Officially Five Years Cancer Free

Tomorrow is kinda a big day for me, so I want to get this episode out early. 

Tomorrow afternoon I am going to see a retina specialist. Seems that something is amiss over in the left eye. This is not a surprise; this is the eye that had the big giant basal cell carcinoma back in December of 2000. It was a bit of a mess because I ignored that "thing" on my eyelid for way too long, and when the wonderful Dr. Quist went to remove it, it wasn't the little no-brainer surgery we expected, he ended up having to make a new bottom eyelid out of skin from behind my left ear. Don't ask. For New Year's Eve, Ziggy made me a wonderful eyepatch with gorgeous, sparkly, golden eyelashes. I was so glamorous. But right now, there may be a small tear in the retina, so instead of waiting for some cataclysmic event, I'm getting it handled now, so in January, my cataracts can be removed. Yeah, I'm old. What can I say?

Tomorrow night, however, is exceptionally exciting: I will take my very last (G-d willing) anastrozole tablet, and will become officially 5-years free of breast cancer. 

This is a very big deal. At my annual, routine mammogram in August of 2015 (thank you, Cousin Laurie for making me go to these,) the radiologist caught sight of what looked to be a teeny-tiny tumor, and that teeny-tiny tumor turned out to be stage one/grade one malignant hormone receptor-positive breast cancer. 

There were two back-to-back surgeries for me, the issue was handled, I came out looking better than I ever had in my life, and because I was confirmed to be BRCA-negative, I only needed radiation. The pills from hell started in December with letrozole. Ultimately, my wonderful oncologist, Dr. Michaela Tsai of Minnesota Oncology, took pity on my side-effects and switched me to anastrozole....which had its own equally horrendous set of side effects, but far more tolerable for me than the letrozole. 

See, Dr. Tsai is a BRCA gene carrier. She's been down the road and has a lot to say about it. And she chose to beautify her body rather than be ashamed of the scars. She was featured in the Chicago Tribune, TRANSFORMING SCARS INTO ART. Take a look. That's my oncologist. She had made this journey as easy as possible, and I am forever grateful.

For those of you who are curious, I did write about the cancer when it happened: 

Knock, Knock. Who's there? Cancer.

I am very aware that I escaped easily. I did not need chemo, I did not lose my hair, but my nails have been awful for 5 years. Big deal. The hot flashes, the weight gain, the inability to tolerate greasy anything...these are narishkeit compared to what it might have been. But the reality remains that I am a breast cancer survivor and that breast cancer, even with my BRCA negative tests, can come back. I will always have oncology check-ups. I will always have annual mammograms. I will always worry when I do my monthly self-exam that I might miss a teeny, tiny tumor. That teeny, tiny fear will always be in the back of my mind. And if something shows up, I will have Michaela Tsai to see me through it. No complaints there.

And if all this is not enough, my Hanukkah present to myself arrived this morning from Paris, France. 

I saw a report that the pandemic was hitting Shakespeare and Company hard, and that wonderful bookstore was in dire straits. They asked people to order things from the store.

I had visited the store during my brief stop in Paris in 1969. I was enchanted. I met Anaïs Nin when I was in college, and told her that I had been to the shop. She smiled and said, "When you are a writer, you will go back to drink in the words and the air. You must."

The two books I wanted to order were out of stock, so I treated myself to a mug and a European shopping bag...the kind I need in Israel. I will order the books later.

I have a lot to be thankful for right now. And you can be equally thankful I am keeping this short. May all the celebrations at this darkest time of year bring a little light into our homes and hearts.

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week

Sometimes, the little things turn out to be the really big things.

That may or may not be okay,

just don't be afraid to ask for help.