I was able to go back to work today! The surgeon gave me the all clear yesterday. The final report was in from my procedures and my lymph nodes officially clear. I thought they were at the surgery, but she said until the official report comes out you never know. She removed 2 nodes instead of 1 because they were small and right next to one another.
The lab report also indicated that they found some more cancer, a non-invasive type. The surgeon said she got it all, the original cancer that sent me to surgery and the new one they found. There was no need for any more surgery and for that I am grateful!
Next week I have two oncology appointments. My primary care encouraged me to go for a second opinion to an oncologist who specializes in the invasive Her2/positives cancer that I have. I don't expect her to say anything different than what the other oncologist has recommended, but you never know. I have researched this type of cancer for hours and the treatment seems to be pretty standard. But I am extremely curious as to what the specialist's opinion will be. And no matter which oncologist I choose, I know chemo is right around the corner for me.
I am gearing up and trying to get ready for chemotherapy. I am not sure how one goes about that however. I read the little booklet from the oncology office called Chemotherapy 101. I read a book called UPLIFT that had all positive vignettes from breast cancer survivors with a whole chapter devoted to chemo. I have scoured the Internet reading all the things that I did and didn't want to know about chemotherapy. I have friends and relatives that have gone through it and shared their their experiences with me.
But I am scared shitless. Who wouldn't be?
Somehow getting ready for chemo reminds me of all the reading and preparation I did before the children were born. I would lay in bed with my baby books and read all about labor and delivery and just try to figure out how it would be for me. How much pain would there be? Could I handle it? What if I couldn't? What if I just wanted to give up in the middle of it all? I think about all the support that is all around you at the time of childbirth, but ultimately you are the one having to do it alone.
In my mind I am equating giving birth to a baby to having chemotherapy. It really doesn't seem to go together, but it does in my mind. All of this preparation and trying to imagine accomplishing something that seems too intense and impossible at times for the sake of something grander.
There will be no beautiful baby at the end of the chemo to cuddle with and make all the suffering be worthwhile, but instead I like to think of it as if I will be giving birth to myself.
It will be a new me, a chance to start over with a healthy body and a new perspective on life.
Thinking of this whole cancer journey as a re-birth is what will keep me going and helping me to prepare for all the uncertainly before me.
The lab report also indicated that they found some more cancer, a non-invasive type. The surgeon said she got it all, the original cancer that sent me to surgery and the new one they found. There was no need for any more surgery and for that I am grateful!
Next week I have two oncology appointments. My primary care encouraged me to go for a second opinion to an oncologist who specializes in the invasive Her2/positives cancer that I have. I don't expect her to say anything different than what the other oncologist has recommended, but you never know. I have researched this type of cancer for hours and the treatment seems to be pretty standard. But I am extremely curious as to what the specialist's opinion will be. And no matter which oncologist I choose, I know chemo is right around the corner for me.
I am gearing up and trying to get ready for chemotherapy. I am not sure how one goes about that however. I read the little booklet from the oncology office called Chemotherapy 101. I read a book called UPLIFT that had all positive vignettes from breast cancer survivors with a whole chapter devoted to chemo. I have scoured the Internet reading all the things that I did and didn't want to know about chemotherapy. I have friends and relatives that have gone through it and shared their their experiences with me.
But I am scared shitless. Who wouldn't be?
Somehow getting ready for chemo reminds me of all the reading and preparation I did before the children were born. I would lay in bed with my baby books and read all about labor and delivery and just try to figure out how it would be for me. How much pain would there be? Could I handle it? What if I couldn't? What if I just wanted to give up in the middle of it all? I think about all the support that is all around you at the time of childbirth, but ultimately you are the one having to do it alone.
In my mind I am equating giving birth to a baby to having chemotherapy. It really doesn't seem to go together, but it does in my mind. All of this preparation and trying to imagine accomplishing something that seems too intense and impossible at times for the sake of something grander.
There will be no beautiful baby at the end of the chemo to cuddle with and make all the suffering be worthwhile, but instead I like to think of it as if I will be giving birth to myself.
It will be a new me, a chance to start over with a healthy body and a new perspective on life.
Thinking of this whole cancer journey as a re-birth is what will keep me going and helping me to prepare for all the uncertainly before me.
5 comments:
You are wise to get a second opinion -- even if it's the exact same as the first. You'll just feel better about it.
And I think you are also very wise about thinking of this as a re-birth. How healthy that is! A good friend is going through the same thing you are (she just had her first infusion this week)-- I told her about your sitting down to tea with your cancer and negotiating -- which made her laugh. At the oncology center here, they offer full services to cancer patients: wigs, massage, acupuncture, yoga, make-up, scarves... It's a wonderful center full of positive and caring people. Blessings, K
Yes, I agree. This WILL be a new you, starting life after cancer. A LONG life after cancer. I don't blame you a bit for being scared. I would be too. But you know you can do this. You know you will be better off after than before. I pray that it will be easy on you, that does happen, you know. Hugs, friend. Things really are looking up!
Things are looking up! Everything you've said points to the positive. The chemo won't be fun, but it's a finite treatment, and the end results will be worth the process.
Back to work already? Yesterday, on our way home, I pictured you in bed with a novel, being waited on hand and foot. From what I hear from my sister-in-law and several friends, chemo is no picnic. But how lucky we all are to live in the first half of the 21st century when so much more is known with every passing year. Before you know it, your life will be back to normal.
Back to work is probably a good thing. It lets you know you are still a person and not just an illness.
Chemo will be very draining after a while. Make sure that you pace yourself and get enough rest. Ask for more help than you usually do; people will be more than happy to help.
They know a great deal more about treating this than they did even ten years ago. You will get to be all better.
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