Editor's note: For some women the end of breast cancer treatment means a return to business as usual, for others it's the start of a new phase in life. But as Deb points out, we can find ourselves facing the future solo.
Suzanne
On December 28th, I finally finished radiation. It seemed so symbolic to be finishing treatment while the year was ending. I was so excited to kiss my year from hell good-bye and kiss my best year ever hello.
Wow. I never thought I would say this, crazy as it seems, but I kind of almost miss being in treatment. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I miss the treatments themselves. I don't. In a way, it was all very safe and mindless. I just did whatever they told me to do. So many doctors. So many appointments. All I had to do was show up and strip from the waist up. I was shot up, cut up and felt up, but all the while, lots of people were interested in how I was doing. Every little symptom was investigated. Although it all seemed very urgent and serious, it was also very comforting. I had a safety net.
Radiation increased the momentum. Months of weekly appointments turned into weeks of daily appointments and then POOF. It's all gone. Now i sit here with an empty calendar. I won't see another doctor until the middle of March. It's almost like going cold turkey.
There's no one there telling me what to do. I'm on my own. I struggle with the fear of a recurrence. Am I doing everything that I can to keep cancer away?
Where did everyone go?
I'm hoping that these feelings begin to go away. Luckily, I'm not completely alone. I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow.
Deb
Suzanne
On December 28th, I finally finished radiation. It seemed so symbolic to be finishing treatment while the year was ending. I was so excited to kiss my year from hell good-bye and kiss my best year ever hello.
Wow. I never thought I would say this, crazy as it seems, but I kind of almost miss being in treatment. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I miss the treatments themselves. I don't. In a way, it was all very safe and mindless. I just did whatever they told me to do. So many doctors. So many appointments. All I had to do was show up and strip from the waist up. I was shot up, cut up and felt up, but all the while, lots of people were interested in how I was doing. Every little symptom was investigated. Although it all seemed very urgent and serious, it was also very comforting. I had a safety net.
Radiation increased the momentum. Months of weekly appointments turned into weeks of daily appointments and then POOF. It's all gone. Now i sit here with an empty calendar. I won't see another doctor until the middle of March. It's almost like going cold turkey.
There's no one there telling me what to do. I'm on my own. I struggle with the fear of a recurrence. Am I doing everything that I can to keep cancer away?
Where did everyone go?
I'm hoping that these feelings begin to go away. Luckily, I'm not completely alone. I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow.
Deb
Well said, Deb. After months of having your life revolve around treatments, it takes a while to regroup and get back to "normal" which will never be like it was, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Remember that in this new dimension, you are never alone.
ReplyDeleteHey this is the perfect time to get to know yourself again. Post Cancer you. The lady who will be able to actually go out and do things now for herself, with out depending on anyone else. Time to re-evaluate what and who is important in your world.
ReplyDeleteI understand missing the proffessionals, who doted on our every breath, but...., now you have a new family, the survivors and your thoughts that can be put across to the newly diagnosed. Your support for them is valuable.
This experience now opens new doors.
But we out here in cyberspace, love the work you are doing here. So you are NOT alone, we are here and watching, waiting each day for the next blog...
Z
Thank you so much for your support!
ReplyDeleteDeb