I’m feeling really
good these days. Really, really good. It’s funny, at my last
visit with my Oncologist, I told her I was aging in fast forward.
Which isn’t as crazy as it sounds, considering that I started chemo as a
young wrinkle-free 105-lb mom, and finished months later as a feeble,
gray-faced, bald 120-lb old lady.
At least that how
you feel, post-chemo. There’s a fast-forwarding of life
that happens. These past months since my last treatment have been about me adjusting
to a revised rhythm, and getting to know this new version of me. At just
over 2 months post-chemo, I’m beginning to get color back in my face, and my
hair, though very dark, is coming in with a vengeance. There are still no
eyelashes to speak of, but I am pleased to note that the facial muscle
twitching is dissipating.
Though I’m seeing
improvements in many areas, unlike some diseases, there’s no graduation day
with cancer. It’s never really over. There are
frequent doctor appointments, the next 10-years of Tamoxifen side effects to be
managed, and – if things get really exciting – ultrasounds “just in case”.
But
life goes on, and our new normal actually feels…normal. Fun,
even – with a family of 6 there is plenty of
fun. So
we are adapting. Accepting.
Coping.
A
friend of mine refers to life after breast cancer….extras (extra
worries, extra pills, extra tests, extra hot flashes, extra weight gain, extra
sleepless nights, etc) as “Survivorship Issues.”
I
LOVE this phrase, Survivorship
Issues. I
love it because it reminds me that I’m one of the lucky ones. Yeah,
the side effects stink, and there are too many days where I battle my own
anxieties (it’s a totally weird thing, calculating the age you can safely die
knowing your children will be OK – my friends assure me this is both totally
normal AND completely effing meaningless), and the phrase Survivorship Issues reminds
me that all of these anxieties and tests and extra appointments and – yes –
even the Tamoxifan side effects are all because I
made it. I
survived.
I’m
a survivor.
