September 26, 2020
Cancer.
Six little letters. Such a big word.
On November 29, 2019, two months after my initial visit to the ER, I sat in the gynecologist’s office and listened as he told me I had endometrial cancer. Shock. Disbelief. Fear. I had all the expected feelings that come with hearing the unexpected. I was told I would have surgery and it “should” take care of it. Maybe I would need radiation, but that would be it.
But when I received my pathology results after my surgery, I learned it had spread. It had spread from my uterus to my lymph nodes. That spread meant I had stage 3 cancer. STAGE 3! That hit me like a freight train. Through tears, I made my way to my car outside the oncology building in Moncton, where I sat bawling for a long time. I would have to have radiation. I would have to have chemotherapy. Chemo! Ya. Boom.
I soon found myself walking down the long hallway to the oncology department at my local hospital to meet my oncologist and my radiologist. I went to chemo sessions, I read up, I prepped, and I worried.
I spent 27 days, over six weeks this spring, going to radiation sessions (25 external and two internal – super fun!) and having two mild doses of chemo. Then, over nine weeks this summer, I had four treatments of two more kinds of chemo.
Other than knowing I would lose my hair (goodbye ginger!), I wasn’t sure what to expect. Sure, I knew all the possible side effects, but I was told everyone responds differently. Thankfully, I experienced minimal side effects, with the shortness of breath that kicked in before chemo round 3 being the worst (besides hair loss – I’m not a fan of that one).
My last treatment was August 26, which was followed by a CT scan on September 16. The scan looks for evidence of disease. Yesterday, exactly one year after my first visit to the ER, I got the results of the CT scan. No evidence of disease. NED! That’s the news I wanted to hear. You can bet we popped the cork and raised our glasses to the good news.
I want to thank my friends who have been incredible. My long-held belief that I am an island has been shattered. I needed a village and I am so grateful they were there for me. I could not have gotten through this without them. From drives, to waiting it out during surgery, to bringing me groceries & meds, to taking me wherever I needed to go, to picking up Finnegan, to removing my surgical staples (while I acted like a big baby!), to sending flowers, to shaving my head (that’s a big ask!), to checking in on me, to listening. A lot of listening. I love all of you. I appreciate you more than you know.
Although there is a chance of recurrence, today I am free of cancer, and trying to stay positive (hard for me!). Today, I do not have cancer.
If you would like, consider making a donation to one of these organizations.
