Well, there you have it. After a 10 month fight, I have been told there is no evidence of disease in my body. I had my CT scan and bloodwork done on Tuesday June 25 and then had to wait almost a whole week to get my results. I had myself so anxious, so worked up that there were days that I had to fight down bile. I felt like I was waiting for my death sentence. I was hoping for the best and fearing the worst. When my oncologist walked into the exam room and tried to make small talk, I told him I was anxious and needed to know what the scan showed. He said the scan looked good and so did the bloodwork.
I am incredibly happy, but still feeling pessimistic. I have been told that this is normal and that it takes a really long time to adjust to the post treatment life. It is not easy. Not easy at all. Even though I feel pretty good, I am by no means back to "normal." In fact, I am getting used to the new normal of getting tired incredibly easily (of needing a nap when I didn't even DO anything!), of looking "good" but not feeling good, of smiling even though I don't really feel like it. I might not be sick anymore, but I am still recovering. I HAD CANCER. I am still at risk for cancer. This will be my life. I don't get to go back. I don't get to pretend it never happened. While the people in my life might be able to do that, I have to deal with it every day. I have to deal with the PTSD, I have to deal with the changes to my body, my scars, my fatigue.
I had my port removed on Wednesday, July 3rd. I truly celebrated Independence Day. Knowing that my doctors felt there was no need to keep it in anymore brought a HUGE sense of relief. And having it removed, having one less foreign object in my body, makes me ten times more comfortable. I still would not have changed anything regarding the port since it make the infusions of chemo so much easier, but I couldn't wait for it to go. I felt it all the time. I felt the tugging in my neck where it was attached to my jugular vein. I felt the lump on my chest when I lifted something or as my children were tring to cuddle with me. And now I am left with a scar. A lower cut shirt will always expose what used to be a part of me. But "There is something beautiful about all scars, whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with."
I've been out riding my bike. I haven't been out as much as I would like to, but sometimes life gets in the way. I'm pretty sure I will no be able to do the fundraiser ride. Hubby and I had talked about doing the one day ride, but that is still 60ish miles. I don't know if I'm strong enough. I don't know if I have enough endurance. I'm still "recovering." Maybe next year?
Plus, the ride is my birthday weekend and I'm in the planning stages of my 30th birthday party! I know I mentioned this before, but you're all invited! It will be a joint party with the son who is turning 3, and if all goes according to plan, it will be at our new house. Mark your calendars for September 28, 2013. :) Life is sweet.
