Sunday, February 16, 2020

Cancer is a Pain (Part Two)

There’s not much written in the “cancer space” about what happens AFTER chemo. Side effects, the lasting memories – physically and emotionally – that stay with you when living with cancer. For the long list of side effects that could manifest at some point in my life, coupled with side effects I currently have as a result of treatment – I needed to find coping mechanisms that would help me physically as well and emotionally survive living with cancer.

Pain can be a tricky deal. You can’t see it. It doesn’t show in blood work, on an x-ray, ultrasound, MRI, CT Scan, etc, so how do you treat it? Is it just in your head? Is it real? When I swore I could still feel my breasts even though they were no longer there, was that pain real? Sure felt like it. Sustained pain can lead to depression, anxiety, mood swings, you get the ugly picture. 

I developed pain in my left (cancer side) clavicle area post treatment. It reaches up through neck area and my shoulder and while not constant, it can be debilitating – physically, and mentally - while its hanging around. Bone scans post treatment confirmed severe arthritis in my sternum.  I also have neuropathy of my hands from the chemo. It's a constant pin-picking, tingling in my finger tips, making buttoning up clothes not only a chore, but painful. And it seems I also retained the real and terrifying anxiety which grew to fever pitches at times during treatment. So of course, when my shoulder hurts, when I'm unable to button my shirt, on days when my chest feels tight as if I'm suffocating, it affects my anxiety levels not just because of the physical pain, but also mentally because pain can be a sign that cancer may be back. Gawd. It is a vicious and unhealthy cycle that I knew I had to find ways to cope with.

As many of you know, I frequent Gilda’s Club of South Florida ( There, I have found camaraderie with others living with cancer. Just being surrounded by others who understand your journey with cancer from a first-hand perspective; to have validation for your feelings, your fears, and your hopes is some powerful stuff.  For me, Gilda’s offers an opportunity to hug, comfort, strengthen, and continue to heal my psychological side effects. It feels good to walk through the red door and be greeted by staff and volunteers who know you and who care about you and your experience at the most difficult time of your life. I encourage you to look into support groups. You will find them to be uplifting, compassionate, caring and hopeful. Not what you might think when a bunch of frightened, “some are dying, some are terrified they will joining them” sitting in a circle staring at each other, with no agenda for the evening except for what comes to top of mind of said frightened, “some are dying, some are terrified of joining them” folks, but truly, give support groups a try – your heart will grow in size and you will be pleasantly surprised.  

I have found it more difficult to finds ways to cope with the more physical souvenirs of having cancer. The fore-mentioned-clavicle issue, body parts that have been removed – not by choice but by “having no choice”- leaving behind a chest that is numb, yet very sensitive, armpits that ache most of the time because of lymph node removal but also because my chest scars reach.  Look, I could on and on, the point is rarely does “conventional” medicines touch them at peaked consistency. And for me, a sustained period of pain, can also weigh heavily on my mental state.

And so I turned to the substance I enjoyed in, let’s just say, “back in the day”………weed.

Yep, I am a proud, card-carrying member of the legal medicinal cannabis club. Legal in the state of Florida, since 2016, medical cannabis helps me cope with living with cancer. I am grateful it is legal in Florida. I recall a certain someone transporting “cookies” from an “acquaintance” across state lines for me during chemo, attempting to avoid making any eye contact with White House patrols and praying for no tire blowouts on the Mall. I can attest to the theories of weed helping with the nausea of chemo. 

Today, being able to see a doctor for a "prescription", walk into a clinic, flash my Florida Medicinal Cannabis Card, and purchase cannabis legally is a freedom in a space that otherwise is set in darkness and constant concern about "what's really in there" and over being detected. I find the THC and the CBD in cannabis provide relief from the physical and as well as from the psychological affects of living with cancer. Yep, I have effectively incorporated pot into my tool box of coping with cancer.

Look, its clear the medical community has a LONG way to go to understand how to effectively utilize cannabis in the areas of pain management (I’ll save those stories for another time). While it is a bit of the "wild, wild, west" out there, it's heartening to see increasing interest in research and in trials with medical cannabis in the areas of pain management and cancer - and many are showing great promise. If its a course of treatment available to you, there exists enough “expertise” out there if you search far enough to get started.  I understand smoking, vaping, and or utilizing oils is not for everyone. Using cannabis today is not just your "pothead" stereotype of yesteryear. Due to precise dosing and standardized growing regulations, many of us are living very controllable, responsible, adult-like lives. Without getting all political about it, I will tell you I am grateful to have found something that works for me.  If you are among the skeptical, I urge you to set aside your stereotypes and judgements - and listen to testimonies of folks who have found relief.

There will be more in this blog about this topic.

Look, this is my life. These are the cards I have been dealt. Weed and all! Onward.

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