Life After Breast Cancer
Not a title I ever thought I'd write but life has a way throwing you the biggest curveballs when you least expect it. And eight months on from when I first found out I had breast cancer I am adapting to my "new normal".
I was diagnosed with Ductal Carcinoma In Situ in June last year shortly after I found a lump in my breast. The irony here is that the lump turned out to be nothing but in the course of checking it, the breast clinic found something in my other boob that definitely wasn't nothing.
I'd never heard of DCIS before and for the uninitiated it's cancer cells growing in the lining of the milk ducts. In situ means those little bastards haven't yet broken out of the ducts and become invasive. Mine was low to intermediate grade, which meant it wasn't a fast grower and according to scans was about 2cm across.
Initially told I'd need just one lumpectomy and then done, I ended up having three lumpectomies followed by a therapeutic mammoplasty in five months - what originally looked like 2cm turned out to be almost 9cm by the time I finally got the all clear. While I am lucky my cancer was not invasive it was much further spread than scans showed, which they couldn't tell until the bits of my boob they lopped off each time went to the lab to be tested. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty brutal with the last operation being the worst with the longest recovery.
You learn very early on with cancer to expect the unexpected, for treatment plans to change and results to not be what you want to hear. No matter how wonderful the NHS staff treating you are and how kind friends and family can be, it really does suck and it's a lonely path to tread sometimes. Other cancer survivors understand exactly what it's like, much in the same way that you can't ever truly understand what it's like having children until you actually go through it.
Thankfully, I was told my brilliant surgeon had finally got all of it just before Christmas and I could go on my merry way. Haha! No mastectomy for me and I got to keep my own boobs with nipple sensation (very important in my view), albeit smaller and well scarred up.
The thing is when you're going through it, you have something to focus on, something to fight and rail against about the unfairness of it all. There's a plan to follow, action to be taken, a target for your fear and anger. Once you're given the all clear, which obviously is a stupendously fantastic thing, you're on your own. All that support naturally falls away and life moves on.
Plenty of people said to me when I was going through treatment, "You're very brave," or "How do you stay so positive" but really I'm not. When you have no choice you have to get on with it, simple as that.
But once it's over there's a loss of momentum and you do start to wonder, what now? I've struggled far more emotionally with everything since treatment ended than I ever did going through it.
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In many ways it's a lot like life before but in others it's a little like looking at yourself through glass, one step removed and ever so slightly distorted.
Every time I undress I see the scars, snaking across my chest, a constant angry reminder of the surgeries I've undergone. I feel the tightness running up my armpit every time I attempt pull ups in the gym and I feel the scar tissue, hard and unforgiving underneath my fingers when I touch it. I can no longer give blood either. Such a small thing but I cried when I received the letter telling me I was now ineligible. On the plus side, I get free prescriptions for the next few years, so every cloud and all that..
My fervent drive to be rid of breast cancer has given way to a sneaking fear and anxiety about the future. What if it comes back? What if it's invasive if it does come back? What if my back pain (which is quite obviously from lifting heavy in the gym) isn't really back pain at all but a metastacised tumour on my spine? Ridiculous, yes, but my mind has taken me to some very dark places in the last couple of months.
Logically, I know I am fine. DCIS has a ten-year survival rate of 98% and hopefully cancer will never darken my door again. People tell me I am lucky too because it's early stage or baby cancer which really pisses me off. Lucky would be not having cancer at all and not enduring four fucking operations in quick succession!
But having said that, we have to take our luck where we can find it - I am lucky that it was caught early, treated and I am in essence cured. I have friends for whom it is treatable but not curable, who live with the horrible side effects of chemo and radiotherapy every single day. And who have the spectre of their cancer spreading sitting over their shoulder constantly.
So, I am making this new normal work for me, focusing on the things I am grateful for, embracing the future with positivity and working hard to keep those ever-present cancer demons at bay.
Dyslexic Chef, Author of “Deliciously Dyslexic”,Creative, Original, All Cuisine, Food Private Chef Service
11moSo well written Fay. I never thought about that question “so what now?” So very important. Maybe you don’t feel brave and strong when honestly I think we all think you are. I most certainly do. I always have tho and if I might add yiur gifted in so many ways. I don’t know if any of us really think we are invincible anymore not since we were children anyway, but I totally understand how having cancer is going to play on your mind for the future. Still one thing is for sure there won’t be a day any of us won’t be grateful you are in our lives making so many people happy making them feel special and making a difference a great difference to not just BART and yiur family and friends but to all lucky enough to know you. X
Pilates Instructor / stretch & wellbeing coach at Djpilates / mindset is everything/ stronger together/ mental & physical health training / online & face to face classes available
11moFay I have nothing but admiration for you & to come out the other side as strong as you have! This is really well written & gives a huge insight into what cancer sufferers have to go through… Thank you so much for sharing your story so candidly ❣️❣️❣️xx
Helping HR Consultants Build a £70K+ Business | 2x Self-Published Author | Podcast Host | Avid Reader
11moWow. Great post. Really interesting as this isn't something I've ever thought about before. Glad you got the all-clear even though you're still carrying the scars (both physical and mental).
Self Employed Editor at Raring2go! Worthing
11moAmazing outcome for you Fay 🥳🥳🤩
Business trainer, copywriter, journalist, videographer
11moExcellent piece Fay and well observed, post cancer recovery has its own challenges and doesn't get the coverage it deserves. You should place it somewhere with...ahem...a little judicious editing.