It’s been too long since I posted but since that’s due to the fact that I’ve been back to living life, I won’t berate myself too harshly.
It’s hard to believe that 10 months ago we were merrily tripping our way through life without a clue that cancer was breeding in my belly. Or that only 9 months ago I was busy telling Hale who should have what piece of jewellery once I was gone. That month of going from clueless to a stage 4 pre-diagnosis was a whirlwind but I think we are slowly recovering from it. (My oncology therapist thinks I have PTSD and sometimes I agree. Just mention that someone has cancer and I have tears running down my face whether I know that person or not.)
I’m so happy to be able to write that the six months between the last post (3 months Post Op) and now have been progressively positive – physically, mentally and emotionally.
A Heart Scare and then a Trifecta of Good Results
March was back to the Portland area for doctors’ investigations and the unfortunate discovery via a CT scan of fluid around my heart. It could be caused by cancer or it could be something else or it could be nothing (sound familiar?)
This led to further investigations with no real answers on cause, but during an echocardiogram, a reassuring cardiologist said that my heart was healthy and the fluid was not enough to cause problems. While this was reassuring, it didn’t answer the underlying question of what was causing it?
He also took careful measurements of my enlarged aorta which had first showed up on a previous scan so that they can monitor this for changes. (At present time, it is abnormally large, but not to a point of concern.) I try to remind myself that if I weren’t undergoing all these tests and scans, I wouldn’t know about all these things. I’ll have a regular echo scan done yearly now to monitor both the fluid and the (unrelated) aorta.
For most of March, we enjoyed a housesit with a sweet little old pup in a great leafy suburb of Portland where the first spring blossoms brought brightness and fragrances signalling the end of winter. Hale found some docks and kept progressing on his foil skills and I proved to myself that I could still do Pilates post-surgery.
Although it will sound strange that I call this out, I also for the first time told a new acquaintance that I have cancer when I told our housesit host why we were back in the area. Suddenly it became easy and I was comfortable telling Pilates instructors, friends with whom I hadn’t spoken in a while, and random people on the street (just kidding on the last bit.)
And finally some solidly good news started to emerge from my medical team. My tumor markers were in normal range for the first time. The ascites was still present in my abdomen, but not increasing.
Best of all, I had a clear GI report after a triple whammy day of Colonoscopy, Endoscopy and Endoscopic UltraSound. I don’t have GI cancer! It’s becoming clear that not only can we trust the diagnosis of ovarian cancer, but also that the miraculous Dr.S really did get it all out. Admittedly, I could not fully absorb this at the time and first needed to see another few sets of good results, but this was definitely a turning point.
On the move again
As the doctors reports turned better and better, we headed to Bend in Central Oregon for a two week April housesit. I’ve always wanted to spend more time exploring this high desert part of the PNW, and it was still within striking distance of my doctor should I need her.
At the end of April we swung by Portland to see Dr S on our way north and soon we were up in the mainland coast by the San Juan Islands. Can you imagine a surgical oncologist who tells you to call when you are driving through and she will try to fit you in between surgeries? When I say I won the lottery with her, it’s true. She treats me as a whole person and wants me not just healthy, but living life to the fullest.
More good test results from this visit brought additional reassurance that we were getting on the right track and I began to shift my mindset from dread that the cancer was still hiding and growing within me to dread that it will reoccur, which is particularly dangerous with the sub-type I have. All the more reason to make the most of every day.
In Ancacortes, with warmer weather, so many trails and much better water conditions for Hale, plus a quick trip to see family in the Midwest for me, our time at the best cat sit ever flew by and soon we were finishing out May with two weeks in Vancouver BC. Gradually we spent a smaller and smaller portion of our minutes thinking about cancer.
Although all this slow travel was intermixed with visits to Portland for doctor stuff, I am very glad we didn’t just sit still waiting for appointments. I know other cancer patients have to sit still waiting for the next exams, tests and results, but being able to distract myself with travel certainly helped me cope. (I wrote a whole post on the benefits of being financially independent and location independent if you are interested in reading my thoughts on that aspect of this year.) I needed distractions and needed to feel like I could plan, even if it was only for one month at a time.
Back in the other Vancouver (WA) at my June appointment, I broached the subject of international travel with my oncologist. We discussed how to self-monitor daily, what parts of the world with what types of medical systems and English language proficiency were okay for me for now, and that I needed to be ready to jump on a plane to return if I found anything abnormal. With this all in place, she cleared me to travel internationally between my three month visits.
This was a huge step forward! I’m free – not as free as a year ago, but a lot freer than I was six months ago. I’ll take it! Cancer is never far from my mind and may pop up again anytime, but being able to get back to planning adventures is a perfect way to combat that reality.
Gratitude for my good fortune
This is a good time for me to yet again sing my doctor’s praises. My good fortune in being paired with Dr S never ceases to amaze. Endlessly competent, smart as a whip (yet open to admitting how much is unknowable with cancer), dedicated beyond belief, and unbelievably invested not only in my physical health but also in my life – I could not have drawn a better gynae onc surgeon from scratch if I had tried. She saved my life in surgery and now shows true interest in my mental health and in getting me back to the things I love. She embraces my lifestyle of travel and is going to do all she can to enable it.
Sometimes my appointments with her feel like a free therapy session tossed in with the physical exam. She is helping me grow my confidence that even though I was stupid enough to dismiss a football sized tumor quite obviously growing in my abdomen, I won’t miss the next one. She assures me that no one ever misses it the second time and the greater risk is over hyper vigilance. The key, she tells me, is finding the happy medium. And because I can’t do that on my own, she welcomes my calls from overseas – even if it’s just to tell me that ‘no, a hangnail is not a sign of cancer.’
With her support and guidance, I decided I was ready to not only go but also to go by myself. Sure, would it be horrifying to feel something strange in a daily scan when I was so far from Hale? Yes, but the world is pretty small with jet travel and I felt confident that I could make it back on my own without breaking down. In fact, I needed to show myself that I am brave enough to risk it. I also want to embrace all of life’s opportunities and not squander precious time.
Back out into the big beautiful world
By the end of June, I took off south (way south!) to escape the heat.
I spent 2.5 months in Tasmania where I had a great time hiking every day in a stunningly diverse set of landscapes via a plethora of walking tracks.
It was also great fun to reacquaint myself with solo travel – the pleasure of doing whatever I wanted (and needing to carry my own water – literally and figuratively) paired with missing sharing the adventure with Hale.
I was conscious of my body and had a few “oh shit, what’s that? Is that cancer?” moments, but I didn’t dwell on it and was delighted to instead fill my mind with seeing new places, smelling new smells and hearing new birds. I took comfort in knowing that a full set of scans, tests and exams were awaiting me when I returned.
Meanwhile back in the Gorge, Hale had a fabulous summer of wing foiling in the hot summer sun and a well-deserved break from doctor’s appointments.
So that’s where we are 9 months post-surgery. My body is happy, our emotions are strengthening and our minds are starting to believe we can look ahead. We’re fully aware that we’re not out of the woods yet, but for the moment, we are appreciating life.