Oh, you know, I haven’t been in the operating room yet for 2015 and January is almost over. So I’m going to get a move on and have a small outpatient procedure done this afternoon. It will basically be Step 1 in a 2-step process to prevent any future stupid abscesses. So I can return to my life of glamour.
Things were going well earlier this month. I got my shot to stop my ovaries from making estrogen. I get another shot the first week of February. And another shot the first week of March. I was supposed to get my rather large benign adrenal adenoma examined in February, but I got a call the other day and now that is all being pushed back until March. And in February or March I’ll start a medication that makes sure there is absolutely ZERO estrogen in my body (called an aromatase inhibitor). And in April, I’ll get another shot. And in May, I’ll get another shot. And and and … for five years.
I have started to really get my energy back this past 10 days or so. I felt like my family was starting to notice me being back to normal, too. Unfortunately, I started to feel pressured to be back to my old self, and either the pressure alone or in combination with my new rapid menopause irritability has made me really feel like I can’t handle everything very well. There is this Surgery #1 of 2 for the abscess/fistula situation, and trying to arrange all the medical appointments and somehow not have to dip into my vacation time (I NEED a vacation this year), and truly the chemo is still at work in my body because let’s face it, my hair is not growing. And there are some changes afoot at my sanctuary — where my horse is stabled — and although I am SO HAPPY for those who are going to benefit from the changes, well, I just can’t handle change right now. It makes me feel out of control after living the past 6 months so out of control. Like having to go under the knife again today (which, by the way, is partly exploratory according to my surgeon and there are several different scenarios of what they could find which means I really don’t know which of many potential procedures I will be getting).
ANYWAY, my dear Lucky Alex will be moving to a new home just a mile down the road. And I hope to somehow find a way to be a part of both the old and the new. Meanwhile, I see now why the transition out of “active treatment” is touted as such a big — and dififcult — deal. I feel a lot of pressure from some people in my circle, and I just am not ready for any pressure whatsoever.
Readers, if you have dealt with transitioning out of the chemo phase, I would really be interested in hearing your stories about how you handled it and how your support system handled it — did they want you to transition right back to “normal” life? Did the hormone-treatment phase and early menopause adjustment get you some grace?
UPDATE: A friend who also is going through BC shared my blog and these are some of the responses …