Two days after receiving my diagnosis, I went food shopping. I remember moving so SLOWLY in the store as I gathered items. I am usually rushing through the food store and getting out of there within 15-20 minutes with a cart full of food. That day I was SLOW. I was just letting it sink that I have cancer. I stood in the produce section and watched all the scurrying around then I wondered, "How many people in this room have cancer?" Do I feel alone? Yes I do despite the wonderful support system I have. I ache for connection with those who went through what I did. Talking with those who survived cancer helps. I want to talk with more women who had endometrial cancer before menopause. They are hard to find.
Immediately after I found out, I felt like I was given a death sentence. I wanted to quit my job, quit the doctorate program, and just cancel all of my future plans. I took a time-out from work for 1.5 days which helped me recollect myself. Mike told me that I HAD to continue living. Stick with what I am doing and just figure things out as I go along. I am doing just that. I struggled with going to my hair cut appointment. Mike had to push me out of the house to get there. I really like my new hair stylist. She did a great job with my curls. Last night, I willingly went to get my hair colored. I do not know if chemotherapy is in my cards but... I still have hair and I deserve to be pampered. Mike had a conference to attend in Nashville at the end of January. He offered to cancel this trip but I figured Mike needed to continue living just like I did. It proved to be a nice getaway for us as we processed the news. I have a training to attend in Salt Lake City next week that I am looking forward to.
On way back home from Nashville, we took a detour to do the Tail of the Dragon drive. A crazy route-- 318 curves in 11 miles. I ended up posing for this picture above. Later, I realized that it's precisely how I feel about my endometrial cancer (dragon) invading my reproductive system.
The 'slow motion' feeling I was experiencing made me realize that I cannot return to my 'rat race' lifestyle. Routine became hard for me to keep up with. I decided that I was going to take a day at a time. I had to go day by day to see what I wanted to do, felt like doing and etc. Routine came back to me slowly. I am less hard on myself when I do not accomplish what I set out to do. I am more forgiving towards myself. I can only do my best in a day. If I'm not done, there's always tomorrow.
It was interesting to see how the cancer impacted my friends and family. Some of them treat me differently. I am grateful that many of them still treat me the same. They do not realize but they are drowning me in questions that I cannot answer. I felt overwhelmed by all the emails and texts with questions: "What stage?", "How bad is it?", "What are you going to do?" I realize it comes from them caring so much and being concerned about me. I appreciate the concern but those questions do not help. I am just figuring this out as I go along. I continue to learn new things about the cancer. By the way, it has a name.... CANCER. Some people just don't want to use the word: CANCER. Instead, they call it... "the challenge", "the disease", and "the illness." It's simply CANCER, period.
Just be ready to listen is all I ask. Do not drown me with questions. I have the tendency to want to take care of people. And when I see many emails and texts, I want to take care of people's need to know. It gets very exhausting to try to address each email and text when I need to be researching more, preparing for aggressive treatments, participating in cancer support groups, or simply be in the moment.
Family and friends have offered solutions and opinions of how I should handle it. One male said, "Okay why aren't you getting the surgery now?" It felt like it was just simple as 1, 2, and 3. It is not. Sure... I want the cancer out. I wished I had responded to him with this, "How would you feel you had to get your balls cut? Would you just say, 'Okay... what time tomorrow can you cut them off?'" Ironically, endometrial cancer is supposedly the best cancer to have because it is easy to cut out the cancer. I do not think it's that simple. Take part of my liver away. Take part of my brain away. Take my breasts away. Take skin cells away. Cut the tumors out. I'm okay with all that. BUT my entire female reproductive system... AGH. It's not entirely about the fertility. It is about my sexuality. How will it change? I'm 38. I did not expect I would have to go through menopause overnight. Menopause for women in general naturally progresses over a period of a few years. It will happen overnight for me. It is overwhelming for me. I did not sign up for this. Losing ovaries also puts me at higher risk of heart disease and osteoporosis. Both sides of my family have history of heart disease and osteoporosis. Clearly, I want to arm myself with awareness and mentally, physically and emotionally prepare myself well for the surgery without jumping into it and being thrown off. The better prepared I am, the better I can adapt.
One frequently asked question from friends and family that I struggle with the most: "What can I do to help?" I have always been VERY independent. It's who I am. I do not ask for help. Although I have learned over the recent years, it can be good to ask for help. Slowly but surely. I really don't know what my family and friends can do to help. It's hard work to figure that out. If I come up with a list, how do I know you would be able to do those tasks? I remember being sick a few years ago and someone asked me if she could bring me something. I decided to say yes and asked if she could bring me soup. Her response: "You live too far away." Reality: I lived 15 minutes away. One person contacted me via Facebook that really touched me: "I am not going to tell you to ask if you need something. All of my friends who have been where you are say it is easier when folks just offer." Bingo! She offered to send her local family and friends to bring me food when I need to- probably after the surgery. One person offered to do research for me. One sent me apps related to cancer support and resources. One simply sent me a knitted cap to keep me warm. One sent me a care package and made my day. Two sent me flowers. One made a surprise visit and brought flowers. One decides to text me often to check in and to share random comments like I am supposed to be peeling ginger with a spoon as opposed to a knife or peeler. Friends wanted to say prayers for me. Mike offered to take on some calls. I find that I am able to accept offers of help if people are willing to. Just offer to do something and I will respond. Or just surprise me and I will be very appreciative. Don't ask me what you can do for me because the truth is I don't know what you are willing to do.
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