This is not my story....and yet...it is.
Breast cancer five years after diagnosis
For me, the five year mark isn’t too far away. I’m at 4 ½ years (IN MY CASE 4 YEARS AWAY). What does that mean for me?
I think it means that I get to move from a once-every-six-months oncology visit to a once-a-year visit. But I don’t know that for sure. In October, I will have the chance to ask Mr. Oncologist.
I do not feel safe from recurrence but I do not worry about it regularly, either. When I hear about someone’s breast cancer recurring ten…fifteen years later my insides shudder. A shadow passes over me. Then I push it away.
Not because I have excellent coping skills, but because I have come to terms with the fact that worrying about recurrence is pointless. Except for taking care of myself, there is nothing else to do. There are no proactive steps to take or treatment decisions to make. I like the checklist to minimize the chances of recurrence offered by Life After Early Breast Cancer. It reminds me that finding time to exercise and trying to protect myself from stress is not selfish.
And if the beast returns some years from now, perhaps there will be new treatments available for me by then.
My youngest child is now almost 10. When I was diagnosed in March 2006 he was only in preschool. He’s still just a little guy who needs his mom, but at least I have passed an important threshold: he would remember me. That makes me feel good.
My quality of life is OK; I know lots of people who deal with more aches and pains and limitations than I do. My energy levels are normal and my hair long and thick. I am concerned about my bone density but I am researching the situation and I’m not (yet) in a panic about that.
Lots of people think that the five year mark is some magical moment when you can consider yourself to be “cured.” It is not. But daily dwelling on a someday-maybe event? I can’t. I don’t.
I think it means that I get to move from a once-every-six-months oncology visit to a once-a-year visit. But I don’t know that for sure. In October, I will have the chance to ask Mr. Oncologist.
I do not feel safe from recurrence but I do not worry about it regularly, either. When I hear about someone’s breast cancer recurring ten…fifteen years later my insides shudder. A shadow passes over me. Then I push it away.
Not because I have excellent coping skills, but because I have come to terms with the fact that worrying about recurrence is pointless. Except for taking care of myself, there is nothing else to do. There are no proactive steps to take or treatment decisions to make. I like the checklist to minimize the chances of recurrence offered by Life After Early Breast Cancer. It reminds me that finding time to exercise and trying to protect myself from stress is not selfish.
And if the beast returns some years from now, perhaps there will be new treatments available for me by then.
My youngest child is now almost 10. When I was diagnosed in March 2006 he was only in preschool. He’s still just a little guy who needs his mom, but at least I have passed an important threshold: he would remember me. That makes me feel good.
My quality of life is OK; I know lots of people who deal with more aches and pains and limitations than I do. My energy levels are normal and my hair long and thick. I am concerned about my bone density but I am researching the situation and I’m not (yet) in a panic about that.
Lots of people think that the five year mark is some magical moment when you can consider yourself to be “cured.” It is not. But daily dwelling on a someday-maybe event? I can’t. I don’t.
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