Sunday, May 5, 2024

Four Years Out From Cancer Treatment

Does time heal all things? Four years have passed since the end of active cancer treatment and almost the same amount of time since starting “inactive” treatment or aromatase inhibitors. So far no evidence of disease, though the effects of treatment of disease still hang around–scars, numb toes, joint pain, brain fog, slightly wavy hair, sparse eyebrows and eyelashes.

Time hasn’t done much for my disgust with fragrances, but they usually aren’t the gut punch that they used to be. Why do people buy these toxic products? They are putrid, noxious, fake versions of odors that are supposed to smell good. Fabric softener wafting through the neighborhood is air pollution. Stop putting this crap in your laundry.

My energy has never really come back to pre-cancer levels. Maybe some of that is old age, but I suspect past and present drugs to prevent or kill cancer cells also sapped the life out of me. It’s hard to know if I am overdoing it until afterwards, when the urge to lay down hits, but it doesn’t ease the fatigue. Part of me wants to do a lot of projects, but the other unmotivated part says “meh”. The list of things to do sits with few items crossed out, especially if they involve hiring a stranger to fix things.
I still try to be active, but not as much as before. Overdoing sometimes has the consequence of an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. A lot of energy went away and never came back. Part of that is the hormone blocker sucking the life out of me. Doing things requires weighing the cost in energy and mood. Exhaustion from a cough and cold made me cancel a bird trip signed up for weeks in advance.

The loss of motivation and ability to do a long run or race is depressing. Most people don’t do ironmans forever, but at least they have a choice. Racing used to be important to me, but after the pandemic, not as much. Time is limited and the world is out there to be explored. Hours long workouts don't seem viable.

Pain comes and goes. My tooth hurts, then the ache goes away. Excruciating back pain comes on suddenly, then goes away, usually when I see a doctor about it. It’s maddening. It’s nice that the problem goes away, but only after worry, time and money are spent chasing the solution.

 I have learned to take the initiative and not wait for a doctor to notice a problem. After repeatedly tripping, I saw a neurologist who ordered a brain MRI and then PT. Falling often banged up my poor knees, which would then bleed profusely, dripping down my legs. A bad fall would hurt for weeks. Luckily, a good physical therapist helped my balance as well as neck and back pain.   


The supplements that make life semi-
                                                      bearable. Not all are pictured

I still use support groups, but they seem less important.  Just out of treatment, support groups helped my sanity and pandemic isolation. Now, being this far out from treatment, hearing about about breast amputation is a bit triggering. Still, maybe I have moved on, but need the connection of people with similar experiences. People who haven’t been through this experience generally don’t understand it. “You are back to normal, right?” Not really, like ever.

Brain fog has stayed the same, probably because of the hormone blocker. The brain needs estrogen to work well. Everything takes longer due to not remembering what the hell I was doing or need to do. Leaving the house requires an inventory of what I need to bring. Sunglasses? Oh, they are in my hand. Forgetting costs time and money. The right word escapes me in a conversation. An important detail gets lost in the muddle of scrambled thoughts. Multi-tasking is out because it requires the mind to work well.

My biggest issue at this point is whether to continue more than five years. My oncologist thinks that the Breast Cancer Index Test would not be helpful, since I am “high risk”. I disagree since I was only one point into the range of needing chemo according to the Oncotype Test that analyzed the tumor genetics. The tumor was small and had not gone to nearby lymph nodes. Counter to that is a strong family history of cancer and dense tissue that can hide suspicious areas. Logically, it would be better to have more protection against recurrence, but quality of life is also a factor.

All the forced interaction with doctors have made me skeptical about what they say. One of the side effects of hormone blocker is loss of bone density. Reclast was recommended for me, but it caused me eye inflammations. Doctors don't want us googling everything, but they don't tell us enough. Trust, but verify is the old adage. Being one's own advocate is essential. I declined any more bone drugs. Hopefully, the bone density will not decline too fast.

Hormone blockers for me have ranged from utterly unbearable to barely tolerable. Tons of supplements, an antidepressant and lots of exercise make taking it manageable, but at times the side effects are miserable. The drug sucks out life and joy. Even fun activities have the happy edge dulled into a numb emotion. Sleeping is difficult at times, making me feel like a zombie the next day. Sleep is precious and I need it desperately.

The worst is the fatigue that it brings on.  Stamina to do things like travel or even yardwork seems precarious. Will a burst of activity result in an exhausted stupor the next day? I never know. I don’t expect pre-cancer levels, but it would nice to be more functional.

Sometimes, I cheat and not take the pill if I need to travel or engage in a strenuous endeavor. The brain needs to function to solve various challenges of navigating in a strange place. The body needs energy to hike across challenging terrain. Living takes mental and physical stamina that lack of estrogen takes away.

I want my life back, or some semblance of it. The idea of continuing the drug distresses me hugely. It’s mental as well as physical torture. A little pill cannot definitely prevent cancer, just give me better odds. The question is whether it’s worth it. More misery for more maybe disease free years? I just don’t know.

So no, time doesn’t heal everything, but I am grateful for what I have and what I have avoided. No amputations or recurrence yet. But life is short. Happy needs to be chased. I can’t wait around for someone to take me on a trip, to do something scary and adventurous with, or to do a bucket list item. I just have to find the damn energy to do it.