Question/Request

"what is it that never is the same again?  Is it emotionally, physically, etc.."

Yes..... your entire life changes in many ways from the moment you hear "You have Cancer" and the "everyone's different" mantra is the same.

"T"

I truly feel like EVERYTHING is different.  Not bad..just not the same  My appearance has changed, my tastes, my outlook on life, my faith has deepened, my family is closer.  Cancer is a horrible, nasty, mean thing.  I was blessed to have a lot of good come from it.  I was recently in a video at church about people who have gone through very trying times.  I said this in my part "This year has been full of doctors, surgeons, hospitals, surgeries, procedures, treatments and recovery.  BUT...it's also been full of miracles, blessings, love and healing." 

I can't imagine treatments forever.  Prayers for your friend! 

Hi,

The entire spectrums of both physical and emotions is in play for cancer survivors. Some return 100% physically to the way life was before cancer; I doubt anyone really returns 100% mentally pre-cancer as there lingers in the back of the mind that cancer is lurking around in some dark and hidden place just waiting for the right time to roar back to life; it is just fact that once one has cancer, there is greater chance of getting it again vs those who never have it.

Some lose their ability to swallow for life due to scarring from rads for example and forever reliant on a PEG for nutrition. Some later experience teeth breaking off or having their jaw disintegrate due to radiation destroying the bone. Others experience thyroid disfunction forever. The list goes on and on - short, medium, and long term side effects.

Then, there is the most scary end of the spectrum - Recurrence, which leads to repeats of what you folks have suffered thus far plus the diminished potential for good outcomes. Lastly, coming into focus is the world of pallative treatment and hospice in some cases.

Sorry to paint the full picture but such is the truth about this horrid disease. Personally, treatment is now in the rear view mirror after speding all my energies and focus on getting through that aspect of cancer survivorship, I now face the recovery phase which in fact is far more opaque as the future is unknowable and particulary so for we cancer survivors who have additional random factors and added curves and potholes into our road of life.

Enjoy and focus on each day. Don't look too far ahead as it generally does not seem to help overall; at least that is what I am discovering now.

Best to you both,

Don

Life is never the same. I agree with the physical and mental explanations above. But even if all the saliva comes back, the taste buds work and you are NED for the rest of your days, life is never the same.  What might used to be a big deal is no longer abig deal. Maybe you appreciate the little stuff more. Maybe you appreciate your family and friends more. You certainly appreciate life more.

I was the caregiver, not the patient. But hubby and I both have different attitudes about lots of things. We take less for granted, we appreciate more. And we are both a little softer around the edges.  

Life is never the same after you hear "you have cancer." but it is not necessarily worse. 

Deb

We have pretty much the same experience as others have said.

Dad finished treatment in Sept. 2012 and this spring he began to be his "new himself". He is pretty much the same as he was before, but a lot more caring, loving... he is taking care of himself more. But we as a family get more paranoid. I got paranoid and all those little aches and pains in my body always scare me: what if it is something serious. I don't want even to think what if dad's cancer returns... In my mind I blocked it completely with all those good scans he got till now. I can't imagine what it would be like if he gets sick again.

But Dad is ok... I don't know how he feels emotionally - whether he is paranoid or scared too. He was always a rock, a really strong man - emotionally and physically. He's been through a lot in his life, so I think that this cancer just made him stronger. The good think about surviving cancer is that we all enjoy each other more. We appreciate time together, we love being together... Life is much more beautiful now.

Dad still has problems with saliva, still likes to eat food that has more moisture, but is gaining weight again anyway. He has problems with taste too. His neck skin looks pigmented - so we always have this little reminder of those radiations. And his shoulder hurts, but all in all, he is great! And we got used to this new normal.

I've learned to accept and thoroughly enjoy John's abi-normal. As you can tell I take everything less seriously. I am not suppose to be looking at the green side of the grass so I am going to enjoy the extra days weeks months years I've been given. Kinda tough to put to words, I guess you have to live the hell to enjoy the heaven.

Dad will smile at things he never smiled at before and may even do things he never thought about doing before. I tell my kids their Mother and I are spending their inheritance.

Today is a very good day for me to answer your post.  Today I am exactly 6 months out of treatment but, more importantly I am exactly one year out of being diagnosed.  That day (the day the Doc said "you have cancer") I think will always rank as the most profound in my life.  Not the most important by a long shot, but the most profound.  The car drive from the Doc's office to home and then the two hours alone before my wife got home from work were nothing but fears and tears.  Fears that my life was ending and all the things I had hoped to do would be left undone.  Tears that I would be leaving my best friend and sure I hadn't done enough to prepare.  Holding each other on the couch that night, both frightened and looking to a future with radically different outcomes, a new closeness developed that I didn't think was possible.

The understatement of the year would be to say that my treatment wasn't pleasant.  The good news is literally every day I feel better than the day before.  The bad news is there are times when I just know the cancer is there lurking, waiting.  Yesterday was my six month CT scan.  They scanned from my neck to my pelvis.  Intellectually I know I'm probably still NED, but all last night, every so often, a very quiet voice would say, "what if it's back", "what if it's back".

I think that before the diagnosis most of us didn't really think or dwell on our mortality.  For me, that's the big change.  The scale has tipped to the other side and I know that I'm on the down side of the curve and hopefully I'll use what's left well.

Your dad will make it thorough treatment.  He will get back physically.  But don't be surprised when he hugs you a lot more and sometimes gets teary for no apparent reason. You are his little girl and he hopes to be there for all of your milestones.

My best to you and your family.

Joe