Hello, friends and family.

I know I've been MIA for quite a while, from an update perspective.
It is hard to explain to anyone who has never been in my position, but I needed to step away from writing these updates for my mental and emotional health.

For awhile, providing these updates was a great way to not only keep friends and family informed about my evolving health issues, as well as serving as a diary, of sorts. It allowed me to not have to field the same questions and give the same answers day in and day out.
I am happy that my husband (gently) pushed me to keep this journal, because it was just as important for me and for those who care about me. I don't know what I would have done without his boundless love, support, and advocacy on my behalf. 
After all the active treatment and surgeries were completed, however, keeping this journal updated became a chore, instead of something I was glad to do. It increasingly became a source of anxiety and dread for me.
Anyone who knows me pretty well might know that in order to post an update (no matter the length), it takes me HOURS of writing, editing, thinking, and rethinking before it makes it to the live journal you all read. It takes me that long to provide an honest and accurate accounting. 
That might seem like a long time, and it is. It is a long time to be plunged into this world of medical jargon, diagnoses, and prognoses. It is a long time to be examining the past, about what events and appointments have happened since the last update. It is mentally taxing to try to remember and account for all the changes since the last set of changes. It is emotionally taxing to remind myself that 'hey, you haven't had to think about cancer in-depth for a while, let's dive back in!'

Again, I don't really expect this to necessarily make sense to anyone who has never had a major, ongoing medical issue, but maybe some of you have and understand what it all costs.

That all being said, I think I am as prepared as I can be to do an update today.

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As is tradition, I will start with my hair.

The growth slowed down the past half year or so, but that is something I expected, and it's fine. I realized at some point that I don't want to wear my hair long, so I'm happy there's enough for (a) a ponytail, and (b) to keep my neck warmer during this FRIGID winter we are having here in middle Tennessee. I feel truly fortunate that - although my hair isn't as thick as it was pre-cancer - my hair grew back pretty well.
I finally grew tired of the odd mullet-y style my hair had grown into, so I grabbed scissors and cut off just the longest 3 inches or so from the very back. That part was not curly anymore, so the extra length in comparison to the rest of my hair was more pronounced. It looks so much better. At some point I will cut all the curls off, because even though they are pretty, they are a constant visual reminder of cancer. I'm not there just yet...need a little more length on my hair first.

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Medically speaking, things have been in a fairly stable holding pattern over the past half year.
I can't remember if I posted about this or not (which probably means no), but back at the end of July, my oncologist put me on a prescription course of Vitamin D3. After discussing my lack of energy and stamina, we decided I would go back on daily B12, and (to be sure I needed it and wouldn't overdo) he tested my D levels. I can't remember the exact range, but the bottom normal value was 30 I think, and mine tested at 19. So, it was time to supplement and get it back to a normal range. 
Although D2 is more readily absorbed by the body, it is hard to get in the large doses used therapeutically when trying to correct a deficiency. Therefore, I was prescribed D3 instead.
I took some ridiculous amount, one pill every week, for about 5 months. I just finished my last dose in the last month, so we will retest at my next appointment and see where I am.
As far as how I feel since supplementing, I think both vitamins helped some with my energy levels. My stamina is still poor, but I will take any improvements as a win. I have started (very, very slowly) adding in some small exercise routines where possible, so I think that should help over time, as well, with stamina and energy.

Back in April of 2023, I had a CT scan (ab/chest/pelvis), and that came back with no new suspicious findings. The only new thing was that I have developed radiation-induced fibrosis in the lung area (I can't remember if it was inside the lung or just near it). The doctor and I agreed to monitor it for any further changes, in about six months. So, I am scheduled to have another CT scan next month, a few days before my next oncology appointment. We are checking to see if the fibrosis has stayed steady or has changed. It is worth mentioning that this type of fibrosis is not the type that comes from lung disease (which can have a poor prognosis). It is just from radiation, and can show up as a late after effect (meaning, doesn't show up right away, can be years after radiation sometimes). Since it can sometimes cause issues, we are just going to keep an eye on it. I look forward to having the scan, because although scans are more exposure to radiation (bad), I feel better knowing what my insides have been up to.

I saw my reconstructive plastic surgeon at the beginning of November, for my now-annual checkup. He made sure I hadn't had any issues with the implants, and that my post-radiation skin changes have settled down. Both are the case thankfully. Although I have some issues getting and staying comfortable at night (its own special kind of fun), I've grown used to the way it feels to maneuver around the implants, and it is okay. Not great, but good enough.
Anyway, the doctor seemed pleased with how everything is looking, and that my scars look good for their age. He noted that not everyone gets as good a result as I have, when it comes to implants after radiation treatments. I am also pleased. I mean, if I can't have my own breasts (which tried to kill me), these will do (bonus, they are not trying to kill me).

I saw my breast surgeon yesterday, for a six-month check up. She did my mastectomy, pathological staging of the cancer, and prepared me for my active treatment battle. She did a physical checkup on the entire chest / underarm lymph node area, to check for any evidence of local recurrences (little lumps, bumps, etc that could spell trouble). She found nothing, which is great. She also pointed out that I am halfway to a  big milestone for local recurrence, which is the five-year mark. She remarked that most local recurrences happen within five years of diagnosis, so it's great that I have made it a little over 2 1/2 years into that goal without any signs of that happening. 
We discussed the difference between that statistic, and the longer-term risk of distant metastasis (cancer found in other parts of the body). That risk, unfortunately, stays pretty constant until about 30 years after the initial diagnosis (yes, you read that correctly...THIRTY years). She was quick to mention, though, that usually with distant spread of breast cancer, it is normally to the bones, and that that is pretty easy to treat/manage. So, although the war will be lifelong, and I will forever need to be vigilant with checkups, I feel good knowing that every day new drugs are being formulated, and better treatments are being explored, so that when I die, it's NOT going to be from cancer.

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I have, as I alluded to in my introductory comments, had some struggles mentally and emotionally the last several months. Without going into the nitty gritty - which I am not comfortable doing, so I won't - life has been somewhat interesting the past several months.
I know we all have our struggles, where what's going on in our minds tries to bring us to our knees. I think what has been so challenging for me is that it's been so persistent, yet erratic. I can have most of a day be quite good, but then something changes and I feel like absolute dirt. I'm sure the fact that - in order to NOT  die from cancer - I've had most of my hormones evicted from my body does not help in any way. It's funny that as a woman (and maybe men go through this too, in a fashion), I spent decades wishing the hormones would just settle down and NOT control everything so strongly. Then, when they do go away, I'm like, 'come back, I didn't mean it! Can't we just get along?'
Anyway, after going in and out of the darkness, I feel like there is more light now. That's not to say I feel like everything is all worked out and great, but I can feel a slight shift. Maybe it is that I have had some perception change, and the filter is different somehow. I don't have to understand it completely, it just important that I try to bring some awareness to how I feel.
I have also learned - my husband has reminded me several times lately - that maybe counting to ten before opening my mouth to speak isn't such a bad idea. 
(Good moment to stop and thank my unfailingly tolerant husband, Tom, for sticking with me. So, thank you, my love...I can never thank you enough for giving me as many chances as I require to get things right.)

I can either be my own worst enemy, or my greatest friend. It is up to me.

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I could probably think of more to say, but I'm going to call it, because I'm getting a bit worn down by the process. Also, this brutally cold winter weather has the heater running nonstop, so this dry air is making my nasal situation less than comfortable. I'm running two diffusers at the moment, hoping some of those good oils will settle things down in my face.

To all of you who have dropped in to read my update, know that I still appreciate you all. The rallying and support of my little community of people has been a major reason I'm still here and in relatively good shape. I send all of you WARM wishes for the rest of this winter, and my love. Tom and I both are grateful to have you in our lives.

<3