Thursday, April 26, 2012

Results and Updates

Was happy to read this today on my MRI report from April 13, 2012:
(breast MRI - not full body)

No new or recurrent disease identified.

Great news!

Also - I had my 12th Herceptin injection today. That means only 5 to go. August 9th should be my last one.

And - it seems that after 5 months on Tamoxifen I'm starting to feel a few side effects (or else I'm just really crabby from all the rain we've been having). These include the grouchies, quick flashes of anger, and some pretty annoying back and leg pain, especially when it's rainy out. Of course it's hard to say that these are all related to the drug but it fits with what everything I've read on the matter. I've noticed that exercise helps with all of the above so I'm trying my hardest to get out every day and move.

That's it for today folks!

Monday, April 16, 2012

On Friday...

I forced myself out the door. I needed to walk, to clear my head, to get the blood flowing. It was grey again but no rain fell. I made myself walk farther then usual, off the street, down into the woods. It was quiet, still. I breathed deeply and let it out slowly - it smelled like fresh greens and damp earth.

And there, tucked away - a trillium. Just one, almost hidden among the profusion of the new bright green growth of spring that carpeted the forest floor. I slowed, searched the ravine, and there, another one. Not a hillside of flowers. Nothing so excessive as that. But a gift all the same, just one I had to work for, to search out. One perfect trillium...then another, and over more.

And then...Ahhh, the sun.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Progress in Peace

In my journal back in January I wrote this: 'Jesus - I’m weary. I’m weary of being strong. I’m weary of being strong enough to handle stuff - physically, emotionally, etc. I’m not strong enough to handle it all. I’m tired. I need peace in my house, in my kids, in Sam. Peace and restfulness. Peace and contentment. Peace and breath. The peace that settles after a good day, when the house is quiet and everyone falls asleep without problems. The kind of peace that I don’t feel right now. Or very often - truth be told - not anymore.' 

It seems with each inch of hair that grows the more peace we experience in this house. The kids are finally starting to trust again. I wanted to say trust me - but I don’t think it was me they didn’t really trust just the me that was sick for a year. The me that had cancer. The me that had to remind them how to call 911 and that they should run to the neighbours if mommy just didn’t seem right or passed out or something (that was quite the anxiety producing conversation!)

Sam's travelled a few times this year already. After a year of him being at home and more often then not the primary care giver for all of us, it was stressful for the kids the first time he went away. But I'm happy to report progress. They are sleeping better, listening better, better able to handle stress. It feels like they trust me to take care of them. I like that. It's been a whole year of anxiety and stress. We've had many many anxious nights plus tears, anger, frustration, fear. So this is a good thing.

Ana saw my port the other day and asked why I still had it in. I forget that they don’t even know that I go for herceptin every 3 weeks - not that we’re keeping it from them, I just don’t want to bother them with all the appointments. Plus I can do it while they’re in school so there’s no reason for them to be anxious about it. They see me as healthy, happy, getting stronger and they see the hair and know that a chapter in our lives, a very hard, yucky chapter is coming to a close. But just like with any book all future chapters will have the taint or knowledge of what came before. This will always be a part of us and in some ways I’m glad. I’m glad they know that people get sick or that some moms or dads could die. There may be friends that could lose a parent or go through a tough time and even if my kids aren’t directly relating to them they get it. They understand grief, heart ache and sadness. And I hope they also understand more about what it is to trust in God. I'm so glad that Jesus has a special place in his heart for children.

Even though I believe the kids are doing better I think I’m having a hard time believing I am going to be okay. Yeah - a lot of people are fine after an early diagnosed breast cancer but there are also many that aren’t. I pray every day I’m in the 80% that doesn’t get cancer again, not the 20%. But only God knows and I think the idea is to live each day as if it could end at any moment while still fully living. No easy feat, that.