HIIT

It's supposed to look like this:

But I didn't even come close. I think I looked more like this:

Life in the "After" means recognizing limits, and then making peace with them. I would hardly have called myself athletic prior to cancer. But in the "After" it is tempting to look over my shoulder, and lament the many losses: muscle mass? Shrunk. Endangered, even. Fat? Unwanted. Thriving, though. Finding ways to change that? A challenge to say the least.

My first attempt at HIIT was both discouraging and Hilarious. Discouraging because I learned how weak my body has become. 20 seconds of push ups, then 10 seconds of rest, repeat. Um... how about 2 push ups. And then collapse in a heap. But it was hilarious because all 4 dogs joined in. Jake piled on me first, followed by Lady. Then Sam & Harley joined and it was just a tail wagging, barking and pink kisses mess.

So I will keep trying to be that HIIT girl. Ok, well maybe not the blonde bombshell above. But my own humble version!

Date Night

Last night, hubby and I went on our FIRST DATE NIGHT post cancer treatment!

Pain usually worsens in the evening, but as evening arrived, I was almost pain free. And so I had enough energy to go out for dinner and an early movie. (Haven't done this in, oh, about 2.5 years cause I usually gulp pain meds and go to bed by 9:00 PM).

Very happy to spend time with my hubby, doing normal couple things on a lovely summer's eve.

Ask the Experts: 570 News

Did you know that the percentage of diagnosed diabetes in Canada increased by 70% between 1998 to 2008?

And it's not just an "old person" disease as my students describe adults. In this same time frame, the incidences of diagnosed diabetes doubled for those between 35 - 44 years of age. (Gulp).

I mention this because recently I was a guest on a local talk show, called "Ask the Experts." The goal was to share information about the use of FREMS (Frequency Rhythmic Electronic Modular Stimulation) to treat peripheral neuropathy (PN). Most Canadians who experience PN develop it as a result of diabetes (Diabetic Peripheral Neuropathy, or DPN). While I share how FREMS helped to treat chemotherapy induced peripheral neuropathy (CIPN), my chiropractor, Dr. Moona, also describes the impact of DPN and how FREMS has affected his diabetic patients.

I shared the link to this talk show episode on my personal Facebook page (which is not public). But given the many questions and excited response to that posting, I have decided I need to share this more widely. So here is the link which you can copy and paste below.

http://www.570news.com/audio/ask-the-experts/


If that doesn't work, go to 570 News. Look for the "Audio" link on the menu at the top of the page. Click on the "Ask the Experts" link. Click on the July 11th episode.

IF YOU HAVE FAMILY OR FRIENDS WHO ARE DIABETIC: PLEASE SHARE THIS PAGE WITH THEM. (I don't care about increasing the blog hits. But I do care about raising awareness of this treatment among folks who are struggling with the impact of diabetes and DPN).

Thanks!

26 Days Later

Twenty-six days. Ten treatments. That was all it took to undo most of the damage from chemotherapy to my peripheral nervous system.

I had no pain in my hands. And my feet? They were not completely pain free, but the improvement was unbelievable.

The best way to explain this is to follow the medication trail:

May 2013: I swallowed 18 pills a day in an effort to deaden the debilitating bone pain that had taken over.
January 2014: My doctor changed my prescription to a new medication, which meant fewer pills, but more potency in side effects. And my daily pill regimen looked like this:

Since the medication combined with the painkillers left me drowsy, groggy and processing things at the speed of a 100 year old turtle, I avoided taking them until I came home from work. At which point, I felt like this:

Not much had changed by September 2014, although I had managed to get by with 2 fewer painkillers on a good day. But I still pretty much felt like this -

Then came May 2015. The breakthrough pain episode changed my prescription like this:

The net effect?

Then came FREMS. And 26 days later, the medication trail looked like this:

The medications were the same. But the anti-nausea meds? GONE. Heavy duty pain killers? ONE was enough.

And I began to feel like this:

FREM'd

It felt like science fiction: attach 16 electrodes, 8 on each leg. Concentrate as the kinesiologist turned up the current in 2 electrodes at a time. "There." As soon as I could feel the sensation, I let him know. He dutifully recorded each level where sensation began in my legs for each electrode. Then he left me to be "FREM'd."

Each session lasted around 40 minutes; first my legs, then my arms. There was no pain involved. I simply sat and read a book during each treatment, and then I left too.

And it was true: after the first treatment, I DID notice a difference: the tingling in my hands stopped, for the first time in 2.5 years.

Still, I was skeptical: the tingling was an annoyance, and least of my concerns. I was more focused on pain relief, and that did not yield at all after session one. But I booked 9 more.

After all, what did I have to lose?

Beam me up, Scotty.

Clear

Test results came in at the end of May:

Ultrasounds: clear
MRI: clear
Bone scan: clear

Pain levels: who cares? I'm STILL IN REMISSION.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Been a while since I posted. The last 8 weeks have been a roller coaster.

May was a blur. I finally stopped and just listened to my body in an effort to shut down the pain cycles. The result was that my medication use skyrocketed. Seriously - prior to the breakthrough pain episode in April, I was on a fairly standard pain management regimen for CIPN: anti-seizure meds & off label use of an anti-depressent to shut down the tingling and deal with faint numbness. Plus a painkiller for the bone ache before bed. My family doc responded by doubling the meds and increasing the use of painkillers to its maximum dosage.

It helped. And it didn't. May was a blur because I spent it medicating the pain away, and I hardly remember anything. Daily routines involved gulping meds upon waking, and taking painkillers. Watching the clock until it was OK to take more painkillers, to manage the dull bone ache that had my body in its grip. And then going to bed, slipping into a deep sleep with troubled dreams - only to wake in disoriented pain and gulp down more painkillers. Wash, rinse, repeat: wake up, gulp meds & painkillers; watch the clock; go to bed.

I am not alone in this. One in five - 20 percent - of Canadians suffer from chronic pain. The impact?

"Three quarters of the people waiting for care at Canadian pain clinics say it interferes with their normal work life. More than half suffer from severe levels of depression. And almost 35 per cent report that they've considered suicide." (http://www.cbc.ca/news/health/chronic-pain-poorly-understood-costing-canada-billions-1.2681223)

On the one hand, I was lucky to have a doctor who believed me. She listened as I described the pain and its impact on my life. And then she acted. I am grateful for her willingness to provide support and relief. (If she hadn't, I quite easily would have slipped into a severe depression - chronic pain just wears a soul down.)

But the only options my doc offered were bleak: Long term use of painkillers, and other medications. Long term disability for the near future, and likely until I "retired." No cure in sight.

Life in the "After" of cancer treatment sometimes feels overwhelmingly difficult.