It ain't just a river in Egypt....
I don't feel like I have cancer. I don't feel sick, I'm not scared, and I'm certainly not feeling sorry for myself. I'm reading others' cancer blogs and feeling bad for them... because THEY have CANCER. I was scared before Dr. Boob told me the size of the tumor and gave me her estimate of the stage. But since then, I have refused to think of this as life threatening. I'm strong, stubborn and irritated, and I hope to stay that way. Right from the start I decided to be very aggressive with this. Much to my relief, Dr. Boob suggested a mastectomy
instead of a lumpectomy and much to hers, I replied with, "Let's make it a double!" I'm not looking forward to chemo, but if it improves my chance of no recurrence, I'll gladly do it. This attitude has misled some people to feel I may be in denial. It has led most of the cancer survivors I've met so far to tell me I have exactly the right stuff to kick cancer in the taco.
The kids seem to be following my lead on this. I'm pretty upbeat and while I am pushing them to become more independent and telling them that I feel pretty good right now but I will be feeling sicker later, they are handling this pretty well.
But Dan can't. He is really genuinely scared and while this has come at a pretty good time for me, (kids are getting to be more independent, both of them are in all day school, I've been working towards finally getting in shape this summer so I'm ironically healthier than I've been in years,) it's come at a bad time for him, (changes at work, a couple of years of less-than-ideal health for him, a pet side-project stalling.)
That being said, he told me a couple of weeks ago that while he would never wish for something like this to happen, he looks at it as a challenge to excel under pressure and rise to the occasion. I would expect nothing less of him, as he has always picked me up and supported me when I've fallen. He knows what to say to me when I'm freaking out, he inspires me to be the best that I can be and helps enable that inclination. He's got my back.
Mr. Science has also allowed me to lead as we move through the decision making process, only chiming in when he feels I might be getting too emotional with my assessments, which is probably a good thing. We are for the most part on the same page when it comes to the treatment plan. He was hesitant to seek a second opinion from a different plastic surgeon because he feels as though we have no time. Since my MRI got pushed back a week, I feel like we do have time. We have all the time in the world, because I'm not going anywhere.
About a week ago he asked me what
I want to live for. I wasn't ready for the question. I am now. For us.
Robyn...I can so relate to your post. I lived on the Isle of Denial for quite awhile! I wanted to share something my surgeon told me that really helped: He told me my cancer had been growing for years, so a few more weeks would NOT make any difference in treatment." So if you want a 2nd opinion — there is time. You can't put a price tag on the peace of mind it brings. Much luck! ;-)
ReplyDeleteYou just gave me goosebumps! :) Molly
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