How do you feel about “awareness” months? Does anybody else have mixed feelings? It’s breast cancer awareness month, and I’m not really sure how to feel about that. I think people are pretty aware of breast cancer. It’s kind of embarrassing actually, the amount of awareness. There are so many other cancers that need awareness and research and support and funding, but for some reason breast cancer gets so much attention. It feels so overdone and commercialized.

Ben’s soccer team hands out pink socks every October in support of breast cancer awareness. And every October I think, why? As a breast cancer survivor, I don’t want to see pink socks all over the soccer field. It’s triggering to me, and it’s just another reminder of everything I’ve been through. Are the pink socks going to make somebody take action or donate money? I don’t know. Maybe.

Breast cancer awareness month just doesn’t feel genuine to me. It feels like some businesses are just jumping on the pink bandwagon. Who is that really helping?

In the past I’ve posted about craniosynostosis awareness month, and I feel very differently about that month. I feel like I want to educate others because craniosynostosis is so rare, and I want to celebrate my amazing cranio kid. So it’s not awareness months in general that bother me. Just “Pinktober,” as some people call breast cancer awareness month.

Curious what others are feeling about awareness months. Cancer or not – if you have an awareness month that applies to you – do you like it? Do you hate it? Do you acknowledge it? Do you think it’s doing any good? Who is it really for? 🤔

Well I finally got covid. Managed to avoid it for 2 and a half years, but let’s just say I’m not shocked I got it after being back in school last week. There are no more precautions in place at school, and some parents apparently have learned absolutely nothing from the pandemic. There were multiple kids coughing all over the place.

Maybe their parents tested them and they were negative. Maybe I didn’t get it from the kids coughing, maybe I got it from someone who had no symptoms at all. Who knows. But if your kid is coughing a lot, and doesn’t know how to cough into their elbow (I’ve never met a young kid who is good at it), maybe put a mask on the kid? Wouldn’t that be the considerate thing to do?

I’m kind of pissed today. Partly because I feel like shit, I’m feverish, I’m achy, and I have a nasty cough. And I have to miss the second week of school. But mostly because I can’t help but think if I got covid in 2020 or even 2021, I don’t know if I would have survived it. This is not just a cold. I realize some people get mild symptoms, so maybe for some it feels that way. But I’m no longer immunocompromised, and it’s bad. Imagine if I got it when I was immunocompromised. Going through chemo, or even in the year after treatment when it took so long for me to feel halfway decent again. I don’t know how well I would have fought it off.

I think about the people who are immunocompromised now. Cancer, chronic illness, whatever the reason. People who can’t afford to get covid because they have upcoming surgeries or procedures. Or people who literally can’t afford to get covid because they can’t miss a week of work. I feel for all of you.

It feels like everyone has moved on from covid. And I get that. I was SO cautious for so long, and even I am done with masks, done with precautions. I want things to be back to normal too.

But there are plenty of people who can’t move on, for various reasons. They have to stay on high alert, and it’s exhausting.

So this is for all of you who don’t have the luxury of moving on. I see you.

If any of you or your kids have a nasty cough, even if you think it’s just a cold, please test for covid and/or put a mask on, as a favor to others around you. There are many people who would be grateful if you do. ❤️

I was talking to someone the other day about my plans for the upcoming school year. They asked if I was looking for a full time teaching position for September.

I said something like, “I don’t think I’m ready to work full time – I’m just subbing a few days a week right now.”

Just subbing.

It’s true that I will be substitute teaching 3 days a week this year, like I did in the spring.

It’s also true that subbing is not what I thought I’d be doing at this stage of my career.

I’ve become aware that I say “just” way too often. I’m working with my therapist on not minimizing everything I’m doing. I’m not good at giving myself credit. I always feel like I could do more.

But you know what? Subbing is pretty hard. Going into a class, not knowing the routines, not knowing the kids, not knowing the curriculum, not knowing where things are in the classroom. It’s a challenge. I really like it, actually. (Most of the time haha). I love teaching. I love getting to know the kids in different grades.

There is nothing easy about subbing.

And yet, I said I’m “just” subbing a few days a week. Like it’s nothing.

Well, it’s not nothing. It’s actually a big deal for me, and I need to remind myself of it more often. I have a job. It’s hard, and it’s rewarding. On the days I’m at school, subbing allows me to get out of the house, and feel productive and helpful. And on the days I’m not subbing, it means I have time at home with Ellie. It means I have time to catch up on things around the house. It means I have time to prioritize my physical and emotional wellbeing. Plus it gives me time to write, which has become very important to me (more about that coming soon!)

I went through a year and a half of cancer treatment. I think I owe it to myself to try to acknowledge all I can do now. Not so long ago I couldn’t get through a day without napping.

Anybody else feel like you don’t give yourself enough credit? That you’re “just” doing this and that, as if it’s not enough? We all do so much. Being an adult right now is HARD. There is so much going on in this world, so much stress, such high expectations to do ALL THE THINGS.

Next time somebody asks me about teaching, I plan on saying that I’m working at an elementary school 3 days a week, and spending the other days focusing on myself and my family.

The word “just” doesn’t need to be in my response.

I have my annual mammogram today. I actually can’t believe a whole year has gone by – I feel like I’m still recovering from the last one. 🤣

(If you didn’t see my post from the mammogram last year – that day was awful. Uncertainty about what to expect, anxiety when they sent me back in for extra images, plus that heartless mammogram tech… It was just so much stress.)

But the important thing was that I was NED (“No Evidence of Disease” – the term they use for complete remission).

I’m hoping today will go more smoothly, since I do have a better idea of what to expect this time. Plus Eric is coming with me! I almost didn’t even think to invite him. 😆 But the visitor policy has been relaxed, and I can actually have someone there to support me! Imagine that. I went to most of my treatments alone because of Covid restrictions, so I’m so thankful he can come with me today.

The “scanxiety” is REAL. I’ve been so nervous all this past week. I just keep reminding myself of what the doctors told me after treatment: the chance of recurrence is VERY low based on the pathological complete response I had to the chemo, and the fact that no cancer cells were found in my lymph nodes during surgery, etc. Very Low. Holding on to that tight today.

Send good thoughts/prayers/NED vibes this way please!!!!

I don’t think I survived cancer.

It’s not something that’s 

over and done with.

I’ll be surviving 

for the rest of my life.

My body is healing, 

but I still feel broken.

I’m overly emotional, 

or completely numb.

I’m grateful, but angry.

Exhausted, but can’t stop.

I just keep going.

Worrying. Hoping.

Processing. Recovering.

Wondering. Exploring.

Coping. Healing.

Surviving.

It’s been a little over a year now since I had my last cancer treatment. I know I haven’t been posting much lately so I just wanted to give a quick update!

My energy level is good, and my hair has grown back (I even got a haircut!) Mentally I’m doing better too. Therapy, meds, support groups – it’s taken a LOT to get me to where I am now. A year ago I was so lost.

When you’re in active treatment (chemo, radiation etc), the doctors see you regularly. The oncology nurses treat you like royalty. Friends and family check in often. You have a plan. A course of action. You just do it.

After treatment? It’s lonely. Terrifying. Overwhelming.

One thing that has really helped me is that I started following @TheCancerPatient on Instagram, which I highly recommend. It’s funny memes, dark humor about cancer, but it’s also a really supportive community of AYA cancer patients and survivors (AYA= Adolescent and Young Adult, and although I don’t feel young 😂, technically I qualify because I was diagnosed under 40).

I’ve been busy lately, which is helping me as well. I recently started subbing at Ben’s elementary school a few days a week while Ellie is in preschool. It’s been good for so many reasons. A year ago I couldn’t even take a short trip to the store without then coming home to take a nap. Now I can teach all day, on my feet for 6 hours. Am I exhausted when I get home? You bet. But it’s a good feeling. To be exhausted because I worked hard all day – not just because I walked around Target for 15 minutes. The school where I’m subbing also happens to be the same school where I taught a few years ago as a reading tutor. So I know a bunch of the teachers fairly well from working there, and now that Ben is a student there too, I feel even more connected. Being back there has been really nice!

I just celebrated my 38th birthday this weekend. Many thanks to Eric, my parents, and the kids for making it a special day! 🎈 🧁

 

 

This may not seem like a big deal, but I took Ellie grocery shopping today. Some of you may be thinking, so what?

Well I haven’t taken her to the grocery store since I started cancer treatment in January 2020.

We used Instacart a lot during the pandemic, and even once I felt comfortable going in stores again, I barely had enough energy to shop, let alone bring one of the kids with me. I’ve started going by myself more and more as I get stronger and have more energy.

Today I wanted to pick up some things, and I asked Ellie if she wanted to go shopping with me. She said, “in the store?!” She’s only 3. It’s been a pandemic for two thirds of her life. So going shopping in the store as opposed to getting a pickup or delivery is pretty exciting. 😆

So we went shopping. Even used the fun shopping cart with the steering wheel so she could “drive.”

It’s the little things!

Dear Medical Community,

Please, please, please stop using the word “reassuring” so often with your patients.

I think it comes with good intentions, but it’s not as comforting as you think it is.

I get that you don’t want to worry someone unnecessarily. But telling me that I “should feel reassured” doesn’t ever make me feel better. If anything it makes me more worried. It either implies:

▪️there is something wrong but you’re not sure what it is, or how bad it is yet

▪️there is something not quite right, but test results were normal so you don’t know how to help me feel better

▪️you sense than I’m anxious but don’t actually care enough to ask how I’m feeling or what I’m worried about

Don’t tell me how I should feel. Unless you’ve had cancer you can’t possibly know what is reassuring and what’s not.

Don’t try to keep me in the dark. Your poker face isn’t as good as you think it is. Don’t try to give me a silver lining. Don’t try to make me feel encouraged (ugh, another word that is not helpful) by one good test result when there were five other concerning test results. Don’t dismiss my concerns. Don’t sugarcoat things.

Instead, just be HONEST. And kind. And clear. VALIDATE how I’m actually feeling instead of telling me how to feel. And at least pretend like you care.

Here are some statements I’ve heard from doctors in the last 2 years, each followed by what I think would have been more helpful:

“Your mammogram was reassuring but you need to go back in for more images.”

⭐️ “Mammograms are a good screening tool but it can difficult to get a clear picture sometimes. Let’s do an ultrasound and a biopsy so we can gather more information about the lump in your breast.”

▫️▫️▫️▫️

“Your tests came back normal – you should feel reassured that your nerves are functioning normally.”

⭐️ “Your test results came back in the normal range. While that’s a good thing, I know you’re experiencing neuropathy symptoms, and it’s hard to pinpoint why. Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of what’s going on here.”

▫️▫️▫️▫️

“Your exam today was normal, which is reassuring. See you in 6 months.”

⭐️ “You said you are nervous about recurrence. It’s very common for cancer survivors to feel that way, but your chances of recurrence are very low, and your exam was completely normal today! We’ll set you up for your next mammogram in 6 months but let me know if there’s anything I can help with in the meantime.”

▫️▫️▫️▫️

No one wants to get bad news. But the only thing worse than getting bad news is trying to interpret what the doctor is really saying when they’re trying to “reassure” you by being vague.

This is why I’m SO thankful for doctors like my PCP, who is wonderful. She may not have all the answers either but she listens, she cares, and she wants to help. She actually IS reassuring, without ever using that word.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. I was thinking about how to spread awareness, and so I thought I’d share how I first discovered I had breast cancer.

Ellie was just over a year old, and I was still nursing. If you’ve ever breastfed, you know there are all sorts of pains and lumps and sensations you can feel in your breasts. So when I felt a lump, I assumed it was due to a clogged duct. It didn’t hurt though, which was odd, because clogged ducts usually are very painful. That was the first red flag. This lump didn’t hurt.

Then I noticed a little indent, like a little dimple, on my breast. I thought I was probably overreacting, but something made me call my doctor to get it checked out.

When I saw the doctor, she didn’t seem worried at first. There I was, 35 years old, healthy, busy mom of 2. Surely the lump would just be related to breastfeeding.

She asked about my family history. I do have a history of breast cancer in my family. And then I pointed out the dimple on my left breast. That’s when I saw the realization in the doctor’s eyes. She tried to hide her reaction, but I saw it. She suspected cancer. She didn’t say it out loud, but she didn’t have to. Her eyes said it for her.

From there on it’s a blur. The next few weeks consisted of multiple appointments and tests – mammogram, ultrasound, biopsy, MRI, and many consults with various doctors.

Ultimately I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Her2+ Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.

I wouldn’t have started getting routine mammograms until age 40. And it would have been too late.

Trust your gut. I knew something was wrong. I didn’t think it was cancer necessarily, but I knew I had to get it checked. And I’m so grateful I did.

You don’t have to wear pink or donate or sign up for a walk to raise awareness for breast cancer.

Be aware of your own body. Do monthly self exams. Get routine mammograms if you’re eligible. Trust your intuition. Advocate for yourself if you think something is wrong. You know your body best. 💗

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