Life after crappy breast cancer means returning to some familiar things and also making some new choices. The song says "It ain't over 'til it's over," but when you've had crappy breast cancer, you discover that it's not even over when it's over!
After a marathon of the crappy cancer diagnosis
and treatment that seem to go on forever, one can hardly wait
to get back to a normal life again. There is no normal! I'm trying to find my new normal. My body has been through an enormous assault. I'm still recovering. I
can feel my nerves actually regenerating. . . . . a not too pleasant
feeling. And other places that will forever remain numb.
I have embarked on another leg of the trip. This one is all about
adjusting to life as a breast cancer survivor. In many ways, it's a lot like the life I had before, but in other ways, it's very
different.
My relationships with my family, spouse and friends. . . . . to my eating habits and (EEK) exercise have changed my life in ways that I hope and pray will last well after treatment ends. Treatment has been tough. I hate the side affects of these crappy cancer meds. How do I fight this lingering fatigue? What should I eat or NOT eat to help prevent a crappy cancer recurrence?
The emotional ups and downs are frustrating; with most of it due to the crappy cancer therapy. There are just so many things going on that it's hard to pin down what I hate the worst. Fatigue has got to be up there at the top though. Bone weary fatigue is no joke! NO ENERGY at all is making me feel much older than I am.
My sight has been affected. My memory and cognition have suffered. I don't sleep well. I hurt all the time. It's not just soreness; it's a deep down, my bones feel bruised, hurting. Just another not so pleasant side affect. And the hot flashes!!!! Oh Em GEE!!! These are so INTENSE!! Much more so than when I went through menopause!
I want my life back. I want my body, mind and energy back. Am I gambling with my life if I quit therapy? Studies suggest that I am. I'm on my second one and it's about as bad as the first one. I'm supposed to take this crappy cancer therapy for 8 years. EIGHT YEARS!!!! It feels like an endless process. However, studies show a great link between estrogen positive cancers coming back, sometimes decades later. Breast cancer is a smoldering, sneaky, insidious disease that is never truly over. So yes, I will most likely continue the treatment for the recommended time and suffer through it.
Everybody thinks I'm through. Done. What's the Big Deal anyway? They just don't get it. It Ain't Over! I'm still dealing with recovery. I'm still dealing with the therapy to prevent a recurrence. I'm not springing back to my old self. She's gone. She basically died the day I got the crappy cancer diagnosis. I'm having to reinvent myself. I'm having to rest more often. I have to make notes so I don't forget things. I'm having to carry around a fan and even go outside in 30 degree weather just so i can BREATHE! (you just have no idea how intense these dang hot flashes are!)
It Just Ain't Over.
SAD
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.
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.
Bone Weary Fatigue
By far, the biggest physical challenge I've faced after cancer, is that of chronic
fatigue. Fatigue doesn't fully describe the tiredness I feel constantly. . . . . it complicates my
sleeping pattern, affects my mood, weight, and more. Even after fighting crappy cancer, the familiar side effect of fatigue hangs on, and in full force.
After the pain from surgery and recovery had finally subsided, I realized that I had non-stop low-grade aching and burning throughout my body that I never felt before crappy cancer, and that it never really went away. As a Fibromyalgia sufferer, I am familiar with pain and fatigue, but this is by far different and somewhat worse. My body has been put through a lot and still suffers with the side affects of the crappy cancer meds. No hormones (I'm on hormone blockers) creates it's own set of problems. After all, our bodies were designed by God to be a perfectly and fine tuned instrument, with various organs secreting hormones for specific purposes. I HAVE NONE!
My body was ripped apart and then sewn back together. My body took a beating fighting crappy cancer, and there’s still a tremendous amount of healing and rebuilding that needs to be done, even after 10 months, and all of that requires a lot more rest.
I went from being just fine on 7-8 hours of sleep per night before cancer, to needing at least 9-10 hours after. AND often times, an afternoon nap. Anything less, and I struggle badly throughout the day to move and stay awake. My stamina plummets, and I have to carefully balance the amount of physical activity in a given day, or else I'll simply run out of gas. I never feel like I have anything more than a half tank of gas for the whole day, no matter how well rested I might be. Plus my body feels like it has aged considerably!
This fatigue isn’t an easy thing to manage while trying to live the best life that I can after crappy cancer, while keeping up with my busy life, grand-kids, and part time jobs. Everybody tells me I look great, but I feel this low-grade aching and burning in every single muscle in my body down to my bones, and my continual struggle for energy only makes me even more tired!
Progress, if you could call it that, is slow. It seems like I am going nowhere, but I'm happy for whatever incremental gains in strength and stamina that I can muster up. I find myself being proud when anything as simple as laundry is accomplished!
I'm tired just writing this. I think I'll go sit in the swing and try to stay awake.
After the pain from surgery and recovery had finally subsided, I realized that I had non-stop low-grade aching and burning throughout my body that I never felt before crappy cancer, and that it never really went away. As a Fibromyalgia sufferer, I am familiar with pain and fatigue, but this is by far different and somewhat worse. My body has been put through a lot and still suffers with the side affects of the crappy cancer meds. No hormones (I'm on hormone blockers) creates it's own set of problems. After all, our bodies were designed by God to be a perfectly and fine tuned instrument, with various organs secreting hormones for specific purposes. I HAVE NONE!
My body was ripped apart and then sewn back together. My body took a beating fighting crappy cancer, and there’s still a tremendous amount of healing and rebuilding that needs to be done, even after 10 months, and all of that requires a lot more rest.
I went from being just fine on 7-8 hours of sleep per night before cancer, to needing at least 9-10 hours after. AND often times, an afternoon nap. Anything less, and I struggle badly throughout the day to move and stay awake. My stamina plummets, and I have to carefully balance the amount of physical activity in a given day, or else I'll simply run out of gas. I never feel like I have anything more than a half tank of gas for the whole day, no matter how well rested I might be. Plus my body feels like it has aged considerably!
This fatigue isn’t an easy thing to manage while trying to live the best life that I can after crappy cancer, while keeping up with my busy life, grand-kids, and part time jobs. Everybody tells me I look great, but I feel this low-grade aching and burning in every single muscle in my body down to my bones, and my continual struggle for energy only makes me even more tired!
Progress, if you could call it that, is slow. It seems like I am going nowhere, but I'm happy for whatever incremental gains in strength and stamina that I can muster up. I find myself being proud when anything as simple as laundry is accomplished!
I'm tired just writing this. I think I'll go sit in the swing and try to stay awake.
It's just a little grey hair!
I'm knocking on the back door of 60. I don't love my body. I don't miss my boobs either but my buddha belly looks bigger without them. There's wrinkles, fat, and grey hairs. I have a LOT more grey hairs that I haven't decided to color/cover up yet. I earned every one of them!
There's a not so pretty 'pink' side to crappy cancer. It damages you, hurts you, takes from you, disfigures you. Crappy cancer trying to take my femininity, my confidence, my happiness and my hope. I struggle with them all.
My
choice to not have reconstruction was my own after much research. It is a very personal and
individual choice. I do not regret my choice at all but that doesn't
mean that it's been an easy adjustment to my self image physically or emotionally. I still get weird stares from time to time. I even had a stranger congratulate me on my pregnancy! (On the plus side, I must look young enough to even be pregnant!)
I've been spending some
time trying to find my "new normal" in the new me. I've
changed; my likes, my dislikes, my passions, my views, my heart. It irritates me when people tell me I've changed. Of course I have, DUH! I had CRAPPY CANCER!!!!
When
I was diagnosed and going through surgery and recovery, I was needing encouragement from friends. What I needed was positive attention, visits, calls, and caring friendship at the time. I didn't get it from those I needed to get it from. I'm still working on forgiving them. My family, especially my husband of almost 39 years, were the most attentive. He sees my struggles every day, while everyone else has moved on. Is breast cancer so rampant that it's become "not important enough" or is it simply that people don't know what to say or do? It was as though I was contagious or something. I
needed messages of caring, cards in the mail (do people not do this anymore?) hearing
that I was brave, loved and prayed for - especially when most days I
felt the farthest thing from strong and suffocated from fear.
Now that the surgery is over, it's like sneaking out a side entrance, closing the door and no one
follows. It's
the same as when a loved one dies and everyone is there to rally
around you, but the hard part comes when the funeral is over, time
passes and things go 'back to normal' and the quiet settles in. You
see, just because the surgery is over, I'm still healing. I'm taking treatments that have tremendous side affects that I hate. I struggle with them and waver if I want to continue them for 5 years or not. My struggle hasn't ended.
The side effects are very real.
1.
TIRED! The overwhelming, bone weary, fatigue is awful. Nothing helps this and there are days (most days) when I have to really push myself to get anything done. On the
outside, my body may start to look more normal, but on the inside it is
still working overtime on the cellular level to repair the damage. It's only been10 months and I'm still healing physically. (Emotionally. . . . . it's up and down) By noon I feel like I've run a
marathon and cannot hold my eyes open. I take 2 hour mid day naps, wake
up defeated because I'm still tired and I wasted the day. I feel like life is passing me by and I'm not participating. I hate to even leave my house. Fatigue
isn't the only physical side effect.
2. CURVY! I
am accepting my new body image. Overall, I don't miss my boobs. I don't like the way my clothes fit weird, but I don't miss that bra! My ribs stick out below my concave chest, and my stomach has 'caught' all the extra fat that my boobs used to catch. I can't see my feet! I don't look good naked anymore!
At least I've gotten to the place where I see the scars as a victory and not a loss. I've even come to a point in my recovery where I'm falling in love with my scars and debating on NOT getting the chest tattoo after all. I just know that making an emotional decision about that isn't best for me now.
2.
PTSD after cancer IS real! I live in constant fear of "when will it
come back?" Not working full time allows no more distractions and busy work to keep my thoughts from wondering to dark places. Where will it come back? How will I know, and will I catch it in time? What are my passions? What does God want me doing with my
time and how does He need me to use this experience? Am I doing too much
too soon? Moving too fast? Too slow?
I have anxiety that is so foreign to me. I have spoken in front of large groups as a leader, and led, groups in my "other life." But, I come close to a panic attack just sitting in church with a few hundred folks. I have to stare down at my Bible and block out the crowd, all while holding on to my husband to stay calm. Just the thought of being around a crowd of people scares me now. I have huge mood swings that come out of nowhere. They hit me like a hammer to the head and I can't explain what's wrong. NO hormones is wreaking havoc in my body. God put those various hormones in our organs for a reason, and the treatment I'm on is blocking them all. WHEW! There's no explaining the awful side affects of no hormones in my body.
3. HEALTH. . . . . Am
I eating right? No. I crave sweets constantly and give in to that craving more than I'd like. Cancer loves sugar. Will that cause the cancer to
come back? Am I doing enough to prevent it? Is this pain normal or has
'it' returned? Was that lump there before or is that cording from the surgery? I feel my chest so much, that I don't even realize I'm doing it. I want to know every inch of my chest to be able to find any change as soon as it appears. It's sensitive to the touch and numb in most places at the same time. Lack of hormones prevents good sleep. Which contributes to the fatigue. I should be exercising for my health, but every bone in my body hurts from lack of hormones. It's a never ending vicious cycle.
4. DOCTORS! The
on-going. . . . . Yes, there are still appointments, follow up, blood work, tests
etc. I'm sick of them already. I'm on my own now because everyone assumes I'm OK. Just sitting in the waiting room at the cancer center is
emotional. It's surreal! I had crappy cancer. My heart begins to beat fast just pulling into the parking lot. I do NOT want to be here!! I'm sick of taking my top off so doctors can feel my chest. I'm tired of the blood draws. I don't like their nonchalant attitude which makes me feel unimportant.
5. PAIN! . . . . Fibromyalgia (diagnosed 4 years ago,) comes with it's own set of physical problems, exasperated by the crappy cancer surgery, therapy and drugs. I never have a day without pain, which causes moodiness. Yet another never ending cycle. I can no longer commit to something and
then have to stop or cancel because I wasn't ready or just flat couldn't do it. Either I can't move that day physically, or my emotions are a wreck with anxiety. But the fear of 'wasting' time is also overwhelming. I hate all these drugs stacked up on my kitchen and bedroom window seal.
6. LOVE! And
then there's my marriage.... I have discovered a closeness, trust and
friendship in my husband after 38+ years of marriage. I pray that my children are able to know this type of love with their husbands. And I pray they both realize and know how much they are
loved by this man. He is truly a unique person full of love over flowing for his family. I never could have gone through this crappy cancer journey without him.
Crappy Cancer Rears It's Ugly Self Again
Having breast cancer can lead to emotional distress and thousands of insecurities. When I learned that I had breast cancer, I felt like a brick house fell on top of me. Then I was numb. Then I was scared. Then I was in a hurry. (Take it out!!!!) There were a plethora of emotions I went through in those first few months. . . . . still am. It isn't unusual to suffer from a blow to our self esteem with a cancer diagnosis. Crappy cancer causes many physical issues as well as having an impact on our soul.
From the moment that you hear the words “breast cancer,” your mind goes to the worst possible conclusion. Breast cancer is a harsh reality of our immortality; it leaves our bodies scarred no matter what treatment we might need, or choose to have. The emotions still hit me like hammer upside the head when I least expect them, and for no reason at all it seems. These insecurities leave me feeling overwhelmed and alone. I still have insecurities about my mastectomy scars and how I look. (My chest is still tender, so there's a constant reminder.)
I'm still getting used to my new body . . . . . The "new me." I'm not so sure how long that will take. Self-healing is a process to my well-being . . . . .and will most likely take the rest of my life. Why the rest of my life? Because even when crappy cancer is gone from my body, I am affected and changed forever. The person I once was has a new outlook, and a new physical appearance.
I had planned on a tattoo to cover the scars, but those dollars were spent on more important things. Now, I find myself having second thoughts. There are days when I really want to get it done NOW. . . . . and days when I want to embrace my scars. With the emotional anxiety I'm still going through 8 months post BMX, I'm just giving myself time.
And in the process of all this anxiety and insecurity, crappy cancer rears it's ugly self again in the form of skin cancer on my nose. I had to get out in public with stitches on my nose! It was so hard. With the stitches out, I'm able to mostly hide the still healing sore with makeup. My body has failed me and I'm not liking it one little bit.
I've changed. I'm not the confident, strong extrovert I used to be. Crappy cancer changed me.
From the moment that you hear the words “breast cancer,” your mind goes to the worst possible conclusion. Breast cancer is a harsh reality of our immortality; it leaves our bodies scarred no matter what treatment we might need, or choose to have. The emotions still hit me like hammer upside the head when I least expect them, and for no reason at all it seems. These insecurities leave me feeling overwhelmed and alone. I still have insecurities about my mastectomy scars and how I look. (My chest is still tender, so there's a constant reminder.)
I'm still getting used to my new body . . . . . The "new me." I'm not so sure how long that will take. Self-healing is a process to my well-being . . . . .and will most likely take the rest of my life. Why the rest of my life? Because even when crappy cancer is gone from my body, I am affected and changed forever. The person I once was has a new outlook, and a new physical appearance.
I had planned on a tattoo to cover the scars, but those dollars were spent on more important things. Now, I find myself having second thoughts. There are days when I really want to get it done NOW. . . . . and days when I want to embrace my scars. With the emotional anxiety I'm still going through 8 months post BMX, I'm just giving myself time.
And in the process of all this anxiety and insecurity, crappy cancer rears it's ugly self again in the form of skin cancer on my nose. I had to get out in public with stitches on my nose! It was so hard. With the stitches out, I'm able to mostly hide the still healing sore with makeup. My body has failed me and I'm not liking it one little bit.
I've changed. I'm not the confident, strong extrovert I used to be. Crappy cancer changed me.
Crappy Fear
Like when standing in line at the grocery store one day, only 5 short months after my cancer fight had begun. I had been feeling good that day, and had finally managed to not allow cancer to take over my every thought, when I heard two people behind me start talking about a friend diagnosed with breast cancer, and how awful that was. My heart sank into my stomach, and I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I raced to my car to calm down, gather my crappy fear and wipe my tears.
Or the time I was just scrolling Facebook when a paralyzing wave of fear swept over me that was so intense. I'm reading on Facebook about a woman who had the SAME cancer as me, same size cm, same everything, and it's now spread to her lungs and bones only 6 short months later! I'm terrified at the prospect of having it come back. It feels like a little black cloud forever over my head reminding me that it lurks there, and could return at any moment.
The doctors say we got it all, (they "practice" medicine after all) and yet I'm on a regimen of meds to keep it from coming back and watched for 5 years, as they prod me with hands, needles, scans and more every 3 months. I didn't so much as bat an eye going into that brutal and highly invasive surgery. I was ready. I was a warrior. They whacked off both my boobs and sent me home in less than 24 hours and I haven't regretted, not one time, choosing to go flat. . . . . . but that hasn't stopped crappy cancer from giving me crappy fear at the most awkward moments; sweeping down upon me without notice. My fears about cancer always manage to find ways to come back and haunt me, and with it, periods of depression that sometimes last for days along with periodic episodes of post traumatic stress that knocks me to the dark side as well.
My friends have told me that they couldn't possibly imagine what I've been through. My husband is the most understanding and supportive of anyone. Nobody berates me or beats me up for being fearful. So, why should I? I've decided to be kind to myself as well and never deny what I feel. I think I've done that throughout the process, which is why I blog. I'm sure it has been "too much information" at times, but it's therapeutic for me. Crappy cancer is such a lonely and isolating experience.