Not the midlife crisis I was planning on...
A few months ago I realised that my 40th birthday was looming and becoming harder to ignore. Mild panic started setting in - what have I done with my life? I'm running out of time to have a second child, I need to find a career I love, I need to bite the bullet and buy the acreage of rolling hills and start the farm I always dream of... and what on EARTH am I going to do to celebrate my 40th in April 2018?
Then, 2 months later while breastfeeding my son I found a lump.
And here I am, wishing I wasn't.
But I am here, I can't change that, and I'm so very, selfishly, grateful that you are all here with me. I've read so many beautiful posts of support and encouragement from so many women going through similar scenarios. It's helped me immeasurably already and I've only just begun this shitty little journey.
I have two medium sized tumours in my right breast. One is grade 3, one is still being tested. I'm triple negative. I'm taking the neoadjuvant chemo path and started last Friday. My treatment plan is weekly paclitaxel with 3 weekly carboplatin for 12 weeks followed by dose dense AC (doxorubicin and cyclophosphamide) for 2 months. I have my fingers tightly crossed that the chemo runs as smoothly as it can. Following chemo it will likely be mastectomy, possibly bilateral. Given the grade and triple negative status as well as my age as a 'young women' for breast cancer, I don't want to risk any chance of second primaries let alone recurrence. Genetic testing is also in the pipeline. It's a long pipeline apparently...
The irony of being a 'young woman' for breast cancer doesn't escape me. Two years, while attending antenatal check-ups I was considered positively geriatric as a first time mother.
I'm becoming used to the hollowness in the pit of my stomach, the heaviness that drags me down when I'm tired and forces me to contemplate the worst. The idea that I'll abandon my son, that he'll have to grow up without his mother. There are hours in every day where this is unbearable, where the idea that I even entertained the thought of a midlife crisis is laughable. Luckily, now that treatment has started and I have something to work towards, it's getting easier to slip into this 'new normal'. Isn't it amazing how strong we are? Our ability to dissolve into a hopeless, helpless puddle of tears for a time, then pick ourselves up and say "right, lets get on with it" (closely followed by another puddle of tears, and repeat).
So that's me - 39, mother of one and now unlikely to be mother of 2 or 3. I'm full of anxiety and doubts and filling up on research I never thought I'd need. I'm not exactly up for this challenge but I don't have a choice so I'm really glad I've found you all to help me through.
Have a beautiful Christmas with your friends and families,
Cheers
Imo
Then, 2 months later while breastfeeding my son I found a lump.
And here I am, wishing I wasn't.
But I am here, I can't change that, and I'm so very, selfishly, grateful that you are all here with me. I've read so many beautiful posts of support and encouragement from so many women going through similar scenarios. It's helped me immeasurably already and I've only just begun this shitty little journey.
I have two medium sized tumours in my right breast. One is grade 3, one is still being tested. I'm triple negative. I'm taking the neoadjuvant chemo path and started last Friday. My treatment plan is weekly paclitaxel with 3 weekly carboplatin for 12 weeks followed by dose dense AC (doxorubicin and cyclophosphamide) for 2 months. I have my fingers tightly crossed that the chemo runs as smoothly as it can. Following chemo it will likely be mastectomy, possibly bilateral. Given the grade and triple negative status as well as my age as a 'young women' for breast cancer, I don't want to risk any chance of second primaries let alone recurrence. Genetic testing is also in the pipeline. It's a long pipeline apparently...
The irony of being a 'young woman' for breast cancer doesn't escape me. Two years, while attending antenatal check-ups I was considered positively geriatric as a first time mother.
I'm becoming used to the hollowness in the pit of my stomach, the heaviness that drags me down when I'm tired and forces me to contemplate the worst. The idea that I'll abandon my son, that he'll have to grow up without his mother. There are hours in every day where this is unbearable, where the idea that I even entertained the thought of a midlife crisis is laughable. Luckily, now that treatment has started and I have something to work towards, it's getting easier to slip into this 'new normal'. Isn't it amazing how strong we are? Our ability to dissolve into a hopeless, helpless puddle of tears for a time, then pick ourselves up and say "right, lets get on with it" (closely followed by another puddle of tears, and repeat).
So that's me - 39, mother of one and now unlikely to be mother of 2 or 3. I'm full of anxiety and doubts and filling up on research I never thought I'd need. I'm not exactly up for this challenge but I don't have a choice so I'm really glad I've found you all to help me through.
Have a beautiful Christmas with your friends and families,
Cheers
Imo
