Catia Bitching Cancer

So, I am an aging ex-cankerous self, it turns out: my test results show a wreck of a woman, but hey, I feel good! I have osteoporosis of the spine (apparently dr. Faith thinks it’s unrelated to the chemo/radiation); diverticulosis of the colon; hemangiomas in the liver (benign tumors); a septate or arcuate uterus; and have been thrown in sudden, but very possibly unreversible menopause. Worse of all, I have gained at least 14 pounds since the start of radiation! Most of this stuff is apparently associated with aging… Dr. Faith was surprised a woman my age would have all this, a ‘young’ woman she said, ‘you are too young for this!’ I guess life aged me beyond belief. And me, I had dared to think I was invincible and eternal. But I have no fucking cancer left that they can tell (also known as No Evidence of Disease – aka NED – a dear word to us cancer victors/survivors/patients – best we can get!). Dr. Faith wants to keep the liver under scrutiny, just in case, but so far so good. But because of the menopause/chemopause and the osteoporosis, she also advised me against the clinical trial I had agreed to be on: not good for bone density, I would have to wait until and *if* I got my periods back to start medication, and I couldn’t be on medication for osteoporosis if I wanted to. So we went with the standard treatment, which is tamoxifen, a medication that blocks natural estrogen from getting to estrogen-feeding cancer receptors (for types of cancer, like mine, which feed on estrogen). I will also have to limit (not completely, but be careful about) soy (we have too much in our diets anyway) and grapefruit intake , because they contain (or stimulate production of?) estrogen. And I will have to start taking extra calcium supplements to see if my osteoporosis gets better. OK, sushi will be a treat, not a habit from now on… wait a second… wasn’t it before?

So now, according to my bc support list, I am transitioning from the WIMP award level for cancer victors (“Why I’m miserable and puking”), to the MITT level (“Made it through treatment!”), which will come soon enough, on Sept 25th, exactly one year after diagnosis. I made it!!! And my sisters and their children are here. And we’ve already laughed together, cried together, screamed together at our children, be horrified together at my scars and mutilations, but mostly enjoyed each other’s company, no string attached, just a lot of love. Can’t get better than this, I tell you. Yes, I am an aging wreck, but boy life is good!

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