Life feels sort of like a mind fuck right now.
This happened last time I got the “all clear” on cancer. You spend so much time preparing yourself for the worst case scenario, holding your shit together, enduring the procedures, and managing loved ones feelings, that after you are finally told you’re good – then and only then can you finally (and most properly) lose your shit. Up until you hear you have no evidence of disease, everything else is simply survival. Life on auto pilot.
I didn’t cry when my doc told me the bad news. I was momentarily teary eyed, and I felt like someone had punched me in the chest, but I kept my shit together. I went back to work and I got shit done. I went on with my life. When the doc called yesterday and told me she got it all, I sobbed briefly but hysterically once I hung up the phone.
Now it feels weird. Life is supposed to go right back to normal, but that’s not how my mind works. I need time to process everything. I need time to properly feel my feelings.
So if I seem a bit melancholy, don’t judge me too harshly, please. Of course I’m overjoyed that I’m in the clear, but that doesn’t mean I’m mentally okay yet. I can be happy that I’m cured but still sad/angry/confused/resigned over the fact that this shit keeps happening to me.
Regardless, every moment is a gift. I know this all too well. Even feeling like a hungover pile of shit (which I very much do at this moment), I can smile and enjoy the sensation of getting to feel like a hungover pile of shit. Here’s to many more moments like these.
or Monday did anyway.
I shouldn’t have weighed myself this morning. That’s always a bad idea. Ugh.
I have issues. I get it. Let’s move on.
I have a Xanax hangover today because Sunday night anxiety was eating at me and then I received a message from a dear friend who is dying because of fucking cancer and I just fucking cant. I finally wrote him a goodbye message (which I had been putting off because then this is real) and it killed a tiny part of my heart. Fuck cancer. Fuck it so fucking hard.
I can’t deal with that right now. And that makes me feel like shit because he doesn’t get to not deal with it. His family doesn’t get to not deal with it.
My face is all red and swollen from much crying last night. My head hurts.
But seriously, thankful as fuck for Xanax.
I have deadlines to meet today and I’m not fucking feeling it. Not even a little bit.
But at the same time, I’m thankful as fuck to have woken up today healthy, happy (in a general sense), and loved. You have to make every day count.
My stomach hurts like all the time and it’s freaking me out. I’m convinced it’s cancer related, like mets or something. I went to urgent care in January over this same pain and they ran a bunch of tests, did a scan, and told me no evidence of cancer. Just evidence of ovarian cysts. It’s most likely a gallbladder problem, or maybe an ulcer, but once you have had cancer, every ache or pain becomes OMFG my cancer is back. It’s fucking exhausting, honestly.
On top of that, this move has kicked my ass. I’m making good progress on setting everything up, but it’s slow going, and I’m tired. I’m also not sleeping well here because my anxiety is flaring. I’m planning on popping a xanax tonight because I’m over it.
So I guess I need to make an appointment with the new doctor my insurance decided to assign as my primary when they changed my policy to save themselves money. Everything requires a fucking referral now, and they treat me like a piece of shit because they consider my insurance to be Medicaid, despite the fact that I pay $600 per month for it. I know I should be grateful to have coverage at all, but really the ACA just took away the right to discriminate against pre-existing conditions and was like: here’s some super expensive insurance that almost no decent doctor will accept. Good luck.
If you fake cancer to scam people into giving you money, your punishment should be chemo and radiation.
I woke up twice in the middle of the night and completely freaked out because I had no idea where I was. I was in my own bed. It was so crazy.
Then this morning I woke up almost hyperventilating because of a
dream nightmare in which I was told I had cervical cancer.
Oh and I feel like absolute shit on top of all that nonsense.
Sounds like a Xanax kind of morning.
I had to visit the Siteman Cancer Center today for a follow-up with my oncologist. I hadn’t been there since August, and I was filled with dread (plus a touch of nausea) as I walked in the doors. Labs first. Doctor second. It felt kind of weird to have a blood draw there without having a port, though I certainly didn’t miss the horrible taste and smell associated with flushing the port.
My blood work is perfect. There are no signs of recurrence. My doc said we won’t be doing any scans unless the blood work indicates a problem. I was a bit concerned about this at first, but he stated that regular blood work is a much more reliable indicator of a possible recurrence. If my blood work shows abnormalities, then we scan.
He told me I can keep my Mirena IUD, even though my gyno wants it out. He believes it isn’t doing any harm, and may be actually doing some good.
He’s pleased that I don’t have any significant Tamoxifen side effects. He felt my new boobs, which he says look great (haha), and gave me the all clear.
All of the nurses made a huge deal about how much they love my hair and claim that I should have short hair forever and ever. Apparently I have a “pixie face.”
He changed his mind about Enbrel. He doesn’t want me on it unless the circumstances are dire. Since I am still able to function normally most of the time, he wants me to suck it up. He says taking it will most likely increase the risk of recurrence, though he cannot say by how much. This made me unhappy, but I get it. I really do. I’m just disappointed because I’m so tired of being in pain EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY.
Overall, it was a good visit. I go back in three months. All of them want to put me in permanent menopause, but I keep saying no, and will continue to refuse it. I did appreciate that he told me he understands, that he knows I’ve had a lot taken from me this last year, and he doesn’t blame me at all.