Cancer and PTSD

"Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it." - Michel de Montaigne

My seniors have started my favorite novel of the year: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. (If you haven't read it, do so immediately if not sooner.) The narrative is told from the perspective of Chief, who is a paranoid schizophrenic - institutionalized in a psych ward in the early 1960s.

As part of the unit we go over various mental illnesses including Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), which is generally defined as an anxiety disorder that a person can develop after experiencing or seeing a life-threatening or extremely frightening event. As I was reading my notes on PTSD I began wondering if those who survived cancer could develop the disorder.

Sure enough, I found several articles explaining that cancer patients (and their caregivers) are at risk for developing PTSD - especially if they had long hospital stays, cancer recurrences, or painful treatments. One of the most interesting pieces of information I found explained what are called "protective factors" - or variables that decrease a cancer patient's risk for developing PTSD, which include increased social support, accurate information about the stage of cancer, and a satisfactory relationship with their medical team.

I survived severe trauma as a child and young adult, which is probably why I never reacted negatively to my cancer diagnosis. People thought I was so brave - handling my surgeries so nonchalantly, but really it was probably just a coping mechanism I'd developed from a very young age... avoiding the reality of the danger by burying it.

I don't think any cancer patient ever forgets the reality that the cancer could come back. My doctors all tell me not to worry, but I continually hear stories identical to mine (carcinoid in the appendix, followed by a totally clean right hemicolectomy) that end with mets in the liver.  Sometimes I feel stuck and don't want to plan too far into the future just in case it returns. That's no way to live - it's like you're constantly sitting on the edge of your seat in a horror movie as the score crescendos, right before the dumb girl goes to "check out a noise" in the basement... where the killer lurks.

There is a  NJ carcinoid support group that has been on my radar for a while. Perhaps I should make it a priority to go.

Good Links:
Cancer.net Article on Cancer and PTSD
National Cancer Institute's Article on PTSD
Breast Cancer and PTSD

Happy St. Patrick's Day (1976)

I am half Italian and half Irish, so dressing me up in traditional Irish get-ups for St. Patrick's day was always a fun grown-up pastime in my house. My step-dad is also Irish, and the following blessing hangs in my mother's home:

Irish Luck

Ample food and sturdy drink,

A clean pillow for your head,

And my you be forty years

in heaven

B'fore the Devil knows you're dead.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all my friends and family - wishing you the luck of the Irish now and always.

Dress from Ireland - 1976

Irish Temper and Italian Attitude = one Sassy 3-year old

My maiden name (revealed on shamrock) is Gibbons. Later we learned my father's family name was "McGibbon" before they immigrated

Dinner Party Cuteness

Tomorrow, our handcrafted dining room table from Vermont is scheduled to be delivered, which means that we will be (hopefully) hosting our first ever dinner party very soon. I was looking for something that would bring some whimsy to a Spring dinner with friends... and uncovered these adorable "Marshmallow Favors" from a 1965 McCall's Family Style Cookbook (thanks to Retro Kitchen) and some "Little Lamb Cupcakes" by Food Network... (Click HERE for recipe). I'm excited to try these fun ideas out -  since I think that we could all use an extra dose of cuteness in our lives these days.

Day at Balboa Park

Artist studio at Balboa Park in San Diego

Whenever I don't write a blog for a while, I always want to start out like a 13-year-old girl who has neglected her bubble-gum pink puffy-vinyl covered diary for too long (ok - like a 1980s 13-year-old):

Dear Diary,
Sorry I haven't written for so long diary. A lot has happened. 

Truth is, a lot HAS happened... not the least of which was that I finished out the rest of my wonderful vacation with my mom. One of my favorite days was the one we spent together in Babloa Park - where we ate calamari fries, meditated at the Japanese tea gardens, marveled at the Spanish colonial architecture, and took a trip to the world famous San Diego Zoo (where I got some GREAT shots of my favorite zebra pals).

Since I've been back in Jersey, I've been able to see two movies (Pina and The Artist), throw a surprise birthday party for my boyfriend, and had my yearly teaching review.

And I got sick.

So I guess all I can say is - I'm back modern-blogger-diary, and I'll try to write more often in the future.

Japanese Tea Garden at Balboa Park

One of the Many Amazing Buildings at Balboa Park