Ask Your Doctor Questions.

One of the things my doctors discussed with me before I started chemotherapy was how likely it was my cancer would recur. With my particular type, uterine papillary serous carcinoma, I was told the recurrence percentage was between 40 and 50 percent if I didn't have chemo or radiation. If I chose treatment, it would be for curative purposes, dropping the possible recurrence rate to under 5 percent. The other thing they told me was that if I didn't have treatment and I did have a recurrence, I would be looking at palliative options versus curative.

Palliative, in general terms, refers to care that alleviates symptoms, whether or not there is hope of cure. It's a focus on quality of life. Making patients comfortable. Curative means able to heal or cure. Big difference.

I've been thinking about the types of things I believe patients should ask at their first oncology appointments, and why. The why is easy: no one cares about your health or treatment more than you and your loved ones. Your healthcare providers are, in a roundabout way, your employees. They're doing a job. Here are the questions I'd ask:

• What is my specific type of cancer?
• What is the stage (a description of the extent the cancer has spread)?
• What is the grade (a measure of how aggressive the cancer is)?
• What treatment are you proposing?
• Is the treatment curative, or simply palliative?
• If chemo is proposed, what specific drug regimen?

The rest of your questions will likely be based on the answers you get to these inquiries.

I was lucky to hear my doctors were proposing chemo as a curative option. I don't take it for granted. It's one of the reasons I founded Chemo Cargo. Really, the main reason.  If you haven't heard of it, you can learn more at Chemo Cargo.

When Friends Divorce, Who Gets You?

 When a friend finds that certain someone, starts dating, and introduces him or her around, you will most likely extend your friendship to the new person. What happens when they break up? After a month, it's not so big a deal. You go back to the way things were. After a decade or two of marriage, it's a lot harder. Lives and families are intertwined.

You may think that the divorce is just between the two of them, and logically you should be able to maintain friendships with both. Realistically, face it: you're part of the divorce settlement. Your name may not be on the paperwork, but it will shake out that you land on one side or the other, at least for awhile.

Those quirky things that happened between them when they were married? Not so quirky anymore. Any dysfunctions that existed in communication - either what they had with each other or how they communicated with you - are amplified. You can easily become collateral damage.

Do yourself a favor: get out of the line of fire. Unless you choose, you are in the middle. Don't be. Choose a side and let it play to whatever end there will be. It may not be fair, but life isn't fair.

photo credit: dreamstime

Selfless, Selfish, Somewhere Between

I'm pretty sure my DNA contains something that compels me to try to help people. At the same time, I'm shy and uncomfortable around anyone I don't know well. It can be a strange combination at times. Part of me wants to walk over to the elderly lady in the checkout line and help her carry her bags to her car, yet another part curls into myself and hopes I can scurry out of the store unnoticed. What I know for sure is the dichotomy of the two compulsions breeds feelings of guilt.

My dad is one of those people who will help any of his friends with any project he can. He'll lend anything he owns. He's shy, but gives freely of himself to those he knows. Growing up seeing this generosity of his time and resources on a daily basis taught me some lessons. Some were the types of life lessons you'd expect: giving has its own rewards, most people are inherently kind, and you don't need a lot of money to help others. One other lesson came from the other side of the coin: people will disappoint you. Sometimes over and over.

I do try to help others, but it's hard for me to know where the line is. When should I take a step back and start protecting myself from the people who disappoint me? Is it selfish to think along those lines? If it's just time, is it that big of a deal? If we're talking about stuff I don't get back, it's just stuff...... is it worth altering a friendship? Is it a friendship if I feel I'm only around for the other person to use? Am I able to use my thinking side over my feeling side well enough to know the difference?

I get called selfish quite often. It's funny; when I'm called that, I'm not feeling it. Most often, I'm feeling overwhelmed. You see, I'm called selfish most often in reference to my time. When I turn down invitations to social events. There's only so much of myself I can give. If I try to go beyond my limits, I end up cranky and snippy - who wants that? Is it selfish to recognize my limits and say no, knowing I may appear aloof and possibly conceited? I don't know the answers.

All I know for certain is I'm trying to find my way through this life the best way I can, and I won't always be able to please others. I'm trying not to feel guilty about that when it happens.