Life after Cancer

Gosh, it's been a while. The call to update my blog has been gnawing at me for a while. It's been 6 months! To be fair I have three unfinished drafts saved that I will probably never post. At first my excuse was that I was adjusting to being finished with chemo, attempting to live life again. Too busy! But I was committed to my blog before cancer. I don't know. I just know that today it had to happen. I had to write. I'm going through something that I always knew would freak my shit if it ever happened. I have an ultrasound tomorrow to look at a strange area on what is left of my natural breast (the skin) My plastic surgeon found it in yesterday's appointment. And today I have committed the shameful torturous act of Internet research. I am rendered frazzled and frantic, having conversations with myself and everyone around me, in a desperate attempt to calm my nerves. I couldn't manage to make my grocery list and I walked around in circles for 15 minutes, trying to decide if I should take off my pants or get into bed fully clothed to write this blog. 

That's today.

If you are reading this, you might be curious about the happenings during my 6 month blog absence.  I will summarize. I started running after I lost my first reconstruction. It made me feel like a champion. I even wrote an inspirational blog post, reveling in my body's ability to heal itself, which I never published. I started dancing on Sundays. We went on an amazing vacation to Kauai. I ran on the beach! I interviewed plastic surgeons from San Antonio to Round Rock, chose one and made a huge decision about reconstruction. I cancelled my surgery. I rescheduled it. I started reconstruction over again. I sadly had to quit running to heal from surgery. That may have thrown me into a depression. I turned 35. On the Eve of my birthday I realized I had a little PTSD, something I arrogantly swore that I would never experience because I would deal with it all as it comes, staring down my demons one by one. Ha! I had my last herceptin infusion. I got my port taken out. I have been making plans with my wife to get married legally in California! (More on that later...yay!). I had another surgery (recon phase 2, take 2). My hair isn't growing back like I thought it would. I've lost most of my eyebrows and eyelashes after treatment was over and they haven't grown back in. I feel like I look like baby or an old man. I learned that these are things that may never be the same.

 And now I'm in the midst of my first "scare" after diagnosis/treatment. It is strange to have this feeling again; mind buzzing, humming anxiety. This insatiable hunger for cake and pizza against all rules of acute nervousness (I never lost my appetite for food, even during chemo...this girl likes to chow.) In short,this blog post is a way of controlling my meltdown. It's tough to admit that a year and a half after my diagnosis I am experiencing the same paralyzing fear that I did when I found that fateful lump. I wanted to move beyond fear. In the throes of chemotherapy I had this sense of having the strength to endure anything after what I was going through, because it was so hard. But sitting here thinking about my upcoming ultrasound, I am struck by the relativity of these situations. It's all fucking scary. It never gets easier.  Surgeries, hair loss, permanent bodily changes, friends with recurrences, fears of  recurrence..THIS IS life "after cancer." Like my survivor sister told me this afternoon..."I feel sad for you because you're realizing now that this is never over or behind us." She said this to me after I said the same thing to Kayla over breakfast in so many words.  All the while we have been waiting for it to come to a close of some kind. 

I'm starving.