A Year Later

I've been meaning to do a blog update for my family with details such as recent doctor visits for at least 6 months, but it's just the LAST thing I want to talk about so I never get to it. I'm having a moment of strength so I'll go for it and update everyone who's curious but too polite to ask how things are really going. And P.S., thanks to everyone for being too polite.

Since treatment ended I'm supposed to have check-ups with my medical oncologist every three months and every 6 months with the surgeon and radiation oncologist. Lucky me it's been every four months with the medical oncologist due to summer schedules and them meeting my request to wait until the New Year for insurance reasons. The vampires at the medical oncologist take blood each visit and the doctor looks for any changes that could be indicative of things not functioning the same (kidneys, liver, etc). He also pokes around in my abdomen and listens to my heart and lungs. All things are well. The radiation oncologist and the surgeon do physical exams of my breasts and armpits where the lymph nodes drain the breasts. All things are well. Guidelines for mammograms are changing and range from every 6 months to a year. I understand the change from every 6 months to a year is driven by too many false positives and the associated stress. My doctor's are all on board with the plan to have annual 3D mammograms which are supposed to be better for evaluating dense breast tissue. The doctor's are also supportive of annual MRI's as well which can be helpful and there is no added radiation, but no one is forcing me to go this route and I likely will not because of my high-deductible health care plan. Besides, deep down I'm less worried about more breast lumps. I'm more worried about metatasic cancers elsewhere and MRI's of my breasts aren't going to help with that. The last component of my post surgury/chemo/radiation treatment is the hormone blocker Tamoxifen that I'm supposed to take for at least 5 years. After long agonizing about taking this daily pill I've been pleasantly surprised that I haven't really experienced any of the side effects that I was so worried about. As things progress my doctors visits will change to every 6 months, then every year, etc. Medically speaking all is well.

I suppose an update on the hair is in order too just because it is such a topic of converstaion. My hair is coming in well, is getting thicker, is curly (and no, it wasn't curly before) and every month that goes by I'm starting to have a style that looks more intentional. Honestly I like the short hair and I think it works for me. I'll probably keep it somewhere between pixie and a bob. The curls are still there but with every trim they seem to be less curly and I do believe it will progressively start to relax. While I'm flattered by compliments I just can't wait until it isn't a topic of converstaion. Partly because too often the conversation evolves into something that I'm uncomfortable with. The worst was on two separate occasions where an innocent conversation ended with, "my aunt's hair came in curly after chemo, but I don't know if it would have stayed that way because she only lived a couple years after that." A couple weeks after I've recovered from such conversations I can forgive, but not forget, knowing that those same people were hurt by cancer and experienced loss and needed to share their story. Let me just say that cancer-survivors are more aware of their mortality than anyone and hearing about the death of loved ones is one of the least helpful things to hear during the recovery process.

The emotional side of recovery is still evolving and I struggle at times with anxiety. I can't go a day without thinking cancer related thoughts morning, noon and night. The worst of it comes and goes. The last big event happened at the doctor's office during my check-up with the medical and radiation oncologist in September. I went to the appointment thinking I was fine...then after 15 minutes of sitting in the waiting room waiting for the lab to work up my blood I could start to feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I was soon cursing at poor undeserving nurses out of frustration that things were taking too long. By the time I got to the doctor's office I was sobbing uncontrollably. I literally couldn't stop it. So needless to say after I survive the doctor's visits the last thing I want to do is come home and talk about it. I'm sorry especially to my family for the lack of updates, but it's just not there yet. I'll play the doctor card and say "no news is good news."

That day my radiation oncologist (who is an angel) took over an hour to do her check-up but also talk with me about my emotional state. I don't often have anxiety attacks and it's possible the waves of anxiety are fueled by the fact that I can't and don't talk about my cancer. Not ever and not to anyone. My radiation oncologist suggested I talk to the hospitals' social worker so I did. Twice. I hated it and found it hard to focus because my brain was too busy trying to come up with excuses for why I had to leave early or why I couldn't come again next week. The social worker recommended that I meet with a therapist outside of the hospital since I have such anxiety with being at the Cancer Care Center. I haven't done this yet. I just don't know what there is to say?! What I want someone to tell me is that the treatment worked and this won't happen again but no one can tell me that. I think that time is the only thing that is going to heal anything.

The one good thing that came out of the visits with the social worker was the breathing exercises. I realized that I often go through the day holding my breath and taking the time to just sit back and breathe does help with the anxiety. Instead of making an appointment with an outside therapist I joined a yoga studio in October. I can't say enough good things about the yoga. Taking 60-90 minutes to focus on breathing and stretching in a blissful studio overlooking the Boise River is just heaven. I leave there feeling better emotionally and physically. It's also done wonders for my tight muscles and low back where I had weaknesses that I didn't even realize until yoga. My visits to the yoga studio are like little escapes from cancer too because no one that I've met at the yoga studio knows me as a cancer survivor. When they ask me "how are you?" I know that they are simply asking me how my day is going instead of my usual paranoia where I think people are asking me "how is the cancer going?"

I know survivors who celebrate their cancer-free anniversaries or participate in things like Races for the Cure. They seem happy and grateful and are not afraid to say that their early diagnosis and treatments like chemo and Tamoxifen will prevent the disease from reoccuring. I love to see their smiles and they inspire me. I just wish I could figure out how to get to that side of optimism. Instead I have a box of chemo hats and other cancer-related recovery items hidden in a box in my closet for fear that tossing them will somehow jinx me. According to my doctor the greatest chance of a reoccurence is within the first 5 years. I'm doing everything that I can to better those odds and hope that as each year passes so will the anxiety. Indeed good things have come from my diagnosis. I feel like I'm living a more meaningful life and care less about material things. I had a wonderful year of adventures with my family and we're planning a trip to Hawaii hopefully this spring. I'm truly grateful for life and the fact that I am blessed with a family that I love beyond words, but that same gratefulness is the very thing that makes me terrified that it could be ripped away from me. If I didn't have it so good I woudn't be so afraid of losing it.