Forty and Fair

Well, today is the dreaded day. Forty and fabulous? Not quite. Functional maybe. I just read a book title that made me laugh: Forty and Fabulous - Moving Toward Fierce, Focused and Full of Life. I'm calling my memoir Forty and Fair - Moving Away From Failing, Feeble, Fatigued and Funny-looking! Coming soon to a Kindle near you.

Shrimp & Veggie Kebobs

I actually had a splendid extended birthday weekend. Drinks with some lovely ladies on Friday night, and then lots of time with my boys - an outing to Burke Lake Park, pool time, a BBQ, strawberry shortcake, a decorated house, party hats, and afternoon tea with John. I've never been overly stressed about birthdays because, until now, I guess I never felt old physically. I feel like I'm about 80% right now, and my oncologist says it often takes about a year to get back to feeling 100%. I guess I can live with 80 for awhile, but patience has never been my strongest virtue. According to American psychologist Walter Pitkin, life begins at forty, so I guess that makes me a newborn. Okay, phoenix maybe.

Amphora's Strawberry Shortcake

Burke Lake Park

Afternoon Tea

Today, my actual b-day, John took me out for lunch at The Oceanaire which is participating in restaurant week. Yum. When I got back to work I found my office all tricked out and a chocolate cake waiting. All orchestrated by John who is getting an A+ in party planning this week.

Survivorship

So, survivorship class. The oncology nurse started by saying that many people tend to feel/anxious depressed at this stage. (Really?!) During chemo you're actively engaged in fighting this thing, you're doing something, you feel forward motion and then it stops. The end of chemo was totally anti-climactic for me. People think you're done, but you're not. In some ways you've only just begun. I'm going to have this shadow trailing me for the rest of my life; I need to figure out how to deal. I realized later in the conversation that she was trying to gauge my level of depression/sadness to decide whether to recommend an anti-depressant. According to her, many people go this route post-chemo to get themselves back to feeling normal again and certain pills can also be duel-purpose helping to control the hot flashes of the Tamoxifen. Do I feel sadness most of the time? No. As I told her, I'm too busy to be sad all the time. Between work and family and life, I don't have time to dwell on it. I certainly have my moments when I panic about how I'm spending my time. Should I stop working and spend as much time as I can now with my kids, just in case? That's a huge one. It sounds overly dramatic, but it weighs on me. Apparently I didn't do a very good job convincing her because she told me not to rule the anti-depressant option out and plans on calling me next week to see what I've decided. She also suggested a support group.

Here's what I've decided. Apart from continuing to exercise, maintaining a healthy weight, eating more fruits and vegetables, and limiting my alcohol intake to 2x/month and special occasions (boo!), there's not much else I can do, so there isn't much point in worrying about it. Easier said than done, but that's my new mantra. I don't want cancer to waste any more of my precious time than it already has. Am I cured, did they get it, is it gone for good? Who knows? No one, that's who, but I'll continue to be monitored and scanned (basically forever) so I'm not forgetting about it. I'm moving from attack mode to uber vigilance. I'm still going to break out in a sweat when I go for my mammograms (and not just from the hot flashes), worry about my work/life balance, and be extra thankful every time I'm around to see another of my kids' "firsts", but I think that's normal. Survivor normal anyway.

Peach Fuzz

News Flash: I need to shave my legs! This is the one and only time I will be excited by this, but true to my oncologist's word my hair seems to be coming back 2 months post-chemo. And check out my fuzzy duckling head! I'm not out in public like this yet, but hopefully soon? I have no idea what I'm going to do with it as it grows out. It's definitely looking darker.

I've started jogging again which is huge to my mental health. I'm only doing three miles at a very relaxed pace, but it feels great to be out there again. I'm eager to get my upcoming reconstruction over with but at the same time annoyed that I'm going to slide backwards again during recovery. I was listening to a woman complaining about working out in the gym today and wanted to give her a smack. I'd love to be training for something awesome right now. Maybe by next spring I'll be in ten-miler shape. Destination half-marathon anyone?

According to my calculations I have 11 more Herceptin infusions. I like keeping track of this stuff because it makes me feel like I'm advancing to another stage. It's like a cancer video game. In other news, I also started my five year stint on Tamoxifen. I didn't realize this was coming yet. I thought I was to start next spring after the Herceptin was over, but it's actually post-chemo. I don't think I'll be counting this one down so methodically - 2017 is really far away! The biggest side effects are hot flashes. The funny thing is it's hard to tell whether the hot flashes are a product of the Tamoxifen or if chemo has induced early-menopause. At this point I suppose it really doesn't matter. Sorry boys, you will not be getting a new baby to play with!

Friday I am signed up for "Survivorship" class at my oncologist's office. The nurse will attempt to answer the million dollar question, "What now?" I've kind of been avoiding this topic because I know it will be depressing. I complain about life being so busy, but in some ways it's a blessing. I think I would go crazy if I actually had time to be alone with my thoughts.