The volunteer called me tonight. It turns out the analytical side of me is gonna have to step aside for now while the emotional side of me deals with the fact that I had breast cancer and my life is forever different. The analytical side of me is not going to be very happy about it but she will be able to analyze everything after the emotional me has a run at it first.
There’s definitely ‘stuff’ I’m going to have to go through. Stuff I was hoping I could analyze away. To be fair to myself, this was all a very traumatic experience and me trying to make it small and tiny hasn’t worked so I’ll take the volunteer’s advice and deal with the emotions and they will lead me to where I’m supposed to go from here. This void or in between, feeling like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff about to fall off isn’t a bad place to be. It’s where I learn to say goodbye to who I was and learn to say hello to who I am now and who I’m going to be.

I went for blood tests today for genetic testing. The counselor I had was very impressed with the family tree and history that my aunt put together when she was tested. They only test for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes. These 2 they know for sure are genes that predispose people to breast cancer. She also said that they think there might be a link between brain and breast cancer. My uncle died of brain cancer as well as other members of my extended family. Even tho they only test for the 2 genes it doesn’t mean there isn’t another gene in our family that predisposes us to cancer, not just breast cancer, especially since it seems to be so prevalent in my family tree. I won’t get results for about 6 months and can have them over the phone or in a face to face meeting. It was all really interesting.
Even if, like my aunt, I test negative for these genes, at least I’m helping in a small way to try and find a reason or a cure for getting cancer and that makes me feel good. I also found out today that I’m really not afraid of needles anymore like I’ve been saying. I couldn’t watch, but I didn’t freeze up and hold my breath like I used to. One less fear in my life. That’s a good thing.

I had a meltdown today. At work. What set it off wasn’t even anything to cry about, I think it was just that one thing that gave me a reason, albeit not a good one, to have an emotional meltdown. I’ve been feeling like I needed one for a few days. Why it chose to show it’s nasty head at work is beyond me. The only time today I felt normal was when I was doing my job, talking to clients. The minute I had an opportunity to go back inside my head I got emotional again. I felt so alone.
Crying on the way home I decided that what a co-worker suggested and what I’ve been considering might not be a bad idea. Finding someone to talk to who has been in my shoes. My problem with it all is I don’t want to go to a group. Been there, done that for other things. I don’t want to talk to a counselor, they may or may not have been there done that and I haven’t found one that works at night. So I found CancerConnection. They offer peer to peer phone support. They’ll find a volunteer to call me who matches my situation and what is important to me. They asked me a bunch of questions for this. So I should be getting a phone call in the next few days.
According to the woman I spoke to, what I’m going through is all normal. She called it the void. That place between being in treatment with everyone taking care of me and trying to find my new normal. And there lies the problem. What I thought was normal isn’t anymore and I need a little help finding it again.

I’m not sleeping well. I know the me pre-cancer was a very light sleeper and it wasn’t unusual for me to wake up at least once in the middle of the night. I know I didn’t sleep well through chemo either but this is different. I’m thinking it’s because of the hot flashes or night sweats. Some nights I wake up 5 or 6 times. I’ll feel wide awake, see that it’s only midnight or 2:30am or something and force myself back to sleep. I always wake up in between 4 and 5 am. Every night. Regardless of how many times I’ve been awake before then. And when I wake up between 4 and 5, it’s after a hot flash and more often than not I’m soaking wet and freezing cold. I get up, dry off, add new layers of clothing and crank the heat and hope I can go back to sleep. Usually not. I’ve tried going to bed early, hoping the longer I’m there, the longer I’ll feel like I slept. But it doesn’t work that way. Not having naps in the afternoon hasn’t helped either. I feel like I’m tired all the time. I’m hoping I either get used to it or it straightens itself out because I’m tired of being tired and I’m tired of not getting a normal night’s sleep. It just makes me wanna cry.

They say it takes just seconds for someone to make a first impression of you. As often as I’ve said I don’t care what people think of me, getting cancer makes me realize that I do care. I wear the wig and the foobs to make a ‘normal’ impression on people that don’t know me. Around my home I don’t wear them. Doing laundry in the common area I wear one of 3 head scarfs I have just because I hate my hair right now and the scarfs are pretty and keep my head and neck warm.
I was talking to a friend, bringing them up on the cancer news and they said it didn’t matter what I look like to the people who love me. My response was that it wasn’t the people who love me who are the issue for me, it’s the people who don’t know me I’m more concerned with. If I felt I could go out with my very short hair and my very flat chest and not have people take more than a passing interest in my appearance I would. I’m still not used to the sad and sometimes scared look in people’s eyes when they find out I had breast cancer. I see women with very short hair and I immediately look at their chest. Did/do they have cancer too or is the short hair a choice for them? If they had cancer, are they struggling with the cosmetic changes too or are they happy with the short hair and no boobs? I say cosmetic because it is. As women we all do little things to make ourselves look better, a little touch of lipstick or eyeshadow, a new blouse that flatters our figure, dying out the gray hair or adding streaks to it. Adding a wig and foobs is pretty much the same thing. The difference is I add them to look normal, not better.
It’s an emotional roller coaster ride. Some days I feel great. I fought a dragon and got scarred in the process but I won! The dragon is dead and I’m alive. Other days I feel defeated. The scars are too much and I wish I had my real hair back. And no matter how much the wig looks real, I can still feel how fake it is and am really self-conscious with it on. I know I can’t grow boobs back but they can be camouflaged so much easier than hair. Some days I get pissed off and feel cheated out of being normal, the scars are a poor trade off for having won the battle.

I have days like today (more than I care to admit to myself) where I just can’t seem to get it together emotionally. I’m not sure what sets it off, maybe today it was seeing my plastic surgeon, although I was having a hard time keeping it together on the drive to his office. Maybe it’s a smell or a word, I’m not sure. I just know that some days I feel like I’m right in the middle of all the treatment again. I feel so many different emotions that no amount of “act as if” or telling myself the treatment is done or trying to distract myself seems to stop the total and compete sadness, depression maybe, that I feel.
Maybe the plastic surgeon said it best today, even tho he was describing my scar. It’s indented. It healed nicely but it’s got lots a lumps and bumps around it. He says he can fix it when I’m ready if I ever want it fixed, to look like the other side of me. I cried in his office. Just the thought of more surgery really sent me over the edge. But maybe in a year or 2 or so I’ll want it fixed. He apologized for the implants not working out. I told him it was my body’s fault, not his.
For now, I feel like the scar. Indented. All lumpy and bumpy. And battered. Not even or balanced or whole. I feel like only part of a person. And then I feel worse because the cancer is gone and the treatment was over 5 weeks ago, not yesterday. But today it feels like yesterday and I feel indented.

I had my last radiology oncologist appointment today.  She’d double booked so I had to wait for 45 minutes.  I hate waiting.  Anyhow, she was satisfied with how the radiated site is healing.  She wasn’t happy that I’ve quit using the lotion.   She told me I need to see my family doctor every 6 months for the next 5 years for an exam.  I tried explaining, yet again, that I don’t have one but that seems to make people really uncomfortable for some reason.  I asked about getting an MRI or CT scan or whatever they are.  She says “we don’t do that, you need to see your family doctor for an exam.”   I asked what he’s going to examine.  All he’s going  to do is check my chest for lumps and bumps that shouldn’t be there.  I said I could do that, why do I need to see a doctor for that?  She couldn’t give me an answer.  She didn’t have an answer except to say “Everyone sees a GP.”  As it is, I’m going to be seeing my chemo oncologist on a regular basis anyway.
I also stopped in to see the radiology techs.  One of my ‘regulars’ was on her lunch but the other one was there.  She gave me a hug and was impressed with how good I looked.  She wanted to see how my nails were doing and again said the person that told me them lifting off the nail beds wasn’t related to chemo was nuts.  They may not be the doctors but boy, the doctors could learn a thing or 2 from them about compassion and understanding and just communicating in general.

I added a picture page.   I decided they should all be together instead of scattered throughout my posts.  Some are not pretty but they happened right along with the words I’ve posted so I felt they deserved to be here.   And I finally feel brave enough and confident enough to post them.   Be warned.  I’m not responsible if you can’t handle looking.

I had a really good weekend. Spent yesterday with my sister, lunch and shopping and some good laughs. We joked about my being a drama queen which led to my sister saying she just about cried when she saw my radiation burn, that for me to say it hurt to lift my arm didn’t really explain the extent of how bad it was. I dunno. Moaning and groaning and crying about it wasn’t going to make it go away any faster and I didn’t want my weekend with my mom and sister to be cancelled because I was in pain. Today I went for a walk. Shorter then we usually go but it’s all a step in the right direction.
Feeling sorry for myself over all this doesn’t do anyone any good, especially me. Hell, I’ve been in pain more or less for 8 months now. I’ve gotten used to feeling pain almost every day and feeling really tired every day. I really believe that if I’m going to get myself back I have to ‘act as if’ I am back. At least to do the best I think I can. Then I need to push it that one step further. I kinda have to look at it like exercising, the more you do, the more you can do. I feel like if I don’t push myself I will be stuck where I am which isn’t where I want to be. Right now I see myself at about 75%. When I hit 90% I’ll be happy.

I still can’t seem to stay a full day at work yet. Almost but not quite. I end up with brain mush, my body starts to ache and my throat gets sore cause it’s not used to talking so much. So I go home. I’m starting to push it a bit, worked a whole 6 hours today. Wahoo!. On a good note, things are starting to come back to me every day. I know the only way to remember it all again is to do it all again. And to go a little further every day. It’s taking more time that I wanted but I’m getting there.
On a bad note, I stubbed my toe and most of the nail is separated from the nail bed and wouldn’t ya know? Looking at all my toes, there’s others that are separating too. So it got my fingernails and my toenails. I almost think I should be shedding a layer of skin to go with the nails and the hair…