Showing posts with label malignant brain tumor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label malignant brain tumor. Show all posts

2.15.2012

Guest Blog


Here is my guest blog, posted on www.suvivorshippartners.com

What does it mean to advocate for yourself?

It means survival.  Unfortunately, in today’s medical maze, there aren’t many successful treatments for my type of cancer.  I’m fighting a malignant brain tumor, and the replication of those nasty cells progress faster than current healing science.
According to the traditional system, my treatment plan is supposed to go something like this: brain surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, another brain surgery, maybe another type of chemo, and then an agonizing death while my body and mind degenerate.  Sound like fun?  No.  Nope, the outlook is horrible.  Is that acceptable?  No!
If your doctor doesn’t have the means to help you survive, it is your duty to look toward other options.  You have to fight to survive, which is heartbreaking because those with these death sentences are exhausted and beat down already.
At first, I believed my doctor’s words and thought that there was nothing I could do.  My very prestigious neurosurgeon and accomplished radiation oncologists both said that I could eat whatever I want.  They said I should live my life however it makes me happy.  It sounded nice.  I was set to sustain on red licorice, peanut M&M’s, sourdough bread and glorious full bodied red wines.  Yum! But, something didn’t sit right.  It just didn’t make sense that my food choices didn’t matter.  I mean, wait a minute, I had heard that you are what you eat?  If food is fueling my body then it doesn’t make sense to load up on junk.
I realized that there was so much that I didn’t know, and I decided to figure out more about what causes cancer and what feeds it.  Then, here and there, I kept hearing stories of survivors of brain cancer.  There are only few, but I realized that those few have valuable keys to survival.  That became my new goal, copying survivors.
There is so much that you can do, including supplements, diet, exercise, meditation, clinical trials, etc.  When I came out of my brain surgeries (there were two consecutive) my doctors told my family and me that I have a 1% chance of surviving this cancer.  Scary!  At least it sounded scary, but once I started researching alternative treatments I realized that I can increase my survival by several or tens of percentages.
You can not be afraid to do hard work.  You can not give up (except for once in awhile when you really need some ice cream).  Each cancer is different.  Become an expert on your diagnosis, on the treatments, on the survivors, on the diet, on the mechanisms of cancer cell division, of how the cancer feeds itself, and what the cancer cells are comprised of.  I know it’s a lot and it takes an incredible amount of energy, but that’s what friends and family are for.  Don’t be afraid to delegate.  People want to help you, they want to see you survive.  Everyone loves the underdog!  Yes, you are going to be exhausted, and sometimes you won’t want to go on, but you have to.  You need to.  You must.  You can do it!
You must be your own advocate.  If a treatment doesn’t feel right, or if the risks outweigh the benefits, you don’t have to do it.  For example, my radiation oncologist has been trying to force me into doing radiation, even though he admits that it will not extend my life and that there are very serious short and long term effects.  You are a customer in the medical system.  Your surgeon, your oncologist, your radiation oncologist, each nurse, they all work for you.  I’m not recommending that you give off an attitude because that’s just unnecessary and rude. But keep that in mind while you are in appointments.  You deserve to be treated with kindness and respect.  This is your body, your life, and your survival.
If you want to survive, and I believe that we all have the ability to do so, advocate for yourself.  It’s the biggest challenge you will ever face.  Contrary to common belief, you’re not fighting the medical world, you’re fighting yourself.  Once you stop fighting against your sadness, or disappointment of your illness, you can dust yourself off and decide that you are your own best treatment.

About Jessica Oldwyn

On April 13th, 2010 at age 29, Jessica was diagnosed with a tennis ball sized brain tumor. The classification is an infiltrating/diffuse astrocytoma (a type of glioma) tumor. Within several days she underwent a partially awake craniotomy, with a second emergency brain surgery to follow. This is her life, living with a brain tumor. Visit her website atjessicaoldwyn.blogspot.com

4.18.2010

Craniotomy, Not That Bad

I'm still sitting here playing the waiting game, which has its ups and downs. On the bright side, I get to spend the weekend with family and friends relaxing, and contemplating what a killer life I have (no pun intended). On the down side I just want them to saw open my head and dig this puppy out so that I can start recuperating.

With all the extra time on my hands I decided to start a fun new game...

Craniotomy, Not That Bad

#1. I have a very close friend whose son was born with Congenital Scoliosis. He's now almost four years old. His case is so severe that in the next 6 months to a year he will begin a series of surgeries on his spine that will occur every 6 months until he's around 16 years old. In the initial surgery he will have a rod placed at his spine, and then with every reoccurring surgery they will slightly extend the length of the rod until he's done growing. This poor little blond fella that looks like he fell off the Jerry Maquire movie case has no idea what's in store for him. His process is going to take over a decade just of surgery, let alone all of the other complications. Therefore, Craniotomy, not that bad.

#2. Another friend, Heather, has a daughter (Hayden) who survived a dresser and television falling on her skull. She was taken to the neurosurgery dept at Harborview Medical Center where a team of doctors had to brace her head, and do surgery by braille to locate a pea sized place in the dead center of Hayden's brain to relieve pressure so that she didn't die. Craniotomy, not that bad,

#3. My uncle Michael (not really an uncle, but one of my dad's best friends) shattered his femur in over 50 places back in the 70's in a mid-west snowmobiling accident. To repair his leg they placed him in traction (hooked up to a bunch of pulleys and wires, with screws placed in the bones once the pieces had been reattached) immobilized him in a hospital bed, and had his leg raised for three months while the bones fused. Wanting to be closer to his wife, they placed him in a full body cast and transferred him via hearse for 28 hours to get back to Seattle. Once in Seattle they immobilized him for another full month. Bedridden for four months. Craniotomy, not that bad.

#4. Another of my friends, Kristen, is trying to support her mother as one of her mother's best friends deals with the tragic news of a malignant brain tumor (almost certainly a death sentence, she was told). The woman is beginning to undergo chemotherapy and radiation. They don't know if she'll live. Craniotomy, not that bad.


Thanks to my friends and family for sharing their stories. There are so many situations that are much scarier, more painful, less hopeful, and more physically and emotionally taxing. We're a huge team of people on this Earth and we get through each challenge together.
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