Many second anniversaries this summer.
Two years since diagnosis; two years since I was told I would most likely not need chemo; two years since final decision on double mastectomy without reconstruction; two years since Max my dog moved to his new home – that was schlimm but I had invaluable help from my neighbours Sabine and Frank, and I was so glad my brother and sister-in-law were here that week). I am already past those and coming up is the two years after surgery, and a week later final confirmation that all margins were clear and I would not even need radiation.
Another steep learning curve and meeting new friends in similar situations. Many thoughts still going through my head. Why am I so lucky when women much younger than me are not? About trying to live as healthily as possible with the dual purpose of a) avoiding recurrence (which they say is not likely to happen at my age – in other words I will have died of other causes, but as I increasingly see in other examples – cancer is totally unpredictable – positively as well as negatively), and b) mitigating the side effect of the hormone blockers which some call the evil, turbo-aging pill.
Thoughts about the inequality in health care – even between neighbouring countries like Denmark and Germany – from what I hear from women in Denmark, I am definitely in a better position and could not have been in better hands, and that is the sentiment I still feel. Excellent follow-up and support from both gynecologist and GP, and even from my ophthalmologist 😊 who, when I was a bit anaemic post-surgery advised against iron supplements and told me one spoonful of Molasses (who knew?) would have my iron levels back to normal within days. Small detail, but demonstrates an interest.
About being beyond flat and trying to find clothing styles that camouflage the concavities a bit, rather than wearing the highly uncomfortable and impractical, albeit health-insurance-paid prosthetics and wondering why nothing a bit more comfortable has not been invented yet and why we who no longer have breasts but are alive have to suffer further from saving society the costs of complications, implant syndrome etc.
But also about people who I thought were friends who fell totally silent when told about my diagnosis, as in NOT ONE WORD, which I guess might be better than “if there is anything I can do …..” which usually does not mean anything anyway. And not only that, later, even now, I get questions like can I recommend an exhibition, or a restaurant. Just like that. Not even good to see you back on your feet so quickly, for example. As if nothing happened.
I will try to organise all of these thoughts in the following, but I am well aware that I might be repeating myself since much of it is already described in this and subsequent categories: https://www.hellemoller.eu/category/a-bump-in-the-road-summer-2022/.