Was it the Four Loko?
By Sophie Pumphrey COMMUNITY | BREAST CANCER STORIES
“I miss being normal,” I tell my therapist. I miss not having to deal with the fallout of breast cancer. I used to feel like I had no time to myself as a mom and full-time employee. Then I got cancer and added another role. Cancer Patient. Your initial introduction to this role, to use corporate speak, is like drinking from the fire hose. It requires excellent multitasking skills, like trying to seem normal at work while feeling the hot breath of mortality on your neck. And exceptional organization skills, like remembering to give all the teachers at preschool a holiday gift while contemplating major surgery, chemo, and radiation.
When you get a diagnosis like cancer, your brain tries to reason and blame. What could it have been that caused this?! Breast cancer has been rising at an alarming rate in women under 40, and I’m sure there is research underway trying to pinpoint exactly what could be going on. But for the next few years while we wait for the result of their research, I am left wondering. Was it the Four Loko?
For those of you who can’t remember (who can blame you), Four Loko was a malt beverage with caffeine. You may still see Four Loko in your local corner liquor store, but this is a weakened caffeine-free version. Original strength Four Loko, along with Sparks, paired very well with sweaty warehouse parties, punk shows in basements, and frat parties. Four Loko was a blip of time in my life, but what about the other blips, did they cause my cancer? Was it from swimming in an almost certainly polluted lake every summer from prepubescence until my late 20s? Was it the cigarettes I bummed outside of shows? Was it eating hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on that camping trip with my friends?
Of course, there are the regular culprits that run through my mind. Alcohol? Birth control? Processed foods? But those themselves don’t really tell the story of a life lived. Yes, I went water-skiing in the Ohio River next to barges filled with coal. Yes, I ate gas station fried chicken after a night of staying up late with my fellow 20-somethings. Yes, I did say yes to another beer. Yes!
I’m very familiar with the keyboard warrior types. The type that would leave a comment here to say, “Yes! You did it to yourself!” There is a special kind of judgment that only someone hiding behind a keyboard can have. News outlets love to publish articles like “5 Ways to Prevent Breast Cancer” with prudent lifestyle choices like: exercise, don’t drink, don’t be stressed, eat less meat, and don’t smoke. I can imagine that there are people out there that adhere to these rules like a religion. Nothing bad can happen to you as long as you follow these 5 holy tenants. And for the rest of us scumbags, we got what we deserved. I’m not sure about you, but I wasn’t thinking about almost 40-year-old me when I was drinking a 40. I wasn’t all bad, though; I did cook at home. I did go to the gym and go jogging. I used aluminum-free deodorant. I drank seltzer instead of soda. And I ate a lot of salad.
I posted my Four Loko question on my breast cancer online support group, and the comments that followed were an exposé on women who were out living life fully. One commented, “Once in college I accidentally spilled a little Ajax in the kofta that I served to my study group. That was what did it for sure.” Many commenters suggested that it could have been from putting phones in their bras when they didn’t have pockets. That thread went as far as to blame the patriarchy for their lack of pockets and therefore their breast cancer. Doctors hate this one weird trick to prevent cancer. Pockets! The comments were almost like a confessional of stupidity, and it warmed my heart. There was so much to blame. Like rolling cigarettes in toothpaste, having an older sister who punched you in the boob, getting nipples pierced, and being from Wisconsin.
The post and the question struck a chord in a space that is often full of not-so-fun questions. What do I need to buy to be comfortable after my double mastectomy? Should I get nipple reconstruction? The side effects from this drug are wearing me down, is it worth staying on it? What happens if I don’t do chemo or take endocrine therapy? Is it coming back?
The post-cancer diagnosis life is hard. Before the cancer diagnosis, I felt healthy. I didn’t feel sick at all. I had a lump that was kind of painful, but not at a level that made me very concerned. I was reassured countless times by my doctors that I was too young for breast cancer, and besides, I didn’t have the family history.
Now, one double mastectomy and 15 rounds of radiation later, I’m taking endocrine therapy drugs that cause intense pain in my feet and hands, and I feel like I’m 100 years old. I’ve been thrown headfirst into medically-induced menopause. Yes, I have less estrogen than your grandma. I am so achy every time I stand up, I hobble for the first 10 or so steps. I get hot flashes, my hair is thinning out and my skin all over is dry as sandpaper. I’m. So. Tired. Don’t ask me if I’m irritable.
I am on these therapy drugs for 10 YEARS, and I had the thought recently that my youthful painless days are numbered. By the time I get off these drugs, I’m going to be old and in pain again. These drugs aren’t prescribed only to torture me, though; doctors and science have saved my life. Even having the ability to reduce my risk of recurrence is a miracle that women of the past would have certainly wished for. Believe me when I say, I will gladly take the pain of being on endocrine therapy over certain death, and I would do it 100 times. I will push through the pain and work hard to stay on my medications.
As grateful as I am for the medicine to prevent recurrence, I am not without complaints. The treatments for hormone-positive breast cancer are almost like they are designed to destroy your love life. If you have a partner, you’re up to your own devices on how to have sex with a withered, dry vagina. It’s your responsibility to figure that out. Your oncologist may not tell you about this side effect. “Have you tried coconut oil?” Coconut oil: the multi-tool of the wellness world. Moisturizer, hair mask, salad dressing, and apparently, marital aid. Does it reverse vaginal atrophy? No! But thank you to my radiation oncologist for the friendly suggestion.
If you are dating, well, now you have to figure out when to tell someone you had breast cancer. The first date? The third? Do you tell someone you just started seeing, “By the way, I’m infertile, and also I might get cancer again and die. How’s your soup?” The cruelty never stops.
So, we are left wondering. As other commenters on my support group post asked, “Was it because my favorite party trick was sticking two lit cigarettes in my nostrils?” “Because I got my nails done every three weeks?” “Was it because in college I carved a hole in my couch’s arm and made it into a giant bong using empty baby food jars?” “Because I wasn’t vegan?” “Because I didn’t love the lord?”
The answer is yes, we did do this to ourselves. It was caused by our life decisions as much as it was by random bad luck. Humans do not live in a vacuum; we live out in the world in an environment that we can’t always control. Everyone I know is trying to do the right thing for their health. They drink the green juice, they fast, they try the keto diet and walk 10,000 steps a day. They think that if they do this or that, they will be protected from an early demise.
But we are fragile, and sometimes fate intervenes. We want to use science and facts to find blame because blame feels safe. Blame is the answer to the unanswerable. But blame doesn’t change reality, and it does not make cancer go away. As a cancer patient, we are often a victim being blamed for something that we did not entirely cause. If you got lung cancer after decades working in a printing shop, is it your fault? Should you have found a better job? I’ve seen reports that say even sitting at a cushy desk job all day may cause rectal cancer. What could be the least cancery career?
We live in reality and can’t 100% adhere to the perfect lifestyle. Even if we could eat 10 cups of blueberries a day and exercise 300 minutes a week, your cancer risk is never 0%. Biology is always a factor. One maladjusted cell and poof, cancer. At one unpleasant visit with my oncologist, she revealed to me that cancer is really only cured if you die from something else first. How uplifting! I can’t wait to put that on a bumper sticker with a pink ribbon.
I see the narrative that cancer is preventable. It gives the illusion that we have control over our meat sack bodies in ways that we don’t. They can tell us that we have cancer but can’t say exactly what caused it. But, if I knew what caused it, would it make a difference? I wouldn’t be able to go back in time and take back the naughty things I did, and I would still be sitting here with menopause-induced insomnia and breast implants, and scars, and radiation tattoos and pain. It was never just from microwaving soup in a plastic bowl or loving the smell of fresh gasoline in the morning. It was life. Being alive may cause cancer. Being alive may also cause family, friends, or pets. Being alive may cause drowsiness, weird rashes, and grief. Being alive may cause love. Ask your doctor if Four Loko is right for you.
Read More:
On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations
Episode 299. The Messy Middle of Breast Cancer: Chemo, Surgery, Side Effects, and Survivorship
