[2023-07-20] CA125 and recovery day 13

Some days, I feel like a walking, talking health case. While still recovering from my bilateral mastectomy to avoid breast cancer, I continue to be monitored for recurrence of ovarian cancer and perianal skin cancer.

Today, I had my monthly blood work related to ovarian cancer, and I'm happy that my CA125 remains in the single digits. Today's 9 continues the low and steady results I've enjoyed for more than 2½ years. I'm OK if my results continue to bounce between 7, 8 and 9.

And next week, I will have my quarterly follow-up with my radiation oncologist related to my perianal skin cancer.

Rather than see these various appointments as a nuisance, I see them as a source of peace of mind. I know that the healthcare system is following me closely, ready to take action at any sign of cancer.

As for my recovery from the bilateral mastectomy, today was a much better day than yesterday. In fact, if yesterday felt like one step backward, today felt like three steps forward.

I started my day after a good night's sleep. In itself, this is miraculous, considering that I spend the entire night in one position—sleeping on my back on a wedge pillow.

I had energy to go for a walk around Rice Lake with Chris. The green heron was back, sitting still on a small branch, hunched over the water, ready to capture any unsuspecting prey swimming by. The great egret was also on hand. Standing still in the water, its distinguished white plumage gleaming in the sun, it waited patiently. You can just make out the great egret in tonight's visual.

In fact, I did so much walking around Rice Lake, Bruce Pit and several stores that I exceeded 10,000 steps on the day. I felt good while doing it, and just as good in the evening.

I've also noticed significant improvement in my comfort and mobility. I can now open a medicine bottle with a childproof cap (who knew that you needed chest muscles to open those things?). I can reach higher cupboards with greater ease. The steely stabbies have all but disappeared. And I was able to stretch the time between doses of pain medicine with no ill effects.

Although it sounds like I'm doing a lot, I really am taking it easy. I was mindful of the counsel of a good friend, who wrote to me last night to remind me that my focus needs to be on healing:

You’ve had major surgery. Major parts removed and then something foreign added to your body. Your body is saying WTF. Your mind may be more accepting but your body needs time to catch up. All your energy is necessarily going to healing and there isn’t much left over. And it’s not even two weeks. Sheesh.

Think of anything else. Broken leg - six weeks. Sprained wrist - six weeks. Common cold? 9 days - 3 days coming, 3 days here and 3 days going.

And for you it’s cumulative. How much has your body gone through? I hope you can let go and not just say it. You are recovering. You will recover. You will probably have good days and bad but all in the right direction. Be gentle with yourself.

I promised my friend that I would not push myself to be somewhere I'm not.

This morning, another friend sent me a beautiful thought by Gordana Biernat: "Life is like a river on its way to the infinite ocean, gathering experiences as it flows... Go with your flow." That's what today felt like—going with my flow.

Finally, a third friend sent me warm wishes on my recovery and an update on her own. She concluded her email by saying, "And yet we carry on and we get through." I love the mix of realism and optimism evident in her statement.

We do get through. We flow and gather experiences. We take care of ourselves and each other.