Jessica "Jet" Bolz is a former competitive swimmer who was 11 years old when she fought her first cancer battle, diagnosed in 1984 with stage 2A Hodgkin's lymphoma. A relapse of the disease three months after initial treatment and two subsequent primary breast cancers caused by the radiation treatment to treat the lymphoma at age 25 and then at 33, she has spent much of her 36 years of survivorship as an advocate for treatments and cure and a source of hope for the clients she works with as a water fitness trainer and therapy aide (with Jetwaterfitness LLC). Instilling the idea that every moment counts, having an attitude of gratitude and the belief that "YOU CAN" is her main objective, and she believes purpose, as a long term survivor.

Jessica Bolz

When I was a little girl, my mother placed my sister and I in brownie camp to keep us socially busy. I was never very fond of it, except for the badges you could acquire if you showed you were accomplished in something and you wore those patches like decorated army officers on a sash. I started to make it my business to collect as many as I could, sewing, hiking, swimming, crafts…. What else could I find to win another patch? Maybe some psychologist would say that was an early display of a need to satisfy ego or aesthetically show others I was worthy, but all I know is it felt great. Years later I would be diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma at 10, in the middle of a very successful competitive swimming career where I was now collecting medals instead of badges.

It feels warm when we have a sense of accomplishment and even more so when someone acknowledges it. The first time I heard I was a “survivor” I was still an adolescent; naïve, in the process of learning emotions and reactions to things and now something more serious than anything else we face, the knowledge that we are only here for a limited time. This “survivor” title felt like the best brownie badge or medal in swimming I could have received because I had worked with everything. I had to get there, mentally, physically and emotionally. I would have that badge awarded to me 3 more times in my 39 years as a survivor and 4 more bouts of cancer. I realized as time went by, I wanted to utilize my survivorship to help others to feel empowered by example. “You can do whatever you want if you believe” was the mantra flowing in my mind and out of my mouth to my clients as I trained them. 

Every now and then I would get that “special” client. It’s the type of human who “knows it all”, is a “psychologist without the credentials”, a preacher and a teacher without any of. The pretense or self-reflection to realize what is coming from their own mouth is a complete contradiction to their own behavior. This particular woman would explain all her worldly adventures, brag about her strength and tenacity and love of herself and would pity me for not having boundaries and “allowing others to cross them”. I didn’t see myself that way, but as an empath and knowing my place as her trainer, I did a lot of biting my lip. Then recently, she said something that ignited an anger in me I had never felt before.

“My one wish for you Jessica is you would not define yourself as a cancer survivor”. It implies you are on the receiving end. You are thriver and you aren’t weak. You are here now to serve others.” Although the second part of or her statement was truth, all I could think was “HOW DARE SHE!!!!?”If it’s her perception that being a survivor is a weak work, then she’s entitled to it, but I see it as the biggest honor that I could share and even have labeled on me.She followed up by saying “what’s worse is saying the word “warrior” ...“You do know my website is jetwarriorfit.com?” Again, you shouldn’t be angry. Or feel like this is about you. This is about service to others. Why can’t I be proud of who I am at the same time encouraging and motivating others. Could I chalk it up to her older age or her own ongoing depression or just the fact that she was very verbose and always felt that her way was the actual highway? NO. NO. NO. Not this time. She doesn’t get to take a badge away from me that is my favorite one on my sash. And btw, I will scream out my WARRIOR survivor call whenever I can, and I know it is changing lives and continuing to bolster mine. Survivor is my favorite word.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to 

Articles

I will continue to say that I am a “survivor,” and that is the best title I could ever receive.

Don't Tell Me I'm Not a Cancer Survivor!

Recently my grandmother passed away. She was 96 years old, and the last of her generation, alive, in our family. My aunt had been her major caretaker for the last 15 years and it was an arduous labor of love.

During the last week of my grandmother’s life, other family members were gathered back into the family circle to say goodbyes and make plans to fly out to New York for her wake and funeral. I had always been quite close with my aunt and confided in her and looked toward her nurturing love where it was absent from my own mother. So, when I got to the funeral home to see my aunt who had done all the prep work and had my grandmother with her in hospice care prior to her passing, I was not prepared for the sandpaper-esque emotional response she was having towards mostly everyone.

Understandably, she was under major distress and had the responsibility for taking on all the duties that are so emotionally draining with illness and, in this case, death. But the ensuing snappish responses towards me and others made me angry and feeling defensive.

I started to think back throughout my life and many of those years being in the midst of major anxiety, stress and distress due to my multiple battles with cancer. Is it OK to be rude to others because of what you are going through? Had I been?

Years ago, I think it was 2006, I was in the chemo treatment room in my oncology office, getting my infusion of paclitaxel for my second primary breast cancer and my fourth cancer battle. A man sat in the recliner next to me and he was visibly and audibly angry. His target became the nurse attending his IV. As he lashed out at her calling her incompetent, I saw her biting her lip and staring at him sternly but holding back because of her need to be professional.

I sat next to him, and my first thought was that he was such a horrible man, but then I thought a little more. This environment, that chair he reclined in, that little tv he was watching some game show on to pass the time, it wasn’t his choice. He didn’t want to be there, and more than that I believed he was scared.

I know I was frightened at first, but I had come to a place in my mind that this room was my safety nest. I was getting well in that room, and I liked that idea. It made me want to sit back in my chair and relax a little knowing this place was saving my life.

But I didn’t feel that way through what I call my “journey” all the time, and there were times where the nurse or doctor hurt me attempting to help. There were other times where I felt that my voice wasn’t being heard. That got me very upset, and I would suddenly spit out words meant to express my angst and frustration and I felt justifiably.

I think that it is never OK to lose your patience, but it’s unavoidable at times because our human response is very primal. When something isn’t right, we get annoyed. When we feel someone has hurt us, emotionally or physically, we lose our patience and get angry.

In a situation where it comes to our health, I think it’s OK to get mad if you know you are not being heard or handled by your medical team properly. Of course, there is a way to do it diplomatically, and that’s the catch. Sometimes we don’t take that breath before we blurt. We feel it, we say it. That that can be OK, too, at times if you can acknowledge what you did and why. If not, it’s important to apologize to that person it was directed at, at least explain why you responded the way you did.

My cousin went up to my aunt at the wake to pay his respects and introduce his girlfriend. My aunt had never really known him well, but he was doing what he could to be kind. He pronounced her name wrong, and she immediately went for the jugular, correcting him. He was embarrassed and quietly slipped away. His girlfriend had already preceded him.

I’m sure my aunt will never apologize for that or care to recognize it because it isn’t on her radar. That man in the chair yelling at that nurse didn’t apologize that day either and he didn’t explain why he was so vicious to the nurse.

I like to think that if we reflect a little more on those moments when we act not our best light because of a bigger situation like a death or an illness, we can free ourselves of the stress and unhealthy feeling it can leave us with. Impatience can cause pain for everyone. Acknowledging it can heal that pain.

When my grandmother passed, I noticed my aunt was ruder than usual, and I wondered if I was like that during my cancer experience... and if the pain I was going through excused that behavior. 

Does My Cancer Give Me a Pass at Patience? 

When one experiences a life-changing event and with that event comes trauma, uncertainty, pain and many questions, it's primal instinct to look toward others, whether it be family, friends, a therapist or a support group for comfort.

But what happens when those very people relate to you with angst, bullying, accusations or belittling? What makes that place or person you turned to for safety into a danger?	

Years ago, when I was diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma, there was no internet and one rarely spoke about therapy or therapists. I was 11 at the time, so I pretty much relied on my parents to figure out how to treat me for emotional damage. The unfortunate situation was (and still is) that I had a mother who was prone to narcissistic behavioral patterns. I became the target for her own bitterness in her life, so it was hard to feel comforted by a person who had the compassion of a cold fish.

I was used to an angry parental figure who was demeaning, sarcastic and just generally angry. When we do not have the proper nurturing, even without a significant health event, we tend to find our own coping skills; sometimes they’re not very healthy ones. I developed obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) as a coping mechanism. If I had to worry about checking if lights were on and plugs were unplugged and if I touched something four times, I wouldn’t have to focus so much on a deadly cancer I was fighting to survive from, which is damn scary.

Later in life, when I would develop breast cancer at 25, a side effect from the heavy doses of radiation they used to treat my Hodgkin lymphoma, there were new avenues for me to tap into for help: support groups, therapists and 

. At first, the idea excited me to be around others who were going through everything I was. I could experience empathy instead of sympathy and bathe in the comradery of fighting together for life!

But after a few visits to the support group, I started to notice something: I was becoming more depressed. During the meetings, other women I would speak to who had been in the group longer seemed defensive and somewhat “clicky”.

If I offered an idea for alternative supplements and other things, I was doing to help myself, I was met with an inquisition. Suddenly I was on the chopping block. I was there for support, but it began to feel like I was making a deposition in a court case! Other times the women would want to talk about their situation in the most negative way and it scared me.

I decided to leave the group and counsel others on my own, my way, which was about looking toward life and happiness and continuing our journey the best way we could. 

I am a 38-year survivor and fall into the grouping of “long-term survivorship.” In this phase, I sometimes experience a more intense fear toward biopsies and scans because I have so many at this point in my life due to damages from prior radiation and chemotherapy. In addition to the terror from the cancer diagnosis, I work with the constant fear of doctors finding other problems.

I am involved in several Facebook groups which can be a wonderful asset, but the downside of this is you don’t see many of these people face to face, and you don't really know who you are speaking with. I have had more than one occasion where instead of hearing back from a comment or post in a positive way, I feel attacked or shamed or misinterpreted. It's a slippery slope of deciding to be your best self and lay there virtually naked, baring your emotional soul only to get smacked around because someone doesn't think what you say has merit, is correct or is misunderstood.		 

In these instances, I choose to be selective. I left one group entirely because the people within it were making me feel awful and filling me with anxiety. In another group, which I love, I make sure that I either refrain from things that get too deep or remind readers that my thoughts are just that: mine. I have a right to my own perception.

What I needed to understand is that once I put it out into a forum, I leave it open to any interpretation and response that anyone deems is rational and relevant. Most times I will leave the deeper internal issues for a skilled therapist or my own journaling.

The key is to remember that I can only control my actions, I can't control other’s reactions, so I need to be careful who I lay it all “out on the line” for.

When you put your feelings out there in cancer support groups — be it in-person or virtual — you’re opening your ideas up to others’ interpretation, and some might not like what you have to say.

My Experiences With My Cancer Support Systems Were Unfortunate

I’m at a conflict with how I would categorize myself. I’m a four-time cancer survivor who also survived an abusive marriage and care for a son who is disabled. I’ve met each challenge with determination and strength to meet goals to persevere, achieve and forge ahead.

I’m 49, and my reactions have now grounded themselves in anxiety, fear of abandonment and rejection, neediness and constant worry. What happened to that strong girl that everyone thought was the strongest person they knew? Did I become weak?

I’m no doctor, but I’ve been through enough medical situations to put on a lab coat if I needed to. I feel very secure in how I speak and my decision making with my doctors. In my work life, I am resolute and confident, yet when it comes to 

, I find myself feeling small, insignificant, scared and like a beggar chasing after others even if I realize I am being treated unfairly or even abusively? Why is this happening to me?

Individuals with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) have suffered from long-term trauma (hello cancer survivors!) but complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD) is associated with the disorder when that trauma causes difficulties regulating emotions or feeling angry and distrustful.

Reading that definition makes me feel less like a weakling. I chase others when they do something wrong to me and then shut me out. I constantly attempt to fix things, make others happy, give to a fault and smile through the pain because I am so afraid of loss and get so stuck in that mental ditch.

I’m not suggesting all survivors suffer this way, but the trauma of cancer can affect the brain and relationships with others, potentially through CPTSD.

Talking to others can help these feelings, though I’ve found that sometimes even family members may make me feel guilty or 

 or “come on you have gone through cancer, why can’t you pull yourself together now?” This type of communication is negative and detrimental.

For me, finding a safe person to talk to has been challenging. I have gone through numerous therapists and finally found a former client who is a life coach who allows me to purge my thoughts and doesn’t judge me. I’m not used to kindness. I think I don’t deserve it at times. When someone fawns over me I tend to run from it. When someone is cruel to me, I tend to run towards it. I know this.

Too often when I suffer mentally, I suffer in silence. If I've fought hard enough to live, I must fight harder to learn that I deserve love, joy and appreciation from others as well as myself.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to 

After surviving cancer, I’ve developed complex post-traumatic stress disorder, which comes with feelings of insecurity and anger.

Jessica Bolz

Don't Tell Me I'm Not a Cancer Survivor!

Does My Cancer Give Me a Pass at Patience?

My Experiences With My Cancer Support Systems Were Unfortunate

Has Cancer Survivorship Made Me Weak?

Latest News