By Adriana Ermter
In our bi-monthly column, senior writer and editor Adriana Ermter shares her personal experiences with breast cancer
The hot flash didn't arrive gradually. It exploded.
I was standing in line at the fish counter inside the St. Lawrence Market when a wave of heat suddenly rushed through me. It felt like a fire had started deep inside my body, beginning at my toes and racing upward until it burst through the top of my head. Within seconds, I was sweating, my face was bright red and my clothes felt like they were glued to my skin. I started peeling off layers as quickly as I could, eventually standing there in a tank top and leggings, embarrassed and desperate for the heat to stop.
Everyone around me noticed and pretended not to. The gentleman standing in front of me asked if I wanted something to drink before disappearing for a moment and returning with an ice-cold Diet Coke. He gave it to me with a concerned look on his face. I appreciated his kindness, but in that moment, I also felt extremely exposed. I had just had surgery and finished months of breast cancer treatment, felt and looked like crap, and had started taking a daily dose of Tamoxifen, which had brought on the instant menopause with hot flashes and every other awful symptom you can imagine. I barely recognized myself.
Breast cancer did that. It changed my body, the way I saw it, the way I felt about it, and my relationship with it.
Breast Cancer Changed the Way I See Myself
It changed how I think about food, movement, energy, my energy and weight gain. Most people assume you lose weight after a cancer diagnosis. Not always. I gained about 40 pounds within the first 60 days of taking breast cancer’s estrogen-supressing drug, Tamoxifen. I’ve now been cancer free for more than five years and that weight has never fully come off.
Sure, I can sometimes shed 10 pounds, but all it takes are three big lunches back-to-back or a lack of willpower in the chips aisle at the grocery store and the weight comes right back and then some. I don’t deal with that reality very well. My negative self-talk is real.
The hardest part isn't just the number on the scale. It’s seeing my reflection and not recognizing the person looking back. It’s remembering what I used to look like, how I used to feel and the uncomplicated relationship I once had with food.
I miss my pre-cancer body.
The way it looked in my favourite pair of Levis, how it could pedal uphill in spin class without making loud panting noises and how it savoured every bite of a hamburger and fries, guilt free. It’s taken me years to stop asking myself, "How do I get my old body back?" I’ve tried to replace that question with a different one: "What can I do to help this body feel better?"
Breast Cancer Changed the Way I Eat
That question led me to take a closer look at what I was eating and how different foods affect how I feel.
One of the first things I noticed was how certain foods seemed to influence my Tamoxifen-induced menopause symptoms. After enjoying a Greek pastry or two scoops of Oreo ice cream, my hot flashes seemed more frequent and intense, my sleep at night was disrupted and my energy disappeared more quickly. Eating a grilled cheese sandwich (my favourite), cheese and crackers (also my favourite) and adding hot sauce to a meal also seemed to aggravate these symptoms. Turns out, dairy, gluten and refined grains all stoke the fire burning inside me. So, I started paying closer attention to what I ate and the strange patterns that followed.
I wasn't looking for a magic solution. I knew there was no single food that would undo cancer treatment or make all the side effects disappear. I was simply trying to understand my body and find small ways to support myself.
That led me to learn more about sugar and inflammation. There is a lot of confusion surrounding sugar and cancer. One of the biggest myths is that eating sugar directly causes breast cancer or that eliminating sugar can starve cancer cells. According to an article published by Cancer Research UK, the reality is much more complicated. Every cell in our bodies uses glucose (a type of sugar) for energy. While cancer cells often consume it at a faster rate than healthy cells, avoiding sugar does not stop cancer cells from getting the fuel they need. What diets high in added sugars can do, however, is contribute to weight gain, insulin resistance and chronic inflammation. Research published by the National Library of Medicine explains that inflammation is a natural process that helps our bodies heal when we need it, yet, when it becomes chronic, it can contribute to a variety of health concerns such as staying active, managing stress and getting enough rest.
I stopped thinking about nutrition as a list of food I couldn't have and started thinking about what I could add to my life. More whole foods. Less canned soups. More lean protein. Less red meat. More raw and steamed veggies. Less salads. More meals that left me feeling energized and fuller longer. And while I still eat Purdy’s Chocolates’ Sweet Georgia Browns and my sister’s whipped shortbread by the handful at Christmas, I’ve also become much more selective about eating sugar in general.
If I'm going to deal with an intensified hot flash, extra stiff joints and flushed red skin, the treat I’m reveling in must be truly worth it. I'm talking about my mom’s soft, homemade peanut butter cookies still warm from the oven or a piece of rich Dubai chocolate that feels like an experience, not a mindless snack. I've learned that if I'm going to indulge, I want it to be something I genuinely enjoy.
Reducing sugar hasn't magically make my weight disappear. Not even a little bit. The 40 pounds I gained during treatment have been one of the most stubborn parts of my recovery. Like many women taking hormone therapy, I continue to work on weight management and yes, it’s extremely frustrating when my efforts don't show up in the mirror. But I have noticed changes. When I reduce added sugar, I feel less sluggish. I have more energy. I feel more in control of the choices I'm making, like when and how I want to exercise.
Breast Cancer Changed the Way I Move
Prior to my diagnosis, I was a member of a CrossFit gym. I know. I look back and don’t know what I was thinking either. I also used to go to weekly spin classes and a beginner’s hip-hop cardio dance class, which I loved. I still exercise, but I’ve had to modify how I exercise.
After treatment, once I had enough energy to actually want to do something more than go to bed at 6 p.m., I started participating in a foam roller class I found on YouTube. They were slow-paced, I could do them in my pajamas (and did) and I never had to leave my condo. I also walked. A lot. Slowly at first, and just one loop around the block. Then I added more loops around the block, an extra 15 minutes, invited a neighbour to join me and eventually, I was and am able to walk at a brisk clip for an hour.
For the past two and a half years, I’ve also been swimming laps at the community centre pool a couple of times each week and I love it. It still takes an enormous amount of self-talk and scheduling to make sure I get there, but once I’m in the water I feel like myself again. Swimming brings me back to being me: a lifelong swimmer and an all-time water baby. When I’m in the pool, I’m reminded that my body is resilient. That my body is strong; it survived surgery, radiation, oral chemo and working 9 to 5 through it all. Yes, I struggle to carry a box of cat litter from the parking garage to the elevator. And yes, I still get winded when I race up the four flights of stairs to the pool where I coach competitive artistic swimmers five times a week. But at least I’m doing it. All of it, swimming, walking and lugging cat litter reminds me that my body is more than just the way it looks.
And while this thought process has required a lot of reframing and is still not a message I pull up on autopilot and happily agree with or always believe, I have accepted that healthy living after cancer isn't about perfection. It isn't about never eating sugar again or following a strict set of rules. It is about paying attention, making better choices for me and finding what helps me feel like my real self, my right-now self and not the self I used to be or think I should be.
Adriana Ermter is a multi award-winning writer and editor. Her work can be read in FASHION, IN Magazine, 29Secrets.com, RethinkBreastCancer.ca and AmongMen.com. The former Beauty Director for FASHION and Editor-in-Chief for Salon and Childview magazines lives in Toronto with her two very spoiled rescue cats, Murphy and Olive. You can follow Adriana on Instagram @AdrianaErmter
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