I began blogging almost immediately after my diagnosis. My posts have been real, raw and honest. It's my therapy. So today, I'm being honest yet again, just when everyone thinks I should be happy and blessed that I'm alive, I'm actually sad.
I survived crappy cancer. I'M A SURVIVOR! And yet the lingering affects has me depressed much of the time. I find that I'm sad, tired and just want to be in bed, with a good book perhaps, and ignore the rest of the world. Tears seem to swim in my eyes unbidden, with a lump in my throat that I have to fight down to swallow. DO NOT CRY! I hate to cry.
I'm supposed to be happy and grateful, to embrace my
second chance at life. Many survivors can point to the positive
changes in their lives, with a markedly different outlook since starting down that scary black hole
called crappy cancer.
There are many challenges that cancer survivors face, including risk of recurrence,
increased risk of second primary cancer, reduced quality of life,
economic burden and treatment side effects. But also on the list include emotional distress, depression, anxiety, uncertainty, altered body
image, and survivor’s guilt.
I've had depressive tendencies my whole life — being on antidepressants since in my 30's. Winters and short
days always affect me. (SAD) I try to get outside
as much as possible, because Texas doesn't usually have harsh winters where I live, but it's the lack of sunlight and daytime hours that affect me. I joke that I'm like a chicken, up when the sun comes up, but when it goes down, I'm ready to roost. . . . . even if it's only 6:00!
When a bankruptcy forced me out of an almost 18 year job that I loved, it threw me into depression for months. The loss of income and financial strain has been extremely stressful on me. Then, my fibromyalgia flared up with the stress and hasn't seemed to subside, so I'm ALWAYS in pain. I just hide it well. Then, my mother was faced with her second bout of crappy cancer and life happened to me with crappy breast cancer. The past three years have been HARD!
But
those bouts did not compare with the dark curtain that fell over my soul
and changed my personality within this past year. I'm no longer confident in my self and hate to be around a lot of people. I miss church, but I fight a panic attack the whole time I'm there! So I study the Bible a lot at home.
Fatigue is my major complaint. It drowns out any desire to
move out of my recliner. All my energy has completely vanished. Brain Fog comes with fibromyalgia, but now it's compounded with my inability to concentrate. I can't find my words. Tired,
brain-addled, sad, I feel worthless and guilty most of the time. I have no right to feel like this. . . . . I have a good life, wonderful marriage to a great guy. . . . . . But there are women dying of this crappy cancer and I have survived. How do I pull back this dark curtain of despair and get to a happy place? How can I make this little black cloud over my heard go away?
I pray about it a lot. I do my best to find joy in the tiny things in my day. I enjoy my grand kids more than anything and they make me forget about the black cloud and bring me joy. And yes, I 'm on meds to help me fight this feeling. I'm trying, I really am.
Pinktober
It's October. Everything turns pink with a little pink ribbon on the package. . . . . clothes, socks, toilet paper and even soup cans! Consumers are led to believe that by buying these products they are
doing something good for breast cancer research. Not so. Much of the
time the ribbon is there just to raise awareness of breast cancer, as if
you did not already know that it exists. Companies use our crappy cancer as a way to make money. Most cancer patients are offended by it.
Some cancer patients wear the pink ribbon proudly, giving thanks for both the symbol and its attendant charity-dollars to fund a cure. Others hate it with a passion. Not all the hype and commercialism is bad. Between 1991 and 1996, federal funding for breast cancer research increased nearly fourfold to over $550 million. And according to the American Cancer Society, the percentage of women getting annual mammograms and clinical breast exams has more than doubled over the last decade. That's a good thing!
44,000 women a year die from breast cancer. A woman could develop a very early stage cancer, have it treated, and months later be diagnosed with stage four. There's a woman in one of my support groups who had stage zero cancer, meaning it barely registered on the ole cancer-meter, but it came back months later as stage 4. My cancer was caught early as stage 1 and didn't require Chemo or radiation. I'm blessed enough to just be given pills (with their own set of side affects) that is supposed to help prevent a recurrence. BUT crappy cancer cells are devilish little things, you know. I never get cocky enough to think I'm never going to get it again. Breast cancer has a history of coming back in the lungs, bones, colon or brain with the intent to kill.
So, (I may have expressed this before) it's hard not to think about it every day. There seems to be a little black cloud hanging over me to remind me that I had it, along with the side affects and taking the stupid pills every day, that it's almost impossible not to think about it coming back at some point. The risk of recurrence for women with hormone positive breast cancer (the most common subtype representing around two-thirds of all breast cancer diagnoses- and mine was hormone+) persists after the five-year mark up to 25 years. I'll take the meds for 8 years according to my team of doctors, but there's still that 25 year mark of a black cloud over my head.
Pinktober doesn't make me nauseous or angry like it does most cancer patients. I encourage everyone to use this as a time to schedule their mammogram and I don't get upset when someone buys me a pink ribbon gift. I like them and I like pink. It's a month long parade of pink. . . . . and just know that your purchase most likely doesn't fund a cure. But please consider giving directly to a breast cancer organization whose work you believe is most essential to addressing the breast cancer epidemic.
Some cancer patients wear the pink ribbon proudly, giving thanks for both the symbol and its attendant charity-dollars to fund a cure. Others hate it with a passion. Not all the hype and commercialism is bad. Between 1991 and 1996, federal funding for breast cancer research increased nearly fourfold to over $550 million. And according to the American Cancer Society, the percentage of women getting annual mammograms and clinical breast exams has more than doubled over the last decade. That's a good thing!
44,000 women a year die from breast cancer. A woman could develop a very early stage cancer, have it treated, and months later be diagnosed with stage four. There's a woman in one of my support groups who had stage zero cancer, meaning it barely registered on the ole cancer-meter, but it came back months later as stage 4. My cancer was caught early as stage 1 and didn't require Chemo or radiation. I'm blessed enough to just be given pills (with their own set of side affects) that is supposed to help prevent a recurrence. BUT crappy cancer cells are devilish little things, you know. I never get cocky enough to think I'm never going to get it again. Breast cancer has a history of coming back in the lungs, bones, colon or brain with the intent to kill.
So, (I may have expressed this before) it's hard not to think about it every day. There seems to be a little black cloud hanging over me to remind me that I had it, along with the side affects and taking the stupid pills every day, that it's almost impossible not to think about it coming back at some point. The risk of recurrence for women with hormone positive breast cancer (the most common subtype representing around two-thirds of all breast cancer diagnoses- and mine was hormone+) persists after the five-year mark up to 25 years. I'll take the meds for 8 years according to my team of doctors, but there's still that 25 year mark of a black cloud over my head.
Pinktober doesn't make me nauseous or angry like it does most cancer patients. I encourage everyone to use this as a time to schedule their mammogram and I don't get upset when someone buys me a pink ribbon gift. I like them and I like pink. It's a month long parade of pink. . . . . and just know that your purchase most likely doesn't fund a cure. But please consider giving directly to a breast cancer organization whose work you believe is most essential to addressing the breast cancer epidemic.
Cancerversary
Well, it's been a year already. I can hardly believe it. I'm still healing on the inside and can actually feel my nerves regenerating. My muscles in my chest are pretty useless and get really sore when I try to do anything requiring them to work. Under arms are still numb and tender as is my chest. There are days that I don't notice or think about it much, and other days when it's so tender that it's all I think about.
The surgery was the easy part. This past year recovering was the hard part. I had very few friends who were helpful during that time. I expected them to visit and surround me with love, meals, assist with housecleaning, etc. Boy, was I wrong! It's been very hurtful and disappointing not to have all that support from those I thought were my friends. That was difficult to deal with and added to my depression. My wonderful husband was my rock and still is. He does so much for me to prevent me from getting too sore. We have pretty much gone through this crappy cancer journey alone, he and I.
He goes with me every 3 months to see the surgeon and the Oncologist. Those first 9 months were the roughest with the meds side affects. The mood swings would hit me like a brick with no warning or reason. Insomnia. Hot flashes. Hair loss, nail loss, flaky skin, fatigue, loss of appetite, HIGH anxiety. . . . .just to name a few. I never felt good.
I've now started a new medicine that I've been on for about a month and it seems much better so far. I've also been given something for the anxiety which is helping me sleep better. I still have the hot flashes, VERY INTENSE hot flashes, but the other symptoms are fading into the background. I'm supposed to take it for 8 long years to lower my chances and prevent the cancer from coming back. So, I'm hoping I can deal with what it does to me for that long.
Crappy cancer has taken so much from me. I'm just trying to find my "new normal" and adjust to life as I now know it. I rarely feel good or have much energy, but I do try to push myself to stay active as much as possible. I'm still standing. I'm alive and cancer free. I'm blessed and realize the little things in life are important.
