Showing posts with label survival rate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label survival rate. Show all posts

Sunday, October 9, 2022

It's Been 10 Years...

Wow. Cancer-versary #10.

On this day ten years ago I received The Call. The call where you hear the word "cancer" and the rest of the conversation sounds like the teacher from Charlie Brown. You can read the post about that phone call here and/or how I reacted the next day here

Diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer, that call was the beginning of a JOURNEY that would eventually end with 20 weeks of chemo, 38 rounds of radiation, and more surgeries than I could keep track of. (Side note, when I fill out forms at doctors offices today and they want this information, I just laugh and write "too many to list"). The percentages weren't in my favor. And I know you're not supposed to look at statistics but I'm a science major so I couldn't help it. Statistics said my odds of surviving past five years were 65% (give or take).

And then... I made it to five years, and six, and seven (and wrote the first of my "TED Talks." If you have the time, you really should read it. It’s admittedly long, but contains a lot of good updates, information, and even explains “cancer-versary.” It is also an on-going thank you to the people I can never repay). 


2020 was a dumpster fire on so many levels but it marked eight years.

Last year... NINE YEARS. One year away from the magical "ten year" cancer-versary. Each year I celebrated the milestone while also dreading my annual scans, afraid that my luck had run out. But also, totally prepared for the bad news that I was sure was coming. 

So imagine my... surprise?... when I realize that it is 2022 and I have hit the ten year mark.

Ten. Motherfucking. Years. 

And my scan from this summer came back CLEAR. Fuck you, Cancer!

"When are you writing the book?" It's the question I get asked a lot. If I don't get an invite to present a TED Talk soon, I will have to sit down and start writing. It's now my five year goal. I finally came up with the perfect title (well, a friend came up with the title... I'll give him credit in the author's note I swear). It's also something that I want you to know: "It's Okay to Cry in the Shower."

And that is this year's advice.

Believe me, there are lots of reasons you might find yourself crying in the shower. You know what? It's OKAY! There's a story very few people know and I'm sure it will be a chapter of that future book. It's the day, maybe 4 weeks? 6 weeks? into chemo, where I just couldn't get out of the shower to go to the hospital for my infusion. Could not. I was DONE. At the time I did not care that it meant I would probably die. I did not care that it probably made me a bad mother for not caring if I died. Because I was DONE with all of it. Done with doctors, and treatments, and feeling like I was dying. 

Obviously, I did get up the next day and I went to get that round of chemo. And all the rest of them. I powered through what would become almost another year of treatments and surgeries. And even more years of scans, and meds that made me crazy, and follow-up appointments. People called me: Warrior. Inspiration. Survivor. Badass. Believe me, I will take all those labels and proudly own them. But I want you to know this: while you probably think it's great that I got up the next day and continued my treatments... I want you to know that it was completely okay for me to say that I was done. 

2022 has been a GREAT year for me and my crew! Weddings and grandkids. Life, love, and laughter. TRAVEL. Concerts. Travel for concerts. Sunsets and moonrises. So much time spent on my lanai with people that I adore. I say it every year: life is too short my friends. It really is. And I've been trying to live mine to the fullest. (See some pictures at the end of this post). 
 
                     


This past week I got to raise a glass with just a few of the people that got me through it all. And I spent this weekend celebrating with my kids and grandkids. So many people have said... "wow, you look great. You know what? You look HAPPY." Because, guess what? I finally am happy! Don't wait for "some day" my friends. You should be LIVING life...to the fullest...EVERY DAY. Always.

Without further ado, thank 
you for indulging a girl her annual TED Talk:

Advice from 2013:
Be happy. (Funny that I wrote this in 2013. That's a whole other chapter of the book).


Say I love you. 


Be thankful. 


Don't take anything, or ANYONE, for granted. 


Do what you love. 


Don't wait for "someday." 


Oh, and eat dessert first.


Edited in 2015 to add:


Go because you can. TAKE THE DAMN TRIPS.


Because why not?! (Make this your mantra!)


WEAR SUNSCREEN!


Edited in 2019 to add:


Get all the tattoos.


Watch ALL the sunsets.


Edited in 2020 to add:


Re-connect with your people. Take the time, have the conversations, enjoy the laughter.


See the shows, watch the concerts, go to the games.


Don't accept BULLSHIT. 


And it bears repeating: FIND THE PEOPLE WHO MAKE YOU LAUGH. And who love you unconditionally. 


Edited in 2021 to add...


Pink songs helped me through a LOT over the years. But this one? Damn, I don't think a song has ever spoken to me so much. And so that's the advice for 2021:

"Stay unfiltered and loud.
Be proud of that skin full of scars."

I wouldn't trade mine for the world. 

And so, my friends, please take a moment and raise a glass, eat the cupcake, read the book, and chase the sunset. Do it for me, but do it for YOURSELF. I'll leave you with this quote, which finally became a tattoo: 


"Don't be afraid of death; be afraid of an unlived life. You don't have to life forever, you just have to live." --Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

       
        


 




  

Saturday, November 17, 2012

James Bond Not Even a Distraction

Now don't take this the wrong way dear husband, but Daniel Craig is a pretty good looking guy. In fact, he may be the best Bond ever, except of course for Sean Connery. But since Mr. Connery is a little out of my age group, I will have to settle for Mr. Craig.

Since Monday was a holiday, we decided to make it family movie day. Sort of. Three of us wanted to see the new James Bond, but the 4th was too young. So, we conned grandma into taking the 4th to some animated feature. And then the 3rd decided he couldn't possibly go to a movie with his parents and didn't want to go. I'm pretty sure either dad or grandma laid on the guilt trip, because he did end up going (but not sitting with us).

During the previews, the chemo doc called my cell to talk about "the meeting" she had with the surgeon and the radiation oncologist. Super, now all 3 of them are ganging up on me.

Here are the basics...which I learned about over the phone in the movie theater lobby:

All three agree that desperate times call for desperate measures. A mastectomy is everyone's first choice, but will NOT change the course of treatment. I will have to have chemo AND radiation regardless of what I choose.

There is an "unusual" (this is a word that I am tired of hearing) spot close to my heart (near the sternum? chest wall? breast bone? I wasn't really listening at this point) which is a lymph node that is "lighting up" on all the tests. Possibly has cancer in it, but because of it's location, no one can get to it to remove it. Super!
Five year survival rate percentage (or whatever they call this number) has dipped into the low 70s. That's kind of freaky, by the way. All along you think that your survival odds are like 99% because you're amazing and doing all the right things and it's just a process you have to go through to get to the other side. This is not something I really wanted to hear.

Of the three options for chemotherapy that were given to me initially, one was ruled out because of it's long-term risks to someone as "young and in good health" (another phrase I'm really tired of. I have cancer...how am I in good health???) as me. However, after this confab, it was determined that risks be damned. This is now the course that she wants me to go.

Before I can start anything, I have to have an echocardiogram, a PET scan, and a CT scan so that everyone knows what I was like "before." Yeah, more tests...which means more paperwork (see previous post). 

And then I went back into the movie theater (where us "young folk" were outnumbered 189 to 3 by the senior citizen crowd...teenage boy really loved us for this) and attempted to lose myself in what really was one of the BEST Bond movies ever. 

If only for a little while...