Coming Back to Life

We are slowly coming back to life. We are all still very sad about my father's death. But his service is finally this weekend. 

At the last minute he decided to donate his body to benefit others. However due to his age, 89, and his cause of death, cancer (love those circulating cancer cells), options were limited. He donated his body to Harvard Medical School for research. They will keep his body for up to two years, but more like 12-18 months and then return his ashes to us. 

In the meantime we are having a celebration of life type service at a local Unitarian church this weekend. The service should provide some sense of closure for all of us and help us start to put our grief behind us. 

However, in the process of putting together the service, all of our emotions are riding high and we are stressed. There are a lot of opinions and thoughts that create some conflict. But I think we will be able to pull this together and start the process of healing. 

One of the reasons I did not discuss my father's health before his death is it was not my story to tell. It was his story. I may have alluded to caring for someone and taking someone to doctor appointments but for the most part I kept it to myself.

I am trying to take care of myself as much as possible. My knee continues to heal. My exhaustion continues to thrive. And when I miss my daily nap, I tend to get cranky and go to bed early. 

When Are We Done Healing and Grieving After A Cancer Diagnosis?

Is there supposed to be a secret moment that you reach and realize that you are done healing and grieving after a cancer diagnosis? I know there are the five stages of grief or whatever where you end up at acceptance. But does that mean you are done healing and grieving and don't carry around your emotional and physical scars?

I think probably after a good 20 or 30 years or so most surgical scars are pretty much invisible but I am not sure about the emotional ones. We carry those around a lot longer. We may reach acceptance but that doesn't mean we are emotional healed. The wounds run very deep.

This summer marks 36 years since my first cancer diagnosis and ten years from my second. Do I feel healed and am done grieving? I don't know. How are we supposed to know?

I am not talking about thinking back to the "what if's", "what if I didn't get cancer?" We can't undo a cancer diagnosis. Its not the physical scars or the loss of body parts.

Its the "how did cancer change me?" If you think about this, before cancer would you have:

• made friends with the same people who you met through your cancer?
• done the same actions - a cancer walk/ride/retreat?
• become an advocate and called your senator regularly?

This is how cancer changed us emotionally. Is the annual cancer walk that you do part of your healing and grieving where you end up being one of the recognized survivors afterwards? Would you have done that same activity? 

I am not sure how well I am explaining my feelings on this but I am not sure we ever get past a cancer diagnosis even if we have reached that 'acceptance' when you went back to that 'new' normal.

Breast Cancer Retrospective

Before my breast cancer diagnosis, I was aware of breast cancer around me. A co-worker's mother, another co-worker's wife, my parent's neighbor, and more. But it never really touched me because no one I knew personally was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a disease of older women. I also felt because I had previously had cancer that sometimes people expected me to be more sympathetic to other's cancer diagnoses. I did feel some guilt because of this.

I never expected to be diagnosed with another cancer. I felt I already had my share of cancer with thyroid cancer. I didn't 'deserve' any more. Because I had a benign breast tumor at age 22, I really did have my share of medical crap. However I got to have a mammogram every year from then. How fun is that!

At age 45, my annual mammogram was scheduled for January - just as I was starting a new job. I pushed it back to early May so I wasn't a new employee who immediately needed time off. I mean it was just a mammogram that I had had for years upon years upon years. No big deal. BUT that was the bad one. They called me back for extra scans and then they sent me for an immediate ultrasound which was bad.

I was in denial. My mammogram was May 8. My recall mammogram was May 14. (I was laid off from my job on May 18.) Then I saw the surgeon May 23 and had a needle biopsy on May 29. I was called on May 31 to get the news that I had breast cancer. Until I got that phone call from my surgeon, I was in denial. I could not have another cancer. No way. No how. Not me!

I stayed in denial for a long time. I did join a support group before my second surgery to make sure I had the emotional support I needed. Once I was diagnosed with cancer a second time, I was not going to let cancer suck anymore time out of my life so I started working on the emotional side of me.

I started getting pissed off. I mean cancer had stolen so much out of my 20s and 30s and early 40s that I wasn't going to let it happen again.

I think I finally got into the grief stage early in chemo when my hair was falling out, I had neutropenia, was hospitalized, and I felt like shit. Seriously the days when my hair was falling out, I was stuck in a hospital bed. I was so sad about how bad I felt and how much my life had changed. I was not happy.

I really struggled during chemo when I had to keep going to chemo and again and again. It was really hard. I love food and love to cook but I spent most of my five months of chemo focusing on keeping food in my stomach, living on the BRAT diet, and running out of rooms due to the aromas rising from plates of food. (But did I lose weight? No!) I was depressed then. I was in a second support group for women with breast cancer. It was designed as an 'introduction to breast cancer' for the newly diagnosed. But I still struggled.

Finally chemo ended and I started radiation and found a therapist. We spent a lot of time discussing the changes cancer makes in your life. I did struggle emotionally but I hoped I had enough support. Then my health started to tank. If you thought I had it bad with breast cancer, my life since then has been a never ending list of medical disaster after medical disaster.

Breast cancer continued to loom over my life. Even though I had a non stop list of medical disasters I considered myself to be a breast cancer patient. Why? Because I identified it that way. I didn't put a pink label on myself but I still thought of myself that way. Somewhere along the way I decided I couldn't let breast cancer identify me. I mean I am not a 'pink warrior' or anything like that.

Was I depressed? Yes because every time I took one step forward, I felt like I slid two steps back. Am I still depressed? I think so. I have to cope every day with the fact that not only was I diagnosed with cancer twice, I no longer can work. I need to plan my life around my limitations. The list of things I can't do is huge. Can I meet friends for shopping or a museum? No. How about out to dinner and a movie? No.

But breast cancer doesn't dominate my life I may not still be in the depression stage from it. So post cancer depression? Maybe not. Maybe I am finally getting to the acceptance stage. Its been a long road. Every mammogram raises my scanxiety level. Again. I am not sure that is ever going away. Every doctor appointment which includes a breast exam gives me a twinge.... I accept that I have breast cancer and that it will loom over me for the rest of my life. 

Its been sad

The last picture before we went to the vet.

On Thursday, we had to put our cat, Shere Khan, to sleep. He was my chemo buddy. I would sit on the couch and watch bad TV and he would snuggle. He was with me through lots of health issues in the last ten years. And he snuggled and cuddled through all of it.

My husband got him in the fall of 2001 shortly after he bought a condo. He went to a dinner party and mentioned that he was thinking about getting a cat. Presto, he went home with a cat. Shortly after, I met them both, three years later we got married and moved into a house together. Then my health started to fall apart and both of them stuck with me. I think he knew when I wasn't doing well and he supported me through it.

He was born in November 1994 which means he was over 20 when he died, old for a cat. We knew he was having health issues in the past few years and his health really went down hill in the past few months. It finally got to a point where he wasn't eating or drinking. When we brought him to the vet on Thursday, she told us he was starting to suffer from being dehydrated and it was time.

It has been incredibly difficult for me. More than I ever thought. As someone at the vet told us when we left in tears, time will heal. I have been a little depressed and been isolating myself as I mourn. I think I am turning the corner and will begin to feel better soon.

We will go on vacation soon and I hope that helps me recover more. I just need to be sad for a while.