A Happy Anniversary

Eight years ago on January 4, I had what is referred to as debulking surgery. My surgeon removed three very large tumors, my ovaries, fallopian tubes, omentum, 12 lymph nodes, and every speck of cancer he could see. I had already had my uterus and cervix removed earlier, so he basically cleaned out my abdominal area.

I remember being so naive, that after the surgery I asked him if I was going to need chemo. He looked at me like I had just arrived from another planet, and he said, "Uh, yeah."

So after healing and getting a port, I went through six rounds of chemo and two years of a maintenance drug, and besides a bout of a barely there bladder cancer, I continue to be cancer free, eight years later.

Despite everything I have gone through since then, I have to consider myself blessed. Crazy, no?

I am pretty certain I survived everything I have survived for a couple of reasons. First off, amazingly skilled surgeons. It is not all that common for someone with advanced ovarian cancer to remain cancer free for as long as I have. There is a small percentage of women who do not recur, and I decided, why can't I be one of those women. I have not changed that much about my life-- no, I'm not juicing, I still drink wine. But I remain optimistic.

How I managed to survive getting hit by a bus is anyone's guess, because there were times when I was anything but positive, but that, too has changed. And the aneurysm. I think I survived that because in addition to having a star surgeon, I didn't know how serious it was, so I assumed I would fine.

I have a small circle of friends who are ovarian cancer survivors. We met at a retreat in Montana. They help keep me going. A few are no longer here, but I know they lived their lives to the fullest. And the ones who are still here inspire me every day.

I didn't know jack-shit about ovarian cancer when I was diagnosed. I had all the classic symptoms, but even my primary care physician didn't recognize them. I try to educate women about the symptoms, but it's hard to know how much of what I tell people or post on line is taken to heart.

While I don't dwell on it, being an OC survivor is never far from my consciousness. And perhaps that's a good thing. I thought I was having a recurrance and immediately reached out to my gynecological oncologist, and he ordered a CT scan. No ovarian cancer, but that was when my miniscule highly treatable bladder cancer was found.

I am not a religious or spiritual person, but I am a hopeful person. It's my placebo effect. That, and vigilance, have kept me going thus far, so I will keep at it for as long as I can.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The (maybe not so) Long Goodbye

Trauma

Trauma Revisited