One Year Later: Reflecting on a Year of Cancer and The Future
Never in a million years did I think that I would be the girl with cancer a year ago and now, 365 days later, I can’t imagine my life any other way than this. Yes, it has been hard. Yes, it is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. But I am an optimist, always have been, so when I was given this terrible diagnosis, after the initial shock, I looked at it as an opportunity to push myself in new ways. Ways that only people who have been through cancer treatment can understand.
When I was originally diagnosed with cancer, people came out of the woodwork at an alarming rate. People who had gone through treatment, cared for someone who had been diagnosed with cancer, or people who had been personally affected by “the c-word.” I was blown away by the amount of support that I received from complete strangers for months following my diagnosis, and even now, a year later, I still get so many messages from strangers (some of which are now my friends) encouraging and checking in on me. Cancer showed me how many incredibly wonderful people there are out there. It opened up an entire community to me, a community of people who were very familiar with cancer, something that I was completely unfamiliar with.
Over the last few days, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking back to a year ago, to the week of being diagnosed with cancer, and it has been hard. It’s hard to see a date on a calendar and not feel the weight of what that day was like a year prior. At the same time, I am so glad that I am not where I was a year ago, because where I was a year ago was the most terrifying place I’ve ever been in my entire life. In the last year, I have done a lot of things that I didn’t think I could do while in active treatment. When I was told that I needed to get chemotherapy, I was destroyed. All I wanted was to not have to have chemotherapy. But, I was able to accomplish incredible things while getting active treatment, and am still accomplishing incredible things while finishing up Herceptin.
This last year has taught me that we are so much stronger and more resilient than we could ever imagine. It has also taught me to appreciate life in a different way, to spend more time with friends and loved ones, and to cherish every moment even the uncomfortable ones. Cancer has taught me that I can do the hardest thing and survive, but it has also opened my eyes to the fact that we will all die one day and of course that’s terrifying, but it’s also ok.
I watched a former student die of cancer at 19 years old while I was in active treatment for cancer and seeing her pass away, talking to her three days before she died, was really hard. It showed me that we will all face death and that not all of us will live to see 80. Yes, that's terrifying. Yes I want to live to see 80 or 90. But, getting cancer treatment may have shortened my life in order to save it and I have to see that as a positive not a negative thing. There is no cure for cancer and all the things we do to prevent it coming back are just that, preventative, not cures. I may have to spend the rest of my life vigilant and worried that one of my scans will come back positive, but I will also spend the rest of my life so much more aware of how finite it is, that this is a gift, every single day.
I have been referred to as a cancer warrior, survivor, and told that I’m fighting a battle for my life. When I imagine fighting for something I think of a physical fight. I think of doing something physical and hearing people refer to this as a battle has been strange for me. My goal from day one has been to live my life as close to normal as possible. To not let this diagnosis stop me from going to grad school, working, hiking, going on vacations, or taking up space in society. I still don’t see what I’m doing as fighting, but if people want to refer to me as a warrior, that’s fine. I see myself as a normal person doing what anyone who was told they had cancer would do.
Living my life as if I am not in treatment has helped me to get through the last year. It has distracted me from the terrifying parts of treatment. I don’t ever forget that I’m in treatment and I will never ever forget that I had cancer, but it still doesn’t feel real that this is my life. I look back at pictures of me when I was bald or videos of me hiking when I was so anemic and sick and I cannot believe that I did those things or that I looked like that. I did some pretty incredible things (and some slightly dangerous ones too) over the last year, despite a cancer diagnosis and even though I don’t feel like I was the person doing those things when I look back on them, it was me. I did those things.
So what did I do in the last year?
August 17, 2020 was the day it all started. From August 17 - September 17 I was in the diagnostic process. I had one hollow needle biopsy and clip placements, a contrast MRI, and an MR-guided biopsy and clip placements. From September 17 - October 16 I was on restrictions due to surgery. I had a partial mastectomy with reconstruction, lymph node biopsy, and small reduction. They removed a pound of tissue. On October 19 I had port placement surgery.
From October 22 - January 7 I received twelve rounds of Taxol and Herceptin. From January 7 to now I have received eleven rounds of Herceptin (I will get three more rounds). From February 5 - March 8 I had twenty rounds of radiation. Over the last year, I’ve also had three eccos to make sure my heart isn’t being damaged by Herceptin.
Between August 17, 2020 and August 21, 2021 I have had 39 appointments on top of all of the radiation, chemotherapy, and immunotherapy appointments listed above. 82 appointments with medical professionals in a year total. Amidst all of that, though, I was able to do a ton!
In the last year I have taken three graduate level classes, including one doctoral-level class at UNH. I earned an A in all three classes. I have visited with friends many times, (something that I have admittedly barely made time to do in the past ten years). I started freelance writing and have even maintained relationships with two clients that I write for monthly. I went on a two day vacation with my mom to Newport RI. I was interviewed for thirteen(?) podcasts and interviewed by the Appalachian Mountain Club, too, for an article.
I’ve written 84 individual articles for clients and my own website in the last year on top of what I had to write for school. I also have 60,000 words (216 pages) written in my memoir.
What blows my mind the most, though, is all of the hiking and walking that I’ve been able to do while in treatment. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do anything but walk on flat ground for a year while getting chemotherapy. Instead this is what I did:
August 17 - September 17:
44.71 trail miles
Seven hikes
11,608’ elevation
September 17 - October 14:
Zero trail miles
20 miles walking on flat ground
October 15 - January 13:
103.96 trail miles
Twenty-five hikes
29,367’ elevation
January 14 - March 8:
82.33 trail miles
Seventeen hikes
21,774’ elevation
March 9 - August 21:
451.39 trail miles
Fifty-three hikes
Two backpacking trips
112,605’ elevation
Total trail miles: 682.39 trail miles
Days hiking: 102 hikes
Elevation: 175,354’
This isn’t the end. I still have three more rounds of Herceptin. October 14, 2021 feels like the end of the beginning to me. It never really ends, but that is the last day that I have what I would consider active treatment. I’m supposed to be doing ten years of Tamoxifen once I’m done with Herceptin, but I’m still on the fence about whether I want to do this. If I don't, my chance of recurrence within the next 5 years is 20%. If I do Tamoxifen, that chance goes down to below 10%.
I’ve been waiting to calculate all of the mileage and elevation that I’ve hiked because I want to see what that number is from October 21, 2020 to October 14, 2021. It doesn’t feel like August 21 is anything more than another date on a list of really important dates during my cancer treatment. October 14, 2021 is the date. That is the end of this chapter to me. I’m scared of ending this chapter because it feels safe to be in treatment. But I have an exciting and long-awaited plan for the future that I will try to start focusing on over the next nine weeks. Onward.
