It's been a year since I started my chemotherapy for stage 4 breast cancer, today. 12 months. At least I'm here to say that. I'm able to say my med team works very hard and looks at all possibilities for my treatment. My kids don't fully understand but they know mama is trying to be here for them.
Soon, I'll find out if I get a slightly longer break from treatment or if we're starting right back up again. I've still got a few friends that the longevity of my diagnosis hasn't chased off. They understand this isn't a one month, one year, one decade thing... I hope I get a decade or six.
I think that's one of the most annoying things (other than the cancer/treatment itself). Trying to explain to people that this is a lifetime thing, like my back/shoulder injury. I'm not being negative in saying that, and telling me I'll beat this isn't a positive response. I am thriving. I am living. I'm not curling up in a ball and stopping my life. I am giving cancer a middle finger and doing my best to have a life. And I have many reasons to: my husband, my kids, my friends both alive and gone, and especially because of a promise to one friend. He's gone but he was so scared when he heard of both my diagnoses. He knew what it was like growing up without his mother and it hit him in a different way than other friends. I promised him I'd stick around. I just wish he was he to see me keep it.
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