I heard Messenger ping as the notification came through on
my cell phone. One of my high school friends was reaching out to let me know
she’d received a date for surgery and her treatment plan.
Several weeks before, she’d let me know she’d been diagnosed
with breast cancer. I was sorry to hear it and gave her my sympathies but also
my love and support as I assured her, I’d be with her every step of the way.
She told me what the surgeon had said she’d need not only to
have her breast removed, but also some lymph nodes. My heart went out to her,
though our diagnoses were slightly different, they were very much the same.
I penciled in her surgery date on my calendar and made a
mental note to pray for her that day. I also wanted to check in after surgery
was over, so I circled a day later that week in red. That way I’d be reminded
to call and talk with her.
She told me she’d have 4-5 rounds of radiation and would
then have a port installed for chemotherapy. As I read her words, they were so
matter of fact, I knew, as I read between the lines, she was in shock, the same
as I had been when I received my treatment plan.
She said after radiation and chemo was over, she’d start
antihormone therapy. I asked which drug her doctor had recommended and she said
Arimidex. That’s when the feeling of Déjà vu became even stronger. I’d been on
the same one until I couldn’t tolerate it.
I did my best to give her a nutshell version of what to
expect as each aspect of her treatment occurred. I knew she’d appreciate my
sharing personal experiences with her.
After she thanked me and we ended our conversation, I paused
to remember a certain week, almost 10 years ago, when I got the same type of
news. It was an extremely hard day. The whole week I walked around in
disbelief.
I didn’t have anyone to tell me what to expect, though I
wished I did. It would have been so helpful to have known ahead of time what
was coming my way.
I was thankful I was able to give my friend a heads up. And
not only did I do that, I told her she had a right to ask for a second opinion
and could refuse any part of the treatment plan she didn’t feel best suited for
her.
Little things like the message I received can spark memories
of my active time in cancer land. While I’d much rather forget my time there,
I’m also thankful I can use those days to support and inform the newly
diagnosed.
Cancer Déjà vu, I don’t know if it really exists or not.
It’s just a phrase I coined to explain the way I felt when my friend reached
out, but I’m sure those who’ve experienced cancer will know what I mean when I
say that.
It’s hard to relive time in cancer land. The feelings of
“been there, done that” aren’t ones we enjoy, but those feelings are real and
may pop up when someone we love and care about goes through a similar
situation.
As a good friend, I think it’s important to share openly and
honestly as we remember our own journey, but not to overwhelm someone with
things they don’t need to know.
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