Thank you for your wonderfully supportive comments on Facebook and Twitter this week, but I wasn’t selected to testify before that Congressional Committee.
My piece for the Washington Post was turned down too, and I didn’t hear from a couple of other places I sent it. Perhaps it was too internet-oriented, as I wrote (and submitted) it just after the FB bra flap. Oh well.
I suppose I can’t be too disappointed … I spent Monday afternoon at the oncologist’s for a routine exam, and although there were a couple rough spots, including when I was offered a brain scan to check on my headaches (um, no thanks!), everything is just fine. They’re not concerned. There is no sign of metastasis, and I’ve “graduated” to a second hormone therapy medication. (Goodbye, Tamoxifen!) This drug comes with its own special set of side effects (like I needed more aches and pains?), but it also has been shown to reduce the recurrence of hormone-dependent cancer in postmenopausal women.
Yeah. I said it.
Postmenopausal. Not a word that you hear around the playgroup too often. But that’s what it is. That’s what happens when they rip out your ovaries. But you know what? I’m still here. I’m still kicking, and I’m still fighting. And I will keep speaking out for as long as I can talk or type. The message will get out there. And one day, there will be early detection and uncomplicated treatment, and finally, a reason not to fear a diagnosis of cancer.