How Therapy Helped Me During My Breast Cancer Journey

Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it. -Helen Keller

   I have been in therapy, off and on, ever since I was about 12 years old because besides coming from a dysfunctional family, I've also suffered abuse from others outside of my family and endured several difficult situations in which I had to struggle to survive. Some of it was racial, because I'm an African-American female, and some of it was like a reenactment of the unsupportive and brutal childhood I lived through. In 2003, I was the target of a stalker while working as a Circulation Page at the Santa Monica Library; the experience left me with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD.  PTSD is "a set of emotional problems that can occur after someone has experienced a terrible, stressful life event".  I also have an ulcer and lupus. Throughout all of this I tried to function enough to work, go to school and conduct my life.
   Just when I thought I had enough on my plate to deal with I was diagnosed with Stage II A Breast Cancer in 2010. I sank into a deep depression following my first chemo treatment due to a low blood count that caused my Oncologist to check me into the Neupogen ward of the hospital. Once there I was told by the doctors that I had to withdraw from my classes, couldn't work or go out in public since my immune system wasn't strong enough. During my three year journey with breast cancer both my ulcer and lupus have given me so many complications I had quite a few setbacks causing further depression. Once, when my general practitioner visited me in the hospital, she noticed how down I seemed so she prescribed Zoloft and told me to make an appointment with a therapist.
   Following her suggestion, as soon as I could go out in public, I attended six counseling sessions at Cancer Support Community-Benjamin Center, and other longer term sessions elsewhere. In addition to the counseling I also started going to CSC-BC's Writing Group and the "Cancer and Creativity" art therapy group in Santa Monica. To sum up all of my therapy treatments, thus far, they've helped me start over with cancer as an impetus. I'm learning how to finally seek out supportive environments and relationships, for the first time in my life, and use my sessions as a place to not only express anger and frustration about my past but about cancer, too. I can also clear my head enough to deal with all of the decisions I've had to make regarding my health and life right now without distractions.
   My challenge with cancer has also been harder because of my PTSD since cancer has just been one more "terrible event that occurred to me that I didn't choose or want.  The difference with the therapy I'm now getting, as opposed to my previous experiences, is it deals with PTSD directly and shows me a way that I can "seek safety" by taking care of myself physically and emotionally. I've continued asking for help when I need it, use community resources, and participate in healthy activities (e.g., reading, writing and tap dancing) to relax and relieve stress on a daily basis. Even though one of the most difficult things was for me to admit I needed help and see my therapists and others as allies, it was the most useful tool I've learned. I was so used to putting on a brave front that I often became overwhelmed.  Their advice to "stop and listen to my body" helped me more often than not.
   Two problems I constantly deal with, as a person with PTSD going through the cancer journey, are how to establish boundaries and not respond to triggers. Previously I just accepted dramatic situations as a part of my life but ever since I got cancer they've caused me so much  stress so I've had to limit the amount of drama in my life. With therapy, I've learned how to detach from unhealthy relationships and walk away from drama.
   Today I'm in the post-cancer drug phase of my journey and from where I currently sit my future's still a little hazy but I know with continued therapy it'll become clearer.

People with Medicare and the Health Insurance Marketplace

Frequently Asked Questions

Posted by by Michael Grodsky, Artist Insurance Services.

HOW WILL THE HEALTH INSURANCE MARKETPLACE THAT STARTS IN 2014 AFFECT MY MEDICARE COVERAGE? 

The Health Insurance Marketplace is designed to help people who don’t have any health insurance. You have health insurance through Medicare. The Marketplace won’t have any effect on your Medicare coverage. 

Your Medicare benefits aren’t changing. No matter how you get Medicare, whether through Original Medicare or a Medicare Advantage Plan, you’ll still have the same benefits and security you have now, and you won’t have to make any changes. 

The Marketplace provides new health insurance options for many Americans. If you have family and friends who don’t have health insurance, tell them to visit HealthCare.gov to learn more about their options. 

DO I NEED TO DO ANYTHING WITH MARKETPLACE PLANS DURING MEDICARE OPEN ENROLLMENT (OCTOBER 15 – DECEMBER 7, 2013)?

Medicare Open Enrollment (October 15 – December 7, 2013) is the time when all people with Medicare are encouraged to review their current health and prescription drug coverage, including any changes in costs, coverage and benefits that will take effect next year. If you want to change your coverage for next year, this is the time to do it. If you’re satisfied that your current coverage will continue to meet your needs for next year, you don’t need to do anything. For more information on Medicare Open Enrollment, visit Medicare.gov or call 1-800-MEDICARE.

NOTE: The Health Insurance Marketplace Open Enrollment period (October 1, 2013 to March 31, 2014) overlaps with the Medicare Open Enrollment period (October 15 – December 7, 2013). Therefore, people with Medicare who are looking to make Medicare coverage changes should make sure that they are reviewing Medicare plans and not Marketplace options.

WHAT SHOULD I DO IF I’M CONTACTED ABOUT SIGNING UP FOR A HEALTH PLAN? „„ 

• The Medicare open enrollment period is a time when there’s a higher risk for fraudulent activities.
• It’s against the law for someone who knows that you have Medicare to sell you a Marketplace plan.
• DO NOT share your Medicare number or other personal information with anyone who knocks on your door or contacts you uninvited to sell you a health plan.
• Senior Medicare Patrol programs are teaching people with Medicare how to detect and report fraud, and protect themselves from fraudulent activity and identity theft.
• To learn more about health care fraud and ways to protect against it, visit StopMedicareFraud.gov or the Senior Medicare Patrol (SMP) program in your area (locate your SMP at SMPresource.org). 

If you need help with your Medicare or health insurance, RSVP for a monthly Health Insurance 101 drop in session at CSC, or contact Michael Grodsky.

---

Michael Grodsky is owner of Artist Insurance Services (www.artist911.com), providing employee benefits for California arts and cultural organizations, and insurance for individuals & families. 

An Accredited Investment Fiduciary, he serves on the board of Side Street Projects (www.sidestreet.org), a nonprofit artist-run organization. Michael is also an insurance and financial planning specialist for GYST (www.gyst-ink.com), an company providing information and technology solutions for artists by artists.

At the Cancer Support Community, Benjamin Center (Santa Monica, CA), Michael hosts a monthly educational hour for people wishing to decipher and understand their options for Medicare and health insurance.




Artist Insurance Services
Michael Grodsky, AIF
phone: (323) 293-6800
email: michael@artist911.com
CA insurance license 0F43491

Dirty Bingo 2013: Check out these photos!

Don't Say This to a Cancer Patient

 This post was originally posted in the July 17, 2013 of the The Huffington Post.  By Dan Duffy who is a Filmmaker & Co-founder, The Half Fund.


Eight years ago, I was working for a local video production company assigned with the task of telling the stories of parents who lived through the unimaginable pain of having a baby die in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, or NICU, at St. Louis Children's Hospital. What made this such an arduous feat was the fact that both my wife, Stephanie, and my editor, Megan, were pregnant at the time. It was a surreal experience in the editing room every day. Meghan and I would put together a series of shots, and then have to excuse ourselves at various times to cry.

And I have to tell you, it turned me into a raving lunatic at home with my poor wife. "Can I do this? Let me do this! Don't worry about lifting that, I'll get it! Can I get you anything? Do you have any cravings? Would you like a brownie? How's everything feeling down there? Do you need a blanket? Would you like to watch a movie? Would you like me to make a movie for you to watch? Are you out of prenatal vitamins? Do you want me to..."

SLAP

"Okay, never mind then."

I was saying all of the wrong things, and I didn't even realize it. In fact, it took me re-watching an interview we did for the project to finally see the light. We had interviewed this couple who told the harrowing story of how their baby died, and how the only time they were able to hold him without tubes and wires was in the few minutes after he had actually passed. They washed his hair and dressed him for the last time.

I still think of that moment literally every single time I wash either of our boys hair while taking a bath or shower. A few times I've even had to excuse myself right in the middle of lathering them up.
But the next thing that this lady said really shook me to my core: "And then people would say to me 'At least he's not in pain,' or 'At least he's in a better place.' No...a better place is in my arms. There is no 'at least.'"

The last blog I wrote dealt with people who get mad at God during cancer. Well I didn't quite realize the crap-storm that would follow from a fair amount of people. One that really struck me came from a woman who read our blog through the Stupid Cancer Facebook page. In a nutshell, it read something like, "I hate it when people say stuff like 'God doesn't give you a cross more than you can bear.'"
And all of a sudden, "There is no 'at least'" came flooding back. With that in mind, I want to share a few thoughts with those of us who are either friends or loved ones of cancer patients or caregivers.
For starters, we know that you love us, care for us, and want to comfort us, and we love and adore you for it, and are extremely grateful for your compassion and kindness. With that said, we will internally, and sometimes externally, tear you a new anus for saying any of the following platitudes.

1. "This may be hard to hear, but..." Going through cancer, life is beyond hard enough. Unless you've gone through it, it's incredibly hard to empathize with its level of "suck." Don't make it any harder. Which leads directly into...

2. "I can relate." Unless you have gone through chemo, radiation, and a ball (or other part) removal, it is almost impossible to be able to physically relate. Emotionally, maybe. Physically, meh. The odd thing is that people that have gone through this never, ever say "I can relate," or "I know what you're going through," and the reason is simple: if they do relate, story swapping starts. "You lost a breast and part of your jaw? That is awful. I lost my lower leg and now my heel is my knee. And don't get me started on those damn Pet Scans. Catheter, my ass!"

3. "This is part of God's bigger plan." If you want a cancer patient who loves God to start hating God, say this to said cancer patient. If he or she is not mad at God before this sentence is uttered, he or she is pretty pissed off now. "Wait, you think God did this? What a jacksauce!" Oh, and for an ever higher state of anger, as I said earlier:

4. "God doesn't give you a cross you can't bear." It takes hindsight to understand the higher purpose if that is what you are looking for. You don't stand in a burning building or fend off sharks while stranded in the ocean and think, "Well, this is all happening for a reason." You extricate yourself from the situation, and then you reflect...if you're still alive, that is.

And I will say this: at some point during the battle, God-fearing or not, we all have a cross more than we can bear. It's only when we have it that our limits are tested, broken, redefined and rebuilt. Every single one of us have, at some point, given in. I recently talked with an absolute powerhouse named Dr. Sheri Phillips, who is the national spokesperson for the Komen "3 Day Walk for the Cure." She told me about one night while battling breast cancer, she started feeling massive tightness in her chest. Instead of calling an ambulance thinking she was having a heart attack, she went to sleep, thinking "If this is how I'm going out, so be it, because God, I'm just so tired of fighting." And when she woke up, her limits were tested... broken... redefined... and would eventually be rebuilt.

HOWEVER...

To cancer patients and caregivers, you should not get mad when you hear these words coming from anyone: "I'm sorry you're going through this."

Lots of us try to throw those words back at the folks who say it. "Why are you sorry?" The reason people say it is simple: it's the right thing to say. It doesn't matter if it is reactionary. It's what should be said. It's not pity; it's love, affection, concern, or at a minimum...being polite.
 
The argument is "I'm sorry" is used as often as "Please" and "Thank you," and people have said, "They're just throw-away words." Well the next time you find them as "throw-away," have someone refuse to keep a door open for you at the mall, or hand someone a salt-shaker at the table and not receive a "thank you." Or my personal vexation...let someone into your lane, and then have them not wave.

"I'm sorry" is a polite way of saying "I don't know what you're going through because I can't quite relate, but it hurts my heart to know that you're suffering."

"I'm sorry" is good for casual friends, acquaintances, and even strangers. But if you are utterly close to someone battling, there is one sure thing you can say to make them feel even a shred of a whiff of a modicum of better:

"I will be here for you in any way you need, in any way I can."

And that's it. Period. Finito Mussolini.

So now that you know this, it's important for patients and caregivers to not be afraid to gently tell your loved ones where they can stick their platitudes, while also expressing gratitude for the fact that they want to make you feel better, even if for only a second or two. It is up to us to teach them, no matter how hard it might be to say.

Because in the end, by you being the a-hole, you're helping them to not come off like an a-hole. And no one likes being the a-hole...not even the a-hole.

Discover more at www.thehalffund.org


To view original document go to: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dan-duffy/what-not-to-say-to-a-canc_b_3578732.html

When Your Husband Has Cancer You May Have to Lie

This post was originally posted in the July 22, 2013 of the The Huffington Post.  By Judy Silk.  Judy Silk is a stand up comic, freelance writer and blogger at judemablogma.blogspot.com. A California native, she requires little water.

Cancer is everywhere. It's probably just a function of my age (56), but I seem to know way too many people, close ones, who are affected.

My husband for one. He is my second husband, and the love of my life. We both needed to be divorced to find our way to each other, and consider it to have been beshert (the Yiddish word for "meant to be"). We got married with our children on a family cruise to Alaska. One year later, he was diagnosed with colon cancer. I've had to deal with that. I've had to be devastated, crushed, strong, hopeful and cheerful. My rabbi said to me early on, "Don't go to the funeral today," and I've taken that to heart. We live each day fully, lovingly and gratefully. But his diagnosis is terminal. Short of a miracle, that is our plight.

I was motivated to write this because I have known an overwhelming outpouring of support, concern and offers of help and love. I feel like I want to put a precision to these offers, and to the reality of what living with a terminal loved one entails. We sometimes want to dance around the fine points, but I'm hoping it would serve everyone well if I could articulate some details. After all, I want help and I know you want to give it. Here are some things you might want to consider if you know someone with cancer.

1. Accept that I am going to have to lie to you. When you ask, "How's he doing?" accept that it's in your and my best interest for me to be non-specific. So I have to say, "He's doing okay," and leave it at that. We can then be appreciative that you asked, and you can be thankful to not know more. They say the devil is in the details.

2. Don't tell us to give up sugar. I know you mean well with your solutions and alternative treatments. You want to share and provide an opportunity to do what no medical science can do, but you're also telling a dying man that he should spend his last remaining days, months or years torturing himself for NO REASON. At this point, we look at every day like a Last Supper. And I encourage him to do ANYTHING HE WANTS. We don't give up hope. Never. But I want him to have all pleasure, all indulgence. I want him to have the greatest joy he's ever had. Can you see why when you say, "Give up sugar and dairy and you'll be cured," it comes across like "If you don't deprive yourself, you are therefore responsible for killing yourself?" It's a really ugly notion and not valid in his case. His cancer is wide-spread. I shouldn't have to explain this to you.

3. When you ask what you can do for us, be ready for it to be something other than a casserole. Because what really helps are small things. Going to Trader Joe's? Give me a call. Nine times out of 10, I won't need it, but this might be the 10th time that I do. If you have kids my daughter's age, and you're going to a movie, maybe you could invite her? I don't mean for you to invent activities, and certainly not every week. I wouldn't want my daughter to think I'm getting rid of her, but it makes me feel less like I'm imposing if the invitation comes from you rather than me asking.

4. Call and invite me to kvetch. I may not, but I need some irrational venting. For me to complain about the cancer is futile. But that doesn't mean that I don't harbor anger and frustration in my bloodstream. So maybe help me by allowing me to unload it on some unsuspecting target, like say, a neighbor who has perpetrated a slight insult upon me. If I can heap my scorn on that deflective victim, it helps unravel the hurt.

5. At a certain point, families like ours do need a little extra cooking help. Not an onslaught (we don't have a big enough freezer), and not a schedule -- we're not to that point -- but occasionally. So you might ask if I have a recipe you could make, or if you're making some killer wild-rice salad, offer to bring us a quart? That kind of thing. But ask first. When I just get random quarts of foods, it eerily reminds me of being at the end point, and I don't want that.

6. Give me a coupon for a favor. Since I'm working, raising a teenager, still parenting a college kid and caring for an elderly widowed Mom who lives an hour away, I miss a lot. Things that occur to me that are helpful would be: offering to drive down to a pharmacy across town to pick up our increasing cornucopia of meds; offering to drive my teenager to an appointment or activity; having your kid offer to walk the dogs for us. Maybe if you're going out to dinner, see if you can pick something up for us. Even if we get it after we've had dinner, we may like to have it the next day. That kind of thing.

The amazing thing about this whole cancer experience has been the extreme outpouring of support from our friends and relatives. Everyone says, "If there's anything I can do, please let me know." But it's hard to be in the position of repeatedly asking for help. As primary caretaker, I don't want to look or be pathetically needy. I know that in my heart it makes people feel good to help out. It would for me. This list is just a guideline that might make it easier for us both to band together to support the one who ultimately needs it, the one who is no longer in the position to be too proud to ask for help. It allows me to acknowledge that I have more on my plate than I can handle sometimes, and I hope it's a good road map for us to work together to support the whole.

Thanks mostly for listening. Oh, and I have a really good recipe for paella. (Too much?)


To view original document go to: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/judy-silk/tips-for-helping-families-affected-by-cancer_b_3629082.html?utm_hp_ref=email_share

Dressing Up and Going Out

Victoria Moore is a writer and CSC member.

   I love doing makeovers. If that seems strange coming from someone who's been through Stage II Breast Cancer, it might be if you didn't know how it helped me get through my cancer journey.  Not only did it allow me to focus in a more positive way, it also gave me the chance to rejuvenate myself with the skills I had learned from my past experiences in retail. Equipped with every fashion magazine I could get my hands on, I studied fashion just like I had done before as a Fashion Merchandising student at CSULA. But this time I was doing research on my own since I couldn't afford to get a professional makeover every time I needed one.

 Now that I'm on the post-cancer drug part of my cancer experience, I'm faced with new challenges. My primary dilemma is how to psychologically prepare myself for a world where I have to consider permanent scarring, a prosthetic bra and budgetary restrictions. Despite all of my problems, I still want to look stylish and stay in the fashion game.

   While doing internet research for this blog, I came across an article "Breast Cancer Survivor: Fashion Hints After Your Mastectomy," reviewed by Charlotte E. Grayson Mathis, M.D., where Mary McCabe, RN, Director of the Cancer Survivorship program at Memorial Sloan Kettering Center in New York said, "Everyone needs to reassess their personal style after breast cancer."

   After reading it, I understood it to mean that I'd have to figure out how my clothes could express who I am today instead of who I was before my diagnosis. To do this, I started broadening my fashion research and including the internet. My favorite online sources are tokyofashion.com, Ivey Abbitz, Wasteland, Nasty Gal and Pinterest. While doing my research, I was able to compile my own magazine clip file for inspiration. It didn’t matter if I selected a fashion layout from "Elle" that featured a goth/romantic look accessorized with Victoriana from 2013 or an 2010 article from “Vogue” about pearls, because I was creating a fashion story that could stimulate my imagination.

    Lately I've been influenced by a Japanese style called "Dolly Kei" which is a "vintage-inspired fairy tale world" created by a store called "Grimoire." It consists of antique dresses, decorative hosiery, elaborate hairstyles decorated with ribbons, flowers and other props, pearls, antique gold necklaces and platforms or oxford shoes. Its femininity and use of flea market clothing is what appealed to me the most. My personal style includes the use of girly and feminine elements and the incorporation of second-hand and vintage clothing with modern pieces. I have been a collector and a regular thrift store shopper for many years now, so I've amassed an interesting mix of styles that I can go to whenever my wardrobe needs a boost.

   After studying 150 photos of the "Dolly Kei" event in Japan on Facebook, I started to resolve some my problems and even felt encouraged and hopeful. I looked at myself as a new person - I was still capable of taking style chances and was able express myself in multiple ways. I now feel more positive about the future and even look forward to getting up and getting dressed every day.

 

 

THE PHUKET LIST OR TEN THINGS I'M JUST AS HAPPY TO NEVER DO BEFORE I DIE

This post was originally posted in the October 7, 2011 The Huffington Post.  By Judy Silk.  Judy Silk is a stand up comic, freelance writer and blogger at judemablogma.blogspot.com. A California native, she requires little water.

We are all influenced by pop culture. Who didn't want to go out and adopt a homeless football player after seeing The Blind Side? And how many of you got your yellow labs after seeing Marley and Me?

It was no different with the wonderful film, The Bucket List, starring those icons of inspiration, Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. They portray two old guys facing terminal illnesses who goad each other into accomplishing some long held fantasies as they stare down that long tunnel with the white light at the end. It inspired lots of people to do the same, but to not wait till staring down the barrel of termination. There are now scores of books you can read in case you can't figure out how to make your own Bucket List; 1001 places to visit before you die, books to read, foods to eat, movies to see, horror movies to see, etc.

Mass trends inspire me sometimes. But just as easily, I can get contrarily inspired by what I see as the mindlessness of trend following. I was therefore inspired during one of my frequent visits to insomnialand to create my own list. Introducing The Phuket List. 10 incredible things I'll be just as happy to never do before I die.

1. Go to Phuket (Thailand)
Once a typhoon destination, always a risk of being a typhoon destination again. I get that it's exotic, and gorgeous, and the culture is amazing. But whoever said that lightning doesn't strike twice was being naively optimistic. So, I'll have to get my beach on in Hawaii. I know a typhoon could hit there too, but somehow it feels safer.

2. Trek to Nepal
I get altitude sickness. Enough said.

3. Ski Down the Matterhorn
I don't like going down hill fast. I don't like knowing that five-year-olds can snow plough, but I can't. If stopping weren't an issue, I imagine the whooshing and the gliding part would be enjoyable. But stopping is an issue, so the whooshing and the gliding part are more than a little terrifying. Besides that, there's the schlepping of the skis and the poles, and the loading on of layers, and the sweating, and the shedding of those layers, and the nose running, and the crowds. And, does anyone look graceful walking in ski boots? I find the Matterhorn at Disneyland thrilling enough. That snow isn't even cold.

4. Backpack Across Asia
Well for one thing, Asia is a large continent. For another, I'm not a big fan of camping altogether. Truth be told, I'm not so fond of sunshine or being all out in nature. So, carrying your food, your housing, your bathroom, your water, and your creature comforts has a cumulative negative effect on my mood. I think there's a reason we evolved into houses with walls. Separating from the elements is civilizational progress. I would hike between huts if they came with beds, flush toilets and food, but where's that going to happen?

5. Travel Anywhere Without Flush Toilets
I thought about giving an example of why this is so, but it grosses me out so much, I just couldn't.
 
6. Walk Up The Eiffel Tower 
 What happened, did the elevators break down? 

7. Skydive or Bungee Jump
As much as I like speed, and the wind rushing through my hair and all that, here's what I know: The instant both feet left the platform, I would have a heart attack, and feel myself dying in the slow, long 5 seconds of the plunge. I would however watch others jumping.

8. Have a Drink with the President
As much as I love this President, there's just no way it would turn out well. I would always know that I was nervous, and he was just being polite, and it would be awkward, and I would probably have huge regrets afterwards for all the things I could have said or asked but didn't.

9. Swim with Sharks
I've probably already done this. I think that by doing it without knowing it is all I can hope for. If I'd been aware of it at the time, I'm sure they would have smelled my fear and consumed me immediately. And even though I've read The Worst Case Scenario Handbook, I'm still confused as to whether you are supposed to defend yourself by hitting them in the snout or the eye. So, better I should focus on a dolphin or sea turtle instead.

10. Finish This List
I think you get the idea.

In closing, I wouldn't want you to think I'm against goal setting, or planning challenging adventures. It's just that I know what my parameters of comfort are, and will feel just as accomplished if I honor those while I live my life before I die.


To view original document go to: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/judy-silk/the-phucket-list-or-ten-t_b_1000491.html?