Second Mona Lisa Touch Treatment

Yesterday was my second round of laser treatment for vaginal atrophy. The procedure was much like the first but I was a lot more relaxed now that I’d been through the whole routine before.

The doctor asked about my response to the first treatment. There’s no doubt that I’ve had good results. I’m much less dry and a lot more comfortable. I’m having what I think of as the toothache response, where you don’t appreciate how much something was bothering you until you find relief.

The observable differences after the first treatment included an end to leaking following urination. For me, this was enough to justify the cost, but the benefits included better vaginal lubrication and relief from the residual tension I hadn’t noticed my body had been holding in response to feeling like I had sand caught in my swimmers.

I was surprised to notice that having better vaginal lubrication also improved my libido. I suspect that my body, recognising that intercourse was likely to be painful, had shut down whatever part of the system makes me interested in sex. I also made the observation that my mood generally was much better. I had underestimated the impact of a poorly functioning vagina on my emotional state.

For the second treatment the doctor spent a bit more time on the entrance to my vagina and to the exterior labia. This is more uncomfortable than the internal treatment due to the increased nerve endings in this part of the body. I commented that the pain level was similar to having hair removed using wax strips and the doctor replied that this was a common observation. It stings, but not for long.

Post treatment I was advised to use sorbolene externally to reduce stinging during urination. I was very glad that I’d purchased some on the way home because ‘stinging’ turned out to be a painful burning sensation. The sorbolene relieved it instantly. If you’re having this treatment then it would be worth buying some in advance. I’d recommend finding plain sorbolene in a pump pack and avoiding anything with perfume or additives as this could irritate sensitive skin. A pump pack makes it easy to apply and you don’t have to worry about getting the lid back on.

My other tip would be to dress warmly on the top half of your body for your treatment sessions. For reasons I don’t understand, most gynaecologists wear suits and adjust the temperature control accordingly. This time around I was much more comfortable in a soft jumper, even though it was a fairly warm day.

My second treatment cost $350 with a $90 rebate, so I was $260 out of pocket. Given the improvement I’ve observed I consider it money well spent. I have one more treatment in a month’s time and then I will only need occasional top up treatments. There is no way of knowing how often I’ll require these and the doctor tells me that it varies from annually to every three months. I’m already certain that no matter how often I need them, it’s worth it.

I am also grateful to be in a position where we only need to cut back a bit of spending in a few places for this to be affordable. I am aware that for many, many women it will just be far too much money, particularly if the finances have already taken a huge hit following cancer treatment.

I’ve been spending the last month contemplating the fact that men can obtain viagra at a government subsidised price (at least in Australia, where I live) because there is recognition that erectile dysfunction is not just about the ability to maintain an erection. It’s also something that has significant mental health repercussions. How is vaginal atrophy any different?

I appreciate that there’s an argument for making treatment available to breast cancer survivors based on the same arguments used to justify government subsidised reconstruction, but I don’t think the subsidy should be restricted to us. Anyone having chemotherapy is at risk of early menopause and vaginal atrophy, not just those of us receiving treatment for breast cancer.

It’s also worth considering that all post menopausal women are at risk of this condition, regardless of their cancer status. As the doctor observed on my first visit, it’s only cultural attitudes that prevent us from treating this as a serious health issue. Why is that, and how can we shift those attitudes? Why is it important for men to maintain sexual function, but not women?

The doctor also observed that sexual function is not the most important benefit of this treatment, which is saying something, considering how significant this benefit is for many women. Vaginal atrophy also predisposes women to a much higher rate of urinary tract infections, prolapse, urinary incontinence and just day-to-day discomfort.

I was pleased to see a current university study into the Mona Lisa Touch therapy. I’m hopeful that the results will validate what so many patients already know. This is a non pharmaceutical treatment with significant benefits and few side effects. It should be better known and more widely available at an affordable cost.

So far, I’m impressed. I’ll report back next month after my final treatment.

 

 

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Why didn’t I know about vaginal atrophy?

There’s a long list of things nobody warns you about when you go through cancer treatment. It is fairly well known that chemotherapy, radiation therapy and significant surgery all carry risks and side effects but when your life hangs in the balance most people will agree to anything. I did.

My biggest shocks were the residual peripheral neuropathy, the brain fog, the extent to which losing my nipples impacted my intimacy, and the way chemotherapy slams you into menopause. Think ten hot sweats a night that are so bad I needed to keep towels under me and change them.

The neuropathy has been accommodated. It’s just like having mild pins and needles in your hands and feet and as long as I keep warm it’s not too painful. The brain fog has taken some work, but I have recovered my pre-cancer brain. The hot sweats have subsided to one or two a night and they are much less sever. I have grieved the loss of my nipples. Acceptance is the only help there.

My last visit to the GP included a regular pap smear. ‘You have evidence of vaginal atrophy’ he told me in that voice that sounds like he’s reporting the weather. Cloudy with a chance of incontinence and infection. I’d never heard of it before. It’s apparently a common side effect of menopause and like all other treatment related symptoms, it has arrived with a vengeance.

I hit the internet (of course) and discovered that vaginal atrophy can make intercourse difficult and painful, urinary incontinence more likely and can also increase the incidence of thrush and urinary tract infection. Oh joy! I also noticed something that wasn’t anywhere on the internet. It’s really difficult to find a toilet paper that doesn’t suddenly shed and leave a residue. This product is obviously designed for a self-lubricating vagina and nobody has thought to let manufacturers know about post-menopausal difficulties with their products.

The usual treatment for vaginal atrophy is apparently some kind of hormonal cream or hormone replacement therapy, but having had breast cancer (even the non-hormonal kind) my doctor wasn’t keen. He recommended a non-hormonal vaginal lubricant available from the chemist. It’s inserted using a plastic tube every three or so days. It costs about three dollars per tube. Unfortunately it doesn’t reverse vaginal atrophy. It just makes things a bit more comfortable. It is also sticky and might all come out at once when you least expect it. It’s better than nothing but not ideal.

One site I found recommended sex or masturbation on a daily basis. Ah the bitter irony that menopause chews up libido and spits out sexual activity as a treatment for side effects. My previously healthy interest in orgasms has been reduced to an occasional distraction. My husband and I are still loving and affectionate but like so many others in our position, intimacy has become more important than intercourse.

Meanwhile, my ability to urinate has become complicated. Clearly good vaginal lubrication was part of the whole process working properly and I now find myself trying to figure out how to keep the flow heading downwards and not across my thighs. I know this is odd and perhaps distasteful stuff to write about but that is exactly why I’m going there. It’s good to know you’re not alone.

Recently I was looking for a good gynaecologist (for someone else) and came across an article about laser therapy for vaginal atrophy. The same technology that is used to improve your wrinkles can be used to improve the tone and thickness of the vaginal walls. After months of enduring the slow collapse of my vaginal tone I headed back to my GP to ask him about it. “Oh yes, apparently it’s quite effective,” he tells me, as I resist the urge to growl at him for not giving me information about this treatment six months ago. Does he just assume I don’t plan on using my vagina anymore?

The treatment is marketed in Australia as Mona Lisa Touch Therapy. I’m amused to think that it’s supposed to give me an enigmatic smile as well as a return to vaginal health. It will involve an initial visit with a gynaecologist to determine if I am ‘suitable’ for the treatment at a cost (after rebate) of around $170. If I’m approved as suitable, each laser treatment will cost (after rebate) around $260. I should see some improvement after the first treatment but for the optimal result three treatments are recommended. I haven’t checked, but I’m guessing my health fund will not pick up the slack. I still think it’s worth having. I’m booked in for my initial visit next Monday.

I’ll keep you posted on the results.

One Year Post Mastectomy

Fanfare please!

It’s been one year since my bilateral mastectomy.

It seems like an appropriate time to post an update on my recovery and to reflect on what’s helped, what’s hindered and what needs to happen during the next year.

There will be photos, so if you’re squeamish about scars then best skip this one.

The short version; I feel great. Lately I’ve actually been feeling well, really well, for the first time since my surgery. I’m amazed by the body’s ability to heal and surprised at how long it’s taking.

If you’d asked me just after surgery how long I thought my recovery would take I would have guessed three months or so. Even one whole year later there’s still a little way to go before my body is done.

This is important.

There have been times during the last year when I’ve thought, ‘Is this as good as it gets?’ It seems to me that healing will happen for a while and then there will be a plateau where nothing much changes. I’ve come to think of these plateaus as the body taking a rest from the hard work of healing.

The whole experience has been an opportunity for me to take a hard look at my life and my habits. I suspect there are people whose recovery is passive. They wait and hope, trusting that whatever medical treatment they received will do all the work for them.

It’s been my long experience that recovery from anything needs to be active. We can support or hinder our recovery with some very simple choices, like what we put in our bodies, how much sleep we get and how much stress we’re prepared to tolerate.

I’ve been actively participating in my recovery.

I’ve cared for my skin, particularly the site of my surgery, by using a body oil after my shower. I’ve also taken care of lymphatic drainage from my left side by using gentle massage throughout the day. This area has had a lot of damage following three surgeries and radiation. While I haven’t had any signs of lymphodema, I see regular lymph drainage as an important preventative measure. I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life.

I’ve lost weight using The Fast Diet. My doctor recommended this because there are statistics showing that excess weight can contribute to breast cancer risk. Fasting also triggers autophagy, the body’s natural mechanism for cleaning up dead and damaged cells. Anyone whose experienced triple negative breast cancer knows that we don’t have any of the new ‘wonder drugs’ available to us. Fasting seems like the best thing I can do to prevent recurrence. I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life.

Yoga has probably made the single greatest contribution to my recovery. I do at least one class a week (two when my husband joins me) and I practice at home every day. When I wake up in the morning I get dressed in my yoga gear. I have coffee and check my messages and daily schedule and then it’s straight into yoga before breakfast. I’m able to do things with my body that I couldn’t do before I was diagnosed. Of course the point of yoga is not to twist your body into increasingly difficult poses. Yoga is about integrating the mind, the body, the spirit and the breath. Yoga has helped me to love my post-cancer body and to feel strong and flexible, mentally and physically. I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life.

Massage has also been a big part of my recovery. I found a local massage therapist with specialist oncology training. As well as regularly helping me to move back into my own body she’s gently massaged my surgery site and this has greatly assisted in settling all of the nerve pain and helping me to regain sensation in that part of my body. It’s also deeply relaxing.

I was eating fairly well before diagnosis and treatment has been an opportunity to review what goes on my plate. We’re shifting towards more and more vegetarian meals. I rarely eat gluten any more and I feel better for it. I’m naturally eating less food thanks to The Fast Diet and the impact on my appetite. We’ve adopted the SLOW principles as much as possible; Seasonal, Local, Organic, Wholefoods.

I’m eating much less sugar and finding that I can’t eat anything really sweet anymore. I suspect this is because fasting has killed off the gut bacteria that trick my brain into wanting more sugar. The recent discoveries in relation to the gut biome continue to fascinate me. I’m sure we’re only just beginning to understand how important this work is for our future health. It’s certainly a strong motivator to avoid processed foods with all their additives and preservatives that prevent bacterial growth.

Thanks to a couple of visits with a psychologist with ACT (Acceptance Commitment Therapy) training and Russ Harris’s books on the subject, I’m now very clear about what’s important to me, what I value and what I want my life to stand for. To celebrate my one year anniversary I’ve enrolled in a permaculture course. There are those that would argue I don’t need this training because I’ve been practicing permaculture all of my adult life.

My friend Cecilia challenged me to ‘become a world famous permaculture teacher’ which is what motivated me to finally enrol. She’s clever. I don’t really need to become famous (nor do I want to) but I really do want to teach the skills I’ve been practicing for so many years. Permaculture is simply the best way to be human and the map for the survival of our species.

One of my favourite quotes has always been ‘Be the change you want in the world’. When I was a teenager I looked at a photograph of the planet from space showing all of the lights of civilisation and spontaneously thought ‘human cancer’. I was distressed by the damage we were doing to the planet and a sense of helplessness. For me, permaculture holds the key to healing humanity’s cancerous impact on the planet. It’s probably going to keep me well too.

So here’s my latest photos.

As you can see, I’ve come a long way since surgery.

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My chest has gone from being almost completely numb to almost completely recovering sensation. I still have numbness along the scar lines and there’s an area of nerve damage above my original surgery scar (that’s the little arc high on my left side). Nerve damage feels like electricity under the skin. It’s continued to improve with massage and I’m hopeful that it will eventually disappear.

My chest still feels a little tight, as if I’ve got a large sticking plaster on it, but this has improved and I believe it will also vanish in time. For most of last year I felt like I was wearing an undersized bra (how ironic) and the tightness extended all the way across my back. That’s resolved now and I only have my chest to deal with. Yoga and massage both help with this.

I still need to remember to keep my shoulders back and to hold my body up. My doctor tells me it’s common for mastectomy patients to develop a stooped back and rounded shoulders. I suspect this is a combination of relieving that sensation of tightness and, perhaps, embarrassment at having no breasts. I regularly roll my shoulders up and back, particularly when I’m at the computer.

My neck has taken a while to adjust to the absence of two F cup breasts. Removing close to two kilos of weight left my neck and shoulders in a state of shock and once again, yoga and massage have helped. A friend showed me this neat trick; point your index finger at the sky; now bring your finger so it touches your chin and the tip of your nose; push back until you feel your neck is back in alignment. You can also push your head back firmly into a pillow when you’re in bed, or the head rest when you’re in a car. This simple exercise has had more impact on my neck pain than anything else.

As for the other side effects from treatment, I’ve also seen big improvement. I rarely experience any peripheral neuropathy in my feet. I still wake with sore hands but they warm up quickly. I need to be careful with any activity where I hold my hand in the same position for any length of time, such as drawing or sewing. My hands tends to cramp up and become painful. I haven’t given up on my body’s ability to regrow nerves. While one doctor told me I’d probably be stuck with whatever I had at twelve months post chemo, another said it can take six years for nerves to regrow. I’ve already had improvement since my twelve month mark so I’m going with option B.

I have a mild hum in my ears. This is probably also chemo related nerve damage but it could just be age. My Mum has age related hearing loss. It’s important to remember that not everything going on with our bodies is related to treatment. I don’t have that awful metallic taste in my mouth any more and I think this is also a form of peripheral neuropathy. Food tastes wonderful again, particularly straight after fasting.

I wonder to what extent the fasting has promoted healing. The science indicates that it should make a difference. In early days, I certainly noticed more rapid healing following a fast. I’ve observed that if I have any kind of skin blemish it’s usually completely healed after fast day.

As you can see from the photos, the radiation damage to my skin has greatly improved. As well as the circulatory benefits of massage, I think the regular application of rose hip oil has made a huge difference.

As you’ve probably already guessed, my mental state is great. People recovering from mastectomy are, not surprisingly, at high risk of depression. I’m very grateful that the care I’ve received and the work that I’ve done have helped me to avoid that particular complication. In many ways, depression is a worse disease than cancer and certainly at least as deadly. I think avoiding depression has involved a combination of things but particularly the information about ACT, practicing ACT and the benefits of yoga.

The most significant contribution to my state of mind has been the love and support I’ve received from so many people. Special mention must go to my beautiful husband who has continued to love and cherish me through all of this. I’m still beautiful to him. It’s an enormous advantage to have someone like that in my life and I grieve for those women that go through this on their own, or whose partners leave them during treatment.

I no longer experience ‘chemo brain’. I feel as mentally alert as I ever did. I’m also calmer, happier and less stressed than at any other time in my life.

I’m now taking stock and asking ‘What else can I do to continue with my recovery and to improve my health?’ I’ll also be doing this for the rest of my life. I believe that there is no upper limit to how well I can be. To put it another way, no matter how well recovered our bodies seems to be, there is always more we can do to improve our health.

Thanks to everyone that’s been following the blog and the accompanying Facebook page. Special thanks to those that have taken the time to let me know that something they’ve read has helped them with their own recovery. You’re the reason I keep writing.

Go well. Live well. My best wishes for your continuing recovery.

Is There a Fast Way to Reduce Cancer Risk?

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Here’s a quick quiz. How many of the following statements do you think are true?
1. Fasting is bad for you.
2. If you don’t eat regularly you’ll get low blood sugar and feel tired
3. You can’t exercise if you’re fasting.
4. You must eat breakfast to ‘kick start’ your metabolism.
5. Losing weight is simple a case of energy in, energy out; reduce the amount of food you eat and increase the amount of exercise you do and you are guaranteed to lose weight.
6. Fasting will promote binge eating.
7. Fasting will promote eating disorders.
8. Going hungry will make it difficult for you to concentrate.
9. You can’t sleep if you’re hungry.
10. Weight gain is unavoidable with age.
11. Losing weight means giving up food you love.
12. Over weight people are just making excuses because they are greedy.

For me, cancer has been a lesson in holding my opinions lightly. So many things that I was sure of have been flipped. The most recent example is fasting.

I can remember a friend trying to convince me of the benefits of fasting over ten years ago. I dismissed her arguments and ‘new age nonsense’ and put fasting in the same basket as alkaline and ketogenic diets. I’m a skeptic. I need evidence.

Then a couple of months ago when we were channel surfing I found a story on the Sunday Night program about intermittent fasting. It included an interview with Dr Michael Mosely who made a documentary for the BBC a couple of years back following his investigation of fasting. With Mimi Spencer, he wrote a book about what he discovered. Here’s a link with a pretty good description:

http://www.booktopia.com.au/the-fast-diet-mimi-spencer/prod9781780721675.html?source=pla&gclid=CjwKEAjwtIShBRD08fKD1OWSik4SJAAuKLovgENgBkfcr5B9jRV2vQjPVCEN_BsMJA6t1GlDkSfwohoCn1vw_wcB

I gained about ten kilos during chemotherapy and at the time it was a source of distress. My beautiful daughter reminded me that my body was fighting cancer and that I shouldn’t worry about extra weight. She was right. I stopped obsessing about it.

I also got back into my daily yoga habit. You can’t downward dog on a full stomach so postponing breakfast became normal. I usually eat what I call my ‘super porridge’ around 10.30am. I’ve also been tired so I’ve been eating dinner around 6.30pm and going to bed early. Without planning to I’ve been creating a much longer gap between my last meal and my first meal. Two things have happened. The weight that I gained during chemotherapy has gradually disappeared  (not counting the two kilos they removed from my chest!), and my appetite has reduced to the point where I rarely feel particularly hungry and I never feel ravenous.

Without intending to, I’ve been adopting one of the behaviours that research now tells us can permanently reduce weight and improve health. I’ve created a ‘fasting window’.

It occurred to me that I was naturally thin when I was younger. My weight problems came during pregnancy when I was told I MUST eat breakfast. Up until then it was my habit to have coffee in the morning and not to eat until lunch. While I was breastfeeding there was also the breakfast mantra. Now it seems the experts were wrong. Or perhaps more accurately, the advice was incomplete.

If you’re a ‘breakfast person’ then you should eat it. If you’re not then you shouldn’t feel guilty about skipping it. And regardless of your age or your weight, it seems that fasting is good for most people.

What’s most appealing to me about this way of eating is the rigorous science behind it. Most diets work for some people for some of the time until, almost inevitably, they regain the weight they lost (and then some). This diet involves a permanent change in eating behaviour that most people find relatively easy and sustainable. You won’t just lose your saddle bags and your muffin top. You’ll also drop the fat that’s around your major organs and this weight loss has all kinds of health benefits, including a reduction in your risk of developing diabetes.

Eating this way gives my body time to repair itself. When we eat our body manufactures new cells. When we fast for long enough it triggers our ‘repair mode’ and the body not only draws on our fat stores for fuel, it also cleans up damaged and unwanted cells. You can imagine what exciting news this is for anyone prone to cancer. My damaged cells can kill me.

We now know that most of us have cells with the potential to become cancer circulating our bodies all of the time. Yes, when I say ‘most of us’ I mean potentially any human on the planet and not just those of us with a history of this disease. In order for these damaged cells to become tumours they need to trick the body into providing them with a blood supply.

Of course, most of these cells get killed off by the body as part of our normal process of cell rejuvenation. Now it seems that intermittent fasting boosts this process. That means that changing the way we eat could have huge benefits for cancer patients.

Fasting also increases our white blood cell count and boosts our immune system. It helps to reduce insulin type growth factor, which is important because high levels have been shown to correlate with a higher risk of cancer. Here’s an article summarising some recent research:

http://news.nationalpost.com/2014/06/05/fasting-for-three-days-renews-entire-immune-system-protects-cancer-patients-remarkable-new-study-finds/

After checking the research I am convinced that intermittent fasting has the potential to reduce my risk of recurrence. My husband was also keen to try a 5:2 diet to lose the extra kilos that he’s put on during the last year so about six weeks ago we both started limiting our calories for two days a week.

We chose Tuesdays and Thursdays as our ‘fast days’. You can choose two consecutive days but most people find this harder than breaking them up. On fast days, Graham likes to have breakfast which is usually some kind of vegetarian omelette. I prefer to save my 500 calories for one meal at dinner time. I’ve found that it’s easier to not eat at all during the day. I love that this way of eating is so flexible and that you can adjust it to suit your preferences.

Dinner on fast days is a big pile of low starch vegetables (leave out the potatoes and corn) topped with a small serve of protein. We often have fish because it’s low in calories and I don’t eat enough of it. We’ve also had eggs, tofu, organic chicken and grass fed organic lamb or beef.

Graham gets 600 calories by virtue of his gender which means that once he’s had breakfast I’ve got plenty of room to make us both a delicious dinner.

So how are we going?

Well, a girlfriend came to visit me this weekend to take me out to my favourite restaurant as a late birthday treat. I sat enjoying the view out the window of the ocean and tucked into my goats cheese tart with duck breast followed by a giant pork chop with heaps of vegetables and thought “This has got to be the best diet EVER!”

When my daughter turned 21 I finally admitted to myself that the in spite of all the dieting and exercising I was just going to have to live with ten extra kilos for the rest of my life. I did, once, manage to get back within my BMI by attending weekly Weight Watchers meetings and obsessively measuring and counting everything but I was so miserable that it was unsustainable. What a great business model they have; any loss is their credit and any gain is your fault!

My daughter has a similar metabolism. I’ve seen her eat like a bird and train like an athlete only to be distressed by the lack of any movement on the scales.

The thing I love the most about The Fast Diet is that it has finally exploded the whole ‘energy in-energy out’ myth of dieting. Ask anyone whose battled their weight long term or any honest personal trainer and they will tell you that it’s just not that simple. Traditional dieting ultimately makes people fatter.

What’s worse than the lack of results on the scale are the thin people that spout “You just need to eat less and exercise more!” as if you weren’t already doing that. The implication that you are just being untruthful about your vigilance is offensive and demoralising. You give up. You eat a bar of chocolate. You may as well, because people assume you are anyway.

So you can imagine my excitement when (drum roll please) the scales showed my pre-pregnancy weight! I’m so happy I’ve become evangelical. We are not ‘big boned’. We do not have ‘a slow metabolism’. We are not weak, lazy, self delusional or greedy.

The first couple of weeks of fasting required some commitment and a bit of effort but it was much easier than I expected it to be. Yes, I was hungry. So what. Every diet I’ve ever tried required me to feel hungry but I was required to feel it every bloody day! Two days a week? No problem!

What makes it really easy to get through fast days is this phrase: “I’ll eat that tomorrow.”

You see, the wonderful thing about The Fast Diet is that you don’t count or restrict anything on your other days. Yes, you read that correctly. No calorie counting. No portion control. No using matchboxes or your palm to measure serving sizes of the food you love. The authors recommend that you eat a healthy diet most of the time which is high in vegetables, includes some fruit and good quality protein but you can also include occasional serves of the foods that are usually forbidden.

I’m thinner than I’ve been in twenty two years and I did it while eating pizza, French cheeses, gourmet dinners, decadent desserts and the occasional hand full of potato chips. On the recommendation of the authors via their Facebook page we suspended fasting over Christmas, both gained a couple of kilos and then lost them when we fasted the following week. You can see why they call this ‘The Foodies Diet’.

I have other reasons for eating well most of the time. I know that good quality whole foods can contribute to my health and reduce my risk of occurrence. I also know that eating well affects my mood, my energy and my appearance. But The Fast Diet means that I can finally enjoy food again without any guilt. I can have an evening out at a beautiful restaurant and not use kilojoules or fat content as a criteria for menu choices. For someone like me who loves fine dining this is close to miraculous.

Apart from the weight loss I think this way of eating helps to educate your subconscious; hunger is not going to kill me.  Like other people on this diet, I find that hunger does not increase throughout my fast days. It comes in waves. It peaks and subsides and it’s no worse at the end of the day than it was in the morning. It’s about as uncomfortable as a small stone stuck in the bottom of your shoe. Mildly annoying. Not more than that.

This is not a starve and binge strategy. Although I expected to be hungry the day after a fast day I actually stuck to my usual routine of a late breakfast. I have found that I am just not as hungry as I used to be and that I naturally eat less. Although I had no hesitation in ordering a pork chop for lunch I chose not to eat all of it and I passed on dessert. On purpose. My choice.

I’ve also lost my sweet tooth, perhaps because fasting has starved the sugar-eating bacteria in my gut. (Another recent Catalyst program explained that this bacteria can signal our brain to crave more sugar.) The research confirms that people don’t overeat after a fast day. That’s part of why this strategy works so well.

For the first few weeks, fast days were a challenge. I avoided anywhere that sold or stored food (including my kitchen) and kept myself busy doing things I enjoyed. I slept late and went to bed early in order to shorten the day. I felt occasionally ravenous but then I would distract myself with something, have a nice big drink of water and the feeling would pass. It reminded me of giving up smoking.

Now to my surprise I actually enjoy fast days. Apart from being seriously impressed with the results (12 kilos gone and counting) I find I have plenty of energy, I think clearly and I don’t ever suffer from ‘low blood sugar’ fatigue, which, it turns out, is just one more dieting myth that this research has exploded. Think about it. You go to bed every night and go without food for seven or eight or nine hours. You can usually add in the couple of hours you didn’t eat before you went to bed. Do you wake up feeling light headed because of low blood sugar? Ironic that this diet might be the way to avoid diabetes.

Some of the recent research is showing that athletes actually perform better if they fast before competition. The guy that wrote the book on ‘carb loading’ is now apologising and advocating a different approach. It makes sense that as an animal reliant upon hunting to provide our food, fasting would trigger improved athletic performance.

I’ve only got another two or three kilos to go and then I’ll cut down to one fast day a week for the rest of my life. It’s clear that this is one way I can actively help my body to avoid cancer in the future.

If you’re interested, here’s a great article by Michael Mosely:

http://www.independent.ie/life/health-wellbeing/the-fast-way-to-lose-weight-live-healthily-and-fight-ageing-30600623.html

5:2 is not the only way to fast. Some people find it easier to limit their eating to an eight hour window each day. This is usually referred to as the 8:16 diet. You might, for example, have your first meal of the day at 11.00am and your last meal at 7.00pm. Eating this way gives your body a fasting window where it can switch to repair mode. The biggest difference with 8:16 is that you need to eat this way every day (some people take one day off a week) for the rest of your life. It’s a personal choice whether you prefer 5:2.

There’s also the option of doing a three day continuous fast every month. If you prefer this, you need to be aware that this is a serious fast and not just the calorie restriction you get on the 5:2 diet. Most people doing a three day fast have only water or herbal tea. Some have clear soup or broth. I know people that combine a monthly fast with some kind of spiritual practice such as a retreat, meditation, yoga or prayer. It’s about a lot more than diet for them, but a spiritual aspect is not a requirement. I think the most difficult thing about three day fasting is fitting it into your life. Few of us can walk away from our lives for three days every month and trying to maintain an extreme fast while friends, family and co-workers are enjoying meals would be difficult.

I’ll probably do a three day fast a couple of times a year for the health benefits.

Regardless of which model you choose, fasting is good for you.

I’ll add my usual caution here. If you’re currently having treatment then discuss any diet changes with your doctor and please, do your own research. If you’re having chemotherapy then it’s worth googling ‘chemotherapy and fasting’. There is evidence that fasting might help to make chemotherapy less toxic to the body and more effective. Ironically, the chronic nausea and loss of appetite could be part of the reason chemotherapy works at all.

If you sent me a message saying you had just been diagnosed and asking my advice then part of my response would include a recommendation that you fast for three days. If I could go back in time that’s what I would do. It’s possible that fasting might just help our bodies to fight active cancer.

This is a fascinating area of research and one I’ll be keeping an eye on.

So here’s a short list of the ideas I’ve now consigned to the rubbish bin:

1. Fasting is bad for you.
2. If you don’t eat regularly you’ll get low blood sugar and feel tired
3. You can’t exercise if you’re fasting.
4. You must eat breakfast to ‘kick start’ your metabolism.
5. Losing weight is simple a case of energy in, energy out; reduce the amount of food you eat and increase the amount of exercise you do and you are guaranteed to lose weight.
6. Fasting will promote binge eating.
7. Fasting will promote eating disorders.
8. Going hungry will make it difficult for you to concentrate.
9. You can’t sleep if you’re hungry.
10. Weight gain is unavoidable with age.
11. Losing weight means giving up food you love.
12. Over weight people are just making excuses because they are greedy.

All of these are WRONG. Imagine my delighted surprise!

 

Cancer and Yoga

I’ve wanted to write a post about yoga for a long time. I keep running it around in my head, trying to find something compelling to say about it. The trouble is that I can remember what my attitude used to be to people that tried to convince me to try yoga. They often seemed evangelical. I wondered how anyone could get that excited about an exercise class.

Now I laugh at my own ignorance. Yoga is so much more than an exercise class but I don’t expect you to take my word for it.

I suppose the best thing to do is to just tell my story.

I really do hope that, after reading this, you go and try out a few yoga classes and that you go for long enough to get over the perfectly natural embarrassment you feel when trying something new. I honestly believe it will be worth it. And if you don’t, that’s okay too.

I started yoga about five years ago, before I’d been diagnosed with cancer. My friend, Trish, says that everyone in a yoga class has a back story, many of them involving chronic illness or mental health issues, but my reasons for starting were much simpler; I couldn’t stand on one leg.

I’d joined the gym and one of the staff was studying to be a personal trainer. She asked if I’d like a free fitness assessment. When she tried to check my balance I was shocked to discover that I couldn’t keep one foot off the ground for longer than a few seconds. She told me that loss of balance is common as we age and one of the reasons elderly people have so many falls. I was in my late 40’s and hardly geriatric. She recommended yoga.

I’d been diagnosed with fibromyalgia many years before. It’s a chronic pain condition that feels a lot like that ache you get when the flu is about to hit you, or, ironically, like the ache you get if you overdo it at the gym. When I explained this to Emma, the resident yoga teacher, she told me to find my ‘intelligent edge’, not to hurt myself, to practice non-violence towards myself. I spent about half the class in a position called ‘pose of a child’.

But I kept going.

Thoughts of broken hips and walking frames motivated me. For the first month or so I felt like this:

funny-cartoon-fist-time-yoga

I love this cartoon. I think it sums up beautifully the reasons why a lot of people give up on yoga. It can be intimidating to be in a room full of people that seem to be able to bend themselves like pretzels. Then there’s the weird Indian names for positions and the weird Indian music. Although I did very quickly come to find the music surprisingly relaxing. My friend, Dayasaga Saraswati (yes, she teaches yoga) tells me that the Indian view of music is spiritual and that they believe it can resonate with us at a subconscious level to promote good health. I’ve come to believe they are definitely onto something.

After about two months I finally made it through a class without having to rest or stop and look at the teacher every fifteen seconds. I felt a small sense of triumph and then remembered that a yoga class is no place for ego. Emma often says ‘Honour the body that you’re in today. It’s a different body to yesterday. You’ll have a different body tomorrow.”

After about three months I found myself really looking forward to Thursday morning yoga classes. I had my own favourite spot on the floor. I was on smiling and nodding terms with a lot of the other regulars. Best of all, I could now stand on one leg. I could also stand on one leg, hold the foot of the other leg with my hand, make a mudra with my other hand and bow forwards in a dancer pose. My body felt energised after classes. Without thinking about it, I naturally started to eat better and to appreciate my body. I could now bend and balance in ways that I didn’t think would ever be possible.

I also noticed that I’d stopped worrying about how I looked or what anyone else in the room was doing. My mat had become a kind of magic carpet. When I stepped onto it I was fully present. When my mind started to drift I would gently pull it back onto the mat. I felt as if I had moved back into my own body. I started noticing that this state of mindfulness stayed with me after class. I would find myself fascinated by mundane tasks and deeply appreciative of special moments. I spent a lot more time in the present and a lot less reflecting on the past or planning for the future. Yoga had done this:

1012917_376785655793678_2351014497507997693_n

One day in class, Emma made a comment about incorporating something into home practice. Home practice? You mean one class a week wasn’t all the yoga I needed? Emma and Dayasagar both told me that even five or ten minutes of yoga a day could be life changing. At the time I thought it was highly unlikely that such a small investment of time could have such impressive returns, but I figured it would probably help me to manage my fibromyalgia pain and to stay fit and flexible.

Starting home practice was just like starting class. I was back to feeling awkward and self conscious all over again. I’d do half a dozen cat stretches and then wonder what to do next. I decided to build my home practice a bit like the way we used to learn dances at school. Start at the beginning and just keep adding bits on. I eventually settled into a steady practice that included plenty of different poses. I tended to stick with this basic pattern, occasionally adding in something from that week’s class.

Over time my morning yoga became as essential to my day as my morning shower. I figured out how to pack an old yoga mat into luggage when I travelled. Friends booked a weekend away and kindly made sure there would be somewhere for me to practice.

I realised that yoga had become an essential part of my life. I was feeling fitter, stronger and happier than I could ever remember feeling. My fibromyalgia didn’t vanish, but I was in less pain less often and I could modify class according to how I was feeling. On one occasion when I’d had a serious relapse I turned up at class and burst into tears. “I’m right back where I started!” I told Emma. “It’s okay,” she told me. “You’ve been here before and overcome it. Just honour the body you have today.” To our mutual surprise I managed a whole class. Yoga had conquered fibromyalgia.

Then I was diagnosed with cancer.

My first class after diagnosis was difficult. I knew I’d cry when I saw Emma. I knew I’d be in that uncomfortable position where some people in the room knew something incredibly personal about me while most had no idea. I wondered if I’d be better off giving up class. By the end of that class I knew I had to keep coming. I still had cancer but the fear and horror of my diagnosis had settled. I felt calm. Ready. This is the body I have today and it has cancer. But I’m still here. I also knew that I had to practice non violence towards my own body. I would not bully myself or beat myself up over my cancer diagnosis. I accepted the reality. I resolved to breathe into my diagnosis, to make room for it and to accept it.

When my hair fell out the whole room could see what was going on. People that had smiled and nodded all those years started to talk to me, to ask how I was going, to tell me they thought I was brave or inspirational. As chemotherapy progressed I considered giving up class, concerned that I might pick up a cold. Most people don’t know that a head cold can kill you when you’re going through chemotherapy. Instead I chose to bring a can of disinfectant spray and to use that to create my own little decontamination zone. Friends knew not to kiss or hug me. Class went on. I went back to spending half of it in pose of a child because of the fatigue but I always came away calmer, stronger and feeling at peace. Yoga was a weekly reminder that my chemo ravaged body wasn’t permanent. I would come through this.

Home practice was one of the most beneficial things for dealing with chemotherapy. I would roll out my mat and start with cat stretches. I would immediately feel my energy start to rise and my distress start to dissipate. Some days I would feel to sick or tired and my husband would remind me, “The days you least feel like yoga are the days you most need yoga.” So true.

In the middle of chemotherapy I developed a fever and nearly wound up in hospital with neutropenia. I dodged that bullet but had to miss two weeks of classes. Emma kept in touch via Facebook. Home practice became more important than ever.

Following my first surgery the Breastcare Nurses commented on my extraordinary range of arm movement. I’d had a slice taken out of my breast and a string of lymph nodes removed and I could put my hands into reverse prayer position behind my back. When they showed me the physiotherapy exercises and advised that I work up to them slowly I demonstrated my ability to do all of them and asked when I could get back to class. Three weeks later with the wound carefully taped I was back doing a modified version with Emma’s support and advice. Five weeks later I was back doing a full class. That’s what yoga can do for you.

When the radiation clinic asked me what time would suit me for my six weeks of daily zaps I made sure they didn’t clash with yoga class. My husband was so impressed with what yoga had done for me that he started going to a Monday night class and I went with him as often as possible. After radiation I missed two weeks while my skin became raw but as soon as possible I was back on my mat.

When I got the news in July this year that the cancer had come back and I would need a mastectomy it was yoga that helped me more than anything else. Practice non-violence with my own body and accept what is. This is not the body I will have a month from now because that body won’t have breasts. But it will still be my body.

When I was offered reconstruction one of the critical factors for me was my return to yoga. With reconstruction, my surgeon thought I would probably need to stop all yoga for at least three months and as long as six months, depending on how well I healed. Without reconstruction I could probably be back at class in about six weeks. This is the point at which I really understood how essential my yoga practice had become to me. The thought of not being able to do yoga for six months was distressing.

I realised that yoga, for me, had become so much more than standing on one leg. I had become calmer, kinder, less judgemental. I had noticed improvements in my balance, flexibility and posture, which you would expect but there were also subtle and unexpected consequences. I realised that part of the legacy of my policing career was a tendency to hold my breath, or to breathe in a very shallow way. If you’re doing a warehouse search for an armed offender this is a good skill to have but to do it on a regular basis starves your body of oxygen. There’s a reason yoga instructors include advice about inhaling and exhaling. My sleep improved. My mood improved. I was healthier and happier, even while I had cancer.

Following the double mastectomy in August this year I was still able to put my hands into reverse prayer to the amazement of the nursing staff. One of the old, wise nurses said, “We get two kinds of mastectomy patients. Those that do yoga and those that don’t.” While other patients lay in their beds and watched television I started walking laps of the ward. Forbidden yoga for a couple of weeks I still felt the need for some kind of exercise.

I returned to a modified daily practice as soon as I was released from hospital, nine days after surgery. My doctor cleared me for class after three weeks. I’ve been back ever since.

I am certain that yoga, and Emma’s class in particular, has made an enormous contribution to my acceptance of life without breasts. This is my body and I love it. I am strong, flexible and grounded. Thanks to yoga I also have pretty good legs for a woman in her 50s! I haven’t felt the need for prosthetics and part of that is the complete acceptance of my new body.

One of my yoga friends, Jan, is naturally flat chested. Before my surgery she told me we’d be flat mates. What a wonderful thing to say. Funny that I’d never even noticed she was flat chested until she pointed it out, and that was a reassuring thought too.

There are no words to fully describe what yoga has done for me. Some of it is beyond language. It is deeper. It’s like trying to describe great music, or love, or the colour blue. Sometimes you just have to experience something for yourself. When it comes to explaining yoga, words are like a documentary about Australia. The documentary can show you images of the country but that’s nothing like travelling here, meeting the people and seeing the land. Yoga is the same. If you do it, and keep doing it for long enough, then you understand.

Yesterday I managed a yoga move I’d never done before. It’s difficult. It’s a side plank, which requires me to support my body weight with one arm, followed by a move where I put the top leg behind me and arch my back. I was momentarily pleased with myself and then I remembered that yoga class is no place for my ego. That was yesterday’s body. Cancer has taught me that anything could happen. My body might be very different next week. Even so, I can now say that for the moment, I am officially fitter than I was before the mastectomy. I am also able to support my body weight on either arm. Please think about that for a minute.

I keep trying to thank Emma. She pushes back. “It’s not me. It’s the yoga.” Yes, it is the yoga and it’s also having a teacher that creates a safe space, where I can be weak and ill and full of pain and still welcome. It’s about weaving the philosophy of yoga into each class so that it gently shifts my own thinking. It’s about being a living example of everything she teaches, including humility, which I suppose is why she doesn’t accept any credit.

So this post is for you, Emma. It’s my way of attempting to express the profound impact your classes have had on my life. Thank you. My cancer treatment would have been so much harder without yoga. My life would be so much poorer without yoga and all it has given me. Namaste. You have my deep gratitude and sincere love.

And for everyone else, please consider trying yoga. Not just one class, which I promise will leave you feeling awkward and embarrassed, but try it for a few months. You might just find that it opens up a treasure chest of benefits and even if it doesn’t, at least you’ll be able to stand on one leg.

 

 

 

 

Here, Try My Shoes.

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This blog contains a lot of advice about coping with the treatment for cancer and living well after treatment. I often think that offering people advice is a bit like offering them your shoes. Someone tells you they need to walk from here to there (and sometimes they don’t even do that) and you say, “Here, try my shoes.” The problem is obvious. There’s a fair chance that my shoes won’t fit you. Even if they fit you, they might not be comfortable. Advice is a bit like that too.

When I consider whether or not to take someone’s advice it’s like deciding to try on their shoes. This is not a simple decision. From my perspective there are some shoes I know will never be comfortable. I am not, for example, going to try leech therapy to prevent cancer.

There are some shoes that look like they’ll fit me but don’t. For me this happened with radiation therapy. I did my research, heard all about the statistics, endured the embarrassment of having my breasts exposed to strangers day after day and the discomfort of skin damage and then my cancer came back anyway. Conclusion? The radiation did not ‘mop up’ any potentially cancerous cells as promised and I now have permanently weakened tissue and the risks that come with radiation treatment, including future heart trouble, leukaemia, and aggressive mutations to the cancer I’ve already had. Of course the cancer would almost certainly have come back without the radiation and then I would have kicked myself for not having it.

There are some shoes that look like I won’t like them but turn out to be brilliant. Recently I saw a television program about fasting and the research into its benefits. I’m someone whose previously dismissed fasting as too extreme, too radical and too much stress on my body. I was wrong. It turns out that fasting can trigger your body to clean up damaged cells and to improve your production of T cells, critical for a healthy immune system. This is important news for anyone trying to avoid cancer. Research has shown that all of us have potentially cancerous cells circulating the body all of the time. In those of us that develop tumour based cancer these cells have managed to trick the body into providing a blood supply so that the cells can multiply into tumours. Something that helps the body to clean up damaged cells is highly likely to help prevent the recurrence of cancer. I’m excited.

Most importantly, research into fasting has shown that it reduces the PKA Enzyme. Higher than average levels of this enzyme are present in people with cancer and it’s been linked to cell progression and tumour formation. As a side benefit, it’s also linked to ageing (not that I care any more, ever again, how old I look!).

Last week I fasted for two days. There’s a popular diet around at them moment that’s variously called ‘The Fast Diet’ or ‘The 5:2 diet” and the program I saw included an interview with Michael Mosely, one of the people that developed this concept. I really think they should call it a ‘calorie reduction’ diet rather than fasting, because it involves eating 500 calories on two days each week. That’s not the same thing as fasting. I tried 5:2 but for me it was more difficult than just eating nothing for two days. Eating something made me mildly obsessive about what I could include in my 500 calories. Eating nothing gave me a complete break from eating, preparing and thinking about food.

Over the course of the two days I drank plenty of water. On the first day I had two black coffees in the morning but I left these out on the second day. As a consequence I had a mild ‘where’s my caffeine’ headache on day two but otherwise I felt fine. I kept myself busy and distracted. I thought a lot less about food than I expected and while I did have moments of feeling like I wanted to eat I found they passed quickly if I just turned my attention to something else. In my mind, it sounded like this:

“Hmm. I feel like something to eat. Maybe an apple or some peanut butter on toast. Oh wait. I’m fasting. I’ll have a drink of water and find something to keep me busy.”

Interestingly, my hunger did not increase over the course of the two days. I did not become ravenous or distressed about the lack of food. It seemed that once my hunger reached it’s very mild peak it just stayed there and only invaded my thoughts intermittently. I was surprised at how easy I found it to go without food.

The proponents of fasting claim that it improves our cognitive function. They speculate that our ancestors, during times of hunger, would have needed to be more creative problem solvers to find food and so the absence of food improves our thinking. I managed to figure out a complex problem with a broken sliding door, to remove the door, repair it and replace it so there might be something in that.

I was hoping that fasting might have had an impact on my pain levels. I’ve still got nerve pain, particularly in my hands, as a consequence of chemotherapy. I’ve also got lower back pain, possibly from degenerative arthritis in my SI joint or another hang over from chemotherapy. Fasting didn’t seem to make much difference but I remembered my TENS machine and found it made a huge difference to my lower back pain. More creative problem solving, perhaps.

The most noticeable impact was on the duration and severity of my hot flushes. Chemotherapy induced menopause. Post surgically my hot flushes have ramped up again. I don’t find them particularly distressing because I certainly prefer them to menstruating and they mostly just involve the same feeling I get when I walk into summer sunshine. There’s a bit of a glow across the forehead and a down-to-the-bones warmth but I don’t have the panic that affects some women. For the whole two days of fasting I had two very mild events instead of six or so much stronger ones. Conclusion: If you struggle with hot flushes it might be worth trying a short fast. Of course, what works for me might not work for you. These are my shoes.

Meanwhile Graham’s trying the 5:2 diet and loving it.

If you’re interested in 5:2 there’s more information here:

http://thefastdiet.co.uk

Here’s a couple of interesting articles about fasting, one of them with good research references:

http://www.collective-evolution.com/2014/06/22/scientists-discover-that-fasting-triggers-stem-cell-regeneration-fights-cancer/

https://news.usc.edu/63669/fasting-triggers-stem-cell-regeneration-of-damaged-old-immune-system/

You might also like to google for more research into fasting.

If you’re about to start chemotherapy then you might want to talk to your doctor about fasting. Here’s just one of the pieces of research showing the potential for fasting either prior to or after chemotherapy to reduce some of the unwanted side effects. It’s also possible that fasting might improve the efficacy of chemotherapy which of course means that it might not, but so far it appears not to have any negative impact on chemotherapy and would, on that basis, be worth trying, particularly for those people plagued by extreme nausea.

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2815756/

But back to footwear. Sometimes, particularly in relation to cancer, I find myself being invited to wear the shoes of someone that’s losing their fight. I can understand anyone’s desire to share information and advice in the hope of helping other people. It’s the reason I blog. I also think the first rule of taking advice is to consider the situation of the person offering it. I would not, for example, take investment advice from someone that doesn’t invest, or health advice from someone who is unhealthy.

There’s a number of popular cancer related sources, including Facebook pages, blogs, web sites and web magazines that include some often radical advice from people with cancer. I’m sure it’s well meaning but when the author is advocating expensive and radical treatments that have failed to cure their cancer I’m going to be skeptical.

I’ve had quite a few people recommend Anna Kitson’s site at http://savingana.com

She also has a Facebook page.

Anna is now a regular contributor to Mamma Mia where she’s promoted as someone writing about what it’s like to die from stage four breast cancer.

Her site offers several pairs of very expensive and unusual looking shoes. Her recommendations include travelling to clinics (Kliniks) in Germany for treatment, taking expensive supplements, using hypothermia, sticking to a ketogenic diet, taking cannabis oil and considering some of the more radical alternative treatments. It’s possible that this advice is the reason she’s still alive eleven years after her diagnosis. Sadly, it’s also possible that none of it has made any difference to her health, although it’s surely had an impact on her bank balance.

It’s reasonable that she want you to walk a mile in her shoes, but keep in mind where those feet are headed.

I don’t have an easy formula for determining which advice to take and which to reject. ‘Trust your instincts’ is popular but terrible advice in my opinion. My instincts have often led me down darkened alleys to be beaten up by foreseeable consequences. I have distressingly seen ‘instincts’ cause people to reject mainstream medicine and to die cursing the alternative medicine practitioners. I’ve also seen some (but only a few) cases where rejecting mainstream medicine and implementing alternative methods resulted in a return to good health. The trouble with advising people to trust their instincts is that it invariably comes from people who, with the wisdom of hindsight, made a good choice. They seem to conveniently forget all of those times when their instincts helped them to make really bad decisions.

‘Trust science’ is also problematic because while I continue to be a fan of the double blind trial I keep three things in mind; firstly, a lot of research is funded by vested interests and there is a long history of this kind of influence having an impact on the integrity of any research; secondly, funding for research is limited and the ways that subjects are selected for research are often arbitrary which means a lot of potentially promising and beneficial treatments may not have research to support them; and thirdly, science is always evolving and changing which is both wonderful and frustrating. There’s no doubt that elements of the best possible cancer treatment you can get today will be obsolete at some time in the future, in some cases within a year.

Recently I’ve been researching diets in the hope of finding the best possible eating plan for avoiding recurrence. It’s interesting how many ‘sacred cows’ are being barbecued by the evidence. Low fat diets are bad for you, eggs will not raise your cholesterol and even lard (yes lard!) and butter might be new health foods!

When we look back at medical practices of a century ago, or even a decade ago, we can find much to criticise. This will be just as true of ‘modern medicine’ in a decades time, or with the wisdom that will come from a century of improvement. We don’t yet have a cure for cancer. A lot of the best available treatment comes with serious risks and side effects. Would you like bare feet or stilettoes to cross that fire pit?

I’ll keep learning and researching and sharing what I find. It’s likely that I’ll change shoes several times over the next year or so as I figure out what works for me. My aim is to prevent my cancer coming back. All advice comes with this caveat: We won’t know if any of my advice is worth taking for at least five years. It’s also worth remembering that we are all different and complex. What works for me might not work for you.

And as a final caution, I’m always very suspicious of anyone trying to sell me their shoes. It’s relatively easy to set up an impressive looking web site with what appears to be ‘scientific research’ and to market some new wonder product to cancer patients. There are possibly some well meaning people that are over-enthusiastic about something that shows potential and there are definitely plenty of people prepared to exploit anyone desperate for any hope of a cure. It’s always useful to ask ‘Who gains if I take this advice?’ particularly when large sums of money are involved.

Ultimately I’ll resort to gathering my own evidence, being open to what seems instinctively to be counter-intuitive, being prepared to learn and to change my mind and recognising that at some point, failing to make a decision could have worse consequences than choosing any of the reasonable options available to me.

So please, if you’d like to do so, try my shoes. But feel free to take them off again if they’re the least bit uncomfortable, and feel free to reject them completely if you can tell just by looking at them that they’re not for you.

 

A Warning About Calcium and Vitamin D Supplements

IMPORTANT HEALTH WARNING: New Scientist for the 30th of August 2014 has a great article about the current scientific research into vitamin and mineral supplements. It’s no surprise that most of them are useless. Vitamin D and Fish Oil get the tick but if you’re like a lot of post menopausal woman and taking a vitamin D supplement that includes calcium then please read this:

“Too much calcium from supplements can cause kidney stones. But of graver concern are risks to the heart. A five year trial of post menopausal women found that those taking the supplements were more likely to suffer a heart attack or a stroke than those who didn’t. A subsequent analysis confirmed the increased risk. As a result of such studies, medical advice is changing. Last year the US Preventative Services Task Force changed its guidance to recommend against the combination of calcium and vitamin D supplements for post menopausal women.”

So if you’re vitamin D deficient take a supplement that doesn’t contain calcium (in Australia, Blackmores make one) or better still, try to get the recommended amount of sunshine on bare skin for your location. New Scientist also published research about a year ago that established the superiority of sunshine over supplements.

This is particularly important for anyone facing chemotherapy. Oncologists typically (and sensibly) recommend a vitamin D supplement because we need to avoid direct sunlight during chemo. Many of the commercially available supplements, like ‘Caltrate’  contain calcium. Check to make sure you’re not taking something that might compromise your health.

I’m a big fan of A2 milk and get plenty of calcium in my diet. If you’re not a milk drinker then google ‘food sources of calcium’ to make sure you’re eating enough.