Stephenie's Reflections on Dx Day # 7
Today marks 7 years since cancer officially became part of my life forever. Recently, people have been throwing compliments my way about how good I look. My hair is getting longer. I don't look as weak and tired. I can walk up a flight of stairs without taking a break... most days. I lost my "moon face" since I stopped taking steroids. I have somewhat of an appetite again. I started wearing eye liner again since my hand tremors have gotten better. It seems like it's all going up from here.
But, there is a disconnect somewhere in my mind. When I look at myself in the mirror, I don't recognize myself. To everyone else, I may look the same as I did before I got diagnosed. Other people look at me and they say things like, "You don't look like you ever had cancer." People hear the word "remission" and they think that I am back to doing everything I did before. It's a nice thought and I know that everyone is just trying to be complimentary. But, I feel that it diminishes the trauma that my mind, body and soul have been through.
Remission is not a cure. I will never be cured. Cancer is incurable. These past four years in remission have been just as hard as going through treatment. My days are still filled with handfuls of medication, constant doctor's appointments, and a lot of therapy, mentally and physically. There are simple activities that I have had to relearn. I worked on my penmanship like I was back in elementary school. I had to practice sitting down and standing up without falling over. I have learned how to walk around when I can't feel my feet because of my neuropathy. I've thrown up at work several times and then I go right back to my desk because it nausea randomly sneaks up on me.
These are some of the things people don't think about when they think about young adult cancer survivors. Your twenties and thirties are focused on things like friends, family, career. I had to be cleared by my doctors to be able to start a family.
People always ask if I froze any eggs before starting treatment. This is what happened. They told me it was an option so they sent me to a reproductive specialist. They did blood work and told me that all of my levels were normal for my age and I have the average number of eggs (or whatever) for someone my age. Since I had hodgkin's lymphoma, a cancer some consider "an easy cancer," they told me that freezing my eggs wouldn't be necessary and that the timeline for my treatment wouldn't allow for them to do the entire retrieval process anyway. I'm told that these days, the retrieval process can be expedited before treatment.
Egg retrieval was never mentioned again as I failed treatment after treatment. It wasn't even mentioned before my transplants. Now that I have been through chemotherapy, immunotherapy, total body irradiation, an autologous stem cell transplant, and an allogeneic transplant, my menstrual cycle has not restarted. That is a sign that my body is no longer able to produce eggs. The testing tomorrow should confirm the doctor's hypothesis.
This is not what I thought my life would be like at 33. But, I am strong believer that I was chosen for this journey to help others. I write my thoughts out to educate and inform. I know that although I have this disease for the rest of my life, I am also lucky enough to have a large support system behind me with a lot of resources.
One of the greatest lessons cancer has taught me is that time is our most precious resource. We will never have more or less of what time we are given so we can't waste it. Spend it with people you love doing what you love.