I’ve been thinking about this for the past month or more- trying to figure out how to share this without over or under dramatizing it. And I drafted this weeks ago and sat on it.
Because I’m in a good, good place- mostly. I am more than a year into remission, and I’m back to work, and I’m spending time with friends and family. And most importantly- the experience has made so clear to me what matters most.
And at the same time, I’m not back to normal. Not physically, not mentally, not emotionally. I have 5-10 years of medication ahead of me- stuff that means I’m in pain and exhausted most days. The joint pain is so crazy. NUTS! And by 7pm, I just need to be horizontal, I’m so tired.
It’s hard to explain- but I look back and think that maybe chemo was easier than this. You expect chemo to suck and it does suck, and everyone around you knows it sucks.
But then chemo is over and surgery is done. And life resumes. And now there is collateral damage from cancer treatments and the hormone therapies- on my joints and heart and bone health. So annoying.
For months I’ve been thinking of it as a motivation problem. I’ve told myself, “I just need to motivate.” Oliver reminds me of the maxim I always say to him… “Action proceeds motivation” - but I use up all my energy to 1) do my work and 2) do a workout and 3) any remaining thing that absolutely must be done before tomorrow. Everything else gets moved to being a Future Lara problem. There’s just no energy left.
I think part of the problem- of feeling not like myself- is that I expected to be feeling “better” by now. But I’m coming to understand that cancer survivorship is a little like grief- it’s not a straight line. And I’m mourning the loss of Me. On one hand I am proud of what I’ve endured and who I’ve become.
But at the same time I miss the woman who didn’t have to think of any of this. I was joking with friends that the silver lining of breast cancer survivorship and medical menopause is that I know ALLLLLL the things we need to be doing in our 60’s to stay healthy. But I’m learning it out of necessity- now, in my [very!?] early 50’s.
I’m not saying anything new here. Everyone told me Survivorship would be hard. It’s July, which marks one year of taking aromatase inhibitors (endocrine therapy that blocks estrogen absorption in the body). That means I have somewhere between 4-9 years left, per protocol. It’s both a milestone and a super depressing thought.
It’s a continuous decision in my mind- and open loop of evaluating which impact is worse. Which tradeoff do i prioritize avoiding- Cancer metastasis? Heart Disease? Hip fracture? And the need to stay one step ahead of my doctors- since they’ll each be looking only through the lens of their specialty. I need to think holistically and be asking questions that keep me doing the next best thing for my health.
So that’s the story. The in-between days & phase of survivorship. The good, the bad, and… the best you can do.
A nice summer (?!?!) day at Crissy Beach with these two lovelies.