Today is my last day in the chemo room – my last day of Herceptin treatment. I’m excited for this to be over, and can’t believe it’s been a year. The past few weeks have been full of “one year ago today…” thoughts. I found out about the cancer a year ago September 22nd and my surgery was a year ago on October 5th. This September 22nd I went to a Twins game and an Arcade Fire concert. This October 5th I worked all day and went to a meeting for the Boys & Girls Clubs. What a change in a year.
October is Breast Cancer awareness month, which I realized last year. I had never noticed before that there was a breast cancer month – I didn’t pay attention apparently. I wondered last year if that was the first breast cancer month in history, because how could I not notice it? It’s everywhere! This year, I am hyper aware of pink, pinkness, pink scarves, pink labels, pink ribbons, pink everything. I will always be aware. And I will always be grateful.
A great deal has happened since my last blog post in April – apologies for the long delay. I was so busy living “normally” again and cancer took a back seat to my everyday life, which isn’t quite as interesting. I had work conferences in May, August, and September and spent the summer finishing up my Masters in Business Administration at Hamline University. I submitted my final papers in September and found out last week that all my grades are in and I’m done. So, that wraps up 2 years of grad school and opens up my time a bit. I’m very happy to be done.
Let’s see…
In June, I had genetic testing done to see if I carried the Breast Cancer genes which would indicate that my risk for ovarian cancer was significantly higher. The tests came back negative, which was a great relief. I get to keep the little suckers. Also in June, I had a compression fracture in my arm, which was annoying, but my own fault. On July 16th, I had my reconstructive surgery. They removed the tissue expanders and put in the silicone implants. They are much more comfortable although I’m still getting used to them. My scars are healing nicely, and will be touched up a bit (I hope) this week. I am getting nipples on Wednesday, and the doctor mentioned that he could clean up a few spots that bother me (honestly they aren’t that big of a deal, but they’re mine and I would like them to be as clean as he can get them).
I was debating whether or not to get nipples. I was thinking that I would put them off for awhile, but during an appointment, the doctor said that if we scheduled everything now, I would be completely done by the end of the year. Sold. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted this to all be over until he said I could be done by the end of the year. Done. Finished. It’s hard for me to believe, but I will be passed all the invasive, uncomfortable, and visually obvious aspects of breast cancer and can cycle back into my “normal” life, whatever that will be. It’s been a long time since I wasn’t thinking about cancer, treatments, grad school, work, selling/buying a house, moving, etc.
I keep thinking back to my 30th birthday and how different my life is now. My life itself is almost unrecognizable – my last name is different, my house is different, my body is different, my hair is growing back in a different color and curly, I earned a masters degree. I have new friends that I didn’t know when I was 30. My priorities have shifted a bit – I will continue to learn more as life happens, but there are some core aspects of who I am that have become stronger as well as a few that became less significant. When I think about how the past few years (the last year specifically) have changed me, I feel stronger, more solid. I feel more confident in a myriad of ways, as if I really can do what I put my mind to. So much of it seems to be perspective. I think I have a new perspective on some things – different than what I had a few years ago. I think my 33rd birthday will be my favorite yet.
I met with my oncologist today – he wrote me my third letter. He laid out the future appointment schedule where I will see him every three months for about 2 years, then every 6 months after that. He told me I could get my port out as soon as possible. I knew that would be coming out soon, but sitting in his office, I had a sharp pang of attachment – another thing that would be removed from my body. I had an irrational, sudden need to keep it exactly where it was. I’ve become used to it, attached to it, and familiar with how it feels under my skin. I love the way it makes my treatments so easy and painless and routine. I am going to have to get used to the idea of not needing it anymore. So, I’m getting it out in November. Why am I crying over a port removal?
The nurse just came over. “Wow. You’re totally done!”
I am going to miss everyone who works in the Chemo room – they are amazing people. The patients I have met here have shared stories with me and I believe that my life is richer for knowing them. I came to view my time in this room as my own personal time to simply sit still for while and either get something, or sometimes, nothing done.
Now I’m back at the office, copying this into the box to upload it to the blog. One thing I have realized about myself is that I don’t react or respond to things the way that I think I will.
I had thought about what my reaction would be if they told me it was Cancer – I thought I would stay calm and ask intelligent questions. Instead, when she said Cancer, I felt like I had been hit in the stomach and my head started to spin.
I thought I would miss my natural boobs for the rest of my life and that I would always feel like a part of me was missing. I don’t miss them at all – these new ones are much more convenient and comfortable and sturdy. Love sturdy. I’m still getting used to them, but overall, an improvement.
I had completely prepared myself to lose my composure and freak out when I started pulling my hair out. I thought that would be the moment when I really crumbled. But I didn’t cry at all. It was interesting and affecting, but not terrible.
Today, I thought I would be ecstatic to have my final treatment and get a date for my port to come out. I was so excited. Finally the day is here. But that sudden attachment to my port surprised me. When I got to my car, I cried.
Weird.
My hair is coming back slowly - but surely. I used to have straight blond hair, and now it's dark and curly. I hope the curls stay for awhile - I'm curious to see how they turn out. Either way - I'm glad to have it back.
Life is moving ahead nicely...
