Four years ago today, I was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic melanoma. It felt like a death sentence, like a punch in the stomach, like the world had stopped spinning.
It has been more than a year since my last post. I have been wanting to write but just haven't had the words. Here is my attempt to bring you up to date.
Since that day, 4 years ago, not surprisingly, my life has changed and so have I. I have experienced some of the greatest moments and darkest hours of my life. I have travelled to far away places I never thought I would see. I have realized how very essential my family and friends are. I have recognized how much I did and still do take for granted. I know that life can go from beautiful to terrible without warning, I have learned that I should not be afraid of dying but instead be terrified of wasting this life that I have.
I have been NED, showing no evidence of disease, since March, 2012. I continue to be followed closely by my oncologist. We started with imaging at 3 month intervals for about a year, then 4 months for a year, then 6 months. My imaging had been unremarkable until February 2015 when my PET/CT showed some irregularity. After consulting with my oncologist we decided that another PET/CT in 3 months was appropriate. That PET/CT showed some irregularity in my brain so a brain MRI was ordered to evaluate more thoroughly. That brain MRI (5/15) demonstrated a lesion that could be benign or metastasis. Due to the continued presence of irregularity, another brain MRI was ordered in 3 months. My 8/15 brain MRI was still showing an enhancing lesion with no definitive diagnosis, which might be benign or metastasis. My oncologist does not seem terribly excited or concerned but has ordered complete imaging, neck/chest/abdomen/pelvis CT and brain MRI again for this December.
I have permanent reminders of my experience with melanoma. The physical scars have faded. I have been damaged but not broken. The emotional wounds have healed significantly but are easily reopened, reinfected. The mind, my mind is delicate and requires more time to mend than does the amazingly resilient body.
I still fluctuate between feeling ecstatic, strong, even unbreakable to feeling battered, weak, wondering where the person I used to be has gone.
Looking back, some of my most difficult and painful times were also the most powerful, remarkable and even beautiful. Those very frightening and physically unpleasant moments were when life seemed most meaningful. Worth suffering through anything to keep. A most precious gift that would be mine if I could just hang on.
I understand that I am one of the lucky ones. Why? I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have survived. Maybe it's luck, maybe it's grace. It certainly isn't strength, courage or bravery that has kept me alive, though I'm sure it has helped. Strength, bravery and courage are no match to the power of cancer. Too many other people, including my friends and family, have not survived. Cancer doesn't play fair. It does what it wants. It takes who it wants. I am not stronger than those who haven't survived. I am not any braver than they were. I certainly did not fight harder than they did. But I am here, alive and so grateful. Maybe it's not over for me? This might be my NED intermission. My biggest battle may be yet to come.
Worrying serves no purpose. It doesn't change anything it only wastes valuable time. So I try, very hard, not to be troubled about the future, about recurrence. It is challenging, but I'm getting better at it.
As always, I am genuinely thankful and profoundly humbled by the support and love I have and continue to receive from my friends and family. During the best and worst of times, whether we are celebrating or I am in a hospital bed, I know I will not be alone. This has played an essential role in my continued health. I can't imagine how much more difficult this part of my life would be without all of you. Thank you, sincerely.
I am living my story, and it's not over.
~Heather
