Three Years

Not that I usually worry about these things but I just got the results  from my most recent scans: a chest CT and leg MRI. Everything is all clear and while I usually say I’m not worried it’s always a relief when they find nothing. Also of note, I’ve been cancer free for over three years now which feels particularly good because it was less than three years between the two. Hopefully, it will be a very long time before cancer finds me again. Better if it never does. In the meantime, I’ll just keep walking and hope that I stay a step ahead. 

Feeling grateful to be alive. 

Today

Today, I celebrate being three years cancer free. Congratulations to me and to everyone else who is surviving, thriving, or was a caregiver to someone who is.

Courage to those going through it now. 

Another dance with cancer.

I started this blog with back pain. Thus the name of the blog - back(b)log. It was a blog (or a log) chronicling my experience with intense back pain. I had a lot of readers then but it didn't create the community I had hoped to. I was experiencing something awful and I wanted to connect with other people who could empathize and understand what I was going through.

Instead, I learned to write and make people laugh, of all things.

Laughter is good medicine.

Then, I got breast cancer. I didn't write about that as much and I sure as hell didn't promote my blog posts on Facebook like I did with the back pain. I don't know why I isolated with the breast cancer. I remember the things I told myself back then but I haven't had any therapy about it so I'm not sure why, exactly, I was so intensely private about it.

I figured if anyone read what I wrote, then fine, but no one ever commented or said anything to me about it. It wasn't one of those viral stories of resilience and bravery except only to me and those who are closest to me and that was fine.

For whatever reason, I glanced at the last two posts on back(b)log dated January 6, 2022, and February 20, 2022. The January entry celebrated the start of a new year and a hope that after six surgeries related to breast cancer and reconstruction, that I would have a surgery-free year.

It was not.

The February entry celebrated the passing of six months since my last surgery. 

In the time between the January post and the February one, I had found a lump. This time, in the back of my right thigh. By May, it was the size of a baseball.

But in February, the lump was small and I didn't have a diagnosis which didn't come for another five months. It was undifferentiated pleomorphic sarcoma (UPS) - a rare, aggressive type of soft tissue cancer. In July, I started radiation. In October, I had my seventh surgery in three and a half years.

I am now over two years cancer free. I had zero surgeries in 2023 and 2024 was the first year I didn't drain my HSA account.

Am I anxious about it coming back? Some days, absolutely. But that's part of why I walk so much. I used walking to get ready for all those surgeries and I walked to help in my recovery from them. I also walk for my mental health and to manage stress.

It's just ironic to look back on this blog and see how I was celebrating survival just as I was in the process of discovering I had cancer again. But life goes on and I'm part of the living so that's what I'm celebrating now.

Six Months

 It's been six months since my sixth surgery. All's well so far.

Off to a good start

 One week into the new year and all is well, boobwise. I had an MRI the last week of December and that came back "all clear." So, there's that.

I've had three years of surgery during two years of COVID. I would just like one year off for good behavior. (At least!)

I'm looking at you, 2022.

Surviving

 I fired my plastic surgeon on Friday. It was my third post-op appointment and everything continues to be healing just fine. I learned (only after my sixth surgery) that the first three follow up appointments are free if completed within 90 days. It was said as an aside, not a statement of policy. I've paid a lot of money to this doctor because this wasn't made clear earlier. I insisted that this last appointment occur before the 90 days expired. Sorry to be a pain in the ass, but y'all have been a pain in my boob. And my wallet.

He wants to do more. He is, after all, a plastic surgeon. He reminded me, as he does at every meeting, that it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and asked if I had changed my mind about additional plastic surgery. I declined saying it (the results) were good enough and I wanted to be done. 

He seemed to understand and acknowledged that it had been a long road for me. He wished me well and told me to say hello to Hubby and then asked his assistant to book another follow appointment for six months from now.

I told him no, this was the end of the road for me. He didn't try to talk me out of it. If he had any concerns that I needed continued monitoring, he did not express them other than an recommendation to follow up with an oncologist. (I tried but getting medical records proved to be such a hassle that I'm putting it off until the new year. However, I have made an appointment with my GP and we will make a plan for follow up care for the rest of this year: either a mammogram or an MRI.)

I have come to like this man but it hasn't erased everything I've been through. Just in my time with this doctor, I've had three surgeries, miscommunications, appointments when I've been kept waiting for over an hour, billing errors (still unresolved), debt collection - and all of it during COVID when Hubby couldn't always be at my side.

I'm 2.5 years cancer free. I'm not a survivor, I'm surviving as best I can. And that's all any of us can do.

Pink