It has been such a terrific weekend.  I don’t think the weather could have been more perfect for B and E camping or for the prom that A attended with her friend.  (She looked beautiful and had a great time, by the way.  We have a funny story about hair that one of us will write about soon.)  I had the place to myself last night until A came home, and decided to watch a movie that was sitting on our computer.  It was a fun movie.  It wasn’t about the matriarch’s breast cancer, but at the very end she informed her kids that this time it was it, and it was apparent in the last scene that she’d died.  My first thought was to protect my kids from this.  My second thought was not to. 

The  reality that the cancer could come back (or perhaps not have left completely) is something that comes to me from time to time.  But a true G.O. doesn’t hold on to this for long.  When I see people I have not seen in a while they ask if the cancer is gone.  My answer is simple.  My surgeon said it was gone when she visited me the day after surgery.  My oncologist suggested it was gone as well.  When I think about the fact that a rogue cell could be hiding in my tissue it lasts for a second or two, and then I think that I never wondered when the bus would hit me before all this began.  When I get asked ‘what’s the prognosis?’ I just have to tell it like it is.  I don’t really know, but I do know a lot of people go on to live long lives and some die too early.  We don’t spend much time talking about this at home.  I think I can speak for all when I say that we are just happy to get back in gear together.  At this point I am encountering people who never knew that I had cancer, and they are none the wiser.  This to me is a good sign that I’m moving beyond it all to the degree that I can.

After a weekend like this (minus the hot flashes), I could almost convince myself that the past 9 months didn’t exist.  Really.  I feel very good.  My scar is healing very nicely.  My range of motion is almost back to normal.  When I got out of the shower E was happy to comb my hair, like he did before I shaved my head.  He even messed around parting it in different places.  I was in the garden today, harvesting lettuce and spinach, planting some perennials, watering the cabbage and broccoli.  I primed the floor boards for the bathroom.  See?  It’s life with spring breezes, projects, katz finding sun spots beneath the sky lights.

Since this blog is about ‘a family’s life with breast cancer’, I will keep you informed.  My next appointment is in a couple weeks.  The tamoxifen update is thus:  I don’t feel any different.  I’m active, I’m eating well and sleeping well.   I did have a couple people ask about the detox.  It was a week long, and was based around a cabbage soup.   You eat a combination of the soup with veggies, fruit, bananas, skim milk and protein on different days.   I don’t know if it has anything to do with my overall feeling of well being, but I felt good following the recommendations through to the end.  I’m not going to publish it though.  I think that if people are interested in doing a detox, they ought to have someone advise them.  I really trust my herbalist and she was my guide.  When we agreed to follow the recommendations from the medical model, we also agreed to balance it with other advice.  This particular advice came from someone I trust, in whose hands I feel very supported.

Sitting here on my deck, with the late afternoon shadows in the forest that surrounds our house, glints of sunlight on the spring green leaves, with the birds and tree frogs chirping away, I am awake to the fact that I like being alive right now.  I am going to do what I can so that it lasts a good long time.