Today I had a follow up three monthly appointment with my surgeon. I made the comment that I seem to be getting cleavage from my left breast (which is no more) and he had a look. Warning, warning, warning bells! So in one sentence my morning turned upside down - "I think we should biopsy that lump".
Off I go to Lakes Radiology for an ultra sound with the potential for a biopsy. I saw the same consultant who did my January scan and he recognised me. I told him, "tell me if you see anything, I want to know". Thankfully it was decided I didn't need the biopsy as he could see nothing sinister in the scans. He asked what else he could do for me and I said "please scan my right breast for peace of mind" - and he did.
Now I thought I would be okay with all that happened this morning. I had Luke with me in support and I'm so glad he was there. We were able to go through the raft of emotions together and the 'what ifs' in a matter of two hours.
But I'm not okay really because once again I went into panic mode, my stomach was flipping, I went into the 'I will have to give up work if I have more chemo', etc etc. If Luke hadn't been there I probably would have had a melt down but I had to be brave for him.
I don't want to have a melt down but I am feeling on edge. I am so scared to write this blog for what others will think of me and my weakness. I know how I should be and I know how others want me to be, and I know so many of you will have words of wisdom, yet my brain is playing a different tune. I am in awe watching my fellow cancer mates get on with their lives, how stoic they are and the joy I see in them. I have claimed back "joy" and that is my new daily journal entry right now.
But it hasn't stopped me freaking out.
Yes I saw the trauma psychologist and that helped heaps. But today I have gone into the dark hole all because of a few words.
I haven't written a blog for a long time because medically speaking I am where I should be in recovery. Tamoxifen meds is a bitch of a drug, but if it is keeping the cancer at bay, then I need to take it. I asked if I could take a break now and then and I was told no, never. Shame.
Mentally speaking this is all of a challenge for me. Some days I rise to the challenge, other days I don't. So when reminders of cancer come knocking, like
- getting dressed each morning and thinking I look like the One-Eyed Minion
- buying a silky chamise because my remaining boob heads East and my tops all go with it so trying to find a solution (other than a pin)
- walking with a cane in town because I am so unstable and yet I look perfectly alright
- the doctor keeping an extra special eye on me and sending me for tests
I am struggling to rise to the challenge.
When I think back to last year, that was physically demanding and yet my body coped. This year, my mind is my illness and learning how to put a bandaid on it without it still 'bleeding' is Wayne and my challenge. I say Wayne's too as he sees the real me that I don't want the rest of the world to see.
So not much joy in this blog, but I'm telling it like it is. Cancer is not just chemo, radiation and meds. It is mentally and emotionally getting through the trauma to body and mind, it is learning how to view and work with a physically changed body, and how to face the challenges of the mind games. All incredibly powerful individually and yet put it all together and deal with it all at the same time, well I am not as strong as others, and that's okay, I'm wisely told. I apologise for letting the mask down, but this is me - raw and bleeding, crying and smiling, joyful and resentful, grateful and alone, anxious and calm, peaceful and hostile...so many emotions to ride out.
