u/mooonsocket

Not doing well…

I’m wondering if anyone else experienced something like this after finishing chemo and having surgery, because I feel like I’m losing my mind a little bit.

I was diagnosed with stage III TNBC earlier this year in March and just spent the last six months going through 20 rounds of chemo/immunotherapy. I finished chemo in September and had my lumpectomy and lymph node surgery last Thursday.

I thought getting through surgery would feel like this huge relief. Everything following surgery was a blur immediately after and now, I have completely crashed mentally.

I’ve had this overwhelming sadness, anxiety and sense of impending doom that I cannot seem to shake. I wake up feeling anxious and depressed. I cry non stop and for seemingly no reason. My mind wanders through random memories from years ago that have absolutely no significance to me. I have trouble even focusing on a low-stimulation TV show because my brain just keeps going. I can’t read a book. I’m supposed to be relaxing and recovering and I can’t even do that right. Sometimes I just feel deeply sad and scared about my life, what has happened to me, not to mention the future, pathology, reoccurrence, etc.

The weirdest part is that this doesn’t feel like me at all. I’m normally a pretty positive, resilient person. I handled six months of treatment better mentally than I’m handling these few days after surgery.

I’m doing everything I can think of. I’m eating, hydrating, sleeping, showering, getting dressed, resting, talking to friends and taking my prescribed anxiety medication when I need it. I went out for a few grocery items and am going to try and get my nails done tomorrow or something. I reached out to my oncology team, and they said this could very well be cumulative after everything my body and brain have been through and offered to connect me with social work/resources.

I also know I’m still waiting on pathology and finding out whether I achieved pCR, so there’s obviously a huge amount of uncertainty hanging over me. And even though surgery was a major hurdle, I still have radiation, immunotherapy and whatever comes next depending on pathology.

But I genuinely was not prepared for this emotional crash.
Has anyone else had intense depression, anxiety, intrusive/existential thoughts or just felt completely mentally “off” in the days or weeks after surgery or finishing chemo?
If you did, how long did it last? Did you eventually start feeling like yourself again? Was there anything that actually helped?

I think more than anything I just need to hear that I’m not the only person who went through treatment in survival mode, finally got through a huge milestone, and then somehow fell apart afterward.

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u/mooonsocket — 8 days ago

Stage III TNBC: Tumor disappeared on imaging. Tell me your pCR stories. (And how did you choose lump vs. mast?)

Well… my mid-treatment imaging came back and I have incredible news, the mass is no longer visible. 🎉

Cue me immediately spiraling into Google, this subreddit, and every published paper known to mankind.

Yes, I know. Imaging is not pathology. I know the only way to know if I achieved pCR is after surgery. I know there can still be microscopic cancer hanging around having a little farewell party in there. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself.

But… this feels like a huge win after months of Keynote-522, weekly Taxol/Carbo, and now getting acquainted with the Red Devil himself (0/10, would not recommend).

For those of you who were diagnosed with Stage III TNBC, especially node-positive:
- Did your tumor disappear on imaging or become non-palpable?
- Did you end up achieving pCR?
- Did your doctors have a pretty good idea based on your scans and physical exams, or was surgery path a surprise?

Now for the thing that’s keeping me awake at 3 a.m…
Lumpectomy vs. mastectomy. I’ve searched this subreddit for hours. I’ve probably read every post on the topic. It seems like there are heartbreaking stories from both sides.

People who chose mastectomy and later regretted it because they realized it didn’t eliminate recurrence risk like they hoped or they hate their new chest. People who chose lumpectomy and later had a recurrence and wondered if they made the wrong choice.

My surgeon told me I’m a good candidate for a lumpectomy and that, based on current data, the recurrence rates are so close that this really comes down to personal preference. Which somehow feels… worse. I almost wish someone would just tell me what to do.

I am only 37. I still want another baby someday, even though cancer has made that dream feel a lot more complicated. I want the chance to breastfeed again if life somehow gives us that opportunity. I’m attached to my breasts, I’m just… not ready for a mastectomy.

So if you were in a similar situation, especially Stage III TNBC, I’d love to hear:
- Did you choose lumpectomy or mastectomy, and why?
- Do you still feel good about your decision?
- If you achieved pCR, did that influence your surgical choice?
- If you could go back, would you do anything differently?

Also, if anyone has a crystal ball that only predicts pathology reports, please let me know. Mine appears to be broken

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u/mooonsocket — 3 months ago

Can We Retire ‘How Are You?’ for a While?

I’m so tired of being asked, “How are you?” Immediately channeling my inner Dorinda from RHONY who said it best: “Not well, bitch.” IYKYK.

I’m not okay. I don’t think I’m going to be okay for a very long time, and that fucking sucks.

I still have roughly 10 months of treatment left (Stage III TNBC), and I haven’t even gotten to the Red Devil yet (starts in two weeks). Every week feels like a marathon I never signed up for (I do not even run). I’m sick all the time as in just not feeling like myself. Flu-like. Random fevers spiking. Stomach pain. Living in the bathroom. Nausea. Indigestion. Headaches. My eyes hurt. My white blood cell shots cause bone pain so bad it’s settled into my jaw and feels like someone punched me in the face. Eating hurts. Sleeping is a joke. I can’t taste or smell anything, so what’s even the point of food anymore? The fatigue is unreal. I could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. I’ve never been this tired in my life and I have a baby at home.

And honestly? I’m becoming someone I don’t even recognize. I’m impatient. Irritable. Mean.

My son is 21 months old and fully in his toddler era. My patience is hanging by a Cheeto crumb. My husband is carrying this family on his back while I spend most days completely out of commission. Meanwhile, my little boy keeps growing up and I feel like I’m missing pieces of his life. That’s the part that breaks me.

It’s not fucking fair.

I’m tired of being asked if I’m okay. I’m tired of the endless questions, by everyone. My mom means well, but sometimes I want to scream. Every doctor’s appointment is just question after question after question. How’s your fatigue? Any nausea? Pain? Bowel movements? Fever? Sleep?

Stop asking me questions.

I know people care. I know they’re trying to help. But I don’t want to explain how awful I feel for the hundredth time. Nothings changed. I’m STILL in this and will be for a very long time.

And here’s the ugly part nobody likes to admit.

I’m jealous.

My friend’s mom was diagnosed with Stage IB ER/PR+ breast cancer. She doesn’t even need chemo. And I’m sitting here with triple negative breast cancer getting pumped full of drugs every week, staring down more chemo, surgery, radiation, immunotherapy, and who knows what else.

Why couldn’t that be me?

I know comparison isn’t productive. I know cancer is cancer. I know nobody wins in this game.

But most days I am just so fucking angry.

I look in the mirror and don’t recognize myself. I’ve gained weight. I have no hair. I look sick because I am sick.

The highlight of my week was an esthetician telling me I had buttery soft skin.

That’s where we’re at.

I don’t really know what I’m looking for with this post. Maybe I just needed somewhere to say all of this out loud. Maybe I want someone to relate. Maybe I just want someone to say, “Yeah, this is bullshit.”

Because it is.

I have a therapist. I have support. I have family. I have friends. I have medications and a great oncology team who is truly doing doing their best. I know I’m luckier than a lot of people.

But I also completely understand why people get tired of fighting. And before anyone worries, I’m not giving up.

I’m just really, really fucking tired…

u/mooonsocket — 4 months ago