Treatment Has Finished… Now What???

This month is 2 years since I rang the bell for ending treatment. It feels like many moons ago but only yesterday at the same time.

From the day I found my lump to the end of treatment was 10 months. 10 months of appointments, visits to hospital, meeting different teams of doctors and nurses. Then I rang the bell, walked out of the door and that was it. It was all over. I felt like I was supposed to be happy. But something that no-one tells you about is the way you feel when get home.

I felt like I’d been hit by a bus with all of these emotions. The 10 months had been so full on with only enough time to think about what appointment or treatment was coming next that I  had no time to think about what I was going through.

There were suddenly all these anniversaries of the past year that I didn’t want but had. I tried to use them to think about how far I had come over the past year but I at each one it felt like a stab in the heart from the guilt I felt like I had put my family through. I felt like it was my fault. It was my body that grew cancer, so it was my fault.

Grieving

I grieved for my old body, my old hair and my identity. I was a busty woman. I had always had a decent pair from puberty. It was part of who I felt I was. My surgery cut them in half. I went from a HH to a DD cup. Some of you reading this will probably think DD is still pretty good, but it felt like I’d had my leg amputated. The options I had been given for surgery was a lumpectomy where I would be left with one boob half the size and the other remaining the same, or a reconstruction for both boobs based on cutting out the cancer and making the non-cancerous boob an identical size. I opted for the second option because it was suggested that if I keep my non cancerous boob as it was I was more at risk of developing cancer in it as bigger boobs are more at risk.

I now had time to look at the scars I had been left with and the boobs I now had. Should I be happy that they didn’t contain cancer… Well, yes of course. But I didn’t know who the woman was who was staring back at me in the mirror. She was a strong warrior who had been to hell and back but now felt so weak through the grief of it all.

I felt so sad when I was supposed to be rejoicing that there was no more cancer; no more treatments; life could get back to normal. Hmmm, what was normal now???

For those of you who have children, think back to when you were alone with your baby for the first time. Everyone’s lives carry on as normal around you but you are sat there thinking “what the f*** just happened!” My body has changed, my identity has changed, but you have a loving baby looking back at you that makes it all worth it.

I didn’t have the baby. I had fatigue, guilt, chronic pain, mobility issues that weren’t there before. And so the joy of being cancer free was not so joyful.

My cancer friends have felt the gush of emotions hit them when treatment stopped so I know I’m not alone. It isn’t talked about enough. And for some friends their main treatment has finished but they have to have monthly injections for example, and it is a trigger as soon as they walk into the building.

Scars

The scars are permanent. I have scars from the surgery. I have scars from the port I had fitted during chemotherapy. I have three tattooed dots on my skin from radiotherapy. One of them is in the middle of my boobs and I see it every day when I look down. I had lymph nodes removed from my left armpit which means I can’t have my blood pressure taken or have injections in that arm. When drying my left arm after a shower I have to rub from my wrist to my armpit to help not to develop lymphedema. I have to watch out for stings or any break in skin on my left arm as an infection is more risky in my left arm. All little things that are a reminder that I had cancer.

I don’t want to end this on a downer, so let me pull myself out of the gutter that I get myself in sometimes. I’m alive! I beat it! It was horrific for everyone but if we can get through that we can get through anything! You never know what life is going to throw at you.

I know the statistics are bleak that 1 in 2 of us will experience cancer. Early detection saves lives and treatment is less invasive.

To all of you going through it, having gone through it and for the families of those who didn’t make it, I’m thinking of you. Breast cancer is way more than treatment. It's an emotional rollercoaster .

JuJu x