We went to see the surgeon yesterday (I have learned to loathe that waiting room with it's poster of "diseases of the digestive system on the wall) and he gave us the welcome news that my lymph nodes were clear. He also said that they had a clear (albeit small) margin around the lumpectomy. He recommended going forward with the next step which is radiation. To say I am relieved to hear that my lymph nodes are clear is an understatement. I am also beyond thankful that I do not need to have chemotherapy. It is troubling that some invasive cancer was found and I cannot know absolutely if the surgeon got all of it, or how much of it there might be left. But I hope the radiation will zap whatever remains. Then I will keep a close check on things and try to get on with my life, as many, many women do. The option for a full mastectomy is there, but I have some time to see how I live with this. I feel a sense of guarded optimism. I am thankful, but at the same time aware that there is no way to know if it is all gone. I also feel a profound sense of compassion for the "other woman". The one who receives a different, far worse, diagnosis. The distance between myself and that "other woman" seems so slight. Why her? Why me? Why not me? It is all so terribly random.
I happened upon an interview with the writer, Carol Shields, who died in 2003 from complications of breast cancer. In this interview she describes, with incredible insight, the experience of living with cancer, how it changed her way of thinking, and the emotional journey that she experienced; the "terrible introspection" as she put it. It is worth a listen to.
I feel altered by what I have been through over these past months. I have "shape shifted" and am not the "old" me anymore. I look at things differently now. I think differently. My priorities have changed, and continue to change. I am a transformed, and hopefully better, version of myself.
3 comments:
While we are often faced with a choice of different pathways in our life, this is one that was chosen 'for' you rather than 'by' you - and yet, amid the fears, the questions, the uncertainties and the series of surgeries and tests - you remain grounded, honest, brave and unreservedly compassionate. Aware not only of what each step of this journey means for yourself and your life, but also acutely aware of the direction that this same pathway - with its own scattered potholes and forks in the road -can lead for so many others. The 'other' woman in that unforgiving waiting room, and the people in her life.
"Shape shifting' seems such an apt way to describe it - and because I am blessed to have you as my sister and my best friend, I too feel changed.....awoken (for want of a better term), by your journey and inspired by your profound insight - and cautious optimism even - of just what this albeit 'un-chosen' pathway means from here.
With love,
Trini
I love the way you write and with what you've written so perfectly here, it makes me think of a lovely quote from Albert Camus:
”In the midst of Winter, I found there was within me an invincible Summer.”
Thanks Treen, your comments mean a lot. You are an amazing sister and a wonderful friend. Thanks for your support (and for those days off with the kids). When you gonna start your blog??? Love you...Vic xxx
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