw was a beautiful photo of a white butterfly sitting on a purple flower. And I remember, even though very heavily sedated that whole week, it made me smile.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Christmas 2011 - Birth of a New American Christmas Tradition
This has been circulating emails, and I have no idea where it originated, but I think it's a great idea for boosting our economy this holiday season!
As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into high gear to provide Americans with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods - merchandise that has been produced at the expense of American labor. This year will be different. This year Americans will give the gift of genuine concern for other Americans. There is no longer an excuse that, at gift giving time, nothing can be found that is produced by American hands. Yes there is!
It's time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in a shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper?
EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificates from your local American hair salon or barber?
Gym membership? It's appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some health improvement.
Who wouldn't appreciate getting their car detailed? Small, American owned detail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or a book of gift certificates.
Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plunking down the Benjamins on a Chinese made flat-screen? Perhaps that grateful gift receiver would like his driveway sealed, or lawn mowed for the summer, or driveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.
There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants - all offering gift certificates. And, if your intended isn't the fancy eatery sort, what about a half dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint. Remember, folks this isn't about big National chains - this is about supporting your home town Americans with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.
How many people couldn't use an oil change for their car, truck or motorcycle, done at a shop run by the American working guy?
Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom? Mom would LOVE the services of a local cleaning lady for a day.
My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who is struggling to get his repair business up and running.
OK, you were looking for something more personal. Local crafts people spin their own wool and knit them into scarves. They make jewelry, and pottery and beautiful wooden boxes.
Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leave your server a nice tip. And, how about going out to see a play or ballet at your hometown theater.
Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.
Honestly, people, do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chinese lights for the house? When you buy a five dollar string of light, about fifty cents stays in the community. If you have those kinds of bucks to burn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.
You see, Christmas is no longer about draining American pockets so that China can build another glittering city. Christmas is now about caring about US, encouraging American small businesses to keep plugging away to follow their dreams. And, when we care about other Americans, we care about our communities, and the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn't imagine.
THIS is the new American Christmas tradition.
Forward this to everyone on your mailing list - post it to discussion groups - throw up a post on Craigslist in the Rants and Raves section in your city - send it to the editor of your local paper and radio stations,
and TV news departments.
This is a revolution of caring about each other,
and isn't that what Christmas is about?
As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into high gear to provide Americans with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods - merchandise that has been produced at the expense of American labor. This year will be different. This year Americans will give the gift of genuine concern for other Americans. There is no longer an excuse that, at gift giving time, nothing can be found that is produced by American hands. Yes there is!
It's time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in a shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper?
EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificates from your local American hair salon or barber?
Gym membership? It's appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some health improvement.
Who wouldn't appreciate getting their car detailed? Small, American owned detail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or a book of gift certificates.
Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plunking down the Benjamins on a Chinese made flat-screen? Perhaps that grateful gift receiver would like his driveway sealed, or lawn mowed for the summer, or driveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.
There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants - all offering gift certificates. And, if your intended isn't the fancy eatery sort, what about a half dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint. Remember, folks this isn't about big National chains - this is about supporting your home town Americans with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.
How many people couldn't use an oil change for their car, truck or motorcycle, done at a shop run by the American working guy?
Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom? Mom would LOVE the services of a local cleaning lady for a day.
My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who is struggling to get his repair business up and running.
OK, you were looking for something more personal. Local crafts people spin their own wool and knit them into scarves. They make jewelry, and pottery and beautiful wooden boxes.
Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leave your server a nice tip. And, how about going out to see a play or ballet at your hometown theater.
Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.
Honestly, people, do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chinese lights for the house? When you buy a five dollar string of light, about fifty cents stays in the community. If you have those kinds of bucks to burn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.
You see, Christmas is no longer about draining American pockets so that China can build another glittering city. Christmas is now about caring about US, encouraging American small businesses to keep plugging away to follow their dreams. And, when we care about other Americans, we care about our communities, and the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn't imagine.
THIS is the new American Christmas tradition.
Forward this to everyone on your mailing list - post it to discussion groups - throw up a post on Craigslist in the Rants and Raves section in your city - send it to the editor of your local paper and radio stations,
and TV news departments.
This is a revolution of caring about each other,
and isn't that what Christmas is about?
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Cancer Survivor - for Today
As we sweep away the final remnants of pink that have come to symbolize October, I realize that I am 3 years past my chemo treatment that started October 16, 2008. I'm still here - that makes me a "survivor" - but what does that mean?
I don’t know why some of us survive and others do not, no matter how fiercely they may fight. There are those that face devastating battles, which leaves me feeling I am in no position to complain. My case was merely a case of sniffles in comparison.
To be a cancer survivor means I have been blessed with another day. It doesn’t mean I’m safer than anyone else. It doesn’t mean the risk is over. It doesn’t mean another cancer can’t attack at any moment.
I am angry that I “did everything right” and got cancer anyways, but that doesn’t minimize my appreciation of the endless miracles in my life.
Being a survivor does mean I have a greater respect for life. I was given a second chance, and I am grateful for that with every breath. And I educate – even nag – others to trust their body, recognize when something is not quite right, don’t delay testing and get screened regularly because we don’t really know who is at risk or why.
There is a lovely line from a short prayer that asks, “May the stream of my life flow into the river of eternal love.” I don't remember where I first found it, but it touched me so deeply that it forever surpassed the multitude of prayers I was forced to memorize in school.
It reminds me that moments of our life are like the infinite droplets in a stream, mostly unnoticed as they rush toward the river of experience that is our life. But every now and then we are splashed with a moment that becomes an indelible memory, part of the story that ultimately defines us.
When cancer flooded my life, it was not without significant splashing moments.
The moment in 2005 when I found “a lump.” The tiny, hard kind you read about in all the “how to do a breast self exam” flyers.
The kind you hope you’ll never find.
The moment when realized I was not separate from the women around me, uniformed in our blue exam gowns as we sat in the radiology waiting room, trying to pretend it was just a routine office visit. United by the fear that our bodies may have turned against us, we waited.
I wondered which of us would remember that day as “The Day I Found Out…”
The moment when my tests came back clear – when they said it was simply scar tissue.
I felt released, relieved and invincible.
And three years later, after a routine mammogram, when the nurse brought me to a consult room, where I waited in the eerie glow of light boxes and diagnostic equipment.
The doctor entered with a warm smile, sleek black hair, and looked much too young to be giving me advice. He said it still looked like scar tissue, but had changed a little and I might want to consider a biopsy.
I was afraid a needle biopsy would hurt and I wanted to stop worrying about the lump. Put me to sleep, take out the whole damn thing. Let’s be done with it.
I remember a groggy post-op grin to my smiling surgeon who said everything went great, see you in 2 weeks. At the follow up appointment I actually asked him to cut to the chase because I was late for work. Exam, smiles, it was healing beautifully. Yeah, yeah, let me out of here.
No one suspected cancer, none of the tests hinted at malignancy. I had no family history of breast cancer. My family’s life expectancy is 100. I had a healthy lifestyle and a positive attitude.
No cancer for me. Can I go now?
He looked down at my file. “Well, it’s cancer.”
The stream of my life roared over me like a tsunami. He patiently delivered his speech on the early diagnosis, favorable prognosis and treatment options.
All that tumbled around my mind was, “blah blah blah it’s cancer am I going to die? Will I lose my hair? Who will see my patients? How will I pay my overhead?"
I remember the look on my husband’s face that night when I told him, his silence through my chattering about the "early diagnosis and good prognosis."
I had to keep talking to break through that “blah blah blah it’s cancer are you going to die?" I wanted to protect him and everyone I loved from any pain or fear.
To hear the words, “It’s breast cancer” (or any other life-threatening diagnosis) transforms your life. Until that moment, there is no way to even guess how you would respond.
You only know will have no choice but to pack for your journey into the unknown, armed with love and support. And be confident that your guides will appear with the answers whenever you have a need.
Life through breast cancer was surreal. Every day presented a new challenge as my body shed one thing or another or erupted with an unexpected symptom.
Yet I’d look up and appreciate the sky, with gratitude for the day. I’d more deeply love the people around me. It was painfully clear that I darn well better, because none of us know how long we have to enjoy this life.
I discovered solace in my garden, and metaphorical wisdom in killing off the weeds and replanting new life. I found hope in watching the cycle of death and renewal.
The health field is my life work, and I thought my vision was expansive. Breast cancer was a humbling event; I realized how little I knew, even about my own body.
Cancer was a floodlight that illuminated a depth of knowledge, compassion and empathy that would never have been so amplified had I not been faced with this detour in my life.
I've often been told not to get too stuck in my head with all the intellectual stuff – and to deepen the connection between my heart and intuition.
There was probably a simpler way to work that out besides getting cancer, but here I am. I feel blessed that I was guided to remarkable teams of doctors and nurses. And the angels in human and other forms that inspired me to find solutions along the way.
Cancer taught me that I am vulnerable, mortal, and no one is invincible. If I had the choice of never having had cancer or having it, I would accept it, although I truly hope my lesson was learned and I don’t have to repeat it.
The benefit I could never have foreseen is that cancer connected me as lifetime member of what I call the Reluctant Sisterhood. Absorbed into a network of survivors that inspired me to believe this could bring me greater strength, we pool our hard earned wisdom to share with those who will unfortunately but inevitably follow.
We probably would not have chosen this path. Yet we are eagerly drawn into this collective conscious and unconscious network of healing. This is not limited to breast cancer, nor to women; anyone with a need to heal is embraced into the circle of those who have traveled it ahead of you.
This journey has been remarkable, and even the pain and nausea and frustration pulsated with the adventure of life itself that makes me more grateful for every day.
I have an extraordinary husband and family. I learned over and over how incredible my friends are, and every day was like falling in love all over again.
They will be there with unfaltering support through any perilous journey, surrounding me with the love, prayers, sparkly vibes, decorated heads, cards, emails, and most of all the laughter and heartfelt warmth that makes it so easy for me to keep a positive attitude.
I feel gratitude every moment for how they enriched my life beyond my imagination.
I used to believe, "Everything happens for a reason." Then I got cancer, and entered a family of thousands of cancer patients of all ages. And I can find no reason for all this suffering.
Now I believe stuff happens for no reason. But what I do believe is that what we do with that "stuff" defines who we are. I believe we are incredibly loving beings, with instincts not only to preserve our own survival, but to ease the suffering of others.
Whether you knit a cap, send a card, call, tweet or discover a cure, your role in another’s healing is equally important. Our strengths arise from our ability to sense the needs of others and our resiliency in the face of adversity to find solutions that will ease their pain.
I’d like to share the rest of that short prayer, or maybe it’s a poem or a wish.
God made the rivers to flow.
They feel no weariness, they cease not from flowing;
they move as swiftly as the birds in the air.
May the stream of my life flow into the river of eternal love.
Loosen the bonds of sin that bind me.
Let not my work be ended before its fulfillment.
and let not the thread of my song be cut while I sing.
Rig Veda
I don’t know why some of us survive and others do not, no matter how fiercely they may fight. There are those that face devastating battles, which leaves me feeling I am in no position to complain. My case was merely a case of sniffles in comparison.
To be a cancer survivor means I have been blessed with another day. It doesn’t mean I’m safer than anyone else. It doesn’t mean the risk is over. It doesn’t mean another cancer can’t attack at any moment.
I am angry that I “did everything right” and got cancer anyways, but that doesn’t minimize my appreciation of the endless miracles in my life.
Being a survivor does mean I have a greater respect for life. I was given a second chance, and I am grateful for that with every breath. And I educate – even nag – others to trust their body, recognize when something is not quite right, don’t delay testing and get screened regularly because we don’t really know who is at risk or why.
There is a lovely line from a short prayer that asks, “May the stream of my life flow into the river of eternal love.” I don't remember where I first found it, but it touched me so deeply that it forever surpassed the multitude of prayers I was forced to memorize in school.
It reminds me that moments of our life are like the infinite droplets in a stream, mostly unnoticed as they rush toward the river of experience that is our life. But every now and then we are splashed with a moment that becomes an indelible memory, part of the story that ultimately defines us.
When cancer flooded my life, it was not without significant splashing moments.
The moment in 2005 when I found “a lump.” The tiny, hard kind you read about in all the “how to do a breast self exam” flyers.
The kind you hope you’ll never find.
The moment when realized I was not separate from the women around me, uniformed in our blue exam gowns as we sat in the radiology waiting room, trying to pretend it was just a routine office visit. United by the fear that our bodies may have turned against us, we waited.
I wondered which of us would remember that day as “The Day I Found Out…”
The moment when my tests came back clear – when they said it was simply scar tissue.
I felt released, relieved and invincible.
And three years later, after a routine mammogram, when the nurse brought me to a consult room, where I waited in the eerie glow of light boxes and diagnostic equipment.
The doctor entered with a warm smile, sleek black hair, and looked much too young to be giving me advice. He said it still looked like scar tissue, but had changed a little and I might want to consider a biopsy.
I was afraid a needle biopsy would hurt and I wanted to stop worrying about the lump. Put me to sleep, take out the whole damn thing. Let’s be done with it.
I remember a groggy post-op grin to my smiling surgeon who said everything went great, see you in 2 weeks. At the follow up appointment I actually asked him to cut to the chase because I was late for work. Exam, smiles, it was healing beautifully. Yeah, yeah, let me out of here.
No one suspected cancer, none of the tests hinted at malignancy. I had no family history of breast cancer. My family’s life expectancy is 100. I had a healthy lifestyle and a positive attitude.
No cancer for me. Can I go now?
He looked down at my file. “Well, it’s cancer.”
The stream of my life roared over me like a tsunami. He patiently delivered his speech on the early diagnosis, favorable prognosis and treatment options.
All that tumbled around my mind was, “blah blah blah it’s cancer am I going to die? Will I lose my hair? Who will see my patients? How will I pay my overhead?"
I remember the look on my husband’s face that night when I told him, his silence through my chattering about the "early diagnosis and good prognosis."
I had to keep talking to break through that “blah blah blah it’s cancer are you going to die?" I wanted to protect him and everyone I loved from any pain or fear.
To hear the words, “It’s breast cancer” (or any other life-threatening diagnosis) transforms your life. Until that moment, there is no way to even guess how you would respond.
You only know will have no choice but to pack for your journey into the unknown, armed with love and support. And be confident that your guides will appear with the answers whenever you have a need.
Life through breast cancer was surreal. Every day presented a new challenge as my body shed one thing or another or erupted with an unexpected symptom.
Yet I’d look up and appreciate the sky, with gratitude for the day. I’d more deeply love the people around me. It was painfully clear that I darn well better, because none of us know how long we have to enjoy this life.
I discovered solace in my garden, and metaphorical wisdom in killing off the weeds and replanting new life. I found hope in watching the cycle of death and renewal.
The health field is my life work, and I thought my vision was expansive. Breast cancer was a humbling event; I realized how little I knew, even about my own body.
Cancer was a floodlight that illuminated a depth of knowledge, compassion and empathy that would never have been so amplified had I not been faced with this detour in my life.
I've often been told not to get too stuck in my head with all the intellectual stuff – and to deepen the connection between my heart and intuition.
There was probably a simpler way to work that out besides getting cancer, but here I am. I feel blessed that I was guided to remarkable teams of doctors and nurses. And the angels in human and other forms that inspired me to find solutions along the way.
Cancer taught me that I am vulnerable, mortal, and no one is invincible. If I had the choice of never having had cancer or having it, I would accept it, although I truly hope my lesson was learned and I don’t have to repeat it.
The benefit I could never have foreseen is that cancer connected me as lifetime member of what I call the Reluctant Sisterhood. Absorbed into a network of survivors that inspired me to believe this could bring me greater strength, we pool our hard earned wisdom to share with those who will unfortunately but inevitably follow.
We probably would not have chosen this path. Yet we are eagerly drawn into this collective conscious and unconscious network of healing. This is not limited to breast cancer, nor to women; anyone with a need to heal is embraced into the circle of those who have traveled it ahead of you.
This journey has been remarkable, and even the pain and nausea and frustration pulsated with the adventure of life itself that makes me more grateful for every day.
I have an extraordinary husband and family. I learned over and over how incredible my friends are, and every day was like falling in love all over again.
They will be there with unfaltering support through any perilous journey, surrounding me with the love, prayers, sparkly vibes, decorated heads, cards, emails, and most of all the laughter and heartfelt warmth that makes it so easy for me to keep a positive attitude.
I feel gratitude every moment for how they enriched my life beyond my imagination.
I used to believe, "Everything happens for a reason." Then I got cancer, and entered a family of thousands of cancer patients of all ages. And I can find no reason for all this suffering.
Now I believe stuff happens for no reason. But what I do believe is that what we do with that "stuff" defines who we are. I believe we are incredibly loving beings, with instincts not only to preserve our own survival, but to ease the suffering of others.
Whether you knit a cap, send a card, call, tweet or discover a cure, your role in another’s healing is equally important. Our strengths arise from our ability to sense the needs of others and our resiliency in the face of adversity to find solutions that will ease their pain.
I’d like to share the rest of that short prayer, or maybe it’s a poem or a wish.
God made the rivers to flow.
They feel no weariness, they cease not from flowing;
they move as swiftly as the birds in the air.
May the stream of my life flow into the river of eternal love.
Loosen the bonds of sin that bind me.
Let not my work be ended before its fulfillment.
and let not the thread of my song be cut while I sing.
Rig Veda
Friday, June 24, 2011
Head Wraps and Turbans to Flatter Your Face Shape
A fashion solution for a bad hair day or hair loss are colorful head wraps, turbans and layered scarves, which can be worn indoors or out, from casual to formal looks.
If you think you don’t look good in the latest head wraps or turbans, maybe you haven’t found the right style for your face shape. Just like choosing a hairstyle, your goal is to accentuate the positive and balance the shape of your face.
Remember this is an accessory - part of an outfit. A little planning can turn a plain outfit into a fashion statement!
What is Your Face Shape?
A quick trick is to stand in front of a mirror, smooth your hair away from your face and draw an outline of your reflection on the mirror with a soft eyeliner pencil or old lipstick.
1. Notice the overall length and width of your face.
2. Compare the width of your face in three places:
An oval face is about 1-1/2 times longer than it is wide and the most balanced shape. Whether or not you have hair loss, you can wear just about any style of head covering.
If the length and width of your face are fairly equal, you have a round face and will want to embellish the flat outline of the basic turban or head wrap. Add height by layering with a twisted band or scarf. You can further soften lines with a bow, half bow or silk flower on one side just above your ear.
A square face is about the same width across the forehead and the jaw line. Add height with a twisted band as described above. To soften your jaw line, tie the band just behind your ear, with full ends flowing in front of your collarbone. Or tie a large bow above or behind your ear.
A heart-shaped face is widest across the forehead and/or cheekbones, with a small, narrow jaw line or chin. The edge of the wrap can be a little lower on your forehead, with the knot behind your ear and the tie ends hanging long in front or back.
For you, scarf ends that are square or rounded will look better than pointed ones, which can exaggerate a pronounced chin. A full bow towards the top of your head will accentuate your eyes.
For all face shapes, first bring the edges of the piece around your natural hair line to cover the tops of your ears, and play with twisting, wrapping and tying the end in knots, bows or half bows (only one loop).
If the turban completely covers or replaces your hair, you can balance the look even more with earrings that are larger than you may normally wear.
With the increasing number of women every year that undergo chemotherapy, almost everyone has someone close that has to deal with the side effect of complete hair loss, known as alopecia. As our population ages, many women experience thinning hair from thyroid problems and other medical conditions. In normal circumstances, simply having a bad hair day is aggravating, but hair loss compounds the devastating effects of greater health challenges.
It is not shallow vanity to want to improve our appearance. As visual creatures, we instinctively want to decorate ourselves to relate to others and display our need for connection. Even through illness, you will be more encouraged be around people if you know your unique beauty still reflects from the inside out. Being around those who love and support you is one of the best natural medicines you can find.
Experiment with tying the knot on one side and then the other, with tail ends hanging down. Spread the fabric of the bow for maximum fullness, and position it in different areas around your head. What is your best look?
If you think you don’t look good in the latest head wraps or turbans, maybe you haven’t found the right style for your face shape. Just like choosing a hairstyle, your goal is to accentuate the positive and balance the shape of your face.
Remember this is an accessory - part of an outfit. A little planning can turn a plain outfit into a fashion statement!
What is Your Face Shape?
A quick trick is to stand in front of a mirror, smooth your hair away from your face and draw an outline of your reflection on the mirror with a soft eyeliner pencil or old lipstick.
1. Notice the overall length and width of your face.
2. Compare the width of your face in three places:
- Across your forehead just above your eyebrows
- Across the top of your cheekbones
- Across your jaw line and chin
An oval face is about 1-1/2 times longer than it is wide and the most balanced shape. Whether or not you have hair loss, you can wear just about any style of head covering.
If the length and width of your face are fairly equal, you have a round face and will want to embellish the flat outline of the basic turban or head wrap. Add height by layering with a twisted band or scarf. You can further soften lines with a bow, half bow or silk flower on one side just above your ear.
A square face is about the same width across the forehead and the jaw line. Add height with a twisted band as described above. To soften your jaw line, tie the band just behind your ear, with full ends flowing in front of your collarbone. Or tie a large bow above or behind your ear.
A heart-shaped face is widest across the forehead and/or cheekbones, with a small, narrow jaw line or chin. The edge of the wrap can be a little lower on your forehead, with the knot behind your ear and the tie ends hanging long in front or back.
For you, scarf ends that are square or rounded will look better than pointed ones, which can exaggerate a pronounced chin. A full bow towards the top of your head will accentuate your eyes.
For all face shapes, first bring the edges of the piece around your natural hair line to cover the tops of your ears, and play with twisting, wrapping and tying the end in knots, bows or half bows (only one loop). If the turban completely covers or replaces your hair, you can balance the look even more with earrings that are larger than you may normally wear.
With the increasing number of women every year that undergo chemotherapy, almost everyone has someone close that has to deal with the side effect of complete hair loss, known as alopecia. As our population ages, many women experience thinning hair from thyroid problems and other medical conditions. In normal circumstances, simply having a bad hair day is aggravating, but hair loss compounds the devastating effects of greater health challenges.
It is not shallow vanity to want to improve our appearance. As visual creatures, we instinctively want to decorate ourselves to relate to others and display our need for connection. Even through illness, you will be more encouraged be around people if you know your unique beauty still reflects from the inside out. Being around those who love and support you is one of the best natural medicines you can find.
Experiment with tying the knot on one side and then the other, with tail ends hanging down. Spread the fabric of the bow for maximum fullness, and position it in different areas around your head. What is your best look?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Healing Wardrobe - 5 Tips for Using Color to Lift Your Spirit
For better or worse, color has a significant impact on our emotions. It may not surprise you to know the way each of us perceives color is unique. Bright colors that lift one person´s mood can be overwhelming or garish to someone else. Pastels that aim to soothe the spirit may be too dreary for a bubbly personality.
The colors you wear not only affect your mood, but also communicate something about your personality. The effect of color in our lives can be mystical, psychological and even functional.
During meditation, feelings of well being are enhanced with visualization of color that has specific meaning to the person. Deep breathing exercises that use a sense of color being directed at different areas of the body can help patients cope and better manage the stress and fear related to their illness.
The influence of color had never been so obvious to me until I was faced with hair loss during chemo. With a bald head, I looked - and felt - absolutely drained unless I wore flattering colors.
With the other side effects of chemo, the stress of a chronic illness or alopecia, we need all the cheering up we can get. Our hair is such a significant part of our self image that sudden, complete hair loss often has a deep impact on our identity and confidence.
Each year, thousands of women have chemo hair loss or alopecia from other medical treatments. And at some point in their lives, another 4.5 million people in the US will be affected with baldness from other causes.
But we can face this change by using our favorite colors to our advantage.
Before you choose a cancer hat, tie a head wrap scarf or turban, here are 5 tips for selecting your best colors:
1. Grab a pad & pen. Go through your closet and write the top 3 colors that look best on you. If you´re not sure, hold it near your face in front of the mirror.
2. Add to the list one or two colors that get you compliments when you wear them.
3. List 1 color you purposely avoid wearing (you may or may own that color).
4. Write down one emotion you connect with each color, whether positive or negative. For example: red (exciting, irritating or?); blue (healing or boring?); black (sophisticated or gloomy?).
5. If you don´t own at least 3 colors that make you feel good, fill in your list with the colors you need to add to your wardrobe - and the positive feeling each one gives you.
By consciously making this list, not only will you be drawn to your healing colors, but you will "anchor" that good feeling. Every time you wear these colors, it will reinforce the memory of the positive emotion.
You don´t have to buy a new wardrobe. An accessory worn near your face, such as earrings, or a colorful necklace, can change the whole mood of your appearance.
Is that gray sweater depressing? It can be a beautiful background for a head wrap of fuchsia, purple,turquoise, elegant black, crisp white or an animal print.
For those that unfortunate folks that are stuck with having to deal with their hair every day, dyeing it to match each outfit is not a sensible option. But without hair, you can look elegant with a scarf, turban, head wrap or hat that is a proud statement of your colorful spirit.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Saturday Is the Big Day!
Sorry I missed my Friday check-in, but I was just too busy ... exercising! Yes, I'm still at it and have not missed a day of exercise since 4/7. There were a couple of nights when it was a little tricky, but I felt your eyes in the sky, so to speak, scowling away any excuses.
The Sacramento Komen Race is this Saturday morning, May 7 at Cal Expo. If you have pledged $1/day toward my exercise promise, I assure you with confidence that I won't flake out in these final few days. If $30 is too much, remember that every little bit is appreciated, even $1. I have over 1000 contacts, so if everyone donates $1 it will set me far over my goal.
To make a donation online please click here: Laurie's Komen Page.
If you prefer to donate directly to a local breast cancer support center, please do.
Our Team is from Save-ourselves.org, which has been providing information, support groups and a hotline to the Sacramento area for almost 20 years. You can make a direct donation by clicking on that link.
Not only will you be supporting a fabulous cause, but you have motivate me to exercise, a habit I know reduces my risk for breast cancer.
Once was enough. And if you don't exercise, I encourage you to give it a try. Really, it's not so bad once you make a commitment. Another motivator for me:
“Failure to exercise a minimum of 3 times per week for at least 30 minutes each time
is the equivalent of smoking one pack of cigarettes each day.
...exercise is no longer just good for you, it is bad for you if you don’t exercise.”
Surgeon General, July 11, 1996.
is the equivalent of smoking one pack of cigarettes each day.
...exercise is no longer just good for you, it is bad for you if you don’t exercise.”
Surgeon General, July 11, 1996.
The rebounder has become a permanent fixture in our living room. Dave has become deaf to the eeeeeee-eeee eeeeeee-eeee of the springs as I jog & jump. Yesterday was so busy that I didn't know where I would find the time, but from 9:30 - 10 pm I exchanged my couch time for bouncing along to a Conan rerun.
Congrats to those of you who have been inspired to get on your own exercise program.
What are YOU doing? What motivates you?
So, are you in?? If so, comment here or email me.
To make a donation or join our Team click here: Laurie's Komen Page.
You have my continued gratitude for your emails, checks, online donations, and most of all the collective spirit of your support.
Thank you!
Love, Laurie
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Getting Stronger Every Day
I would never have believed I could be so faithful about exercise. I haven't missed a day since April 7, no matter how late I get home.
The difference/s this time:
Thank you so much for helping me make this change in my life while your contribution reaches women around the world.
If and when you can donate: Laurie's Komen Page
Love, Laurie
The difference/s this time:
- You're watching me
- The first 2 weeks I felt guilty if I didn't
- The past week I feel like something is missing if I don't
The more surprising thing is how quickly my body is responding - triceps no longer flap enough to send me into flight when I brush my teeth. I actually feel muscles in my legs function when I walk. I feel reconnected with my body instead of just lugging it around.
Happy Easter, my friends (or whatever aspect of springtime you may celebrate).Thank you so much for helping me make this change in my life while your contribution reaches women around the world.
If and when you can donate: Laurie's Komen Page
Love, Laurie
Friday, April 15, 2011
Motivation Works. Is It Guilt?

This is amazing; I haven't exercised this faithfully since I was an aspiring disco queen 30+ years ago. The Rebounder has become a permanent fixture in our living room and eliminated all my usual lame excuses for not exercising - time, weather and/or not in the mood to gear up to go out.
This episode began on 4/7/11 when I requested that my friends pledge $1 for each day I exercise between then and the May 7 Komen Race for the Cure. I received so many responses and donations in good faith that I feel like a twerp if I don't exercise every day. Even the night I didn't get home till 9, I felt too guilty to accept my own excuses!! I know you're watching me.
The first 7 days I bounced along with Seinfeld reruns while doing continuous arm exercises with 1 pound weights. Doesn't sound like much, but for a couch Pringle they felt like 10 pounds by the end of the 30 minutes.
Yesterday I received the 1/2011 issue of Self magazine from my friend Lorie who had been my personal trainer ... yikes, 25 years ago. A big heart post-it marked the Jillian Michaels 30 day JumpStart Plan, most notably the 6 buffing yoga poses. Hold each one 30 seconds, repeat the series 5 times (per session, not per month), 2-3 times a week. Piece of cake, how hard can that be?
AAAAUUUUGGHH! At the end of the second round, I crawled to the Rebounder for a reprieve. Today I am acutely aware of muscles that have been hibernating for far too many years.
If you'd like to pledge $1/day you can email me and I'll keep you updated. Or if you'd like to donate right away, any amount and every little bit helps, you can donate online. Click here: Laurie's Komen Page
Some folks have preferred to donate directly to a local resource center, and they need all the help they can get, too. My Team is organized by Save Ourselves of Sacramento; if you would like to find out more and/or donate to them instead, click here: Save-Ourselves.org
Thank you everyone for your support!!
Love, Laurie
Jose Marti, 1853-1895
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Help Me Move My Lazy Butt!!!
Yeah, I still procrastinate with exercise. There's always something SO much more important to do. I NEED HELP. Will you be my Support Group????
After doing the hot line training last weekend with Save Ourselves Breast Cancer Resource Group, I joined their Team for the Komen Race for the Cure on May 7. My goal is to raise $225 over the next month.
BUT WAIT!! Here's the plan. I'm asking my Support Group members to pledge something for each day I get my lazy self up & walking (or rebounding) for at least 30 minutes. The Race is May 7, so if you pledge $1 for each day I exercise, the most you would possibly donate is $30. Based on my record of dedication to exercise, it would more likely end up being $2, but I want to stay positive about this.
These are tough economic times, and every little bit helps. Pledge 50 cents a day, it's OK.
I'll report in every Friday, and hopefully embarrass myself into a month of exercise.
You can donate weekly or wait till the end for a final amount. This is my home page to make a donation or join our Team. Laurie's Komen Page.
You can join the Team, even if you are not able to be there the day of the race.
So, are you in?? If so, comment below or email me. Thanks!
Love you!
Laurie
Thursday, August 5, 2010
The Oncology Oracle Speaks
I was so fortunate that my oncologist had an opening first thing Monday morning. The waiting is the worst of any of these processes. The data and opinions I’ve been accumulating over the past month gave me valuable perspectives I would not have otherwise considered. It’s important to follow your gut, but equally important to know that the gut and brain are closely connected. The more relevant information I have, the more reliable my gut will be.
Here’s some of what we covered, and other tidbits I’ve collected:
What lowers my risk factors:
On the other hand, there is a significant increase in the percentage of women taking Tamoxifen that develop uterine cancer. In this 2008 study, it increased the risk 3:1 compared to women not taking Tamoxifen. Is that a risk I want to take?
And let us not forget – no test is perfect; there are always exceptions. Science and medicine are learning processes based on likely outcomes and we are the long term test subjects. For the first 3 years after I found the lump, no one thought it was even enough concern for a biopsy, based on the mammograms, ultrasounds and thermogram. Much has changed since then, but my first pathology test diagnosed the wrong type of cancer. This is not unusual. Prone to Error: Earliest Steps to Find Cancer
(Thanks to Join Our Loop for that link – stop by & visit this dedicated group.)
The bottom line we agreed upon is that I am not the best candidate for a prophylactic mastectomy AND there are no guarantees.
My insurance does not cover Dr. Hackert, but it does cover the hospital etc., so back to the drawing board and financial planning department.
What is your experience with Arimidex and/or Tamoxifen? Your thoughts on using these?
Have you been through mastectomy, reconstruction or reduction? What is your opinion?
Here’s some of what we covered, and other tidbits I’ve collected:
What lowers my risk factors:
- I did not test positive for BRCA genes
- Keep my vitamin D levels in a high zone (50-60)
- I finally got my lazy butt up and participate in a regular exercise program. VERY important, by the way.
- No family history of breast cancer. Although the majority those diagnosed have no family history.
- Normal weight (took off 20 lbs post-chemo)
- Minimal alcohol intake. Maybe 1-2 glasses of wine a week. For the most part, it just doesn’t taste as good any more.
- I have breasts.
- I’m female
- Increasing age – as of next week I’ll be over 60
- A personal history of breast cancer
- Radiation exposure – damned if you do, damned if you don’t
- Beginning your period before age 12 (I was 11)
- Beginning menopause after age 55 (I was 58)
- Postmenopausal hormone therapy: 3 months of bio-identical, but messing with nature nonetheless
- Keep exercising.
- Move to another planet
- Arimidex and similar aromatase inhibitors – these are out of the question for me; the pain was debilitating.
- Tamoxifen: I’ll be doing a lab test to determine if tamoxifen will be effective for me.
On the other hand, there is a significant increase in the percentage of women taking Tamoxifen that develop uterine cancer. In this 2008 study, it increased the risk 3:1 compared to women not taking Tamoxifen. Is that a risk I want to take?
And let us not forget – no test is perfect; there are always exceptions. Science and medicine are learning processes based on likely outcomes and we are the long term test subjects. For the first 3 years after I found the lump, no one thought it was even enough concern for a biopsy, based on the mammograms, ultrasounds and thermogram. Much has changed since then, but my first pathology test diagnosed the wrong type of cancer. This is not unusual. Prone to Error: Earliest Steps to Find Cancer
(Thanks to Join Our Loop for that link – stop by & visit this dedicated group.)
The bottom line we agreed upon is that I am not the best candidate for a prophylactic mastectomy AND there are no guarantees.
My insurance does not cover Dr. Hackert, but it does cover the hospital etc., so back to the drawing board and financial planning department.
What is your experience with Arimidex and/or Tamoxifen? Your thoughts on using these?
Have you been through mastectomy, reconstruction or reduction? What is your opinion?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Whattaya MEAN... it's not over YET??
Hahahaha... I thought I made a smooth transition into the my-life-after-cancer mode, but apparently the interim between cancer and cancer-free is filled with surprises. I graduated to a six month oncology visit schedule, and a one year MRI/mammo routine. Lest I get too comfortable... 2 weeks before the scheduled M/M, I was drying my hair when I noticed a lump under my LEFT arm.
What the hell is THAT? It was Friday, and the radiology oncologist was out of town for a long weekend. The nurse suggested I call the oncology surgeon, who gave me an appointment for early Tuesday morning, deducting a day or two of stress over what kind of growth was taking over the other side of my body.
"What the heck is THAT???" ... she mused when I lifted my arm. I guess that's a more favorable response than, "Uh oh...." She glommed my armpit with goo and did a thorough ultrasound exam. Although the lymph node was swollen, it definitely didn't look like cancer. But she wanted to make sure the upcoming mammogram and MRI took a closer look.
I'll spare the details of those exams, but had I not been there, I would have never believed it was possible to pull an armpit into a mammogram. The second ultrasound confirmed the lymph node was normal, but it would be a few days before I learned the results of the mammogram and MRI. During the wait, I was pissed that we are so vulnerable to this beast, a little fearful, and a little confident that no matter what the outcome I could anticipate what treatment would be like. Denial crept in, I'm sure. The next day the oncologist's office called to say the report came back negative. I received a letter from the radiologist to confirm that all was well.
A day later, I received a second letter from the radiologist saying I had evidence of a cyst that should be biopsied. The oncologist had not yet received that news, and that's when the confusion started. The next day I received a third letter, congratulating me because my test showed no signs of cancer! OK. WTF.
Apparently each separate test generated its own letter. The mammo & ultrasound were clear, but the MRI found a smoodge in the left breast. It was not a clear enough image for a surgical biopsy (just put me to SLEEP!!), so Dr. G ordered an MRI-guided needle biopsy. UGH! I've heard horror stories about these, and the idea of a needle in my boob just freaks me out. I was dreading it.
It was no big deal, really. I didn't feel a thing; they must have used a pediatric needle for numbing. The only weird part was that it sounded like she was using a dental drill to take the tissue samples. The area was black & blue & lumpy for a couple of weeks, and a little tender for only a few days. The results were in the next day - it was benign. Ha. I should have known better than to get too comfortable.
In celebration of the clean report, I made an appointment with a plastic surgeon (Dr. S) to talk about some cosmetic reshaping of the breasts to balance out the aftermath of all these surgeries and radiation, which has left me a bit lopsided. I'm starting to limp from the extra weight on the left. I didn't feel the need to go to the oncology plastic surgeon, and a local plastic surgeon with a long history of reconstructive procedures was recommended by friends.
The day after my 2-year cancer-versary, I was sitting in his office for a consult. I didn't expect his response, which started this roller coaster ride which I hope is starting to settle.
After telling him my history & recent events, he said he wouldn't touch my case cosmetically, and I had anyone ever talked to me about considering a double mastectomy? (He wasn't that blunt about it; that's the short version of an inspiring conversation. I have a high level of confidence in him.) He listed a few things in my history that really concerned him; they had been things that concerned me, but I was told it was OK. I think his validation of these is what gives me a sense of relief that I'm not completely paranoid.
He referred me to another surgeon for a second opinion about a mastectomy, so I made an appt. for their soonest, 7/6. What did I feel? hmmmm... a little fear that it will hurt, it will look gross for a while. An odd sense of relief that someone is leaving no stone unturned. I talked to Dave during his lunch break that day, and we are both OK with doing whatever needs to be done after the consult. But it sure looks weird to see that "double mastectomy" phrase in one of my posts.
Back in the routine... calling all the docs to transfer records, making decisions, getting everything poked and prodded. He also suggested I get that colonoscopy I've never had, and even an ultrasound on my ovaries just in case... it's good advice. What concerns me is those who still think they ARE safe, invincible, and don't get anything checked till it's too late. I guess it's time to resurrect this blog of the Reluctant Sisterhood, those of us intimately connected by this indiscriminate invader, doing our best to carry each other through to safer grounds.
A really eerie thing happened as soon as I turned on the computer that day - I received a long note (addressed to many of her friends) from a lady I met through my.crazysexylife.com, a network for cancer ... (what, Cancer-ese, cancer people? what???). She had widespread breast cancer, double reconstruct, lymphedema, and now...
Her note was about how although she's finally had a clean bill of health, does the fear ever go away? It was so timely. I wrote back and gave her the brief recap of what just happened. A minute later she called me, and said every cell of her being was vibrating with the message that I need to do this. Like a guardian angel swooping in unexpectedly to give me some perspective, we talked for about 1/2 hour about her experience, that of other friends that have gone through it.
The next day another angel swooped in - she called for a nutrition consult because we are both post-BC, and we just clicked. She invited me to a BC support group near my office, and these ladies have been an incredible resource of information on surgical options and the best folks for the job. Almost everyone there has been to the same team as I have, with high praises.
Dave & I went to see the surgeon Dr. S recommended for a consult on 7/6, and long story short, he gave what we felt was an objective overview of the pros and cons of mastectomy and reconstruction vs reduction. One subtle theme that I picked up is that there are PS (plastic surgeons) that prefer a cosmetic-based practice (and consequently a cash practice) and others that prefer an oncology/reconstruction based practice (despite the burden of insurance companies). This is not good or bad; every medical practice, including chiros, face decisions about cash vs. insurance.
Which leads me to wonder... Did the PS that referred me there have hesitation about taking my case because he is moving towards a cosmetic-based practice, and does not stay connected with the oncology network he worked with in the past? Would Dr. Hackert, who primarily does oncology-based surgery, have a different point of view? She is the PS we went to see initially (2008) when I didn't know where any of this was going.
Fortunately I'm not in a rush to do anything, so I have time to interview. I met with Dr. Hackert this past week, and went over the details of her doing a reduction. In the event that a mastectomy is the final decision, there is a process called DIEP that uses tummy fat instead of implants to create a new breast. Most women who are familiar with this process have referred me to a doctor in SF, and that is the same doctor that Dr. Hackert recommends.
According to Dr. Hackert, the person who will have the most informed view on my risk of recurrence is the oncologist (chemo doc). So that is my next stop. There is so much to weigh out in making this decision. I won't beat this dead horse, but... I didn't have any risk factors to begin with.
Whatever I need to do, I'm not freaking out about anything. 2 years ago I probably would have, but I've seen & done enough to know about successful surgeries (and you know who you are!) & am thriving wonderfully, so it's just another blip on the radar. At the time I had a feeling I was a candidate for prophylactic mastectomy, now I see where I can glean more information. I am so fortunate that the right people appear when I need them. Since there's no immediate emergency I will wait till at least November-ish before doing anything.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Sunset Fiesta Turban, Head Scarf or Chemo Hat
These colors are delicious - vibrant orange and soft yellow sweep together like a summer sunset in a light, sheer chiffon. Embroidered with jewel tones of deep blue and teal, this will look stunning with summer outfits - from crisp whites to jeans or a bathing suit. You can shop and see and other styling ideas at Titillating Turbans.
Last year at the LA Textile Show we took some time to browse through the fabric district outside. Seems 13 floors of fabric just wasn't enough for me. I saw this fabric from across the street and bought the whole bolt. Sadly, it is one-of-a-kind and I can't get any more, so if you like it grab it now!It ties beautifully into a bow, you can wrap the ends around the band to create a turban look - for Sex and the City fans - or wear the band alone as a light scarf, headband or sash belt.
In between working like a crazed elf, I'm wandering more deeply into the wonderful world of textiles. This month I'll be taking classes to update my skills in silk painting and then learning to texturize it with other fibers. A long, labor intensive process, but the possibilities are endless. I am so curious to see how it eventually ends up on my head.
I hope you are enjoying this fabulous weather! Our garden has loved the alternating rain & warm weather, and we have more blooms and figs than ever.
What are you doing this season to dust off the cobwebs (whether your house or your brain)?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Turban in Hibiscus Print, Summer Head Scarf Sets
Whether you need a chemo hat for hair loss, an easy to tie head scarf, a turban for after exercise or yoga wear, the collection at Titillating Turbans is always expanding.
You'll feel like you are strolling a Hawaiian beach in this festive pattern of hibiscus flowers on a background of turquoise and purple.
Visit here to see over 50 colors and fabrics for every occasion. Whether for yourself or a gift, this accessory will be enjoyed for many years to come.
Every 2-piece set of hat and scarf ties into more than a dozen different styles.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Arimidex - the Gift That Keeps on Giving
It's been 3 months since stopped taking Arimidex, and there are a few symptoms that linger. I haven't quite put together what aggravates the pain it left in various joints of my arm/hand, elbow and shoulder, but they come and go at what seems to be a random pattern.
So tell me, if you have stopped taking Arimidex -
12/20/13 Update
How to report side effects to the FDA
So tell me, if you have stopped taking Arimidex -
- Did you take it for the full 5 years, or have to stop early?
- If you stopped before 5 years, how long did you take it?
- Is there anyone out there that had NO side effects with Arimidex?
- How long since you stopped taking it?
- Are you still experiencing side effects?
- Have the side effects become less intense since you stopped? If so, how long did that take?
- Are you taking a different drug, and if so, what?
- If you are not taking a different drug, are you using a natural remedy?
- Did you report your reaction to Arimidex to the FDA?
12/20/13 Update
How to report side effects to the FDA
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Chow Down for the Cure?

Monday, April 12:
KFC introduces the breadless sandwich, “Double Down” two slabs of fried chicken and melted cheese, two pieces of bacon. Based on the Original Recipe, diners can gobble down 540 calories, 32 grams of fat and 1,380 milligrams of sodium.
Tuesday, April 13: Alicia @stales posts a Tweet and starts a discussion on WEGOhealth about the oxymoronic KFC/Komen partnership for “Buckets for the Cure,” and it becomes apparent that we are not the only ones fired up about this.
This promotion is a poor choice of partnering for a cause, and I agree with everything in Alicia’s excellent post. Among other things, Alicia suggests KFC make donations based on healthier meal choices purchased, and distribution of educational material during the campaign.
Click on the Komen "Breast Cancer information" link on the Buckets site, and they meekly suggest, "Maintain a healthy weight." But on the Komen site, they have a lot more to say about "Body Weight and Weight Gain:"
In two large studies, women were at increased risk of postmenopausal breast cancer if they had gained 20 or more pounds after age 18.
Losing weight after menopause may help lower risk of breast cancer. One large study found that women who lost four to 11 pounds after menopause had more than a 20 percent lower risk of breast cancer compared to women whose weight did not change.
As a health educator, this kind of mixed message for the sake of profit makes me want to scream. An extra 100 calories a day over what you need adds an extra 10 pounds a year.
Those who know better about nutrition may get angry or laugh at the absurdity of this KFC/Komen partnership, but they won't buy a bucket of fried chicken so Komen gets 50 cents.
Those that have the greatest need to learn about healthier eating can interpret this as: If Komen, "the global leader of the breast cancer movement" is involved, then fried chicken must be OK. And buying a bucket supports breast cancer research. Chow down, kids!
What could have been an invaluable opportunity for community outreach and education risks the anger of Komen supporters, and all those that fight an uphill battle against the "bigger is better" food culture.
If the Pink Buckets were filled with grilled chicken, or even Original Recipe - WITHOUT skin and breading - it would give folks a first hand experience and important lesson: that you don’t have to completely give up your favorite foods to improve your health.
Here are the facts on KFC. It would have been so easy to suggest and reward the healthier options:
Orig. Recipe Ch. Breast
without skin or breading - Cal: 150 Fat g: 2.5 Chol: 85 Sodium: 430
Grilled Ch. Breast - Cal: 190 Fat g: 6 Chol: 90 Sodium: 550
Orig. Recipe Ch. Breast - Cal: 320 Fat g: 15 Chol: 110 Sodium: 710
Spicy Crispy Ch. Breast - Cal: 420 Fat g: 25 Chol: 110 Sodium: 1250
Extra Crispy Ch. Breast - Cal: 510 Fat g: 33 Chol: 110 Sodium: 1010
What do YOU think?
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