Cancerversary #3 passed without much fanfare this month. In April, I am due back at the oncologist for a follow-up visit. Currently, I go once every six months.
I do not feel secure; I know too many stories of recurrences after 3, 5, 12 + years. But I am cautiously optimistic. These days, my active worrying is likely to be about (a) regular family stuff or (b) the economy and the associated fallout.
When my body exhibits a quirk, anything from a rash to a broken blood vessel, I am reminded of my vulnerability.
I check my breasts and poke around my armpit and collar bone to check for lumps, but not obsessively. Once, someone pointed out to me that if I check for lumps too often then that becomes like trying to watch my children grow – a change could be so gradual that I’d actually miss noticing it. And since that made complete sense to me, I was able to let go of obsessively checking for trouble.
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