Living with Cancer - And Even Writing About It

I admit, I do at times get sick of trying to keep this blog going. Must I really continue to write about it (my breast cancer)? Well, no. Nobody is holding a gun to my head. I could stop. Could just close it down and get on with leading a more private life. Not this glaring, blaring self-exposure. Why do I do it? Why be this open book for all to see?

I do some version of this post on a fairly regular basis. But here I am again, still posting, even if not every day.  I guess I sorta feel like: Shit, I started this thing, I committed to it, and now I need to stick to my commitment. Because...because... it helps me cope, and I hope it helps a few others to cope. Or to better understand what this disease is like.

So okay, I did another six-week round of Xeloda, had another blood test three days ago, and things are going well. I am responding to the Xeloda, and my tumor marker numbers are continuing to go down. This is very nice for me, given that I spent well over a year watching the numbers rise rise rise rise and rise. That year included a mastectomy, followed by an outbreak of shingles, followed by a ton of intravenous Vitamin C infusions and osteopathic treatments and far infrared bio-mat sessions and tons of supplements, and I can't even remember what else. A lot of stuff, both conventional and alternative treatments.

Oh, and let us not forget my foray into the land of tamoxifen. Yesterday when I went to my appointment with the oncologist to hear his analysis of the latest blood test, I must say that he gave the best description of tamoxifen that I've ever heard. He said that for many women - not all but many - it is the "anti-Christ."

Oh man, I loved that. Because it was so true for me. The prescription number for tamoxifen, emblazoned on the forehead of the prescription bottle, should be: 666. A medicine born of a jackal, a beast in the form of an innocent-looking pill. A false prophet!

Glad my battle with tamoxifen is behind me now. What a hell that was.

But as I said, things are looking up. I'm still running my business, still eating, still walking, still watching TV, still teaching. All of this is a lot more tiring than it used to be, because I am exhausted from the last year's efforts, and on top of that, Xeloda makes you anemic and causes various other unpleasant side effects.

But they are side effects that one can live with. I move slower, yes, I ache a lot all the time. I can't dance, it's too hard on my stiff sore body. But I can drive now. I can leave the house. I can host my writing group again.

And I can bend down, pick up the dog dish, fill it, and bend down again to place it back on the floor. I could not do that six months ago. This is progress.

 

Comments

[Vincenzo Giannone]

It is very nice to see you have the will to fight, that is something that Dr. Bieler considered fundamental in the process of healing. As I already wrote in the post about Bieler's Broth, I'm in contact with the only person certified by Dr. Bieler as an expert in nutritional medicine. Her name is Reigh Parker Burch (Marian Menke). She spent many years with Dr. Bieler and had some laboratory study with him and followed many patients with him, included patients with breast cancer. She is old and taking care of herself, but from time to time she accepts clients. If you are interested in a consultation on a nutritional level or if you want to know what Bieler would have said about your case, please write me: enzolibra@hotmail.it

Hope you'll get better and better day by day.

Vincenzo

[Testing Centers]

Thank you for keep writing. Both my mother and my
have had breast cancer, and I don't want to sound grim but am pretty sure I will, in the future, as well :)
Reading your blog really helps me deal with my emotions and feelings. And again, thank you, you're a brave women.

[symptom diagnosis]

I am very much impressed from your post after reading this. I liked the experience you have shared in this post. Thanks for sharing this.

[Gabrielle]

Keep up the good fight, Jane, some of us need you here. Er, not to put the pressure on or anything.

[Harlan Lewps]

More people read this than you'll ever know. Progress, whatever it takes, even baring your soul to help other people cope too.

[Heather]

I so hear you, Jane! I love your little diatribe about Tamoxifen. I still have 3.5 years to go on the Anti-Christ! HA!

And I, for one, am so glad you continue to write about your experience. I, too, blog about my experience. Initially it was to keep family and friends (who were afraid to phone and wake or exhaust me) up to date as to how I was progressing through treatment. And then, when I discovered chemo-brain, my blog served as a great reference resource for me. And, to my surprise, it has been cathartic as well even though I, too, get tired of blogging about "my breast cancer" now that my treatments are mostly over. But, like you, I now blog for myself and to help others understand the experience (such as the surprise fact that the experience isn't over after treatments end - in fact, it's NEVER really over until ... well, you know). And I blog so that hopefully someone out there will benefit from something that I post.

So, thanks for helping me through this experience and for the many insights and information you have provided. I'll bet I'm just one of many.

I so hear you about your joints ... bending ... walking ... dressing ... trying to get to the phone when it rings before the caller gives up. I wish you continued improvements on all fronts. And backs. And bottoms.

[linda]

FANTASTIC!!!!!