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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