"How are you?" Hmm...How am I?

With the completion of my chemo and the start of my radiation there is a lot of reason for celebration and excitement. Heck - I've even threw myself a party! I am thankful for many things. But when it comes to answering the question that has been posed to me countless times over the past several weeks, "How are you?", I'm not quite sure what the right, honest or best answer is. I haven't found a consistent or a complete answer yet.

I appear to be doing ok, or even pretty well. I'm feeling much better than I did while I was undergoing chemo. I feel more like myself every week, hopefully it will soon reach the point where I can say every single day I feel an improvement. But that is how I feel physically from the treatments. How do I feel regarding the disease of cancer? That's an entirely different story.

I feel scared. My prognosis is good but in all honesty, the cure for cancer does not exist. I don't have many fears. I'm not sure if that was me pre-cancer but I am certain that is me post-cancer. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that my greatest fear is recurrence. I try not to dwell on it but I must admit, not a day passes that it doesn't cross my mind. I try to rely on the reassurance that my completed course of chemotherapy would surely have killed any remaining cancer cells but yet can't help but question that thought process while I am currently facing 6 and 1/2 weeks of required radiation.

Each time I stand up my legs and feet ache so much so that I move as if I am a pregnant 85 year old woman. When I lay in bed and night and try to sleep the pain in my joints, particularly my hands, fingers, feet and knees make it difficult to rest. The mornings are by far the worst. After tossing and turning all night and my body temperature fluctuating between the cool air conditioner and the immeasurable hot flashes and night sweats I am so stiff and ache so much that getting out of bed and placing my feet on the floor is a chore I dread. I can deal with that though. But with each of those moments a thought, a worry races through my mind, is this normal? Is this the effects of chemo? Or could this be something more?

I don't believe in living in fear, nor do I think that you should waste your moments worrying about things that have not and may not happen. The fear of my cancer returning though is a reality. My challenge will be to balance the fear with awareness and knowledge and find a sense of peace and comfort. I've learned so much about breast cancer and about myself on this journey and I have done well. I am sure that somehow, with this too I will do well.