Cancer is No Wallflower

Would you believe that Lucille can actually be boring at times? I actually spend long stretches of time feeling (dare I say it?) normal. Like now -- I'm waiting for the lab test that determines my chemo status; I'm waiting to recover from one treatment before another treatment begins; I'm waiting for the apology letter from the lab stating "Oops, you don't have cancer. Our mistake! Here's a gift certificate for ice cream. No hard feelings!" (Okay, not true...this phase has passed...really. But heck, I'd take ice cream over cancer any day!)

Recouperation from surgery has also been mostly, well -- boring. (I even felt well enough for a hike with Daniel today -- and another unapologetic selfie!) I'm healing well, except for some lingering nerve issues under my arm. The surgeon explained that there are major nerves running through the area where the lymph node was removed. While the nerves were not cut, they were stretched and fondled in the surgical process, and they didn't like it. In some spots I'm numb. In other places, I get occassional shots of pain. (I compare it to having an earthworm in my armpit playing the trombone. I twist my arm a certain way and "breee-oooop!" It's the weirdest sensation!)

By far, the hardest part of recovery from the surgery was the day I had to remove my bandages. While certainly not comparable to a full mastectomy (see section on "survivor's" guilt below), a lumpectomy comes with some apprehension of its own. I wondered what kind of changes I'd see -- whether things would "match up," so to speak. I wondered what the scar would look like. Daniel kindly stayed with me through the whole event. I think I squeezed his hand harder than during Maggie's birth! Thankfully, the end result was more pleasing than I had prepared myself for. While there are definitely some visible scars and modifications, John Q. Public is pretty much unaware that anything happened to me. I even had to pack up all the Laurel and Hardy/Abbot and Costello jokes I had prepared for the blog. Oh well....

We did receive some very good news after the surgery. My thyroid nodules were benign. (Evidently, some women are lucky enough to battle thryoid cancer at the same time as breast cancer. This will not be my journey. thank goodness. Plus, it's hard to think of a good masculine name to complement Lucille. It's best we didn't have to add that dance to the ticket!) The post-surgical lab confirmed there was no spread to the lymph nodes. So, as the surgeon predicted, the cancer had not moved beyond the initial tumor site. Finally, the tumor was removed in its entirety (those in the know call that "negative margins"). No more surgeries are needed.

And so, in the midst of all this boring news, I come to the topic of "survivor's" guilt. It's not a completely accurate phrase to use, but it approximates my recent feelings about my cancer. I feel very lucky to have caught this early. I feel very lucky to be able to choose a lumpectomy as a treatment option. I know others whose struggles are more complicated and more dire. I have a close friend at this very moment fighting against a very advanced cancer in several organs. Suddenly my cancer looks like a splinter. Incredibly, I traveled from earth-jarring fear a month ago to now feeling like I got off easy. My counselor-trained mind knows to scold myself over this, but it's my frame of mind at the moment. (By the way, I have a feeling when I start radiation treatment and when/if I end up needing chemo, I won't feel so lucky.)

In the midst of all the roller coaster emotions, it mostly helps me to pray -- prayers of thanks that my cancer is treatable; prayers of intercession for other friends in the midst of some serious battles; prayers of peace and comfort for all of us. Because even when Lucille is a boring dance partner, she is never a wallflower.

Posted with Blogsy