Help, I've become a hypochondriac!

monicaw...first of all take a deep breath and say "what i'm feeling is completely normal". For the past year, your life has been all about cancer...as you say, dressing up for chemo and smiling through radiation. When you're going through treatment, you're taking a proactive stand, doing something. Once treatment is done the fear begins to creep in that there is nothing to keep the cancer at bay.

I have been done with chemo for a little over a year. I can PROMISE you that it does get easier and you don't question every little pain or ache.

If you, like I did, are getting tired of giving away life's wonderful to fear, then get a little angry. I decided that I had lived 40 years as a woman WITHOUT cancer and less than a year as a woman with cancer. And I wasn't going to allow one year to color my judgement for the rest of my life. We are far far more than a diagnosis. We are woman who have been through a life changing experience and what was before is no more. I had to learn to let go of what I THOUGHT my future was going to look like and learn to embrace this new future. It's so hard but the only other choice is to as you say, give away moments. I refuse to give one more thing to cancer.

Having said all of this, I still have moments of fear. But they are just that....moments and then I go on.

I had an abnormal bone scan and had to follow up with a CT scan. Just today the nurse called me and told me it was TMJ and nothing more. I never thought I would cry tears of joy to have TMJ but I did.

Pretty soon you will notice that a day has gone by and you forgot you had cancer. Then maybe 2 or 3 days and then maybe a week. Just like grief, it lessens with time but just like grief, you can be right back in the middle of it if you let your thoughts run. I always say my mind is a dangerous place and I should not be allowed to go there alone.

You have left behind the woman who smiled through treatment but you have NOT stepped into the abyss. You have stepped into your NEW future, cancer-free and raring to go.

Blessings,
Karen

The message you posted is vastly reassuring to all of us who agonize the exact same way.

Today during a routine oncology follow-up visit, I spoke with a cherished nurse practitioner and said to her that one day, I will get tired of holding my breath and just breathe normally again. She replied Yes! You will! I didn't ask when. It is not going to be today. Maybe it will be next week, or next month, or next year.

Shortly after my surgery, a college professor mentioned that her mother had a mastectomy on her 65th birthday, and that her mom is now 85 and going strong. Today, I was thinking about maybe asking the college professor to ask her mom at what point did she stop holding her breath, but I thought maybe it would be unfair to the woman if she had finally established a nice sense of equilibrium.

Each of us can be brave for a moment to help someone else along, but everyone shares the same ground you are on. Be patient with yourself. Maybe we'll stop worrying next week, or next month.
Love,
Denise