I’m rapidly approaching the one year mark of being diagnosed, my cancerversary. The year went fast, ridiculously fast. I am not sure how I will mark the milestone, but I will acknowledge it. The diagnosis came in with a bang but the year is closing in a sea of calm. It changed me in so many ways.
A few months ago, I found myself in a conversation saying “nothing can really scare me anymore. I’ve HAD cancer and survived a double mastectomy and harsh chemotherapy. I’m stronger now than I was last year.” If you are wondering how that is possible, I don’t blame you.
I fell apart after ending the call with my surgical oncologist and texted my husband “I have cancer, please come home.” I didn’t know what to do or how to handle this. In typical male fashion, he raced home and took charge, making sure I made all the calls I needed to get the ball rolling to conquering this thing. Once I was in the middle of phone calls and filling out papers, I felt as though I was somewhat in control. I was making decisions and appointments. I slowly calmed down…unless I was thinking about surgery, then I lost my shit and freaked out many many many many (you get the point?) times and my husband would have to talk some sense back into me. I now have the ability to do that for myself, thankfully. I still get a little freaked out at times but I can handle it now.
Once you are diagnosed, there are decisions to be made. Obviously, the damned growth needed to be evicted. There are choices there…lumpectomy or mastectomy. That was easy for me, mastectomy. I chose a double. Get it all out and start from scratch. Reconstruction was on the table but what does that mean? In my case, implants. My plastic surgeon gave me all of the possible options, discussing using my own body tissue to rebuild my breasts. However, I was not a candidate as I am very lean, no excess fat to use. Silicone implants above the muscle was my route. They could go under the muscle but we felt this would give me the best cosmetic outcome, and it did. I love them now, especially since they won’t go rogue and try to kill me. So you see, there are many options with how to proceed surgically. I was in control of those decisions and I felt a bit empowered by taking charge. I was still scared shitless of the operation though…5-6 hours long for a double mastectomy with expander positioning for reconstruction. I did it though.
I read everything I could about what a double mastectomy was and how to recover with minimal frustrations and discomfort. I bought a mastectomy seatbelt cushion for my car and got one for my husband’s car as well. I was in no mood to deal with any issues with a seatbelt. I made sure I had lots of pillows to prop myself up and keep my arms elevated. For me, knowledge was power.
After I recovered, I had to meet with a medical oncologist to discuss chemotherapy. There were choices to be made here as well. Two specific courses for my specific type of breast cancer and I chose Adriamycin (Doxorubicin) affectionately called “the red devil” and Cytoxan (Cyclophosphamide) every other week for 4 rounds followed by Taxol (Paclitaxel) every week for 12 weeks. That was the chemotherapy I chose. With the first infusion of Taxol, I started Herceptin and Perjeta every three weeks as my targeted therapy to shut off the protein receptors, I will be completely done in January. I felt good about this choice and have no regrets.
Along the way, I’ve lost my hair (all of it), felt fatigued, had excruciating pains, lost my sense of taste, developed dry eyes and a perpetual runny nose, slight neuropathy, dry skin and a host other things. None of that was upsetting to me though. Chemotherapy and cancer put life into perspective for me. Things could always be worse and in the grand scheme of things, I have been damn lucky. I figured out how to navigate life despite these issues. This time, my stubbornness worked in my favor.
I did my best not to sit around and wallow in the misery that cancer is. That is so not like me as I can be a huge pessimist. I got up and went on with life as best I could. Everyone else kept going in my life and I wanted to do the same. I wasn’t going to let life pass me by while going through chemo. Obviously I could not do every single little thing the way I wanted or when I wanted but I sure as hell tried my best. I went Christmas shopping armed with a face mask, glove and hand sanitizer. I still went out to eat, usually on purpose after a round of chemo on my way home from the hospital because “F&%$ you cancer.” I made a conscious decision to keep on going, no matter what and I felt happy and fulfilled during my prison sentence with chemotherapy.
During the past few years, before being diagnosed, I started doing things that I have always been afraid of. I learned to swim and got over my fear of rollercoasters. Maybe subconsciously I was setting myself up for this cancer shit. Somehow, throughout this crazy journey, I became happier and less stressed. I feel more alive now than I did last year. I am more focused on doing things that matter and deal with less nonsense. Brave and strong. Somehow, I became those two words for myself. Words I would have never used to describe myself in the past. I have always felt that there is a silver lining in every dark cloud. I decided to be my own silver lining. I wanted my kids to not be fearful of the word cancer. In order for that to happen, I needed to be less afraid. I noticed that as I got older, I became more afraid of life and I needed to change that. I needed to take charge of my own well-being and do whatever I could to get through this…I have a family that relies on me for many things. I learned to rely on them for many things now. By relinquishing control and delegating tasks, I was still in charge but it made things easier for me. I learned to relax more.
While the chemotherapy was purging my body of any possible rogue cells, I was purging my life and environment, including people. I needed to let go of those from the past whose relationships did me more harm than good. It was cleansing for my soul. I sought cleaner brands of beauty, cleaned out my closets and took a good hard look at what foods I was consuming. My diet has been pretty clean for a number of years but it needed some tweaking. I no longer have my nightly glass of red wine. I seem to have lost my taste for that. Less meats, more whole grains and organic produce stock my pantry and refrigerator now. I’ve become more earthy crunchy with a hint of granola but still cling to my bougie/boujee ways.
This year has bought forth many challenges, medical, physical and emotional. I’d like to think that I have conquered them and that I’ve grown out of my shell, living life as fully and openly as I can. I have definitely stepped out of what used to be my comfort zone. I am very honest about my experience and acknowledge that it varies greatly from person to person. I chose to share everything because writing helps me and in turn, has helped others. I have been interviewed on camera for two campaigns for breast cancer awareness and am doing a photoshoot this week as well for the same reason. I want to help change the atmosphere of breast cancer. I hope that by sharing, more women will get screened and be less hesitant of the process. If there is a diagnosis, I hope my writing provides some answers and insight, some comedy and most of all, hope. Quite a few women have reached out to me for various reasons and I have been true to my word. If you need help finding funding for the screening process, let me know and I will find it for you. If you have questions or want to bounce ideas around with someone who has traveled the cancer trail, I am here.
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