Big day

It’s been a while since I wrote. I’ve been busy. Family threw me a “Brave Betty Beat Cancer” party a few weeks ago, and it was a lot of fun. The whole situation still feels surreal most days, almost like I watched somebody else go through everything over the last 11 months. Almost like it wasn’t really me. There have been some unexpected hiccups that are being addressed, one being this week I have to start pelvic floor physical therapy. Maybe in a few weeks I’ll be ready to talk about all of that on the blog, but today is not that day. Today I would just like to write about today.

Today was a big day. Not only was it my last day of physical therapy for my arm, but today was also my first follow-up appointment with my oncologist since surgery. When I woke up this morning I didn’t expect to feel the way I feel right now, but here I am with all the feels. 

While I was going through the motions of my last physical therapy appointment and discussing with the therapist how I had finally taken that free gym membership and signed up for the LiveStrong program at the YMCA, I found myself choked up. Every time I reach the end of some step in my treatment I feel sad, nervous, and hesitant. In my head I have this expectation that I should be happy, but I’m just not. I’m anxious. My last day of PT did go well, though. Kari took a selfie with me and we hugged goodbye. She told me anytime I have questions I can just avoid my co-pay, give her a call, and she’ll provide free advice over the phone. I will miss her. Our kids are the same age, we have a lot of the same interests, and it’s nice to have someone tell me regularly that I’m making progress on my arm.

Immediately after physical therapy I headed to the hospital for labs and to meet with my oncologist for the first time in four months. I didn’t have any expectations on what I would feel when I went to my appointment today, in fact it hadn’t even crossed my mind. So, I surprised myself when the receptionist printed out my oncology bracelet and my eyes welled up. It’s been a long time since I had to wear one of those bracelets. I didn’t like it. When I was going through chemo and was there every single week, sometimes more than once a week, it was no big deal. I threw those bracelets on like they were part of my outfit and never thought twice. Today, however, I didn’t want to wear it. I hated the fact that I had to wear it. I almost cried when she put it on me. 

Is this how it’s always going to be? Am I always going to feel this anxiety every time I go for a check up? 

During the visit my doctor asked me how I was feeling. I admitted I am experiencing a lot of anxiety, but I didn’t give her specifics. I think it’s because still being emotional about all of this is embarrassing. It shouldn’t be, and I know that. People are constantly telling me how happy they are for me, asking about how relieved I must feel, and I am, but I’m also super paranoid all of the time. 

My blood work all came back normal and tomorrow I will get the results back from the tumor marker test. Assuming the tumor markers all come back normal and nothing is high I won’t have to have an MRI or a CAT scan. My oncologist did recommend that if it seems like I have too much anxiety over everything that I should seek out professional help. My husband and I had already discussed this, and it’s on the agenda. I just haven’t taken those steps to actually find a new therapist yet.

After my oncologist appointment I bought myself some chocolate (don’t judge me) and headed to the YMCA to meet with the trainer who will be leading the LiveStrong class I joined. I’m excited and nervous all at once about starting this class. I’m thrilled at the thought of getting some energy back. I’m also thrilled about the idea of shedding the 20 lbs I’ve gained since starting treatment. 

As I write this, sitting on my hammock in the backyard cuddled up with Evelyn and Sookie, I think to myself how stupid it is to ever feel anything but blissful. I know part of my issue is hormones, or lack thereof. Part of it is the knowledge that life is short. Part of it is pure, unadulterated terror. Most of the time I feel great; happy, thankful, and excited to be alive. It’s those few times a month when something triggers the anxiety that I really struggle, but I am working on it.