 This is Stink Tech, Hawaii. Community matters here. You don't have the title. Okay. And we are. Aloha. I'm Marcia Joyner, and we are navigating the journey. And today is a little bit different. I want to tell you a story. It's called, I'm being a raccoon. It's the day when looking good made all the difference. You have the big C, Dr. Aquino said. Let me get my appointment book. He turned and walked out the room and leaving me utterly alone. My heart sank. The big C could have not said more. Could have touched my hand. The big C, damn! I thought as I pulled from the tiny gurney, two steps to the huge glass window, the only light in this tiny hospital room. The sun rose slowly from behind Diamond Head, turning the mountains from black to green, stretching its warm rays across the ocean. Honolulu in September 1982 was dressed for autumn. Located in Waikiki adjacent to the Alawai Boat Harbor, Kaiser Permanente Hospital, patients woke up to the beautiful tropical sunrise and drifted off to dramatic sunset. Only today I could see in the glass was me. My first thought was to cry. The big C ran through my mind. Was this really me? Am I standing here? I have to go to work. For more than 27 years, my husband and I had two beauty salons in the heart of Waikiki. One in the Reef Tower and one in the Edgewater Hotel. That was a time when snowbirds came to Waikiki for the season. The Canadians and the Europeans in the winter and the Aussies in the summer. Waikiki was magic. One could hear the rolling surf, beckoning summons join me. Along the shores of the gentle trade winds kissed the lacy bamboo farms. Aroma of fresh cut plumeria from lay stands on every corner filled air. A stroll in the evening afforded a bevy of entertainment at each hotel's showrooms. Flashing back the tears. Racing my mind. Yes, I had to go to work. I cannot cry. No tears. I sucked in my gut, leaned into the window and there before me was a carefully made up woman. Completely was black mascara and big eyelashes. No tears. No. If I cry, the mascara will run. The eyelashes will loose and I will look like a raccoon. With smudge black circles under my eyes, tears streaking down the blush and the brown paper bag color complexion peeping out from under the carefully applied and suntan foundation. No, I cannot cry. After all, we sell looking good. Whatever color nail polish I wear, we sell a lot of. When I change my hair color, we sell. We sell. That's the beauty business. We sell. I cannot cry. Raccoons don't sell. Raccoons are not allowed. When Dr. Aquino returned to the tiny hospital room, I asked if we could wait until my husband returned from the mainland. He agreed it was a good idea. So he made the schedule for the big C surgery and began what was to be a long term relationship. The years faded into each other. I don't remember how many or the number of cancers and surgeries. I did not cry. No reckons. It was clear. I could not have afforded to have an affair. I looked like a loser in the hatchet fight. I did not cry. The years went by and snip, snip, chop, chop, cut, cut, did my breast. Four years later, the medical staff surmised that because I was young, I should have breast implants. Okay, why not? Will they make me look sexy? They pulled out the funny looking gel things that were to be substituted for mother nature. I would even get to choose a size. Having never had sexy breasts, this was to be a new adventure, another surgery. Days, weeks, and months went by with these things. I must admit, I looked great and I did not like them. I could not sleep on those hard things, sticking straight up in the middle of my chest. Then one morning before dawn, I was in the shower and I felt something strange under my make-believe breast. I woke Kenneth up and asked him, what did he see? His eyes opened wide. He turned pale, shade of gray. My body was expelling these implants. Since it was Labor Day weekend, neither my doctor nor any other surgeon was available. Even the hospital was gone. Everyone on the other emergency staff wanted to look, but no one wanted to touch. Finally, a male nurse fresh from Vietnam said, he knew what to do. He wrapped me from head to toe in ace bandages holding the implants in place until the doctor returned. Labor Day weekend, everyone is at the beach and I'm wrapped like an antique mummy. It was more than Kenneth's stomach and at no time did I see him cry. And I believe he did. Finally, the day came to remove the implants. After the surgery, I was in recovery room, dazed out of my mind. I tried to sit up only to see Elvis in the next bed, falling back deep into the pillow. I knew I had died and gone to Graceland. Enough, I asked the nurse if I could see my husband. She allowed as no one but medical staff could come into the recovery room. Feeling as if she was doing the right thing, he summons the doctor. He gently whispered my name and put out his hand. I felt his arm immediately I knew not Kenneth. The floodgates opened. I cried and I cried and I cried. The poor doctor was terrified. He did not know what he had done to me. How could I tell him? After years of not crying, not being a raccoon, I began to cry and cry and cry some more. The nurse gave me a box of tissue, flipped the drug into my mouth and the tears stopped. Now, 30 plus years later, the cancer detection is much better. In the early days I asked to have my husband sign a consent for me to have a breast biopsy. Can you imagine? What if I didn't have a husband, I asked. Dr. Aquino was completely taken aback having met Kenneth. If he had had a test secular biopsy, would I have had to sign for him? No. However, over the years, we've become great friends. A mammogram, the x-ray pictures on the breast, have gently improved. And no, the surgeries have not ended. My body just keeps producing tumors. I've learned how to detect the signs at the earliest stages. And no, there's not much point to crying. No raccoons, no. Raccoons are not allowed. For those of you that don't know, Kaiser Permanente is no longer on the beach at Waikiki. It's somewhere up and way up. Where is it on the highway? And it's... Doctor... The Henry Kaiser in 1958 built this... I think it was a small hotel, a hospital in Waikiki. And he hired a group of doctors in Water Mall in to take care of things. In 1986, the old hospital was blown up and it was even shown on television, on Magnum PI, I think it was. As they blew up the hotel, I mean, the hospital, and in its place now is this lovely Prince Hotel. So the only reason I had this is that Labor Day, the hospital was gone, the doctor was gone, everybody's gone, and I'm left with these things coming out of my body. That's enough. That's enough about me. But today, my guest is the lovely Beatrice. And those of you that are regular viewers, you know Beatrice, hosts her show on Fridays at four o'clock. Beatrice, like me, is a cancer survivor. I don't know how many cancers I look out of my own cancers. So that's what we're going to talk about today with Beatrice is about surviving this onslaught, the reoccurring cancers. Thank you so much for the opportunity and the space to talk openly about cancer and many facets of cancer. There's good, bad, and ugly. And I hope that we'll have a chance to converse about a little bit of each. So yes, I don't have a long journey with cancer as you have shared. But you don't have a long journey on this planet like I do. I just turned 45 years old in August this year. And so earlier this month I was diagnosed again with my fourth recurrence of cancer. So mine is a melanoma that's been the primary cancer. And so over the years and with the recurrences, it is still melanoma, but now it's metastasized. So it's a new journey. And here we are again. I was in remission for seven years. So just enough time to start having selective amnesia. Like you start putting things behind your brain, like that filing cabinet in the brain. You really don't freak out much when you do tests every year and you start to breathe a little bit more easily. But here we are again. That thing in your stomach that says, oh, do we have to do this again? Really? You know, it's very interesting because for me, every recurrence has been different. My first and second one, I remember feeling more like what you described, ah, I don't have time for this. I've got work to do. I have a kid to ride. I've got places to go. You just kind of, you know, dwell into like routine. And maybe for me, I think looking with respect must have been my way to cope with it. You know, because I think as your awareness broadens and you start to dwell in a little bit deeper, the raccoon comes out more and more. I think in a way the brain and the heart have ways to protect us and to only allow us to experience what we may be able to take it. And so the first two times really, the first time actually, my doctor was so confident that, you know, he got it all and that with additional treatment that I would not have to worry much because we caught it at the very early stages of melanoma. But the thing is that melanoma is quite an aggressive cancer and also very hard to treat with conventional treatment such as chemo and radiation. So the second time, I got a little bit more worried but I was still in that state of like, alright, there's no, you know, problems, you know, in metastases in all the parts of the body. So we're going to just keep doing what we did the first time, but stronger. The third time I was really angry. I think the anger had to come out fast and that's when I really felt treated in life, you know, I was 36 and it was quite a different diagnosis and it was more severe. And so that's when you really go, oh shit, oh fuck, everything, you know, to get us all of the delayed stuff that I didn't do the other two times. You know, I did it the third time and it was a long, it was a long journey because it took me almost two years to get treatment and I was very fortunate to be able to partake on a clinical trial in Los Angeles and that really was what gave me a second chance in life and so I'm extremely grateful. So now here we are again and so there's no clinical trial treatments but the medications have changed and things don't look so good and like I keep very optimist look in terms of you never know and I'll go with what I need to do in order to address this recurrence. But yeah, fourth time really makes you go, really? That wasn't one time in North, the body's not designed to go through this, assaults one time even four times and unfortunately, I mean fortunately and unfortunately in the fortunate aspect of having recurrences it means that we have science and medication that helps people beat the beast even if for a certain period of time for a while but then people having more recurrences. So I guess we're dealing with a new breed of cancer survivors like yourself, myself. Here we go again, you know, so... Yeah, why now? I've got so much to do. And why not? The thing I think life has a couple of constants which is change, choices, right? And then you just have to go through with it and don't have much of a choice on cancer but you have choices on how you're going to handle it and the day by day is really what makes the difference. Well, we're going to take a break and when we come back I'm going to talk with Beatrice about exactly that, the choices and how we handle this and what to look forward to. Okay, we'll be right back. This is Think Tech Hawaii, raising public awareness. Hello, I'm Marcia and we are here with the lovely Beatrice who has a show on Think Tech at Friday at four o'clock. And we're talking about surviving cancer, the reoccurring cancer. We're talking about surviving cancer, the reoccurring cancer. So tell me, Beatrice, what do you think? How do you feel? What is surviving? What are the steps to dealing with this if there are such things? You know, I think it is such a customized and personable answer because whatever works for one person may not work for another person and also each recurrence that I had was in a different state in my life and with different coping skills too and different priorities. I think this time around what has been very helpful because it hasn't even been a month for me since I just learned about my recurrence. In my life, I've always scheduled my priorities and now, you know, that is becoming even more so of a need. So reassessing priorities have been a big step. To be quite honest, I think part of doing that life review and really figuring out am I really living an authentic life, you know, things in alignment with my heart and, you know, with regards to work, personal life, you know, time that I spend doing certain things that I feel is important, such as social justice, you know, work and activism work and advocacy. And so that is a check, but I think that the good news for me is that the treatments that I'll be going through are immunotherapy medications. So a slightly different class of treatment than chemo-radiation does to people. So it's not as harsh? It is not as harsh because it does not work to destroy your entire body. I think with chemo-radiation, they just, like, nuke the crap out of you. Yeah, it just burns up the good cells, yeah. And you hope that, you know, something good will emerge out of the dead, you know, stuff, you know, the bad stuff that got cured. The immunotherapy works with your T-cells and works with your immune system to target, to recognize and target the cancer cell and help destroy that, not the rest of your body. But there are side effects, and there's also the part of taking time off. And so for me, I think that the part of really where I am at in my life, I already raised my family and I've been to Wolfs for a while. So it's like, well, I don't have certain pressing issues that I used to have before. So I think it becomes more about where do I find that balance between surviving, you know, because you do have to have a sustaining way of, you know, make a living, but also living life. Enjoying the here and now. Enjoying the here and now, the mundane things. So in a way, I feel like, oh my gosh, I live in the most beautiful place on Earth, you know, which is Hawaii. And, you know, the nature here is so powerful and so majestic that it really helps a lot of people come to terms to, like, where are we at in relation to the universe? Like we're grain of sand, right? And so I want to enjoy more of nature. I want to do things that I always keep postponing because we always have this illusion that we will live a very long time and that we will get to do things that we really want to do when we retire, when we are older. And the truth of the matter is that, well, some of us have that luck. You don't have to have a cancer diagnosis to think about that. But the truth is that all we have is now. So, in many ways, a new recurrence have helped me reassess how am I living life now. And so that's been a gift because I'm finding my deficits. I am focusing way more, you know, at work and things that are important, but at the expense of not taking that time to do the things that I really want to do. And I want to do the work. I want to do the activities that I do because it's a big part of my identity. But there is also another part that needs to be paid attention to. So that's what I'm doing. And I think it's very interesting what do you do. I've got all kinds of advices over the years, don't cry, cry, diet stuff. Now I kind of follow my compass, my inner compass. I have days that I sit down in front of the ocean and I'll cry silently for hours. And I have days that I don't even think about it. Sometimes it's something that will trigger a moment, that tenderness, that sport in the heart. And so I'll tend to that. But life does not stop because you have cancer. Isn't it something? And nobody cares. People say, oh, we shoot, and they send pretty cards and whatnot. But their lives are busy, too. The thing is that those who care about you and who are close to you will care. But it's a very personal journey. It is. And it can be all about the cancer and the journey and the treatment. Or it can be also about that. That's one part of your life, but also all of the other aspects of living. And so for me, I think handling cancer has been about living. I'm really, really savoring every opportunity that I have. The rule of it. I fill up every day. Every minute of every day is full. There are no moments when, I guess, no, no, no. Every moment of every day I wake up ready to go. Let's get it on. Because you do learn when you look at that, the big C, as he called it, when you come face to face with this, this is mortality. Oh, there's an end to this. And when you look at it right dead in the eye and say, I'm mortal. There's a fine finality to this. Then you have to get in every minute of every day to get, to do, to live, to enjoy the time you have on this planet. And that has been like your way of coping with it, which is you feel like I have so much I want to accomplish and to do and have places to go. I've done a lot of that in my journey, but I also, and now I really appreciate that time where I can't undo things. I have the unto do list. Ah, I've got to do that. I've got to do that. I am going to make it. Un-to-do list. It's amazing. So the power of delegation, the power of letting go, the power of really thinking about scheduling your priorities, because for every second that we spend doing something, that means that that is part of your life that you are also committing to it. So I have a horrible time saying no to people or to, you know, assignments. And so this has been a wonderful practice to be able to say no with a smile. You know? And it's important because then I can also say yes to the other things that have always been put in the back but which is part of living for me, my journey. You know? And, you know, not too many years ago we had this movement of live strong through lens, I'm strong. And I wear the, you know, the yellow bracelets and yeah, live strong and all of that. And I think the true healing for me has really started to occur because there is the healing in multiple levels. This is the one of the illness itself but your entire life, your spirit, your heart, your relationships, everything is shifted and that there are gains but there are sort of big losses in that process. And so I think to be able to come to terms with all that had happened it has taken me years it continues, it's an ongoing process, you know. So I'm starting to grieve and to reflect on losses and relationships that will serve and pain that other people have felt, you know, that loved me and that, you know, I wasn't able to really support them because I was not in the position to do it now, years later. I am now in a position where I can start thinking more about how to support those who are close to my life where I think it's a journey that only occurs as you start going through it. As you go through it, yes. And even though it's not my job but to do that and it's very harder to be able to tell people the truth and not sugarcoat it because those are tears of love and worry and I feel I have a responsibility to support them also. But that's part of my journey now. There was no part of my journey or my other three recurrences, you know. I didn't allow for people to be much of a part of that. I pushed people away. I ignored the cancer as much as I could, you know. I, you know, my family suffered a lot, especially my daughter. You know, the first two times I really minimized the cancer. She didn't have to worry about so much because I was functional. The third time she saw this hurricane awakening and she's a little, I'm just like, what happened to my mother, you know, in plastic hormones and everything else. And so, you know, it's really a process. It's a process to tell people they're around you that's like, it's gonna be okay no matter what happens. I don't have a, I don't have an agenda. I want to, you know, get better about my goal is to be above room temperature every morning for as long as I can and to live as happily as I can. Well, as always it's a pleasure spending this time with you and come back and watch Beatrice today at four, no, Friday. Fridays, yes. Friday at four o'clock. And I love being with you. I love spending this time and this is dedicated, this show is dedicated to anybody, everybody that's living with cancer. So again, thank you. Thank you. I love her. I know her.