Radiation oncologist appointment today

I had my 6 month visit from Dr. Schneider, my radiation oncologist. I can't believe it's been over 6 months since I finished rads. Scary in a way. I was looking forward to this appointment in a way. When I'm physically doing something towards healing myself, it's easier to handle. Otherwise I feel like I'm in the dark and don't know what to do next. With active treatment, you know that this appointment will happen, this test will be done, I can expect this surgery, etc. When you go months at a time without doing anything, it's freaking scary. How do I know that breast cancer isn't just waiting for me around the corner?

So I go to the appointment with high hopes and a good attitude. The nurse starts asking me normal questions about how I'm doing and my good attitude starts to go down the drain. I get more and more down. Dr. Schneider comes in and does the exam and it goes well. Everything is fine, nothing to be concerned about. He asks lots of questions and I tell him I've decided against reconstruction at this time because I've been given the impression from my dh and family that they don't want me to do it. I need their support to do this and they would give it if I asked, but not willingly. I want them to want it for me and they aren't able to do this. Plus the fact that even with insurance, we can't really afford it. It almost seems like a luxury right now. I'm able to live without out, though not happily. The doctor was concerned about my choice regarding this. He asked if Jason and I have had counseling or if at least I have. After my initial visit with the cancer counselor at Cancer Care Resourses, I haven't been back. It's hard for me to open up to someone who knows nothing about me. They don't know my beliefs or anything. If I ever find a counselor through LDSFS that gets the cancer thing, I'll be there.

Next the doctor figured that I was going to be up for my annual mammagram in September and he set that up. It's hard to believe that it's almost been a year since my last one. Then he is setting me up to visit with a physical therapist with specialties in lymphedema. A couple of fingers on my affected side have been a bit swollen on the lower half of my finger since September and he wants to make sure that I have it looked at and to basically educate me on what to expect and what to look for. I'm simply terrified of getting it. I've seen one woman with a horrible case and I'm extremely careful but not too knowledgable on it. So Dr. Schneider set me up with all these appointments and I'm ready to go.

But I'm so dang depressed!!! I leave and I'm just in a nasty depressed funk the rest of the day. I want to cry constantly and I want to be mothered and taken care of. I finally figured it out. I was fine till I got to the doctor's office which is where I went for all my treatments, both chemo and radiation. I had tons of bloodwork there, xrays, shots, IVs, etc. I've been poked, prodded, pictured, radiated, filled with poison, etc. So no wonder I get depressed going there! I associate that place with pain and suffering and depression. Sooooooo many memories when I walk through that door.

I'm also struggling in another way. I am on a private board where I feel I'm known simply as that chick with breast cancer. In a way it's great because I'm emailed constantly with ladies who are scared about a lump they find and they ask questions. I'm so glad they do that and feel comfortable with me. I find out when a sister or a mother or other family member has been hit with breast cancer. I'm so glad I can help with questions or concerns or anything they need. But in another way, it's so damn hard. I know all the wonderful clinical trials going on to find new meds and treatments for women with breast cancer but every day more and more women are being diagnosed with it. With every announcement of someone I know being diagnosed, I take it personally and become so depressed. One with a reaccurance, one with mets, one with a lumpectomy, or one with something else. It's heartbreaking! The women on my breast cancer board I'm especially close to. It hurts me terribly to hear someone else who has developed mets or has lost the battle to kill the beast. I literally feel another piece of my heart just break off.