Psychosomatic Symptoms (difficult to endure)

On my last day of chemo (July 1st), my nurse, Kathleen, gave me the talk that she probably gives to all of her patients as they end chemo.  She told me about follow up visits, things to watch for, when to call her and all the usual end of chemo stuff.  And, then she told me that the last day of chemo is an emotional and difficult day for a lot of patients.  I had been monitored and treated and weighed in and blood tested every other week for four months.  Next I would go on to radiation, and I would be monitored and treated and weighed in and followed for another 28 days.  And, the end of all that monitoring and following and treating can be difficult too.

The end of treatment would be the beginning of life as a cancer patient on my own.  Kathleen told me that in the beginning anytime anything hurt, like my toe, I would think that it might be a cancer recurrence.  And, that was normal.  But, she promised, over time I would stop thinking that every little ache and pain was cancer.  That it would just be an ache or pain. 

Kathleen was right.  Post treatment/no treatment is emotional and difficult.

I have so much time now.  Cancer treatment kept me very busy.  I'm not chemo foggy anymore.  And, I'm not exhausted.  So I have a lot of time to think about me and this body.

I have time to do a full body scan every morning when I wake up.  Is my shoulder stiff?  Does my scar tissue feel tighter than the day before?  Does my implant hurt?  Am I bloated?  Do I feel crampy?  You get the idea.

As if being vigilant about how my body feels will help me prevent a cancer recurrence.

(To be clear, the cancerous tumor in my breast was so small, I couldn't even feel it when the surgeon showed me where it was.  So what am I doing with the daily full body scan routine?  Nothing that is prognostically helpful.  But, still I do it.  Everyday).

So if I'm checking everyday, of course I'm finding aches and pains.  A month ago, I was feeling bloated and had a dull pain in my abdomen.  I was sure that when I went for my next follow up visit, my oncologist would tell me she suspected a cancer recurrence in my liver.  It turned out that my ovaries had turned themselves back on, and I got my first period since I had started chemo last year.  (Chemotherapy puts some pre-menopausal women into menopause; and some women not.

Then last month, I bruised muscles in my ribcage, and I was positive that my breast cancer had metastasized to my ribs (like Elizabeth Edwards). 

No low level, amateur anxiety for me.  If I'm going to be anxious about a cancer recurrence, I'm a an anxiety professional.  I'm going big--or I'm going home. 

So that's what it's like to be in my body (and my head).

The song in my head these days is "Adelaide's Lament" from Guys and Dolls (Faith Prince, the 1992 Broadway production).  It reminds me that these aches and pains are (fingers crossed) "psychosomatic symptoms, difficult to endure."  And, I'm going to try to let the experts monitor me--and (fingers crossed) not find a recurrence. 

(But, if I'm being completely honest, right now, as I write this, my ribs still ache--a little.  And, I'm not entirely convinced that it's just a bruised muscle, yet).

Moving forward . . .

crab (cancer) hunting (Punta Cana, 2011)