On the actual day of the anniversary of my surgery, July 9, I did nothing but reflect on the past year and all I'd been through. At first, I felt a little disappointed that I didn't receive stacks of cards in the mail, or flowers, or phone calls, or something...anything to let me know that someone actually remembered that this day was the one year mark of my life after cancer. But as the day progressed, I was thankful for no intrusions into my privacy. I needed a day of solitude more than I realized. It took a lot out of me to comprehend everything that had transpired in the last 365 days of my life. The more I thought about each event and how it was handled, the more mentally exhausted I became. I'd been through a heck of a lot and I hadn't even been able to absorb all of it until I took time to just be still and reflect.
When I first began to think about the events of last year, I had to pull up my blog. My memory isn't as sharp as it used to be and being able to re-read my entries helped jog my memory. As I read the very first entry in my blog, it all became vivid in my mind.
I continued reading blog entries until I came to the entry about surgery being set up. Remembering how I felt back then can be described in two words, "sheer panic." I really had no idea what I was in for when I wrote that blog post. Even though the breast surgeon had explained what I should expect, I wish I'd been able to talk to a breast cancer survivor who'd experienced everything I was going to experience. I think I would have been better prepared if I'd been able to ask the questions I needed to ask and know that I was going to get real answers from someone who'd experienced this type of surgery first hand. I would have been better equipped to understand the level of pain and the emotional turmoil the surgery would bring...but maybe it was better that I hadn't had that opportunity. If I'd known exactly how things were going to go, would I have continued on with the surgery? I think I probably would not have!
My entry on July 10th, the day after surgery, while I was home recovering, reminded me of how funny I looked. I had two of the ugliest clear plastic bomb looking contraptions hanging from my chest and those nasty things were to collect the fluid and blood that drained from my surgical sites. Oh how they hurt and pulled and tugged! Those drains were more painful than even the huge scars across my chest and I remembered why...Dr. Sroka had told me that when she removed my breasts, they'd have to slice into my chest wall and sever all of the nerve endings there. She reminded me it would take months and even years before the feeling there ever returned. To this day, one year and a few days later, my chest wall is still numb.
As I kept reading and traveling back into the past year, the entry that was the hardest to write, is now the hardest to read. When I wrote that entry, I was in the depths of despair and I was really struggling. My emotions were so raw and the wounds from surgery were so fresh and so deep. A year of healing has made huge changes in the way I view myself both physically and emotionally but intimacy continues to be a challenge. I am so thankful I have a husband who loves and respects me and never demands a thing from me. He is always patient and kind. He is loving and respectful and treasures me as his wife. I don't know if other men would have reacted the way he has to me. I imagine many marriages were not able to survive the after effects of breast cancer surgery. It takes a very different sort of man to be constantly patient and loving even when his needs are not being met and many men just can't process that.
When I re-read the entry about the day I got my new boobs, I remembered going to the store in Fayetteville to be fitted for my new prostheses. It was a humiliating experience but since that day last year, I've exchanged those first heavy boobs for a much smaller, lighter pair. The new ones are so much closer to my natural state and they aren't nearly as heavy as the first pair I received. I can actually laugh at the thought of those first boobs. They were humongous! The fitter thought they were a size A but when I went back to have a different fitter help me choose some smaller boobs, she looked at them and said, "honey, there is no way these are an A! They are a D!" I'll never forget the day she told me that. No wonder those suckers were so heavy!
I struggled with many things that first year and intimacy was just one of them. I also struggled with Agoraphobia - the fear of being out in public away from the safety of my home. As I read this entry again, I was reminded how those first days, weeks, and months challenged me. I was struggling with my new body image and was afraid to be seen the way I was. I felt safer at home and that's where I chose to stay the majority of the time. Now, after a year of healing, I'm becoming more comfortable going out. Sometimes I put on my boobs and sometimes I don't. If I'm going to be in a public setting, where I'll encounter others, I usually put on my prostheses because I find I feel more self confident with my boobs on. If I'm just going for a ride in the car or visiting family, I don't need the "security" of having my boobs on and often choose to go without them...especially in the hot Summer time! I've also found that if I sprinkle "Shower to Shower" body powder all over my chest, the prostheses don't feel so hot and sticky. The powder keeps the silicone in the breast forms from sweating and sliding around in my mastectomy bra.
Radiation was a big challenge. When treatments first began, it was a piece of cake. I did get more and more tired as treatments went along, but they were fairly easy to deal with...that is, until I started to get burned. When my skin suffered severe burns, radiation became almost unbearable. I even had to stop treatments several times for a week or two at a time because the burns were so severe. This entry tells a little about that time.
In October of last year, I took time to write a letter to my cancerous tumor. I know that seems really weird but I just felt like I needed to do it. It was cathartic as I wrote down my feelings. You can read about it here.
One of my November posts told about my difficulties being on oral chemotherapy. I was prescribed Arimidex and took it for a couple of weeks before deciding it wasn't worth all the side effects I was going through at the time to continue taking it. I talked to my Oncologist and told him about the terrible way it was making me feel and I also told him in no uncertain terms that I was NOT going to continue taking that drug. I was amazed at how bold and brazen I'd become. In the past, I would have never spoken to a doctor in this way. I guess I realized I had the right to speak up for myself and I did.
After coming off of the Arimidex, the doctor wanted me to try Tamoxifen. That drug has been around a long time and was a proven estrogen blocker. My mother in law had been on it while she was going through breast cancer treatment. This blog post tells a little about what was going on at that time.
In December of last year, I had my 6 month check up with my breast surgeon. As I re-read that entry, I had to smile. My breast surgeon is really awesome. She's smart and funny and caring. I am so thankful I found her because I don't think I would have had such good results with another surgeon. Dr. Sroka was very aggressive in my treatment and she found cancer in one of my lymph nodes as she performed my surgery too. I still suffer ill effects from having lymphatic glands removed (6 in total) but, I'm still here and that's amazing!
In January, I wrote about the new plan the oncologist had for me after I returned from my trip to Texas. I was supposed to start on a new estrogen blocking drug, Aromasin, but after a lot of prayer, I decided against it. I'm so glad I did. I have felt better without being on any kinds of chemotherapy and have shifted my focus to natural methods of cancer treatment. You can read about reactions to my decision here.
In March, I lost a dear friend to breast cancer. Although we'd never met in person, we'd corresponded via emails and texts. Kara was a woman of faith and ministered greatly to me during my journey. That day, I realized that breast cancer is serious business. It is no respecter of persons. It comes to steal, kill, and destroy. Kara's death made me decide to fight even harder to live and to be here for my family. Since her death, I've had an opportunity to share my experience with others who are just recently diagnosed. That's one thing about breast cancer that others might not understand...it means so much more to get information from someone who's walked through the valley than from a spectator standing on the hill looking down into the valley. That's what Kara did for me and that's what I hope to do for others. You can read about the day I learned of Kara's death here.
Traveling on through last year, I came across this post I'd written toward the end of April. It tells about the constant fear I dealt with about always wondering if the cancer might return. That's something I struggle with today. Every new ache, every new pain makes me wonder...could it be???? It's hard to get past that feeling because recurrence is a very real fact and the odds are great that a secondary cancer will occur. That 5 year survival rate that the doctors give when you're first diagnosed doesn't help much either. I know God is in control but sometimes, the little voice of fear gets really loud and it's hard to squelch it.
As I continued to remember all I'd been through and all the blessings I'd received since my diagnosis, this post reminded me how important it was to revisit the past. So many people reached out to me through cards and letters. I've saved every single one of them! My plan is to put them all into a scrapbook so I can have them to look through whenever I'm feeling down. God brought so many sweet people into my life and I am so grateful for all of them. While most of the cards and letters have stopped, occasionally, I'll still get one in the mail and it usually comes at the perfect time...on a day when I've felt extremely lonely or sad, or on a day when I'm just struggling with feeling cared about or loved. God always knows when I need a little pick me up and He sends it through friends like you.
Last month, I lost my very best friend. In this post, you can read about our last day together. That was one of the hardest days I've faced in a while. To this day, I still haven't heard what caused Gerri's death and it really bothers me. It's so hard when someone you love dies unexpectedly but it also helps you realize how very short our lives are and how we need to really focus on living one day at a time, one moment at a time.
If you've read my blog from day one, you've read a huge portion of my life. In one year, I've written almost every single day and sometimes, more than once a day. I'm a writer. I love to write. It's what I do. Capturing those thoughts on paper had helped me process what I was thinking or feeling at a specific moment in time. I've become my own therapist by focusing not only on my own thoughts and feelings, but by listening to what God's shared into my heart. As I've read the Bible and poured out my heart to Him, He's given me great peace and comfort. He's been my best friend and my constant companion. I don't know how I would have ever gotten through all the challenges I've faced this past year without my faith.
So today, one year and 3 days since the date of my breast cancer surgery, I give thanks. I am so blessed to be alive today. I am so blessed to have a husband who loves me dearly and family who support me. I'm so blessed to have good doctors who care about me and want to see me succeed. I am so blessed to have friends who pray for me, fight for me, and encourage me when I need it most. I am proud to claim the title of breast cancer survivor. I know there are many of us out there and many more to come in the future. My hope and my prayer is that neither you, nor anyone you know or love will ever face hearing the words "you have cancer." Those three words can turn a life upside down in a split second. Maybe one day, we'll find a cure but until then, all we can do is continue to hope and continue to love. God bless you all and thank you for continuing to care enough about me to continue following and reading my blog. I am very honored and grateful.
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