After Breast Cancer

Hi Harleys:

Mary is so RIGHT! And all of it is so normal. I don't know a single woman who got through the first few years, post treatment, without worries and issues to work through at some point.

This is going to be long...so be prepared!Ha.

Firstly, for most of us, being told we have cancer, is terrifying. We haven't time to really pull ourselves together before surgery and whatever treatment is to follow, begins. That's a double blow really. It's very taxing emotionally and then we somehow finish treatment and feel that we have at least one or two sane cells remaining in our body and then, BAM...now we feel abandoned...scared, set adrift and wonder where that one sane cell went. We no longer have that security of treatment and someone or other on our healtcare team watching over us constantly. This seems to be a very common time for mega fears to really surface. ALL kinds of fears.

We also may not have the same responses we used to have to ordinary things in our lives. That can confuse and surprise us too. When we're so compromised and just trying to stay afloat, everything can make us afraid, nervous, ill or think we're going nuts. It's also a time of tremendous change and growth.

As I've stated on this site before, I believe that we need to include grief in our healing process. We're conditioned that when we get "sick", then we don't whine and we get better and just carry on as before. Not true, although people seem to want us to do just that, after cancer. We can't possibly be the same wife, mother, daughter, sister or friend that we were before. A thing of huge proportions has happened to us and it seems that only we who have been through it can really understand the dimensions of it. For me, I allowed myself to grieve and cry for what had happened to me. It was a process and not a big, all at once and done thing. Pity is not the same thing though. We cannot get onto pity trips too often and continue to live well. I'm talking the kind of grief that is similar to what one may feel at the loss of a good friend...that sadness, feeling the loss and saying goodbye to what was. To who we were, because we've been in a terrible life valley and we are no longer the same person anymore. This ugly beast just swooped down and grabbed us by the hair of our heads and flew us off to scary places, places which in an ideal world, no one would ever go. It tormented us and shook our very foundation of what we thought life was all about. This beast just kept flying us around by our hair (until he finally rendered us bald in some cases). Mostly on moonless nights, (and weren't so many of them pitch black?) so we couldn't really see where we were going because he didn't want us to have any landmarks for finding our way back! But ha ha, we had surprises for this beast. We did find our way back. Our hair even grew back, scars began to heal, inside and out. So, chew on that a while, beasty! We can choose to kick his **** all the way back to where ever he came from and find healing, peace and even serenity. We may prefer to focus on damning this beast for where he took us and the fear he gave us but we can choose instead to work on finding all the joy and good in life and show him who's got the power after all. No matter whatever comes, no one can ever take that kind of enlightenment from us.

I worked a lot of this out while meditating and doing Yoga daily. Different things work for different people and we all need to find what works for us and get about it. I believe that only then, can we begin to rebuild who we are, recognizing our strengths and needs and facing the new tomorrows a bit lighter for having shed our old skins. Like a snake, his skin won't shed if he just curls up. It's work and he has to crawl through lots of rough patches, that can be painful, in order to get rid of that old skin. Of course, we've got one up on the snake...most of us don't also go virtually blind while we're in the renewal process. This can show us some light to follow. We can still see up ahead a bit even if we don't recognize what we're seeing at first or know how to get there.

One thing which could be causing your physical problems: When we're in a hyper state all the time, our reisitance begins to wear down and we can develop all manner and kind of ailments. They really hurt and they really make us feel sick. I've always considered these kinds of situations as a message from our own spirit saying: slow down and take it easy...get rid of some stress, sister.

I don't believe that any of the things we feel after or during our bc experience to be
"abnormal". Let's face it...how normal is having bc anyway and what is a "normal" response to it? Just don't worry about what other's think and take care of yourself...be gentle with and kind to yourself. After where we've been, we all deserve at least that as a starting point. We have to fight our way OUT of allowing our fears to rule our lives. I sort of equate it to something my son would do when he was very small and I'd be reading him a bedtime story and rocking him. He'd be almost asleep and too tired to do his part, after a while. Which was turning the pages. When he no longer turned the pages, I'd stop reading at the end of the page. He'd always say, in this sleepy little voice:
"Turn a page, Mommie". He wanted to hear more of the story but was too tired to turn another page. I always told him, in that soft voice we reserve for when our little one's are sleeping, that we'd turn another page tomorrow. And we always did. I knew at that point, that I could put him into his little bed and cover him up and not hear a peep. Through chemo and radiation, when I felt my most tired, my most emotionally zapped, I'd do the most I could in any given day...and then I'd say to myself: "Turn another page tomorrow". Although I didn't always finish the new page the next day, somehow, I still managed to always turn that next page and at least get started. If I needed help turning it, I'd ask for it, because turning that page was my emotional life line. It represented where I was going and where I intended to be. It was what got me through. Every day. Some days, I'd meditate with the sole purpose of dropping my worries into the "recycle bin" and go back and deal with them when I felt stronger and ready.

Being a writer I tend to use metaphors for a lot of things in life. Not just in print but within my soul...to the core of myself. At other times, there's nothing to do but call a spade a spade and go ahead and play it, straight up. It just depends upon what works for you. The most important thing is to find whatever that thing is and work at it till you get a nice patina going...make it shine. Heaven knows, I began with what looked like an old piece of coal from the middle ages but guess what...that little nugget now shines and I'm proud of that. It's one hell of a long way to travel. I know there are other ladies here who can share some of their ways of coping also. I continue to learn more all the time...to experience new things on different levels than before. In many ways, I'm a new "me" and in other ways, I'm not so different. I decide what changes I want to make and when. That is the one power within me...the one thing I can control and I value it highly. It helps me to keep my bc experience back there where it belongs.

You won't feel as you do now forever. Trust yourself and believe in yourself. Have faith that you will find your way and be patient in getting there. Sometimes, we may lose a little ground but it's nothing to flip out over. Just get working again. Taking one thing at a time. Don't be afraid to stare right into your soul. No excuses, no games. (I guess this would sort of be the time to call a spade a spade) and ask yourself: "What is it that I need and want?" You can't include in your answer, that you want this to never have happened to you. That fact cannot be changed. We're only in control of our response to things in life. Not the things themselves. We also can't predict the future, so why would we expend energy trying to figure out a way to do that? Once you can identify your needs, then you can begin to figure out how to best get there. Get whatever help you need and go for it. Write it all down if you want to, read it over and add to or change it. Let it be a work in progress, if it helps.

It's very important to be blatantly honest with your doctor(s) about how you're feeling emotionally, as well as physically. No feelings you're having should be new or come as a surprise to your doc. If he/she doesn't, however, respond in a concerned and caring manner and address it straight away, then it may be time to think about a different doctor. One who's going to take of you as the whole person you are. Many other things work too: counseling, antidepressant/antianxiety meds,
online and/or in-person groups, self help books, throwing ourselves into attention to our diets and exercise, making a time in each day which is just for us. Anything which empowers us toward progress. Something which lets us know that we can and will get through this, whole, positive and perhaps even better than we were before bc. And the patience not to expect it to all happen overnight.

I have a few friends who opted for the medications early on, and they really helped, until they could get their feet under them. To add insult to injury,
menopause/chemopause is tough enough, physically and emotionally and if you're among those of us who fit that category, then it's just fuel to our many flames...one more thing on our plates to sort out and deal with. It's a complex situation to say the least.

I guess I've gotten carried away here. I know this is long, partly because I've had two terrible weeks to cope with and because I can feel the desperation in your post. I want so much for you to understand that you're not going nuts and you're not alone. The sharing is helpful to me too, because, it's a time to remind myself that I CAN get through yet another tragedy, (which is completely unrelated to cancer) and still connect with those remaining "sane" cells that are rattling round inside me and work thorough still more pain. I just got over a flu which zapped me big time (am feeling much better now) in addition to my 6 month round of mammo's, (for the first time they needed one extra film, just to be "overly cautious", safe and sure. Of course this little hiccup with the mammo had to come at a time when I was already a wreck, as I'd watched my son's best friend die tragically two days before. He was so young and such a beautiful young man. At such a time, it's easy, very easy, to feel that life is unfair. We speak to one another in muted voices, quoting that old adage that "only the good die young" or "God wanted him and so he took him", etc. So I let myself get angry for a bit and thought, yeah, well, what good is it to be so young and die before you can share all your goodness with others in the world? To really live and love and even find out who you are. If ever there was a cheat, then this is it. I also questioned just what's the lesson in this, except pain and misery. I got over that thinking but just about that time, I got the flu. No small wonder...I'd not been sleeping well and wasn't eating much either. Every time my head would hit the pillow, I could again see this young man lying there and would again experience all the feelings I'd had at the time. Absolute shock, fear and helplessness...a terror. It came in waves and lasted almost a full week before I could get much sleep at all. I'd had to cancel my check up with my onc. last week due to the flu and finally saw her today. Everything looks good, counts are fine, etc.. So that's a positive amidst the negatives right now and I'm grateful for it.

I initially had put my own emotions on hold because my primary focus was to be there for my son. At 14, he's never lost anyone close to him before and of course, has no experience to count on when the pain gets overwhelming. The school was great and the counselor's were there for the kids and brought in a special crisis team to make sure someone was there for them all. My son had a particularly hard time for the first 3 or 4 days and I was amazed at how these young people, most of them never having dealt with loss before, pulled together and supported one another, 24/7. The kids erected a beautiful memorial and found positive ways to grieve and they're all on more solid footing with the loss, now. Once I knew my son was ok, my guard fell away and only then could I begin to deal with my emotions. I'm still hanging in but not sleeping so great every single night. The instant replays coming into my head are less frequent now but I find myself, (particularly at bedtime)restless, too warm, too cool, overly tired and unable to find a single comfortable spot in our bed. My dr. told me that it was a terrible shock to my system and then having the flu, interfered with my ordinary sleep schedule and that it should even out in another week or ten days and offered sleep meds if I wanted them. If not, then I'm to let her know straight away. I declined the sleep meds. Most such drugs make me sick and/or hyper, so it's best I stay away from them unless I've gotten down to a no other choice situation.

Now the fun part! And you thought I was done! Ha. I'd taken a spill on our pool deck back in August. Result: a broken toe,
torn MCL, two sprained tendons in the ole left foot and a bruise or two. Everything healed well with some physical therapy and NSAID's...except the sprain in my instep. It's refusing to cooperate. I saw the orthopedic doc yesterday and since the meds haven't helped, he suggested a walking cast for 4 to 6 weeks, in an effort to avoid surgery. No other options. Like everyone else, I have this aversion to surgery, so I'm hobbling about with a cast up to my knee. I was getting about better before the cast, but I had compensated by walking around in my sneakers, and turning my foot to the outside. It caused little or no pain and it became my ordinary walking habit over the past month. I don't have any physical pain to speak of right now, but am on the verge of feeling sorry for myself just the same. I'm not happy with this cast business. Particularly at this time of year. Well, I'll do the program and hope for the best. The doc ramped up my NSAID to double. Maybe that will do the trick, in conjunction with the cast. If not, then I have no problem walking around the rest of my life on the outer side of my foot! In the greater scheme of things, my foot really doesn't seem like much of a deal. The kind of thing I'd normally not even mention. I know that it's because it came as a punctuation to all the other hurdles I've experienced so closely together. Right now, it makes things seem a bit overwhelming.

Guess I'm done bending everyone's ear! I just really needed to share and I really hope, Harley's, that I've maybe given you some things to think about as options, as you begin your journey of discovery! The primary thing to remember, is that you're NOT nuts. If you are,then we've all been (or perhaps are)nuts too and we're in the best of company! And guess what...it's perfectly normal too. Don't spend anymore time worrying that you're going nuts. Accept your feelings and try to understand them and
do whatever you can, starting now, to begin feeling better!

Please let us know how it's going. My thoughts are with you, right behind this big warm hug.

Love, light and laughter,
Ink

Oh my dear sister, of course. I have had fingernail cancer, tongue cancer, hair cancer and every headache is a metastasize. Yes, we all panic with every little pain. Things we would have just ignored another life ago. But, not to say you shouldn't be vigilant. However, if you are really in a down spell, get on antidepressants for a time and get your feet back under you. They are not addictive and really do wonders. I think they are heaven sent. But, for heavens sake, you bet we all are in the same boat. I am now 4 years post and going on an Asian Cruise for a month. Screw the cancer, at least for awhile! Gentle hugs, Shirlann

inkblot said:

Hi Harleys:

Mary is so RIGHT! And all of it is so normal. I don't know a single woman who got through the first few years, post treatment, without worries and issues to work through at some point.

This is going to be long...so be prepared!Ha.

Firstly, for most of us, being told we have cancer, is terrifying. We haven't time to really pull ourselves together before surgery and whatever treatment is to follow, begins. That's a double blow really. It's very taxing emotionally and then we somehow finish treatment and feel that we have at least one or two sane cells remaining in our body and then, BAM...now we feel abandoned...scared, set adrift and wonder where that one sane cell went. We no longer have that security of treatment and someone or other on our healtcare team watching over us constantly. This seems to be a very common time for mega fears to really surface. ALL kinds of fears.

We also may not have the same responses we used to have to ordinary things in our lives. That can confuse and surprise us too. When we're so compromised and just trying to stay afloat, everything can make us afraid, nervous, ill or think we're going nuts. It's also a time of tremendous change and growth.

As I've stated on this site before, I believe that we need to include grief in our healing process. We're conditioned that when we get "sick", then we don't whine and we get better and just carry on as before. Not true, although people seem to want us to do just that, after cancer. We can't possibly be the same wife, mother, daughter, sister or friend that we were before. A thing of huge proportions has happened to us and it seems that only we who have been through it can really understand the dimensions of it. For me, I allowed myself to grieve and cry for what had happened to me. It was a process and not a big, all at once and done thing. Pity is not the same thing though. We cannot get onto pity trips too often and continue to live well. I'm talking the kind of grief that is similar to what one may feel at the loss of a good friend...that sadness, feeling the loss and saying goodbye to what was. To who we were, because we've been in a terrible life valley and we are no longer the same person anymore. This ugly beast just swooped down and grabbed us by the hair of our heads and flew us off to scary places, places which in an ideal world, no one would ever go. It tormented us and shook our very foundation of what we thought life was all about. This beast just kept flying us around by our hair (until he finally rendered us bald in some cases). Mostly on moonless nights, (and weren't so many of them pitch black?) so we couldn't really see where we were going because he didn't want us to have any landmarks for finding our way back! But ha ha, we had surprises for this beast. We did find our way back. Our hair even grew back, scars began to heal, inside and out. So, chew on that a while, beasty! We can choose to kick his **** all the way back to where ever he came from and find healing, peace and even serenity. We may prefer to focus on damning this beast for where he took us and the fear he gave us but we can choose instead to work on finding all the joy and good in life and show him who's got the power after all. No matter whatever comes, no one can ever take that kind of enlightenment from us.

I worked a lot of this out while meditating and doing Yoga daily. Different things work for different people and we all need to find what works for us and get about it. I believe that only then, can we begin to rebuild who we are, recognizing our strengths and needs and facing the new tomorrows a bit lighter for having shed our old skins. Like a snake, his skin won't shed if he just curls up. It's work and he has to crawl through lots of rough patches, that can be painful, in order to get rid of that old skin. Of course, we've got one up on the snake...most of us don't also go virtually blind while we're in the renewal process. This can show us some light to follow. We can still see up ahead a bit even if we don't recognize what we're seeing at first or know how to get there.

One thing which could be causing your physical problems: When we're in a hyper state all the time, our reisitance begins to wear down and we can develop all manner and kind of ailments. They really hurt and they really make us feel sick. I've always considered these kinds of situations as a message from our own spirit saying: slow down and take it easy...get rid of some stress, sister.

I don't believe that any of the things we feel after or during our bc experience to be
"abnormal". Let's face it...how normal is having bc anyway and what is a "normal" response to it? Just don't worry about what other's think and take care of yourself...be gentle with and kind to yourself. After where we've been, we all deserve at least that as a starting point. We have to fight our way OUT of allowing our fears to rule our lives. I sort of equate it to something my son would do when he was very small and I'd be reading him a bedtime story and rocking him. He'd be almost asleep and too tired to do his part, after a while. Which was turning the pages. When he no longer turned the pages, I'd stop reading at the end of the page. He'd always say, in this sleepy little voice:
"Turn a page, Mommie". He wanted to hear more of the story but was too tired to turn another page. I always told him, in that soft voice we reserve for when our little one's are sleeping, that we'd turn another page tomorrow. And we always did. I knew at that point, that I could put him into his little bed and cover him up and not hear a peep. Through chemo and radiation, when I felt my most tired, my most emotionally zapped, I'd do the most I could in any given day...and then I'd say to myself: "Turn another page tomorrow". Although I didn't always finish the new page the next day, somehow, I still managed to always turn that next page and at least get started. If I needed help turning it, I'd ask for it, because turning that page was my emotional life line. It represented where I was going and where I intended to be. It was what got me through. Every day. Some days, I'd meditate with the sole purpose of dropping my worries into the "recycle bin" and go back and deal with them when I felt stronger and ready.

Being a writer I tend to use metaphors for a lot of things in life. Not just in print but within my soul...to the core of myself. At other times, there's nothing to do but call a spade a spade and go ahead and play it, straight up. It just depends upon what works for you. The most important thing is to find whatever that thing is and work at it till you get a nice patina going...make it shine. Heaven knows, I began with what looked like an old piece of coal from the middle ages but guess what...that little nugget now shines and I'm proud of that. It's one hell of a long way to travel. I know there are other ladies here who can share some of their ways of coping also. I continue to learn more all the time...to experience new things on different levels than before. In many ways, I'm a new "me" and in other ways, I'm not so different. I decide what changes I want to make and when. That is the one power within me...the one thing I can control and I value it highly. It helps me to keep my bc experience back there where it belongs.

You won't feel as you do now forever. Trust yourself and believe in yourself. Have faith that you will find your way and be patient in getting there. Sometimes, we may lose a little ground but it's nothing to flip out over. Just get working again. Taking one thing at a time. Don't be afraid to stare right into your soul. No excuses, no games. (I guess this would sort of be the time to call a spade a spade) and ask yourself: "What is it that I need and want?" You can't include in your answer, that you want this to never have happened to you. That fact cannot be changed. We're only in control of our response to things in life. Not the things themselves. We also can't predict the future, so why would we expend energy trying to figure out a way to do that? Once you can identify your needs, then you can begin to figure out how to best get there. Get whatever help you need and go for it. Write it all down if you want to, read it over and add to or change it. Let it be a work in progress, if it helps.

It's very important to be blatantly honest with your doctor(s) about how you're feeling emotionally, as well as physically. No feelings you're having should be new or come as a surprise to your doc. If he/she doesn't, however, respond in a concerned and caring manner and address it straight away, then it may be time to think about a different doctor. One who's going to take of you as the whole person you are. Many other things work too: counseling, antidepressant/antianxiety meds,
online and/or in-person groups, self help books, throwing ourselves into attention to our diets and exercise, making a time in each day which is just for us. Anything which empowers us toward progress. Something which lets us know that we can and will get through this, whole, positive and perhaps even better than we were before bc. And the patience not to expect it to all happen overnight.

I have a few friends who opted for the medications early on, and they really helped, until they could get their feet under them. To add insult to injury,
menopause/chemopause is tough enough, physically and emotionally and if you're among those of us who fit that category, then it's just fuel to our many flames...one more thing on our plates to sort out and deal with. It's a complex situation to say the least.

I guess I've gotten carried away here. I know this is long, partly because I've had two terrible weeks to cope with and because I can feel the desperation in your post. I want so much for you to understand that you're not going nuts and you're not alone. The sharing is helpful to me too, because, it's a time to remind myself that I CAN get through yet another tragedy, (which is completely unrelated to cancer) and still connect with those remaining "sane" cells that are rattling round inside me and work thorough still more pain. I just got over a flu which zapped me big time (am feeling much better now) in addition to my 6 month round of mammo's, (for the first time they needed one extra film, just to be "overly cautious", safe and sure. Of course this little hiccup with the mammo had to come at a time when I was already a wreck, as I'd watched my son's best friend die tragically two days before. He was so young and such a beautiful young man. At such a time, it's easy, very easy, to feel that life is unfair. We speak to one another in muted voices, quoting that old adage that "only the good die young" or "God wanted him and so he took him", etc. So I let myself get angry for a bit and thought, yeah, well, what good is it to be so young and die before you can share all your goodness with others in the world? To really live and love and even find out who you are. If ever there was a cheat, then this is it. I also questioned just what's the lesson in this, except pain and misery. I got over that thinking but just about that time, I got the flu. No small wonder...I'd not been sleeping well and wasn't eating much either. Every time my head would hit the pillow, I could again see this young man lying there and would again experience all the feelings I'd had at the time. Absolute shock, fear and helplessness...a terror. It came in waves and lasted almost a full week before I could get much sleep at all. I'd had to cancel my check up with my onc. last week due to the flu and finally saw her today. Everything looks good, counts are fine, etc.. So that's a positive amidst the negatives right now and I'm grateful for it.

I initially had put my own emotions on hold because my primary focus was to be there for my son. At 14, he's never lost anyone close to him before and of course, has no experience to count on when the pain gets overwhelming. The school was great and the counselor's were there for the kids and brought in a special crisis team to make sure someone was there for them all. My son had a particularly hard time for the first 3 or 4 days and I was amazed at how these young people, most of them never having dealt with loss before, pulled together and supported one another, 24/7. The kids erected a beautiful memorial and found positive ways to grieve and they're all on more solid footing with the loss, now. Once I knew my son was ok, my guard fell away and only then could I begin to deal with my emotions. I'm still hanging in but not sleeping so great every single night. The instant replays coming into my head are less frequent now but I find myself, (particularly at bedtime)restless, too warm, too cool, overly tired and unable to find a single comfortable spot in our bed. My dr. told me that it was a terrible shock to my system and then having the flu, interfered with my ordinary sleep schedule and that it should even out in another week or ten days and offered sleep meds if I wanted them. If not, then I'm to let her know straight away. I declined the sleep meds. Most such drugs make me sick and/or hyper, so it's best I stay away from them unless I've gotten down to a no other choice situation.

Now the fun part! And you thought I was done! Ha. I'd taken a spill on our pool deck back in August. Result: a broken toe,
torn MCL, two sprained tendons in the ole left foot and a bruise or two. Everything healed well with some physical therapy and NSAID's...except the sprain in my instep. It's refusing to cooperate. I saw the orthopedic doc yesterday and since the meds haven't helped, he suggested a walking cast for 4 to 6 weeks, in an effort to avoid surgery. No other options. Like everyone else, I have this aversion to surgery, so I'm hobbling about with a cast up to my knee. I was getting about better before the cast, but I had compensated by walking around in my sneakers, and turning my foot to the outside. It caused little or no pain and it became my ordinary walking habit over the past month. I don't have any physical pain to speak of right now, but am on the verge of feeling sorry for myself just the same. I'm not happy with this cast business. Particularly at this time of year. Well, I'll do the program and hope for the best. The doc ramped up my NSAID to double. Maybe that will do the trick, in conjunction with the cast. If not, then I have no problem walking around the rest of my life on the outer side of my foot! In the greater scheme of things, my foot really doesn't seem like much of a deal. The kind of thing I'd normally not even mention. I know that it's because it came as a punctuation to all the other hurdles I've experienced so closely together. Right now, it makes things seem a bit overwhelming.

Guess I'm done bending everyone's ear! I just really needed to share and I really hope, Harley's, that I've maybe given you some things to think about as options, as you begin your journey of discovery! The primary thing to remember, is that you're NOT nuts. If you are,then we've all been (or perhaps are)nuts too and we're in the best of company! And guess what...it's perfectly normal too. Don't spend anymore time worrying that you're going nuts. Accept your feelings and try to understand them and
do whatever you can, starting now, to begin feeling better!

Please let us know how it's going. My thoughts are with you, right behind this big warm hug.

Love, light and laughter,
Ink

You have alot of great advice and one can certainly say that you have alot of energy to be able to write such extensive messages.
Paulette