My mind is quieter tonight. I sit here, reclined in our bed while A sleeps, and though Dr. O was adamant about me getting more sleep, my mind works, processing today.
I remain no evidence of disease.
Another 20-week reprieve.
Monday night, one of my best friends texted me this reminder
It struck me, the truth in her words, the truth in the privilege of the word “get.”
What a privilege it is.
Summer appointments are hard because it was this time in 2015 when my gut began screaming at me that something was not right with the hard knot I could feel in my left breast. I ignored my gut until August when I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I wonder if I would have called Dr. B if I had not raised my left arm to towel dry my hair that fateful August evening and noticed, with horror, undeniable physical proof something was not right with my left breast. I called Dr. B the next morning. In that moment, my breast cancer roller coaster ride began.
Thanks to Dr. O, I get to be here, for now, and for now is enough. As one of my longtime mentors reminded me when I was first diagnosed, something each day has to be enough, even the smallest thing. That’s gratitude.
I know, come November, my mind is likely to do to me then what it’s done to me over the last three weeks, what I’ve allowed it to do to me. I understand I allow it. I’m not sure how to cope or overcome it. Maybe accepting it, my fear, is enough. I am scared breast cancer will be the end of my story. Appointments with my doctors might always bring up my fears. I have to accept that.
I felt silly at my appointment today. In one hand, I clutched a small, rough amethyst. In my other, I clutched a small chunk of clear quartz. It helped, though, having those in my hands. I rubbed my thumbs along side their edges, smooth and rough, something tangible to concentrate on, to use for stress and anxiety relief. My version of fidget cubes.
My bloodwork was completely, totally, boringly normal. No evidence of anything. No more anemia. No more borderline bad liver numbers. Just normal bloodwork for a 39 years old woman.
I have to go back in September for more bloodwork and scans. Dr. O switched me from tamoxifen to arimidex today. Bone density tests. Vitamin D levels. When I texted my friend with that update, she replied
Get to go.
I get to spend more time with A, S, and AJ, who buried his head in my neck and wrapped his arms around my shoulders when I told them I saw my cancer doctor for a check up and I’m no evidence of disease.
“I love you, Momma,” AJ whispered.
I kissed his forehead. I got to kiss his forehead.
I get to be with them.
As I fall asleep tonight, its with these thoughts. My mind processes. My heart grateful.