Tag Archives: Breast Cancer

Not Alone

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Hope, ,

I’ve had some time to absorb my new health news, the news that I apparently have cancer. Cancer – what a word. It sounds like you’re dying before you even know you have it. It sounds awful. It makes people shudder. The actual word is uncomfortable to say and hear, and I’ve been trying to get used to knowing that I have it.

And what is cancer? It’s your body not handling its own cells properly. It’s your own body, gene mutation or not, overgrowing cells. We’ve conditioned ourselves to fear multiplying cells. The underlying reason behind the cells being out of control, and the degree of the aggressiveness of the cells, is all key to starting a treatment plan. But man, your gut instinct is to fear the worst.

Somehow, in the past couple of weeks, I’ve evened out. I’ve moved into the acceptance phase. I have two weeks until surgery, and I know as much information as possible at this point in the process. I’m noticing others around me are moving in the acceptance phase too. It’s weird. I still feel stuck in the twilight zone, like what is actually happening? But I’m not afraid like I was initially. I’m ready to push forward, keeping in mind that the pace of my brain may not be the same pace as my body.

Yesterday at work, I found out a co-worker of mine is having surgery next week after discovering a nodule on her lung. Lung cancer. She just found out the night before. I could see and feel the fear in her eyes. She was trying to be very matter of fact about it and trying to focus on her work. She kept telling me she was more worried about my condition and my upcoming surgery. Ugh, no, no one’s condition or surgery is better or worse than the other. I’ve never understood someone’s underlying feelings more in a moment than when she came in my office to tell me her news. Her cancer news.

I’ve had some time to absorb my news, but she only has a week to absorb her news.

This woman with lung cancer, she has been at our company for about 25 years. When I first started, 5 years ago, I didn’t like her. She was a know-it-all and rude. She always tried to be a hard ass. I quickly discovered she was a product of being one of the only female managers in a 100-year-old company – she developed copying mechanisms to keep up with/put up with all the personalities of the hard ass male managers over the years. When I came to the company, she wasn’t very kind on more than once occasion, and I let her have it right back. I wasn’t putting up with her negativity. A few years ago, the president was ready to terminate her. He’d had it with her negativity too and was ready to part ways with her.

A colleague of mine, and her direct manager, were called in to give our thoughts on her being terminated. It was tempting, I didn’t like her, but I knew the company would suffer without her, and I thought maybe she could improve if given the chance. I knew my perspective in my position was powerful and I could cause her professional damage if I didn’t tread carefully. The other manager and I insisted on keeping her. I wasn’t sure if it was worth pushing back at the time, but I’m glad I did. We witnessed her really working on herself over the past few years. She has turned into a whole new person, she shed the negativity, and I’ve really gotten to know her much better.

I’m very sorry to hear of her cancer news. But I kind of feel like we have this new bond. This understanding that no one else gets. I truly hope she comes out of this okay. And I know she feels the same way for me.

God has more prayers coming to him, and they aren’t for me this time.

Stifle Me Not

New Year, New Outlook

Breast Cancer, Change, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift, , ,

The New Year is a time to plan ahead. I feel like I can’t plan past January 22nd, my surgery date. I’ve never been in this situation before. This is so frustrating. No matter how much my brain understands what’s happening, my usual habits die hard. Everyone is talking about different things they’re planning to do in the future, and I’m here like, well, we’ll see how I feel in a few months. My daughter tries to ask me simple questions about her Spring sports, and it left me stressed and dazed. I’ve never had “I don’t know” as an answer for so many questions in all my life.

It almost feels like I’m going to be intentionally blocked from my usual lifestyle in order to change somehow, otherwise, I would never change. This has happened to me before, and I sense it’s happening again, although rather extreme means to get me to change don’t ya think? I guess major life changes choose you, you don’t usually choose them.

I would’ve never divorced my husband if it weren’t for him cheating. He wasn’t a healthy partner for me to be with in general. He was chipping away at my general well-being, but I made every excuse in the book for his behavior. Him cheating was, in my mind, the only reason I’d ever end things. Well, that day came, and even though it wasn’t an easy decision, it forced me to make a decision.

I feel like that’s what’s happening now. I am getting some clues lately, and it’s weighing on me. I am an A1 multitasker. From the moment I wake up to the second I drift off to sleep, I am doing multiple things and planning steps in the next few moments, days, weeks or months. I guess you could say I’m a woman. Haha! I do notice I may be more extreme than most, because I notice when other people aren’t or haven’t planned ahead. I’m always one step ahead of everyone else. And I’m tired. And I think this is a wake-up call to slow down.

My cancer is completely 100% fueled by hormones and there’s no genetic cause for it whatsoever. I’m not a doctor, but I have a sense of intuition that hasn’t let me down much. It could take years for me to figure out I’m accurate about something, but my hunches are often pretty close to the target.

I think my insane ability to multitask, plan, and organize is all a direct result of me coping with stress. When I was little, I hated to feel that pit in my stomach when something was wrong or I didn’t want to confront something or someone. I learned so well how to deal with stress that I don’t even know when I’m stressed anymore. I seriously don’t. Society has beat into our brains that women can do everything a man can do, or even do it better. Uh, no we can’t. I’m not built for this. I am out of my mind that I’ve been juggling a full-time job, two kids, and all the demands of a career and household, while simultaneously (occasionally) trying to date. Not to mention all of the little surprises that life in general throws at us.

No matter how many studies you put in front of me that “prove” stress doesn’t contribute to my type of cancer, I don’t believe it. There are many types of cancer and causes, so I’m not here saying stress causes all cancer. But if you look at my hormone-fueled cancer, it makes sense. Stress elevates cortisol, cortisol has an impact on estrogen. Estrogen, in my case, is growing cancer. I know environmental factors can contribute as well. There’s so much crap in our hygiene products and foods that it’s hard to say what is or isn’t a contributor. My gut is telling me I’ve underestimated the amount of stress I’ve taken on and dealt with in life so far.

I think I’m being nudged to cut back and reduce my stress, although that’s damn near impossible with two kids. I’m still going to worry about them and do all the things that all the moms in the world do for their kids. I don’t know the answer(s) yet on how I’m going to reduce stress, but the seed has been planted into my little brain, and I’m now consciously evaluating all of my habits that I call “normal”. This lifestyle of mine is slowly eroding me.

Two things happened this weekend that also led me down this path.

First, on Saturday evening, I was about to take my daughter’s friend home and I was stopped in my tracks due to my own lack of self-awareness. My daughter, her friend, and my son all piled in the car as I rushed around trying to get out the door. I had been doing work on my laptop and lost track of time. I had a case of sparkling water on the floor in the garage, and I bent down to grab a can before leaving. As I lifted my head up and twirled around to get into the car, I banged my head into the edge of the open car door (that I forgot was wide open). I immediately saw stars, wondered if I was bleeding, hushed the kids as they looked at me with wide eyes, and I went back into the house to get an ice pack. Luckily, I was not bleeding, and the immediate ice pack helped minimize the size of the knot on my forehead. But it’s two days later and that sucker still hurts. Why was I even rushing? I didn’t even realize I was rushing until I was made to slow down.

Second, last night on New Year’s Eve, I was getting ready to take my daughter to her boyfriend’s house. Right before leaving, I replaced the water filter in my refrigerator and began to run water through it, filling a big cup multiple times just to get the water flowing through the new filter and to make sure the water was clear. As I filled the big cup, I noticed it wasn’t filling much, but my daughter was ending her shower, so I figured it was just low water pressure. I took her to her boyfriend’s house, came back home, and began preparing some brownies to bake while also planning to cook some food in the air fryer while the brownies baked in the oven. As I opened the refrigerator to grab some eggs, I realized my entire refrigerator, including all the drawers, were filled with water.

What in the actual F*&K!?

Apparently, yours truly rushed through the filter replacement process and did not insert the filter tightly enough, causing water to come flowing out of the filter door and throughout the entire refrigerator. That clean-up process took about an hour, with lots of cursing and near tears moments.

When I first put the filter in, if you would’ve accused me of rushing and not putting it in tight enough, I would’ve fiercely denied such a thing had happened. However, hindsight is 20/20, and that is exactly what happened. I was rushing to do too many things.

My constant race through life is making me miss it. Or causing me to get injured or clean up more messes than I need to…

This cancer path is going to change me. I can resist it, or I can slow down and learn from it. Ugh, here we go. Time to take my own advice.

Stifle Me Not

Rollercoaster Ride

Breast Cancer, , , ,

I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster I did not sign up to ride. I’ve been feeling pretty good mentally and emotionally about moving forward with surgery in January. I’ve been researching what to expect post-surgery and trying to mentally prepare myself. That’s how I operate, the more I know, the less shock, the better I can deal with it. I’m even okay with not having all the information so I can adjust to expecting the unexpected. I can handle surprises along the way, but for some reason my first visit to the oncologist punched me in the face and sent me spiraling.

Leading up to the oncologist appointment, I’ve been in a world of distractions. I hadn’t thought about it too much. I jotted down some questions to ask, but to me it was just another appointment. I ended up with the flu after my son had it last weekend, so I dealt with the 3-day fever and focused on getting back to work. I met with my surgeon over the phone because I couldn’t go in for the appointment due to my fever. She explained my MRI results more and the surgery plan – what to expect and what is to be determined after further testing up to a week after my surgery. She answered every question to the best of her ability.

On Thursday, I went to work as usual and left early for my 3 pm oncologist appointment. My mom was waiting for me in the parking lot. I’m so grateful for my mom. She talks a lot, but she’s really trying to be there for me. She’s a good distraction while we wait in the waiting rooms because she talks about the craziest stuff. And this time was no different. We got checked in, led back to the exam room, and waited for what seemed like forever for the oncologist. I was asked the same questions I’m always asked over and over – medication list, etc, etc.

My oncologist, a petite Indian woman in her mid 50s, walked in and began the appointment. She spoke quietly, studied my chart quite a bit, asked a few questions, did a quick exam, and basically told me more of what I already knew – that I’d have to wait for post-surgery pathology results to return in order for her to be able to make a plan. She basically ran through a few potential plans, but kept ending it with, “but we’ll have to wait for your results”. At the end, my mom innocently asked “if she were to have chemo, how long would that process be?”

The doctor, with her face mask covering most of her expression, so I could only see the serious look in her eye said, “6 months”. She said, “it will be very strong, and it would be every two weeks for 6 months.” There was no hesitation to this response. There was no maybe this or maybe that, it was a very direct and definitive response.

Well shit.

I was happily digesting all information until that point. And then my brain malfunctioned into a soggy mess. My mom sat there with her mouth open for what seemed like eternity, while I fought back tears. I can’t tell you what else was said in that appointment. She ordered me two more tests to get and was on her way, said she was going on a trip to India and would be back after the New Year. The next time I’ll see her is a week after my surgery, when she decides the best treatment plan for me. Everyone left the room, and I cried while I got changed back into my clothes. My mom tried to hug me. I walked my tear-stained face to the appointment desk to make three more appointments in January: Bone density test, CT scan, follow up visit to oncologist. I feel like I need a personal assistant to help with all of my upcoming appointments.

I’m not sad for me. Obviously, I want to be healthy, but all I can think about is how my health is going to negatively impact my kids. They are 14 and 8. I physically do a lot to take care of them. I literally don’t sit down until about 8 pm every night after very full days. I was prepared for a 4-to-6-week recovery time from surgery. That feels very temporary. But to realize that my New Year could be completely eaten up with cancer treatments that are going to exhaust and deplete me (after finally recovering from surgery) is so disheartening and just makes me sad that I’ll be a burden. My parents are in their mid to late 60s. They already raised me, I don’t feel like they should have to take care of me. I then get furious at my ex-husband. I should be his mess. He should be taking care of me and the kids. I called him crying on my drive home from the appointment to let him know of the possibilities I just heard. I don’t expect him to take care of me, but he needs to step it up with our children. He didn’t say much, mostly tried to tell me “we’ll figure it out.”

Ugh. I got home and got my kids in the car, drove to meet my ex so they could be with their dad for the next couple of days. I ordered Indian food for pick up and came home to watch a movie and eat. Nothing tasted good. The movie ended up having a woman in it that got breast cancer and died. Seriously? I cannot make this up.

All I can do is pray. I have no control over anything. I’m supposed to be on this rollercoaster for some reason that remains to be seen. If I had no Faith, this would be much worse. It brings me peace when I’m spiraling. I’m a planner, but long-term goals are not in my view right now. So I’m going to go short-term and concentrate on enjoying Christmas with my loving family.

Stifle Me Not