Tag Archives: life after breast cancer

Wednesday 5:45 am

I’m so unbelievably thankful for my husband. I don’t know how I would do this without him. He is alway by my side, never complaining, ready to do whatever I need. Caregivers have a horribly difficult job, and they deserve so much more than they get.

Y’all see the good side. The put together version of Jenn that I allow the world to see. You don’t see the crying, the short temper, the gagging and the puking and the shitting. You don’t hear the moaning. You don’t have to wake up with me in the middle of the night to medicate me because I’m confused and I’m pain. You don’t have to sleep next to the lady who only showers about once per week, and who never wants to have sex because sex causes way too much pain.

David, my sweet babe, thank you so much for everything. For all the times – good and bad. For all the laughs and all the heartbreak. We took what should have been a stupid little fling and turned it into a beautiful life: a family, a home, a community. Thank you for ten of the absolute best years of my life. I hope you will always remember me how I was on my 35th birthday on the beach – or on my 40th stumbling down Duval Street. Remember our kiss on Taylor Ave and the quiet yet passionate romance that followed in our wake, whatever we did. Remember Alabama with the kids, and the bears at the Smokey Mountains. Remember the ridiculous steamy night in Savannah while we hunted for ghosts. So many parties – include our fucking raver in 2015, which is still considered by many to be a fucking legend. That’s the Jenn I want you to remember. The Jenn that Rob had to carry out of the mosh pit after she threw a drink in that dude’s face. Remember her beauty, grace, intelligence, and how formidable she’d get after a couple drinks. Always down to lawyer/argue. Always down to fuck. And always so madly head over heels in love with you.

It’s messy –

I found out that my SIL has breast cancer. I don’t know many details. We aren’t close. I want to be a support for her, obviously, but I also don’t know that I’m actually the best person to be there for her. Yes, I understand the challenges she’s currently facing, but I’m over here on an entirely different journey now. So I’m struggling with how to help or if she even wants to interact with me. After all, I’m a reminder of how badly this can end, ykwim?

We MBC ladies don’t typically interact with early stagers much. We have our own support groups, our own issues to face. This isn’t just a chapter in the book of our lives; it becomes the entire end of the novel, and we hope for as many chapters as possible. We’re not going to ring the bell at the end of treatment. It’s just not the same, and I’m struggling with my feelings around this, because I’ve done both. I rang the bell. I thought I was finished with this, and yet here I am. How can I offer support or inspiration to anyone at this point?

Sigh.

Fuck cancer.

The waiting.

On my way to the cancer center, I try to condition myself to hear bad news.

“There has been progression to the liver.”

“We see nodules in your lungs.”

“There are numerous new lesions to the spine.”

“The lymph nodes in your stomach grew.”

“Your tumor markers keep rising.”

“We will need to try a new treatment.”

No matter what I hear today, good or bad, I won’t cry in the office. I always save that for the car ride home. Except for the first time – when they told me I would lose my hair. I cried that time; sobbed in the office. Never again.

As I sit in the waiting room, I feel surprisingly calm. I can handle whatever the future holds.

the vag laser!

Yep – you read that title correctly. haha

Yesterday afternoon, I had treatment 1 of 3 of Femilift laser therapy.

How does it work?

Femilift works using precision laser technology via a probe that goes into the vagina. The laser beam leads to microablation of the vaginal tissue to break down old collagen and stimulate your body to produce healthy, new collagen and elastin. The vaginal tissue also develops new blood vessels that allow for increased lubrication and better vaginal health overall.

What does it treat?

Femilift is a choice for women of all ages. Whether you are postmenopausal or postpartum, Femilift treats the symptoms of declining estrogen levels such as dryness, burning, irritation, itching, and urinary leakage.

My experience:

I had to insert 5 ml of lidocaine into my vagina an hour prior to the procedure to help numb the area. Once I arrived, I undressed, feet in the stirrups, and put on a pair of metal goggles to protect my eyes from the laser. My doc inserted the probe and made three passes at varying strengths, which took a total of about 15 minutes. It was definitely painful – especially around the vaginal opening, which is where most of the nerve endings are located. I can’t have sex (or insert anything vaginally) for two days, and I go back in four weeks for my next treatment. I’m definitely uncomfortable, but I feel really good about it, and think it is worth it. I hope I see results soon!

How Much?

It’s not covered by insurance, though it absolutely should be. Don’t get me started on that. The three sessions total around $2k, and then you will need one session per year @ $650 for maintenance. If you can afford it, I think this is a great option for menopausal women – particularly for my estrogen based cancer ladies.

Local ladies – check out my doc. She’s fucking fabulous.
https://www.evorabydrbeckylynn.com/

I never really thought I’d be doing vaginal rejuvenation, but here we are. This is where being diagnosed with breast cancer at 33yo and being estrogen deprived for eight years will lead you. I’ve gotta get my bang on, ykwim? I feel so lucky that this treatment is an option for me.