Monthly Archives: March 2024

Fighting the Good Fight Against Myself

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, God, Hope, Overthinking, Positive Attitude

It’s one week until I start chemo. I am, quite frankly, terrified.

I know this a last week of normal-as-I-know-it. I thought being diagnosed and having a mastectomy messed with my normal, but I returned to normalish pretty quickly after getting back to work. Returning to work helped me get back into a familiar routine. The worst of it is trying to quiet my mind about what’s next.

I’ve been trying hard not to try too hard. I’m trying to enjoy day as much as possible, but knowing chemo is right around the corner is really messing with me. I feel like I just got my life back from healing from surgery, and I appreciate each good morning. I wake up every morning and feel pretty good, think of what day it is, and immediately think of how many more days I have until I have strong drugs infused into my body. I woke up crying two days in a row, just because I was overwhelmed within my first few thoughts of the day.

Three weeks ago, I started on two drugs: an injection that’s supposed to suppress my ovary function and a daily aromatase inhibitor pill. The pill lowers estrogen levels, which helps to decrease growth of any breast cancer cells. Since getting the injection and being on the pills, I feel an overall difference in my body, energy, joints, etc. The first week was full of head and body aches. It improved by week 2. It’s not the worst, but it’s not a carefree-breezy-feeling-body anymore.

Last week, my doctor told me to stop the pill while I go through chemo and radiation. I’ve felt great since being off the pill for a week. I think my fear is valid. Not only are chemo and radiation going to have their own set of side effects, but there’s no returning to my current “normal”. After the major treatments are over, I’ll be on pills for a good part of the next decade.

The diagnosis I received in November is supposedly the “good kind” that is highly treatable. After learning of my diagnosis, it was immediately followed up with, “but it’s non-aggressive and treatable”. That made me feel better for a little while, until I experienced how the treatment makes me feel. What they don’t tell you is the drugs alter your everything. Your life flips upside down just as much as someone else’s life. In my case, instead of gradually entering into older age, I’m being forced into menopause (and more) all within a few months. This sounds so much simpler than it actually is.

Sounds. So. Simple.

People often refer to cancer patients as “fighters”. The definition of a fighter is someone who doesn’t easily admit defeat in spite of difficulties or opposition. The truth is, yes, you’re fighting, but you’re not fighting anything or anyone but yourself. You’re relinquishing complete control, and that’s the hardest part of the fight. I’m not in control of any of this. Yes, I’m questioning my treatment options along the way and making a few key decisions. But whichever path I take, I’m releasing control and having to trust outside of my own actions.

If you refuse treatment, you give up control of knowing what’s going on in your body. If you agree to treatment, you’re handing control over to doctors and nurses. Even if you’re somewhere in the middle, in which you agree to some treatment and not others, you’re still left with not really controlling a damn thing. Something could get away from you, or someone could screw up something. You’re constantly fighting you own doubts, worries, fears, etc.

So when you hear someone say, “he or she is a fighter”, it’s not untrue. They’ve become masters at fighting their constant thoughts and emotions. This is where mind over matter comes in. I’ve heard about this, but I see it now. I see how you have to keep your attitude going in a more positive direction to influence your physical well-being.

A mental battle I keep encountering is handling other people’s thoughts and emotions too. Not everyone operates the way I do, and that can frustrate me. I’ve already overanalyzed every possible thing about my treatment, so when someone else does it in front of me, I’m already over it. I don’t want to discount their valid feelings, but I also don’t want to spend more time on something I’ve already conquered in my own mind. I don’t want to be set back.

Something that does keep setting me back emotionally, which I really hate, is that I’m upset that my family is helping me out. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and that they’re there for me. I’m so happy and blessed to have them. But I had a husband once upon a time, and he decided to cheat on me because he’s a selfish narcissist. Now he’s off having fun with his girlfriend, while avoiding serving an important caretaker role in my life. Now, 6 years later, of course I don’t want him to take care of me, but I can’t help but feel like I should be his mess. He should be the one taking me to appointments and worrying about me, but I know if he was here he’d blow the fight right out of me.

So I can’t help but wonder if all of this will have some weird twisty ending in which it was supposed to happen this way. And I continuously go back to God must be mysteriously up to something. I don’t know what it is, and I won’t know what it is for a while. But it’s all for something, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

Stifle Me Not

Jealous

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks

Today I went for a Chemo Teach appointment with a Nurse Practitioner. It was full of information about what I should do and can expect before, during, and after my first chemo session. I knew quite a bit of what she told me. It made me realize that I really have researched a lot and educated myself about as much as I can.

2-week countdown. Ugh.

I really can’t focus well right now. I don’t know if I’m stressed (probably) or if it’s the medication I started two weeks ago that’s messing with me, but I can’t focus. And when I try to accomplish anything, I get sidetracked and overwhelmed.

I’m also terribly jealous of anyone who is planning anything fun right now. The week I start chemo is Spring Break week. My kids will be out of town with their dad on vacation. And some of my co-workers are going on vacation. I’ve been slowly adapting to the reality that this year isn’t going to be the best, but now my love of the sun is being taken away from me. I’m supposed to stay out of the sun, obviously, while I’m in my treatment phase.

I don’t live a crazy party life. I work, eat, sleep, care for my children, go to the grocery store, cook, clean, and keep up with family and a few friends. I typically keep it low key and peaceful. I’m really not missing out on too much, but right now all “fun” possibilities are wiped out and it’s really bumming me out.

Dating is also out of the question right now. Like what am I going to say when I meet someone? “Hi, my name is … my life consists of working, taking care of my kids, and cancer treatments.” Ha! I think not.

Not that dating was going well last year anyhow. I attempted to date last July and again in October. Nope, and nope. I paused my dating life after the Oct dating flub, but two irregular mammograms and a biopsy ruined the rest of 2023 for me. I never did get “back out there.” Wherever “out there ” is.

I once started seeing a guy who, a couple of weeks in, told me that he had severe colon issues and he was about to get surgery done in the coming weeks. It wasn’t a quick fix surgery either. There were possibilities of complications, etc. I was perplexed as why he was actively dating???? He was rude early on and that quickly opened my eyes that he wasn’t a very good person. I think he wanted someone to take care of him. I felt bad for him, but I wasn’t going to be taking care of him.

And I don’t want anyone signing up to take care of me mid-cancer treatment either. That’s not fair to the other person.

That’s my other area of jealousy. It seems like everyone I know who’s had some kind of diagnosis like this has someone. I have my parents and siblings. I am beyond frustrated that they are helping me out. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all doing great helping me out, but it makes me silently furious at my ex-husband. He should’ve been the one taking me to appointments and helping me pick up medication. He should’ve been the one listening to me worry or help me make decisions. Not my parents.

I have to nix those thoughts each time though, or I’ll spiral. I’ll spiral into a world of anger and regret. It always starts with me thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, or stuck it out longer, or something… something different. And then I remember why I made the final decision to split — because it would not have ever changed. The criticisms. The cheating. The overall toxicity.

And then I remember how terrible he was at taking care of me while I had the flu. I can’t fathom my disappointment of being (not) cared for by him during cancer treatments. And this brings me back to reality that having my family take care of me is way better than not having anyone at all, even if I don’t have a significant other right now.

I don’t like this jealous me right now. I know I could have it much worse. I know my diagnosis is very treatable. I know I won’t be in this “treatment phase” forever.

All I can do is pray away the jealousy with the hope of better days to come.

Stifle Me Not

Preparing for the Next Journey

Breast Cancer, Change, Hair, Healing, Overthinking

I’ve come a long way, mentally and emotionally, since last Friday. Probably because I started back to work and it’s a nice distraction from sitting around on my couch for too long. Basically, being at work is preventing me from overthinking.

Since Friday morning, when I found out when my first chemo session will be, I’ve been a mix of anxious and relieved. Relieved because I have a better understanding of what to expect, but anxious because I’m not excited about what’s anticipated to come. I just want to get it over with.

On Saturday morning, I went to get a haircut. I originally scheduled the appointment for a hefty trim since I was returning to work. I ended up chopping off 3/4 of my hair in preparation of what’s to come. I wasn’t ready to go directly from long hair to a shaved head, so I made a plan to go with a short cut I’ve had in the past but don’t particularly like. Baby steps. I still have a lot of hair making up this short bob, but I figure this style will drive me crazy and I’ll be ready to shave it off once it’s time. Honestly, is anyone ever really ready to shave their head in a situation like this?

I’m actually more upset about the hair growth I must go through after chemo is all over. It took me 4 years to get my hair to where I liked it! Shaving my head is one thing, growing hair out is another journey altogether. I’m not going to have my hair back (the way I want it) for 1+ to 2 years.

I will survive, I know. That is the whole point of this of course.

Being back at work has been good for me. I’m surrounded by good people here. I’m busy without be stressed. They’re being very understanding and know I’m in for more challenges this year. That makes things so much easier.

So now I have a new countdown, to starting the rest of my life. Nineteen days until my first infusion. Please get me to June quickly.

Stifle Me Not

The Power of a Second Opinion

Breast Cancer, God, Hair, Hope

Today is my last day of medical leave. On Monday I return to work, but it won’t be without more future days out. I thought that going to my oncologist appointment on February 19th would bring great relief. It was quite the opposite. Not only did I not get the treatment recommendation I was hoping for, but I completely refused it and left more confused than when I first started this whole process. I didn’t refuse out of being stubborn, I refused out of being confused. I can’t move forward with something that will affect my health without fully understanding it.

I would have been okay with getting a treatment recommendation I didn’t want if I understood why I was getting it. Up to this point, most signs pointed to no chemo for me. There was so much hype about this oncotype score I got, and when I got a “good” score paired that with the previous conversation with my doctor, I was in complete shock when she walked in the door and started reading from her computer (rather than looking me straight in the face) that “it is recommended that you get chemo”. Of course I questioned it. And she kept saying “it will be really strong, and over 6 months”. She said “there is a 7% difference between the group that gets the chemo and the group that doesn’t get the chemo”… but she didn’t specify what the 7% really meant. Recurrence? Mortality? I tried asking so many questions, but I was frustrated and couldn’t find all the words. Her answers were not explanations, they were couple-word answers as she peered at me over the top of her mask. I felt crazy. And I just didn’t like her. Her bedside manner quite frankly sucks.

Something about that type of chemo regimen for “early stage” breast cancer just wasn’t sitting well with me. That, paired with the fact that 7% didn’t seem like much of a difference to move forward. Also, that’s not all there is to my “plan”. There’s also radiation, hormone therapy, and an additional cancer drug. I left her office refusing chemo and proceeding with hormone therapy, with radiation scheduled in the coming weeks. I was pissed. I was at peace that I refused her recommendation, but not at peace that I knew enough to be confident in my decision for the long term.

I got a recommendation from my cousin for a second opinion. The next day I immediately called to schedule an appointment. They got me in one week later, which was yesterday.

I was so nervous. It was a virtual video call. I waited about two minutes for the oncologist to appear. Right away he told me he read my file and asked what the best way was he could help. I told him about my concerns with the chemo recommendation. His response was so clear and so confident. It was just what I needed. He said he did absolutely recommend chemo, but not the kind the original oncologist was prescribing for me. He said her plan was too much for what I actually needed. Her plan involved 6 months of frequent chemo. He was recommending 4 rounds of a less toxic chemo over the course of 12 weeks (once every three weeks). He then explained why it was important to get it. He agreed with the radiation, but he strongly disagreed with the cancer drug she was planning for me.

He was a light a big ray of clarity that I have needed this whole time. He stated his medical opinion (didn’t just read from a computer screen), and he shared why he thought that way, and he referenced facts and statistics.

I wanted him to be my doctor. The only problem is that he’s over an hour away from my home, and its logistically more complicated to be treated by him than to go with a doctor nearby. It’s not impossible, I was about to hop in my car and go to his office after being so pleased with how he communicated. He said he would discuss his approach with my original oncologist if she’d be willing to let me move forward with his treatment plan at my nearby facility.

That was at 3:00 yesterday afternoon. By 10 o’clock this morning, I received a call from my local cancer center scheduling me to move forward with his plan, under the direction of my original doctor. So they worked it out. I’m not jumping over the moon, because who wants chemo? I don’t think anyone is jumping for joy for getting an infusion, but I’m pleased with the outcome.

I now have clarity. I now have a plan. I hate confusion. I know there are no guarantees with any decision you make, but I’d at least like to have some amount of confidence I’m moving in the right direction for my own well-being.

I know I type this anonymously, so no one knows what I look like. I have fairly long dark brown hair. It has never been dyed, so it has strands of silver “tinsel” throughout it. I’ve always really liked my hair. I’ve had it short, as in a long bob, a few times in my lifetime, but for the most part, it’s part of who I am. It air dries in soft waves around my face, or sometimes I use the blow dryer and hair straightener to smooth it out. Either way, it looks natural and has always been part of me. I should probably be more worried about all of the drug side effects other than hair loss, but I’m pretty sad to part with my hair for a little while, no matter how vain that might sound. I also don’t want to see the reactions of others. I just don’t want to deal with it.

I was really hoping I could avoid chemo altogether and not have to worry about this at all. It’s just today that I’m realizing just how much I unconsciously play with strands of my hair while I’m doing other things.

I have a hair appointment already scheduled for tomorrow to cut some length off of it to start. I start chemo in 25 days. I already had a hair appointment set up just because I needed a fresh cut before returning to work, but I think I’m going to chop it off above my shoulders to start to lessen the shock when I do have to shave it off. And I’m not going to try to save it with a cold cap or anything like that. I will start from scratch.

Three months. I keep telling myself that by June, I can begin regrowing my hair.

Today was my last visit to the plastic surgeon for a while. I have an expander in, and it’s expanded to its potential. Now I wait to get real reconstruction after my treatment is all complete.

Cancer diagnosis was 11/23/23.

Mastectomy was 1/22/24.

Chemo will begin 3/25/24.

Radiation should begin June 2024.

Next visit with the plastic surgeon is scheduled 9/12/24. I am hopeful I can get reconstruction before the end of this year.

All of this sucks, but it sucks less knowing that I now have some milestones to achieve rather than living in a world of confusion and frustration. I’ve said a lot of prayers lately, and praying for clarity has been one of them. I stopped trying to pray for certain outcomes. God has a His reasons for those, but I pray He takes away my worry/fear/anxiety and gives me peace and clarity to keep moving forward.

In fact, quick story before I end. On February 22nd, a few days after my disappointing oncologist appointment, I was so distraught. I couldn’t concentrate, I kept crying. I wasn’t sure what to do. I already placed a call to my original doctor’s office about putting in for a second opinion, but I was waiting for the second doctor’s office to call me. I finally grabbed my rosary, looked up what mystery day it was, and started praying – all while sobbing big tears down my face. As soon as I finished the first set of ten beads, my phone rang. It was the second doctor’s office calling to set up my appointment. I was in a little bit of shock, but at that moment I knew I was on this path for a reason and God is watching out for me. I just have to trust Him. So I am.

Stifle Me Not