Life after cancer is definitely not the same as before. Let’s not kid ourselves. Anyone who tells us to just get over it and move on is unkind, uncaring and needs a lesson in empathy, to say the least. I am not sure that moving on from one of the more aggressive and fast-growing forms of cancer is that simple…especially after the harsh long-term effects of chemotherapy and targeted therapies that lasted sixteen months, as well as a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. It is life altering and those who don’t understand that are lucky because it means they’ve never experienced it. HER2 enriched is a double-edged sword. It is highly aggressive and super-fast growing and really loves to come back, BUT, thanks to research and breakthroughs, it’s become one of the more treatable forms of breast cancer, but it comes at a price. I paid my dues in the form of utilizing Adriamycin, Cytoxan, Taxol, Herceptin and Perjeta. They were a lifesaving cocktail but not without damage. I’m monitored for cardiotoxicity and secondary cancers that the first two drugs can cause many years out.
Before leaving for vacation in June, I had my first colonoscopy and was scared. The fear from having heard that I had cancer back in 2018 never really leaves so I was afraid to hear that same sentence again. Fortunately, I did not. Once the pathology report came in, I had a follow up with the gastroenterologist. The old nosy me would have pulled that shit up on my computer and googled line by line but I didn’t. I’m not sure why but it may have something to do with how reassuring my doctor was. At the visit, I was told I had a tiny precancerous polyp removed. I went deaf after that. All I could focus on was the word cancer. I was paralyzed. “Does that mean I’m going to have chemo all over again? Am I going to die?” Fortunately, the answer is no to both questions. He must have sensed that I was gone at that moment, and he addressed what it meant for me. Odds are, nope, I won’t get colon cancer so long as I stay on top of going in for screenings when I am due. I get to go again in 5 years, unless I have issues, then sooner. Being almost four years since diagnosis, the emotional wounds are still too raw. I was not even ready to hear the words “pre-cancerous.”
A few weeks ago, while on vacation, I discovered a large bump on my left foob, that’s the cancer side. I freaked the F out. Round, colorless and thanks to the double mastectomy severing nerves, I could not tell if it hurt, itched nor anything. Numbness is not fun and leaves a lot in question. That is a frightening prospect and left me sleepless for a few nights. Turns out, it was a mosquito bite that went away quickly. We are told of the two week thresh hold. If you don’t know what that is, you’re lucky and probably a muggle. Any new symptom or lump that doesn’t go away within two weeks needs to be investigated. It’s a scary wait.
As an HER2 enriched breast cancer survivor, I know just how aggressive and unrelenting this can all be. I am lucky and I have lost a few women in my life to this particular beast. This cancer came in and turned my life upside down, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. One just doesn’t walk away from the shitstorm and just get over it.
All of these things, plus my jagged smiling foobs and ongoing medical oncology appointments for the rest of my life (I am still at every six months but soon to be yearly) are an almost constant reminder of what I’ve battled. In the last 1418 days (3 years, 10 months and 19 days but who’s counting?) since I was diagnosed not one of them went by without some form of reminder, some days more gently than others. I have survived this thing called cancer and have the scars to prove it. One doesn’t simply get over it and move on when there are daily reminders of it and ongoing conversations and visits with oncology. I am in remission and will work on all that I can to stay there but I will not be quiet.
Chemotherapy and treatment may be over, I have hair, reconstruction and look more like myself but that does not mean that I am 100% back to the way I was. I’ve yet to meet another survivor who is. The aftermath of it all is not over. Cancer and chemo were tough, I’m tough and will keep on trudging, moving forward and continue the healing process. I’m going to stand tall, roll my shoulders back and not be apologetic about having had cancer. I will keep sharing what I learn and experience...good, bad, ugly, gross and funny and very much real…
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