Network News - Winter 2009/2010 (PDF 3.7Mb - Canadian Breast ...

The Friendships that CBCN Helps to Create
By Carol Ann Cole
The song says, “How do you thank
someone who has taken you from
crayons to perfume? It isn’t easy
but I’ll try.” In my case the words
could be, “How do you thank someone
who has taken you from solitude to
sisterhood? It isn’t easy but I’ll try.”
My initial exposure to other breast
cancer survivors came when I
joined CBCN over a decade ago.
Breast cancer is such a frightening
diagnosis and having others to
speak with who know, in detail,
what you are going through, how
your body may be reacting to
surgery and drugs and where you
may be in your emotional journey is
valuable beyond measure.
The picture on the cover of my
new book speaks volumes. Every
breast cancer survivor can relate to
how I was feeling in October 2007
when this picture was taken. I was
speaking at an event in Thunder
Bay and had just announced that
I was very close to celebrating my
16 years of being cancer free. As
the audience stood to show their
support I raised my arm in the air –
victory! It was not to be.
As October turned to the New Year I
found myself in the turmoil of an ugly
recurrence of breast cancer and much
of 2008 was spent facing surgery and
recovering one more time. I battled
depression for the first time – a new
experience. Many survivors came
to my aid and offered everything
they had to help me get through my
journey. They understood. Often what
I needed was the quality of quiet. They
understood. I needed information.
They understood. Many of these
women were strangers to me until I
met them through CBCN.
CBCN has come a long way since those
very early days. Women reach out
to the Network and more important
women from all over the country know
CBCN is there to listen and to help.
Because every breast cancer
survivor can relate to how I felt post
mastectomy when I went for my first
prosthetic fitting I thought I would
share one Chapter from If I Knew Then
What I Know Now with you. I welcome
your feedback www.carolanncole.com
The Fitting
Three weeks post-surgery I decided it
was time for the fitting – the dreaded
fitting that would make the entire
experience even more real. For sixteen
years I had escaped this but now could
put it off no longer.
The Toronto sky was clear except for
a bit of fog as I opened my eyes and
enjoyed my east-facing view. Maybe if
we didn’t have so much fog I could see
east all the way to home. The weather
report said it would be 20 degrees
later, a good day to be outside. I made
the call and the appointment for that
same day.
I did what I do so well when there
is something on my to-do list that
I am dreading. I dance around it. I
went to the post office. I checked out
a printing place where I could have
a book proposal copied closer to my
new home. I picked up a few groceries
(marshmallows for Jalen because he
remained hopeful that we could light
a fire and roast marshmallows on my
little balcony on the twenty-first floor).
I shopped for a new top to wear when
I went home to Nova Scotia in a couple
of weeks (maybe) and then I sat and
replied to every single e-mail in my
in-basket. I did all of this knowing
there would be one thing left on my
list – the fitting. It wouldn’t go away.
Eventually I would take the subway
to reach my destination but first I
needed to walk and bask in the warm
weather. And walk. And walk. My
plan was to visit a few shops north of
where I live. I poked in a few, bought
a birthday gift for my friend Clare
and a few things for my gift stash in
another, but as I exited the quaint
little shop I realized I hadn’t really
seen half of what I had looked at. My
mind was all over the map yet again. I
had no further interest in shopping. I
wanted only to get this over with. Not
the most positive attitude, I realize,
but I am being honest.
I tried very hard and finally was able
to totally focus on my mission – with
one exception. I saw walking towards
me a man I had once gone out with. I
can’t ever really say we dated because
our few times together were sporadic
and strange to say the least. I will call
him Bob. He was dressed in his casual
business attire with his trademark long
blond hair (I love the look of long hair
on a man) and cigarette dangling (not
such a good look on anyone). He wore
a crisp white dress shirt with the top
few buttons undone. I’m not sure I had
ever seen him in anything else. His
chosen uniform looked good on him
as always. I made an instant decision
that I did not feel well enough to stop
and do that dance that says, “My God,
how are you? It’s been so long. You
haven’t changed a bit. We must catch
up. I will call you.” Seems he made the
same decision because we passed each
8 Network News Winter 2009-10