One of the most difficult things with having cancer was worrying about my husband and family. I think they have the hardest job. Yes, I was enduring surgery, and previously, radiation. But I had doctors, nurses, and others taking good care of me, and I really had no choice with what I had to go through as the patient. I was just along for the ride. But being the spouse of someone battling this disease is often times worse than being the patient. It's so difficult to sit on the sidelines and watch your loved one in pain or going through surgery. There's nothing worse than that helpless feeling. Who takes care of the care-giver?
No matter how many times I told my husband to take a break or make sure he was in good shape, he'd always say "It's not about me right now."
Well, in my mind, it was about him. He marvels that people from our church came to sit with him and pray during my surgery. He doesn't understand that having our friends with him so he wouldn't be alone made ME feel better. I wanted him to feel love and supported. It doesn't do us any good as patients to watch our loved ones run themselves ragged.
While being a cancer patient is often a lonely road, I believe being the spouse or a loved-one of a cancer patient is often lonelier and scarier.
The next time you go see a sick friend, or visit a patient in the hospital, make sure you take the time to do something special for the spouse of that patient. Let them know they really aren't alone and that people care about them as much as they care about the patient. Take them out for coffee and let them talk. Listen to them. They have just as many fears as the cancer patient does. Maybe more...
Take care of the care-giver. It's good medicine for all of us.
Keep on truckin' everyone!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Scars
Scars. I don't think there are any of us who haven't dealt with scars one way or the other -- whether physical scars or emotional ones. Right now, I think I'm wrestling with both.
I'm used to scars. I was in a motorcycle accident when I was 20 years old, and ended up with a compound fracture of my right femur and had four operations on my leg. Thankfully, I walk, talk and can go dancing. With physical therapy, I was nearly good as new. By the way, I think physical therapists are fantastic! They're very special folks and really do their best to get you back to "normal." Again, after any accident or surgery, there's a "new normal." However, if there's a "normal" to get to, your PT's will help you get there!
Ok, I digress...The result of my leg surgery were scars. I have one that goes from my knee to the top of my leg. My hubby calls it my zipper. This scar really only bothered me in the summer -- when I'd wear shorts or a swimsuit. But it didn't take long for me to dress how I wanted and not worry about hiding my zipper. I didn't want my scars to run my life.
Now, I have more scars across my chest. Of course, these are easier to hide. But they're still there.
There are two ways you can look at scars. It’s easy to look at scars and believe they’re ugly and disfiguring. With scars, you know you’ll never look the same way again as you did before.
Or you can look at scars as a sign of strength and survival, as God’s blessing. You may ask yourself “What? Scars as a blessing? After the trauma that caused them?”
Yes, scars are a blessing. My scars tell me that I’m still here. After a while, I learned to look at my scars as a sign of strength and survival. Going through that accident and the recovery, and going through cancer not once, but twice, has made me realize I was stronger than I thought I was.
That God carried me through those surgeries, and that He has work for me to do here on earth.
Would I feel that faith and feel this strength had I not gone through these experiences? I was talking with my cousin last week. In future blog posts, I hope to share more about my cousins. We are blessed to be a part of the same family, as most of us choose to go beyond just being cousins, and choose to be brothers, sisters and friends.
So, I was chatting with my special cousin-sister. She fights her own daily battle against a physically debilitating disease: arthritis.
This is not the disease just for aging. She's had this as long as I can remember, and has to deal with physical pain and the crippling effects every single day. But she told me, she wouldn't be the same person without this disease. It has made her stronger, made her the person she is today. And I must say, she is beautiful, strong, and sunshine in our lives. If you didn't know what she battles every day, you would think she didn't have a care in the world. She is such a bright light, and like me, would credit family and faith for getting her through her days.
My cousin and I have a kinship. She was also in a serious accident when she was younger. And now we know we are more beautiful for what we've endured, despite the physical changes on the outside. We are blessed to have our family, to have our faith and prayers for each other, and blessed to have our scars, both inside and out. We're stronger for our pain, and know God will use this for His purpose in those around us.
I'm thankful for my cousins and the scars we share.
Keep on truckin' everyone.
I'm used to scars. I was in a motorcycle accident when I was 20 years old, and ended up with a compound fracture of my right femur and had four operations on my leg. Thankfully, I walk, talk and can go dancing. With physical therapy, I was nearly good as new. By the way, I think physical therapists are fantastic! They're very special folks and really do their best to get you back to "normal." Again, after any accident or surgery, there's a "new normal." However, if there's a "normal" to get to, your PT's will help you get there!
Ok, I digress...The result of my leg surgery were scars. I have one that goes from my knee to the top of my leg. My hubby calls it my zipper. This scar really only bothered me in the summer -- when I'd wear shorts or a swimsuit. But it didn't take long for me to dress how I wanted and not worry about hiding my zipper. I didn't want my scars to run my life.
Now, I have more scars across my chest. Of course, these are easier to hide. But they're still there.
There are two ways you can look at scars. It’s easy to look at scars and believe they’re ugly and disfiguring. With scars, you know you’ll never look the same way again as you did before.
Or you can look at scars as a sign of strength and survival, as God’s blessing. You may ask yourself “What? Scars as a blessing? After the trauma that caused them?”
Yes, scars are a blessing. My scars tell me that I’m still here. After a while, I learned to look at my scars as a sign of strength and survival. Going through that accident and the recovery, and going through cancer not once, but twice, has made me realize I was stronger than I thought I was.
That God carried me through those surgeries, and that He has work for me to do here on earth.
Would I feel that faith and feel this strength had I not gone through these experiences? I was talking with my cousin last week. In future blog posts, I hope to share more about my cousins. We are blessed to be a part of the same family, as most of us choose to go beyond just being cousins, and choose to be brothers, sisters and friends.
So, I was chatting with my special cousin-sister. She fights her own daily battle against a physically debilitating disease: arthritis.
This is not the disease just for aging. She's had this as long as I can remember, and has to deal with physical pain and the crippling effects every single day. But she told me, she wouldn't be the same person without this disease. It has made her stronger, made her the person she is today. And I must say, she is beautiful, strong, and sunshine in our lives. If you didn't know what she battles every day, you would think she didn't have a care in the world. She is such a bright light, and like me, would credit family and faith for getting her through her days.
My cousin and I have a kinship. She was also in a serious accident when she was younger. And now we know we are more beautiful for what we've endured, despite the physical changes on the outside. We are blessed to have our family, to have our faith and prayers for each other, and blessed to have our scars, both inside and out. We're stronger for our pain, and know God will use this for His purpose in those around us.
I'm thankful for my cousins and the scars we share.
Keep on truckin' everyone.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Rollercoaster
I've always thought of this journey of dealing with cancer as a roller coaster ride. One minute you're up, the next you're down. One minute, you're strong and you can beat this thing, and the next you're shouting at God saying "Why me?" One day there's a doctor sharing grim news, and the next there's a doctor providing hope.
Living after cancer is not much different than living a "normal" life (whatever normal is). We're all on the roller coaster of life. There are good days and bad days, calm seas, and rough ones. I guess life would be pretty boring if it wasn't a bit of a roller coaster ride. It reminds me of that scene in the movie "Parenthood" from 1989 with Steve Martin, where Martin's grandmother is talking about how exhilirating, frightening and sickening the roller coaster was as compared to the merry-go-round, where it just goes around. She preferred the roller coaster. Well, the roller coaster is life. I've always thougth you can't appreciate the good times without going through the bad times.
So, the point of this is that I'm back on a small roller coaster ride. I went to see my cancer doc yesterday because of the swelling in my arm. Again, it's not the side where the cancer was and where they removed lymph nodes. That's where you'd expect some swelling, but that side looks great. It's my other arm that is swelling. To quote my doctor, "Well, that's weird!" Yep, it's weird and unusual. I had the rare, unusual cancer, now I'm having a weird, unusual swelling in the wrong arm.
I'm having a chest CT in two weeks (the cancer I had is one that likes to go to the lungs, so although we believe we got all of it during surgery, we are watching things closely). My chest CT has now been modified to include my left arm. We all think I'm just retaining fluid. My hubby and I have determined that the massage therapy we learned during my Physical and Occupational Therapy already helps. So it may come down to where I have to wear a compression sleeve on that side.
That's not the greatest news, but not the worst news. I hate my compression sleeve that I have to wear when I fly. Now, it looks like I'll have to wear one on both arms. But if that's the worst of this, then it's okay. It's annoying but not life-threatening. Just another twist and turn on this roller coaster of life after cancer.
Keeping a positive attitude is difficult somedays. But, in thinking about my attitude in recent weeks, I realized I was forgetting to pray. I was so wrapped up in my discouragement, I didn't seek the right kind of help by being prayerful. So, as I'm getting dressed after my appointment, I thanked God for my husband, my wonderful doctor, and for the blessings of good medical care. Compression sleeves aside, life is still okay.
On another positive note, as I said, the massage we learned seems to help keep the fluid moving. So that means my hubby must massage me every day. It's a very particular kind of massage, but hey -- he's touching me daily. And it's become a sweet one-on-one time for us. See -- there are always good things along the way!
Keep on truckin' everyone!
Living after cancer is not much different than living a "normal" life (whatever normal is). We're all on the roller coaster of life. There are good days and bad days, calm seas, and rough ones. I guess life would be pretty boring if it wasn't a bit of a roller coaster ride. It reminds me of that scene in the movie "Parenthood" from 1989 with Steve Martin, where Martin's grandmother is talking about how exhilirating, frightening and sickening the roller coaster was as compared to the merry-go-round, where it just goes around. She preferred the roller coaster. Well, the roller coaster is life. I've always thougth you can't appreciate the good times without going through the bad times.
So, the point of this is that I'm back on a small roller coaster ride. I went to see my cancer doc yesterday because of the swelling in my arm. Again, it's not the side where the cancer was and where they removed lymph nodes. That's where you'd expect some swelling, but that side looks great. It's my other arm that is swelling. To quote my doctor, "Well, that's weird!" Yep, it's weird and unusual. I had the rare, unusual cancer, now I'm having a weird, unusual swelling in the wrong arm.
I'm having a chest CT in two weeks (the cancer I had is one that likes to go to the lungs, so although we believe we got all of it during surgery, we are watching things closely). My chest CT has now been modified to include my left arm. We all think I'm just retaining fluid. My hubby and I have determined that the massage therapy we learned during my Physical and Occupational Therapy already helps. So it may come down to where I have to wear a compression sleeve on that side.
That's not the greatest news, but not the worst news. I hate my compression sleeve that I have to wear when I fly. Now, it looks like I'll have to wear one on both arms. But if that's the worst of this, then it's okay. It's annoying but not life-threatening. Just another twist and turn on this roller coaster of life after cancer.
Keeping a positive attitude is difficult somedays. But, in thinking about my attitude in recent weeks, I realized I was forgetting to pray. I was so wrapped up in my discouragement, I didn't seek the right kind of help by being prayerful. So, as I'm getting dressed after my appointment, I thanked God for my husband, my wonderful doctor, and for the blessings of good medical care. Compression sleeves aside, life is still okay.
On another positive note, as I said, the massage we learned seems to help keep the fluid moving. So that means my hubby must massage me every day. It's a very particular kind of massage, but hey -- he's touching me daily. And it's become a sweet one-on-one time for us. See -- there are always good things along the way!
Keep on truckin' everyone!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Bosom Buddies
A friend of mine was just diagnosed with DCIS. For those who don't know, DCIS stands for Ductal Carcinoma In-Situ. If you have to get breast cancer, well, this is the one to get. It's very treatable, very curable if caught early. My friend has had the biopsy, awaiting the MRI, then whatever treatment plan comes from there. I'm guessing lumpectomy and probably radiation.
She'll do just fine. She has a strong faith, a wonderful family, and friends who will love and support her. She has a great sense of humor, too, which you definitely need.
She's putting on a brave face, and she is brave, don't get me wrong. But I also can see the fear in her eyes, and I know how overwhelming it all can be. I want to help her and support her. I want to reassure her she WILL get through all of this. I don't know the best way to do this for her, but I guess number one is just to listen. When she wants to talk, let her talk.
Her experience will differ from mine, just because we're different people. However, listening and being there is something we all can do for a friend, especially if we've been through the same thing.
I don't want to smother my friend, nor do I want to ignore her. I want to reassure her -- hold her hand, remind her that this is all treatable and survivable. After all, she's now joined this exclusive club that none of us wanted to join. But here we are -- Bosom Buddies, so to speak.
So as her Bosom Buddy, I'll be there when she wants me there, and I'll leave her be when she needs time on her own. Most of all, I'll do my best to listen to her, pray for her, and just be a good friend.
I guess this is something we should do for all the people in our lives -- be a friend.
Keep on truckin' everyone!
She'll do just fine. She has a strong faith, a wonderful family, and friends who will love and support her. She has a great sense of humor, too, which you definitely need.
She's putting on a brave face, and she is brave, don't get me wrong. But I also can see the fear in her eyes, and I know how overwhelming it all can be. I want to help her and support her. I want to reassure her she WILL get through all of this. I don't know the best way to do this for her, but I guess number one is just to listen. When she wants to talk, let her talk.
Her experience will differ from mine, just because we're different people. However, listening and being there is something we all can do for a friend, especially if we've been through the same thing.
I don't want to smother my friend, nor do I want to ignore her. I want to reassure her -- hold her hand, remind her that this is all treatable and survivable. After all, she's now joined this exclusive club that none of us wanted to join. But here we are -- Bosom Buddies, so to speak.
So as her Bosom Buddy, I'll be there when she wants me there, and I'll leave her be when she needs time on her own. Most of all, I'll do my best to listen to her, pray for her, and just be a good friend.
I guess this is something we should do for all the people in our lives -- be a friend.
Keep on truckin' everyone!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
I'm "normal" today!
I know the theme of this blog is the "new" normal, which is dealing with my new physical body, making decisions about reconstructive surgery, visiting doctors every three months for the next couple of years, etc., etc.
But after yesterday's post on feeling discouraged, I realized I'm "normal," at least for today - hee hee. I'm not alone in feeling discouraged or upset that I have aches and pains preventing me from exercising, or a sinus headache like no end this morning.
This past weekend, hubby and I attended a wedding and a funeral. As my aunt so aptly said: it was the circle of life. So, it's part of life to be frustrated or discouraged. It's normal today that I have a deadline for my job and am battling a sinus headache.
So, because I had cancer do I get to crawl under a rock? Nope -- one has nothing to do with the other. Which is why I'm normal today. I'll have to do what hundreds of other people have to do today -- take my medicine and plow through to complete my work. Since my boss commented on yesterday's post, I for sure better buckle down and "get 'er done!"
But I want to take a moment to thank everyone for their wonderful comments and words of encouragement. I don't know what possessed me to start this blog thing. It's difficult for me to express my feelings and put it all out there. But the comments yesterday and wonderful words have lifted my spirits, and once again, showed me how blessed I am. Y'all won't judge me forever as a negative person because I have a discouraging day. Thank you for that. Oh, for those reading me on blogger, most of my comments came via Facebook. But thank you to all for being encouragers and for your kind words and prayers.
Finally, although I'm just a normal, average person, maybe my experiences can help someone else not feel so alone. That may have been my goal in starting this, but yesterday proved that I received the blessing.
Okay-- medicine taken -- let's pray the sinus headache recedes, and onward I go to complete my work for the day. This day which is a "normal" day!
Keep on truckin' everyone! :)
I know the theme of this blog is the "new" normal, which is dealing with my new physical body, making decisions about reconstructive surgery, visiting doctors every three months for the next couple of years, etc., etc.
But after yesterday's post on feeling discouraged, I realized I'm "normal," at least for today - hee hee. I'm not alone in feeling discouraged or upset that I have aches and pains preventing me from exercising, or a sinus headache like no end this morning.
This past weekend, hubby and I attended a wedding and a funeral. As my aunt so aptly said: it was the circle of life. So, it's part of life to be frustrated or discouraged. It's normal today that I have a deadline for my job and am battling a sinus headache.
So, because I had cancer do I get to crawl under a rock? Nope -- one has nothing to do with the other. Which is why I'm normal today. I'll have to do what hundreds of other people have to do today -- take my medicine and plow through to complete my work. Since my boss commented on yesterday's post, I for sure better buckle down and "get 'er done!"
But I want to take a moment to thank everyone for their wonderful comments and words of encouragement. I don't know what possessed me to start this blog thing. It's difficult for me to express my feelings and put it all out there. But the comments yesterday and wonderful words have lifted my spirits, and once again, showed me how blessed I am. Y'all won't judge me forever as a negative person because I have a discouraging day. Thank you for that. Oh, for those reading me on blogger, most of my comments came via Facebook. But thank you to all for being encouragers and for your kind words and prayers.
Finally, although I'm just a normal, average person, maybe my experiences can help someone else not feel so alone. That may have been my goal in starting this, but yesterday proved that I received the blessing.
Okay-- medicine taken -- let's pray the sinus headache recedes, and onward I go to complete my work for the day. This day which is a "normal" day!
Keep on truckin' everyone! :)
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Discouraged today... And parts of this are quite whiney, so forgive me in advance.
I'm generally a very positive person. Even after my mastectomy last summer and dealing with those wretched, awful drains, I tried to stay positive. I was happy that overall I had very little pain from the surgery, that I wouldn't have to go through chemotherapy (Praise God!). It seemed like we got all the cancer so now was the time to just focus on recovery.
Yes, having sarcoma of the breast changed me. No doubt about that. Now, I wanted to be very purposeful and intentional with my life. I felt God's blessings all over this entire situation. So, let's take those blessings and run!
But then there are days like today. I don't want to be whiney -- especially when overall I have it SO good! But today I am discouraged. I've been trying to exercise more, take good care of myself, really make the most of things. But it seems like nothing but roadblocks are in my way. I mean, gheez, how long does it take an immune system to build back up from surgery!!!
So, I'm finally working on an exercise program I really enjoy. I'm getting into it, really trying to focus on just feeling good. In February, I got bronchitis. Both my hubby and I were down with that one. And it was the cough that lingered and lingered. It didn't want to go away. Okay-- so we work our way through that. Then I get tendonitis in my foot. I do some more stretching and get through that. THEN -- I strain a muscle in my back. That was two weeks ago, and it still hurts! Damn exercise. Is this what happens when you try to get healthy?! This morning, I wake up with a sore throat and clogged sinuses. Whaa... poor me. I suppose overall, this is just life. So, we'll get past all of these, and I PROMISE to quit whining about it all. I hate how this sounds. Time to shut up and pray!
But along with the back and sinus issue this week, I have some swelling. Here's where the "new normal" comes in when living after cancer. Muscle strains and coughs are part of daily life. But swelling is a different story. I have swelling in my upper arm and under my arm. After a mastectomy, swelling is not good. The kicker is the swelling is on my non-cancer side! If I was swelling on the side where my sarcoma was, then we'd think lymphedema. It's something we watch for once they take your lymph nodes under your arm to check if the cancer has spread.
This is different being in my "healthy" arm. For now, hubby and I are treating the swelling like we would with the other side. My occupational therapist showed us massage we could do to keep fluid moving. We've focused on my right side (cancer side) up til now -- and now we're doing both arms. And it's helped. I've increased my water intake. I'm back to at least walking, even though exercise bites my back. My left arm originally looked about 2-inches larger than the right. Now, after only a few days of intense massage and water-drinking, it's looking better, and more even with the other arm.
We have an appointment with my doctor on Tuesday. I'm sure I'll feel silly, because the swelling will have gone down. But, I guess we have to double-check because of the swelling under my arm, near my breast area, near the surgical site.
So, onward we go... despite feeling discouraged. Thanks for reading through this anyway. Sometimes I just want to wallow in my whininess -- but I know the thing to do is shut up, pray, and get busy working on something -- anything -- to keep moving forward.
Overall, that's the goal -- keep moving forward. Enjoy every moment of this life I've been given. I wish there weren't discouraging days... but it's going to happen -- whether you've had cancer or not.
Onward we go...
I'm generally a very positive person. Even after my mastectomy last summer and dealing with those wretched, awful drains, I tried to stay positive. I was happy that overall I had very little pain from the surgery, that I wouldn't have to go through chemotherapy (Praise God!). It seemed like we got all the cancer so now was the time to just focus on recovery.
Yes, having sarcoma of the breast changed me. No doubt about that. Now, I wanted to be very purposeful and intentional with my life. I felt God's blessings all over this entire situation. So, let's take those blessings and run!
But then there are days like today. I don't want to be whiney -- especially when overall I have it SO good! But today I am discouraged. I've been trying to exercise more, take good care of myself, really make the most of things. But it seems like nothing but roadblocks are in my way. I mean, gheez, how long does it take an immune system to build back up from surgery!!!
So, I'm finally working on an exercise program I really enjoy. I'm getting into it, really trying to focus on just feeling good. In February, I got bronchitis. Both my hubby and I were down with that one. And it was the cough that lingered and lingered. It didn't want to go away. Okay-- so we work our way through that. Then I get tendonitis in my foot. I do some more stretching and get through that. THEN -- I strain a muscle in my back. That was two weeks ago, and it still hurts! Damn exercise. Is this what happens when you try to get healthy?! This morning, I wake up with a sore throat and clogged sinuses. Whaa... poor me. I suppose overall, this is just life. So, we'll get past all of these, and I PROMISE to quit whining about it all. I hate how this sounds. Time to shut up and pray!
But along with the back and sinus issue this week, I have some swelling. Here's where the "new normal" comes in when living after cancer. Muscle strains and coughs are part of daily life. But swelling is a different story. I have swelling in my upper arm and under my arm. After a mastectomy, swelling is not good. The kicker is the swelling is on my non-cancer side! If I was swelling on the side where my sarcoma was, then we'd think lymphedema. It's something we watch for once they take your lymph nodes under your arm to check if the cancer has spread.
This is different being in my "healthy" arm. For now, hubby and I are treating the swelling like we would with the other side. My occupational therapist showed us massage we could do to keep fluid moving. We've focused on my right side (cancer side) up til now -- and now we're doing both arms. And it's helped. I've increased my water intake. I'm back to at least walking, even though exercise bites my back. My left arm originally looked about 2-inches larger than the right. Now, after only a few days of intense massage and water-drinking, it's looking better, and more even with the other arm.
We have an appointment with my doctor on Tuesday. I'm sure I'll feel silly, because the swelling will have gone down. But, I guess we have to double-check because of the swelling under my arm, near my breast area, near the surgical site.
So, onward we go... despite feeling discouraged. Thanks for reading through this anyway. Sometimes I just want to wallow in my whininess -- but I know the thing to do is shut up, pray, and get busy working on something -- anything -- to keep moving forward.
Overall, that's the goal -- keep moving forward. Enjoy every moment of this life I've been given. I wish there weren't discouraging days... but it's going to happen -- whether you've had cancer or not.
Onward we go...
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
My Cancer History
A little bit more about me and my history. I was diagnosed with breast cancer (DCIS) in June 2004. I had a lumpectomy and 7 weeks of radiation. Believe me, I did all I could to move on very quickly from that and put it behind me. I hated radiation! By week six, I was in misery, and couldn't wait to be done with the entire ordeal.
Of course, that inspired me to write about it, with the help of my husband. You can read more of our story in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Cancer Book (released March 2009).
After that, I happily put cancer behind me. Truthfully, I felt like I "got off easy." I had fairly minor surgery, and despite how I hated radiation, I did not have to have chemo. I was still me and ready to move on with my life.
But five years later it all changed. Yes, I made it to my five-year mark. Five years and three weeks to be exact. But in July 2009, during my mammogram, the doctor said there was something there. But this one was different. I did NOT have a recurrence. Instead, I had a new cancer, in the same breast as my previous cancer. This was diagnosed as a high-grade sarcoma. It was, as the doctors like to say, "an ugly baby."
Well, this ugly baby would cost me my breasts. A double-mastectomy was in order. I was diagnosed two days before my birthday.
My emotions were all over the place. Fear, hope, faith, fear, fear, fear...
I was afraid of surgery, anesthesia, pain, recovery, what would I look like, and mostly would I die?
The internet research I did on sarcoma was frightening. I was turning 46 years old, and what I had thought was the downhill slide toward 50, suddenly became a very young 46. I wasn't ready for all of this. A possible death sentence at 46 was wrong. I was much too young!
Yet there it was in front of me. This time, I wouldn't be able to ignore my cancer, and its effect on me. This cancer was much too real.
More to come...
A little bit more about me and my history. I was diagnosed with breast cancer (DCIS) in June 2004. I had a lumpectomy and 7 weeks of radiation. Believe me, I did all I could to move on very quickly from that and put it behind me. I hated radiation! By week six, I was in misery, and couldn't wait to be done with the entire ordeal.
Of course, that inspired me to write about it, with the help of my husband. You can read more of our story in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Cancer Book (released March 2009).
After that, I happily put cancer behind me. Truthfully, I felt like I "got off easy." I had fairly minor surgery, and despite how I hated radiation, I did not have to have chemo. I was still me and ready to move on with my life.
But five years later it all changed. Yes, I made it to my five-year mark. Five years and three weeks to be exact. But in July 2009, during my mammogram, the doctor said there was something there. But this one was different. I did NOT have a recurrence. Instead, I had a new cancer, in the same breast as my previous cancer. This was diagnosed as a high-grade sarcoma. It was, as the doctors like to say, "an ugly baby."
Well, this ugly baby would cost me my breasts. A double-mastectomy was in order. I was diagnosed two days before my birthday.
My emotions were all over the place. Fear, hope, faith, fear, fear, fear...
I was afraid of surgery, anesthesia, pain, recovery, what would I look like, and mostly would I die?
The internet research I did on sarcoma was frightening. I was turning 46 years old, and what I had thought was the downhill slide toward 50, suddenly became a very young 46. I wasn't ready for all of this. A possible death sentence at 46 was wrong. I was much too young!
Yet there it was in front of me. This time, I wouldn't be able to ignore my cancer, and its effect on me. This cancer was much too real.
More to come...
Monday, April 26, 2010
This blog has long been defunct. Probably because I didn't have a topic or theme for the blog. Well, maybe now I do. And it's a difficult one for me to write about. I don't want to be a public person known JUST as a cancer survivor. I'm much more than that. I don't want cancer to become my identity. However, there's so many twist and turns on this journey through cancer, that maybe I should write about it. Maybe just to not feel so alone at times. I know there are many, many other survivors out there who have walked this road. Hey, and thank God there are so many survivors!! I like that! But it's still an exclusive club that we're in. A club we never wanted to join, yet here we are. I've been here twice now. Back on this journey, and I don't want to be alone.
To clarify, I KNOW I'm never alone. As a Christian, I have my faith in God, and He definitely has been with me ALL THE WAY through this journey. No, I don't understand why I got cancer twice. But I do believe that all things are used for God's purpose. Maybe mine is just to reach out with love and with hope. Maybe I'll never know the reason, but I definitely want to focus on moving forward and not back.
This blog was originally called Rebecca's Journey. What a journey this life is! The theme of this blog is the "New Normal." The "new normal" is what happens when your life turns upside down, and this you're supposed to begin again -- with many things being the same, but your perspective, and your physical health and looks being so much different.
Everyone reacts differently to having cancer, to getting through treatment, to surviving cancer. Surviving is a word I like to focus on. However, different we may react, only a fellow cancer survivor knows what this feels like at its core. Friends and family can understand, sympathize, and care for you like never before, but sometimes you want to scream: You don't know what this feels like! But as long as those friends and family members allow you to scream, and still love you anyway, then I guess it's all right.
I've screamed at God. I didn't understand, and I certainly didn't want this. But yet I know He's been there by my side the entire time. Of that, I have no doubt. He's shaping me, molding me into someone else. It's obviously not just my physical body that's being re-shaped. And hopefully, I can take this faith, and this experience, and turn it in to something good.
For now, I just wanted to say hello. Next time, we'll go into my cancer history, so you'll learn more about the road I've been on. Maybe together, we can share and care for each other, and still be grateful to be here!
To clarify, I KNOW I'm never alone. As a Christian, I have my faith in God, and He definitely has been with me ALL THE WAY through this journey. No, I don't understand why I got cancer twice. But I do believe that all things are used for God's purpose. Maybe mine is just to reach out with love and with hope. Maybe I'll never know the reason, but I definitely want to focus on moving forward and not back.
This blog was originally called Rebecca's Journey. What a journey this life is! The theme of this blog is the "New Normal." The "new normal" is what happens when your life turns upside down, and this you're supposed to begin again -- with many things being the same, but your perspective, and your physical health and looks being so much different.
Everyone reacts differently to having cancer, to getting through treatment, to surviving cancer. Surviving is a word I like to focus on. However, different we may react, only a fellow cancer survivor knows what this feels like at its core. Friends and family can understand, sympathize, and care for you like never before, but sometimes you want to scream: You don't know what this feels like! But as long as those friends and family members allow you to scream, and still love you anyway, then I guess it's all right.
I've screamed at God. I didn't understand, and I certainly didn't want this. But yet I know He's been there by my side the entire time. Of that, I have no doubt. He's shaping me, molding me into someone else. It's obviously not just my physical body that's being re-shaped. And hopefully, I can take this faith, and this experience, and turn it in to something good.
For now, I just wanted to say hello. Next time, we'll go into my cancer history, so you'll learn more about the road I've been on. Maybe together, we can share and care for each other, and still be grateful to be here!
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