My New Reality

A couple of weeks ago, I received news that I never expected, not that I'd never thought about it. I was diagnosed with, to use the cold language of medicine, "invasive ductal carcinoma" of the left breast. In other words, breast cancer. To further complicate matters, a few days after that, I was told that the cancer was HER2 positive, which means that it was of a more aggressive type. HER is an acronym for a very long name of a protein that attaches itself to the receptors of the cancer calls, and actually HELPS them to grow. Nasty stuff.

Thus, my original prescribed course of treatment -- a lumpectomy followed by radiation -- was changed to months of chemotherapy, followed by surgery,  radiation, and immunotherapy. A process that will take about a year, if I'm lucky. More on that "luck" thing in a minute.

The good news (and I'm always looking for it) is that the drugs that target this cancer specifically are very effective. They block HER2 and therefore stop the growth of cancer cells. Thus my prognosis is good. Also, I have 2 good friends who have had the same diagnosis and treatment and who are alive and well. They inspire me and encourage me.

None of this will be easy, but I'm determined. I'm a pretty stubborn person, as my friends and family know, and my life is too good to be thrown away right now. So I'm ready.

I call this blog "Shitty Luck" because of a story a friend told me. She is one of those rare survivors of ovarian cancer, still going strong after a dozen or so years. She is married to a doctor and is very active and fit. When she received the diagnosis, she said she was stunned, and asked her husband, "Why me? Why do I have this?" He just shrugged and said, "Shitty luck!"

That about sums it up.I do all the right things. I get regular checkups (I just had a mammogram in March!!!), eat healthy (vegetarian), exercise regularly, keep my weight at a good level. My oncologist said I am one of the healthiest patients she has. I'm only on ONE prescription medication -- for thyroid. Well, for now.

So why me? Shitty luck is pretty much the only explanation that makes sense. Cancer is capricous and although we know a lot about it, it remains a mystery to us in many ways. And until we can unlock its mysteries, it will continue to confound us, attacking the young and the old, the strong and the weak. And it will leave others -- the ones who are lucky -- alone.

I was going to keep a journal about my new reality, but have been encouraged by friends to start a blog. So here I am, hoping that my words will help in some small way. At the very least, writing about this will certainly help me. I also hope it will help others. I am fortunate in that I have many good friends, as well as family, who are supportive and loving. I am humbled by the outpouring of caring I've received. I am not alone.

I'm posting a photograph of the Bright Angel Trail, which runs from the Colorado River at the bottom of the Grand Canyon to the South Rim. I climbed this trail in 2015 after having been on the river for 7 days. That trip, being in the canyon for that time, was one of the best experiences of my life. I knew, however, that I had to climb out -- for 7.5 miles -- and that the hike would be a tough one. I trained for it as best I could, but have no mountains or sheer canyon walls to climb out where I live.

As I began the hike, early on the morning of Labor Day, 2015, I was anxious. I knew the journey would be hard. But I started walking. As I walked, climbing almost constantly (very few flat spots), I really struggled. I'd stop occasionally, turning to see views like the one below. I'd see how far I had come, and tried not to worry about how far I had to go. But of course I knew.

Every time I'd stop I'd chat with others on the trail, have a snack, enjoy the views. But in my mind I knew that I had to keep going, that I wasn't getting the job done by hanging around. So I kept going. It took me a little over 6 hours to finish, and I was sweaty and tired, but I did it. It was the toughest hike I'd ever taken, and I've done some tough hikes in my time. But I finished it. I really had no choice. No one was going to come carry me out.

This is how I think on the journey ahead of me now. It will be long, it won't be easy, but sitting around worrying about it won't get it done. I look forward to marking off the days as I travel down the road. Relying on my determination, and the love of my friends and family, to get me through this. Oh, and modern medicine. I'm really relying on that! And one day I'll stand at the rim and look down at where I've been, and say, "Crap! I hope I never have to do THAT again!"