Tips From A Survivor: 16 Practical Tips to Help you Get Through Breast Cancer Treatment (Chemo, Mastectomy, and Radiation)

Today is National Cancer Survivors Day in the US, and while I love celebrating survivorship, I want to spend today reaching out to those who are newly diagnosed or just starting treatment. A gift, if you will, of my 19 months of treatment experience, and my 3 years experience of a survivor. 

A little background for those who are new to the blog and/or my Instagram: I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Triple Positive Invasive Ductal Carcinoma with lymph node involvement on February 28, 2018. I was 41 at the time, had just finished my probationary period at a new, wonderful job, had fixed my credit so I could finally buy a car again - I was on my way to great things. And then cancer hit.

Because of the aggressive nature of the cancer and how far along I was, my treatment had to start immediately. From the date of diagnosis to my first chemo infusion,

there were literally three weeks. It was a whirlwind of appointments, labwork, surgeries to install my medi-port for chemo, scans, a truckload of information, and a Grand Canyon sized cavern of fear and uncertainty that filled my chest. I was in pain, exhausted, and such a swirling mess of emotions I couldn't even recognize myself. 

All I knew is that I didn't have time for cancer and its bullshit, and I certainly wasn't ready to stop living at 41; so I allowed my Type A control freak self to go with the flow and start on the crazy 19 month ride of fighting breast cancer.

When I first started treatment, I thought I'd have all the time and energy in the world to chronicle my journey, so the newly diagnosed could have an idea of what to expect. I'd seen a lot of blogs and videos from cancer warriors who did the same, and they helped me immensely. 

Turns out I didn't have all the time, and certainly not the energy. Between a gazillion appointments and the extreme fatigue and malaise treatment brought about, I was too weak, exhausted and chemo-brainy to function the way I'm used to. The good intentions were there, but my brain simply wasn't able to handle it.

But it's been almost 2 years since I had my last chemo infusion, 1 year since my breakdown, and 2 months since my diagnosis of ADHD, which has helped me understand myself and adapt to how my brain is wired. My brain and I can do this now. And despite all that chemo, turns out the kickass memory I've always been known for is mainly intact. I remember everything.

I might make this a series, because there is so much I want to share. But right now, I want to give an overview of what might help those new to this ride, who are scared shitless and might be facing the same course of treatment I was. I had pretty much everything done to me, so I can speak to almost every experience (except Neulasta, thank goodness).

SO, without further ado, here are 16 of my top tips for getting through breast cancer treatment.

1. Bring a notebook with you to all your appointments.

I'm not kidding. Even if you're lucky enough to have someone go with you (I did most of this on my own), you're going to have questions, you'll be getting a TON of information - and you're going to forget ALL OF IT. It's not that you're not smart or capable - it's just overwhelming. It's like 4 years of school in a matter of weeks. Add to that the emotional component (hello, FEAR!), as well as whatever treatment and fatigue are doing to you at the time, you will forget stuff. So, have a dedicated notebook for your appointments, write your questions down before you go in (I found it easier to write them as I thought of them), and write down the answers and any new info when you see your oncologists and surgeons. 

2. Remember everybody - and everyone's body - is different.

You'll hear this so much you'll start rolling your eyes at it eventually. But I bring it up because it's SO important if you want to keep your head above water and not get too depressed playing the comparison game. 

Even with identical diagnoses, your body isn't going to respond the same way as the next patient's. Some people have a really easy time with radiation, for example. They say it's a "walk in the park". For me, it was the most traumatizing, painful part of the whole process. I burned severely and took a weeks to heal. And I did everything right, so I couldn't even blame myself. It's just how my skin responded.

Similarly, your journey as a whole won't be the same as everyone else's. We all come from different backgrounds, live in different cities and countries, and under different circumstances. Some people have wonderful support systems, with friends, and family, and entire neighborhoods pulling for them. Some have to go through it alone, and have to worry about things like lack of transportation and money to complicate an already difficult experience. Still others face devastating personal losses in the midst of treatment, like divorce or family estrangement.

Everyone's journey is just as valid as the next. So don't feel bad if you're not healing the same as someone else, or if you have a relatively easy time going through chemo. Your experience is 100% yours.

1. Take your anti-nausea meds like CLOCKWORK!

If you hate throwing up, you'll take this one to heart. I had a total of 16 rounds of chemo, but it was the first 6 that were the super toxic kind, the ones that really make you sick, lose your hair, etc. Of those six infusions, only one made me so sick I spent most of my time on the bathroom floor, too weak to move. It was the only infusion that made me cry. And it wasn't even because I didn't take my meds - I just ate too much of a yummy soup a friend had brought over, and it was way too rich for what a chemo stomach can handle. (Oops. I'd still totally have that soup again, though... it was delicious!) But it would have been way worse without my anti-nausea meds.

So, take your Zofran and any other anti-nausea meds your oncologist prescribes. Set alarms on your phone to help you remember to take them. The less nausea and vomiting, the more you'll be able to eat and keep down, which is essential to your strength. Which brings me to...

2. Eat if you can, and whatever your body will accept.

I've gotta admit I had it easier than most in this department. Except for having to give up things like tomatoes and a lot of my favorite high fiber foods (more on this in a future post), and turn my colorful meals beige, I was able to eat most things. My appetite did wane a lot, but I was still able to eat for the most part.

As much as you might not feel like it, especially on those post-steroid days when you're crashing hard, try to eat something or at least have a protein smoothie. You need to keep up your strength to handle the bombardment of cancer-fighting meds that were just pumped into your body. And you want to avoid any muscle-wasting, too, which is common for those who just aren't able to hold much in. 

3. Hydrate, hydrate, HYDRATE!

I'm going to preach about this a lot, being the Hydration Faerie and all. You need to stay hydrated for a few reasons: to help flush everything out; to keep things moving, gastrointestinally speaking (and to replenish what you've let go); and because chemo is very drying. Moisturizing will only go so far when it comes to chemo skin, so be sure to stay hydrated from within.

4. Rest!

This one seems like a no-brainer, but it's a good reminder for those who are used to being on the go all the time and suddenly have this shit hit you. It's humbling, if not somewhat annoying, to be forced to stay in bed or on the couch when you're used to walking miles a day, and working nonstop. But it's also a wonderful lesson, especially in our society of glorifying busy-ness. I think the pandemic shed some light on the fact that rest is just as important as being busy, but now that we're heading into a new normal, it's important to remember that you're fighting for your life, you're fighting the chemicals that are trying to kill the cancer, and it's perfectly okay to have some days when you can't do much more than nap.

5. Get some exercise

I just said you had to rest, but I didn't say all the time. It's important to move your body around as long as your body allows it. Some folks will have a terrible time during chemo and feel too weak for this. But if you can take advantage of your good days to get some exercise, do that. Not only will this help with preventing muscle wasting, it will help your overall health - and boost your mood. No need to run a couple miles a day if you can't, but if you can, that's awesome! You can stick to some walking or do some light yoga - it all counts.

1. Try to get a good night's sleep the night before. 

Key word here is "try". Whether your having a single or double mastectomy, it's emotionally and mentally difficult not to think about it into the wee hours of the morning. Especially if you're like me, constantly fraught with anxiety and not a fan of not being in control. But it will help your body get through the long day ahead, not to mention the actual operation. And it will help your mind cope better throughout the day. It's a lot to accept, this losing of your breasts. Do yourself a favor and at least rest so you can handle such a big change.

2. HYDRATE LIKE MAD before and after surgery

Are you sensing a trend here? Good! Because it's important to keep your body hydrated during cancer treatment and surgery. 

One thing they won't tell you until you start getting your pre-op instructions: you can't drink anything, not even water, about 12 hours before your surgery time. This is so you won't inadvertently puke during surgery. So, whether you're a water hog like me or not, you'll want to chug a lot before that 12 hour mark, because you won't get another chance until well after you wake up from anesthesia.

And after surgery... well, there's no delicate way to put this. Pain meds are constipating. Like, seriously. So just do yourself a favor and try to drink as much as you can while you're recovering. Your entire intestinal tract will thank you.

3. Invest in a U-shaped/pregnancy pillow.

You've seen them. The kind that you end up hugging more than your bedmate because it's so squishy and supportive, and doesn't complain about you cutting off their blood flow when you throw your leg on top. You won't be able to use it for the first few weeks after surgery because you'll be sleeping sitting up (unless you can rig a nice pillow system with the U-shaped pillow as the base in bed). But once you start sleeping horizontally again, this is a godsend! It'll be hard to sleep comfortably for a while, and you'll need all the support you can get. 

You can find some great ones on Amazon. Just be sure to measure yourself correctly, because the one I got was a little too short for my long ass legs. (I still love it though)

4. Keep everything at arm level.

This is especially helpful if you live alone and won't have too many helpers coming by or staying with you. For at least a month after surgery, you will basically be T-Rex. Your range of motion will be extremely limited, and it'll be hard to reach anything higher than shoulder level (if you can go that far). So, spend some time prepping your home in the weeks leading up to your surgery, especially in the kitchen and around your recovery chair or recliner (or bed). Keep your meds and supplies handy and reachable from that area, since you'll be reaching for those the most. 

5. Walk!

This isn't just a tip from me, it will be doctor's orders! You've got to get moving as much as possible, as soon as possible. The last thing you want to do is stiffen up like the tin man and be too rusty to move anything. Your goal is to return to normalcy as quickly and safely as possible, and regain your range of motion. Walking will help you start regaining your strength in the first few days after surgery, and as time goes on, it will help you in other areas as well. Remember what I said about pain meds being constipating? Give that water chugging a hand and move around, so everything else will, too. 

1. Communicate with your radiation techs.

You should communicate with all your nurses and doctors, but definitely ask questions of your rad techs so you know what's going on. Of all the types of treatment I had, this was the most mysterious, yet oddly fascinating. And rad techs seem to be more in their own little world than say, chemo nurses. So, ask them what a bolus is, have them explain the tattoos you'll be getting, and don't be afraid to tell them if you're to uncomfortable or just want to breathe as they line everything up correctly before beaming you.

2. Moisturize, and... you guessed it. HYDRATE!

You're getting zapped by rays of radiation that penetrate beneath the skin's surface to get to whatever nasty cancer cells are still hanging on. This is going to cause your skin to react even minimally, and the most common reactions are tightness and dryness. Like I said in the chemo section, moisturizing from the outside is great, but you need to hydrate from within to keep everything as supple as possible. You'll need to moisturize at least twice a day, but not too close to your radiation session so you don't have to wipe yourself down before starting. I suggest using Eucerin or Cetaphil Cream (not lotion), to lube up your equipment.

3. Domeboro Soaks & Xeroform

This is for my fellow radiation burn patients ONLY. I truly hope you don't burn. A lot of people don't, but many of us do, despite staying moisturized and hydrated, and following every instruction they give you. (Don't let anyone guilt you into thinking it's your fault if you do burn after following instructions!) 

Some will just experience a deep tan; others, like me, will burn badly. I peeled, I oozed, I was red as a tomato - it was bad. My radiation oncologist suggested Domeboro Medicated Soaks, which is this little powder made of different astringent minerals that help soothe and dry out your wounds, and help them heal a little faster.

Xeroform is a type of medicated bandage I got through my surgeon, who happened to see me for a regular follow up while I was going through the worst of radiation. Each sheet is coated in an antibiotic ointment and, when placed on open burn wounds, can help them heal faster, prevent infection, and keep them protected from clothing or other things like gauze. This was another godsend for me, and I was very grateful to have been introduced to this. You can find both products on Amazon.

4. Rest, rest, rest!

Radiation therapy is often touted as the "easy" part of treatment, but here's what a lot of sites won't tell you: Radiation is exhausting. It's okay for the first several appointments, but right around the end of the first week, you start feeling it. Partly because these sessions are daily, and if you're holding down a job in addition to doing rads, you'll find it's a tiring schedule. But mainly, you're tired because you're being zapped by radiation beams from a weird, spaceship-looking machine that has an attitude (seriously, at certain angles it looks like Eric Cartman getting all huffed about not having enough pie). 

So if you're tired, rest. Take naps if you need to, or try going to bed earlier. If you're working out, that's great; but maybe consider cutting down the amount or intensity of the workouts you're doing, so you're not draining your energy. It may not seem as invasive as chemo or surgery, but radiation treatments are still... treatment. Your ass will be kicked, and it will be progressive. So, get some rest.

MOST IMPORTANTLY...

You're fighting for your life here. You're going to be a mess sometimes. You're going to cry and feel depressed and angry. You're going to look so different when you lose all your hair (and I mean all of it). Your body will change inside and out while you're going through treatment. You'll be bombarded with information and MISinformation (cancer muggles are the worst). You'll lose your enjoyment of certain foods, and become afraid of everyone else's germs. 

If you have bad days, and you want to scream or cry or just wish things were as they used to be, then let yourself feel that. What you're going through is so hard, the hardest fight any of us will ever know. It's okay to break down, it's okay to not tolerate chemo or radiation too well. It's okay if you're not always sweetness and light, or you're tired of coloring books. 

You're fighting cancer, fighting for your life. There's no need to be perfect, and no right or wrong way to do this. So cut yourself some slack, and just do it. 

I know you can. 💓