It's been said that a cancer diagnosis is the start of a particularly scary roller-coaster ride, for the person dealing with the disease and for the people who love them.
However, 25-year-old journalist and former Manor resident, Cheyenne (Geysen) Chartrand describes it as a dance. Chartrand was diagnosed with Stage IIA Hodgkin's Lymphoma on November 26, 2014, after months of feeling unwell. Her symptoms started in July, but by the time she received a definite diagnosis, the cancer had spread, resulting in her illness being categorized as stage II. This meant the self-described “wife, puppy momma to four adorable fur kids, writer, runner, thinker and doer,” added “cancer patient” to the list, as she started an intense course of chemotherapy immediately.
And she also added another line to that list- “blogger”-as she continues to chronicle,with unflinching honesty, all aspects her fight with Hodgkin's lymphoma on her blog, “Dancing with Dr. Hodge.”
“Why 'Dancing with Dr. Hodge'? What do I mean exactly?” writes Chartrand.
“When I was first diagnosed with Hodgkin's, I said, 'I'm not going to let this define who I am.' I also said things like, 'When this is over, it's over. I'm never thinking about it again.'”
“That frame of mind lasted about an hour after my first chemo treatment,” continues Chartrand. “While I was leaning over the toilet throwing up everything I'd eaten for what felt like the last three months, I realized that I'd been wrong. So very wrong. I realized it again when I laid awake with misery, pain and fear that first night.”
“My hope is that my blog can be a tool for others,” she writes. “Before I began my own treatment, I scoured the Internet in hopes of finding out more about what to expect. During my treatments, I drew inspiration from people who had successfully completed theirs.”
“There is a new vulnerability to me that never existed before Dr. Hodge entered my carefree life...I'd never faced my own mortality before Dr. Hodge quietly made a home in my body.”
“I will be forever changed by Dr. Hodge. I will never stop dancing with him, even when he no longer lives in my body.”
In the post, 'What's chemo really like?', Chartrand not only details her gruelling drug regimen and the equally-gruelling ways the drugs are administered. She also walks readers through the entire process of (what quickly becomes) a routine visit to the cancer clinic, as well as “tips and tricks”-such as chewing gum and eating something small before treatment-that might possibly make the process of receiving chemotherapy easier.
During her first three treatments, Chartrand's sickness and constant nausea prompted her oncologist to say that he'd never seen anyone get as sick as she did with the chemotherapy drugs she received.
In an attempt to explain how she felt, she told her husband, Evan (Chartrand), “I feel like I don't have a stomach.”
Even the so-called minor side effects of cancer treatment can be unexpectedly unpleasant.
After drinking her usual morning coffee before her first treatment, Chartrand became violently ill, and “because of that, I have trouble with coffee now.”
“Sometimes I can taste the saline,” she writes. “It makes me want to throw up. I've taken to carrying gum in my chemo bag and if I even think I taste the saline, I immediately start chewing gum. I chose a flavour I wasn't crazy over but still enjoyed, in case I find I can't chew it anymore (like the coffee.)”
As well as chemotherapy's obviously punishing side effects, the 25-year-old newlywed has had to make some tough decisions regarding possible side effects from the life-saving drugs she receives.
“Before chemo started, I was given a pulmonary function test to create a benchmark to test my lung function post chemo...I also received MUGA (multi-gated aquistion scan) which creates video images of the lower ventricles of the heart to ensure it is pumping properly. Again, this is a benchmark to test heart function post chemo, because doxorubicin (one of Chartrand's chemotherapy drugs) can cause heart problems.”
“I also knew that chemotherapy could potentially affect fertility, and while (the doctor) told me that he'd had some patients that come back for their six-month check up pregnant, I was convinced I would end up barren and unable to give my husband children unless I did something about it.”
“If we did nothing, my reproductive cycle would've continued on as normal,” adds Chartrand. “I.e. my body would produce a set amount of eggs every month and then expel them when they weren't fertilized. The problem with that option, as explained by my ob/gyn, was two-prong: eggs are by nature, rapidly dividing cells. This type of cell is exactly what chemo targets, because cancer cells are also rapidly dividing. So the chemo would attack my eggs. Secondly, a woman only produces a set amount of eggs. So basically, if chemo is attacking them, I could just run out. It wasn't a guarantee that I would, but she laid it out as a possibility.”
A visit to the ob/gyn gave the Chartrands some options to consider, “which ranged from doing nothing and hoping for the best (no way!) to spending roughly $10,000 on in vitro ferilization.”
Although many women with Hodgkin's lymphoma choose IVF (which is the option that is most likely to result in a pregnancy), the Chartrands ruled it out, largely because of the cost and partly because of the increased physical demands it would place on Cheyenne.
The Chartrands decided on what Cheyenne calls their “middle of the road choice.” In addition to the drug regimen that is tasked with fighting her cancer, she takes monthly shots of Lupron, a drug which essentially shuts down the female reproductive cycle.
“It eliminates eggs being produced,” she explains. “Which means the chemo won't attack them. It is our hope that once I stop taking these shots, i.e. after I'm finished chemo treatments, my reproductive system will just go back to normal...”
“Lupron isn't the easiest thing to manage. It's essentially menopause at 25. So it comes with its own challenges-mood swings, hot flashes (mainly being dealt with through a daily estrogen pill), forgetfulness, that kind of stuff. But given our choices, we felt that it was the best option for us.”
Chartrand's blog not only documents the physical upheavals that accompany her cancer diagnosis and treatment; she also writes about cancer's formidable financial challenges, which were exacerbated with Cheyenne's unexpected job loss, and rigger husband Evan's employment being adversely affected by the downturn in the oilpatch.
“Since diagnosis, I haven't been working,” writes Chartrand. “This wasn't a choice or part of the 'plan.' But I'm learning very quickly that when you're dealing with a serious illness, you really can't plan.”
While searching for a journalism job, Chartrand took a position managing a retail outlet in Regina. After her cancer diagnosis, she told her boss about her illness and the pair came up with a plan that would allow Chartrand to continue working and to “wiggle around the schedule as I needed to, for doctor's appointments, treatments, etc.”
One chemo treatment in, Chartrand received the news that her workplace was closing its doors. “I truly believe it had nothing to do with me personally-it was a business choice they had to make. Nonetheless, it left me without a job.”
“Like many, I tend to base my self-worth around how well I do at my job,” she writes.
However, the uncertainty of never knowing “how chemo or cancer itself is going to affect me from day-to-day,” makes a job hunt difficult, if not impossible.
The ups and downs of dealing with job loss, insurers, and the thousands of dollars of drugs that are part of a cancer patient's arsenal, as well as everyday expenses such as mortgage payments and groceries have left the couple making hard choices; including agonizing over the cost of a wig for Cheyenne.
Describing their eventual decision as “I broke down and bought a wig,” Chartrand devotes an entire blog post to the subject of wants versus needs, and the guilt she feels over the purchase.
In an attempt to economize, the couple starts out their search for a wig at “ a few novelty stores and I tried on some Halloween wigs.”
Eventually, the pair “break down” and go to a specialty store in Winnipeg, where-much to her surprise- Chartrand “left with a blondie on my head.”
Along with practical and heartfelt advice for others diagnosed with cancer, Chartrand offers an entire post entitled: 'But what can I do?' aimed at anyone wanting to help someone with cancer. Her advice ranges from offering rides to appointments, throwing a fundraiser, offering to listen, and more.
Chartrand also writes with eloquence, honesty, and humour about the struggle to keep friendships afloat and the hard lessons that come with cancer.
“I miss the ignorance I had of how life can change in an instant,” she writes.
“I miss all the lighthearted friendships I had-all of my relationships are forced to be much deeper now, because I just can't stand superficiality. I can't even do small talk anymore. Gossip drives me up the wall.”
“And,” she continues, “I get irrationally angry when someone who is perfectly healthy complains about their 'terrible' lot in life. I know that's not fair, but it's part and parcel of the 'new me.'”
“I don't know if I'll be like this forever, but for now-anger is my response to people who complain when they really should be opening their eyes and realizing how lucky they are.”
“Terminal or not-and I am so grateful to be diagnosed with a curable type-cancer changes you. For better or worse, you're a different person at the end of the battle than you were at the beginning.”
“I feel that a lot of my personality changes have been good,” writes Chartrand. “For the most part, I stress a lot less. I try to be much more empathetic. It takes a lot more to annoy me these days. I've realized the importance of spending time with those who care about you.”
“I now know without a doubt, riskes are for the taking, because you just never know what tomorrow might bring.”
At press time, Chartrand is awaiting the results of her latest scan, having completed chemotherapy. The couple is still experiencing significant financial stress, and a GoFundMe account has been set up in their names at: http://www.gofundme.com/nnkzxs or at GoFundMe.com Help Chey beat Hodgkins Lymphoma.
To read more from Chartrand, follow her blog at http://dancingwithdrhodge.com (Language warning).
