It's Been a Ride

- 4 minutes read - 778 words

How It Started

My life was going along pretty great. I was feeling good in all phases of my life: spiritual, mental, and physical. Work was going well. I was getting ready for our wedding, and getting the van ready for a trip out West.

And then I remembered that I needed to get that mammogram scheduled.

I got the mammogram. I always have to go back for a second one and an ultrasound, so when that happened I wasn’t too concerned. But when I was getting the ultrasound, I kinda had a feeling this time was different. That feeling was confirmed when the radiologist came in to double check. He explained to me that I had a lump that’s been there for years, but this time something looked different about it, and the only way to check it out is a biopsy.

I had the biopsy and got the word that I had cancer. I wrote about my reaction to that news earlier.

How It’s Going

There wasn’t any way to know the path forward at that time, but there never really is, is there? We think we know and we can plan, but there’s no way to know the future or our path to get there.

When the only control you have is over your thoughts and attitude, you learn to be flexible. Or miserable. Your choice.

I made a flow chart of my possible treatment plans, but that plan turned out to be broad strokes too.

I was on the easy path. No need for a mastectomy, or double mastectomy. No cancer in the lymph nodes. Easily sailing.

Except I needed two surgeries to get the tumor out of my breast, and it turned out it was larger than they thought. That meant the tumor was large enough to start having its own blood vessels, and the cancer could travel through my blood to other parts of my body.

Another test. Another (long) wait for results. This time to see if I needed chemotherapy.

I don’t need chemotherapy.

Such a simple statement, but that news caused me to be exhausted for a full day. It was like all the events of the past 3 months fell on me at once.

So now I’m on to radiation treatment every week day for a month.

Imposter Syndrome

A couple of months ago, after I found out that there was no cancer in the lymph nodes I was beginning to feel like a cheat, a fraud. Could I really say that I had cancer when I had it so easy?

My father had cancer and had chemo for a year, and the chemo nearly killed him. My mother had cancer and I watched her evaporate from the chemo and its effects. She didn’t eat solid food for the last four months of her life.

How could I say that I had cancer when all I had to do was a couple of surgeries and some radiation treatments?

Upon Further Reflection

I’m tired of being poked and prodded, positioned and marked. I’m tired of waiting to learn when I can pick up my life and make plans to travel, or work on improving my rowing times. I’m tired of having to tell people that I have cancer and get the reaction.

I may or may not have cancer cells in my body right now. Radiation may or may not kill them off. It may or may not reappear later. I may or may not have life impacting side effects from the surgeries, radiation, or hormone blockers.

Does any of that really matter?

This isn’t a competition. This is my path. These are my experiences and teachers custom made for me.

And it’s been challenging enough, thank you.

Now What

This experience isn’t over, but we’re in the last chapter and don’t have many plot twists left.

I am, and will continue to be grateful for the blessings that I have. That’s a whole other topic that deserves its own blog post, but know that I am grateful for my family and friends that have supported me, my coworkers who cheerfully adjusted their work to support me, every single person in the clinics and hospital who I’ve encountered, and the people who have sent prayers and healing energy my way - some of whom I’ve never even met.

I’ll go back to what I said in my first post on this cancer experience. I’m going to continue to be grateful for, and learn from life’s experiences - eventually.

I’m going to continue striving to be “…a hole in the flute the Christ’s breath moves through - listen to this music!”