New diagnosis: Hypochondria

On Tuesday it will be three weeks since chemo ended.  Radiation starts on Tuesday.  Tuesday also marks the day I get to start Tamoxifen (I love Wikipedia's definition--antagonist of the estrogen receptor in breast tissue).  I have been told anecdotally that mood swings are a side effect of Tamoxifen, so if I interact with you in the next few weeks and suddenly burst into tears, that is most likely why.

While I still have 6 weeks left of active treatment, the end of chemo has been the first time since April that I feel like I've finally noticed my surroundings.  Which has provided a hint of what my post-cancer life may become: thinking that every ache and pain is a new cancer.  For example, earlier this week my stomach hurt.  This inevitably led me to wonder, "what are the symptoms of ovarian cancer"?  Turns out, stomach pain is a symptom.  Stomach pain is also just plain stomach pain too, but it led me to wonder, "what if when my ovaries are removed next year, they find I have ovarian cancer too?"
 A rational person would likely think, "Rachele, that's silly.  You probably don't have ovarian cancer."  Well you know what?  I don't like odds anymore.  I never in a million years thought I'd have breast cancer and look how that turned out.  While I'm really getting morbid, if I'm unlucky enough to get breast cancer, then it also means I'm unlucky enough to have something terrible happen to Aaron, the girls, my parents or my friends too.  This is how I think nowadays.  Basically, I don't feel safe anymore.  If I can get cancer, then lots of other bad things can happen too.

To add to this feeling, some of you have asked what happens when treatment is all over.  How will I be monitored moving forward to make sure I don't have to go through this again?  At a high level, my team basically monitors how I'm feeling.  There might be tests here and there, but there really aren't any tests or scans that are done on a regular basis.  Basically, you just have to have faith that it will get caught before it gets too far.  This has outraged and frustrated some of you, to which I usually think, if it makes you feel that way, how do you think I feel?

So that's what's been consuming me this week.  I did call my oncologist about my stomach pains and they're getting me in to see the doctor that will be removing my ovaries.  The intent is to put me more at ease (I think).  I'll let you know.

In the meantime, at least I can shift my idle mind onto radiation.  As I told some friends earlier this week, I'm pretty sure there are already notes about me in my file at the radiation office.  But that's a blog post for another day.