Enter the Light

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Hormonal Therapy (Part 3)

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Seth and I spent hours on Friday morning talking through my fears for my treatment, and I cried more than I have at any time during this illness, including at diagnosis. He listened to my concerns and read the articles that I handed him and dried my tears, and ultimately said, "We need better information." I realized that he was right - we didn't need more information, but we needed actual data, not anecdotes. Even the articles from reputable sources were of limited helpfulness when they quoted doctors' opinions rather than facts, and many of them contradicted each other about which side effects were most likely to occur. But then I found the results of a National Cancer Institute study called NSABP P1 , wherein 13,000  women at high risk of getting breast cancer were randomly assigned to receive either tamoxifen or placebo. The primary goal of the trial was to assess the value of tamoxifen in preventing cancer, but it also included  a set of questionnaires to as...
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Open Heart

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Yesterday was the fourth anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. It's not a date to celebrate, nor even one that I like to acknowledge, but I also can't ignore what it is to me, its significance and its sadness. I did feel sad yesterday. The world seems almost unbearably full of cruelty lately - children torn away from their parents at the very moment they hope to have arrived at a better life - a mother orca swimming with her stillborn baby on her back for weeks, unable to let him go back into the sea - the horrible abuse of innocents by the men of God entrusted to save their souls - a genocide being perpetrated against defenseless women and children, today, on this planet, without a finger lifted by those who have the might to stop it. It's hard to see any purpose or plan in so much suffering. But then I think that the world has always been cruel, no more or less so now than at any time in human history. What is different is me. Becoming a mother and becoming a cancer patie...
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Brave

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I  went to high school with a woman, J., who  was diagnosed with brain cancer 12 years ago. T hough she and I weren't close friends, we have stayed in touch over the years. She still  writes on Facebook occasionally about her experience with cancer, although having passed the 10 year milestone, she is now considered to be cured. Recently she wrote this: G etting chemo on Christmas Eve 2004: 74 lbs. no hair of any kind, eyelashes, brows gone, finger nails going black and lifting so badly I thought they would fall off and bone pain so intense I was sleeping 23 hours a day. And turning slightly yellow because I have a pissed ass hell liver.  Don't call me brave. Make me laugh. Be real that without a wig and facial hair, yes I look like Gollum. PRECIOUS. Say it to me in that voice, and give me your best come hither look. And let us both laugh because, good lord that is what is needed. J. is not alone in this feeling; most  of the women I have talked to have c...
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