Post chemo update

 I’m over two months out from my last full chemo therapy. My hair is growing back and my strength is returning more each day. Some days I get the kids on the bus and go back to bed; some days I’m full of energy and feel like I want to jump back into life again. It’s unpredictable what type of day I’ll have, so I’m trying to keep my to-do list and expectations low. I’m excited for summer, but also a little nervous about having enough energy to manage the kids all day, everyday.

I continue to have infusions every three weeks. I get an infusion of targeted immunotherapy (herceptin and perjeta) to try to keep the cancer in remission, and a third drug (zometa) to strengthen my bones. So far it’s working. I had another clean PET scan in May that showed no disease progression.  I also take a pill daily (tamoxifen) to prevent my estrogen from feeding the cancer. I’m so thankful to be done with chemo and have limited side effects at this point. I’d say the worst side effects now are fatigue and brain fog. Plus an occasional hot flash from the tamoxifen.

Honestly, this update has been so difficult to write because my own thoughts and feelings have been all over the place. I don’t know how to live with cancer. I’m thankful to be where I’m at right now. To be done with chemo and getting stronger every day. To have a couple good scans under my belt and know that the cancer is in check for the time being. But I am not cured and I am not cancer free. It still feels like cancer is lurking around the corner just waiting for me to get comfortable and forget about it, so it can pounce and catch me off guard. No one knows when the drugs I’m on will stop working. Even with the best most aggressive treatment I will never be out of the woods or get the all clear. My future feels really uncertain. No doctor can tell me how long I’ll be able to stay in remission or how long I’ll get to be with my family. The emotional toll has been really hard. I want to be celebrating the end of chemo and the return of my health, but I’m also deeply grieving. I’m grieving the loss of the life I once had. I used to dream about the future, about seeing the kids grow up and have families of their own, and about growing old with Steve and what we would do in our retirement. Now, all those thoughts are all  tainted with the catch of I hope I'm there to see it. When Eva tells me she wants to have eight kids and a minivan all I can think is that I want so badly to be part of that future. I’m constantly running the cancer math and wondering how much is too much to ask for. 5 years, at least the kids would be old enough then to remember me  10 years, I’d be leaving Steve with two teenagers. How traumatizing will that be for them to lose their mom at time when they are already experiencing so many changes. The most I can get myself to hope for is 20 years. That would hopefully get them through college and launched into adulthood. 

I know I should stay positive. I want to stay positive. But I don’t want to ignore the realities of what metastatic cancer means. I feel like I’m battling the teeter-totter of hope and grief everyday. It feels too dangerous to stay on either side too long. Ultimately, I am trying to cling to what I know is true. God is good. He is in control of the things that are just too big for me to handle. And He loves me completely.

What’s next treatment wise? My plan is to go down to Mayo in the fall to meet with the surgeon and radiologist in person. They will help determine whether or not surgery and radiation could be helpful. In the meantime, I’ll keep going with my infusions every three weeks and my daily tamoxifen. My objective right now is to live it up and have a summer of fun with my family.

Praise! Praise God for another good PET scan and that the cancer is still in remission.

Praise God that the side effects to my maintenance drugs are manageable and not worse than they are.   

Praise God that both kids are finishing this challenging school year strong. Today is the last day of school!!

Praise God for the awesome community of friends, family and neighbors who are carrying us through this terrible diagnosis.

Prayer request:

Pray for complete and total healing. It’s hard for me to ask that much of God, so I need you to ask for me. 

Pray for wisdom as we make treatment decisions in the fall. I don’t want to chase after the wind seeking treatments that won’t prolong my life, but I also don’t want to leave anything on the table if I could squeeze out more time with my family. 

Pray for my heart and mind as I now deal with the emotional and mental load of chronic cancer. I’min the process of looking for a support group for people living with cancer. Pray that I find a group that I can connect well with.