It’s that time of year again. Time for my 6 month oncologist appointment update. The hospital kindly sends me this oddly innocuous and rather bland looking reminder postcard shown above, twice a year, and I leave it laying around on the kitchen counter for a few weeks ignoring it and pretending it’s not there until the day I muster up my courage and call the office to make the appointment with a lingering feeling of dread.
It’s not really that bad, other than the blood draw. It’s just weird to have an appointment with an oncologist, the very definition of the word is rather daunting.
Oncologist: A physician who specializes in the diagnosis and treatment of cancer. After a cancer diagnosis is made, it is the oncologist’s role to explain the cancer diagnosis and the meaning of the disease stage to the patient; discuss various treatment options; recommend the best course of treatment; deliver optimal care; and improve quality of life both through curative therapy and palliative care with pain and symptom management.
I don’t think I have cancer anymore so it’s kind of weird to still be going to a cancer doctor every 6 months. But the alternative frightens me. To be left rudderless without a true north pointing me in one direction, to have no expert there monitoring my cancer is going to be a scary moment for me. I’ll be on Tamoxifen for another 4 1/2 years so I’ll be seeing my oncologist for that entire period of time. Part of my decision to stay on Tamoxifen for 10 years was for just that reason, to keep the connection to someone who is a cancer expert, someone who knows how to tell the signs of a return, if there should be one. Someone to reassure me that there will most likely be no recurrence and I will remain NED (no evidence of disease).
I consider myself to be on borrowed time, a huge and lucky reprieve. Every life landmark is a windfall; my daughter has graduated from high school and is now in college. My son graduates this June and next fall he’ll be entering college so there’s that – got them both through high school and into college. That’s a big one. Anything above and beyond them graduating from college is gravy, the icing on the cake. I’ve gotten the two of them through the most important parts, now it’s going to be up to them. I sure want to be around to watch them grow into adults, and all the subsequent life events like weddings, grand-kids, their careers; but getting them this far feels really important and satisfying.
So I’ll embrace the word oncologist for now, and make my 6 month appointment. I’ll keep eating healthily, take my daily walks with Tucker, drink a lot of water, get enough sleep, reduce my stress, work at not reacting to things with anger. Focus on gratitude and being present to what’s in front of me each day, instead of constantly worrying about the future as I spent so much of my life pre-cancer. Work on maintaining as stress free a life as I can. And take my cue from Emerson: “Nothing can bring you peace but yourself.”
Good for you, Claudia! We had a doggie named Tucker…sadly he is gone now, but love that name.
You’re the only other person I know with a dog named Tucker. He’s the best……sorry yours is gone now.
Thanks for posting. Gratitude and being present–so important in our daily lives. Good to have a reminder.
Thanks, Risa. I have a plate on our fireplace mantel that has the word “GRATITUDE” engraved in it and it’s a nice reminder of how lucky I am for my life, each morning when I pass it on my way downstairs. xo
I know how you feel, Claudia. It’s been 12 years since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My oncologist turned me loose after five years and said, “Go live your life.” When I asked if I shouldn’t get “tested” on a yearly basis, he said, no. “If it recurs, more than likely you’ll discover it before I will.” Either way, it’s unsettling. One of the things we must gear up for and get used to. xoxox, Brenda
Funny, I asked the same thing and mine said that the tests wouldn’t show anything, that if it comes back, I’d probably find it on my own. Which is rather unsettling. But, as your oncologist said to you, I’m focusing on living my life. And, congratulations on 12 years, that’s quite a landmark. xo
Your such a terrific person Claudia. I’m waiting on some pretty scary test results right now and I just hope I can face whatever may lie ahead with as much bravery as you’ve shown.
Rena McDaniel recently posted…HOW OLD IS TO OLD FOR ADVENTURE? Traveling With Alzheimer’s
Sending prayers that your tests show good results, Rena xo
I loved my oncologist. She was very straightforward and unapologetic (she left and I now have a new oncologist. When my original oncologist told me that my type of cancer had a high recurrence rate, I tucked that information in the back of my mind and didn’t think about it until just this week when my mammogram came back with “an asymmetry.” I am surprised that your oncologist didn’t ask to see you every year. My treatment ended July, 2015. I had my mammogram this June and was told that from now on I didn’t have to see my oncologist anymore – instead, I would be seeing her nurse practitioner – until the mammogram came back questionably. So, the story goes on! I hope your cancer never returns and I hope my asymmetry was just a blip on the machine!
Hi Theresa – I see my oncologist every 6 months and will for a full 10 years (I’m in my 6th year of Tamoxifen). I hope that the asymmetry is inconsequential and doesn’t mean a recurrence. All my best and hugs to you. Please keep me posted. xo