I’m almost finished with chemotherapy! In between naps, I do a happy dance and look forward to a life without doctor’s appointments every week. Right now, it looks like the last week of January is the last treatment. After that will be a surgery to finish up the reconstruction. Then I’ll start hormones that will knock me into menopause for the next five years.
Today is five months from my diagnosis. Five months ago, my life changed. Five months ago I thought my life was over.
Four months ago, my breasts were gone. Four months ago, I could barely lift my arms to take care of myself. Four months ago, I was afraid. This month was filled with surgeries and a deep, dark pit of the unknown. This was the beginning of chemotherapy.
Three months ago, I lost my hair. Three months ago, I spent half my time feeling nauseated and exhausted. Three months ago, I saw a little light at the end of this tunnel. This was the month I finished the worst chemotherapy and started a less painful kind of chemo.
Two months ago, I started working out with a trainer twice a week. Two months ago, I felt like I was getting part of my life back. Two months ago, I realized how thankful I am for my friends, family, and caregivers.
One month ago, I realized my diagnosis didn’t mean I was finished. One month ago, my hair started coming back. One month ago, I became more inspired to take care of myself and fight to live.
This month I finish the tough stuff and get ready for the next step. I learn to live as a new woman. I may not have the same body I had six months ago, but I’ve learned a thing or two about what’s on the inside being what really counts. I’ve learned to step back and view things with perspective.
This year I have to have a new me, the new me is either going to be defeated and bummed about all the crap that’s happened in the last five months OR the new me is going to rise above and learn from the crap. Breast cancer is not a death sentence. I am going to live and live well. Even if my hair grows back in all silvery gray and even if I don’t have nipples, I’m going to be HAPPY!
Stick with me, this year is going to be the most interesting and exciting year of my life and I’d love to have you along for the ride.
Good times with my sweet sister.
Your attitude is inspiring!
I have no doubt 2103 is your year! So grateful the light at the end of the tunnel is near.
Congratulations on almost arriving at the chemo finish line. I remember being there and it feels great. Now you have the rest of your life to look forward to. My best always!
Thanks so much. I’m looking forward to it.
Dear Gwen,
I am so happy to have become your friend in this fight that we both found ourselves in. I know that you are a remarkable writer and I am so glad that you have been able to share your experiences with others and with me! I have been blessed with your encouragement and your words. One day I hope that we can meet in person. Have a fantastic 2013, you deserve it.
You are too kind. You have been so encouraging. I hope in 10 years we’re both able to share this crazy journey with others & give out hope. One day at a time.
Gwen, you are amazing! I’m so glad that you find the energy and courage to write about your experiences in such a transparent and uplifting manner. I am privileged to know you, and I hope to see a lot more of you in 2013!