My Cancerversary

August marks my one year "cancerversary". (I didn't come up with the term on my own. I read it from another breast cancer blogger) Over the next several months will be an anniversary of some of the darkest moments of my life as well as some of the most cherished. It's hard to imagine that there are cherished ones amongst the dark ones but there are. The support I received from people I know, some unexpected, has turned into some of my most cherished times. It felt intense and caught me off guard. There were mounds of food from co-workers and cards I got from a co-worker on the Thursdays before each chemo treatment and probably the most cherished was Kyle's teammates putting pink tape on their sticks in honor of me. Even though I hate attention, that meant a lot. Most of the support that meant the most was the non-tangible. The love I have felt over the past year has meant so much. Also, letting me keep going with my life and letting me live in between all of the crap was probably the best and most important. I didn't want to wallow and become a victim. I always knew people cared about me but people I knew, but not well seemed to come out of the woodwork to care. (Frankly I didn't know that many people cared about me)

I did the "Race for the Cure" on Mother's Day this year. I expected to and people told me that I would feel inspired by the walk. In many ways I felt panicked and stressed. I saw and met so many women whose cancer had returned after many years. I also felt a sense of grief for the women in the bright pink shirts that appeared to be well under 30 years old. Something else has occurred to me. The women in the bright pink shirts get so much attention. We are honored for something we were forced to deal with. However, I think the real heroes are the people in the white shirts who are giving their time and their money for others. Those people whose only motivation is to help. Those people who are giving before it affects them personally.

As I had said once before, the first two weeks were by far the most difficult of my life. I never said, "Why me" but I did think to myself many times that "this sucks". I never felt sick or felt there was anything wrong with me. Because of this sometimes I would forget what had happened. I remember looking over at the dining room table and seeing the Mayo Women's Cancer book and Mayo Clinic folder and thinking, "This really is happening." Even now as I sit here sometimes I look down at my chest and see where the girls used to be and think, "That really happened."

I saw radiation oncology in June for a final follow-up. I felt so light and free when discussing all of this. I am grateful that I was treated as aggressively as I was. I could handle the few months of discomfort if it meant that I had success. In an earlier blog, I had mentioned the neulasta shot I received 24 hours after chemo. What I didn't mention was the cost of those shots. Each shot was a whopping $3,500. Yes that is a comma not a decimal point. We have really good insurance but because it is a medication, I am responsible for 30%. So, if you do the math I was responsible for more than $900 every 2 weeks. Of course, by the time I got the statement from the insurance company, I had already received 3 shots. When I got the statement, first I soiled myself, then I cried, and then I talked to Mark. We decided that we would just deal with it. The shot was important to keep me out of the hospital. However, this decision was more difficult than it was supposed to be, at least for me. I remember I was looking for something in our bedroom closet. At this point in my treatment my hemoglobin was down to something like 8. (normal for women is between 11-14) For example, I would have to sit down and take a break after coming upstairs from the basement and I would get dizzy quite easily. So that day instead of bending over to look in my closet I had to sit down on the floor in my closet looking for whatever I was looking for. Anyway, so there I am sitting on the floor in my closet, (I can't even remember what I was looking for). All of a sudden I burst into tears. Was I really worth the thousands of dollars we would be paying for a stupid shot? At that moment in time, I didn't feel like I was. At that moment in time I felt like maybe I wasn't worth not only the thousands of dollars in shots but the thousands of dollars worth of tests, chemo drugs and specialty doctors. For my friends and family who may be reading this, don't get your undies in a bunch. It was a fleeting moment in time. For me it was a very difficult moment in time but it was just one moment in time.

The reason I bring this up is that for as expensive as that shot was I believe that it is one of the reasons I had so much success with LB. When I told Dee about the cost of the shot she said an alternative was to eliminate the shot and stretch out the treatments so that I would be having smaller doses over a longer period of time. My body would have more time in between chemo treatments to rest and rebuild my white blood cells. In the end we decided to stay on the schedule and continue with the shots. I strongly believe that that shot, and having chemo every two weeks instead of every three weeks is the reason we had so much success. Because my body was able to tolerate treatments every 2 weeks, it didn't give a break to LB. Because my body wasn't given much of a break LB didn't get a break either. I saw my oncologist at the end of my treatments and after my surgery. He was the oncologist in the background ultimately making the decisions and planning the war strategies. When he walked in the examining room that day he looked like he had just won the lottery or something. I have had the utmost respect for him all along. However, he wasn't the most personable doctor I had ever met. He had never smiled or shown any emotion. But that day, his expression was one of pure joy. Incidentally, I had met the catastrophic maximum before the 2nd shot so I wasn't responsible for most of the costs.

Of course whoever may be reading this now is looking at the date. I know it is already November. I have had difficulty putting my thoughts together as I reflect over the past year. As I reflect over the past year one would think that I would have bad memories and icky feelings in my stomach. Surprisingly I don't. I have a fondness in my heart for the people in my life who have given so much of themselves for me. Not only the physical support but the emotional support. I hated having to be helped at work and I hated all of the attention. But even though I hated it, I needed it and it helped me get through the first year.

I saved all of the cards and the special books I have received over the past year. (I have over 60 total) Every once in awhile I get out the box and read the cards and the books. I usually sit and cry (you can't believe that can you?) remembering and cherishing my family, my extended family, my co-workers and my friends. I am so blessed and I hope that everyone knows what an impact they have had in my life.