July 13, 2023
In May I renewed my driver’s license. I remember, five years ago following my MBC diagnosis, this being high on the list of things I was pretty sure that I’d never do again. Since 75% of women diagnosed with Metastatic Breast Cancer don’t live beyond five years, I was fairly certain that I’d die before needing a new driver’s license.
But here I am, marking my five year “Cancerversary” new driver’s license and all. I am, of course, grateful and happy to have the extra time. Simultaneously though, I find myself a bit baffled about what it looks like to move beyond five years. There is mounting evidence that women with MBC are living longer and that new treatments are being developed at a more rapid pace. While I might not live to see a cure for MBC, there is hope that the disease will be treated as more of a chronic illness instead of a terminal one. As doctors and other women living with MBC have often shared with me: “The longer you live, the longer you’ll live.”
For Dan and me, though, questions still remain: How do we channel the energy we’ve spent getting ready to die into focusing even more on living fully? Can we move beyond thinking about living in three month chunks even as scans continue every three months? When faced with death, and then living beyond what was expected, how do you move forward? What does it take to live indefinitely on meds that often make you feel really crummy and fatigued? What’s our mind frame for this next stage? What even is this next stage?
So, we are taking this five year mark as a time of reflection (again) and renewal. Renewing our commitment to living each day with joy, intention, love and gratitude. To finding beauty in the small moments. To laughing a lot. To enjoying each other, our family and our friends. To new adventures. To serving our opportunities and not just our fears.
We are so grateful for all of the love and support we have received over these past five years. It’s not remotely an overstatement to say that we are only at a more grounded and hopeful space thanks to all of the care we have received from so many. And here’s the thing – we are going to keep needing that love and our community even past this five year mark. That’s hard for us to say out loud because we are both pretty bad at asking for help. But, we know that living with an incurable illness and treatment side effects is a grind. And we know that MBC is a sneaky disease. And we know that you can go years with stable scans and then WHAM. So while making it past this milestone is incredibly encouraging, and while we are more hopeful than at any point since July 13, 2018, we also remain fearful and realistic and uncertain, and all gloriously mixed up.
Here’s to five years. And to whatever is next. And to living and loving fully every day.
