Post traumatic stress disorder after cancer survival is real!
"Your cured, you should be happy." is the answer I got when I visited my oncologist for a follow up but the nurse had moved up my appointment because I called her in tears and told her I thought something was wrong because I was crying all the time. "I feel like I'm on a sinking ship." I told her. She understood. She had been thru cancer herself years before.
I didn't know what was wrong with me. Sure, I had been thru a war, hell and back basically and I had done it all with a smile on my face, taking care of my 3 girls and keeping my eyes on the finish line. But when the finish line came, I wasn't finished.
September 9th I had what I thought would be my last surgery. I had braved the path of 5 surgeries, 4 rounds of chemo and then when I thought it was all wrapped up in a nice neat bow, even my "last" surgery had been scheduled for a year to the day of my first surgery. Then 9 days later the hematoma broke loose and hell came with it. I lost a liter of blood and I became broken. My wall fell down and the waters that had been being help back started to flood my life. I cried at the drop of a hat, I was short with my husband, moody. I cried folding laundry because "how am I ever going to get a job, I'm not good at anything?" I was exhausted because the hot flashes and my mind kept me awake at night.
When I saw my primary care doctor she was sympathetic, she has been from the first time I saw her before I was diagnosed. She said I had PTSD and it's no wonder after what I had been thru. She put me on a low dose anti-anxiety medication and I was a new person. She said not to worry, the further I get away from the surgeries the better I will feel. I'm still forging ahead and trying to keep my head in the right place. It's a marathon not a race, even if from the first appointment with my surgeon, I had my eye on the finish line.
I didn't know what was wrong with me. Sure, I had been thru a war, hell and back basically and I had done it all with a smile on my face, taking care of my 3 girls and keeping my eyes on the finish line. But when the finish line came, I wasn't finished.
September 9th I had what I thought would be my last surgery. I had braved the path of 5 surgeries, 4 rounds of chemo and then when I thought it was all wrapped up in a nice neat bow, even my "last" surgery had been scheduled for a year to the day of my first surgery. Then 9 days later the hematoma broke loose and hell came with it. I lost a liter of blood and I became broken. My wall fell down and the waters that had been being help back started to flood my life. I cried at the drop of a hat, I was short with my husband, moody. I cried folding laundry because "how am I ever going to get a job, I'm not good at anything?" I was exhausted because the hot flashes and my mind kept me awake at night.
When I saw my primary care doctor she was sympathetic, she has been from the first time I saw her before I was diagnosed. She said I had PTSD and it's no wonder after what I had been thru. She put me on a low dose anti-anxiety medication and I was a new person. She said not to worry, the further I get away from the surgeries the better I will feel. I'm still forging ahead and trying to keep my head in the right place. It's a marathon not a race, even if from the first appointment with my surgeon, I had my eye on the finish line.
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