HENNY, THE TOUGH CHICK
Henny was born in January of 2021.
I was diagnosed with stage 3 colorectal cancer in the fall of 2018. After colon resection, I started chemo treatment, but an enzyme deficiency brought me close to organ failure, so I had to abandon adjuvant treatment midway. Half a year later, I developed an incisional hernia at the Ileostomy site while on a short vacation to Europe.
Within thirty hours of touching down on German soil, a serious bowel obstruction landed me in the Emergency Room of a hospital in Cologne, where a highly specialized surgeon was prepared to open me straight up and sort out my innards. During one of my sleepless nights, my nurse, who had witnessed such a surgery, described it as opening up the body, taking out the whole intestinal package, sifting through it inch by inch, fixing everything, and then packing it up neatly and stuffing it back where it came from.
More info: Instagram | Facebook
What it is like to be diagnosed with Cancer & How family and friends can support their loved one
Knowing my German countrymen, I figured they would not let me out of that hospital for many weeks to come. Therefore I declined that offer and rather made them pump countless liters of IV fluids through me to resolve the obstruction. In the enforced isolation of my hospital room, I would walk around after round like a caged tiger, trying desperately to get my bowels moving again. It worked, but I got so bloated by the huge amounts of fluids that I looked like I was about to give birth to twins, and my swollen feet barely fit into my shoes.
I left the hospital just in time to attend my 30th class reunion in my hometown, and I was on the plane back to Canada the following day. Two days after arrival, I found myself in my local ER with yet another serious blockage, which expedited me into reversal surgery the following week.
The Cancer Beast
Grief
In Canada, they try to get you out of the hospital as quickly as possible, and I went home three days after my reversal, but I was back in the ER just four days later, again with bowel obstruction. This time they realized that I had a huge hole in my abdominal wall, which required a large mesh to fix it. My surgeon begged me to wait for two months with this next surgery, to allow the ileostomy site to heal first. He was concerned that the mesh would cause serious inflammation.
I decided to wait. It was the longest two months of my life. I was in bed most of the time, crying in pain, utterly exhausted, not eating, not sleeping, throwing up while shitting my pants due to the side effects of the original colon resection. My apologies – TMI…
The Rabbit Hole
Being crushed
My all-time low, notwithstanding the misery I went through during the chemo poisoning. The times I was halfway okay, I went to work. I had designed a mansion for a client, and the construction crew could not wait for my input until my side effects subsided.
That hernia repair was the most brutal of all surgeries I went through. My belly was on fire, and the pain meds did not work. The ones that finally worked caused hallucinations, so I immediately weaned myself off them. I cocooned for a month; recovery was prolonged this time around. While I had not lost any hair during chemo, my hair now came out by the bushel due to the stress.
Crosshairs
Vulnerability
Just as I was finally ready to jump back into action, COVID entered the world stage. Canada had a strict shut-down policy, which was honestly the best thing that could happen to me at this point. I needed an enforced break after this year from hell. I cocooned a little longer and worked on many private creative projects.
Then one of our beloved kitties died prematurely of cancer. I got triggered and fell into a deep hole. To get out of it, I started to illustrate her very unusual rescue story, and to my surprise, I was very pleased with the result. All the while, I wondered how and when I would finally be able to work through the trauma of my cancer diagnosis. One day, one of my FB support groups asked for a design for a group T-Shirt with the topic ‘Tough Chick.’
And voila, Henny the Tough Chick was born.
PTSD
Chemo
Henny is my Alter Ego; I can express the horror of a Big C diagnosis through her and her friends with a touch of lightheartedness. My life’s motto has always been to find the “Magic in the Everyday.” Cancer took that away from me for a while; I did not recognize myself anymore- physically, mentally, spiritually. Henny is also able to open up the conversation with my partner. As close as we are, he never quite understood how cancer affected me, and he is often shocked by the raw power of my illustrations.
I want Henny to be a tool to help friends and family members understand what their Tough Chicks are going through and how they can support them. The power of visuals might result in a more visceral response than the written word, and the illustrations might be an ideal vehicle to communicate with younger humans about Cancer.
Brain Fog
Like the trees in autumn
Henny does have a mind of her own. She is a work in progress, and I am always surprised by what wants to come to the surface. Not all drawings are rooted in personal experience, as I am often inspired by the words of my fellow Tough Chicks.
You can find Henny on IG @toughchickandfriends. Her FB account is Henny the Tough Chick – Cancer Warrior.
Hope to see you around! Ines
Self Image
Premature Menopause
Putting on a facade
Baggage
Helpless
Don’t try to fix it
Fighting together
Walking out
A bleak future
Taboo
Menage a trois
Selfcare
Don’t borrow tomorrow’s problems today
Relaxation
Keeping up appearances
Thinking of you
Bring flowers
bring food
Offer a ride
Help with research
Just be there
Walk my dog
Playing cards
A fairy godmother for my kids
Comfy loungewear
Nourishing salves
the community of tough chicks
Inner Self
Follow Us
