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.
3 comments:
Why WAS mom wearing a raincoat? I know there was rain that day, but wasn't it hot and humid, i.e., typical early August in Philly? I guess it's as reasonable as wearing her sunglasses in the house at night...
Michelle, I wanted to shout AND cry tears of joy when reading this! You write so beautifully and have really braved cancer in a way I don't think has ever been done before, at least not written as so. You are an inspiration to all.
Love you!! XXOO
I loved reading this blog entry! You are an inspiration.
Post a Comment