I haven’t made time to write much. This cancer has had me so focused on my treatment, the next steps, what steps are coming up. To catch you up on everything, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in February. I underwent a minor surgery in March to have my port installed. I then started chemo in March. I finished 8 rounds of chemo. I lost my hair. I struggled. I was very sick. After my last chemo in July, I had a unilateral mastectomy the day after my 43rd birthday, September 3rd. A large mass was removed from my left breast. Some small cancer was removed from my lymph nodes in my armpit. I did not heal well from this surgery. One incision revision occurred. I developed a hole in the bottom of my left side where my new implant was placed. After weeks of cleaning, bandaging, check-ups, etc, my surgeon told me that he could see my implant through my open wound and elected to remove it the following day. More surgery. Once the implant was removed, I actually began to feel a lot better.
Radiation came and went. 5 and a half weeks of it. I rang that shit out of that bell when I finished my last treatment. My skin is bright red. It’s healing better than most, I’m told.
I’ve reached another big moment. It’s time to get another set of scans done. This will take place in January. I’m scared. I want to know. Is the cancer still here? Is it lingering? Is it determined to kill me?
Christmas was 2 days ago. As I was putting the finishing touches on the house, an awful thought came to me. Once I packed up all of our Christmas decor for the year, would I be around the following Christmas to unpack it all again? Would my kids have their mom around to try to create the Christmas magic that my husband rolls his eyes over? What if I wasn’t? How could I not be?
I don’t dare tell this to anyone. Why? Because, it’s too much for them. If I even hint at my mortality, I’m met with “Stop!” Or “Don’t think that way!” Or “Don’t you even dare!” But, think about it. I have to at least recognize that this could be something that I might have to deal with sooner than most, right? I have fucking cancer. I get it. This idea can be difficult for people close to me to hear. But, imagine how it feels for me.
It’s safe to say that my kids received quite a bit this year. Perhaps they were a little spoiled. I’m aware that material things won’t make up for watching their mom fight cancer. But a new Xbox and a hover board could certainly create a distraction for a bit. If this was my last Christmas, I went out with a bang. Do I truly believe this is my last? No. My ultimate wish is that my cancer is gone and that it never comes back. My goal is that I make it at least into my 70’s and that I am able to say that I am a survivor.
For now, I can proudly say that I’ve survived so many medically necessary procedures that I never would’ve imagined that I could endure. I don’t know quite yet what to expect from 2022. I guess none of us really do. But, I’m ready to live. I hope I get to for a long time.
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