It’s freezing. Right now, as I’m writing this its twenty degrees below zero. It is also almost the one-year anniversary of my mom’s double mastectomy. It’s weird because looking back now, I feel like I barely recognize how we got through it. Sure I can remember different things and of course, I can read my blog posts, but just the same, as I think back, I feel like I’m hitting myself on the head with an imaginary two by four.
This all really happened, right?
Is it the shock of survival or the realization that something immense has occurred and only now am I fully appreciating just how immense it truly was?
I haven’t asked mom about this, so I’m not going to use “we” in this post. I will say this though; mom is amazing. I don’t know how she got through this without cracking up, but she did. Of course, I didn’t crack up either, so I guess that means I’m pretty amazing too.
I remember last year around the time of mom’s diagnosis, I felt like we were standing on a precipice and we were about to fall off. Well the fall has occurred, and in the end, it felt more like a shove than a fall. We took that big step or were pushed, and even though we may not have landed, we are definitely gliding along. Gliding was initially quite scary, but now we’re used to it. Gliding is fine.
Last week mom saw her surgeon and he told her that if she hadn’t had her mastectomy when she did, she would either be dead or dying right now. I haven’t even begun to process that idea. In fact, writing it down right now is the first time I’ve allowed myself to even think about it. Perhaps I’ll write about it at another time, I don’t know. I just know I’m not ready to think about that just yet.
Death was certainly there in my thoughts throughout this ordeal, but it was also something I had to force myself not to focus on. I don’t think I would have gotten through this if I had.
This Friday mom will see her oncologist for her three-month lab visit to make sure that everything is OK. I’m pretty sure it will be, because mom continues to improve. Last year, mom was so clearly sick that is was undeniable that something was seriously wrong.
Ironically, mom’s oncologist is also my hematologist, so I will be getting lab work too. They check me every so often to see if my sickle cell trait is out of remission or not. I think that’s fine too, because usually when I’m out of remission, the pain is unbearable. I’m still battling fatigue, but like mom, I’m continuing to improve. They also check for other things since I have a couple of other blood disorders. One of them is potentially fatal without treatment, but I’m receiving treatment and they monitor me regularly, so I’m fine.
Wish us the best and if you’re so inclined send us some good thoughts or a prayer.
Either way, there is one thing this year has taught me, we will find some way to get through things and be fine. So yeah, it’s freezing cold outside, but it was just like that last year at this time. The only difference is that last year we had fear, and this year we have hope.
Gliding along is fine by me.