Three years ago today I was told I had cancer, again. It was a different feeling from the first time. The first time was filled with hollow panic and the noise of fear... trying to understand what was happening to me, not knowing what they were going to do to me, what does a "poorer prognosis because of estrogen negative" mean?
The second time I had only silence. I knew what was ahead. I knew what I had to do. I didn't know how "bad" or "good" this new cancer was, but I knew I was mad as hell. It turned out to be a pretty big deal requiring bilateral mastectomy, nine months of chemotherapy, radiation, reconstruction, endocrine therapy and so much more. But I got through it, again.
In September I will reach the nine year mark of my first diagnosis, the "bad" one. Today is the third year mark of Round Two. From what I can tell, at this very moment, NED is still with me, and we are still dancing.
I am so happy just to dance with you, NED.