Saturday, February 15, 2014

Cancerversary-Year 1

I should have known that the anniversary of a traumatic event would make me crazy. It was like that for the 1 year anniversary of my Dad's death. In the days leading up to it, I relived every moment. Luckily, on the actual day of his death I was comforted by many signs and his visit in a dream to let me know that he was fine and still with me. I only hope that today I can find half of that peace.

A year ago my life changed, and it will never be the same. Lately I have been consumed with negative thoughts, anxiety, panic, and hopelessness. I have been reliving each moment..the feel of that rock hard lump in my normally smooth breast, the cold sweat and difficulty breathing I had while telling my Mom and Eric (who was away for work) over the phone what I had found, the doctors appointments, the tests, the concerned looks on the faces of the doctors and techs, and the fake smiles I put on for everyone, the beginning of my permanent state of preoccupation.

Thanks to social media, I've "met" or read about a lot of young breast cancer girls. I need this, I need them, I need to know I'm not the only one. However, what this means is that I will inevitabily see some people recur, and I may see some people die. Some will have a better prognosis than me from the beginning and these stories will rock my core. And maybe I will be one of them, I can't yet be sure, I can only pray that I'm not, that they're not, and that we all make it. Lately I've been going to very dark places and feeling like its only a matter of time before the cancer returns. Every ache I have, which are plenty, sends me into a turmoil. The 1 year anniversary enhances this fear-if my cancer is most likely to return in the first 2 years, then will this be the year? I can't help thinking that when you're diagnosed with cancer you are handed one of two sentences. A death sentence....or a life sentence filled with the fear and anxiety that it will return.

This post makes me sick, I hate to be this negative. Especially after a period of strength and hopefulness over the holidays that made me feel like cancer was truly behind me and I had won. I hope it's just the date thats terrorizing me and that after this I can move on with a sense of calm.

I am praying with everything I have that I am updating this blog on this date for the next 40 years. And I hope that I'm able to turn February 15th into a celebration of life and I'll look back on these early dark days as times I can barely recall. I'm just not there yet.

However....

Today I will not be recieving a call that I have cancer. That right there makes it 100 times better than last year. Instead, I will enjoy my wonderful husband who flew home from Germany to be with me and my gorgeous sweet daughter, I will go for a run, I will eat ice cream cake, I will have photos taken of my family (and I will do this every year from now on), and I will have a lovely date night with my husband. This year will be better than last. Next year will be better than this year. And so on and so on...hopefully for the next 40.

1 comment:

  1. Oh sweet sistah...you wrote the words and thoughts that every single one of us could have written. I know. Even 5 years post diagnosis, I am still PTSD-stricken; especially when one of "us" is battling recurrence. I never know when something I read is going to send me downward into a spiral of anxiety. It just hits...and it is so hard. I also have a quite a bit of survivor's guilt when I read of one of our sistahs who is not doing well. Don't get me wrong, I'm so thankful that I am here and in remission. But I always think "Why her, and not me?" Like I said, I don't WANT it to be me, just...you know.
    Cancer is so much more of a mental and emotional battle than a physical one. I don't think I was quite prepared for that part. I think I thought that once treatment was done that cancer would be done... I so wish that was the case. I totally understand the anxiety, panic, and stress that you live with every day because I have it too. But not every day is a "bad day"...thankfully! It is with purpose that I get up each morning and try to focus on something positive-like your "I'm not getting a cancer call today."
    In one of my panicked states, I emailed my oncologist one day (who is also a very good friend) and told him-"I just feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
    His reply-"You're good. Your shoes are moving too fast to drop."
    I screenshotted that email and look at it for a little reassurance every once in a while. Move shoes, move.
    Also, on my bathroom mirror, I have written Luke 8:48 on a notecard and taped it there-where I can see it every morning and multiple times a day. It's a great reminder that-"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace."
    I'm trying, Lord.

    I'm praying for you, sweetie, and me, and all of us. I am so thankful that we may not know what the future holds, but we know WHO holds the future. Hang in there, my friend. If you can feel it, I'm sending you the biggest hug right now. You are not alone. I love you.

    Mark 5:36

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