“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love.”-Washington Irving
It has been awhile since I have written anything on here. Sometimes I just don’t know what to write, sometimes I don’t know if anyone is listening and sometimes I feel like there is no point in writing anything unless I have a crisis to talk about. Maybe I am at that point where I think it is silly to still whine about my breast cancer but as it always seems to another issue came up. I have been doing OK lately emotionally and physically.
Ever since my diagnosis I have not dwelled on it. I never worry about recurrence. I see fellow survivors talking about how nervous they are when they go to their six month oncologist visit announcing when they get the results of their tumor markers, but I never even think about my results after my bloodwork.Last week my friend Karin asked me when the anniversary of my mastectomy is and I didn’t know. I don’t know what my “cancerversary” is so yesterday when I went to yet another one of my six month visits to my oncologist I didn’t think about the fact that it has been five years since my diagnosis and nearly five years since I started talking the awful drug Tamoxifen.
Since my regular oncologist moved offices I switched doctors. My new doctor was so cold he was almost robotic. I asked him when I had started taking Tamoxifen and he found that it was August 2011. He told me that I could take it for another five years because a lot of people take it for ten. I said, “I would like him to take it for one day and tell me how you feel.” He almost smiled and we agreed I could stop taking it on August 31st. I wanted to celebrate, to cry happy tears but my doctor was emotionless. Realizing that five years generally means remission I asked him . “How does this remission thing work?” He said in his deadpan voice, “Oh, we don’t really do that anymore. Basically at this point you are cured.” No biggie. Again, I wanted to cry happy tears but he was emotionless, maybe numbed by the countless cancer patients he has seen over the years. I told him I never really harped on the chance of recurrence and he said, “some people go to support groups all the time and worry.”
So now I have three months left taking the horrible Tamoxifen. I know it will not be an easy transition, a quick fix. But I do hope that one day I will feel better. My greatest fear is I go off my Tamoxifen and I realize I am actually crazy. It’s not like my moods were stable before. What if this … wave of sadness still comes after me when I stop taking it? The irony of it all is that I may be in menopause now, I would not know since Tamoxifen gives you menopausal symptoms. So, who knows what the future will bring. I plan on researching herbal supplements and foods that may help my transition easier.
Now that I am “basically cured at this point.” What will I write about from now on? Is it silly to have a breast cancer blog when you are “cured?” Stay tuned…