Survivorship

I am a breast cancer survivor. Those words still don’t seem real. I belong to a club of over 3.8 million women who have currently been diagnosed with breast cancer in the United States. My story is not unique and that is devastating. I was one of the lucky ones, stage 1, moderate grade, only a microscopic amount of cancer in one lymph node. While my diagnosis was life altering for not only myself but those close to me, in the cancer world I am boring. A cancer diagnosis is one of those rare instances in life where you actually want to be boring. I tolerated my treatments well and am blessed with an incredible network of family and friends that continue to provide us with love and support as we navigate what life looks like after cancer. And life after a cancer diagnosis is full of ebbs and flows…it’s a strange reality to face.

I find myself struggling to come up with the words to describe survivorship. I went from not worrying enough about health stuff to questioning every tiny unexplained bruise and new pain. My reality of “it’s probably nothing” has shifted to, “it is probably the worst case”. I have a consistent running dialog in my head convincing myself that not everything that happens is cancer. Some days I forget that I had a cancerous tumor that I barely even noticed. Yet this tiny less than 2 cm tumor turned my world upside down! I see a new hairstyle I want to try, forgetting that my hair is still short from losing it all during chemo. Other times it hangs over me like a dark cloud, making me question if it will come back and what that means for me. Will I live to see my children become adults? But then I am reminded that cancer or not no one is guaranteed anything in this life so it's best to live in the moment.

Since I completed my “hard stuff” treatments, chemo and radiation, life has slowly felt like it was getting back to normal. I have less and less days where cancer hits me in the face, so to speak. Although it is still very much a part of my reality. I take a daily medication, visit the oncology center once a month for a shot, see my oncologist for follow ups every 3-6 months, and have a mammogram or an MRI every 6 months. Scanxiety is very real for those of us who are a part of the cancer community. I recently had my first MRI since diagnosis. I kept myself busy the days leading up to the scan and made sure to do something kind for myself the evening after the scan. I felt like I had done all the right things to combat the dreaded scanxiety and convince myself this was no big deal. 24 hours after the MRI my heart sank opening the results in my chart.

“Left Breast: 1.1 cm STIR hyperintense lesion with mild subthreshold rim enhancement…probably benign. Second Look ultrasound of this area is recommended to exclude suspicious sonographic findings.

Right Breast: Post-treatment findings are present with no suspicious abnormal enhancement.”

This is not the worst case. While I should be happy with these results I couldn’t help but feel frustrated that this still is not over. That I didn’t just get the all clear see you next year for your follow up screening. While I feel confident that these results are just as they said “probably benign” it is always a bit of a sting to be reminded that I am still a cancer patient muddling through the aftermath of treatment.

All this to say, I am so very grateful for how far treatments have come. I am thankful for early detection and living in a place where access to quality care is not an obstacle. I feel incredibly lucky to have the support network that we have and I can’t begin to express my gratitude for never feeling alone on this journey. With that being said, this is your friendly reminder:

Self exams are important, report abnormalities, know your risk and advocate for your health!

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