Skip to main content

Cancer Free

I went into this cancer journey with a positive attitude and with the convictions that it was not going to be a focus of 2019. My focus has been on the wedding of my first-born Michael to the wonderful Carmen.

Chemo ended on June 10 and gave me the time needed to ‘recover’ before the July 13 wedding. Surgery was scheduled then for July 23 so I’d have the week between to attend to any pre-surgical appointments. What I found,instead on July 14 after the wonderful wedding was anything BUT focus or any desire whatsoever to have to even entertain the smallest thought about cancer or surgery or recovery. I not only didn’t want to entertain those thoughts I wanted to banish them, to get some bouncer to shove them permanently to the curb. (Although in my ‘hood we don’t have curbs).

So the first appointment I had was with an Occupational Therapist. I couldn’t even recall why the hell I had to meet with an OT and that is pretty much how I started the conversation.
ME:”So, I’m not even sure why I’m here. Or why I have this appointment. Do you?”
OT: “Yes I do. You’re here to discuss post surgical recovery.”
ME :”It’s just an outpatient lumpectomy. What recovery?”

And this is where my entertaining thoughts started to become kill joys and the post-wedding glow and joy were replaced with something like reality. I had envisioned going back to work the day after surgery but learned I staled that I was going to restricted from certain movements and lifting more that 10 pounds for 2 weeks. My wheelchair weighs in as a bantam weight chair - over 30 pounds and how was I going to get it in and out of my car for my WW Workshops? I hadn’t planned on missing any Workshops so I hadn’t even thought to look for subs to cover.

My manager (who has been battling breast cancer as well and has been a wonderful advocate and support) came to the rescue securing the needed subs and basically requiring me to take the 2 weeks off. Darn good thing to because while the surgery was outpatient  the pain or discomfort were not- they stayed with me. And my pain threshold is pretty high. 

So I was smacked into the reality that I had healing to do. But I was also delivered the absolute bestest news ever- that the MRI I had prior to surgery, the pathology of the lymph nodes and the surgeon’s own look at where the tumor had been- confirmed that I am cancer free!!!

I have had a fairly easy course of treatment, and have been grateful for that all along. And the post-surgical pain is nearly gone. If I have radiation, which is usually the next step, I pray it is uneventful. Because the focus of 2019 got to be the wedding of Michael and Carmen.

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Ten Year

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all l...

Blubbering Idiot

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said...

Hair today gone tomorrow

Before you all begin to think I’m breezing completely through chemo, let me remind you of this:   For the most part I am bald. Or if not completely bald, fuzzy headed, and not in the way I think or am thinking, but in the appearance. A little like a hedgehog or a porcupine with bald patches. On Super Bowl Sunday while most of you were overeating or filling out those little squares to wager on the upcoming game, John and I were having a unique pre-game party. In front of our bathroom mirror with clippers and scissors. Preparing for the certainty of hair loss from my chemo, I decided to buzz my locks to lessen the shock and mess of of losing large chunks of my silver, shoulder-length hair. It was in all honesty one of the most poignant moments in our 30+  year marriage. I had originally asked my friend and former stylist if she could do it . But when I shared my plan with John, he said that he wanted to do it. Certainly that was not expected. So instead of watching th...