Ribbons we all know about, but did you know that butterflies are also a common symbol for cancer patients?
There is a different color ribbon for almost each kind of cancer. Teal is for ovarian and cervical cancers. Pink is for breast cancer and they get the most press! I just saw a table devoted to breast cancer awareness at Trader Joe’s today… I tipped my teal ribbon decorated cap at the person at the table.
Cancer is tough and one of the ways that I’ve found to help get through it is journaling. Now, I actually journal mostly on my iPad because it’s usually handy and has a keyboard connected, but I used to journal exclusively on paper and I still love holding a book and a pen in my hands and marking those pages with colorful ink. So, to help others journal, I’ve put out three cancer journals on amazon (and when I get my copies, they’ll also be on my kohlermusicpress.com site).
This terrible disease has a history of not being recognized until it’s very late and so I feel like it’s important to share with you a list of common symptoms.
Symptoms list (this list is nowhere near complete and some people don’t experience any symptoms at all):
Pain in ovary area.Dull ache in reproductive area
Lower back pain
More intense cramps during period/More intense bleeding
Tiredness
Indigestion
Nausea
Pain during Intercourse
Bloating – not uncommon for this cancer to quickly cause water retention in the stomach area. Looking pregnant from the water retention is a repeating story
Trouble breathing deeply/shortness of breath
Coughing from the pressure on diaphragm
Acid reflux or unusual heart burn
Feeling full very quickly
Painful bowel movements. Constipation or alternately, sometimes diarrhea
Left shoulder pain
No symptoms at all…
Personally, I had constipation (painful bowel movements) and acid reflux slowly increasing over the year or so before my diagnosis. I attributed this to going through menopause, but in December of 2022, I started to have pain during intercourse as well as ongoing lower abdominal discomfort. I thought I had a UTI. So, I went in and peed in a cup. No UTI meant that I went in again and the doctor ordered a CT scan and we found a suspicious mass on and around my left ovary.
After my diagnosis in January, I continued to get more symptoms until I started chemo. The symptoms I just described continued, but add: feeling full very quickly, the water retention and coughing from the pressure on my diaphragm (resulting in paracentesis), and nausea. My voice wasn’t quite right and I couldn’t sing very well… And if you know me, I like to sing very well!
To say most of my symptoms could’ve been chalked up to menopause and or getting older and having more digestive issues is true and I would’ve probably ignored it, or just tried to eat better if it hadn’t be for the painful sex and UTI that wasn’t…
Ovarian cancer makes up about 3% of all cancers among women and it is rare among women under 40. Ovarian cancer most frequently develops in women 55 to 64 years old and in women who began menstruating before age 12 or reached menopause after age 50. Higher risk also is associated with:
Taking estrogen without progesterone for 10 or more years
So, pay attention to your bodies, ladies and other ovary havers. If something doesn’t feel right, take notice. And if your doctor doesn’t take you seriously, press until you get some answers. Ovarian cancer is rare, so hopefully not many of you will be in my shoes in the future, but still you need to be your own advocate when it comes to your own health. Please, push your doctors. Get answers. Don’t just back off and say your health is probably just menopause, when you know something is really wrong.
Caring And Comfort (Savvy Wigs) sent me my wig in May after a little delay. One of the main wig makers just had a little delay, I mean, a baby! I’m excited for her and still waiting for those pictures… I’m so grateful to Caring and Comfort, Christian and my Mom for helping me obtain this wig. It’s made from my hair and made to look exactly like I used to look…
I do feel ambivalent about wearing it. I love it AND it makes me cry.
It’s all very interesting to have it arrive when the hair on my head was starting to grow back in earnest. Of course, now, it’s falling out again from this second batch of chemo rounds. When I got diagnosed and cut off all my hair, I felt empowered and I didn’t really mourn much about the loss of my hair for that first part of chemotherapy. Cutting it off was a way I could take control of this out-of-control situation. But now, having my wig, and having my hair fall out a second time… I am mourning, more than I expected.
Here’s my journal entry from the day I received my wig (edited for language):
I got my wig. My hair. My hair all tied up in knots on lace that fits over my bald head. It’s emotionally very strange to suddenly have my hair back, but it’s not actually attached to my head. It does look uncannily like me. Or at least how I used to look. I’m not sure I look like that anymore. Which is maybe why it’s emotional. Why my hair got to be this symbol of something bigger, some letting go. Some mourning of a past self that will never exist again, cancer free and ignorant of the possibility of cancer. I am forever changed. It seems like a cliche, but it’s also a truth. I will never be the same again, cancer changed me. Physically, some of which I will recover from and the visible scars will be few. Emotionally, most of which will follow me until I’m gone. I want to travel and see my family more, I want to do the things I’ve dreamed of and never acted on. I want to do more of the same things I’m doing anyway, because I do love music, writing music, teaching music, performing music. My hair. My identity. My look. My sexuality. My quirk. My recognizable trait. My hair.
Picture of Kate looking uncannily like her old pre-cancer self with long wavy hair. Yes, this is my wig!
