This is cancer

Dear CancerMates

I walked into the cancer center today and saw you all.
I did my usual quick scan around the room.
I see you.
You see me.
Neither of us acknowledge each other.
For the most part we all keep to ourselves.

Occasionally our eyes will catch one another and we will quickly look back down at our pretend article that we aren't really reading or sometimes we will warmly smile at each other.


DH is by my side today.
It's my last infusion.
The last time my port will be accessed to draw labs and insert infusion meds to keep cancer at bay.
You know I dont like to jinx myself so I wont say last ever because of NED and all
 (No Evidence of Disease does not mean forever)
Especially because NED and I are good friends.
He visited me again to make sure I wasn't getting too relaxed and comphy.
HA! Clearly NED doesnt know that relaxed isn't really in my vocab.

The nurse who did my labs today is also a "survivor".
"Your last infusion". She says. "I wont lie to you. This is when it gets hard"
I cried.
YES! I screamed (and wanted to hug her). Thank you for getting what I've been thinking for so long.
Oh yea. She reiterates all my feelings and fears. "It's never over. Those people who tell you hooray. It's over. "Yea, not so much.
We agreed that we felt a certain safety net by being seen every week/every month.
Now, they send us off on our way.
What do you mean as I begged my oncologist for a full body scan.
It's just not necessary, he assures me.
Of course I know this is a good thing but how do we know there isn't cancer ruminating in some minor cell in my body?
It's terrifying.
The thought of reoccurrence is terrifying.
I have run on adrenaline for the past 14 months; I'm not so sure I know how to slow it down.

I look at you Cancermates and wonder where you are in the process.
Starting out?
Here for a follow up?
Terrified of the news you are maybe about to receive?

I see you.
You see me.


I see you looking at my port.
No worries. It's hard not to see the tubes hanging out of my chest.
It's okay. Really.
I'm an open book.
You may not be and that's okay.
Remember there is no rule book with cancer.

Recently a support group FB page that I follow asked others how they "came out" to their friends. Did they announce on facebook?
It was an interesting assortment of answers although most said that coming out helped them along the way.
I couldnt agree more.
I chose to announce because I wanted to address the elephant before it became the elephant.
Seeing me in scarves I knew was going to be a dead giveaway (I'm quick like that) and I didn't want to hear the whispers behind my back (even though maybe they were there regardless)
I chose to announce (even though after I did I immediately cried and regretted my decision) because I thought the support would be uplifting.

Sure enough.
Check. That part was right.
The blogging; therapeutic.  (Another check)
Helping at least one person (Check)

I often wonder(ed) am I too open? Too honest? Putting too much out there?
Perhaps for some.
But this worked for me.



I took a walk with DH to the healing garden before I left (After I gave big hugs to Nurse K and the social worker for seeing me through this hell)
I grabbed two healing rocks.
One for each of my children.
May they only know health.

So dear cancer mates,
you are in my heart.
For real.
Not just words.
Wherever you may be in your chapter I hope you lean on someone.
Many someone's if needed.
But just someone.
You can't do it all yourself no matter how strong and in control of a person you may be.
You will feel empowered at some point.
You will feel dragged down and beaten to a pulp.
You will feel that there is no one who gets it.

I get it.
I see you.
You see me.

You may see that two times of cancer has brought me:
3 biopsies
12 chemotherapy infusions
15 herceptin infusions
35 radiation treatments
7 surgeries
1 port
More MRI's than I care to count
5 years of Tamoxifen to keep cancer away
4 1/2 more years of pills to keep new cancer away (which is now bring aches and pains to joints and bones and making me walk like an elderly woman)
It brought a lot of shit to my life.
A lot more angst and emotion than I cared to have.

But it also brought me so much love.

Remember village people
Love Fiercely.