My oncologist is so pleased every time I get a good tumour marker reading. She always tells me well done, although I honestly feel like I’ve done nothing.
I just lay there. Everyone else did everything. Well I did try not to crumble to pieces putting on a fake facade.
It’s all down to luck, chemo and radiation (although very harsh), her compassionate treatment and most of all, loads of love from my family members for which I am forever grateful. They honestly gave me a strong reason to live. I believe the mental strength my medical team and family gave me helped more than anything.
I was absolutely tickled at my last visit when I asked my oncologist truly what she thought of my prognosis and she said she didn’t have much hope when I had a recurrence a year after my first diagnosis. I found it hilarious. Finally she felt confident enough to state it point blank.
I’m so glad she was honest because during my treatment I know that she hesitated to tell me the worst. Patients always want to know everything. We can take it. It’s better than suspecting. It gives us back the control we have lost.
Something I already knew as statistics showed I had a 58% chance to survive the next 5 years and that dropped to 17% with the recurrence.
Many cancer folks like me love the dark humour of it all, because it just seems so taboo for those who don’t have it. Humour is the best stress reliever and coping mechanism by far and especially in a support group of like minded ladies around the world. Not only those with endometrial cancer but other cancers as well. It feels like we are all in it together and happy for the good results of our friends. Also devastated when we loose anyone in the group and have survivors’ guilt.
Aside from the guilt, beating the odds feels truly incredible. Miraculous even. Is this what they call radical remission? But usually radical remission term is reserved for those who do alternative treatments and I didn’t go that route as it is statistically highly risky.
I have been actively avoiding the annual full body CT Scan due to covid and the hospital situation being risky and yes also that fear. That ever present fear no matter how cocky I may sound with my fellow cancer folks. We have all the same fears.
There is a term – scanxiety. Often I want to be an ostrich with my head in the sand but soon I’ll have to go for the test that my oncologist had already booked sensing my reluctance. Well I guess only then will I feel the shackles truly loosen.