It’s an evolution not a revolution

Hello old friend. It’s been a while since I’ve written and so much has changed. At the beginning of the year, you know, the month of January when you’re fresh and bold and ready to make the changes you need to get things done and feel accomplished, I made my appointment to have my final implants put in. Long story about why I haven’t had it done sooner. A story that gets even longer. Implants are a same-day surgery which require a whole bunch of silly tests and doctor sign-offs. One of those tests was a routine blood test. Nothing to write home about. Until my oncologist called out of the blue looking to schedule an immediate appointment. That appointment led to a few more blood tests, a couple of scans and a phone call in a restaurant from the oncologist to say the cancer is back, riddled up and down my spine and rib cage.
How was it that I didn’t crumble right there and then? Some things I’ll never know the answer to. It had been only two years since I’d undergone the horrors of chemotherapy, radiation and surgery. Two years since my sister took her life, unable to live with the ravages cancer had left her with. And here I was at the precipice again.

January gave way to February and then to March, whose frigid air blew in a new drug regime that include a painful monthly shot in the ass and one in the arm and a new daily pill. Combined, they forbode of hair loss, fatigue and a continual pain in the ass.
Stage IV cancer is a different world from all the other stages. But it’s still a world and one I can live in. It brought with it a new vocabulary – incurable, inoperable, palliative care. Words I didn’t want to hear or believe. Ones I’ve since stricken from my dictionary. And so I revisit this blog with a new message, a new story that looks differently at the past as well as the future – but a future that still is bright and full of hope. And so old friend, walk with me as I tell you my tale.

Liz Johnson

Liz Johnson

Writer. Blogger. Advocate. Breast Cancer Conscript.