That time of year....again

The other day my husband asked me to hire a cleaning lady until I take the bar exam.  Apparently, I have been a raging lunatic lately!?  What he fails to recognize, and not for lack of caring, is that my increased stress level is not because of a messy house, finals, and the July bar.  It's because of the phone calls I've ignored for over three weeks.  I finally got the courage to return the calls to my doctor and my yearly appointments are made.  When I received my breast cancer diagnosis, I visited the doctor every two weeks.  Once I finished chemo, every three months.  After two years, my appointments were six months apart.  Once you reach the five year mark, yearly appointments.  Last year I celebrated my sixth year of being cancer free! (in Vegas with my amazing sisters)

During my six year appointment, my doctor explained that triple negative breast cancer is most likely to recur within the first five years after diagnosis. (you can learn more about triple negative here)  It is very rare to find a recurrence after five years.  The next words my doctor said were,"you're cured."  If I am cured, why am I so stressed about my yearly appointments?  Because I do NOT trust cancer.  Cancer does not care about statistics.  Cancer does not care if after five years it is not supposed to return for an encore.  The disease is like a psychopath.  It lacks a conscience, manipulates you into thinking you are healthy, and ruins your life if you let your guard down.  I am just not comfortable with the words, "you're cured."

I am not sitting around waiting to get cancer again.  After my diagnosis, I worried about my disease every second of every day.  Almost seven years later, I do not worry about it at all.  I did everything I could to ensure that I would be healthy forever.  My fate is not up to me.  I have put all of my faith and trust in God.  Only He knows how I will leave this earth and when.  There is no reason to worry about a disease that could come back.  I could walk out of the house and get hit by a car.  At this point in my life, I have more of a chance of getting killed in a car accident than from a recurrence of cancer.  Still, these darn appointments increase my stress and put a pit in my stomach.  The appointments force me to think about the cancer.  I don't want to give this disease one second of my thoughts.

Nonetheless, my first appointment is tomorrow.  I can only hope that these yearly appointments eventually cause less stress, otherwise my husband may kick me to the curb once a year.  If you have a loved one that is a survivor and they get a bit crazy around the time of their appointments, now you know why.  Give them a bit more love and understanding.