I went to see my oncologist today – had a lump under my armpit. I thought the mighty NHL had returned. It turned out to be a clogged sweat gland. I felt like such a dork, but had I not gone I would have spent the next week convinced that the cancer was back. The reassurance totally made my day – we are drinking champagne tonight and toasting my sweat glands. It’s the little things….
Thank goodness that is all it was. I don’t think I will ever get away from recurrence anxiety. Don’t feel like a dork, you deserve to know what is going on!
Don’t feel like a dork. It is much better getting it checked than waiting. Bet you had never thought you’d be celebrating a clogged sweat gland! I would be celebrating also!
Happy New Year, Sandyjo
That is great news that that is all it was! I would toast the sweat gland too I used to have those a while back, but wasn’t too worried back then. I can only imagine what I would be thinking now.
...and of course your not a dork. Were all probably going to checking and worrying about something now and then.
Take Care,
Jeff
Kelly, What a wonderful “Ode to Clogged Sweat Gland” post.
But forget feeling like a dork. That’s one of the specific freedoms we all give up when we come to Camp Cancer, the freedom to feel like a dork. Instead, we have the obligation to make sure our doctors never wind up saying, “You shouldn’t have waited so long.”
Champagne Hugs and 3 Cheers for Clogged Gland Joy!
Yay! So glad it was good news for you, Kelly. We’ll take a clogged sweat gland any day!
THAT IS WONDERFUL. DON’T EVER FEEL BAD about having things checked out. Have ANYTHING out of the ordinary checked. It is better to be safe than sorry. My love, thoughts and prayers are with you.
Love and hugs,
Joyce In NC
PS: Your post definitely inspired me Kelly. I feel like doing a post of my comments ….Dedicated to your sweat gland, of course.
Good for you, I am happy for you, and soooooo glad to hear its just an old sweat gland…have a drink in my name…stay well.
Claudya
So sorry for you to have such a scare…glad things turned out well in the new year.
Take care,
Doreen
What a scare! Glad u r ok!
Kelly: Congratulations! I just had a petscan for my #5 Chemo and it showed something in my left breast. So, today I had mammogram and Ultra sound and there’s no cancer! So, I need some of that champagne. Here’s to your clogged sweat gland! YEAH. Kelly, you had NHL, what stage? Did you have to have radiation? If so, how was it? I’m so scared as I start it in March. My cancer was behind my right ear lobe and underneath middle of chin. Those areas are close to nerves and afraid of losing my hearing. If you had radiation please let me know. Thanks….
I was Stage 2 – it was in my neck and had began to spread to my chest. I did 6 rounds of RCHOP and my scan was clear, but they recommended radiation. They said it would lessen the chances of it coming back. I did 23 days. The first two weeks were a breeze. By the end I couldn’t really swallow food and had a lot of pain when trying to swallow anything. I also had quite a bit of reflux. Also, totally ruined the taste of food for a month or so. We are big wine drinkers and it took several months for me to be able to enjoy wine due to the acidity and the lack of taste for fruits.
I am happy to say it was all temporary and I was completely back to normal in a few months. I did keep a website in which I chronicled everything. The link should be in my profile.
Last year at this time I had just completed my first round of chemotherapy a few days prior and I was feeling full of hope because even after just a few days the tumor in my neck was already shrinking. Who knew that the “after-cancer” part is just as the scary as the “cancer-fighter” phase.
My chemotherapy ended in March, and my radiation treatment ended in May. And I’ve felt good lately. I have energy again and life has returned to normal for the most part. The part that hasn’t returned to normal is my inner dialogue.
I am still struggling so much with the thought of relapse. I can’t stop obsessing about it. I just saw the oncologist last week and he said that everything seems fine and that he’ll see me in four months. My last PET Scan was in August, and he just didn’t see the need to do one this go-around. In a way, I was really glad because the scans themselves can increase your cancer chances, but in another way I felt like I should have one because I’m terrified it’s going to come back. There is no rational explaination for this fear other than the statistics that exist.
I know that when I talk about my fears with my husband and family it is hard on them because I’m sure they don’t want to think about it. So more and more, I just keep it to myself. Particularly during the holidays when everyone wants to just relax and enjoy the festivities. Everyone just wants to move forward and forget that whole “cancer chapter”. But that cancer chapter has become a big part of my story and it will always be an underlying theme. It has become the motivation for both positive and negative things. On the good days it motivates me to be a better person and to appreciate all that I have. On the bad days, it causes me to have trouble sleeping or to be short with people who aren’t appreciating the fact that they are living a cancer free existence. I hate that I feel that way sometimes. I suppose jealousy is normal, but I don’t like being that way.
I know the anxiety is a little less than it was 3-4 months ago. Back then, I would literally have symptom prior to appointments. At least this last appointment, I didn’t go in with any symptoms. And I do go hours, sometimes most of a day without thinking about it. But other days, it completely overwhelms my thoughts.
Is this normal? Does it get better? Am I crazy? Thanks for letting me vent – I’m glad to have a group that will listen and hopefully not judge. I find it harder and harder to express these feelings around people who aren’t going through this whole “cancer-thing”.
What used to really make things tough for me was Googling stuff on the internet. I’ve now learned that instead of Googling stuff like “Stage 4 Laryngeal Cancer prognosis”, or “Larynx cancer” – I now Google “Stage 4 Cancer SURVIVORS”. We are thankful for each day – and honestly, that’s all any of us can do. It angers me to no end to see folks around us still smoking – even though that was the direct cause of Johnny’s cancer and they are cancer-free, but it does no good to be angry, or worry, or any of those negative things. One of my dear friends convinced me that worrying about stuff that hasn’t even happened is counter-productive, and a waste of time. Her dad was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and given 6 months to live, and he did indeed die of the disease…..twenty years later! Statistics belong on ESPN. You are not a statistic:)
Ditto AshleyAnn! I couldn’t have said it better.
Yeah, that smoking is a tough one. There are days I say, “Damn, all I want is a cigarette.” But that lasts about 5 seconds.
Sometimes I think it wasn’t anything more than the un-luck of the draw.
Hugs, Nicole
Hi Kelly,
You are NOT crazy. You are as sane as I am (I don’t know if that’s any consolation ha!). I obsess over every little bump, ache, and pain thinking it’s the nhl recurring. We are cancer survivors and cancer will always be a part of us though it may be in remission for good. I hope this gets better with time for you and for all of us. I do try to change the worry into a positive. Instead of thinking, “What if it comes back?” I say “I better enjoy every day in case it comes back.”
None of us can know how much time we have left on this earth so, if you can, just try to be kind to yourself and others and take pleasure in every second. We have been given a gift – a second chance at life – no matter how brief the respite may be. I won’t tell you not to worry but I will reassure you that you are not alone in your worrying. I feel that way too. Take care.
You sound vey normal to me! I truly believe that everyone who goes through cancer ends up with at least a mild case of PTSD. And I don’t say that jokingly. We are like soldiers sent off to war in a foreign country, who experience things, emotional and physical, that the “civilian” population will never understand. I think it does get better with time, but I don’t think it happens overnight. We humans are very resilient, but we have to be gentle on ourselves, and not expect that our wounds will be instantly healed. And even when we are “healed”, I expect there will still be scars! Just have to hope that we can make the most of the scars that allow us to appreciate life and love others a little more, let go of the ones that cause us, and the folks around us, too much pain. And you can always come talk to us, because we are your fellow warriors, we’ve been to battle as well and we understand how you feel. Hugs-Ann
Hi Kelly,
Seems like when we were diagnosed, a lot of us unknowingly bought a ticket on this same boat. I’m definitely sailing with you right now.
I liken this tough after-cancer life to the metaphor of an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other. One voice is optimistic, while the other takes delight in scaring me as much as possible & never letting me really forget.
You’re right, the remembrance and appreciation is a gift and I am grateful for it. But I still long for the innocence of the old me sometimes. Who wouldn’t?! And I think that when people shy away from our histories, they do so for that reason. It didn’t happen to them but they now know it could. That life can change so fast, that bad things do happen for no apparent reason, and it shakes them up. They don’t want to think about it. I don’t blame them, I guess.
The difference between everyone else and us, however, is that they CAN hide and not think about it. We cannot.
That said, I have no pearls of wisdom, but I hope – like Jen said – that it gives you some ease to know that what you’re going through is normal and you’re not alone.
Another irony of our “new normal” is that while many of us must spare our loved ones the fear & inner dialogue, doing so often makes this mental state all the harder to take, because you feel so isolated, which, in turn, makes the fear greater. Total catch-22 and it makes me crazy.
That’s why BFAC is so wonderful. We can help each other, all of us. This site is such a gift. Jill is always in my heart for creating this virtual safehouse for us.
Do something nice for yourself today, anything that might take your mind off it for an hour (and hopefully longer). I’m going to go walk my dog, who listens and never gets tired of my fears. ;)
Inner talking can be a drag so we need to focus on the positive. Do things to help others, stop yourself from thinking the negative thoughts (it is hard I know, I struggle with it, too), watch funny movies, read, exercise, take up some kind of craft, journal, and pray, pray, pray! I think we all go through this.
Stay strong…the c word is not a welcome one. It will be a art of us forever I think. Thanks for sharing, I’m getting my 6th out of 8 chemo tomorrow so my journey has a long way to go yet even when it’s over.
Thanks and take care,
Doreen
You sound normal…or I am equally not normal…you can decide. I am just over 5 years into surviving and my anxiety about relapse is getting better and better. I hope it never goes away so I never again take the next breath or day or whatever for granted. That being said it does get better and less overwhelming with time.
I will keep you in prayer and remember this is a great place to run too when you can’t tell your loved ones that you are freaking out about what ifs and maybes we all understand and have had those moments.
Big hugs
Mac
For what we went through, I think we are allowed to have fears. We all have our fears of some sort. Some are same as yours and some different. Currently, mine is going back to work and not remembering all of my job (I waslearning new things). I try to get through my different fears by repeating “I can get through all things through Christ who strengthens me – even this.” And prayer. It can be calming. Sometimes just going for a walk gets my mind on other things and not the fear of whatever.
Hugs and prayers for you, Sandyjo
Hi Kelly,
I believe this is normal for us. I like to come here as it is one of the only places where there are people who will understand this. I too also get angry with people living cancer free lives for granted. I try to resist it whenever possible and just remember to appreciate what I have. Take a minute out of the day to try to think of what I really want to do with this life and try to act on it. I know it sucks to keep feeling that we may relapse, but I also feel that at least with this monitoring it will not be allowed to get out of control.
Take Care,
Jeff
I sent you hug and am traveling the same path as you. I take a break from BFAC when I feel like I’m obsessing a little too much with cancer. But sometimes I still want to find out all I can about replase. The questions come fast and furious. Would a relapse be in the same spot? I spend a lot of time checking my nodes. “I touch myself” could be my theme song :-)
I’m confident things will get better. Each visit to the cancer center is a little easier and I know this will continue.
Thanks to all of you. It is so comforting to have such a phenomenal group of companions while we are on such a tough journey. People always say to me “you’re so strong!” and my response is that we do what we have to do when the going gets tough! Have a support group like you makes me strong :)
Danell – you made me laugh out loud. I have developed this bad habit of checking the lymphnodes in my neck while sitting in traffic. People are probably looking at me like “what a weirdo!”
Happy holidays to each of you.
I really admire your courage in posting this Kelly. It’s certainly out of most people’s comfort zone to even think about non-cancer jealousy, let alone admit that it seems to “come with the territory”.
Of course it really is impossible to know whether or not anyone else takes their cancer free existence for granted, but it’s way too easy to imagine that they do.
I wish there were a magic forum to help family discussion. Sometimes it’s a damned f’ng miracle when loved ones can listen and not be frightened, or “bored”, or in denial, etc. When anyone can be present and simply listen I am in awe. That’s a huge part of the miracle that is BFAC, and why I call Jill our Patron Goddess.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not my “lack” of communication skills, which prevents my sister from hearing how I’ve dealt with her non-support. She takes it as a judgement about her, rather than a story about my personal growth.
Cancer seems designed to make us feel crazy. Yet somehow we learn to roll with the punches and choreograph our own dance of sanity.
Hugs, Nicole
Hi
I know how you feel, I finished my treatments ten days ago and my next appointment with doctor is in March and I’m panicking and scared that something will go wrong.
Reading stuff in the internet. I guess most people with cancer have moments like this, I just hope they will ease with time.
Maybe we should allow ourselves 15 minutes daily for worry and fear and after that just enjoy every moment.
Best wishes and fear free times
Maya
Kelly,
They say these feelings are normal. Its our new crazy “Normal” ups and downs…in and out of fear, a lot of times keeping our thoughts to ourselves, as others seem to get upset if you talk about things like this….we seem to have to be stronger.
My brother in law had cancer 30 years ago.The slower NHL. To this day he continues to be checked every 6 months, he even suffered a relapse, that they got under control. But, he says he prefers the heavy monitoring ….”its a life”. He has seen his two children get married, and now has three beautiful grandchildren…he is 71 years old, and very proud of it. I just hope I can be as strong as he is.
I so agree with John’s Wife…she is right..we need to keep our heads up high..
Stay strong, Kelly.
Love to you,
Claudya
Just wanted to try to give you a little encouragement. I have had Breast Cancer twice. The first time in 1994 and again in 2005. If I can be of any help to you or if you need to talk, I will be more than happy to help you in any way I can. I know it is hard but please just hang in there and don’t give up.
Love, hugs, prayers and blessings,
Joyce In NC
This is one thing that makes me feel better: when I see someone who is a quadraplegic. Or, I see another soldier with traumatic brain injury. It doesn’t lessen what you and I are going through necessarily, but it does put things in perspective.
I am grateful I can still walk—and work. I get mad when I experience pain that I feel shouldn’t be there anymore-or, when I have an “oops.” Nonetheless, I can walk. I can talk (much to the chagrin of others), etc.
It is natural to be paranoid because you want the cancer GONE! FOREVER! Here’s a hug. HUG! BTW, the wig looks great (if that’s a wig.)
Carol
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