1st Anniversary

Today is exactly one year since my diagnosis. I have been thinking about this day for a while and I still can't work out how I feel. I am not sure if I feel happy, sad, nostalgic or just exhausted from the past 12 months. I am not sure whether I should celebrate or hold a memorial. It is just strange. When I think about what has happened in the past year, I am happy that the worst is behind me, but also sad because it is still not over. I am not ready to celebrate as my treatment has a few months to go and I am still dealing with side effects of treatment (ie. lymphoma and fatankles). I have been told that it can take up to twelve months for the chemo drugs to work out of your system. I find this strangely comforting, as I think if the cancer had the balls to come back, at least there is still something in my system to knock it out.

I am still seeing the physio for the lymphoma and am doing my daily exercises and stretches. I have been able to avoid having to wear a compression sleeve, which I am relieved about as it is starting to get steamy here; and a compression sleeve isn't the summer accessory I was hoping to purchase. I do have an array of stretchy tape going up my arm, across my back and around my boob. This is supposed to help create new pathways for the lymphatic fluid to drain, I am not sure how it works, but it appears to have helped. I also have to wear this bumpy pad thing (yes, that is the highly technical name for it), which is supposed to massage your boob. Think of it as a masseur sandal for your breast. One thing that I thought I would never have to do was pad my bra - but that is just added to the long list of 'things that I have had to do this year that I never thought I would'.

As I have said before, I don't feel like the old me and not sure how I feel about the new me. I know that I still hate my hair and don't really recognise myself when I look in the mirror. So many people have said to me how I suit short hair. The comments have ranged from 'it really brings out your eyes' to 'you are lucky you have such flat ears' to 'you have great high cheek bones to be able to carry it off'. Whilst that may be the case - it still doesn't make up for the fact that I had long hair until I got cancer, had chemo and became bald! Having high cheek bones and flat ears isn't much of a consolation. I know that people are being kind and trying to make me feel better about my post chemo fuzz, but nothing is going to make me feel better about it.

Over the past few weeks, I have been reflecting on the year that was. Whilst it was a tough year, I discovered I was tougher. I remember at the beginning, some friends didn't know what to say. One friend called me and could only swear to me on the phone. One friend told me to look to Belinda Emmett for inspiration (that didn't really give me much comfort since she passed away from breast cancer!), but I knew my friend was trying to be supportive. I have been speaking to family and friends about how they heard the news. The day I found out was such a haze, I can't remember who I called and who I texted and who found out through the grapevine. I was talking about that day with my mum and she still gets very emotional about it.

The year has both gone quickly and slow. Going through chemo I felt every minute of every hour of every day. Since I finished radiation, the year has gone very quickly. Getting back into the routine of work and immerse myself in a new challenge has made the past two months fly by. I can't believe that next week is December and more importantly the week after that is my birthday! Birthday plans are in full swing and it should be a fun night. I am having my check-up and scans before my birthday, just like last year, although unlike last year - this year the results will be something to celebrate!

2010 has hopefully been the worst year of my life, but luckily I have had the best of friends and family to help me get through. I am looking forward to seeing the back end of 2010 in a few weeks...bring on 2011!!!!!

Almost a year has passed

Almost a year has passed since my world imploded, it was November 25th 2009 when I found out I had breast cancer. Coming up to the one year mark, I feel a bit weird. As I reflect on the past 12 months, I realise just how much has happened and what I have gone through. I have spoken to some friends who have also just passed the 12 month mark and they have the same mixed emotions. On the one hand, I am happy that it is almost over, but on the other hand I feel exhausted from having to fight against it. It is unusual for me not to be able to convey how I am feeling, but the best way I can describe it is - weird. Things just feel weird. It is like I don't fit into my old life, but am not quite ready for my new life. I am not worried about going for my 12 month scans and mammogram; it may be naive of me, but I am not worried about the cancer coming back. There is nothing I can do to stop it returning, but I kicked its ass once, I will do it again if I have to (which I am really hoping I don't!).

Last weekend I went to the Relay For Life, which is organised by the Queensland Cancer Council at the RNA. It was amazing to see the amount of people who where there to support people who have been lost to cancer and are still fighting against it. They had a candle light ceremony which ended in a video montage of images of the people that have been lost to cancer. I am not sure if it was the photos or the Sarah McLauchlan song that went with it, but it hit me like a smack in the head - why me? I don't mean 'why me' as in why did I get cancer, but why did I survive it and they didn't. There was one lady who was diagnosed and passed away four weeks later. How can you be happy in your life and then be gone in a month? How can you fight against something in a month? It makes no sense to me. It has really compounded the feeling that I want to give something back to the people that have helped me through the past year and also to the people who are going through this battle. I know a lot of people refer to it as a journey, but I am not a fan of that term. Journey brings up images of driving along a country road with the wind in your hair and a cool soundtrack blasting through the car stereo. Cancer has no cool soundtrack and the only wind that you have is caused by chemo and has the toxic power to knock out a small child.

My treatment continues and I continue to battle with fatankles. Although my fatankles now have a friend - fataboob. I have lymphodema in my left boob. I had the humiliating experience of having to have my breasts weighed. It was all very technical and done using a Tupperware kitchen scale. I was surprised to know that the affected boob weighs one and a half times the unaffected boob. So you can imagine the difficulties of buying a bra that makes both boobs comfortable and happy. I am seeing a physio who specialises in lymphodema and cancer rehabilitation therapy. She is amazing and has taught me a lot of things that I can do to ensure that the condition doesn't get worse. I am required to sleep in a compression bra, which not nearly as sexy as it sounds. I am also required to do special massage to get the fluid moving; which resembles feeling yourself up, but I am told it has a medicinal purpose!

Overall, life is pretty good. Work is going great and I am loving it. I am also busy planning my birthday celebrations. Hopefully, this year they won't be highjacked by cancer! It is almost Barney's first birthday too. He continues to grow and is now the size of a small horse, pretty soon I will be able to put a saddle on him and charge kids for a pony ride. My focus for the next few weeks, coming up to the anniversary, is to remember how far I have come and not to dwell on the bad stuff. Treatment was horrific, but I got through it. It is the getting through that I will focus on.