December 5th, 2024

I’m sitting on a plane, heading to Seattle (for our Leavenworth trip) and all kinds of thoughts are going through my head. For the most part, I feel normalcy. I feel like my old self, physical aspects aside. But occasionally these particular thoughts pop up. My heart skips a beat and some anxiety sets in. The road I still have ahead and all that entails, keeps me from normalcy. And I hate the phrase “new normal”. It’s just going to be different. Different from what I thought was my normal. Up until my cancer diagnosis, each transition in my life has been, big and small, has had an impact on my normal. Some have even spun me off in completely different directions (my divorce, my parents’ passing to name a few). But never did I think it would spin in the direction that it has. This direction is about mortality. How did I get this far in life thinking things like this happened only to other people? It’s been a rude awakening.

2024 has some challenges ahead yet, but none I can’t handle. I’m getting my port removed on the 20th (finally!) and I’m having reconstruction surgery on the 27th. That should be closure, right? It’s not. I will ring in the New Year, have a few weeks to recover from surgery and then come the next step.

The first thing is starting Tamoxifen – which was recommended for the next 5-10 years. I know I’ve discussed this drug in previous posts. I’ve been extremely anxious to take it as it is known for some pretty severe side effects. The drug is meant to block estrogen which is what “fed” my tumor in the first place. The tumor was 99% estrogen hormone-receptor positive. When a woman goes through menopause, essentially her estrogen levels decline significantly, in addition to other things that aid in this change. Tamoxifen will do the same thing so I will start feeling as if I’m going through menopause (which has already started from the chemo – so this will exasperate it).

I’m just going to copy and paste the AI Overview on Google using the search words “side effects of Tamoxifen for breast cancer” and leave that right here:

Tamoxifen, a drug used to treat breast cancer, can cause a number of side effects, including:

• Menopausal symptoms: Hot flashes, night sweats, and vaginal dryness 

• Menstrual changes: Irregular or stopped periods 

• Weight gain or fluid retention: Also known as peripheral edema 

• Mood changes: Depression, mood swings, worry, and difficulty sleeping 

• Skin changes: Rash, increased sweating, and hair loss 

• Other symptoms: Nausea, vomiting, weakness, arthritis, arthralgia, lymphedema, and pharyngitis 

More serious side effects of tamoxifen are rare, but can include:

• Blood clots

• Cancer of the uterus

• Uterine bleeding, hyperplasia, and other tumors

• Eye problems

• Fatty liver disease

See why I’m extremely anxious about it? But what if I don’t get on the drug and the cancer comes back? Will I always wonder if that’s why? So, I feel I need to at least try and give it a chance. But, IF I have some or a lot of these side effects (there’s a 30% chance) and I can’t adjust to them, or my quality of life is suffering (as it has with chemo) I don’t know that I’ll continue. And if the cancer comes back, I can say, at least I tried. I realize I worry about these things prematurely (still working on that). Maybe I will be fine. So, I try to be equally hopefully that maybe I’ll be fine. In most cases, it’s never as bad as you think it will be, right?

In addition to the Tamoxifen, I also need to start bone infusions. Because of the chemo, and the fact that I have osteopenia in my lower back and left leg, I’m at high risk for bone loss, bone breaks and osteoporosis. Listen to this you guys … before I start the bone infusions, I need clearance from my dentist. I will need my dentist to sign off saying I don’t have mouth infections. The reason for this is that there’s a RARE but present risk of Osteonecrosis of the Jaw. The cells in the jaw start to die … necrosis. That’s fucking scary.

Other side effects are bone pain, nausea, vomiting, fever, fatigue, constipation, diarrhea, loss of appetite, teary eyes, heartburn, mouth sores, depression, vaginal discharge, hand-foot syndrome, hair changes and more. My oncologist shared with me that one of his clients had such sever bone pain after the first infusion that she had to crawl on her hands and knees to move around.

It was recommended I have these infusions every 6 months for the next 3 years. I also need to have a physical with bloodwork every 4 months, see a urologist for my kidney issues and return to Endocrinology to address the hypercalcemia and hyperparathyroidism I was diagnosed with 1 year ago.

See why life doesn’t feel normal yet? And it won’t for a long time. This. Is. A. Lot. It’s really scary and I’m not looking forward to any of it. I wish this wasn’t a part of my life. But it is. I need to come to terms with that.

In the meantime, the best I can do is live my life and stay positive, do everything I can for my health and cherish everything have. We’re mortal. These things CAN happen to me. These things aren’t just what happens to other people. But one thing I want everyone to know, and that I need to remind myself daily, is that I am still me. I’m still a woman, a wife to an amazing man, a mom to the greatest kid in the world, a stepmom to 2 amazing kids, a hardworking financial advisor with a passion for helping people, a creative person who loves to craft things and share that love, a caring friend, a loving sister and a good human. I’m also a cancer victim. But that’s on the bottom of the list of things that I am. Thanks again for sharing my journey with me.