100 Perks of Having Cancer: Plus 100 Health Tips for Surviving It (51 page)

right
. Square dancing was part of the seventh-grade cur-

riculum for phys ed, so don’t worry that it’s too hard

to learn. Search online for square dancing lessons and

events near you.

Never miss an
I Dream of Jeannie
rerun? Then you’ll

love belly dancing. You can take belly-dancing classes,

but I think the best way to learn this is with a video or

DVD in the privacy of your own home. That way you can

put on your bells and bangles and bare your belly while you meet

your exercise requirements. Go ahead . . . no one will watch . . . unless you

want them to.

If you own a Wii, there’s a great game called DanceDance Revolution.

(The cool people call it DDR.) You stand on a mat that has four squares

around you: forward, back, right, and left. By watching the screen, you have

to follow what the dancer is doing by stepping on the correct square. As

you get better, it speeds up, and when you get really good, it goes at crazy

speeds. Even though it seems like your brain is getting the workout, your

Perk #52: Rockin’ the Bandana

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body does too by getting your heart rate up by marching, jumping, and

moving your feet while you try to keep up with the dancer on the screen.

You don’t even feel like you’re working out because it’s so much fun! One

downside: it’s addictive.

Dancing has all the benefits of any other exercise, including more energy,

stronger bones, increased flexibility and strength, and a reduction in your

risk of illness. Plus it’s lots of fun!

There are so many other kinds of dancing like salsa, line dancing,

swing, or clogging. Or you can put on your favorite song and just move.

Dancing is moving, and moving is exercise. No one ever said exercise had

to be boring.

Dance your way to better health!

Perk #53

Cancer Cured Me

of My Needle/Blood Phobia

W
hen it comes to medical procedures, I have always been a bit of a wimp.

In my early school days, I was renowned for my reaction to the public

health nurse on “needle day.” With a sense of shame, I recall actually biting

a nurse and kicking a nun in the leg to escape my grade-one vaccination.

While I no longer get physically violent with medical personnel (well, hardly

ever), I have been known to get weak at the sight of blood and needles. As

you can imagine, this proved to be quite an inconvenience during my cancer

treatments. I am happy to report, however, that after being poked and prod-

ded in places where no needle should ever venture, I have toughened up

quite a bit and can now profess that I am completely cured of my needle/

blood phobia!

The true test of my newfound toughness came with my left breast

mastectomy in January 2012. I had conjured up images of how it would

be when I saw my new physique for the first time. You know how it hap-

pens in the movies: the woman gently caresses her flat chest, her lip quivers,

and silent tears flow down her face while violin music plays softly in the

background. My experience was a little different. My cousin/nurse Lil was

sitting in the room with me when I popped my head up and looked down

at my green gown to check out my flat chest for the first time.

“Jeez, Lil,” I said, “he went and took off the two of ’em !”

As it turns out, “rightie” had just slipped under my armpit, as is often

the habit of saggy, middle-aged breasts, but she was still fully intact. Lil and

I had a great giggle at my discovery. I wasn’t sure if I was up to looking at

the actual cut, but Lil is one of those old-school nurses, and she gave me

little choice in the matter. As she cleaned the incision, we counted the staples

together: One, two, three . . . twenty-nine.

“I guess I could round it up to thirty,” I said to Lil.

I 208 J

Perk #53: Cancer Cured Me of My Needle/Blood Phobia

209

“Or you could make like a man and exaggerate it up to sixty,” she

replied. We howled with laughter!

So there I was just days before my forty-fifth birthday, and my body had

been forever altered. But ya know, I was okay with that. Like many women,

I really struggled with the decision to have either a lumpectomy or a mas-

tectomy. Unlike other types of cancer, breast cancer requires so many deci-

sions by the patient: Do you want a lumpectomy or mastectomy? One breast

or two? Prosthetic or reconstruction? I just wanted the doctor to TELL me

what to do! What if I made the wrong choice? Well, “luckily” for me I did

not have much of a choice in the matter. Even though I first opted for a

lumpectomy, the cancer was so far advanced that I required a full radical

mastectomy. Of course, losing any part of the anatomy can be traumatic,

particularly when it is linked to sexuality and femininity. However, when I

look in the mirror, I don’t see a one-breasted woman. I see a strong woman

who gave a breast to have life.

If you can face cancer head-on, nothing will ever

have the power to scare you! (But if you are like

me and really dread needles, it might be a good

idea to get a port before chemo starts.)

HEALTH TIP #53

Fear Needles? Try Acupuncture

“S
o they stuck you with pins? What was

that
like?”

This is the question I got from my then

ten-year-old daughter when I came back

from seeing my acupuncturist. It’s a reason-

able question, and I have to say, while I was

not apprehensive about my first treatment,

I was curious.

210

100 Perks of Having Cancer

I was about halfway through my twenty-four week chemotherapy treat-

ment when my stomach just shut down. The thought of eating any kind of

food was just plain unappealing. (I can’t even imagine the sick, nauseous

feelings I had then, as I sit here sipping my delicious sweet potato soup

now!)

I knew that I needed to keep up my strength if I was going to make it

through another twelve weeks of this “treat”ment, and having tried all the

tricks (and drugs) from the doctors, I decided to give acupuncture a try. I

had nothing to lose, as there are no side effects to acupuncture. Nope, none.

What Is Acupuncture?

Acupuncture is an ancient Chinese method of treating a variety of condi-

tions by stimulation of certain areas along your body. These linear areas,

known as meridians, allow the “vital energy” to flow, allowing your body

to function in a healthy way.

Just like a regular doctor would assess the blood flowing through your

veins, an acupuncturist assesses the flow and distribution of vital energy

within the meridians.

If there is restricted flow in a certain area, a very thin needle (I really

shouldn’t call them that, because they’re not sharp) is inserted along the

pathway to assist in the energy flow, much like if a stream is blocked by

debris, poking a hole in it will reestablish flow. By inserting needles into

the skin at varying depths, it is possible to stimulate nerves and release hor-

mones to help that particular illness or condition.

I figured I would give it a try since millions of people use it, and it has

been around over 2,000 years . . . (
umm
, conventional Western medicine

was using leeches to treat headaches just 150 years ago . . . nuff said).

My First Visit

Being a registered nurse, I was careful about choosing an acupuncturist. I

avoided the clinics that were in the back of nail salons. I did some asking

around and I went online to look up the acupuncture centers in my area. I

found a clinic that was started by an MD and certified acupuncturist, who

graduated with honors from Emory Medical School (one of the most highly

Perk #53: Cancer Cured Me of My Needle/Blood Phobia

211

respected med schools in the United States). She headed the office, which

consisted of three other certified acupuncturists and a massage therapist.

Two of the acupuncturists were also certified Chinese herbalists. Herbalists

are trained professionals who can suggest certain plants, roots, or teas to

help with your particular problem.

I signed in as you would at any doctor’s office and I took a seat in the

waiting room. It was a regular, normal waiting room, with the local radio

station playing and out-of-date magazines on the table. (I really expected

to walk into a room with smoky incense, Far Eastern décor, and a gong in

the corner. I have to admit, I was just a little bit disappointed.)

After filling out the usual paperwork, my therapist, David, came in and

introduced himself. He was not Asian. He was from California and told me

he had been practicing for fifteen years. He had a very calming nature about

him, and I felt instantly relaxed.

He asked me all the usual health questions and about my medical his-

tory and why I was there. Then he looked at my tongue and took my pulse

in both arms.

He told me that there was a good chance he could help me with the

loss of appetite problem. He also said he could help with getting my liver

to work better (since chemo is metabolized there and the liver gets over-