Great news!

Had my four-monthly check-up with The Tango Man today and all is well. So relieved. Always nervewracking, especially considering I felt so well when I was diagnosed with cancer so I know that feeling great is not neccessarily any indication.
Now see him again in February, before which I have to have my annual mammogram, plus he is sending me for a chest x-ray and a abdominal scan. Guess I will be hyper hassled before all that but until then, can relax.
Two interesting things: he said that with tamoxifen, I shouldn't have taken calcium pills. "You didn't listen to me," he chastised. Well, I did and always do listen to him: he never told me although might have mentioned - or did I read it somewhere? - that tamoxifen helps the bones. Anyway, that kinda explains why my calcium was raised.
Then he also said that there was no need to take aspirin a week before and after flying. Just the day before the long flight, the day of the flight and the next day. He also said there was no need to wear special flight socks, like the nurse had told me to last year when I flew to Monaco.
Oh sad news is that darling, wonderful Joyce, the oncology nurse who called everyone "Poppie" has died. What a shock. Heard she had got sick, had had an ulcer, had a large part of her stomach cut away and now, Sister Emily tells me, she died. Can hardly believe it. Was about 30-something. Apparently leaves a 14-year-old daughter and that her husband had died when she was eight months pregnant.
What a bloody tragedy. And how ironic that she helped everyone get over and deal with their illnesses and so she helped save lives, yet now she is dead. Funeral was two weeks ago. I would have gone, I told Sister Emily, but apparently it was in Vryheid, which is pretty far away. If there is a memorial service - Emily said there would be - I will go. Hope it's not when I am away. Joyce helped me a lot and feel I must help her family in some way.....

Solved the calcium problem

It was with great relief that I heard the centre manager's voice on the phone yesterday. I was being phoned with the results of my blood tests done the day before, the ones which would check my calcium levels three weeks after stopping the calcium supplements, the ones which would tell me if had parathyroidism and needed an operation to have them removed.
Well if it was her on the phone, rather than The Sexy Doc, I clearly didn't need an operation, surely?
And I was right. So relieved that I barely asked for the results, she said my parathyroids were normal, my calcium was 2.56 instead of the normal rate of 2.55 but had clearly come down, I just had to stay off the calcium tabs. By implication my glucose was clearly also fine but there was no indication of what tests I had to have next, or when.
But I don't have to have an operation, my calcium is practically normal, and so I am relieved.
Had more blood tests today, this time for the oncologist I am seeing again on Monday for my four-monthly check-up. Now those better be ok too.

Has it taken over my life?

The happiness I felt at being told I was ok on Friday, after seeing The Tango Man for my four-monthly check-up, was kinda overtaken by what The Yoga Man said to me later that night.
He seemed really reluctant to discuss it - I was overjoyed, so relieved that I was still ok and also that I can now increase my cardio exercise by 5 minutes - that I was kinda miffed he didn't seem to share my enthusiasm and relief.
"Do you realise that not a day goes by when you don't talk about cancer?" he said. I was shocked. It doesn't feel that way at all. Yes, I was anxious about my check-up 'cos when I was diagnosed I felt perfect and had just had a mammogram and scan and been given the all-clear (under two months before I found a lump) and so I know that feeling fine means bugger-all; and yes, I have been anxious about developing lymphedema 'cos I am borderline and did spend about 6 weeks last year wearing a damn compression sleeve. But I have recently reduced my appointments with The Lymph Lady to every second week and feel that I am getting better about my anxiety re my arm.
Furthermore, it feels like the treatments like chemo and radiation and herceptin are becoming more of a distant memory, I barely complain about tamoxifen, so what's the big deal? I thought I am handling it fine.
Wrong, it appears. Every single day I say something about it, it appears, even if it's a "damn, I have to do my lymph (massage) now" or "shit my arm feels awful, look it's thicker here, what do you think?" or "oh no, listen to what happened to XXX... on her (cancer) blog she says.....".
Then to top it all I went to a breast cancer awareness breakfast today. Not that into going and find it ludicrous to dress up in pink for the occasion and wonder where the money actually goes, but I do enjoy it I guess although sometimes the speakers annoy me as they talk rubbish (the breast surgeons appear to the worst), but my sister goes with her friends and how they all know I have had breast cancer so how can I not go? And listening to a man talk about having had breast cancer was interesting.
Anyhow, The Yoga Man did ask how the breakfast went, which kinda surprised me.
However, it does appear I am not so "over it" as I thought. Oh well...