Today (well, Friday, the day before you get this), I had my first mammogram since wrapping up active breast cancer treatment.
Y'all...I was nervous.
Logically, I knew everything should be fine. Treatments worked. The meds I’m on now are like my magical anti-breast cancer shield. Sadly, logic doesn’t exactly shut up the little voice in your brain that’s like, “But what if the monster respawned?”
Pulling into the parking lot, I went on emotional auto-pilot. I've done the walk into that building and to the 3rd floor SO MANY TIMES in the past 11 months.
It still surprises me how quickly we can slip into old routines.
I didn't know this visit would be unlike ANY others. Here’s how it went down:
I got to see two of my awesome medical team members, and they gave me BIG HUGS. A+ hugging, 10/10, would hug again.
I got my boobs squished in all the ways and all the angles and was happy that it still didn't hurt.
Then I sat. And waited. In a tiny room. For waaaaay too long.
Finally, the door opened. The nurse walked in, paper in hand, and said way too many words before saying, “Everything is clear. We’ll see you in a year.”
Smiles on smiles on smiles.
It was bittersweet. I couldn’t help but think about all the people who don’t get that all-clear. That’s not lost on me, and it makes me even more grateful for the words I got to hear.
Sometimes, it doesn’t matter how strong or logical you are...the fear’s gonna show up. That’s okay. Just show up anyway. And when the door opens, take a big breath and hold onto the relief when it comes.
Please, please, please...Get your bouncy bits, moles, and holes checked...AND ask your loved ones to do it, too.
In case you’re wondering how the medical menopause adventure is going:
Hot flashes? Not as bad as I imagined. I dress in layers and have cool fans that plug into my phone!
Sleep? Terrible. But improving. Sleeping through the night is rare AND i've been able to talk to my grandmother at 3am a few times.
Skin? My chin is taking me back to my teenage years. I'm tempted to put glitter eyeliner on those annoying bumps.
Hair? I am sure nothing has changed but I have convinced myself my hair is thinning.
Basically, I’m adapting. Slowly. With a lot of side-eye and humor.
Thanks for sticking with me on this wild ride. If you’re dealing with your own big moments or anxieties, just know you’re not alone AND you’re doing better than you think.
Sending you hugs (maybe not 10/10 medical team hugs, but still pretty good ones),
Autumn