Hot Cocoa Diagnosed

A Cocoa Chronicle Vignette by Valerie Williams-Sanchez

My sister-in-chocolate, Gloria*, had become quite unsettled, almost nervous. It was a notable and noticeable change from the normally unflappable demeanor I have known her to have since we became college friends more than two decades ago in California. Her uneasiness got my attention. After all, this is a woman who has traversed to India, Latin America and the Caribbean, several European countries and had even done a two-year bid, teaching in Central Africa, dodging termite showers and stomach parasites in post-war Chad. More, and perhaps as challenging, after surviving all of that, she'd gone on to become a high school math teacher in New York City. 

Gloria isn't an emotional light weight. But she was worried. And I could tell. She was tutoring me in math, in preparation of my sitting to take the GRE, but something else was up. It seemed she had recently had an irregular mammogram and had been scheduled for a biopsy in the coming week. She was on pins and needles about the possibilities. "One in seven women get breast cancer," she told me in true mathematician style. The look of worry seemed to give way to momentary relief at sharing what had been bothering her.  It was an opportunity to voice her fears.

I listened. 

She continued telling me about how one abnormal test had given way to another inconclusive result, and how the waiting had been tough. Then I leveled with her. If the stats were one in seven, she was probably in the clear since I too had recently had an irregular mammogram.

"But I have it," I said flatly. "I have Breast Cancer."

"Really?" she asked with incredulity.

"Really," I confirmed.

Then she asked me the question one ob-gyn, three radiologists, two breast surgeons, two reconstructive plastic surgeons and myriad nurses, physician assistants, hospital and insurance forms had posed to me previously: "How did you find the lump?"

The  Diagnosis

It began as just another lump. This time, in my left breast, the knot was like others I'd found while doing my self exam. I have had others before. I even joked one year after my annual mammogram how looking for one, which at the time was deemed benign, had been like an Easter egg hunt, in which the technician had to push, probe and prod, until the familiar mound had been hunted down, and checked. That's why this year when I was told my mammogram was irregular, I wasn't so alarmed, at least not at first. 

I knew the drill, well. A former healthcare writer for a now defunct publisher of medical and healthcare industry news and reports, I had written about breast cancer, protocols and pharmaceutical therapies that had proven efficacies in treatment years prior. I knew the disease is caused when mutant cells in breast tissue grow rampant, creating tumors which could be benign or malignant, harmless or deadly. I also knew early detection through mammogram (x-ray of the breast) is still the best method for mitigating overall all risk, since currently, there is still no cure.

More, I understood that early detection offers more treatment options and a higher likelihood for survival. This was why years ago when I worked for almost a decade for a non-profit, even before this current incident, I subscribed and paid out of pocket to maintain costly health insurance, basic care and coverage for myself and daughter, care that included my annual check-ups. In these ways alone, I was perhaps dissimilar to many other black women, according to the website, BlackDoctor.org.

And so, like for so many women with breast lumps, I thought little of it, never dreaming I would be the one in seven or eight women for whom one of those lumps, would be life changing and that on a day in June would prompt me to hear these words: "Yeah, it's breast cancer," my initial, diagnosing physician had said. "It looked suspicious," and the results confirmed it.

Breast Cancer does not discriminate.

While awaiting my test results, I had been in denial. "I'm too young for any of that," I rationalized. "Besides, I'm years away from menopause. It's probably just another cyst (a fluid-filled sac that can be drained), or maybe a fibro adenoma (an abnormal noncancerous growth)." Maybe, if left it alone, it would, "go away" as other such lumps had in the past. But this year, this time, there was a difference.

Another lump, a bit higher up my side, nearer to my under arm, marked one difference. Pre-menstrual at the time of my mammogram, I'd been directed to have an ultra-sonogram to reach a more conclusive result. And so, I lay in the radiologist's office, on yet another day, while the technician worked the goo-slathered wand, up and down, massaging my side, until even I could see gathered, rising beneath my skin a small, protruding mound. This time what I thought would turn out to be a "pseudo lump," caused by hormonal changes, wasn't.

Completely painless, the new mass and the main tumor were firm to the touch. In hindsight, and at nearly 4cm, the growths were too large to be ignored. Like the young woman in the fable, The Princess and the Pea, I had felt the mass growing all along, but after one then another benign result, I had learned to live with the knot as an irritant.

I had not forgotten about the lump, and had been keeping watch on it. Something that size isn't easy to forget. But things in my life had gotten busy for the better part of a year, as I had begun to live the life of a bi-coastal commuter, traveling between New Jersey and California for work. Through it all, I had struggled to connect with my regular ob-gyn in Irvine, Calif. to have my annual exam. I'd finally given up trying to schedule an appointment in the West, and found a new doctor in the East. I went through the usual battery of test and exams, with all the usual results – with one exception.

With almost a week ahead of me to await the test results, I had agonized over and role-played most every possible outcome, in preparation of the best and the worst. But it was one day at work that proved pivotal in my mental preparation.

My Unbroken Bat
A co-worker regularly brings in the "broken bats" from her husband's and her budding business, which packages and sells pretzel rods or "bats," to major league baseball venues on the East Coast. Almost weekly, she brings in broken pretzel sticks for us in our department to gnosh on. Much like the water cooler in other offices, the large garbage bag of broken pretzels rests atop an island of file cabinets in our department work area, serving as an informal gathering spot. The day before I received the call from my doctor, I had reached into the plastic bag and pulled out, blindly, a whole bat.  With all the others broken, mine had been the long stick pulled in some cosmic draw. I saw it as a sign.

The next day, I got the call and the request to schedule a PET-scan. This test was to determine whether the cancer had spread to other parts of my body. I took the test and, fortunately, it had not.

African American women are more likely than all other women to die from breast cancer, according to BlackDoctors.com, because for black women, tumors are found at a later, more advanced, stage so there are fewer treatment options. Poor access to healthcare or not following-up after getting abnormal test results is common among women of color. Other reasons may include distrust of the health care system, the belief that mammograms are not needed, or not having insurance.

Now "in the club" few want to be in, I've been told by other esteemed and longtime members of the "cancer club," support groups and in reading and hearing testimonials, that if I have to have cancer, breast cancer is among the best forms to have. This is because I will get everything to treat it; surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. Survival rates and quality of life following breast cancer treatment, at my levels, are high.

Thankfully, Gloria's case turned out to be a false alarm. Later, she told me she felt badly when I suggested that we celebrate her good news, given my misfortune. But to her concern, I told her: "Don't feel bad for me, I'll be living even more fully, now."

And in many ways this is true. I feel lucky, or stated differently, blessed by God and faith, to have been diagnosed and to have been afforded the resources that enabled swift action to address my cancer, which post mastectomy, has been determined to be a Stage II.

Ah, the luck of the draw.

V~


*Gloria is a fictitious name. This name has been changed to maintain anonymity. 

© 2011 Valerie Williams-Sanchez. All rights reserved.

Hot Cocoa Healthy

A Cocoa Chronicle Vignette

Luscious, lovely locks, they are any woman's crowning glory, be they long and luxurious, cut short and spiky or even tender, perhaps tough, curling tendrils. Hair is serious business for women, but especially for women of color. Hair sets the tone and sets the bar for beauty among women of color and can often speak volumes of each's personal politics, agenda, tastes, preferences and/or style. 

Hair, like body image, is a blank canvas of creativity for many women of color that is used boldly or conservatively at will, and often for affect. Hair can also be a harbinger, heralding details about a woman's health.

Hair and hairstyle 'flava' was the topic du jour, sipping hot cocoa yesterday morning with my mother. We were looking at and talking about celebrity manes. Specifically, I was considering Beyonce's white chocolate blond, Tyra's cinnamon-mocha red and Naomi's dark chocolate brunette, tresses.

I relished in the moment sharing a cup of one of my more exotic, hot cocoa elixirs – NibMor Organic Drinking Chocolate, Six Spice -- with her, which, she enjoyed while I had a more old-world cup of Payard Chocolat Chaud avec Pepites de Chocolat Ameres, laced with cocoa beans. My daughter who came along to join us a bit later sipped a cold Cola Cao, the Spanish equivalent of Nesquik or Ovaltine, she brought back from her recent trip to Spain visiting her Spanish relatives, my former in-laws. It was early morning and driving to a Starbucks for coffee wasn't an option. It was also my first day home from Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.  

In June of this year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. And on August 1, 2011, I underwent a unilateral, modified, radical mastectomy with axillary lymph node dissection. In plain English, a few days ago, I had a mastectomy to remove my left breast.

Diagnosed only a few months ago at another hospital, the procedure was the a result of a second opinion consultation at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan. It was through this consultation that I was afforded the option of a unilateral, as opposed to the bilateral, mastectomy, as originally prescribed. 

After what was considered an extended-stay in the hospital, I had been released, was resting comfortably on this morning after two, exhausting and nauseated days. I was not simply enjoying, but really savoring, the cup of sweet stuff like never before. Curled up on the sofa, I was warmed and comforted by hot cocoa, among the first foods I was able to keep down. Our talk of celebrity hair styles centered on cranial prosthesis, also known as wigs, and which brand and style I might select.

Now, preparing for chemotherapy, I am contemplating the next phase of my treatment and how to own my experience, embrace the forthcoming changes in my appearance, while continuing to love my body and myself back to good health.  

Much has transpired over the weeks between my first diagnosis and my procedure, about which I will write in subsequent posts. And still more, new things are yet to come. 

Now through to the first part of my recovery, in the days ahead, I'll be writing about most all of this experience, looking at breast cancer and treatment from the perspective of a woman of color, my point of view.

While cancer is cancer, I'm finding out that there are cultural differences, considerations specific to ethnic body image, and socio-economic challenges worth writing about as well as rich resources of spirit, hope and friendship that are only just beginning to unfold.

© 2011 Valerie Williams-Sanchez. All rights reserved.

Hot Chocolate, Ugly?

A Cocoa Chronicle Vignette

For as many variations of chocolate that exist, there are equal number of hues and tones of women of color. And many, black women in particular, embrace this coincidence, boldly. Many a "sistah" has likened hers, the skin color of dark, milk, even white chocolate. And just as many know what it is like to be called-out to amorously. "Hey, Cocoa Brown!" or "Hot Chocolate!" or even "Milk Chocolate Momma!" These are terms of endearment to our collective, the sorority of African Diasporan sistahs.

Strolling through Brooklyn, Harlem, Los Angeles, Orange County, Calif. -- my home, and so very many places in between and beyond, you cannot help but marvel at our diverse and wide array of beauty. We come in all sizes and shapes, heights, weights, and wear a cornicopia of fashions, styles and looks, ranging from classical to way, way out there. We so often create "looks" that are all our own and that go on to set the pace for the "mainstream." Yeah, black chicks rock. Just look around.

This is why just over a month ago, mine wasn't a reactionary response, when Satoshi Kanazawa's study results were published in Psychology Today, drawing wide spread response and backlash for suggesting that Black women are genetically predisposed to be ugly.

In the results, the author claimed he had quantified proof that Black Women, as a class of people, are blanketly and broadly, less attractive than their same gender counterparts, based on his efforts to objectively and quantitatively measure the physical attractiveness of peoples of various races.

Using emperical data to conclude that most men and women's attractiveness rate as above-average, Kanazawa leaps inferentially to claim that "black women are significantly less physically attractive than women of other races."

Psychology Today ran the story and the sparks continue to fly.

http://www.stlamerican.com/news/local_news/article_db898c9e-7ff4-11e0-93d2-001cc4c002e0.html

My reaction to the story and its premise, wasn't one of fury or anger, as I understood the "science" behind the headline wasn't really about beauty or even ugliness, at all.

While my read may have minced semantic hairs, it is also took into consideration a whole host of different judgments, social and racial stereotypes, etc. that probably were melted into Kanazawa's conclusions.

This is to say, I clearly don't think Black women are ugly, but our natural physical beauty, features and attributes which are at once loathed and loved, are often, grossly undervalued until they are appropriated.

Consider the popularity of beauty enhancing treatments such as tanning, lip injections, butt lifts, braided and crimped hairstyles. With so many of our attributes being "copied," black women and our beauty cannot be all bad. Tastes, however, can be bad and do change. And since our American culture is one which drives and set standards for many things global, no doubt as such perceptions shift so will the barometer of chocolate beauty.

Further, I think, more and more broadly, that the average black woman is given fewer options, reasons, expectations and resources for and with which to really try and contend with conventional Western standards of beauty. Often times, I feel this is why black women develop, define and embrace our own notions of beauty, rather than assimilating to exisitng, culturally non-inclusive ideas and ideals that constrict, alienate and run counter to many black women's real lives.

As an example, I look at the publication Today's Black Woman, and others, ones which I feel are  fascinating attempts to re-cast a black female aesthetic into a broader, more modern, net. African, "exotic-looking" and European-esque though strongly, clearly and proudly black, bi-racial models in the magazine and publications like Essence and Ebony, more and more seem to be trying to articulate a broader view of a black beauty and to a larger extent, style by offering a very different, fresh voice. This new approach is at once softer, yet edgier, modern yet reminiscent of our past and everpresent flair for originality.

Some of my recent writing, about skin care, and beauty treatments, have an eye to this dynamic and the polemic of creating a modern black beauty, the common thesis: To be one's best, on one's own terms.

Looking to kick things up a notch, in terms of a pursuit of being my best self, I've been trying to stretch, and to try new things, changing my own perceptions of "what is and isn't Black", and steping out of old comfort zones to embrace change. My 15-year-old daughter helps me with this a lot. Busily developing her own sense of style, my child has inspired me to rock sidewalk-grey mani-pedis, stack on chunky and skinny bracelets and to generally pay more attention to details so many of us black women forget in our day-to-day, hustle-and-bustle lives.

More, watching my relatively carefree child move through her world, I'm reminded that there's nothing quite as pretty or as inviting on anyone than a smile. And that is universal. But for so long, and for so many black women worldwide and here in the U.S., a simple smile has been a luxury.


Attenuating Invisible Women, Neither Seen or Heard?

Further, the article, Are Black Women Invisible?; Do Black women go unnoticed more often? Published on December 8, 2010 by Melissa Burkley, Ph.D. in The Social Thinker as linked below is to me, presents a polematic more clarion than Kanazawa's tale. It also was published in Psychology Today. Notice the article's thesis. then consider that FLOTUS, Michelle Obama's reign has a shelf life, that is a direct relationship to President Obama's term limits. More, this paired with Grande Dame, Oprah Winfrey's retirement make this story, in my opinion, more unsettling and disturbing than the other about black women's beauty.

These named are strong, often outspoken women, just as so many of out historical heros are. Ironically, it is this same strength, when parsed out and named with such adjectives, have led to sweeping characterizations of black women as aggressive, shrews, with masculine tendencies, perhaps a social factor that has landed the collective to be cast as ugly and not feminine, beyond obvious examples or incidents of hormonal imbalance.

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-social-thinker/201012/are-black-women-invisible

More, to the introduction about Rosa Parks, I think black women are forced to "get ugly" far too often. So much so, that such ugly behavior has become expected as part of the way in which the world sees the collective of black women, albeit a stereotypic assumption.

Speaking loudly, being combative, wearing the constant scowl of self-defense and the "attitude" of resistance against gender and ethnic marginalization is not pretty, but rather is tiresome and corrosive, factors which over the years can have lasting effects on one's countenance, physical health and overall sense of well-being. Making this all the more a circular an arguement, such behaviors become self-fulfulling, beyond notions of simple perception. Consider the old adage re-written: Ugly is as ugly does. Perhaps when fewer black women no longer have to fight to be seen heard and respected, more of our numbers will have the luxury to be pretty.

© 2011 Valerie Williams-Sanchez. All rights reserved.

Hot Chocolate Beauty and Confidence for Spring

A Cocoa Chronicle Vignette

As winter gives way to warm, the appearance of hot chocolate beverages wanes, giving way to lighter options or those that refresh. But, ubiquitous for its myriad benefits, health properties, flavor and overall constitution, hot chocolate is now turning up in surprising places for use in unexpected applications.

From hot chocolate massage to chocolate facials, mani/pedis, chocolate is among the hottest ingredients in professional beauty products. In all of its forms, dark, milk, white and even the butter of the cocoa bean (cocoa butter), chocolate infusions are giving tried and true beauty techniques an aromatic and decadent lift. 

According to Experts.com (http://expertscolumn.com/content/beauty-uses-chocolate), chocolate's beauty enhancing properties include:

Skin Softener

• The skin softening properties of chocolate comes directly from its major content, the cocoa butter. Chocolate is extremely rejuvenating for your skin and refreshes the skin. It has turned out to be an excellent beauty ingredient and is being heavily used in beauty care treatments for its skin softening ingredients. It is an exceptional natural moisturizer which makes your skin soft and supple.

Smooths Wrinkles

• The anti-oxidants also known as anti-aging allies in dark chocolate helps to avoid and prevents the free radicals from damaging the skin’s elastin, collagen and various other proteins. Therefore, chocolate is used in various beauty treatments to smooth out the wrinkles.

Reduces Scars and Stretch Marks

• The fat content in cocoa butter is made of high quality linoleic acid which gives chocolates the ability to diminish fine lines, and reduce the appearance of scars and stretch marks. Chocolaty treatments help the skin to gradually regain its lost elasticity and aids in getting back one's youthful glow. Chocolate cures also protect the skin from the harmful effects of sun exposure and pollution.

Exfoliates and Nourishes

• Application of chocolate has amazing results. It nourishes the skin while sloughing off dead skin cells. Chocolate based beauty cures help to revitalize the skin.

Finally, according to Livestrong.com [1], chocolate stimulates the release of serotonin, a hormone that can induce feelings of peace and well being, a perfect touch for any spa or salon treatment.

More, according to http://livestrong.com/ :

Chocolate has appeared as an ingredient in beauty and body products since the mid-1800s, when beauty manufacturers discovered the skin softening benefits of cocoa butter. ...It's only recently, however, chocolate's benefits as a body treatment have started to undergo scientific investigation, thanks in part to scientists' discovery that consumption of chocolate can have health benefits for some people...[1].

After learning about the beauty benefits of chocolates, I was eager to experience chocolate beauty care. I noticed one such novelty--at least it was new to me--as part of a Living Social "deal" for a Hot Chocolate waxing treatment, offered at a New York City salon.

After a historically long winter spent covered-up in pants, my mid-calf-lengthed puffer coat, tights and hose, the notion of a wax treatment, with spring and summer fast approaching, seemed ideal. And a treatment -- or anything else for that matter -- that included chocolate, well, all the better. I purchased the "deal", without giving it a second thought. Discounted from $40 to about $20, I thought, if nothing else it would make for a fun tale for these, my Hot Cocoa Chronicles. But after the experience, I am pleased to say without reservation, I came away with so much more.

The salon, though not super upscale, was modern, organized and solidly appointed with things like flat-screen entertainment, luxury armchairs for pedicure and massage, nice quality and range of nail colors, and tidy and orderly treatment rooms. Clean, scrubbed with just the right amount of luxury, the salon was decorated in shades of orange, and was relaxed and comfortable. I would definitely go back for repeat and new services.

The staff and beauticians were pleasant and professional. Lisa, my very respectable, mature, beautician, who I guessed to be of Eastern European descent, definitely hooked me up!

It was my first time for a wax, but Lisa immediately put me at ease, and I remained so throughout the entire treatment. She answered my very many questions and gave great information, sharing the features and benefits of the product, chocolate wax, in a way that demonstrated her knowledge and inspired confidence.

   

In the treatment room, there was a kettle of molten, liquid chocolate that looked fondue-ready, complete with skewer-esque, tongue depressor-like applicators, which seemed to be just asking for marshmallows, strawberries or other tasty, drenchable morsels. Tempted to dip my finger in the waxy goo, I was called back to the task at hand when Lisa knocked, then entered the room, ready to get to work.

Flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, she went to work applying and ripping strips away. As she worked, she told me how chocolate wax was great for sensitive skin, and particularly skin of color, given its all natural qualities. This had been among the attributes of the treatment that drew me to the offer in the first place.

The product she used on this day also contained almond oil, ingredients which, together, were said to minimize redness and irritation and fully leverage the anti-inflammatory qualities of the cocoa bean. Wax infused with chocolate is also reported to offer less discomfort and a more pleasant aroma, adding to the overall sense of decadence. More, hot chocolate for waxing leaves little to no residue. For a bikini waxing procedural 101, click http://beauty.about.com/od/hairremoval/ht/bikiniwax.htm to learn more.

I felt I was in good hands the whole way. Lisa and I gabbed about: relationships, love and marriage; men, both, good and bad; love gone wrong and divorce. She was totally genuine, endearing and inspiring of, like the shop's name, confidence. When you're bearing it all getting waxed, confidence means a lot. Our conversation was a diversion, but Lisa's sharing added another layer of disclosure to the experience that made it memorable.

Now, perhaps, I'm making more of this than it was, (we writers tend to do that) but after a long winter, this California girl came away feeling rejuvenated, more open, ready for spring and to interact with the world. Not speaking sexually or being facetious -- it's not like I'll go streaking through Times Square orMid-town showing off "my work" to strangers -- but rather, I felt the protective boundaries created to weather the harshness of winter have permeated my psyche and anatomy until now. This experience however, has worked to exfoliate much of the facade that distanced me from the elements, the world, and people around me.

The inter-personal exchange, my vulnerability through the process and the pealing away of superfice, quite literally as well as metaphorically, have ushered in a new season of openness and hope. In a few words, it's given me a new "confidence."

Yes, spring, with all of its chocolaty goodness, has arrived in New York!

RECIPE: At-Home Chocolate Face Mask

If you can’t wait for the next Living Social or Groupon offer, and a chocolate wax or spa treatment is not in your budget, you might want to give a try to this at-home option for a chocolate mask, from http://www.livestrong.com/ [1]. To make the experience more luxurious, throw on a plush robe and slippers, turn-up your favorite music, and sip a cup of cocoa, hot or chilled chocolate dessert tea, like Tea Forte's Belgian Mint, or Coco Truffle, http://www.teaforte.com/.  Even a glass of champagne if you're really feeling indulgent will melt away any residual winter frost. After, you too, will be ready for spring in no time.

• Mask Ingredients: 1/3 cup cocoa, 1/4 cup honey, two tbsp. heavy cream and three tsp. of oatmeal powder. Blend ingredients until well mixed. Apply gently to your face with a massaging motion so the oatmeal can exfoliate your dead skin cells. After 20 minutes, rinse your face with lukewarm water.

Footnotes

[1] Livestrong.com: http://www.livestrong.com/article/291842-chocolate-body-treatment/#ixzz1MS0mO0kE
[2] Livestrong.com: http://www.livestrong.com/article/164163-chocolate-spa-treatment/#ixzz1MRzbiTA9

© 2011 Valerie Williams-Sanchez. All rights reserved.