I'm (NOT F'*%$@#$) "OK"!

Man who turned 94 the other day - when asked how are you:   " I am still kicking, only not as high."

No offense Athena cause I feel the same way.  Puts me in the defense when asked the question.

Well said Virginia -I have downscaled things so much that I almost believe it was nothing more than a cold then when I think about it I get a shock all over again. In the cold light of the day I am still in denial even after going thru the treatment.There are only a very few people to whom I can talk as much as I want to and say my fears  the others are only for a 'Im fine' answer.

What about the 'you must be positive' one ?Thats what really gets me.As if its going to make any difference.

Wishing you all a pleasant evening

Anna

when I was in active treatment, I would say "It is really hard but I am being brave." I figured if you just say 'fine' it minimalizes it, and if you say it's hard, you don't look as strong as i wanted to. So I figured I covered both bases with that answer.

Now that chemo and rads are done, I just say I'm doing great. For me, it is reinforcing, and the more I say it, the more it helps me stay strong and 'up.'  Of course I have my more vulnerable moments around family and close friends, but I don't like to show that side to acquaintences anyway. when people say I look great, I smile and say thank you. I figure it's not worth much more investment than that.

Actually, I DO answer "I'm GREAT !!" -- because it has been 3-1/2 years and in comparison to 2006, I DO feel great. However, when asked "did they get it all ??" I only answer "I certainly hope so -- but nobody knows"

Sure, chemo's not so bad if you're comparing it to, say, Hurricane Katrina.

Sheesh is right.

Leah

In a mall last week, ran into an acquaintance who likes to talk about people behind their backs, she opens with, "Hey Sheila, how are you, you're looking good."

Me with arms crossed, rubbing upper arms, like I'm cold: "You think so? My bl&@dy arms hurt like hell, do they look funny to you?"

Her, with a questioning look at my arms, "No, I don't think so, why?"

Me, looking down at them, "Well . . . .all that swimming, you know, against the current."

Her, standing back to look into my face, "Current . . .  . what current?

Me, leaning towards her as if I was going to tell her a secret, "Yeah, you know . . . . . the current around the plug hole.  I'm not ready to get sucked down there yet!"

Her, looking at me as if I had suddenly grown two heads, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Well. . I'd better be going, things to do you know!"

I hope she now has a mental picture of what life is like on the BC merry-go-round. If she hasn't figured out what I meant, which is highly probable, she won't be telling others what I said in case she looks stupid.  Or. . . she will be telling them that I'm funny in the head these days, due to the BC.

Oh well, you can't win them all!

Sheila.

When anyone asks how I'm doing - I just respond I'm fine - thanks for asking.  Most of the people who ask me just ask to be polite - they want you to know that even though they are thinking about you and wish you well, they really don't want to hear anything more than that because they don't know what we all had to go through to get to the point where we are now.  Yes, they know that I had surgery, chemo and rads - my physical appearance tells them that.  But what they don't know is the emotional roller coaster we are all on and that is what they are scared to hear.

I'm usually quite chuffed (= pleased) when people say I look well.  However, I often reply that it's amazing how well you can look when you're ill.  And feel.

When people ask how I am, I often say 'So far, so good'. (Vague, but not totally untruthful)

I often FEEL like saying 'Beating back the flames, as usual' (a fairly accurate description) - and occasionally do.

Sometimes I point out that I have, through dint of frequent scans the advantage of knowing what's going on in my body, which is more than they have, ie hinting that we could all have nasties lurking inside us......naughty, but it makes people think a bit.

Sheila - brilliant reply!  I would have loved to see the look on her face!

I agree with Tami. I am so sick of hearing how strong I am. I had a BMX w/TE's and I get tired of hearing that at least I will have perky boobs! Little do they know what sacrifice comes with that. Although I am considered early stage it still scares the crap out of me - the unknown of it recurring. My family wants to believe this is all over and I should not be dwelling on it so much but I can't help it. For me, looking in the mirror every day is a constant reminder. Maybe once I get my implants thing will change. I sure hope so!

I watched Ms Ehrenreich last night too and am definitely going to hunt for her book -- she thinks as I do!!!

Positive thinking?  Bah! I have one sister who worries about everything (she's hard-wired that way), and another who sails through life relatively worry-free (she says, why waste energy by worrying?  What's going to happen, will happen...)  Both sisters had ovarian cancer -- the worrier was positive she was going to expire within a year of dx, and she's still going strong 14 years later!  The non-worrier is a 5-yr survivor and continues to be a happy camper.

Athena, you're so right -- positive thinking doesn't control gene mutations!  And it's absolutely useless for worriers

Cheers, Linda

hi my name is rose and i had stage 6 triple negative bc did chemotherapy and radiation after mastectomy on right breast

i don't think anyone will have a good answer because there is no good answer everything about bc is hard. good luck

"Oh I only had "little cancer", not the "real" cancer... just breast cancer. I didn't even lose my hair. But I did have my breasts removed. THAT was a pretty bad day." There is something about those "glass half full" people looking at those of us who are holding the half empty (or bilaterally missing) glass, that makes us want to force them to know the most graphic and horrifying details of our ordeal. The only one of these people that really gets to me is my DH. I decided that BC Awareness Month should be a time to educate him.

My DH doesn't want awareness. He never asks if I'm ok, just smiles at me. He couldn't take the day off work to drive me to the hospital for my 2nd surgery (bilateral mx). He did feed me while I was recovering but overall he has taken a Hear-no-evil-Speak-no-evil-See-no-evil approach: doesn't want to hear about it and changes the subject; didn't want me or my daughters to tell friends or family; doesn't want to see the battle scars. I don't want his pity but I resent that he doesn't understand the magnitude of what I'm going through.

On a good day, I know that he cares but doesn't want to face the reality that I have to live in, and I appreciate that there is someone in my life who can look at me without thinking "cancer". And besides, one of us needs to be ok. I try to put most people who ask how I'm doing in this category -- just smile and say "great!".

On a bad day I feel like he just doesn't get it. And I try not to talk to anyone. 

On my worst day, the first day of BC Awareness Month, I informed (yelled at) him that "no, I'm not  okay." I was assaulted. And now I have to take a drug that may cause another type of cancer to reduce the risk or getting attacked again by the known enemy. And I have to worry about my daughters, sisters, neices, and every woman I know. I'm going to win this battle, but the war is not over and it never will be for me. Yes I am very fortunate to have been diagnosed so early and to not need chemo but it isn't just a stone in the road (as my Pathologist said when he gave me the diagnosis). I'm going to live my life but my perspective has changed. My parents died in their 60's (my mother had Alzheimer's and osteoporosis, likely related to cancer treatment). I know that I will be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life but in all honesty, I've been looking over my shoulder for a long time. If I wans't, I wouldn't have been diagnosed at an early stage.

So, how am I? Relieved to be cancer-free today. I like to say, "I'm cancer-free!" For me that sums it up. It is how I am this moment. It is my mantra. And if they really don't want to hear details, revisit my experience or understand my apprehensions, they can simply congratulate me and move on.

And if DH doesn't get it by the end of BC Awareness Month, I may be forced to take drastic measures. Instead of a Halloween costume, I'll just flash him.