The nutritionist says...

Yesterday was my visit to the cancer wellness center to meet with the nutritionist. Last week, when I visited Dr. Feinstein, he suggested I meet with a nutritionist. I'm thankful the wellness center offers that service free of charge to breast cancer survivors.

I had no idea what to expect when I walked into her office. A very petite 30 something woman sat before me. She greeted me cordially and we began to talk a little about my experience with cancer. She listened intently as I described my stage, treatment, and current situation. Now it was time to get down to the nitty gritty...

"Why are you here, exactly?," she said. "Well, my oncologist thought it would be a good idea since I'm taking a natural approach to staying healthy instead of taking Tamoxifen, Arimidex or any of those other anti-hormone therapies." "Okay, so let's talk about your diet," she said. So I proceeded to give her a break down of what I usually eat for each meal. She looked shocked when I finished. "Wow, you eat really well! You are doing exactly what you should be doing." I wanted to jump up and down and say, "I KNOW! I KNOW!" but I restrained myself.

She began printing off documents from her computer and turned to me saying, "so, what would you say your goal is right now?" The first thing that came to mind was to say, "just to stay alive" so that's what I said. "That's a good goal!," she said. I also told her I'd like to lose some weight. I explained how frustrated I was at having a super slow metabolism. Ellen, the nutritionist, looked confused. "How do you know you have a slow metabolism?" I told her that no matter what I did or didn't eat, I could never lose a pound. Even when I added lots of exercise, nothing helped. When I told her about having had my thyroid gland removed in 2005, she was able to understand a little better and agreed with me.

"Why don't we just focus on making healthy eating choices and not focus on losing weight?," she said, "if you continue to eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables like you've been doing and increase your activity, I'm pretty sure the weight loss will follow."

Ellen

Ellen handed me a stack of printouts. There was one was on Organic foods and cancer, another was on plant based diets and phytochemicals, and the last one was a 1600 calorie menu planner with many pages of diet information. I told Ellen that I don't think I ever ate 1600 calories in a day. My diet was usually around 1200. She explained that she'd based that calorie count on several factors including my BMR (basal metabolic rate.)

I sat there looking over the papers and happened to glance down at her shoes. (She had on some really cool shoes!) I wanted to say something about them but thought it might seem a little weird, but then...I couldn't help it! "Those are the coolest shoes!," I said. She glanced down at her feet and then a big smile came across her face. "Thank you! You just made my day!" I asked where she'd purchased them and she told me. I love quirky, different looking shoes. Hers were an olive drab colored canvas similar to the Converse high tops I wore in high school but these had a unique fold down tongue and side flaps. As we were talking about the shoes, a guy came walking into her office and looked directly at me said, "it's time for your drum lesson." Ummmm....you can't imagine the shocked look on my face. I thought he was kidding but it turns out he wasn't!

Ellen and I were finished and as I told her thank you, the guy was grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me gently down the hallway. I looked back at Ellen with a "help me???" look on my face. She just smiled and sat down to do some paperwork.

Rounding the corner, the guy took me into a room filled with leather chairs and sofas. He motioned for me to have a seat and being the compliant person that I am, I sat down. He handed me a drum...but not your typical drum, it was an African drum. He took one and placed it between his thighs and asked me to do the same...which I did. Can I tell you, I was feeling really weird and really uncomfortable but then, he began to show me the various drum strokes to play the Djembe (the African drum made of wood shaped like a huge challis with a head made of goatskin stretched over the top of it.) I watched in amazement as he began to stroke the drum. The sounds resonated throughout the room and began to get louder as he continued playing. "Now you try it," he said.

I took my drum and followed along as he taught me the 3 types of strokes used to play this instrument. The first stroke was a bass stroke where the whole hand was used to hit the surface of the drum firmly. The second stroke involved only the meaty part of your hand, just below your fingers, and this stroke was made squarely along the outer rim of the drum. This stroke was called the tone stroke. The last stroke involved the meaty part of the palm and the fingers, again along the outer edge of the drum and it was called the slap stroke. As I practiced each stroke, I was beginning to loosen up and have fun!

The instructor told me to close my eyes and practice the strokes while saying "pepperoni and spaghetti." He said the words gave the proper cadence to the strokes he was teaching me. I felt silly sitting there in a room alone with a man I'd never met before with a big wooden African drum between my legs, eyes closed saying "pepperoni and spaghetti...PEP per oni and SPA ghetti, PEP per ONI and spa GHETTI"  As he changed up the emphasis on the words, he changed the type of stroke we played on the drum.

We sat there playing our drums for about an hour. As the beat became more natural, I was transported into a dusty, poverty stricken land surrounded by tattered children. I could just imagine all of us sitting there underneath the Baobab trees gathered into a loose circle as the elders led us in some sort of ceremony with drums beating and shirtless women dancing. It was the weirdest thing ever, just like I had stepped into a National Geographic documentary on African music.

The rhythmic drumming was hypnotizing, but not in a bad way. It was very peaceful and as I kept drumming, the instructor began to tell me a little of the drum therapy program here at the wellness center. He explained that the drumming was a wonderful stress reliever and something about Oncolytic Immunotherapies and T cell production. I didn't really listen because I was "into" my drumming. I felt connected with the native peoples through their music.

When it was time for the class to be over, I didn't want to leave. Isn't that funny? At first, I had felt totally out of place and strange about even picking up the drum and holding it. The pepperoni and spaghetti part made me want to burst out laughing but now, it all came together. 

The cancer wellness center at Piedmont Hospital is a wonderful resource. They offer free programs to help cancer survivors thrive. There are cooking classes, art therapy classes, writing classes, drumming, massage, yoga, group therapy, and other programs offered weekly. Each of these programs help those of us who continue to struggle to find our place in the world feel a little more grounded. The programs are set to reach a wide range of women and some of them participate in every class offered. I like to choose ones that include things I enjoy already like the art and writing classes. 

It's nice to know the doctors aren't only concerned with helping us through the immediate crisis of cancer but also want to help us be successful in returning to our daily lives. It's a huge struggle for many of us who have experienced devastating physical changes. The cancer wellness center is a wonderful place for overcoming the emotional pain that cancer inflicts upon its victims. 

Nutrition plan, check. African drumming, check. What's next you say? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. I do know that I'm not just going to sit around on my duff and rot. I've got a whole lot of living left to do! 

 “The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.” ~ T.H. White

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