Risky Business
Sorry I didn’t write on Wednesday. It was my first day of NOT having chemo in four years! Since the decision to stop chemo and immuno, I’ve had up and down feelings. I’m trying to process them all before I write about them, but I’m better at processing them through writing. So here goes.
I’m a little in shock, like WHAT HAVE I DONE?! On Wednesday, the first day of missing chemo, I had asthma all day, and I felt somewhat panicked. I wondered what I had just done, and I really felt like it was a mistake deciding to take a break and stop something that was working. I am supposed to be on treatment for life. I began thinking all of those familiar thoughts – do I really want to have nerves every three months when scans come up, do I really want to lose my long hair again, do I really want to restart endless needle draws and biopsies and procedures, and do I really want to go through potential radiation, my nemesis, again, or suffer worse side effects of new treament? I had gotten used to trying NOT to think about or worry about those things. And the biggest question in my mind of all was: Am I inviting my cancer back, something that can kill me, something that is not in my body now but that will be in my body again if it comes back?
My biggest consolation is that I can go back on my same chemo and immuno if the cancer comes back because I haven’t built up a resistance to it yet. But maybe I did? Maybe my body just didn’t need it because the cancer stayed away on its own so far? Big questions that nobody really has an answer to because there isn’t one. And that’s what hit me hard on Wednesday and put fear into me for the first time regarding my cancer.
There are a few people in my life I’ve always gone to when I’ve needed advice – like when my car broke down after working the late shift at the newspaper, when something inevitably broke in the house when my husband was on the ship, or the times I’ve needed financial advice, those kinds of things. I’ve always gone to my grandfather, my dad or my stepdad. When things have gone wrong with cancer, I’ve always relied on my doctors. But missing chemo on Wednesday and struggling to know what the right thing to do about chemo and immuno is, I realized that nobody knows. Nobody knows how to cure me. How to cure triple negative breast cancer. How to cure metastatic cancer. Cancers are so individualized that no one really knows what will work. And that reality hit me hard this weekend and left me feeling really alone and afraid, afraid of making the wrong choice, a life or death choice.
All my friends and family that I have talked to have been so supportive of a break, even moreso than I thought they’d be since now that I am on a break, the cancer has a chance to come back. Their support makes me feel like I am making the right choice, for me, at least. I am not alone with so much support. And I went to church, where I, again, thought about how I am not alone. God, alone, knows my journey, my fate. And the truth is that no one knows the ending to their own story either. So, I decided not to spend the next four to six months until my next scan worrying. At church, I handed my worries and fears over to God, and I promised myself I would spend the next several months just living my life, free of worry because God has this. I don’t want to travel; I don’t want to check off a bucket list. I just want to live fully present in each day, as I have learned to do along this journey. It’s a lesson that keeps repeating itself in this circle of life. So, I am going to really live the heck out of the next four to six months before my next scan. And by that I mean, I’m going to be present in each day and be really grateful and thankful for everything in my days.
A few days ago, I had an MRI of my breast that had cancer in it. I also had a DEXA scan. I got the results of the DEXA scan, and I have osteopenia, which is not surprising to me because my mom has it, as well. It is a little scary to have it if cancer goes to my bones, but I will not worry about that now, and I can talk to my doctor about that when she goes over the results of the scans with me at my next appointment. I’m waiting on the MRI results still. I had to lay face down on the machine, and it hurt at first, reminding me I still have “scars” from surgery and radiation. I stretched out over the 25 minutes of scanning, so it wasn’t too unbearably uncomfortable.
So, now I am back to worrying about every headache and lump and bump after I had just learned to stop doing that! Grrrrrr! The cancer may not be back, but the mental battle is. But I don’t have to worry about anything today. Today I have my hair. Today I don’t have cancer. And best of all, today is three days after what would have been chemo and immuno, and I am not tired or feeling blah!!!
I am feeling great with no side effects because I didn’t have chemo! Bonus day! Gonna spend it wrapping gifts and getting boxes ready to go to the Post Office, making Christmas cookies, working on some Christmas gifts, and decorating the Christmas tree in my writing room.
I feel like I am a little bit back on a “timeline,” like I have to get everything in my life done in the next four to six months in case this cancer comes back. But I am countering those thoughts with faith and trust. And speaking of timelines, I am not sure how often I should write now that I’ve stopped chemo. I think I’ll still try to write every couple of weeks, when I have doctor visits, and when I have scans. Next up is an appointment at my new infusion center to get my port flushed and some bloodwork. I’ll let you know how that goes. Until then, enjoy the holiday season, and stay safe and healthy, everyone!