It's been a while since I've posted here, obviously. Nov. 11th, to be exact. Wow. Two months! But now you know that I am still here, not dead, not even sick or miserable or suffering from some new awful medication. I'm in another "good" phase of having breast cancer. And I'm not being sarcastic. I really do see it, now, as a long-term (hopefully) experience that is full of ups and downs, good phases and not so good phases.
The whole first half of 2011 was a very bad phase for me. Most of the second half of 2011 was a successful, although very slow-going, attempt to get out of the bad phase rather than die.
So now I am out of the bad phase. Not out of the woods, but out of the bad phase. Which I am very happy about. It's getting easier and easier to take life "one day at a time." I am overjoyed to be able to post this post. Overjoyed to be able to sit (not lay) on my couch . . . and to do so without horrible discomfort or pain. In short, I am overjoyed that I am back to living a relatively normal life - driving a car, working to earn a living, seeing my friends, enjoying my relationship with Jack (and my beloved pets), doing photography, writing, all of it. Just being able to get dressed and leave my house again is a huge wonderful thing.
What prompted me to post something today was the following article that one of my fellow "breast cancer discussion list" members forwarded to the list. It's easy to read and was, for me, compelling. It makes so much sense! I hope every one of you will read it and benefit from it. Here's how it starts:
Years ago, Charlie, a highly respected orthopedist and a mentor of mine, found a lump in his stomach. He had a surgeon explore the area, and the diagnosis was pancreatic cancer. This surgeon was one of the best in the country. He had even invented a new procedure for this exact cancer that could triple a patient’s five-year-survival odds—from 5 percent to 15 percent—albeit with a poor quality of life. Charlie was uninterested. He went home the next day, closed his practice, and never set foot in a hospital again. He focused on spending time with family and feeling as good as possible. Several months later, he died at home. He got no chemotherapy, radiation, or surgical treatment. Medicare didn’t spend much on him.Just go HERE to read the rest of the piece, which was written by Dr. Ken Murray: zocalopublicsquare.org