I find myself searching. I’m searching all the time. Searching Facebook, searching Pinterest, searching the clutter of my mind, searching spiritually and at times searching physically (glasses, phone, etc.). I’m not even sure what I’m searching for sometimes.
Follow-up appointments are a part of this journey. Active treatment ends and then they all want to see you again in 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, take your pick. Some of them can feel pointless like the one recently with the radiation doctor. He is checking on skin that is no longer there because it’s been replaced by belly skin. The appointment was 5 minutes. This past week brought follow-up with the whack the boobs off and take out the cancer doctor. I haven’t seen him in 9 months.
Dr. Boob Whacker passed me off to his Nurse Practitioner which I was fine with. For a cancer follow up appointment being passed off feels like an accomplishment and possibly waste of time. We were pleasantly surprised it was not.
I LOVE my treatment team. These people led me through a very scary time. But one thing I have felt is that none of them could help me with the searching. Dr Chemo Man is my bud but he gets annoyed by my searching because he thinks I’m trying to control and maybe buy some worry. Dr. Radiation Man tries but his job is really orchestrating a magical light show. Dr Boob Whacker will quiet frankly get a terrified look on his face. I recognize the look as one that a true introvert makes when someone asks a question outside of what the introvert has practiced. Extroverts I know that sounds ridiculous to you.
With Nurse Practitioner I felt seen and heard, maybe just a bit too much. She taught me how to do a self exam with these new boobs. I asked questions and she acknowledged the concern, answered best she could and then helped find solutions. I didn’t find anything that she shied away from. We talked about boobs, physical therapy, ongoing risk of tamoxifen in female parts, COVID, and mental health.
I want to rejoin the world of daily living. Since 3/15/20 I’ve been working remotely full time. I took off less than 2 full weeks after surgery. In normal days I would be pressing to go back to the office just as I was after the take them off surgery. But these are not normal days and I’ve been searching for what really is my risk level now which brought me to asking Nurse Practitioner before I discuss it with my Primary Care.
Ask the question and be prepared to not like the answer. She pointed out that while I’m not in active treatment I’m also not far out of it. Those going through a cancer journey right now are doing so on a untraveled trail. Millions of people have unfortunately pounded the trail on how to do cancer pre-COVID. Nobody has during COVID. In a way, I was on the worn trail and am a part of the group that started pounding out the new trail. My brain knows that we are not traveling the same trail anymore and especially now I can’t look to how others traveled and compare myself. My brain knows that my immune system is still recovering. My heart is not as on board. It is tugging to test it and throw caution to the wind. After all isn’t a part of the textbook cancer lesson to seize the day? Aren’t you supposed to do something big and outrageous when you cross the line?
Not in COVID time. In COVID time, I’m just trying to get back to work and time with my nieces before I can dream the big and outrageous. Honestly I’m being advised by multiple doctors that just those everyday goals are risky. “I really would advise you wait until at least through September” said one about time with the girls and even then masks are probably a good idea. This week I heard “I really prefer working remotely” when I asked about risk for returning to office.
“I was thinking maybe a hybrid of in-office and working remotely. At least go in the office a little bit. I think it would be good for my mental health.” I said with my voice cracking under my Wonder Woman mask and a tear deceitfully sliding out the bottom of my eye.
I have a hard time admitting the struggle. Yes I’m very transparent here but even as I type the words get caught in my throat just as they do when I speak them and the tears escape. She heard that crack and wanted to talk about it. I tried dancing her past it. She is a skilled dancer though. She recognizes that mental health is important too. I think she would have liked if I would have agreed to having some extra pharmaceutical help but I’m not keen on that idea right now. While I was trying to dance her away from the subject she said to me “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”, and I said at a little more than a whisper that I have trouble with that. At that point Carl drew attention to the Wonder Woman mask.
She did encourage me to have a small bubble of people that I felt were being very cautious too and have interactions with them. Today we did this and the picture here is an example of why these people are a part of my bubble. They think about details to keep me safe that I don’t even consider. Even when being fancy they remind people to not spread germs and give attention to the small details. It was much needed interaction and even more appreciated.
