The truth about 5 years

 
  I cannot wrap my around the fact that this month I will hit the five year mark of having been diagnosed with stage III breast cancer. FIVE years!

  I still remember that day in March in 2011 like it was yesterday. I remember seeing a surgeon at 12:00 in the afternoon and being told whatever it was that I was feeling in my chest was nothing. He told me because the ultrasound tech did a bad job on the ultrasound, he was sending me back for a mammogram, just because. I had no family history, I was 31 and healthy. He just wanted to prove a point. After getting the mammogram a lady asked me to please return to Dr. P's office, there I sat in an exam room with my friend Stephanie (Ryan went back to work because we were told this was nothing). I asked Steph to grab the mammogram report off the door so I could see it. All I saw was "CATEGORY 5. HIGHLY SUSPICIOUS OF MALIGNANCY", that's all she wrote. I went numb. I heard him say the words "this is cancer", I just stared straight ahead and all I could manage to say was "Gabrielle and Cole. I cannot die". I remember staring at my phone and not having a single clue as how to use it. I eventually managed to text Ryan "I have cancer". That's all it said, he called me, I couldn't answer. I walked out of the surgeons office that day and into his waiting room where Ryan was coming through the door, I collapsed in his arms and just kept saying "Gabby and Cole, please don't let me die. Why is this happening". Everything from that moment on moved super quick, I went from finding out I had to cancer to starting chemo in a weeks time. God, I remember that first chemo treatment, the nerves, the tears, the uncertainty. Waking up the next day feeling like I was very hungover and feeling like I had the worst flu of my life. I remember the collapsed lung, the chest tube placement, the sleepless nights. I think I cried every night after the kids went to bed for a good year. I remember one day, about 3 chemo treatments in, asking Ryan to come in our bedroom. I asked him to sit on the bed with me and I lost it (more than the usual lost it) I told him I couldn't do this anymore. I was not strong enough, I couldn't take being this sick. I didn't want to have to fight to live. I didn't want to cry every single time I looked at my kids, I didn't understand why this was happening and I just wanted it over. All he did was tell me to think of how those words will affect Gabby and Cole. They were 3 and 4. They needed their Mommy, he needed me. After that day with Ryan, I got angry. Angry because he was right, I was not going to let someone else dance with Cole at his wedding, I was not going to let someone else help Gabby pick out her wedding dress. Anger is what got me through the rest of the treatments. I wasn't going to write a blog post about five years, partly because I am superstitious that since I haven't hit five years talking about it is bad luck. Partly because I thought I was over it. Well, if anyone read this blog, they may recall a post back in 2011 when my therapist (who was also a big reason I was able to continue and fight) he had me write "goodbye letters" to Ryan, Gabby, and Cole. Well, looking through my hope chest the other night, I found them. I wasn't going to open them, I was actually going to just throw them away. However, I did in fact read them.

  I can't help but be stuck in my own head this month. I know the reality that five years is just a number, I know that cancer can return at any point. I know I will forever live with this mental game. I also know that for anyone who has heard those dreaded words "this is cancer". Whether it be you personally, a spouse, a child, a friend, a parent, a sibling, anyone close to you, five years is a significant achievement. It means the chances of it actually coming back are a lot lower, it means you made it to the mental finish line. I cannot wait for March 24, 2016 when I can say it's been officially 5 years. Until that time though, I am having a rough go around. I am worrying about little thing I feel, I am worrying about things out of my control again. Every March my anxiety spikes a tad, this March, my anxiety is off the charts! I know in my heart all is going to be fine, I just wish I could make my head believe the same things!