Skip to main content

5 years post cancer

It is so hard to believe I'm currently 5 years post cancer diagnosis! I am officially N.E.D. - no evidence of disease and that completely blows my mind. 

Life has been good and I've been busy living it, hence, the lack of posts on my blog. 

I do still struggle daily with the residual effects of breast cancer surgery- lymphedema, fibromyalgia, and spinal degeneration. Along with a host of other issues like post cancer PTSD, cording, and insomnia, but I won't bore you. To sum things up, it I were a horse, I'd tell you to take me out and shoot me, but I'm not so I'll suck it up and keep being thankful that I'm still living.

Currently, I'm feverishly working on my book, the story of my cancer journey. In 2014, I felt God prompting me to write about this trial but things have gotten in the way. I haven't been able to sit down and spend time focusing on a book but He keeps reminding me, it's His project not mine, so I'd better get busy. And that's what I've tried to do this week. 

To date, I have over 135 thousand words written on my manuscript. I think that's a pretty good start! Whoever said writing a book was like having a baby had it about right. It's a painful process, especially remembering the past. 

I'm thankful I took the time to blog my cancer journey from day one. That will help make writing the book a lot less difficult but there will still be a lot of detail to add. And, for a novice, there are so many things to learn. 

My hope is to have a publisher pick up the book but if that doesn't happen, I'll self publish. Time will tell. 

So please forgive the lack of posts and keep your fingers crossed that I am able to complete this book by year's end. My goal is to have it ready to submit to a publisher by then and Lord willing, it will happen. All things happen in His perfect timing so I'm trusting Him to lead and guide me on that. 

In the meantime, I'll try to post as often as possible, so stay tuned. Life is good!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out, especially when I read a friend's blog post and I just can't wrap my head around it. This morning, I was reading a post from a fellow breast cancer survivor. She said her cancer has returned and is growing in her spine. As soon as I read the words, I burst into tears. I just didn't understand! We'd been diagnosed with the same type of cancer in the same year. How could it be that her cancer had returned and mine had not? And what made it even more difficult to understand and accept was the fact that she'd chosen to go the traditional treatment route. I'd opted not to do that. She'd endured chemotherapy, radiation, and the anti-hormone therapy afterward. I'd refused chemo, had done 28 rounds of radiation, and had only taken the anti-hormone drugs for a couple of months. It just didn't compute and it certainly didn't seem fair. But that's what sucks about cancer. It doesn't follow the rules.

Incoming!

 When I was a kid, I remember listening to my Daddy occasionally talk about being in the service. Those occasions were very rare so whenever he'd talk, I'd really listen. Once he told about being outside a bunker in Japan. He said planes were flying overhead and he heard a guy yell, "Incoming!" They knew that meant it was imperative to take cover and they did, but some of the soldiers weren't fast enough. They lost their lives in a split second.  That one word was a very serious warning and one I never forgot. I think my eyes bugged out of my head when he first said it although he didn't say it in a frightening way. I imagined the sounds of aircraft overhead as the warning went out. And imagined how I'd have felt if I'd been right there with him. I'd have been petrified, probably unable to move. No wonder so many soldiers came back from war with post traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD). And when they were freshly home, it didn't take much to set t

Cancer the gift that keeps on giving - the high cost of cancer

There's a basket of bills sitting in the corner of my bedroom. I try not to look at it as I enter the room but I know it's there. Its contents spill out onto the floor whenever my husband stuffs another bill into the basket. Usually, when the mail comes, he gets it first so he can filter what I see and what I don't see. Since he's the only one working, he takes care of our financial responsibilities and while I'm thankful for that, I'm not ignorant about our mounting bills. Cancer is expensive. Even if you've reached maintenance phase, it's costly. There are always tests to be run, blood to be taken, doctors to see. It never ends. Just knowing this will be a continual process for the rest of my life frustrates me and the alternative, death, will be my only way out. It would be nice to know that cancer could be a once and done kind of thing but that's only wishful thinking. Everyone knows cancer is a long and very involved illness. I had no id