After 15 long months – which has included 16 sessions of chemo, 15 sessions of radiotherapy, 15 sessions of immunotherapy, at least 20 blood tests (and a partridge in a pear tree) – I am done. In more ways than one!
Had my final appointment today and although the mammogram results are delayed for a couple of weeks, I am essentially done and dusted until my six-monthly revision.
Dr Kildare wasn’t in today (how very dare he) so not the grand finale I was hoping for. But who the hell cares? A sign-off is a sign-off.
I feel emotionally drained and elated at the same time. It’s like I’ve binge-watched a Netflix drama series and it’s finally come to an end. The bad guys have been blown to smithereens and the good guys are high-fiving the hell out of each other and heading to the pub. And although I feel immensely relieved with the ending, there’s a sense that there’s more to come. It’s almost a bit of an anti-climax.
The worst feeling is that I’ll forever be taunted with the possibility of a new season, even though enough is enough, and another series would make me reach for the gin and box of tissues.
Once you have finished cancer treatment, you are described as being cancer-free, NED (No Evidence of Disease), or in remission. Rarely is the term cured ever used.
Unfortunately, Triple-negative breast cancer is more aggressive than other forms. The recurrence rate is about 40 per cent and there’s a higher chance it will come back within the first three years after treatment. If you can get past the three-year mark – and even better, the five-year mark – then the odds of beating it are about the same as someone with any other type of breast cancer.
If it does make a revival, then this is usually in one of three ways:
- Local recurrence, which means cancer cells will re-appear in or around the original area.
- Regional recurrence is when cancer cells spring up in or around the tissue or lymph nodes where the cancer was originally found.
- Distant recurrence is when cancer cells have travelled through the blood or lymph system and appear in other parts of the body or organs, such as the liver or lungs or in the bones. This is the one you don’t want! It’s metastasised and it can’t be cured.
So why does cancer come back?
Cancer cells are crafty little buggers and move easily and freely around your body so it’s hard for treatment to 100 per cent accurately target, capture and kill every cell. Some cancer cells are left behind after surgery. A 1mm area of cancer can have more than 100,000 cells. It just takes one Houdini to escape the pack. . and imagine the damage it can do.
But here we are. Technically cancer-free. On the plus side, the stats show that in the UK for example, overall, the cancer survival rate has doubled in the last 50 years.
So life goes on, as they say. And it does. The hamster wheel keeps turning.
With that in mind, I intend to celebrate my wins. Any wins and all wins. Because I can. This year has taught me to be grateful and thankful. I count my blessings that I am here. That the treatment worked, even though of course there are days and moments when I feel sad, angry or scared. Not to mention a bit lopsided and unbalanced!
The difference in my breasts became apparent at the recent mammogram as the clinician hoisted Big Barb onto the x-ray plate with a grunt whilst Thin Lizzy just required a little flick into position. I remember a 70-odd-year-old dear telling me her breast cancer story and how the scar tissue from a lumpectomy meant her left breast has defied gravity and resembles what she had in her 20s whilst the other is hanging near her navel. I get you Maria, I get you.
Anyway it is time to put Project Cancer and this ‘blob’ to bed. This last year or so has taken its toll mentally and physically, and I feel like I need to shove this box-set in a cupboard where all the other rubbish movies and series sit gathering dust.
It is strangely quite hard to relinquish something which has been a huge part of me in more ways than one, but I don’t want to give it any power to dominate my life moving forward.
I need to breathe and find my feet again as I return to normal life, whatever that may be!
Ultimately. Cancer changes you.
I read a quote by a lady called Lia Romeo who said: “There should be a verb between “had” and “have.” I had cancer. I don’t have cancer anymore. But I will always have had cancer, and I will always be different than I was before.”
A massive thank you to all for listening and caring.
Over and out.
two steps freelance 