I maj måned fik Holly konstateret brystkræft, og fik fjernet nogle lymfekirtler samt det ene bryst. Da hun begyndte på den efterfølgende kemobehandling, blev det også begyndelsen på hendes vej mod at blive helt kræftfri. En vej, hun også besluttede sig for at gå, helt bogstaveligt. Holly vandrer nemlig Hærvejen imellem kemobehandlingerne, og har døbt sin tur “No Hair”-vejen. I dag er hun cirka 7 måneder inde i forløbet, har været igennem 7 behandlinger og har gået 200 km af vandreruten. I det følgende kan du læse om Hollys rejse mod at blive kræftfri.
No Hairvejen, part III
Tekst og billeder: Holly Chabowski
It is now mid October, and my eyebrows are shedding alongside the autumn leaves.
Since my diagnosis of breast cancer in May I have had two operations, sat through 7 rounds of chemotherapy and walked 200km of No Hairvejen, from Padborg to Viborg.
I have experienced white hot fear and felt anger surge and rip its way through me. However, the narrative in this blog post is one of immense gratitude. Cancer chose me but I write the narrative. I tell my story. I can choose fear, or I can choose gratitude.
To say that it has been a challenging month is an understatement.
Round 6 of chemotherapy was frightening. I had a mild allergic reaction to the medicine, feeling hot in my face and a tightening in my chest and throat. The medical team had the situation under control immediately and were quick to assure me that I was not in any danger. However, the fear and panic had already kicked in. My friend Stine walked into the room, with two sandwiches from the hospital shop, to witness me surrounded by five nurses and a doctor, physically shaking with adrenaline. It took a while to calm me down before we could begin the treatment again.
A few days later my eyebrows began to fall out, my teeth became sensitive, my lovely pink healthy nails turned a shade of brown, and there are strange sensations happening in my fingers and toes. As October rolled around, I had had enough. I wanted to quit the treatment. The black dog came to visit me, and I felt depressed, lost in sea of negative thoughts and worry. The clouds thickening when I considered the possible long term side effects of what we are doing to my body. Anger towards the absurdity of the situation and the loss of control. Anger was a way to harness some control.
8th October I wrote this in my journal –
“Be kind to yourself. It is ok to feel sad. It is ok to feel angry. It is all ok.
Tell people that you are struggling and ask for help. You are not alone in this. It is ok to ask for help, people will say no if they cannot help. That is their responsibility, not yours.’’
In this post I will try to express how blessed, humbled and honoured I am to have my tribe. To have my friends and loved ones witness me in a vulnerable state, there is beauty in that. Reminding me that I am still me. With or without eyebrows or hair, I am still me and I am loved.
Yesterday my friend Stine and I walked 30km of No Hairvejen from Thorning to Viborg. It was awesome. Honestly one of the best days of my life. How can I be in the middle of one of the most frightening periods of my life and experience such a fun and happy day? The nature around Dollerup Bakke is stunning in the autumn sunshine. We ate our lunch by the river, happy, tired and glowing from the fresh air and exercise. We did what we do best, just existing together. Stine has been by my side holding my hand from the moment the doctor first uttered the word cancer. By my side in the operating theatre (listening to me flirt with the anaesthetist until my eyes rolled back), driving through Truust together on the way to Viborg Hospital on numerous occasions – my Sister and absolute rock.
In fact, despite the dark days, this whole summer has been jam-packed with love, friendship, fun, laughter, beauty and connection. Packed with life in all it’s glory. It has been a summer of JOMO – the joy of missing out. I have not been to the festivals and parties that I had planned to before the cancer bomb dropped, but there has been joy accepting and embracing what is.
My beautiful friend, brother and fellow 9-year-old spirit Lars has walked with me for hours on the phone, waffling and sorting through the thoughts in my head. Swing King, I love you and cannot wait to dance with you soon.
Alma’s angelic voice has accompanied me through many kilometres singing along with her kirtans. The music is healing, and I can feel my cells vibrating with loving energy.
I have gotten to know new friends, Mathias and Anne–Sofie who walked with me from Vejen to Bindeballe. We talked about EVERYTHING.
Kay, a huge source of emotional and practical and emotional support, joined me from Bindeballe to Jelling. We walked way further than we should have that day and had a hairy moment on the way home trying to make it to a petrol station before the car died (switching off all the things, stay cool, stay cool). That’s what happens when two optimists go for a hike! I love how you love me.
At Vrads I stumbled over an ashram (who here amongst us can truthfully say they have never stumbled over an ashram). Here I met Morten who meditated with me, kindly invited me for dinner and drove me home. The timing of these events was perfect as my monkey mind had been playing the banjo all day long. You opened my heart when it was closed.
Teresa joined me from Vrads to Funder Kirkeby. Teresa is a fellow breast cancer survivor and gives me hope for an incredibly bright recovery and future.
My daughter Greta joined me for 500m from Funder Kirkeby towards Thorning. Motivating a 5-year-old to hike is not easy, so we raced and chased each other back and forth instead. Greta, you choose love everyday, because you are love. You inspire me and I hope that, when you are old enough to read and understand, that this summer of mine will inspire you too. My darling, I love you beyond measure.
Less than 24 hours after round 7 of chemo, I participated in my school Motion’s Day 5km run (I didn’t win this year!). I was greeted warmly by the entire school – hugs, high fives, a parent even made me vegan gyoza (!) – and made to know to that everybody looks forward to having me back. The day was exhausting for my physical body but vital for my mental health. Franziska, thank you so much for getting me through this round of chemo, baking bread and joining me for the run. You are amazing.
My work tribe, and sporty friends Ditte, Jon, Tobias and Gene have been brilliant. Jon composed and recorded me a song based on the story ‘The Feather Queen’ written for me by Thomas. Jon, I listen to your song on repeat whilst walking, thank you. Gene – I am so much enjoying getting to know you beyond the staffroom, thank you for all the cards from students. I feel how much you care for me. Ditte and Toby I am so grateful to have colleagues and friends like you.
My team of gentlemen, my brothers – Søren, Erik, Troels, Lars-Bo, Christian, Milan and Thomas – have gotten me through some physically tough days with love, patience, dignity and delicious food. Fixing things in my house that I did not know needed fixing.
Laura, you answered my call for help, and showed up at my house to do all the things when I couldn’t do all the things.
Gulshanoy, you are a mentor in this process. Thank you for answering all my questions.
Catherine, my breast cancer sister and neighbour – we are in this together! I can’t wait to rock a side shave with you in a few months.
Janet, you set your alarm every Thursday morning to stop what you are doing and send me healing energy. I feel it all. What is in the way, is the way! You taught me this and it is the most important sentence I ever heard.
The list goes on and on, my neighbours cutting the grass, showing up with food, Finn my fellow cancer survivor, swim coach and pep talk buddy, Signe and Helle, Trine and Signe my spiritual power sisters, Gitta for the weirdest Feeld date at chemo school, Eva making me art, Nanna and Niels, the tribe at Himmelbjergård, magical Matilde … I am sorry to the people that I have not named. I love you all.
During the past 200km I have had a lot of time to reflect. What have I lost, what have I gained and what have I learnt?
I have temporarily lost my hair and permanently lost 6 lymph nodes and my right breast.
I am gaining new understandings of myself, who I am and what is important to me. I am fostering new friendships and deepening old friendships.
I am learning that when I start counting my blessings the love gets bigger, and the fear gets smaller. You turn on the light and the darkness is gone.
I have learnt that if it is not a health problem, it is not a problem.
I am thoroughly enjoying putting some Jutland under my feet. It is a long journey and there is still a way to go. Five more rounds of chemotherapy to accept and 300km to walk until I reach Skagen. The farmland and summer fruits of Southern Jutland are behind me and the forests, lakes and autumn colours of Middle Jutland are a welcome sight. The weather has been spectacular – cold, crisp and bright. The healthy glow in my cheeks makes up for the wispy feathers on my head.
There is still fear. Big, big tears almost everyday. Health anxiety is a new normal and it would be dishonest to say otherwise. I cannot control cancer, but I can control the narrative. This evening, I wrote this in my journal –
‘”Presence. Awareness. Grace. Faith. Gratitude. It’s party time soon enough. Hold on Holly. You’ve got this.”
If you are reading this and going through cancer treatment, or supporting someone who is, keep doing the things that are good for your body. It is tough, it really is. This is the toughest thing I have ever done. Be curious about the fear, but do not feed it. There is a peaceful place you can go to in your heart. Gratitude is a path to that place. Think about somebody that you love, feel it in your heart and keep expanding that love. Soften and open your heart to the process – let your light shine.
