Within the last couple of months my hot flashes have come back with a vengeance. They were very intense when I first started Tamoxifen, then they pretty much stopped. And now they are back. They are terribly uncomfortable but really not a huge deal. A couple weeks ago I was in a meeting at work when a hot flash came along, and my friend sitting next to me started to fan me with some paper while I continued to work on my computer. Another person in the meeting, who is extremely nice but doesn't know me well, remarked that I am "too young" for hot flashes. I responded by saying that it is because of the cancer. All she could say, over and over again, was "haven't you been through enough?" That question has been on my mind ever since she asked it. Have I been through enough already? I think of the growth that came through my cancer experience, and I don't think God is finished with me yet. Do I want to do cancer again? Not at all. But, I know that no matter what comes my way I absolutely trust my life to God. So, have I been through enough? I'm not really sure.
To change the subject completely, let's talk Farrell's. After my last surgery I was super lazy and quit working out for about six months. Last month Jen and I went back to Farrell's. Getting out of bed is harder this time around than it ever was before. I have had to miss quite a few classes because of work, which makes it tougher. But, I do love kickboxing. Today I was punching and kicking away, wearing my pink cancer survivor shirt, when Fight Song by Rachel Platten came on. That song always makes me want to cry. But today I decided to stop the tears and instead to punch harder. To kick harder. To do more sit ups as fast as possible. Because I am a survivor and a pretty tough one at that.
Friday, May 26, 2017
Monday, May 8, 2017
I'm back...not the cancer...just me
There have been a few times over the last many months when I've thought about writing again. I said good-bye to this blog, though, so it seemed a little weird to start again. But I like writing. And even though I live a boring life now (for the most part) I still get the itch to write every once in a while. So, here we go again.
First, let me bring you up to speed on all things cancer. I had a revision surgery back in September. The plastic surgeon tried to fix some puffiness on my side and at the same time did some fat transfers around my implants. I was pretty thrilled with the results of the fat transfer - I really want to do it again! - but the puffiness remains. I'm fine with it in the end, though, and I officially graduated from plastic surgery in January.
I've learned that when you're a cancer survivor small physical ailments quickly turn into a big deal. Last November I had some pain in my armpit. The oncologist ruled out cancer pretty quickly, but before I knew it I was tossed into a double-wide wheelchair and had my entire right arm ultrasounded to rule out blood clots (a potential side effect of my medication). In March I had some abdominal pain and found myself receiving a uterine biopsy and diagnostic ultrasound. It wasn't cancer, but there were areas of increased echotexture indicating possible fibroids (another side effect of my medication). And then today I had a bone scan. I've been having hip pain - pretty intense at some times - and we had to rule out the possibility of cancer finding a new home in my bones. The scan was clean, and the pain could be the result of a number of things. The oncologist's nurse told me to take it easy with kickboxing (hahahaha, that's not going to happen since kicking the bag is about my favorite thing!). All of these episodes were a little stressful, not totally fun, but a reminder that in the end, no matter the result of any test, I will be fine. God's will for my life is good, and perfect, and suffering on my part is an opportunity to glorify him. I'm so glad I have that perspective.
In my Sunday school class we are going through Psalm 139 and I have really been enjoying it. This past week we were in verses 7-12, which focus on God's omnipresence. I love verses 9-10: "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me." Even when I'm having radioactive material being injected into my vein, when I'm more or less tied down going into a claustrophobic scanning tube, God is there. What comfort that provides!
Okay, friends, I feel better now! Yay for writing, on my deck, with my flowers and my cat and the sunshine and the birds singing.
First, let me bring you up to speed on all things cancer. I had a revision surgery back in September. The plastic surgeon tried to fix some puffiness on my side and at the same time did some fat transfers around my implants. I was pretty thrilled with the results of the fat transfer - I really want to do it again! - but the puffiness remains. I'm fine with it in the end, though, and I officially graduated from plastic surgery in January.
I've learned that when you're a cancer survivor small physical ailments quickly turn into a big deal. Last November I had some pain in my armpit. The oncologist ruled out cancer pretty quickly, but before I knew it I was tossed into a double-wide wheelchair and had my entire right arm ultrasounded to rule out blood clots (a potential side effect of my medication). In March I had some abdominal pain and found myself receiving a uterine biopsy and diagnostic ultrasound. It wasn't cancer, but there were areas of increased echotexture indicating possible fibroids (another side effect of my medication). And then today I had a bone scan. I've been having hip pain - pretty intense at some times - and we had to rule out the possibility of cancer finding a new home in my bones. The scan was clean, and the pain could be the result of a number of things. The oncologist's nurse told me to take it easy with kickboxing (hahahaha, that's not going to happen since kicking the bag is about my favorite thing!). All of these episodes were a little stressful, not totally fun, but a reminder that in the end, no matter the result of any test, I will be fine. God's will for my life is good, and perfect, and suffering on my part is an opportunity to glorify him. I'm so glad I have that perspective.
In my Sunday school class we are going through Psalm 139 and I have really been enjoying it. This past week we were in verses 7-12, which focus on God's omnipresence. I love verses 9-10: "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me." Even when I'm having radioactive material being injected into my vein, when I'm more or less tied down going into a claustrophobic scanning tube, God is there. What comfort that provides!
Okay, friends, I feel better now! Yay for writing, on my deck, with my flowers and my cat and the sunshine and the birds singing.
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