jkgullo's Cancer Blog
October 16, 2008
| In a Perfect World, Cancer Would Ask Permission | Views: 92 |
Just when you think you’re over the toughest part of cancer… along comes another pot hole. Training for the Breast Cancer 3-Day really helped me stay calm throughout all the bumps in this journey. For some reason being in shape kind of gave me the feeling that everything was going to be okay… until I happen to read or hear about a tri-athlete or marathon runner or world champion getting cancer. Hey… that’s not supposed to happen to healthy people?! But it does. I guess there’s nothing I can really do to change my fate. Whatever is supposed to happen will happen. I visited with my oncologist today and told him that I’ve stopped crying. Completely. I don’t cry anymore about cancer. I went through the diagnosis, chemotherapy, mastectomy, radiation, prophylactic mastectomy and breast expansion and cried like a baby throughout the entire process. The ending ceremony at the 3-Day was the most emotional moment. I was surrounded by survivors all crying and people on the sidelines crying … but I remained dry-eyed. What was wrong with me? Maybe I shouldn’t see it that way. Maybe I should instead wonder what took me so long to get to a place where I’m not a blubbering mess all the time. But did it have to be then? At the closing ceremonies?
Oh yeah, the 3-Day… I finally did it a few weeks ago in Detroit. It was AMAZING! Walking 20 miles each day was not a breeze but it was so worth it to experience this event. I could not believe the amount of support we got from people cheering along the sidewalks and towns we walked through. People young and old, survivors, children, even animals dressed up with their pink wigs and shirts that read “I love boobs!” I lost count of all the blisters I got. I even lost a toenail… I know, pretty gross.
When I returned from the 3-Day, I flew to New York for my mother’s 60th birthday. It was amazing. We ate in Little Italy, saw the play “Grease”, and stopped by the Waldorf for a drink just to be able to say we had a drink at the Waldorf. When the night was almost done, I had a silly idea to go see a psychic. I’m not into this kind of stuff usually, but it sounded like the right thing to do at the time. She told me I was going to need to start thinking more positive. She told me I was going to live a long life. Hmmmm? I wasn’t convinced. Hence, that’s where the positive thinking would come into play. I know I need to start being more optimistic, but it’s hard when cancer has interrupted your life. I lived a naïve existence before cancer. The thought of my own mortality crossed my mind at times (maybe for a split second), but I never dwelled on it. After cancer reared its ugly head, my impending “doom” has always been a constant thought. Positivism – I’ve been trying to practice it – better yet, embrace it.
I flew back from New York on Sunday and on Monday went to Saks 5th Ave. with my husband to celebrate the “Key to a Cure” survivor wall. I was photographed a few months ago along with about 20 other survivors for this event. Our pictures were unveiled on the wall and we were there to see it. It was a great night. I got to talk to a 10 year survivor who gave me a lot of encouragement. She had lymph node involvement also and she is still here today to talk about it! I just love hearing those stories.
I had myself convinced that I could handle this latest surgery I just had last Wednesday. Wrong. I just had an expander put in on the side where I had my first mastectomy and radiation. It nearly took everything I had to recover from that operation. Maybe my body is sending me messages… “Hey, I’ve had enough of this! Stop cutting into me!” But, I’m finally on my way to getting my breasts back! It’s been far too long. I’m going to be so relieved on the day when I can throw away that damned prosthesis! Maybe I’ll just back over it with my car? Maybe I’ll throw it in our swamp in the back? Maybe I’ll burn it in our fire pit? Maybe I’ll sell it at a garage sale (that would be hilarious – or just plain weird). Or, maybe I’ll give it to another person who’s going through this now and doesn’t have the insurance to get a prosthesis. I hope I’m happy with my new breasts once they’re finished. But, my breast size and look and feel will not be my choice. Just like cancer. In a perfect world, cancer would be polite and ask us permission before invading our bodies. “Excuse me, Ms.? Would you like to battle me for a couple of years? No? Very well then. I’ll be on my way.”
In a Perfect World, Cancer Would Ask Permission, 
2 comments)
Thanks for your support -
Kelly,
I know we are in different stages of treatment and recovery, but I can so relate to what you wrote in this post. I, too, feel that I lived rather naive life before the cancer. I never ever had thought I would have a life-threatening desease so early in my life, especially cancer. It opened my eye to see the world differently.
You wrote about your struggle with Positivism. I also struggle with having positive attitude. I know having cancer is not in my control, but I spend hours and hours worrying about it. You may not know it, but you are definitely practicing positive and optimistic attitudes, it is shown in your participation in 3-Day, Key to a Cure wall, and spending time with your mom and enjoying LIFE. It gives me hope that you are moving on and having life. It is inspiring.
I can only imagine what you are feeling about wanting to have your breasts back. Expander things are not too easy to take, are they? It is strange saying this, but I really hope you’ll like your new breasts.
Sorry for such a long reply, but just wanted to share my thoughts with you! I too wish my cancer asked for my permission first!
Yuyu
Dear Kelly,
You are hilarious and I so know what you mean! From the moment I heard my diagnosis, I’ve been so frustrated with how cancer just busts into your life and messes with it without any thought of how you feel about it. It can be so difficult to stay positive, especially with what you have been through and are still going through. It may or may not help you to know this, but you are an inspiration. My favorite stories are the ones of women who have fought breast cancer and come out the other side alive. And you are so strong and active! Don’t beat yourself up too much about what kind of attitude you think you should have. It is what it is, right? Congratulations on making it through the 3-day. That’s quite an accomplishment! Be aware of how strong and alive you are. It’s beautiful!
Peace,
Kathy