Fully functional adulting.

Weeks 15 & 16 A.D.

These were milestone weeks for me. I’m officially two weeks into my active medical treatment and also two weeks out from returning to work. While I’m grateful to not have to do chemo, I was dreading March 1–my first day on a chemically-induced menopause hormone treatment, Tamoxifen.

I put off getting my prescription picked up from the pharmacy because it helped me avoid thinking about the start of medical treatment beginning. I had been incredibly nervous about the side effects I kept hearing about in my breast cancer groups on social media. I have trust issues with my body as of late (given you know, cancer and all) so I fully expected my body to have a fit about it. But I am doing my best to not burrow into anxiety rabbit holes.

My intentional avoidance got so good that I forgot to ask Zach to pick up my prescription on Saturday until it was too late and the pharmacy had closed for the night. I wanted to take my first pill as soon as woke up on Sunday. The women in my groups argue as to whether it’s better to take the pill in the morning versus in the evening. I didn’t know for sure when side effects typical start but I figured if I wanted to be aware of any, I should probably be awake. Plus I don’t want to screw up my sleep.

Sunday morning came and because Zach had to take Emma to the other side of town for softball, my new driver, Jillian, ran out for me. I took my first Tamoxifen pill around 2pm, with lunch. I’ve heard it’s best to take with food and I wanted to follow any suggestions that might unburden my body in any way. Swallowing that first pill was scary, really scary, and also it was reassuring. I am terrified that this cancer might decide it doesn’t want to go away without a fight. While potential side effects could hit me like a ton of bricks, I’m more interested in beating this cancer’s face with a ton of bricks. So thus begins my five-year battle to starve off any of my cancer’s remnants that could still be in my body.

To prepare myself for any litany of potential super-menopause experiences that I may need to report back to my Oncologist, I wanted to document my periods and side effects. I decided to use a cute pocket sized calendar I received in a care package from a friend (and breast cancer survivor) who co-authored the book Latinas Rising with me a couple years ago. She founded an amazing organization, One Tough Cookie, that helps to create moments where cancer doesn’t exist and brings hope and joy to people going through their journey.

As the first week of Tamoxifen went on, I’m happy to report…very little. Knock on wood. I know it’s still early yet, but so far I have some uterine cramping. Nothing my Warmie plush popped in the microwave for 90 seconds can’t handle. My uterus feels slightly heavy, like the feeling you can get sometimes right before your period starts. While it’s nothing that’s making me super uncomfortable, I’m diligently taking notes because this medicine can cause thickening of uterine walls, fibroid development or even uterine cancer. So I’m not going to fuck around and find out, I’m staying on top of this. Last thing I want is a hysterectomy too.

I’m also experiencing some tiredness. Nothing at all like when I was first diagnosed hypothyroid. That was ridiculous—I couldn’t make it through a day of high school without sleeping in most classes, coming home and going to bed and sleeping through dinner. No, I’m just getting yawn-y in the afternoon and super ready for bed come 9pm, which is NOT like me.

The only other things I’ve noticed is some soreness in my knees when getting off the floor from doing my 3-a-day stretches and a head rush about every time I get up from sitting or lying down. I looked up the head rush thing and Tamoxifen can cause anemia and can also relax blood vessels, either of which could be the culprit.

Other than that, I’ve physically been feeling better with each day. I hit one little snag in my left arm. Freaking cording! Typically it happens in the arm where lymph nodes are removed, but mine showed up on the opposite side. Basically, my left arm pit looks a little like a flying squirrel’s. Ok, maybe not that bad, but the cording, or axillary web syndrome, runs from my arm pit down to my forearm. It’s a pulling sort of pain that’s restricting my shoulder movement—and it looks like there’s a newly formed ligament popping out from under the skin and pulling skin inward as it stretches down the arm. It’s not a ligament but rather inflammation and scarring of the lymphatic vessel due to surgical trauma. I’m going to be honest, I had no idea we have lymphatic vessels that run through your body like arteries. I knew about the lymph nodes, but I never took human anatomy class. Only thing I can do to get rid of it is stretch through the pain, use warm compress, massage it, and hope it goes away.

I began driving a week ago. I’m still using a fluffy seatbelt pillow to soften the belt across my chest but have downgraded the size of the pillow I’m using. My first drive was taking Emma to Confirmation sponsor night, followed by taking Zander to school the next morning. By Saturday, I decided to brave it to Jillian’s lacrosse jamboree (first games of the fall school season). She had four short scrimmages clear out in Overland Park. The 50-minute highway drive wasn’t bad, what I underestimated was the energy it took to haul my bleacher seat and two heavy blankets. Thank God for the amazing parents of her teammates, who helped me carry everything when they realized, along with me, that I was probably carrying items over my ten pound weight limit. Our drive searching for lunch made me realize how much strain in-town driving has on my pectoral muscles and arm pits. It did me in. By the end of the day (which was great for Jillian, 3-1) I was too pooped to drive home but Jillian was more than willing to get some interstate driving practice.

Week sixteen was also week six of my recovery period—my last week on FMLA leave from work. I gave myself a goal to use my remaining recovery time off wisely and productively, in ways that make me feel good…since I was feeling good. I finally got my nails done again after having to go bare for surgery. One would think it to be unnecessary or for vanity, but I’m telling you, hypothyroidism makes my nails so brittle and there’s few things worse than low nail bed breaks and tears or nails bending backward. This was a necessary gel dip manicure and no one can convince me otherwise.

I took lunch to Zander at school on Wednesday and ate with him. I love seeing his excitement when he sees me walk in with his fast food kids meal as if I’m the hero of the day. All the kids around him checking out what he gets to eat and if there’s soda too. I might be biased but my kiddo is pretty cute, silly and smart too.

Then my last day of recovery came. I saved the best activities for last. Back in the fall I won a Diamond Glow facial in a silent auction at the girls’ high school homecoming game. I wanted to save it for a special occasion and couldn’t think of a better occasion—the eve of my return to fully functional adulthood after major breast cancer surgery. It was as fantastic as I had hoped. Heated bed, hot towels, facial massage. I skipped the collarbone and upper chest component because…well, obviously. But that 90-minutes of relaxation—minus some of the slight burning sensations—was glorious. I felt like I glowed as I walked out of the spa.

The last stop on my recovery time off required me picking up my husband, Zach. Remember when I said I really wanted to do something special for him for Valentine’s Day after everything he did for me during my recovery? Well, one thing he has said he wanted to do ever since we got married was have his wedding ring tattooed on. He hates wearing jewelry and so for the last seventeen years he has lived his life ringless and looking like a bachelor. I figured after seventeen years of marriage and twenty six years together and enough for better or worse experiences to last us a few lifetimes, I ought to finally get it done for him. I surprised him by getting a ring tattooed on me too! I’ve always been too scared to get a tattoo but after this experience I’ve just overcome, I knew this pain would be trivial in comparison.

Zach had already picked out three designs that he liked and let me choose the final design, a wraparound branch. To me, it represents strength in our marriage and the strength he gives me. I chose an imperfect heart for my ring finger, because I’m certainly not perfect but I will always love him madly.

It may be a wrap on my six-week FMLA leave for recovery, but it’s not the end of my breast cancer journey. However, I’m so glad to have so much of that hard stuff behind me. It’s wild to imagine the state I was in on day one after surgery compared to now. I don’t know what my future will look like, but like my therapist says: “let’s focus on the good and what could go right”. I may not be 100% back to normal, but that’s ok, this might be my new normal. I’ll get used to it. I’m used to having to be resilient. I’m just happy to be a fully functioning adult again.