Three weeks ago I went once again to another appointment to where it all began.
This time a very hopeful and quick mammogram - the yearly one that I will be invited to every April until I'm 50.
Went back a week later to be seen by the surgeon to have a chat and the results. To my surprise, it wasn't the surgeon that was waiting me. As much as I love Dr W. I know she's never a carrier of good news, and I only realised this when I walked in the room with her and the words "I wasn't expecting to see you" came out of my mouth. - Wait! Dr. W is the consultant Radiologist. She's the one who saw my scans and perhaps wants to discuss them a bit further instead of a "all good you can go, see you next year" kind of thing. - For a split second I didn't know what to feel, but as charming as Dr W. is she instantly explained the situation. They found something in the scan, but the previous mammogram they have is pre-surgery and as the tissues inside have been moved and scar tissue has been formed, it's hard to see what's good and what's not. For this they are trained to think the worst. To act quick. To save our lives. I did explain that since my surgery I had this blob of scar tissue that doesn't allow me to have full range of movement of my arm, and for one she said it was good that I hadn't felt any changes, but we still had to check. Obviously there was tears, I wasn't expecting this. I was expecting a 5 min appointment where someone would say everything is ok.
Going into the ultrasound/biopsy room again is my worst nightmare as brings so many bad memories. The panic is always there, the "what if's" become so real. They need to start giving a heads up -"On your first scan there's 90% chances you'll be called back because the scar tissue looks like cancer in mammograms and we need to be sure" - If no one ever told you this, here's me paying my good deed to the world.
Turns out my big annoying scar does look like cancer but fortunately it's just a scar! Phew! - That's that worry gone!!!
Another thing I've been worrying about thought, is the risk of lymphoedema, I live in a terrible fear that it might happen. Around a month or so ago I woke up with a swollen chest, full of indents from the bed sheets and, as it's natural, I panicked. After a conversation with breast care nurse and reassurance from the doctor on my results appointment, it's been said that it is definitely oedema but more caused by tissue damaged from radiotherapy. Apparently it is one of the side effects from it, so I will have to cope with it. For how long? 6 months to 2 years is how long radiotherapy effects can linger in your body! - Oh great! - Any tips to avoid it? Lay on the other side so there's not that much fluid build up on that side - Oh and have a terrible and broken night sleep because you'll be constantly thinking about what side you're laying on (as if you didn't have enough sleep issues already with a wondering mind).
Being on this side of the endless tunnel, I can safely say the cancer journey is more difficult when it comes to an end. At least for most people is.
When I was faced with the diagnose, although I didn't really wanted to believe it, I kinda did what I always do in difficult situations: get on with it until you finish it, so then you can relax.
Perhaps that was the best way to deal with it for a very long time: don't think, just do it. So my soul just travelled through treatment and life for 10 whole months. And then it stopped. Do you know what happens when you suddenly do an emergency stop? Everything stays still. And your body feels numb with the adrenaline, you can't breath, you CAN'T relax! - This was me for the last 3 months.
I went through a very dark place. Questioned everything and everyone. Made life a little bit miserable for the person that had been there for me during every pain and every smile. Made life miserable for myself. I've realised I blocked so many memories that sometimes I go back to and think "how did I even manage that?" I stopped being the cheerful person I've always known to be this dark soul just floating around pretending to live a life among the living. I had nothing to look forward to, nothing to be happy about, nothing I was proud of. Only anger. There's still some of it remaining, but it comes and goes, in pair with gratitude. I'm now thankful for so many things and starting to feel the joys of life. I'm back to work and I've got my purpose again. I'm reconnecting with M and with myself. I'm finding my life again and my routines, learning the new me, the new us.
We can now understand how much cancer can affect a relationship. It's not just the physical side of things, it's the mental strain, the goals that change, the beliefs, the daily life. It's an atomic bomb that gets dropped and you are both left with the pieces to glue back together without the picture of what it was before. It's facing a future of uncertainty but still want to face it together. This either makes you or breaks you. And it's ok both ways. You just have to learn to accept the new reality. - M and I are in the process.
I'll be honest that around four months ago I started hating the hair growth and wanted to keep cutting it as it made me comfortable. But my twisted mind also wants my long hair to come quick. So I decided to put up with it - not get over it because I still hate it. No matter how much people say they love my short hair and that I rock it, I don't think I do. I don't recognise myself in the mirror, can't get used to style it, it's not practical and it gives me grief every morning.
And again, I'm grateful I've got hair, but angry that have to go through a hair growth process I didn't ask for.
Post cancer life is not full of smiles and celebrations as people might think. It's a constant struggle between the life you had and the life you have. The adjustments, the tiredness, the worries, the hopes and the dreams.
P.x
This time a very hopeful and quick mammogram - the yearly one that I will be invited to every April until I'm 50.
Went back a week later to be seen by the surgeon to have a chat and the results. To my surprise, it wasn't the surgeon that was waiting me. As much as I love Dr W. I know she's never a carrier of good news, and I only realised this when I walked in the room with her and the words "I wasn't expecting to see you" came out of my mouth. - Wait! Dr. W is the consultant Radiologist. She's the one who saw my scans and perhaps wants to discuss them a bit further instead of a "all good you can go, see you next year" kind of thing. - For a split second I didn't know what to feel, but as charming as Dr W. is she instantly explained the situation. They found something in the scan, but the previous mammogram they have is pre-surgery and as the tissues inside have been moved and scar tissue has been formed, it's hard to see what's good and what's not. For this they are trained to think the worst. To act quick. To save our lives. I did explain that since my surgery I had this blob of scar tissue that doesn't allow me to have full range of movement of my arm, and for one she said it was good that I hadn't felt any changes, but we still had to check. Obviously there was tears, I wasn't expecting this. I was expecting a 5 min appointment where someone would say everything is ok.
Going into the ultrasound/biopsy room again is my worst nightmare as brings so many bad memories. The panic is always there, the "what if's" become so real. They need to start giving a heads up -"On your first scan there's 90% chances you'll be called back because the scar tissue looks like cancer in mammograms and we need to be sure" - If no one ever told you this, here's me paying my good deed to the world.
Turns out my big annoying scar does look like cancer but fortunately it's just a scar! Phew! - That's that worry gone!!!
Another thing I've been worrying about thought, is the risk of lymphoedema, I live in a terrible fear that it might happen. Around a month or so ago I woke up with a swollen chest, full of indents from the bed sheets and, as it's natural, I panicked. After a conversation with breast care nurse and reassurance from the doctor on my results appointment, it's been said that it is definitely oedema but more caused by tissue damaged from radiotherapy. Apparently it is one of the side effects from it, so I will have to cope with it. For how long? 6 months to 2 years is how long radiotherapy effects can linger in your body! - Oh great! - Any tips to avoid it? Lay on the other side so there's not that much fluid build up on that side - Oh and have a terrible and broken night sleep because you'll be constantly thinking about what side you're laying on (as if you didn't have enough sleep issues already with a wondering mind).
Being on this side of the endless tunnel, I can safely say the cancer journey is more difficult when it comes to an end. At least for most people is.
When I was faced with the diagnose, although I didn't really wanted to believe it, I kinda did what I always do in difficult situations: get on with it until you finish it, so then you can relax.
Perhaps that was the best way to deal with it for a very long time: don't think, just do it. So my soul just travelled through treatment and life for 10 whole months. And then it stopped. Do you know what happens when you suddenly do an emergency stop? Everything stays still. And your body feels numb with the adrenaline, you can't breath, you CAN'T relax! - This was me for the last 3 months.
I went through a very dark place. Questioned everything and everyone. Made life a little bit miserable for the person that had been there for me during every pain and every smile. Made life miserable for myself. I've realised I blocked so many memories that sometimes I go back to and think "how did I even manage that?" I stopped being the cheerful person I've always known to be this dark soul just floating around pretending to live a life among the living. I had nothing to look forward to, nothing to be happy about, nothing I was proud of. Only anger. There's still some of it remaining, but it comes and goes, in pair with gratitude. I'm now thankful for so many things and starting to feel the joys of life. I'm back to work and I've got my purpose again. I'm reconnecting with M and with myself. I'm finding my life again and my routines, learning the new me, the new us.
We can now understand how much cancer can affect a relationship. It's not just the physical side of things, it's the mental strain, the goals that change, the beliefs, the daily life. It's an atomic bomb that gets dropped and you are both left with the pieces to glue back together without the picture of what it was before. It's facing a future of uncertainty but still want to face it together. This either makes you or breaks you. And it's ok both ways. You just have to learn to accept the new reality. - M and I are in the process.
And again, I'm grateful I've got hair, but angry that have to go through a hair growth process I didn't ask for.
Post cancer life is not full of smiles and celebrations as people might think. It's a constant struggle between the life you had and the life you have. The adjustments, the tiredness, the worries, the hopes and the dreams.
P.x
reat work buddy,For the more information you can visit on After Surgery Tips
ReplyDelete