Mourning or grieving the life we give up to fight cancer

It is hard - to enter a new world, full of unexpected and difficult things. I remember being very sad about my lack of hair, my lack of energy, my new chest. It does get better.

Try to think of this as for a season. You won't always be this way. And try to get out into life. I really think it helps.

JoE, so sorry to hear you lost your son. I have 2 grown sons and I can't even bear the thought of anything happing to them. I am coping with the loss of my father. I had no idea I would fall into a depression. He lived a long happy life but I feel such a deep sense of loss. I am an only child and my father was an only too. My parents were divorced many years ago but my mom feels the loss too. My cancer impact has been minimal compared to so many on BCO but it is significant to me.

I feel I lost over a year of my children lives. Both sons ages 11 and 13 at the time have special needs and depend on me when it comes to school etc. I had to put myself first, never really cared about my hair etc. they both felt the impact of that and having to deal with a mother who has cancer.

It really hit home when my oldest now 14 at the beginning of this summer said to me that he hoped it wasn't going to be like last summer when I wasn't able to do much. Thank god I am better, energy level is low but I save most of my energy for them and hubby.

Hi i was diagnosed nearly two years ago now but have had the hardest time emotionally. I grieve still for my old life as I was so blessed carefree and happy. Id give anything to have a day back im so lucky to have wonderful hubby and children but I fear recurrence so much and last year fell into massive depression i grieve for that wasted time but onwards and upwards and I'm doing better every day and grateful for it .

Nisha - the beginning of this is the toughest. But, with every week of your treatment - you will be closer to the end. It seems to go by slow, but then before you know it - it is done. (I know that sounds like an overused cliche, but it’s true!!)

Hugs!!!

Nisha517:

My fertility/the prospects of having a family. The at least 15% drop in the chance that I will be alive in 10 years. My old diet...particularly my breakfast. I think I am going to miss sensation in my chest on account of the fact that numb body parts bother me.

I have a friend in treatment right now who is always saying, "I cannot wait to get back to my old life." I've never had the heart to tell her that she will never go back. She will find out soon enough and begin the grieving process of losing her old life.

I am now 7 years out. It takes a long time. When I was in year 3 post cancer, I had a really rough time. A friend recommended I call a former pastor of mine who was a cancer survivor who wasn't expected to live, but he did. The minute I started talking, he knew where I was in the grieving process of my old life.

He told me that he figured out that he had to "Adapt and Adjust" and once he began that process, life got better. I have found that to be true!

It takes time, energy and determination to Adapt and Adjust to your new life. But it does get better!

I read this thread several days ago and it stuck in my mind. I think it pushed something forward emotionally in me that has been helpful. The idea that we mourn our old lives suggests two things. First, that we are not the same post-treatment as after. Of course, some women continue their lives normally or at least as close to normal as it was. For the rest, its the "new normal". Second, "mourn" also allows me to feel sad. But one can't grieve forever (or should not). We have to move on. The lesson I am learning from this is to accept my new body (Tissue expanders on both breasts). I moved to qickly through diagnosis and treatment that I never got to mourn.

So let's make a pack to grieve, accept and re-connect with our old selves as much as possible. I am 46--had a great job (which I hope to return to in Jan), managed two busy kids, a house, and a husband and groomed myself (hair, make up, dress). Now I spend my days in yoga pants and go from energy healer to acupuncture to therapist to doctor (for all my various symptoms). Yesterday, I had a great day when I went to work for a meeting.

Tomorrow I am going to the OBGYN because they think I may have uterine cancer. I really hope not because I am just trying to get used to this "new normal"-- less active body, hard time breathing, pain, acid reflux, depression. Just 5 months ago I was a together over-achiever who was part of a power couple. Not so much anymore.

I get it.

For me I have lost everything to this cancer. Any small spark of hope and dreams that had been keeping me going the past five year of misery crumbled into dust the second I got the cancer diagnosis. I got frankenboobs I can't bear to look at, I have no family no kids to work through the misery of treatment and recovery I am utterly and completely alone.

Ironically it didn't hit me until I was and still am recovering for the bmx with prepec implants. My inability to do normal everyday things,because it leave s me aching and activates the node area to feel like I am being stabbed with a knife twisting. Being unable to fend for myself even though I miraculously h e amazing arm mobility even at three weeks is   what made me decide no chemo no matter what the pathology says.  It's one thing when you have a support system that can be there when you need them. It's another when you got no one and have to deal with all of it by yourself and the health system just pats you on the head and pretty much says without actually verbally saying  it 

"There there now dont bother us until death is knocking at your door otherwise your just a pain and a drain on the system"

So ya other then surgery I'm done. I didn't have much of a life before this started due to quality of life draining chronic illnesses and now my quality of life is dead and buried. 

As much as its existence sucked  I would give anything to go back to when I thought I was healthy and all those small sparks of hope for the future still existed.

All I got now is ashes of what they used to be in a place full of darkness.

Breast cancer is an insidious disease. I didn't allow myself to grieve much during the process. I kept my game face on for my kids especially my youngest son who was terrified. Several of his friends lost their mothers to cancer. I didn't even cry until I got my Oncotype score and dodged chemo because my score was low.

It is a worn out cliche but time does help. I'm 7 years out and don't focus on it so much anymore. I do still get nervous before my annual mammo however and sometimes I worry that every ache and pain is a recurrence.

Still I've come to terms with the unlucky card I was dealt. It's not like any of us have a choice. We certainly didn't ask for this.

I know women including my sister who haven't been as fortunate because she had a local recurrence after 4 years two years ago. She has to have monthly shots. I've also lost a friend to BC and another just DX with Stage IV BC. It's very discouraging.

Still determined to keep the faith.

Diane

Jaded, I hope that in time, your pain will get better and pleasures big and small will come back. Breaking out of solitude is tough and risky, but it beats the alternative. I hope you will find some good people, a group maybe, where you can contribute and make ties. Take care.

jjo;

I am so sorry that you feel so lost and alone. Are there are people in your medical group that you can get into a group with to just talk and let out your feelings and frustrations? This site has been helpful for me to talk about all that is going on with others in the same situation.

I hope that you can find some level of comfort and encouragement with us.

Angelsgal57

I cried and cried and cried my first year after diagnosis. Now I don’t cry as much and somehow, there has been some sort of settling in or acceptance of that this is the path that my life is on and it will be up and down and go sideways and backwards at times.

I grieve the energy that I used to have - I was always going somewhere and out and about. Now I am much calmer and more of a hermit (which probably means I socialize on a much more “normal” level that most people are on).

I try to remember that this diagnosis is simply a part of my story and doesn’t exist as the entire me. But I also can’t help but remember every time I look in the mirror at my breasts or side effects are heavier on one day more than another.

I try to think about how amazing it is that with today’s medicine, we can live longer and with a much better QOL for the most part. My lifestyle is, if anything, healthier and I thankfully am currently able to work part time and take the other days to rest and relax. It’s like an early retirement!