Facing the new reality

A year ago I was told I had breast cancer. While aggressive treatment has ended, I am now faced with the reality of a life forever changed.

I had my final radiation treatment a few days ago. As I left the treatment room, the staff threw confetti and presented me with a "certificate of completion." I hated every minute of the process and I really just wanted to get the hell out of there, but the staff has been unfailingly kind and I understood their intentions were good, so I tried to be a good sport about it. 

I met with the doctor afterward and was told for sure what had been hinted at earlier: the lymphedema in my hand and arm will continue to be a problem for the rest of my life. It may not get worse, but will continue to need continual "management." This was confirmed the next day by my physical therapist.

The radiation oncologist also told me that during the next week or so my skin will continue to be inflamed and the peeling and pain will continue. And the neuropathy in my hands and feet will be with me for months more—or longer.

All in all, I am feeling depleted and depressed. Cancer treatment has been a continual assault on my body, which is forever damaged. I know that the cancer would have killed me and it has (probably) been stopped; but it is not the cancer, but rather the treatment of it, that has caused me so much physical and emotional distress over the past year. 

Add to this the aging process that has turned my skin to crepe and my hair white. And the osteoarthritis that I was already dealing with.

Knowing that robust health will never really return, no matter how many workouts I do, how many supplements I ingest, how much lymph-draining massage I get, how may ugly compression garments I wear, how many medications I take, how many anger-purging exercises I do, how much healthy food I eat—I will be struggling every day just to maintain some semblance of health. And always hanging over my head are the periodic checkups and the possibility of recurrence of cancer.

Judging by comments from other people who have gone through this post-treatment letdown, my reaction is not surprising—except to me.

I thought I would feel like celebrating when the chemo, surgery, and radiation ended, but at this point, I am just feeling exhausted.