Health

Born To Be Wild

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Painting

I saw the painting Born To Be Wild by Norwegian artist, Sylvia Sotuyo, for the first time the day before yesterday on the NET Cancer Day Facebook page and it immediately spoke to me in a way that art seldom does. I looked at it over and over again, each time asking myself what it is about that figure that inspires me so. I even posted it as my Facebook profile picture. Why? Because I see it as a picture of me! I may not look like this to you and it isn’t what I see in the mirror, but I know it’s me!

I contacted the artist and she graciously gave me permission to share her painting here and to try to explain what it means to me, but first, let me share her description of it:

The dynamic human tree represents the strength and stamina of the tree, combined with the power and intelligence of the human being. The human tree stands proudly, well grounded to earth, and reaches towards the sky to achieve all it`s hopes and dreams…

I, too, see it as a symbol of strength and hope, but I see other things that the artist may not have had in mind. First of all, the zebra is the symbol of neuroendocrine tumours (NETS), the incurable cancer that I was diagnosed with almost two years ago. Neuroendocrine tumours are difficult to diagnose. The symptoms are usually vague and similar to more common health problems. Many family doctors have never encountered a NETS patient. When presented with symptoms like stomach pain and diarrhea, they naturally think of things like Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Crohn’s Disease or lactose intolerance. Medical students are taught “when hearing hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras.” Neuroendocrine tumours are very rare and therefore they are considered to be zebras.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve noticed zebra stripes everywhere! In recent years, the fashion world has been inundated with animal prints and the zebra is definitely a popular motif. I’ve seen zebra t-shirts, zebra leggings, zebra pjs and even zebra bras. I’ve tried on zebra jeans and a sexy looking zebra dress, but I didn’t buy either one. I’ve also seen zebra handbags and zebra luggage. One of the ladies I occasionally play golf with has a zebra golf bag. Obviously, it was the zebra stripes on the figure in Sotuya’s painting that prompted the NET Cancer Day organization to post it on their Facebook page and that initially caught my eye, but there’s more than that to my fascination with it.

Like the tree, I’m more firmly rooted to one place than I was before my diagnosis. I receive a monthly injection to alleviate the symptoms mentioned above that has to be administered by a specially trained nurse. Fortunately, I can arrange to have the injection given anywhere in Canada. In fact, plans are already in place for me to have my next one in Vancouver, but arranging to have it given outside the country would be much more complicated. There likely won’t be any more long term stints teaching English or doing missionary work overseas in my future.

I’m also firmly rooted in my faith, however. It’s my absolute confidence that my life is in God’s hands that gives me the freedom and joy that I see represented by the outstretched arms or branches of the figure in the painting. I see strength and purpose in those arms as well as exuberance.

The figure is also graceful, possessing an elegance that I would like to think is true of me. I often pray that I might be a woman of grace, one who doesn’t allow the circumstances of life to define who I am. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I fervently prayed that God would enable me to endure whatever lay ahead with grace.

As the title of the painting implies, there’s also a wildness in her. I, too, am a little bit wild at heart. It’s not a loud or out of control sort of wildness, but I believe in living life to the fullest and I’m always ready to try something new. I don’t like to follow the crowd and I don’t always see eye to eye with the people who love me. I speak my mind, but I don’t fly off the handle. I love nothing more than a hike in the wilderness or a walk on a beach and just because I’m in my 60s doesn’t mean I can’t climb a tree! Yes, I’m a little bit wild; a little bit unconventional and I think this is a picture of me!

Painting

You can see other examples of Sylvia Sotuyo’s work and even purchase prints here.

Magical Mystery Tour

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Several weeks ago, an insert appeared in our Sunday Morning church bulletin advertising the SCCN (Sedgewick Community Church of the Nazarene) Magical Mystery Tour. “Come ride the bus to our unannounced destination for a fantastic fun filled day of fellowship and food” it proclaimed. Today’s date was given, but very few other details.

I checked the calendar and the day was open. What fun! Those of you who know me well or who’ve been following my blog for very long know that I like nothing better than packing up and going somewhere. Anywhere, whether it be a day trip or a year in Japan, I’m game to go! It’s the gypsy in my blood!

At 10:30 this morning approximately 30 of us gathered in front of the church. “Where do you think we’re going?” some asked while others tried to guess. The 32 passenger County of Flagstaff community bus pulled up and we knew we’d be traveling in style. With temperatures of over 30ºC forecast, we’d definitely appreciate the air conditioning!

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I’ve always been the travel planner in our family. For me, part of the fun of traveling is the planning that usually goes into it, but today I felt like a kid climbing aboard the bus with absolutely no idea where it was going to take me! Soon we were headed north, passing vast fields of bright yellow canola in bloom. Perhaps we were going to Viking, hometown of the Sutters, one of the most famous families in NHL history. Six of the seven Sutter brothers made it to the National Hockey League in the 1970s and 80s and four of them went on to become coaches and general managers. Half an hour north of Sedgewick, Viking is also hometown to our Mystery Tour organizer. Perhaps she knew of something interesting for us to do in the small town of just over 1000 people. But no, the bus continued onward.

When we turned west on Highway 16, we began to speculate that our destination might be Vegreville, home of the world’s largest pysanka (Ukrainian Easter egg). Sure enough, though we passed by the giant egg, the bus pulled into town and stopped at the historic train station. Built in 1930, it now houses the Station Cafe where a delicious buffet of authentic Ukrainian food awaited us. After relaxing around the tables, we were given a tour of the building. Many of us decided that we’d happily move into the beautifully renovated upper story that once housed the station master’s family.

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Our second stop was, in fact, the park with the 9.4 metre high pysanka that reflects the traditional art of the many Ukrainian settlers who made this part of Alberta their home.

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A stop for ice cream in Viking on the way home rounded out our day. Though the results of my most recent glucose tests were pretty good, I am pre diabetic and I’d already indulged in a small dessert back at the train station so I knew I’d better forgo another sweet treat. Besides, after filling up on cabbage rolls, perogies and other Ukrainian delights, I wasn’t the least bit hungry!

The Magical Mystery Tour was definitely all that it promised to be; a day filled with fun, fellowship and fantastic food. In fact, some of us are hoping that a new SCCN tradition has been born!

20150711_143001photo: Doris Johnson

It’s Wink Day!

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June 18, 2015 is Wink Day! The Canadian beauty industry, through their charitable foundation, Beauty Gives Back, has been encouraging women to post pictures and videos (with the hashtag #winkday) of themselves wearing blue eyeshadow today in support of women going through the emotional trauma of the Cancer Blues. The Cancer Blues is a term, coined by Beauty Gives Back, for the emotional distress caused by cancer and its treatment and is an often ignored consequence of the disease that can affect a person’s ability to fight and thrive through the ordeal.

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For over 20 years, Beauty Gives Back has supported tens of thousands of Canadian women through the Cancer Blues with programs such as Look Good Feel Better and FacingCancer.ca. “We are a ‘feel good’ industry – colourful, sexy and fun. We use colour to make women look good and feel better every day, so no one knows more about how women feel about themselves than we do,” says the Beauty Gives Back website. “We count over 95% of Canadian women as customers in their lifetime. And we cannot, and will not, abandon those same women when they are fighting for their lives against cancer. Therefore, the mandate of Beauty Gives Back is clear, real and relevant: We dedicate ourselves to treating the emotional fallout from cancer. Using the sum total of our knowledge, experience, expertise and resources, we do what women trust and rely on us to do – to make them feel human again in the face of the ravages of cancer and its treatment. In doing so, we help restore their confidence, and the confidence of those around them, to continue fighting with conviction and living with dignity.”

That’s definitely a cause that I could get behind, especially when all it took was a bit of blue eyeshadow, a camera and social media! Since we’re visiting in Calgary, daughter, Melaina, and granddaughter, Jami-Lee, joined in the fun. Even Jami’s cat, Duncan, with his blue collar, had to get in on the action!

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In spite of dealing with two completely separate cancers over the past two years, one of them incurable, I can honestly say that, though I have, of course, faced some emotional symptoms, I have not really suffered from the Cancer Blues. I can easily understand how it could happen though. I feel blessed to have had the amazing support of family, friends and a fantastic medical team. I have the good fortune of living just two hours away from the Cross Cancer Institute in Edmonton, Alberta, a world class treatment centre that is truly dedicated to treating the whole person. A Look Good, Feel Better workshop early last year was fun and a very helpful diversion from the more serious sides of dealing with my illness, but above all, I attribute my lack of mental distress to my undying faith in God who assured me the day after I learned that I had cancer, “I’ve got this in my hands. I know what’s going on. I’m going to take care of you!”

It’s not too late to get in on the Wink Day action! Photos and videos can be posted throughout the month of June. Why not wink with us?

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Dowboy

/ edebock / 10 Comments

Scan 1

This is one of my favourite photographs, taken of my older brother, Donald, and I when I was about four months old. Isn’t he cute? He looks like a perfect child and in many ways he was, but what you can’t see is the damage that had already been done to his brain when he suffered from encephalitis as the result of having measles about 10 months before this photo was taken. No, this isn’t a rant about vaccination, but it definitely could be!

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Encephalitis is acute inflammation of the brain caused by either a viral infection or the body’s own immune system mistakenly attacking brain tissue. The most common cause is a viral infection and it occurs in approximately 1 in every 1000 cases of measles. It develops rapidly and requires immediate care; care that was not available in the small, isolated town where we lived in 1952. In fact, it was not until a few months had passed and Donald began to lose his words and exhibit other signs of brain damage that our parents realized that something was seriously wrong.

As I grew up, I came to realize that my big brother was different from other children and I loved him with a fierce and protective love that endures to this day. Though his brain injury robbed him of the ability to speak, I knew he loved me too. In fact, I remember Mom telling me how difficult it had been to discipline me when I was little because if she spanked me, Donald cried too! She also told me that before I could say his name, I called him Dowboy.

Donald has always been a gentle soul and very easy to love, but I remember one occasion when some neighbourhood boys teased me about my brother, the “retard”, a word that I have always hated with a passion. Perhaps, it was then that I learned the power of using my words. I was a timid child, known amongst my peers as a goody two-shoes, but in that moment I must have become a wild and vicious creature! I don’t remember what I said, but I dressed those boys down to such an extent that word got back to my parents about how I’d stood up for my brother, and my father speaks of it admirably to this very day!

Though I do remember my grandmother telling me more than once that I would always have to watch out for Donald, I don’t recall my parents ever making me feel that I would have to carry the burden of caring for him. Regardless, I grew up with a tremendous sense of responsibility for Donald that has remained with me through the years even though he lives a long distance from me.

With two other handicapped men, Donald lives in a fully staffed house in North Vancouver that is operated by the Community Living Society. CLS provides residential and personalized community-based support to individuals throughout the Lower Mainland of Vancouver and the Upper Fraser Valley. As a family, we are so blessed to know that Donald receives excellent, compassionate care and lives a productive and meaningful life.

In his earlier retirement years, my father was actively involved as a CLS board member and served as president of that board for several years. Until recently, he has been the primary family contact for everything to do with Donald’s care, but Dad celebrated his 92nd birthday last week and over the past couple of years, I have been gradually taking over that role. CLS is committed to working with the families of supported individuals so meetings have been scheduled when I’m in Vancouver to visit, phone calls have been made, and when necessary, paperwork shuffled by email or snail mail.

Then came this week! On Wednesday morning, I was approaching the second last green on the local golf course when my cell phone rang. It was Trudy calling; manager of Donald’s house, and a dedicated caregiver who has been involved in his life and therefore, mine, for over 30 years. She was phoning from the emergency ward to let me know that he had fallen and they were waiting for x-rays to be taken. To make a long story short, Donald had a fractured hip and underwent surgery yesterday. It has been killing me not to be there. In my head, I know there’s nothing I could do that isn’t already being done, but my heart wants to be with my Dowboy! Fortunately, one of his caregivers has been with him throughout each day since he arrived at the hospital and they have been texting me regularly with updates. The orthopaedic surgeon and the anesthetist were both in touch with my sister (a medical doctor) by phone to discuss the medical details. Today, the physiotherapists began working with Donald and they already had him standing up. A lady from his church even visited and brought him cookies! Yes, he is in good hands and, though my heart wants to be there now, I will wait until early August when I’ll be in Vancouver to help him celebrate his 65th birthday!

The best thing about pain

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I’ve often said that the best thing about pain is how good it feels when it stops! Yesterday was my first completely pain free day in the last three weeks and so far, today is going just as well.

Though I didn’t realize it at first, I was suffering a nasty reaction to the cancer treatment that I received on April 14th. The first few days after the treatment were fine; just the normal tiredness that I’d experienced after each of the previous ones. Then, I woke at about 3:30 one morning with excruciating stomach pain. I had no idea what was going on and neither did my family doctor. He ordered an x-ray and when that came back looking normal, he suggested an enema to ensure that there was no blockage anywhere. For a little while, I felt a bit better, but soon the fire in my belly was back. Pain filled days and sleepless nights followed, eventually prompting me to phone the cancer clinic and describe my symptoms to Brent, the nurse who coordinates the team that provides my care.

“I hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure we did that to you,” he told me!

Gee, thanks Brent!

Discovering that what I was experiencing was actually a fairly common reaction, especially in patients with dead and dying tumour cells in their system (that’s definitely the good part!) didn’t lessen the pain at all, but it did give me peace of mind. Brent also assured me that I should soon begin to feel better. Apparently, this kind of reaction usually occurs within a two week window following treatment and I was nearing the end of that. We discussed the fact that the lining of my stomach and intestines was likely badly inflamed and I made the decision to eat a very bland diet of apple juice, applesauce, toast, crackers, tea and broth for a few days to give my insides a chance to rest and heal. That seemed to help and sure enough, right at the two week point, things improved significantly. I was even well enough to spend a few days in Calgary celebrating two very special birthdays. Our granddaughter, Jami-Lee, had her fifth birthday on April 28 and her brother, Drew, turned seven on May 1.

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I continued to experience intermittent pain until two days ago, but that too seems to have finally passed. Obviously, all of this has made it impossible for me to begin following the dietary and exercise recommendations related to my recent pre diabetes diagnosis. I had no choice but to put that on hold until I got this under control, but I’m eating well again and I’ve just returned from a brisk 20 minute walk. That’s a far cry from the recommended 30 minutes five times a week, but it’s a start. I also felt well enough to play my first round of golf of the season yesterday!

My real hope in all of this is that the treatment has been as hard on my tumours as it has been on the rest of me! We’ll know more about that when I go for CT and PET scans on July 24. These will provide the baseline for my next phase of therapy which won’t involve another treatment until sometime in the fall. I’m very thankful for that too! If I was facing another one in just a few weeks, as I have done until now, I think I’d be tempted to slink away and hide in a deep, dark cave!

Instead, I’m going to enjoy the summer… sunshine, camping, golfing, geocaching, time with family… !

A new diagnosis!

/ edebock / 14 Comments

Yes, that’s right! Apparently two different cancers in 20 months wasn’t enough. This time I’ve been told that I’m pre diabetic.

In this regard, I’m following in the footsteps of my grandmother, my mother and my aunt. Fortunately, Nana lived to 83, Mom to 92 and my aunt is an amazingly active 91. None of them developed full blown diabetes. Hopefully, I won’t either but if I do, it’s manageable. I’ve already spoken with my doctors at the Cross Cancer Institute and they’ve assured me that it wouldn’t change anything as far as my cancer treatment is concerned.

There are 3 lifestyle changes that are usually recommended for a diabetic (or pre diabetic):

      • Lose weight. Umm… no! At 5’8″ tall and 135 to 140 pounds, I don’t have any extra weight to spare!
      • Make dietary changes. Again, not an easy one for me as we already eat an extremely healthy diet, but we met with a nurse this morning and I have a bunch of reading to do on this subject. Apparently, I don’t have to eliminate sugar. Moderation is the key. That means that I don’t have to completely cut chocolate out of my life. After all, would life without chocolate be worth living? It looks like I have a lot to learn about carbs though; which ones to choose and how much of them to eat. I might also be wise to cut out my morning glass of orange juice even though it’s almost as essential to me as most people’s first cup of coffee! A couple of common slogans for diabetics are “Don’t drink your fruit” and “Don’t drink your sugar”.
      • Exercise. Again, exercise has already been a vital part of my life, but I do admit to getting rather lax about it over the past few months. 30 minutes of aerobic exercise 5 days a week is recommended. The half hour of yoga like exercise that I do 5 mornings a week doesn’t count as it doesn’t elevate my heart rate. Sadly, golf doesn’t either, except maybe in those moments when it frustrates the heck out of me! No, it’s time to get back in the habit of going for a brisk walk every day.

 

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Well, I’d love to be curling up with a good novel this evening, but I guess I’d better start reading this stuff instead!

Milestone!

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I reached a medical milestone today!

Yesterday, I completed my initial round of four radioisotope treatments and this morning’s scans showed that my primary neuroendocrine tumour (located in my colon) is shrinking! The other four tumours appear not to have grown and there are no new ones. As a result, my cancer treatment will now go into a maintenance phase. I will continue to be treated with Lutetium-Octreotate, but instead of a treatment every nine to twelve weeks, I will now have one every six months!

While I was sitting on my hospital bed yesterday afternoon while the Lutetium was being administered via IV drip, I flipped open my new issue of Chatelaine magazine and was in for a surprise. When I read “Crashing the Cancer Club”, Jenny Charlesworth’s story of surviving cervical cancer, in the March 2015 issue, I immediately responded with a letter to the editor via email. I’d completely forgotten about that until I saw my letter in print yesterday! Here’s what it said:

Thank you for pointing out, in “Crashing the Cancer Club,” that every cancer story is different and that each of us who has cancer, or who has had it in the past, is a survivor in our own right. Since August 2013 (a misprint in the magazine says 2014), I have been diagnosed with two different cancers. One was removed by surgery followed by radiation; but the other is a rare, slow-growing cancer for which there is no cure. People have a hard time grasping the idea of a chronic cancer. The usual assumption is that patients either die of their disease or are cured, thereby becoming cancer survivors. I’ve learned to look at my situation differently. I may die of my cancer or I may die with it, but either way, I am a survivor.

It may sound silly, but I was encouraged by my own words. Written two months ago, they reminded me that though mine is an incurable disease and, barring a miracle of God, I will have it for the rest of my life, I am indeed a survivor!

Reaching today’s milestone was a great reminder of that!

 

Blogging is good for my health!

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Seven years ago, when I started blogging, my husband and I were preparing to spend a year teaching English in Japan. Following Augustine was born to share that experience with friends and family back home in Canada. I’ve always enjoyed writing so it was no surprise to me that when the year came to an end, I’d fallen in love with blogging and I wasn’t ready to let it go.

Over the years that followed, my blog became an eclectic collection of posts on a wide variety of topics including faith, family, and travel with a bit of food, fashion, fitness and even history thrown in. In essence, it chronicled our life and interests as an active retired couple.

Then came cancer!

When my first cancer was diagnosed a year and a half ago, the blog became an avenue for sharing vital information about my health with concerned friends and family around the world. I soon learned that it had an added benefit. As I dealt with the diagnosis of a second unrelated cancer, surgery, radiation, multiple tests and scans, new treatments, a clinical trial, and the emotional ups and downs that accompanied them all, I found that writing about the journey helped me process what was going on. It seemed that blogging was good for my mental health.

Now I’ve discovered that there’s actually scientific evidence to support that! Studies have shown that expressive writing leads to physical and mental health benefits such as long-term improvement in mood, stress levels and depressive symptoms. People with asthma who write have been shown to have fewer attacks than those who don’t and cancer patients who write tend to have more optimistic perspectives and improved quality of life.

So what is it about writing that makes it so good for us?

Apparently, the act of expressive writing allows people to take a step back and evaluate their lives. It can help them find meaning in a stressful event, manage their emotions better, talk to other people about the situation more easily and reach out for support more willingly. Instead of brooding or obsessing over a diagnosis or a catastrophic event, they are able to focus on moving forward. By doing so, stress levels go down and health goes up.

Remarkably, researchers found that just 15 to 20 minutes of writing three to five times over the course of a four-month study was enough to make a difference. That was good news to me. Though I try to blog more often than that, I’ve never had any desire to post every day. I’ve seen too many daily bloggers burn brightly for a short period of time then flicker and burn out. I try to post at least once a week but I’ve even fallen short of that lately.

Cancer is only one of the topics that I continue to write about. Blogging will never be a cure but it’s nice to know that really is good for my health!

Scanxiety

/ edebock / 16 Comments

Since being diagnosed with cancer almost 18 months ago, I’ve learned a lot of words that I, a self-professed word nerd, would rather not have had to know. Words like neuroendocrine tumour (I have five of them lurking inside of me) and carcinoid syndrome (a group of symptoms linked to the excess hormones released by the type of neuroendocrine tumour that I have). I could bore you with several others but the word that best describes my life the past few weeks is scanxiety.

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Scan + Anxiety = Scanxiety

Though my cancer is incurable, I go for a treatment about once every ten to twelve weeks that is designed to keep it from growing and spreading. I am injected with Lutetium-177, a radioactive therapy that adheres to specific receptor cells in my tumours and destroys them. The morning after each treatment, I have a full body scan that shows us exactly what has been happening with the disease since the previous treatment. Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long for the results. I meet with a doctor immediately afterward to view the pictures and talk about what they show.

For the most part, I’ve been at peace and have approached each treatment and scan without a lot of anxiety but this time was different. Since my last treatment in mid November, I’ve been experiencing intermittent stomach pains. They’re short-lived, lasting only a few minutes. It’s easy to second guess every ache or twinge and wonder if it’s related to the cancer but this was more than that. Stomach pain is one of the most common symptoms of carcinoid syndrome and one I’d experienced prior to diagnosis. I began to wonder if this was a sign that the cancer was growing or spreading.

Worry often begins as a little thing but it seems to feed on itself. Soon I was carrying a heavy burden of anxiety. It continued to grow until I was quite sure that I would hear bad news when I went for this week’s treatment and scan.

Then, on Tuesday night as I was brushing my teeth and preparing for bed, I heard the Lord say, “It’s going to be okay!” Oh, it wasn’t a booming voice thundering through the ceiling of our tiny ensuite bathroom. It wasn’t an audible voice at all but it might as well have been. I knew without a doubt that it was God speaking to my heart. He even said it several times. “It’s going to be okay!” I walked out of the bathroom feeling like the world had been lifted off my shoulders, crawled into bed and had a great sleep. Then, the next morning, I climbed out of bed, picked up the heavy load of anxiety and put it squarely back on my shoulders!

As we drove to Edmonton for my treatment and throughout the hours that followed, I tried to tell myself that everything was going to be okay, but I kept hearing the other voice, the one that said, “Are you sure it was God that you heard? It wasn’t God, it was only your own wishful thinking! You were right in the first place; the news is going to be bad!” Foolishly, I listened and my anxiety grew.

I was thankful for the visits that kept me sane that evening. First, an acquaintance from years gone by that I’ve recently reconnected with. We could have talked for hours! Then, my dear hubby who has walked every step of this cancer journey with me. I was also thankful that the treatment had made me tired enough to sleep.

The next morning, I prayed for the entire half hour or so that I was being scanned and then it was time to find out which voice I should have listened to. I walked into the consultation room where Dr. Sandy McEwan, head of the neuroendocrine tumour clinic at the Cross Cancer Institute, and Dr. Dean Ruether, leader of the provincial endocrine tumour program, sat waiting with smiles on their faces and I heard the words I’d been longing to hear, “Everything’s okay! There’s been no change.”

My cancer is stable! I can relax until mid April when we go through the whole thing again, hopefully without as much scanxiety! Oh, there are still the stomach pains to deal with but I’m even wondering if they will subside now that the burden of anxiety has been lifted. I’m going to be monitoring their frequency and intensity for the next few weeks to see if they’re actually lessening, as I think they may have been. If not, the solution might be as simple as increasing my monthly dose of Sandostatin which controls the carcinoid symptoms or as complicated as surgery to remove the primary tumour from my colon.

For now, I’m simply going to relax and give thanks to the One whose voice I should have listened to!

World Cancer Day 2015

/ edebock / 7 Comments

World Cancer Day

When I first learned that today is World Cancer Day, a day in which the world comes together in unity in support of the global fight against cancer, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Do we really need an awareness day for everything? After all, isn’t everyone already aware of the devastation brought about by this dreadful family of diseases? Surely everybody has been touched by it in some manner. And what good does a day do anyway?

Cynical? Yes. Grouchy? Yup, that too! Perhaps my reaction has more to do with the fact that I’m resting on a heating pad because I wrenched my back yesterday than it does with whether or not we need a Cancer Day. It might also be related to the fact that I have a treatment next week followed by a scan that will tell us whether or not there has been any change in my own cancer. The days leading up to these scans are always a bit nerve wracking so I’d just as soon avoid the topic of cancer altogether today.

I’ve decided not to do that, however. The Lord has given me a voice (or in this case, a keyboard) and the least I can do is lend it to such a worthy cause. There’s really nothing that I can say about cancer that hasn’t already been said, but let’s begin with some alarming statistics:

  • Cancer is a leading cause of death worldwide and the leading cause among Canadians.
  • An estimated 191,300 Canadians were diagnosed with cancer in 2014 – 97,700 men and 93,600 women.
  • About 76,600 Canadians are estimated to have died of cancer in 2014 – 40,000 men and 36,600 women.
  • 45% of men and 41% of women will develop some form of cancer in their lifetime.
  • On average, 524 Canadians are diagnosed with cancer every day.
  • On average, 210 Canadians die of cancer every day.
  • About 30% of all cancer deaths are due to five leading behavioral and dietary risks: obesity, low fruit and vegetable intake, lack of physical activity, tobacco use, and alcohol use.
  • More than 60% of all new cases each year occur in Africa, Asia and Central and South America which account for 70% of the world’s cancer deaths.
  • Deaths from cancer worldwide are projected to continue rising, with an estimated 13.1 million deaths in 2030. I suspect that this is, in part, related to the fact that life expectancies are also rising.

Despite these gloomy numbers, cancer survival rates have doubled in the last 40 years. Awareness is making a difference!

The theme for World Cancer Day 2015 is “Not Beyond Us”. This year, the campaign is focusing on four key areas: choosing healthy lives, delivering early detection, achieving treatment for all, and maximizing quality of life. It takes a positive approach to the fight against cancer by highlighting new treatments and solutions that are within reach.

Today is World Cancer Day but the fight against cancer takes place every day. It takes place in research labs around the world but it also takes place all around you. It takes place in that home where a mother, father or child is fighting for life. It takes place in the hospitals and clinics where they receive treatment. It takes place in classrooms where good health habits are being taught and it takes place in communities, large and small, where fundraisers are held to benefit everything from individual patients to global research.

What will you do to make a difference in the fight against cancer? Will you make a donation, offer to drive an acquaintance to an appointment, or drop off a meal for the family when you know that Mom has had a treatment? Whatever you choose to do, you can make a difference!