Returning To Work After My Mastectomy and Radiation Therapy

Returning to work after a mastectomy and radiation therapy is hard

Last week was my first week back at work. I'm working part-time hours until I regain enough stamina and physical strength to handle a full day. I've been anxious and hesitant to return to work. Anxious because I'm a bit bored at home every day and hesitant because I am worried that I won't be as good as before. If you haven't figured out by now, I am constantly worried about something. (laughs) I guess its part of my charming personality.

The week actually was ok. More difficult than I imagined it would be but my colleagues were more generous than I imagined they would be, so it balanced out. When my doctor said that I could return and that I should work part-time for a few weeks or so, I thought he was being overly cautious. I thought that he and I were underestimating my ability and desire to return to normal life. I was so wrong.

Take it from me: You have to go slow, take it easy and follow your doctor's directions

Day one: 

The first day, I lasted about 30 minutes. It took me longer to get to work and to get home than I actually worked. I was tired, but mostly I was overwhelmed. There was so much that I had forgotten, so much that seemed so foreign. It was hard physically and really hard emotionally. I had not warned anyone that I was coming into the office, so they weren't prepared for me either. Everyone was very warm and nice but I felt oddly out of place. Since I had an appointment to see the radiation oncologist that afternoon, I took the opportunity to leave while I still felt that I had enough energy to get through the appointment and back home.

Day two: 

The second day, I lasted a little longer, just about an hour or so. But Wednesday proved to be even more challenging that Tuesday emotionally. I did very little, but it took me a long time to do that. When I realized that I was becoming really tired, I left. The surprise of being so tired while having done so little overtook me as soon as I walked out of my building and I found myself crying on the corner like a lost child.

Crying because I lost so much of myself and I don't know who I am anymore

Interestingly enough, I had the same feeling the day before but I shook off the tears before they came. But I couldn't hold them back on Wednesday and it took a long time for me to get myself together. Sadness, frustration and general anger... is what made me cry. The sadness about all that I've been through, and all that I'm still going through was amazing. And its even more amazing that it just doesn't seem to ever completely go away, no matter how many good days and happy moments I do have. Frustration at the notion that working a few hours is just where I am right now. And anger about the whole deal. I needed a hug badly on Wednesday... but I was too timid to ask the person I wanted it from the most to simply wrap his arms around me and hold me tight. So I went without the hug.

I am hopeful that this week at work will be a little better. I rested a lot this weekend and I hope that it will make a difference in the amount of stamina I have for work. But I know this much, afternoon naps are the best! Everyday last week I crawled right into bed as soon as I walked into the house. And napped for a few hours. On Thursday when I was leaving the office, the intern asked me what I was going to do when I got home. I smiled and said... I'm taking a nap! He told me he was jealous.

Sadly, I was jealous of him for a moment too. Because he didn't need a nap. He didn't need someone to help him to move a box or two like I did as I tried to find some files for him. Luckily it passed quickly. The truth is that I wouldn't trade places with anyone else in the world... even with breast cancer.

I want to be better, so I am going to do everything in my power to be better

This week will be an interesting test of will. I want to be able to work my full 4 hours each day. (laughs) It sounds crazy to even say that, but its true. I have chemotherapy on Wednesday - my herceptin infusion. (I still don't like that word, infusion -- it still makes me think of tea or liquor) I will not work that day. For a brief moment, I thought that I would go to work after my treatment -- I don't even know why I felt that. Actually, I do. I have something to prove, to others and to myself. And when I can't do it, I feel like a complete failure. But I do a little more each time than I did the time before, so my failure rate is going down. That's something to be grateful for.

Compared to how I felt during those dark days last fall of chemotherapy -- I feel like a million bucks. My fingernails have all grown back - and only the tips of a few are discolored. For the most part, they are healthy and clear -- a sign of good health. My skin isn't as dry and papery as it used to be either. The radiated area is still discolored but the radiation oncologist said that it looked fine and was healing well. She wants to see me in 6 months, so I'm taking that as a sign that everything is okay. I have hair on my head (and other places too) again, another sign that I'm healthy. All in all, beyond this fatigue, I do feel good.

Heck, I made breakfast for the family today and served everyone in bed. :) Not a big deal for most but a huge deal for me. Somedays just walking up the stairs myself takes all the wind out of my sails. Today I stood over a stove for about 40 minutes making pancakes, eggs and sausage, and then carried it upstairs for my folks. I was proud of myself. Well, proud of the effort; the actual meal -- eh. Definitely not my best work. I'm very out of practice. (laughs)

Returning to work while I complete my treatment means I have to learn to balance everything

I'm waiting to hear from the geneticist at GW Hospital. Hopefully, I can get the genetic testing done for the breast cancer gene pretty soon. I'd like to schedule my reconstruction surgery within the next month. Even though I won't be having the surgery for another 3 or 4 months, I'd like to get on the calendar now so that I can start preparing mentally for it.

A dream deferred? Maybe...

I spoke with the radiation oncologist about the possibility of having kids after all of this was said and done... and she seemed guarded about it. Since reproduction isn't her area of expertise I think she wanted to keep my expectations low but she did tell me (yet again) not to get pregnant while I'm still in treatment. It always makes me smirk when someone asks me if I could be pregnant (the nurses ask me every time I go for chemo) or when one of the doctors tell me not to get pregnant. Beyond the fact that I haven't been intimate in forever... there is the issue that they shut down my ovaries last fall. Sorta hard to get pregnant when your ovaries aren't functioning.

So I smirk. And then respond that I'm taking all precautions not to get pregnant. (laughs)

My hot flashes tell me that my estrogen production is low. My lack of a menstrual cycle tells me that my ovaries are not releasing any eggs. So... yeah. (gas face) Its gonna take a miracle and probably thousands of dollars that I don't have -- in order for me to give birth anytime soon. (shrug) Oh well. Just another obstacle on the path. I'll get beyond it when its time to do so.

I have faith. I guess its time for me to try to sleep. I may only have to work a few hours but I need to be there on time. Have a happy week. I plan to.

Recap: What I have learned so far

Since my diagnosis, I have been trying my best to get "back" to myself and my life before my diagnosis. Chemotherapy changed me. My mastectomy changed me again. And getting through radiation therapy has been extremely difficult. I've been in and out of the hospital so much, that all I dream about is the boring normalcy of going back to work, not being on disability insurance and getting back to life hanging with my friends and just enjoying my life. However, the reality is that being diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer is no tiny thing. And going through 4 months of chemotherapy, losing an entire breast and then experiencing almost 2 months of daily radiation means that I am not the girl I used to be. I may never be her again. And somehow, I have to adapt to that, learn to follow my medical team's directions completely and put the rest in God's hands. There are no clear answers right now. I guess clarity will come later when I review all that I've been through. But for now, instead of feeling like a failure because I could only work for an hour or two... I have to see it as a win that I could leave my home on my own, navigate public transportation for an hour, arrive downtown in one piece and then give my best to my office for as long as my body can handle it... and then reverse the trip. Alone. For someone who has spent the majority of the past 9 months practically bedridden, that's a major accomplishment. Not a failure. Getting stronger will come. Giving myself some grace is what's needed.

This blog post may contain affiliate links for items to purchase. Using these lnks will result in a commission for the blog. Using these links will not increase any price you pay. I'll be grateful if you click the links though... the money earned helps to keep this blog up and running. Thanks!