I posted this in group that I am part of. I did that because fellow group members, one in particular, said they understood what I was going through. They don't. Yes, there's a bit of passive-aggressive here if you look. Hopefully it's a kind way of saying they don't really understand. I decided to share it here because it's information that needs to be known. You know how I feel about the pink messaging around breast cancer.
Please read this if you want to understand metastatic breast cancer. It is a different journey than regular breast cancer. I imagine other metastatic cancers may have similar features. That being said, I can show empathy to someone with stage IV ovarian cancer. I don't actually know what it's like to live with it.
A diagnosis of MBC is a shock. Of course a breast cancer diagnosis is no walk in the park either. My mother died of MBC so you can imagine it was scary to get this diagnosis myself. I've already outlived her, thanks to excellent treatments. I didn't fully understand what it was like though, until I was going through it myself. I can't presume to understand what someone else is experiencing.
MBC means scans, usually nuclear bone scans and CTs, every three to four months. It means taking strong drugs for the rest of your life. It means dealing with harsh side effects for the rest of your life. It probably means fatigue. It may involve pain. It means worrying about scan results every few months. Will I see the magic word "stable" or the terrible word "progression". Will I still be here next year? In three years? Will I benefit more from new drugs or treatments that come about? Thankfully I am right now. Still, only 30% of people diagnosed live with MBC more than five years. Since I was probably MBC at diagnosis, or de novo, it will soon be six years.
I had a wonderful support group of women with MBC. We met for coffee or lunch every now and again, and had a messenger chat. Five years ago, ten or so of us met for lunch. Two of us are still alive. Three died since June. Grief is real. Sadly, death is part of such a support group.
This is the information:
Please read this if you want to understand metastatic breast cancer. It is a different journey than regular breast cancer. I imagine other metastatic cancers may have similar features. That being said, I can show empathy to someone with stage IV ovarian cancer. I don't actually know what it's like to live with it.
A diagnosis of MBC is a shock. Of course a breast cancer diagnosis is no walk in the park either. My mother died of MBC so you can imagine it was scary to get this diagnosis myself. I've already outlived her, thanks to excellent treatments. I didn't fully understand what it was like though, until I was going through it myself. I can't presume to understand what someone else is experiencing.
MBC means scans, usually nuclear bone scans and CTs, every three to four months. It means taking strong drugs for the rest of your life. It means dealing with harsh side effects for the rest of your life. It probably means fatigue. It may involve pain. It means worrying about scan results every few months. Will I see the magic word "stable" or the terrible word "progression". Will I still be here next year? In three years? Will I benefit more from new drugs or treatments that come about? Thankfully I am right now. Still, only 30% of people diagnosed live with MBC more than five years. Since I was probably MBC at diagnosis, or de novo, it will soon be six years.
I had a wonderful support group of women with MBC. We met for coffee or lunch every now and again, and had a messenger chat. Five years ago, ten or so of us met for lunch. Two of us are still alive. Three died since June. Grief is real. Sadly, death is part of such a support group.
This is the information:
Metastatic Breast Cancer Explained: Symptoms, Diagnosis & More
Metastatic breast cancer is also classified as Stage 4 breast cancer. The cancer has spread to other parts of the body like lungs, liver, bones, and brain.
www.nationalbreastcancer.org