A Tale of Two Cities

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair."

I read Dicken's "A Tale of Two Cities" in high school English, grade 10 or 11, I think.  Few things from high school classes stuck with me as much as memorizing certain required quotes from English class.  I don't know why that is but it is.  The quote above describes my life right now - getting a cancer diagnosis is really the worst of times, but learning who will be there for you, finding your own strength and resources, healing through the process in all aspects, well, that has been the best of times as well.  In the past few weeks, I've learned so much (wisdom) about radiation and endocrine therapy, but also (foolishness) the many frustrating delays in treatment and hiccups in the health system for Faith.  Its hard to believe that in a matter of months, my active treatment will be done, but also incredible to believe that I'll need to take daily medication for the next 5 years to stop my cancer from coming back.  And of course, all of this is happening during the holiday season - the season of light(s) and holiday gatherings, a time when it can feel really lonely even in a crowded room (despair).  I hope you can see why this quote speaks to me so much right now...even if it isn't a song quote!

During the past few weeks. I've had a number of appointments to discuss my progress and next steps.  My surgeon was happy with her work (lol) and my healing and gave me clearance to return to all activities while I continue to heal.  The scar looks pretty good (according to my surgeon) and she handed me over to medical and radiation oncology for the next few stops on the cancer journey.  I had an appointment with Dr McGee in medical oncology earlier this week to discuss endocrine therapy.  Even though I have a really good 10 year prognosis with surgery alone, the recommendation, to reduce the risk of reoccurance, is both radiation and 5 years of endocrine therapy.  With her lovely Dublin accent, we discussed the pros and cons of the 2 choices that I have:  Tamoxifen or Aromatase Inhibitors.  Both have side effects that I'd like to avoid, but I chose to start with what I hope to be the lesser of 2 evils for me - Tamoxifen.  I am expecting a return of amped-up menopause symptoms, without the benefit of hormone replacement therapy to smooth things out for me.  I agreed to give this a try and balance the impacts to my quality of life with the known (though small, in my case) reduction in reoccurance rate.  

I've also decided to do the 15 day course of radiation. I know that this will be a grind, getting to and from the General every day for a 15 minute appointment, but I'm hoping to get some volunteer drivers to come with me (and wait in the car if the parking lot is full - which is very likely to happen).  This would also help reduce the burden on Shawn. The radiation planning CT is on January 3 and my first date with the radiation machine is Friday, January 17.  Shawn will come with me to that one, but if you'd like to join me for a round-trip to the Cancer centre at OGH January 20-24, January 27 - 31 or February 3-6, let me know...I'll pay for parking and coffee (or another beverage).

Speaking of beverages, I've had a hard time adjusting to the information that alcohol is NOT recommended to be part of my life as a breast cancer survivor.  Especially while on Tamoxifen.  I love my wine.  And many types of beer.  I can't imagine giving it up completely, but I've been working hard to reduce my alcohol intake.  It's been hard because so much of our social lives revolves around socializing with alcohol.  So, if you see me with a giant glass of water or thermos of tea, when normally I'd have a glass of wine or a mug of beer, that's why. 

Because this is "a tale of two cities", here's the update from Sudbury: Faith has finally received a call for a radiation consult in January - we are hoping she can have this done in February or March.  While I still can't believe we are going through this at the same time, it gives me hope that we will both be done our treatments around the same time, in a few months from now.  Faith has also had a call from an endocrinologist in Sudbury, who immediately adjusted her medication, ordered a CT and ultrasound, and set up another appointment and blood test.  It feels like this is the first doctor she's had that is taking her cancer diagnosis for what it is - A CANCER DIAGNOSIS.  The doctor was incensed that everything has taken so long for Faith and it is the first time that Faith has felt really seen or heard, and it was only a 10 minute virtual appointment.  So that says a lot about our fractured health system and also the way thyroid cancer is treated so differently than other cancers.

I'll end on a positive note though - things are all pointing in the right direction for both me and Faith.  I am truly grateful for the care and concern I've received from my doctors and from many of you.  While my progesterone-deprived body is having a hard time staying asleep at night, I am hopeful for all that 2025 will bring, once I get through the first few months of radiation and its side effects.  I received a text today from a friend of mine from work, another cancer-connection as well, who said: "I know how hard this time of year can be with everyone wishing a Happy New Year and you're facing treatment in the New Year. So I"m wishing you Bon Courage and all the best."  

That's what I'm going to try to go into 2025 with - courage, bravery, optimism, honesty, humility, strength and love for all of you reading this.   

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."