Bonnie Annis

Bonnie Annis is a breast cancer survivor, diagnosed in 2014 with stage 2b invasive ductal carcinoma with metastasis to the lymph nodes. She is an avid photographer, freelance writer/blogger, wife, mother and grandmother.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, my world seemed to crumble in a matter of seconds. As a person used to having complete control over most of my life situations, suddenly, I had none.

The breast specialist sent me to a breast surgeon who went into detail about my disease, treatment plan, and possible future. While we talked, I listened intently, making mental notes. When it came time to discuss treatment options, I became easily overwhelmed with the number of decisions before me.

The doctor wanted to make sure I understood risks associated with each portion of the plan. While I was thankful that she was astute, I wished she hadn’t shared so much information.

When we talked about chemotherapy, she asked what I knew about it. I only knew what I’d heard others share. They’d talked about extreme fatigue, nausea, peripheral neuropathy, and hair loss. She asked if I was worried about any of those side effects and I squirmed in my seat. I was afraid of losing my crowning glory the most. It seemed petty and trite to mention my concern over the possibility of losing my locks, but I told the truth. I feared going bald.

I was surprised at the doctor’s reaction to my statement. She smiled and said, “No worries!” I thought, “That’s easy for you to say, it’s not your head.” She went on to explain there were new medical implements that helped prevent baldness, like a special cooling cap I could try. I listened as she continued, “There are no guarantees, but if you do find yourself losing hair, you can always use Minoxidil, a hair restoration product.”

Leaving her office that day overladen with facts and information, I decided to become proactive. I would cut my hair before cancer had a chance to take it and I’d buy some Minoxidil to keep on hand, just in case. I also decided to order a wig or two. A Dolly Parton wig catalog had come in the mail a few days earlier. I’d seen some cute ones there. I’d opt for one short wig and one long one. Afterall, if Dolly could do it, so could I.

A week before bilateral mastectomies, I had my hair cut into a short pixie and donated my hair to Locks of Love. For some strange reason, I felt less cancerous with the new look. I rationalized if I lost my hair to cancer treatment, at least the locks would be shorter and not make such a mess.

After the haircut, I stopped by the drugstore and bought two bottles of Minoxidil. When I slipped the bottles on the counter at checkout, I heard someone behind me whisper, “Vanity thy name is woman.”

As it turned out; I chose to forego chemotherapy. My decision was based on information from the Oncotype DX report and after researching potential damage chemotherapy could pose to vital organs.

So, I’d cut my hair for nothing and had spent money unnecessarily.

Today, a bottle of Minoxidil sits on the bathroom counter. My husband left it there. The other day I told him his hair had started to thin. I pulled out the hair serum from beneath the cabinet and handed it to him thinking it couldn’t hurt and it would be great if it helped.

Sometimes, hearing you have cancer can affect a person’s behavior in odd ways. While many choose to become proactive, others become reactive.

Immediately after diagnosis, I also met with a lawyer to draw up my last will and testament. I thought I was doing my family a favor by thinking ahead and preparing for the worst, but chances are, I’ll outlive them all.

I still sign up for breast cancer walks and fundraisers. I wear my survivor gear proudly. And I’m still learning to be present in the moment while I plan my tomorrows.

But recently, I’ve noticed I seem to be shedding. There seems to be more of my shoulder length hair in the bottom of the shower than there used to be, but I’m not too worried. I’ve got wigs in the closet and if worse comes to worse, I’ll pull them out.

I don’t know why I’m so preoccupied with hair, but I’ve always wondered what I’d look like bald. With my luck, I would be one of the ones with an ugly, mishappen head.

Six years have passed since my meeting with the breast surgeon and cancer reminders seem to be everywhere but living on bonus time reminds me of how very differently things could have gone.

I’ve already warned my family, if I decide to act a little crazy in the future, don’t worry. I’ve got a good excuse. I can always blame it on the cancer. It’s a good excuse, sometimes.

Articles

Cancer Can Affect A Person’s Behavior in Odd Ways

Six years have passed since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. During that time, I’ve finally realized it’s OK to grieve the loss of my breasts and all things pertaining to life before cancer.

Many people, upon hearing the word grief, immediately associate the emotion with bereavement. It seems acceptable in our world to grieve the loss of a loved one, but unheard of to grieve the loss of body parts.

Often, life changes can stimulate grieving. In my case, breast cancer was the ultimate life change.

At first, I didn’t realize I was grieving. I assumed those feelings of sadness were part of the journey. I didn’t associate those feelings with grief. It was not until I read about the range of emotions others with cancer faced that I understood it’s OK to grieve. Everything I read said grief was a natural part of the healing process.

In high school, one of our required assignments was to read “On Death and Dying” by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. In her research, Kübler-Ross identified five stages of grief that apply to any major loss in a person’s life:

The first stage, denial, helped a person deal with emotional pain from big life changes. Like the valve on a pressure cooker, denial tempers emotions and prevents them from becoming overwhelming. Anger helped a person work through feelings by providing a form of emotional release. Bargaining came when someone tried to cope with a situation beyond their control and tried to find ways of handling feelings of helplessness. The next step, guilt or depression, came as a person began to understand the gravity of the situation and acceptance came when a person no longer resisted the inevitable.

However, the stages of grief don’t always come in order, especially with a disease like cancer. Often a person will jump from stage to stage and then back again. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.A person may grieve for days, weeks or years. All of these are perfectly normal.

With breast cancer, waves of grief may come immediately after diagnosis, much later after surgery, or anytime in between.

To this day, I’ll look in the mirror at my scars. They remind me of all I’ve experienced over the past six years. At times, I feel like a strong survivor. Other times, I feel the heaviness of deep sorrow over losing parts of my body. When I feel that overpowering sense of grief, I remind myself it’s OK to grieve.

Death and dying are part of life. The Bible says, “It’s appointed unto man once to die…” Even if I’d never received a diagnosis of breast cancer, I’d eventually die from some malady. Thankfully, I’m still alive.

“It's only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on Earth - and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up, we will then begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it was the only one we had.”

A cancer diagnosis isn’t always a death sentence even though that’s often the first thought of the one receiving the news. Facing the loss of body parts can often be easier to accept than losing faith in our body.

Coping with loss is challenging but hopefully, you’ll find a way to process your feelings and move on. There are several helpful ways to accomplish this:

Acknowledge your feelings – Give yourself permission to feel what you’re feeling. It’s a very personal experience.

Give your feelings place – Honor your feelings. Accept them for what they are and be OK with experiencing them fully.

Write it down – If you’re unable to verbally express your feelings, journaling may help.

Get plenty of rest – Pay attention to your body. A well-rested body is less likely to become overly emotional.

Pay attention to triggers – There are certain things that may trigger feelings of grief. Memories of cancer-related milestones can be among the most challenging.

Accept your new normal – Be gentle with yourself and give yourself time to adapt to change.

Grief can be filled with ups and downs. It takes courage to work through the gamut of emotions that come with a cancer diagnosis.

“It has been said that time heals all wounds. The truth is that time does not heal anything. It merely passes. It is what we do during the passing of time that helps or hinders the healing process,” said Jay Marshall.

It seems acceptable in our world to grieve the loss of a loved one, but unheard of to grieve the loss of body parts.

It’s OK to Grieve the Loss of My Breasts to Cancer

I was clueless when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The fear of the unknown was overwhelming. I had so many questions but didn’t have any answers. I did however find a group of breast cancer survivors through Facebook and quickly joined.

The post pinned at the top of the group’s page said that all questions were accepted, and the administrator of the group posted that no topic was off limits and that all posts would be kept confidential.

As someone who had many questions with very little answers, I quickly decided to join the group.

I perused the page for several months and quickly became “virtual friends” with some of the women. The ladies in the group became a wonderful resource. They were gracious and kind when I’d ask a question.

But one topic seemed off limits and it was one I really wanted to discuss — sex. At first, I was afraid to bring it up. Although I assumed that I wouldn’t be openly judged, it felt odd to discuss such a sensitive topic with complete strangers. But as I’d scroll through daily posts, I found I wasn’t the only one interested in post-cancer intimacy. There seemed to be others who needed answers.

Everything I’d read indicated people didn’t openly talk about their sex lives, at least those with severe health issues didn’t. But I found, after cancer treatment, many would admit, the physical relationship with their spouse had changed. What once had been a spontaneous and natural relationship had become uncomfortable and difficult. And, many who’d admitted their struggles chose to deal with it alone instead of trying to find help because they were embarrassed to do so.

I was thankful when the topic of sex gained popularity in the Facebook group. The administrator posted questions and wanted the members to share their thoughts. According to the responses, the reasons many were struggling in their sexual relationships was due to physical pain. The second opinion in the poll indicated emotional distress to be a huge factor. Some women posted comments regarding mastectomy. They indicated losing one or both breasts greatly affected their self-esteem and negatively impacted their desire for sexual intimacy. I was surprised at their candor.

What I discovered, through the online poll, was that some women found talking about post-cancer sex easy, but for others, including myself, it was a challenge. And I wondered why that was the case.

I’d always been raised to believe sex was supposed to be a wonderful part of marriage. It was designed to bring fulfillment to both members of a relationship. While I understood health challenges could certainly affect that area of a person’s life, I wondered why those who’d faced cancer-related intimacy issues didn’t want to share.

® recently suggested some relevant topics for VOICES contributor submissions, I looked through the short list. I’m always looking for something new and interesting to write about. One topic on that list grabbed my attention but frightened me at the same time — sex.

At first, I didn’t want to write about sex. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I needed to do it. From day one, I have always tried to be open and honest about my breast cancer journey. And, I have always felt it was important to share all aspects of my journey in hopes that something I share might help others. So, I pulled up my big girl panties and made the commitment. I would broach the subject as best I could.

It was many months after my treatment ended before my husband and I decided to become intimate. I’d felt self-conscious and wanted to wait. My husband was patient and understanding but when the time felt right, we decided to try.

That evening, we scheduled a time where we could relax and enjoy being together without distractions or interruptions. Neither of us had expectations. We were in uncharted territory. What we did know was we loved each other and wanted to be together.

Since losing my breasts, I hadn’t felt very feminine, so I decided to put on some lingerie in hopes of hiding my chest.

The evening began with gentle caresses and tender touches. As we shared our love, I noticed areas of sensitivity and discomfort. Whenever a touch was uncomfortable, I’d whisper in my husband’s ear and he’d focus on another area.

As we continued to reconnect, I realized I’d lost all feeling in my chest. The nerves had been severed during surgery and my torso was completely numb. I realized, what once had been a source of pleasure was no longer.

To protect our privacy, I won’t share the remainder of the details from that evening but suffice to say, we quickly learned to change and adapt to many of the challenges breast cancer brought our way.

I did some digging as I wanted to learn more about post-cancer intimacy and the issues many men and women face. I found there are many books on the subject.

A consensus, included in the information that I read, indicated that feeling anxious or uncomfortable toward sex after surgery or treatment was completely normal, especially for those who hadn’t been intimate in some time. I was glad to learn that! Continuing to read, I gathered valuable information which included important things to remember like:

Don’t attempt a physical relationship until you are ready;

Be willing to adapt and try new things, and

, “The most uncomfortable stuff to talk about is probably your sex life and the changes that have taken place with your illness. You may not know what needs fixing or how to fix it, but you know things are different.”

Many women report having less sex than before their illness, for several reasons:

The breast cancer experience slows down your body. It takes longer to do lots of things, including getting interested in, as well as starting and finishing, sexual intercourse.

Sex may be uncomfortable or even painful if you've been thrown into sudden-onset menopause. No surprise that you tend to have less sex, for now. Many women may have had little or no sex from the time of diagnosis through treatment.

Most people have wild ideas about what goes on in other people's bedrooms. Give yourself a break: The carefully researched book 

 (by Michael, Gagnon, Laumann, and Kolata) tells us that Americans have a lot less sex than the movies, television, and the guys in the locker room would have you believe. The averages reported in that book are:

seven times a month between ages 30 and 40;

six times a month between ages 40 and 50, and

five times a month between ages 50 and 60.

For people over 60, the numbers continue to decline. But although you may assume that no one in their 70s and 80s has a sex life, that's just not so, the authors wrote.

Whew! It helped a lot to understand everyone’s sex life is very different and there’s no gold standard for what should or shouldn’t happen, especially post cancer. And, experts agreed, even if sexual activity has decreased or even stopped, it was OK. There were still ways to maintain closeness with a partner. Sex did not need to be the focus. Some survivors found contentment in holding hands, cuddling, hugging, and kissing.

My husband and I discovered, as we took the pressure off our relationship, by removing the sex equation, we had freedom to reconnect in ways we never imagined. It has taken time and it hasn’t always been easy, but we’ve managed to rekindle that precious part of our lives.

Discussing the topic of post-cancer sex can be challenging, but there are many good resources available. Some of the ones we found most helpful include:

Breast Cancer Husband: How to Help Your Wife (And Yourself) During Diagnosis, Treatment, and Beyond

Sex and Cancer: Intimacy, Romance, and Love after Diagnosis and Treatment

Sex and Cancer: Six Weeks to Better Sex for Couples During and after Cancer Treatment

The Breast Cancer Survival Manual, Sixth Edition: A Step-by-Step Guide for Women with Newly Diagnosed Breast Cancer

Through a Facebook poll, I discovered that some women found talking about post-cancer sex easy, but for others, including myself, it was a challenge. And I wondered why that was the case.

Sex After Cancer: The Topic No One Wants to Talk About

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2014, I knew it was going to be a tough road because I'd watched my mother-in-law go through breast cancer years earlier.

Although I didn't know everything that would come my way, I thought I was well-equipped to fight the disease. What I didn't realize was how difficult the battle would be. My doctors had made sure I knew about the changes my body would endure so I was ready for the physical trauma. But, no one said a thing about the emotional trauma I'd face. That was a big surprise.

My physical recovery went well. Of course, there were a few bumps in the road along the way, but my medical team quickly addressed those. What really concerned me was the way I was feeling emotionally. I'd find myself crying at the drop of a hat or feeling extremely anxious. Sometimes, I felt depressed. It felt like my emotions were all over the place. I'd always been so strong and suddenly, I felt like I was falling apart. I wondered what was happening to me.

I almost jumped out of my skin one day when a bag of rice I had forgotten to make a tear in to vent the steam exploded in the microwave. That's when I knew I needed help.

When I was making an appointment with the oncologist, I shared my problems. He listened with a sympathetic ear and explained anxiety and depression were common challenges patients face after cancer. Anxiety, he said, often occurred when someone was faced with a new challenge in life and felt frightened by the experience. Feeling shaky or nervous, having heart palpitations or rapid breathing were all symptoms of anxiety, he added.

Depression, according to the doctor, was when a person faced a challenge that seemed insurmountable causing the person to give up hope. It was common, he explained, for women to suffer from reactive depression, a short-term depression brought on by a traumatic event like breast cancer.

After an evaluation, the doctor felt I was suffering from post-cancer post-traumatic stress disorder and suggested a mild anti-anxiety medication.

I was hesitant about taking Xanax, but agreed to try a low dose for a few weeks. I chose not to share the information with family because I didn't want to face a barrage of questions or comments.

The medication proved helpful. After one dose, I felt more relaxed and at ease. I was thankful the doctor prescribed it.

A few months later, fearing I might become dependent on the medication, I asked to meet with a naturopath at the cancer treatment center who was very helpful. He advised a trial of Ashwagandha instead of Xanax. Ashwagandha, he explained, was an Ayurvedic herb used to treat anxiety. The Ashwagandha proved to be a wonderful replacement for Xanax.

Six years after my initial diagnosis, I still struggle with anxiety especially in crowded spaces, around loud noises, or in situations that are unfamiliar.

After a traumatic event, such as breast cancer, it's important for a person to self-monitor. Feelings of anxiety or depression can be debilitating, but there's no reason to suffer in silence.

A cancer diagnosis often comes with little to no warning. This can trigger the body's stress response. The mind perceives danger and the body begins to send hormones like cortisol and adrenaline into overdrive causing blood pressure to rise, the heart to race, and pupils to dilate.

The first step toward controlling anxiety is to identify the problem. Next, it might be helpful to take some deep breaths. Breathing in and out slowly will help calm a racing heart and ease a troubled mind. Ask yourself what it is you are afraid of and if the threat is real or a perceived one. It might be helpful to talk with someone about your concerns, whether it be a family member, a trusted friend, or a medical professional. You may also find using a technique called self-talk helpful. During a self-talk session, one speaks of encouragement like: "I can do this", "There's nothing to fear", and "This too, shall pass."

There's no shame in admitting a need for help. Cancer is an emotionally-trying disease. No one can predict when feelings of anxiety or depression may occur. It's a challenge to meet the physical demands of breast cancer, but it's also important to acknowledge the emotional side of cancer. Don't let emotional side effects become debilitating and know that it's OK to seek help.

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional and do not claim to be. The advice given in this post is based on personal experience but before implementing any of these treatments, please consult your physician.

Author | Bonnie Annis

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