Time
flies when you’re cancer-free! Or at least when you presume you are anyway.
Pushing myself to think about my
canc-history, schedule overdue
testing, live preventatively, and sit down to write a blog entry has
proven difficult to say the least. But here I am and there you are—reading
this, thank you—so allow me to update you while plunging myself into a perhaps
much needed reminder of my canc-history.
On
the living-life front, I’ve been as busy as ever. With long locks of flowing
hair (well, not really long but
relative to the stubble I had last year at this time), I’m still fighting the
good fight for animals everywhere. While the usual ups and downs of life
continue, I now see things through the cancer lens. Meaning, I bounce back and
forth between wanting to sink into “normal” living, and not thinking about
cancer; and getting the most out of
life like the women in new anti- arthritis/erectile dysfunction/depression/insomnia
-drug commercials. Most days it’s just normal living but I often am reminded of
how not so long ago I desperately longed for even the frustrations that come
from daily good-citizenship.
On
the medical front, my breast has taken a break from the relationship. I’m not embarrassed
(but perhaps should be) to admit that I haven’t made the effort to have the
suggested April/May MRI done. Yeah,
yeah, I know. But that’s kind of the smartest way to reaching my
one-year-later-cancer-free milestone, don’t you think? Fine, if you don’t agree
with my approach, you’ll be glad to know I’ve finally added it to my ‘to-do’
list.
I didn't say it was on the top of my list. |
Just
to be clear, I had wanted to schedule the damn test back in May. However, I
badly want to avoid an office visit with the communication-deficient oncologist
so I tried to have my primary care doctor order it. She wasn’t having it,
adamantly proclaiming that an oncologist needs to order the test and review
results with me, ignoring my point that I don’t currently have cancer, therefore I’m not in need of an oncologist. Much to my
chagrin, I lost this debate and have been MRI-sulking ever since.
But
more than just not getting what I want from a doctor (I think we’ve all
experienced that), for me, it’s been hard to keep up with the post-cancer
burden of medical tests and mindful living for two reasons. First, after living
(barely) solely as a cancer patient—devoid of meaningful work, neglecting my
role in friendships, and existing as a humorless blob—it’s so hard to even want
to step back into those offices, you guys. It’s like I’m a college student,
free from the stringent rules of my fascist parents who’s now out on the town
with friends, topless and drunk. Kind of.
Secondly,
I may have a tad of fear inside that if I give in to the tests, my clean(ish)
streak will be over. No one wants to be given bad news, right? So if I just
don’t go to the place that they give out the results of doom, I can pretend I’m
cancer free. Let’s not forget the battle-of-the-wills from the professional
pushers that comes with the ominous news. My blood pressure goes up just
thinking about it.
What
changed my mind from stubborn avoidance to prioritizing on my ‘to-do’ list, you
ask? A recent, nice, long talk with my bestie during a weekend in DC for an
HSUS conference. I so rarely talk about the cancer stuff these days but she
prompted me and made some very compelling (and pushy) arguments. Okay, I’ll do
it….promise.
So
my feet-dragging is the result of a bit of denial mixed with stubbornness and
topped with more denial. But—I’m going, I’m going. And before you get
frustrated with me, sending me, “it’s only a test—get it done!” and “you’ll
feel better if you just have the MRI!” comments, please know that what I’ve
shared here are my real thoughts. I’m being open and honest with my feelings
here, which you can’t change and you may not understand. But they’re true for
me.
Besides—perhaps
there’s nothing to fear and the tiny cancer cells within are respectfully maintaining
their microscopic size and are adopting a friendly pledge to coexist without
killing me. Kind of makes them sound adorable, doesn’t it?