Cancer Recurrence Brought Change in Plans

When I look at my blog posts from the past, I realize what a different person I was in some ways: I was not thinking about cancer every day because I thought I was in remission. Yet, three years after being declared as being in remission for stage three breast cancer, I knew it was back. I felt the aching in my bones and knew it in my gut.

Sadly, it took months of waiting until the levels in my blood increased even further to convince my doctor at the time to do a bone biopsy. That meant further spread in my bones and pain before my concerns were validated in a 2022 biopsy: the cancer, was in fact, in my bones. I had felt an ache when I ran on the sidewalk along the park nearly one year earlier, all in an attempt to stay fit, gain the mental clarity that comes on a run, and to stave off cancer (research touts the benefits of cardio sending immune cells into the bloodstream, and I imagined them on a mission to keep the body healthy). This mission did not work as imagined.

I was devastated yet validated when the biopsy confirmed the cancer was in my bones. I began to question whether I had been in remission at all, but that is a story for another day. The aromatase inhibitor, or AI, I had been on since I was declared cancer-free from stage three cancer (likely/apparently/who knows?) in 2019 worked for some time. The AI blocks estrogen from growing in the body, and estrogen fuels my subtype of cancer.

I quickly threw myself into a new remote job that would allow me flexibility, income and insurance security, without the demands of being the defacto business development manager in my role as a freelancer, while I learned how this cancer would be treated.

Because this was a new job and I did not want my cancer to impact it, I did not tell those I worked with, or many people at all, that I had cancer. I soon realized not speaking about it and filling my days with work put me in some sort of denial that I was sick. While I did not look or feel sick--except for the days following chemo infusion--I did not think about cancer in those other days unless I had to. I do not know if it was subconciously intentional or if that was what happened when you work a job and do not allow yourself to divulge your secret because you feel that is necessary for security (though in retrospect, my workplace would have been supportive).

Fast-forward to now, four years later, cancer has progressed here and there and there have been multiple treatment lines. The cancer ultimately outsmarts a certain treatment, begins to grow again, and treatment is switched. And I realized my health and wellbeing are the ultimate priority, so about one year ago, I finally went on short-term disability from my job. Ultimately, I chose to make my health my full-time priority and it is now my job.

Not working is the healthiest choice for me. I realize some need to continue working for a variety of reasons, but for me this is what works best.

Along the way I have learned so much about myself and life, and I continue to do so. And I finally decided it is time to get back to writing.