Yesterday afternoon I got a call from my breast cancer surgeon. That MRI I had last Friday night? It found something.
I’ve got a new lump in my right breast. It’s very small, it might not be cancer, it might just be scar tissue, but it’s in a completely different area of my breast than the cancer and surgery was. It’s where the MRI last Spring found an “area of suspicious enhancement.” I never did find out exactly what an area of suspicious enhancement was, exactly, but after another ultrasound last Spring I was told that it was probably a false positive on the part of the MRI. Now, six months later, there’s a lump there. The surgeon wants to wait and see. She’ll MRI it again in six months and see if it’s changed.
I feel like I just got off the cancer merry-go-round, and I don’t want to jump back on again just yet – especially if there’s nothing I can do about it. I had to get used to having cancer in the first place, and then I had to get used to not having cancer, and now I have to get used to not knowing if I have cancer. And doing nothing. Just waiting.
It’s not that I’m worried. I’m not. One of the benefits of having had cancer is that it stripped the word ‘cancer’ of its power to terrify me. I’m not scared of it anymore. Or maybe I’m just not scared of breast cancer. Or my breast cancer. I don’t know. But I’m not worried or scared.
It’s just that I’m weary. I moved through this past six months on the strength of positive thinking and tons of support from other people. I borrowed positive momentum from everybody I know, including all of you. But a week ago today, when I finished my last radiation treatment, I finally exhaled. I let it all go, all that momentum, because I thought I didn’t need it anymore…I’d made it to the finish line and now I could just let go. I never imagined I’d need to muster it all back up less than a week later. I’m trying, but so far I’m mostly just feeling kind of lackluster and drained.
In the good news department, my back incision has finally healed. The home care nurse pronounced it sealed yesterday, and for the first time since mid-September, I’m dressing-free. (By the way, in case you think I haven’t had a shower for two months, I have to set the record straight. Shortly after Home Care started coming in, they switched to waterproof dressings just so I could shower.)
In other news I’m going to try to get my flu shot today. It should be good for a blog post if nothing else.
And finally, my nanowrimo novel is up to 17,378 words. The last couple thousand words have been kind of smutty, which surprised me even more than the boyfriend who hanged himself in the closet on Page 1.