Life Goes On….

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Photo by Jonatan Pie on Unsplash

I am back. This was a busy week again, as I sorted my late husband’s clothes and donated them to the Salvation Army. I didn’t cry.

The clothing will, I hope, go to those who need it. Warm shirts, pants and even socks.

There is always something to do, it seems while handling the estate. We were not wealthy by any means, but there is a lot of paperwork and phone calls to be made, in order to change names on accounts and that sort of thing.

My son and his wife, my sister-in-law, my sister, and even the financial consultant’s office admin have been supportive. I couldn’t ask for more.

If you take anything away from this, it is to always Be Prepared. Have a will in place, have a power of attorney and have a Personal Directive, all up to date. It may cost something to have these done, but believe me, it makes things so much easier for those left behind.

 

 

 

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I Hope I Won’t See You Again!

The shoulder xrays were okay. In fact, the family doctor said I have a very good shoulder compared to many my age. (I am 63). It feels better and is getting better all the time. So not cancer. Whew!

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Yesterday I had a one o’clock appointment with my oncologist. We were told to arrive 20 minutes early, because of the lack of parking. A new cancer center is being built on the land next to the existing building, in the place of the parking lot. We had to park a long way from the cancer center doors.

It is winter and the walk was a bit chilly. Arrived early, of course, and since we are moving next month, I decided to change my address with the center. That killed a few minutes, as it meant an elevator ride back up to the main reception area and then back down again.

We waited to about a half hour past the appointment time. The nurse called me at last. As always, she checked my weight and took my blood pressure and heart rate measurements. Then she left, with a cheery “The doctor will be with you shortly.”

Waited. Waited some more. At last, at two o’clock the same nurse popped her head in to say that the doctor had got involved in a serious discussion, and would be in soon. She apologized and closed the door. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen.

Finally, the oncologist came in. She said that my August mammogram was fine and that she would turn me over to my family doctor from now on. She asked if I had any questions. I did not. I couldn’t think of anything.

Then she shook my hand, and said, “I hope that I don’t see you again!” And she laughed. So did I.

That done, she left the room and I put on my hat and coat and gloves and we left the building.

What a nice Christmas present.

I will continue to receive my anastrozole (Armidex) from the cancer center pharmacy, at no charge. It will be my family doctor who prescribes it rather than the oncologist.

I will have annual mammograms, so the next one will be in August 2017.

I can concentrate on the holidays, and on getting moved to our new home in January.

I suppose I can say that my journey through breast cancer is done. It is over. A tiny voice whispers in my ear, “For a while. Don’t be too hopeful.” I will ignore that voice. It is time to celebrate love and life and laughter.  And good health.

I have read over my posts since the cancer was first discovered. I think that cancer has changed me, and that it changes everyone it touches. In my case, I believe that I have come to maturity, not just in years, but in my attitude toward life. It is important for me to do things rather than have feelings of fear or regret.

I have hobbies and interests that keep my mind active. I am lucky to have a supportive family. I wish that for all of my readers as well.

For those of you who have been diagnosed HER2, I say that there is hope. Don’t give in to the little voice that says, “You are going to die!”

Be strong and you can get through this.