Hey friends,
It’s been a whirlwind the last few weeks. Lots of waiting, then another doctor’s appointment or test then more waiting and so on. The waiting sucks the most. Especially when you have the worst news - yes, it’s cancer - but not much else. All the doctors have told me not to Google anything. Of course. But holy shit, that’s a hard thing to stay away from when all you’re looking for are answers.
So, after a few weeks, we now have somewhat of a roadmap for the treatment plan. There are still some big decisions to make in the near future, but the pieces are starting to come in to place.
Before all that, let me answer a few questions/add a few thoughts (I do so love my bulleted lists):
Yes, it is super weird to have SO MUCH conversation about my boobs. I’m getting over it real fast because there’s really no way around it. But it’s super fucking weird. The number of strangers (of course medical professionals, but still, strangers) who have seen my boobs in the last few weeks is astounding. But, here we are.
My already fairly healthy usage of swear words seems to have gone up. Sorry not sorry. If ever there was a situation that calls for abundant use of the f-word, this is it. Also, to whomever is reading this to Grandma, please censor liberally.
I vacillate wildly between a total “let’s do this” kick-ass kind of attitude and fighting off a massive feeling of impending doom laced with pessimism. I’m sure this is normal and I feel sure that this will continue so I’m trying to give myself space for all of that and everything in between. I know this is healthy and the only way through. It’s also exhausting.
So, what we know so far is that I’ll have to have significant surgery, which is not yet scheduled. This means potentially a double mastectomy (ref: big decisions I mentioned earlier) then 4-6 weeks of recovery and then chemotherapy for about four months. (Four fucking 🖕🏻months.)
Won’t know whether radiation is necessary until after the surgery. We know that there is some lymph node involvement which makes things longer-term a bit more complicated. The risk of developing lymphedema is there and a big concern if it ever develops because it’s a permanent condition. At my age, that could be a big quality of life issue. I’ll also be on hormone therapy after all of this for somewhere between 5-10 years. It’s actually great that this is an option because it reduces the risk of this cancer coming back by quite a bit.
Multiple doctors have looked me straight in the eye and told me that “this is curable.” Which makes me cry. Every time. But they also consider this to be cured when I’m 10 years out. That feels a long way away. The same doctors also talk about the “rest of my life” as being 60 years from now. That seems unusually generous to me, but I am learning that I need to accept all of their hard-earned medical opinions and knowledge. And I know that they aren’t the type to blow smoke.
Anyway, I’m trying to keep this fairly high level so I’ll leave it there for now. I’m getting a crash life course in dealing with uncertainty. Thanks for muddling through the muck with me.
There’s so much more to share. And I will. Feel free to follow as much or as little as you’d like. A friend said this is part of my grand-master Millennial plan to make him finally read a blog. Though I am most definitely Gen X, I’ll take it anyway. :) Click here if you want to get an email when a new blog post goes up.
Thank you so much for the calls, texts, and emails. Even if I don’t respond right away, or sometimes at all (I’ve had a little trouble keeping up) please know how much it means to me to hear from you. Please keep our whole family in your thoughts. We’re doing okay so far. And also sometimes not.
Love you all,
Me
I wanted to include a picture of myself to show you that I’m still here and (mostly) still smiling. I look a bit tired but that’s also legit.
Also figured it doesn’t hurt to capture the good hair days while I still have them for a while. :)