The Vital Plan: How I was introduced.
As I shared in my first post, I was at Self Care Therapy, in Wilmington, NC for Lymphedema treatment. My therapist, David Wilson, shared a book with me, which was written by Dr. William C. Rawls, Jr., The Vital Plan. David's wife, Courtney Wilson, RN, FNPc, studied under and adopted Dr. Rawls' philosophy of "first do no harm", etc.
I started thumbing through the book and was immediately interested. It also motivated me right away to change my bad habits. The Vital Plan explained how intrusive treatments, or treatments that only treat the symptoms, can lead to major problems, such as cancer, without really diagnosing the causes of these symptoms. In other words, many health care providers prescribe antibiotics for an illness without first looking at what is causing the illness. Interesting concept, I thought.
I am 51 years old. I have been given antibiotics hundreds (really) of times in my life. I have had endless ear infections, sinus infections, throat infections, etc. Then came the Panic Disorder time in my life where I thought if I wasn't taking an antibiotic I was surely going to die.
Did my ingestion of antibiotics cause the Inflammatory Breast Cancer? WHO KNOWS! Whenever someone asks me what caused it, I tell them that my mother probably walked by a factory sometime when she was growing up or even pregnant with me, and she inhaled some noxious substance. I say that jokingly, of course.
The strange thing is that, when I started really looking into causes of cancer, I found that one drug or vitamin supplement that prevents one kind of cancer, actually causes another kind. But, skimming through The Vital Plan, I realized that it was time that I take my future into my own hands.
I realize that, because I have had cancer, and now have Lymphedema, I can't subscribe completely to not taking antibiotics when I get sick. And Dr. Rawls takes these circumstances into account. It's really about a lifestyle change.
There's so much information on organic this and all natural that. I was skeptical. Now, I make sure I'm more informed. Just because something is ORGANIC or ALL NATURAL, doesn't mean it is safe.
For example, take Tea Tree Oil, an all natural essential oil used for many, many things, such as nail fungus, dandruff, acne, mold, and the list goes on and on. But, did you know that Pregnant or nursing women, or those with hormone sensitive cancers should avoid tea tree oil. Those of us with hormone related cancers, such as breast, ovarian, etc., have a very high rate of recurrence when coming in contact with Tea Tree Oil.
I had no idea. I used to use Tea Tree Oil on my nails before I was diagnosed! Don't take my word for it--do your own research.
So, with reading "The Vital Plan", I became obsessed with Pinterest, and from there, researching organic/all natural alternatives. Some are good, http://pinterest.com/some aren't. My point is, be informed before you assume something is great for you because it is all natural.
Next time, I will discuss changes I need to make in my life and more about some interesting facts I have found out about "all natural" remedies!
Showing posts with label Jr M.D.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jr M.D.. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
Continuation of introduction.
So, when I left off last time, I had just been diagnosed.
Long story short--we were devastated. My husband was calling people upstairs and I could hear him crying. He was researching, too. I'm usually the researcher, but I just couldn't do it. We told my daughters and my father and uncle (who both live with us). It was surreal-that's all I can say.
The rest of the week was insane! Biopsies the next day, answer the day after that that it was definitely cancer. But, it would take a week to know exactly what kind. We went to RI and had a bittersweet visit. I felt like this was the last time I was going to see everyone, and they felt the same. It was really hard. That Wednesday, the doctor called as promised, with the results. Inflammatory Breast Cancer, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Not good.
The following Monday, I met with my "second opinion" Oncologist. I had a list of questions to ask her that was three pages long. I had gotten these specific questions from my online support group. My husband, Alan, found it the first day I was diagnosed.
I really liked the doctor and, before we could even ask the questions, she answered them. She was right up on Inflammatory Breast Cancer. She knew the up to date treatment protocols, and she had the treatment plan already mapped out. Six months of chemo, Mastectomy, and about 8 weeks of radiation. She had a great sense of humor, which won me over immediately. She brought me through the whole building, introduced me to everyone, from the girls at the front desk, to the chemo nurses in the chemo bay. She was up front, but compassionate. But, she did say this, "I'm going to give you as much chemo as I can without killing you." We talked about me smoking, and, although she said she didn't condone it, I needed to try to do what I could to get through the treatment.
On Wednesday, I had a PET Scan, and on Thursday my first chemo. She had told me I would lose my hair within a week. I decided I would just go ahead and shave my head before hand. My husband shaved his head and so did my uncle and father. We have pictures of "The Uncle Festers". My hairdresser cried and cried as she shaved my head. I kept telling her it was alright.
I felt pretty good the first day of chemo. It was Adriamycin--a very, very strong chemo. The doctor had decided on a cocktail with Zofran, steroids, etc. I was given Zofran to take the night before, after the treatment and then three times a day for the weekend. She also loaded me up with Compazine, and another medicine to help with nausea and vomiting if I needed them.
Then Friday, I had my first Neulasta shot. OMG! That was horrible. But, it does as advertised, so it was a "necessary evil". Neulasta basically forces your body to make white blood cells. Your bones actually hurt from it. It's like having the most severe form of the flu! About 2 hours after the shot--I was in bed almost all weekend. On Mondays, I would feel a little better.
So, I had 6 Adriamycin treatments @ 3 weeks apart on Thursdays, with the Neulasta shot every Friday after the treatment. I seemed to tolerate the Adriamycin pretty well. However, the sheet was not shrinking, which was concerning.
The week before my last Adriamycin treatment, my husband and I were driving somewhere and he said something about being glad that this round of treatment is done. I said that it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but I was glad I didn't have to take anymore chemo. He turned and looked at me like I had five heads:). He said, "What do you mean? After this you have to do a whole round of Taxotere." I was shocked. I swear I didn't know that I was going to have more chemo. He couldn't believe I didn't remember that. I laughed though, because the worst side effect is chemo brain (and it IS a real thing).
So, then I started the Taxotere. What a difference! I had every side effect known to man with that. I had Hand and Foot Syndrome--my hands looked and felt like they had been dipped in battery acid. They burned so badly. (My feet did, too, but not as bad as my hands.) I lost all my finger and toe nails. I got Shingles. I threw up. And my body became more and more weak. And I felt heavy. I could barely make it up the stairs to my bedroom. If I squatted down to look at something on a bottom shelf in a store, I couldn't get up. It got to the point I couldn't walk--I had to ride the hideous wheelchair cart around if I went to the store. I threw up more. I was gaining weight (which they told me I would anyway at the beginning). I had earaches, sinus infections, and other kinds of infections. I was having a lot of IV antibiotics, and then having allergic reactions to those. I slowly had to give up doing the simplest things--like emptying the dishwasher. It was hell. But, guess what? The sheet shrunk quite a bit. It was still like 6 x 6 cms., so obviously, it was working.
Then, in October, after my last chemo treatment, I had to be hospitalized because I felt so heavy I couldn't move and I was swollen. I was in for 2 days and could only have 6 oz of fluid every 8 hours. Do you know what kind of torture that was? But, I lost 30 pounds in 2 days. Unbelievable.
In November, I had my right breast removed. And at the end of December I started Radiation. I'm not going to get into those two experiences until later. I finished all of that treatment on February 14, 2010.
After that, the tissue was archetyped against all cancer drugs available. One drug, Xeloda, killed 100% of the cancer cells. I took that for two years.
So, here I am today, 3 1/2 years from diagnosis.
In my next post, I will talk about Allyson's Vital Plan and how I got interested in it.
Long story short--we were devastated. My husband was calling people upstairs and I could hear him crying. He was researching, too. I'm usually the researcher, but I just couldn't do it. We told my daughters and my father and uncle (who both live with us). It was surreal-that's all I can say.
The rest of the week was insane! Biopsies the next day, answer the day after that that it was definitely cancer. But, it would take a week to know exactly what kind. We went to RI and had a bittersweet visit. I felt like this was the last time I was going to see everyone, and they felt the same. It was really hard. That Wednesday, the doctor called as promised, with the results. Inflammatory Breast Cancer, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Not good.
The following Monday, I met with my "second opinion" Oncologist. I had a list of questions to ask her that was three pages long. I had gotten these specific questions from my online support group. My husband, Alan, found it the first day I was diagnosed.
I really liked the doctor and, before we could even ask the questions, she answered them. She was right up on Inflammatory Breast Cancer. She knew the up to date treatment protocols, and she had the treatment plan already mapped out. Six months of chemo, Mastectomy, and about 8 weeks of radiation. She had a great sense of humor, which won me over immediately. She brought me through the whole building, introduced me to everyone, from the girls at the front desk, to the chemo nurses in the chemo bay. She was up front, but compassionate. But, she did say this, "I'm going to give you as much chemo as I can without killing you." We talked about me smoking, and, although she said she didn't condone it, I needed to try to do what I could to get through the treatment.
On Wednesday, I had a PET Scan, and on Thursday my first chemo. She had told me I would lose my hair within a week. I decided I would just go ahead and shave my head before hand. My husband shaved his head and so did my uncle and father. We have pictures of "The Uncle Festers". My hairdresser cried and cried as she shaved my head. I kept telling her it was alright.
I felt pretty good the first day of chemo. It was Adriamycin--a very, very strong chemo. The doctor had decided on a cocktail with Zofran, steroids, etc. I was given Zofran to take the night before, after the treatment and then three times a day for the weekend. She also loaded me up with Compazine, and another medicine to help with nausea and vomiting if I needed them.
Then Friday, I had my first Neulasta shot. OMG! That was horrible. But, it does as advertised, so it was a "necessary evil". Neulasta basically forces your body to make white blood cells. Your bones actually hurt from it. It's like having the most severe form of the flu! About 2 hours after the shot--I was in bed almost all weekend. On Mondays, I would feel a little better.
So, I had 6 Adriamycin treatments @ 3 weeks apart on Thursdays, with the Neulasta shot every Friday after the treatment. I seemed to tolerate the Adriamycin pretty well. However, the sheet was not shrinking, which was concerning.
The week before my last Adriamycin treatment, my husband and I were driving somewhere and he said something about being glad that this round of treatment is done. I said that it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but I was glad I didn't have to take anymore chemo. He turned and looked at me like I had five heads:). He said, "What do you mean? After this you have to do a whole round of Taxotere." I was shocked. I swear I didn't know that I was going to have more chemo. He couldn't believe I didn't remember that. I laughed though, because the worst side effect is chemo brain (and it IS a real thing).
So, then I started the Taxotere. What a difference! I had every side effect known to man with that. I had Hand and Foot Syndrome--my hands looked and felt like they had been dipped in battery acid. They burned so badly. (My feet did, too, but not as bad as my hands.) I lost all my finger and toe nails. I got Shingles. I threw up. And my body became more and more weak. And I felt heavy. I could barely make it up the stairs to my bedroom. If I squatted down to look at something on a bottom shelf in a store, I couldn't get up. It got to the point I couldn't walk--I had to ride the hideous wheelchair cart around if I went to the store. I threw up more. I was gaining weight (which they told me I would anyway at the beginning). I had earaches, sinus infections, and other kinds of infections. I was having a lot of IV antibiotics, and then having allergic reactions to those. I slowly had to give up doing the simplest things--like emptying the dishwasher. It was hell. But, guess what? The sheet shrunk quite a bit. It was still like 6 x 6 cms., so obviously, it was working.
Then, in October, after my last chemo treatment, I had to be hospitalized because I felt so heavy I couldn't move and I was swollen. I was in for 2 days and could only have 6 oz of fluid every 8 hours. Do you know what kind of torture that was? But, I lost 30 pounds in 2 days. Unbelievable.
In November, I had my right breast removed. And at the end of December I started Radiation. I'm not going to get into those two experiences until later. I finished all of that treatment on February 14, 2010.
After that, the tissue was archetyped against all cancer drugs available. One drug, Xeloda, killed 100% of the cancer cells. I took that for two years.
So, here I am today, 3 1/2 years from diagnosis.
In my next post, I will talk about Allyson's Vital Plan and how I got interested in it.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Introduction
Hi there, everyone. Please bear with me as I've never done this before:) I'm sure it will get better with time.
So, several months ago, I was having Occupational Therapy for Lymphedema, when my therapist, David Wilson, gave me a book to read while the massaging machine was doing its thing. He said the book was written by a doctor that his wife, Courtney Wilson studied under, while becoming a Licensed Nurse Practitioner. David had told me it involved alternative methods of medicine. I decided I would read it with an open mind and what I discovered was that I was hooked, interested, and motivated. The book is called "The Vital Plan" by Dr. William C. Rawls, Jr.
Now, I'm not going to quote the whole book. You can buy it on these websites: https://vitalplan.com/vital-concepts or https://vitalplan.com/product/vital-plan-book. Dr. Rawls' philosophy is "Do No Harm" and "treat the cause". The first philosophy of "Do No Harm" reflects that the LEAST intrusive method of treatment should be implemented first! The second is that the medical field has, typically, treated the symptoms of the "problem", without finding out what is causing it.
When I was given the book to browse through, I was and am at a point in my life to be inspired to take the journey of my path to wellness. I must warn you, though, my sense of humor is kind of "sick", a lot sarcastic, and sometimes off-color. You've been warned.
So let me start from the beginning. On April 27, 2009, my life, and my family's lives, would change forever. I was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer, not by one, but by three doctors in the same day. I am so grateful they had the knowledge about it. If you don't know what Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) is, let me tell you. It is opposite everything you've been taught about Breast Cancer. First, there are physical symptoms. Mine were a purplish rash (looked like a possible bug bite), swollen, hot breast, inverted nipple, a "dimple" where the skin was pulling, and pain. I also had a pretty large lump. Having had a long history of fibrocystic breast issues, it was something I wasn't worried about. I would have painful cysts in my breasts that were related to hormonal changes before I had a hysterectomy in 1998, and more recently due to my caffeine intake (which is quite high). This was just something that popped up suddenly. I gave it a week or two, figuring it would just diminish on its own. On Friday night, my then 26 year old daughter, came into the bathroom as I was changing (to go to Relay for Life for the first time--my mother had died 6 months earlier of lung cancer). She said, "Mom, what the hell is wrong with your boob?" I said it was just one of those cysts. She asked me when I was going to the doctor. I told her I would call Monday, which I did.
Now I have a wonderful and funny relationship with my OB/GYN. We tease and we're kind of sick with each other. I called Monday morning and got right in. I got ready, laid on the table and waited for him to come in. Of course, when he opened the door, he was saying something "smart" to one of the nurses about getting some kind of lube that my husband would enjoy. But, what was always a comforting, smiling reaction I was used to, changed immediately. He walked over, took one look at my breast, grabbed my hand and pulled me up to a sitting position. He said, "Get dressed and come into my office. You need to see a surgeon right away to make sure this isn't cancer."
I was always petrified-no matter what doctor I went to-that I was going to have cancer. But, apparently not quite as petrified as I should have been. I smoke, you see.
I went into his office. He called across the street and got me into a surgeon in an hour. It was weird. I was not at all afraid of having cancer. I thought that the surgeon would aspirate the cyst and I would be on my way. I called my husband and told him what was going on. He was very hesitant and said he was coming. I don't know what I was thinking, but I told him that he didn't have to because I was sure it was just a cyst. Well, he came, thank goodness. The surgeon took one look at me--didn't touch it or anything. He said, "This is what I think it is. I think it is Inflammatory Breast Cancer. It is a VERY aggressive cancer and has probably already metastasized. It's probably already Stage III or IV. You have a 25% chance of survival."
What? He then proceeded to tell us that I needed to go to the radiologist (right away) and that I would need a biopsy (he could do it tomorrow). I said that we were going to RI for vacation on Friday. It was Monday. My husband interjected and said that we weren't going now. The doctor said that it was important that we do go and that the results would take a week. Okay. I was still really in denial. We went to the radiologist. I had a mammogram. Nothing showed. See? I knew it was just a cyst. Then, the doctor did an ultrasound. He explained, as he was running the thingy over my very sore breast, that IBC doesn't usually show on mammograms and it isn't in lumps, it forms in sheets. Mine was 13 x 17 CENTIMETERS! He said, "This is what I think it is. I think it is Inflammatory Breast Cancer. You have a 25% chance of survival. It is probably Stage III or IV. I'll call (the surgeon) and set up a biopsy for tomorrow.
This is when I lost it. I said that I just lost my mother, I wasn't in any condition to deal with this and I broke down. My husband rubbed my leg, but looked like a deer in headlights.
And that's where I'm going to leave you, just for now. You've hopped on to my journey as it begins. My Vital Plan wasn't even a twinkle in my eye yet, but it was in the making. Hang on. We're going to do this together.
Until next time...
So, several months ago, I was having Occupational Therapy for Lymphedema, when my therapist, David Wilson, gave me a book to read while the massaging machine was doing its thing. He said the book was written by a doctor that his wife, Courtney Wilson studied under, while becoming a Licensed Nurse Practitioner. David had told me it involved alternative methods of medicine. I decided I would read it with an open mind and what I discovered was that I was hooked, interested, and motivated. The book is called "The Vital Plan" by Dr. William C. Rawls, Jr.
Now, I'm not going to quote the whole book. You can buy it on these websites: https://vitalplan.com/vital-concepts or https://vitalplan.com/product/vital-plan-book
When I was given the book to browse through, I was and am at a point in my life to be inspired to take the journey of my path to wellness. I must warn you, though, my sense of humor is kind of "sick", a lot sarcastic, and sometimes off-color. You've been warned.
So let me start from the beginning. On April 27, 2009, my life, and my family's lives, would change forever. I was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer, not by one, but by three doctors in the same day. I am so grateful they had the knowledge about it. If you don't know what Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) is, let me tell you. It is opposite everything you've been taught about Breast Cancer. First, there are physical symptoms. Mine were a purplish rash (looked like a possible bug bite), swollen, hot breast, inverted nipple, a "dimple" where the skin was pulling, and pain. I also had a pretty large lump. Having had a long history of fibrocystic breast issues, it was something I wasn't worried about. I would have painful cysts in my breasts that were related to hormonal changes before I had a hysterectomy in 1998, and more recently due to my caffeine intake (which is quite high). This was just something that popped up suddenly. I gave it a week or two, figuring it would just diminish on its own. On Friday night, my then 26 year old daughter, came into the bathroom as I was changing (to go to Relay for Life for the first time--my mother had died 6 months earlier of lung cancer). She said, "Mom, what the hell is wrong with your boob?" I said it was just one of those cysts. She asked me when I was going to the doctor. I told her I would call Monday, which I did.
Now I have a wonderful and funny relationship with my OB/GYN. We tease and we're kind of sick with each other. I called Monday morning and got right in. I got ready, laid on the table and waited for him to come in. Of course, when he opened the door, he was saying something "smart" to one of the nurses about getting some kind of lube that my husband would enjoy. But, what was always a comforting, smiling reaction I was used to, changed immediately. He walked over, took one look at my breast, grabbed my hand and pulled me up to a sitting position. He said, "Get dressed and come into my office. You need to see a surgeon right away to make sure this isn't cancer."
I was always petrified-no matter what doctor I went to-that I was going to have cancer. But, apparently not quite as petrified as I should have been. I smoke, you see.
I went into his office. He called across the street and got me into a surgeon in an hour. It was weird. I was not at all afraid of having cancer. I thought that the surgeon would aspirate the cyst and I would be on my way. I called my husband and told him what was going on. He was very hesitant and said he was coming. I don't know what I was thinking, but I told him that he didn't have to because I was sure it was just a cyst. Well, he came, thank goodness. The surgeon took one look at me--didn't touch it or anything. He said, "This is what I think it is. I think it is Inflammatory Breast Cancer. It is a VERY aggressive cancer and has probably already metastasized. It's probably already Stage III or IV. You have a 25% chance of survival."
What? He then proceeded to tell us that I needed to go to the radiologist (right away) and that I would need a biopsy (he could do it tomorrow). I said that we were going to RI for vacation on Friday. It was Monday. My husband interjected and said that we weren't going now. The doctor said that it was important that we do go and that the results would take a week. Okay. I was still really in denial. We went to the radiologist. I had a mammogram. Nothing showed. See? I knew it was just a cyst. Then, the doctor did an ultrasound. He explained, as he was running the thingy over my very sore breast, that IBC doesn't usually show on mammograms and it isn't in lumps, it forms in sheets. Mine was 13 x 17 CENTIMETERS! He said, "This is what I think it is. I think it is Inflammatory Breast Cancer. You have a 25% chance of survival. It is probably Stage III or IV. I'll call (the surgeon) and set up a biopsy for tomorrow.
This is when I lost it. I said that I just lost my mother, I wasn't in any condition to deal with this and I broke down. My husband rubbed my leg, but looked like a deer in headlights.
And that's where I'm going to leave you, just for now. You've hopped on to my journey as it begins. My Vital Plan wasn't even a twinkle in my eye yet, but it was in the making. Hang on. We're going to do this together.
Until next time...
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