Continuing

Okay, I'm here. See? I actually went for a trim a few hours after I took this picture. It's now neater around my ears and in the back.

Medically, it seems that lately I just hop from one thing to another. I've been to four doctors this month, and by the end of September I'll have had two biopsies. I can't seem to get back to normal, and when I ask a professional, I hear, "That's normal." Nobody expects to find cancer with these biopsies, but because it's me, they have to check. And would you believe I managed to get diagnosed with a hypoactive thyroid, just as a fluke. This explains the previously inexplicable weight gain, but now I'm up to five pills a day. It's like I'm in my 60s, or at least like the many people I know in their 60s. Who are vibrant, active people, don't get me wrong, but they take a lot of pills.

My state of mind is like a roller coaster. Czerniecki always manages to freak me out, and he didn't disappoint when I saw him last week. I glanced over his shoulder at the computer, where it said I'm Stage III. I said I thought I was IIb, and he said no, the mass was too big to be classified that way, I'm IIIa. This is the difference between early detection and advanced stage. That's an adjustment for me. I think I'm getting there, though. I'll just let you know right now, it doesn't help if you point out that nothing has actually changed, I've actually been Stage III all along and my prognosis is still good. My mind simply doesn't work that way. Which is why I hid in my car at football practice last week and cried my eyes out, thinking I was alone until a mom whose children I've taught knocked on my window because she was worried about me. Humiliating.

In other news, I subbed yesterday, and I turned down an assignment today because I promised the rabbi I'd help him with some things. Sorry I'm late, Rabbi! I'll get there in about 20 minutes! The kids are off to a pretty good start with school. Allison is particularly busy. Marching band is so intense! Ken is traveling a bit, which means I run around like a crazy woman most of the time.

L'Shana Tova to those of you who know what that means. Have a healthy, sweet year. I'm hoping 5770 will be MUCH better than 5769, but considering the first week, I'm now pinning my hopes on the secular calendar.

Me Again!

August 5, I guess that was my last full day on the other side of the window, looking out at the healthy world. The final treatment was such a relief, followed by a fantastic lunch at my favorite restaurant (Buddakan!). The folks at Hahnemann were so wonderful, I posed for pictures with them. Here we are:

The top one is in the radiation room, with the techs. Boy, I wish I'd ever remembered their names. I think one is Kelly. The bottom picture is Dr. Komarnicky, me, and my mom. Don't ask why she's wearing a raincoat. I haven't taken a picture of my hair in a couple weeks, but it doesn't look much different. I'm guessing it's about 3/4 of an inch "long." It's getting thicker everyday, and hopefully I'll feel comfortable dyeing it soon.

Anyway, no depression issues as I walked back out into the world, as befalls so many. In some ways, it already feels like it all happened a long time ago. Sometimes I think it wasn't so bad, and other times it seems like it must've happened to someone else. I have my souvenirs, of course. Battle scars, whatever. And my paranoia about every little thing, which is one reason I have three doctors appointments in the next two weeks. I have two spots on my body I want looked at, and can you believe it's been almost 4 months since my last chemo? It's time to follow up with Dr. Fox. Then I have to head back to my primary, because apparently my thyroid is elevated. Probably meds.

I'm still fighting mild sleepiness. I was more tired on radiation than I am now, but I don't feel perfect. Jason and I are now running together, getting ready for our big 8K run in November (coincides with the Philly marathon, but we'll be very proud of our five miles!).

Tamoxifen = nothing. I guess I have a drop of achiness? Not sure. No hot flashes! Is that good? Or does that mean it's not working? I don't miss hot flashes, at any rate. Effexor instead of Zoloft has turned out to be a change for the better. Although I do have a bit of anxiety creeping into my days, and for the past few days I've been positively jumping out of my skin: I had a really good interview for a sixth grade teaching job on Monday, and now I'm waiting ... waiting ... waiting. This is kind of right where I started, right? Waiting stinks. This time I could get very good news. With cancer, there's really no such thing.

Anyway, here's the thing, the big thing: I'm pretty much completely me again. Not like me, but as a cancer patient. It doesn't feel like that. It's just me, going through yet another season hunting for the elusive tenure track teaching job, focusing on money problems, relationship issues, my kids, trying to get/keep fit. My life, only it turns out to be so much better than I would've thought last year. I guess it's not about stopping to smell the roses, but maybe stopping to notice that the laundry you do all day smells good when it's finished.