July 21, 2015 - ING

The data can be overwhelming, as I read paragraph after paragraph in preparation for an inservice I’m working on, but also in preparation for an upcoming appointment. The risk factors associated with the treatment of malignancy are numerous to say the least and continue to soar as time passes. The more your read, the more you wonder how in the world anyone survives anything at all. Radiation alone drastically increases your risks of secondary conditions: breast cancer (MRIs and mammograms every six month – or in some cases mastectomy), skin cancers (yearly dermatology appointments), colon cancer (colonoscopy every 5 years starting 10 years after your last radiation dose or age 35 – whichever is the latter), cardiac insufficiency (doppler and ekg 10 years after therapy end, echocardiogram every 2 years), pulmonary fibrosis (Baseline PFTs then routinely afterwards), and the list goes on. This doesn’t even begin to factor in those risks associated with chemotherapy dosing which only catapults the list into another realm.  As I continued to read, I could easily find myself overwhelmed at the numbers and wondering how in the world does one stay on top of all of that without falling into a spiral of paranoia at what might come.  I am also suddenly aware I am incredibly behind on my “routine” follow-up appointments. In fact, I had only met one task, mastectomy. So I’ve spent the last few days getting appointments scheduled and follow up calendars planned in an attempt at outsmarting fate. I most definitely see the needs for cancer patients to be enrolled in long-term care follow-up clinics and am wondering why I had not done the same for myself. It feels…fearful…knowing the data.

There is a fine line between fear and proactive, and I am working to maintain the latter instead of the falling prey to the former. I fully believe that God may have specific plans for my future in my health, just as he has used my mastectomy in so many ways, but I also believe he gives me a brain to try and circumvent medical mishap. So I choose to be purposeful moving forward in my medical follow-up. Dermatology appointment scheduled. Cardiology appointment in the works. Colonoscopy…..Ron, please hold my hand…also in the works. Pulmonary appointment, on the to-do list. And the others, I will get to you in good time. But first let me fit in a surgery to fix boob 2.2. First things first, right? Attitude adjustment in the works as well. While mastectomy created a good bit of disruption to my every day existence and that is ongoing in the immediate after each surgery, I would be a fool not to recognize the gifts it has brought in the process as well. Instead of embracing the bitterness of circumstance, I’m choosing to bring to the forefront the great. And I’m enlightened by how much better I know myself in the process. Isn’t it crazy how you absolutely know you have everything about yourself all figured out, but in the fast swoop of an unexpected circumstance you can find some undiscovered nooks and crannies of your personality? Or awareness of how much circumstance can mold you into something changed, could be better, could be worse, on the other side. My heart is much deeper for relationships here on this side. And my awareness of “what is on the outside is not always what is on the inside” is more finely tuned in my interactions with others I run into from day to day. We are continually morphing as we get from here to there. An additional little nugget I’ve gleaned is the appreciation of “while things can always be worse” that doesn’t mean I am not feeling every single moment of what I am in. Only you can measure how something affects you, there is no gold standard or bar to be set. Yes things can always be worse, but things are still your reality of here and now. And they may impact you deeply.

Navigating “post lymphoma” life for some reason feels pretty overwhelming right now. I am sure the breast surgery being in my immediate future might be the source of that, but also this preparation for preventing future medical mishaps which now clutters my calendar with no regard for co-inhabitants of the time slot. It all has to be worked in and it’s all for the good of me as a whole. It makes survival more active, less passive. Because surviving never really ends, does it? We will all always be surviving something. And while the event itself comes to an end (hopefully), we are left with the positive and negative aftermath that we incorporate into our everyday lives…forever…in some capacity each and every day. You never go back to life before malignancy, or divorce, or assault, or parenthood, or achievement. It’s there knitting its way into your decisions, and perspectives, and motivations, and fears. Conscious or not, it’s there influencing almost everything about you. And that is the way it will be each and every day moving forward.

Sometimes I feel better knowing the colonoscopy is NOT scheduled as that mandates the scope will never find an “aftermath”. But if I’m being truthful for myself, this thought process is choosing fear. And that fear is a method of survivorship I want very much not to embrace.

I am not a survivor. I am surviv-ING. It’s not a fixed point on the timeline, it’s the timeline itself. This, I finally understand.


Psalm 16:11 You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

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