A fellow Stage IV early mets person sent me this article, which allowed me my first night without a semi-panic attack I've had since being diagnosed. She had a similar experience with DCIS/stage IV, and a similar path with Tam, and the same sense of guilt. But if what the article describes is true, then it seems possible-- probable? that the metastasis may have started way before I ever even had my first mammogram. "The findings “challenge everything we thought we knew about
The few weeks since my diagnosis have felt like the longest, roughest year. Maybe that's a good thing-- maybe time slowing down is just what I want. It's not just the word "terminal" and all that implies; it's hard to describe how every single aspect of life has been hurled upside down. There isn't any part of me or my life that feels real right now. I used to think of my body mostly as a capacity (thank you, Iris Marion Young), but now it's really just about degrees of pain.
I wrote this right before my mastectomy in 2013. It seems so crazy now that I cared at all about my breasts. Because really, if your breasts are trying to kill you, why would you want them clinging to your heart? Lifecycle of a boob “Is your boob going to explode?” My kindergartener looks up at me, waiting for an anwer. That boob did explode, sort of, so it’s not such a crazy question. I had been changing the dressing of an insufficiently stitched biopsy wound when blood that
In 2013, my very first mammogram found DCIS in my right breast-- Ductal Carcinoma in Situ. Not even real cancer, DCIS is considered a vague precancerous condition, and often never turns into cancer at all. I'm the sort of person who labored in childbirth for 66 hours trying to have a vaginal birth after a previous C-section, so I was very resistant to the idea that I would cut off a perfectly good boob-- and, it must be said, a really beautiful boob-- to prevent something tha
I started having pretty severe back pain coming home from ASTR in November, right before the election. Then, on my way to vote, I tripped on the beautifully maintained Roslindale sidewalk, and felt that dreaded tweak of muscle spasm that usually means some vertabrae pulled out of place. Fucking Trump. I did all the things you do for back pain: I went to the chiropractor, I got massages, I did yoga and some pilates. I gobbled down Ibuprofen. Then I went to London to do resear