This morning I saw my oncologist to get the results of the CT scan I had last Friday. Everything is stable! I will admit that I really liked the CTs I had during chemo that showed my liver tumours shrinking dramatically. OK, I wish I was NED (no evidence of disease). But I am happy to be sable, Stable Mabel.
This was my first CT scan since I began Tamoxifen treatment. I had thought of this drug only for its value in preventing the recurrence of breast cancer; I hadn't realized it was used for metastatic disease as well. I thought I was going to have to do chemo for the rest of my life. [Yes, there is SO much I don't know!] My bone marrow is glad for the chemo break, not that Tamoxifen is completely benign. I have had increased joint pain, significant nausea and, most recently, hot flashes. It's almost as bad as my chemo, Taxol. But it isn't as toxic. Knowing that my doctor has so many drugs to use against my cancer (triple positive ductal breast cancer) is comforting. In fact, the doctor mentioned that it appears that cancer cells are forgetful. They lose their resistance to particular chemo drugs after about a year. That allows the oncologists to retry a drug that stopped working. It gives me hope that I will be around for a while.
I swear, I cry almost as much after good news as bad. My Sweetheart and I admitted some of our fears to my oncologist. My doctor is, and always has been very optimistic about his ability to treat my cancer as a chronic condition, rather than a life-threatening one. The truth is that right now my cancer is not threatening my life. i really should relax a little. Both the doc and my Sweetie would like it if I stayed off the Internet and forgot about median survival rates. They have a good point, but it would be hard. I feel a great deal of comfort and support from the breast cancer blogging community. Plus, I want to use my blog to keep my loved ones up to date and to, I hope, be of comfort and support to others.
[My title was inspired by Jen at Learning to Live Lengendary and her post "Missing Mabel.")
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Thursday, 4 April 2013
Reflections on Recent Deaths
I was shocked today to learn that Roger Ebert had passed away only days after announcing he was taking a "leave of presence" due to the return of his cancer. He had so many plans for this leave and now he is gone. Just weeks ago, Donna Peach, a breast cancer blogger, passed away after what seemed to be a recurrence of shingles. Through the Twitter feed I was informed today of another passing, this time of the mother of young children.
Given my condition, I can't help but be touched by these deaths. There but for the grace of God go I. Reflections fill my head and spill out my fingertips to my blog. I need to write these things publicly. I need to be held to account. Because I don't want to slip away before I do the things I need to do.
WARNING: this post is not for the faint of heart. Please stop now if my honesty may disturb you.
First, let me say how grateful I am to have lived eighteen months since my diagnosis of Stage IV breast cancer. You don't want to know what the median survival is. Google it if you have to, but you don't want to know. My doctor talks of treating me for decades and decades. I hope so. I know he can't guarantee me that much time.
Whatever time I have, I want to write more, sit less. I don't want this sore neck that comes from too much time sprawled on the couch. Now that spring is approaching, or at least the snowbanks are receding, I want to drag my walker outside and walk, damnit! I want to smell the fresh air and feel the sun. It is time to listen to the birds call my name. I'm not confident that I can walk 5km like I did last fall. My hip appears to be healing. Walking helps it heal. What I need to do is clear.
I also want to use up my craft stash. I can't bear the thought of my Sweetheart having to sort through it without me. It would be best that he not know how many things I plan to make a purse out of, on top of all the other purses I have. There is so much wool. So many beads. I want to make a rosary for my niece before her baptism. I'm proud to be her godmother!
Organizing my paper and electronic genealogy files is another priority. Genealogy isn't a project you finish. Nevertheless, there is so much I should do, like improving my source citations and adding photos and then posting my family tree to the public. I am late in responding to a couple of people eager to share research. Cancerland has been a busy place the last few months. So many appointments. Gee, why don't I make myself an appointment to visit the National Archives again with Sweetie? I should schedule time to tackle my hobbies.
And then there is the pile of stuff at my office. I've been trying to get back there since January to sort through my effects and my working papers. I appreciate my coworkers packing up my office to clear it for my replacement, but there's so much for me yet to do. I've been thinking of holding a garage sale for the candy dishes, mugs, vases and toys I had at the office. There's a way to raise money for "the cure."
I also want to prepare for, shall we say, the worst case scenario. I need to write messages for the Bean in case I'm not here for her the day her heart is broken or she runs up her credit card. So many things I have to say. She calls them Mommy's lectures now. She is turning ten. Another few years and she won't hear a word I say. But one day she will regret that. Do I write or do I videotape my messages to her? Maybe both. It won't be a small or easy task.
There are practical preparations too. I take care of the family finances. We have been meeting with our financial advisor and most of our retirement and education savings, insurance and mortgage are with him. I think it is time to get rid of my bank account in favour of joint accounts with my Sweetheart, so he has easier access to all our assets when I am incapacitated or gone.
I have been reading books about healing, meditation and happiness. I would like to practice meditation. In fact, my physiotherapy routine is primarily breathing and relaxation. I can believe that meditation may help shrink my tumours, shall we say by helping my medical treatment to be as effective as possible. At the very least, meditation would improve my quality of life. Hmm, quality and perhaps quantity of life?
I don't know if you can understand this if you don't have a terminal illness, but one ache, one bad day can be terrifying. The bad days can snowball quickly, as they did for Donna Peach and Roger Ebert. I feel very vulnerable, naked and unarmed. Those who knew me before my diagnosis know I'm a planner. Very deadline oriented. When it came to my work, I could do miracles with the right team. I told my boss today I should have saved myself a miracle. We will see. Maybe I did.
The thing is that we don't know. Unlike my work projects, I don't know what my deadline is. Don't know how much time I have left to clean my closets, raise my girl and teach Sweetie how to pay the bills online. Truth be told, you don't know how much time you have either. You probably don't want to think about it though. I can't avoid it.
And that brings me to the thought I want to leave you with: peace. I was raised a Roman Catholic, though I'm not a practicing one. Pope Francis intrigues me and so I've been following several Vatican Twitter feeds. His words today about the "joyful wonder" of being a Christian really touched me. In my opinion this peace can be sought and received from whatever you believe is a Supreme Being or life force. Whatever your faith, please consider these words. May you find peace in them, as I do:
"Of course we cannot live forever in [a state of] wonder. No, we really cannot. But it is the beginning. Then, this astonishment leaves an impression in the soul and spiritual consolation. It is the consolation of those who have encountered Jesus Christ”.
"First wonder, then spiritual consolation and finally, the last step: peace. Even in the most painful tests, a Christian never loses the peace and presence of Jesus. With a little 'courage' we can pray: 'Lord, grant me this grace which is the hallmark of our encounter with you: spiritual consolation and peace'. A peace that we cannot lose because it is ours, it is the Lord's true peace that cannot be bought or sold. It is a gift from God. This is why we ask for the grace of spiritual consolation and peace of mind, that starts with this joyful wonder of our encounter with Jesus Christ. So be it. "
Given my condition, I can't help but be touched by these deaths. There but for the grace of God go I. Reflections fill my head and spill out my fingertips to my blog. I need to write these things publicly. I need to be held to account. Because I don't want to slip away before I do the things I need to do.
WARNING: this post is not for the faint of heart. Please stop now if my honesty may disturb you.
First, let me say how grateful I am to have lived eighteen months since my diagnosis of Stage IV breast cancer. You don't want to know what the median survival is. Google it if you have to, but you don't want to know. My doctor talks of treating me for decades and decades. I hope so. I know he can't guarantee me that much time.
Whatever time I have, I want to write more, sit less. I don't want this sore neck that comes from too much time sprawled on the couch. Now that spring is approaching, or at least the snowbanks are receding, I want to drag my walker outside and walk, damnit! I want to smell the fresh air and feel the sun. It is time to listen to the birds call my name. I'm not confident that I can walk 5km like I did last fall. My hip appears to be healing. Walking helps it heal. What I need to do is clear.
I also want to use up my craft stash. I can't bear the thought of my Sweetheart having to sort through it without me. It would be best that he not know how many things I plan to make a purse out of, on top of all the other purses I have. There is so much wool. So many beads. I want to make a rosary for my niece before her baptism. I'm proud to be her godmother!
Organizing my paper and electronic genealogy files is another priority. Genealogy isn't a project you finish. Nevertheless, there is so much I should do, like improving my source citations and adding photos and then posting my family tree to the public. I am late in responding to a couple of people eager to share research. Cancerland has been a busy place the last few months. So many appointments. Gee, why don't I make myself an appointment to visit the National Archives again with Sweetie? I should schedule time to tackle my hobbies.
And then there is the pile of stuff at my office. I've been trying to get back there since January to sort through my effects and my working papers. I appreciate my coworkers packing up my office to clear it for my replacement, but there's so much for me yet to do. I've been thinking of holding a garage sale for the candy dishes, mugs, vases and toys I had at the office. There's a way to raise money for "the cure."
I also want to prepare for, shall we say, the worst case scenario. I need to write messages for the Bean in case I'm not here for her the day her heart is broken or she runs up her credit card. So many things I have to say. She calls them Mommy's lectures now. She is turning ten. Another few years and she won't hear a word I say. But one day she will regret that. Do I write or do I videotape my messages to her? Maybe both. It won't be a small or easy task.
There are practical preparations too. I take care of the family finances. We have been meeting with our financial advisor and most of our retirement and education savings, insurance and mortgage are with him. I think it is time to get rid of my bank account in favour of joint accounts with my Sweetheart, so he has easier access to all our assets when I am incapacitated or gone.
I have been reading books about healing, meditation and happiness. I would like to practice meditation. In fact, my physiotherapy routine is primarily breathing and relaxation. I can believe that meditation may help shrink my tumours, shall we say by helping my medical treatment to be as effective as possible. At the very least, meditation would improve my quality of life. Hmm, quality and perhaps quantity of life?
I don't know if you can understand this if you don't have a terminal illness, but one ache, one bad day can be terrifying. The bad days can snowball quickly, as they did for Donna Peach and Roger Ebert. I feel very vulnerable, naked and unarmed. Those who knew me before my diagnosis know I'm a planner. Very deadline oriented. When it came to my work, I could do miracles with the right team. I told my boss today I should have saved myself a miracle. We will see. Maybe I did.
The thing is that we don't know. Unlike my work projects, I don't know what my deadline is. Don't know how much time I have left to clean my closets, raise my girl and teach Sweetie how to pay the bills online. Truth be told, you don't know how much time you have either. You probably don't want to think about it though. I can't avoid it.
And that brings me to the thought I want to leave you with: peace. I was raised a Roman Catholic, though I'm not a practicing one. Pope Francis intrigues me and so I've been following several Vatican Twitter feeds. His words today about the "joyful wonder" of being a Christian really touched me. In my opinion this peace can be sought and received from whatever you believe is a Supreme Being or life force. Whatever your faith, please consider these words. May you find peace in them, as I do:
"Of course we cannot live forever in [a state of] wonder. No, we really cannot. But it is the beginning. Then, this astonishment leaves an impression in the soul and spiritual consolation. It is the consolation of those who have encountered Jesus Christ”.
"First wonder, then spiritual consolation and finally, the last step: peace. Even in the most painful tests, a Christian never loses the peace and presence of Jesus. With a little 'courage' we can pray: 'Lord, grant me this grace which is the hallmark of our encounter with you: spiritual consolation and peace'. A peace that we cannot lose because it is ours, it is the Lord's true peace that cannot be bought or sold. It is a gift from God. This is why we ask for the grace of spiritual consolation and peace of mind, that starts with this joyful wonder of our encounter with Jesus Christ. So be it. "
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