Thursday, August 14, 2014

It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want To

Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of my diagnosis with Stage IV gastric cancer.

I've spent the last two weeks trying to figure out how to observe this day. My husband has been encouraging me to do something fun and exciting. A friend of mine who had uterine cancer marked her one year anniversary by climbing a very steep hill in her home town, just because she could.  Some of you reading this must have marked similar anniversaries. What did you do?

It's strange to think of celebrating one year of having cancer. On the other hand, my treatment has gone better than expected and the fact that I am still here is certainly reason to celebrate!  But still, nothing came to mind when asked how I wanted to observe this day. Nothing seemed appropriate. I thought and I thought, talked with some friends, but still, nothing.  I needed a way to both celebrate and grieve at the same time.

While this year has been promising in terms of my treatment, it's also been a year of intense changes and loss. I've lost my old "normal" life. The satisfying day to day routine of my old life is gone. The professional goals I'd set for my self now seem unattainable.  Right after my diagnosis things were unpredictable and surprising. Then came a period of "my new normal", which may have been predictable, but was not the satisfying routine of only a few months before. Now I often describe things as "par for the course". Fatigue, neuropathy, and everything thing else are just the same old same old.

Next week, I have a ct scan. If it shows that things remain stable, I'll take a little break from chemo, probably four to six weeks. This will provide a break from the same old same old. Hopefully my side effects will diminish and it will provide me the opportunity to attempt my old routines without the interruption of treatment and the recovery time that requires.

So tomorrow, my husband and I will have breakfast with one friend, lunch with another, and dinner with still others. It'll be my party, but I'll cry if I want to.

Update: I didn't cry. Instead, I hugged a friend in a penguin suit at Dunkin' Donuts.