I call this blog entry, The Princess and The Pea. No, it's not the fairytale by Hans Christian Andersen. As a refresher, that is a tale of a prince who wanted to marry a princess but could not find a suitable wife. He finds something wrong with all of the women he meets, and he is never sure if they are real princesses. One night, a woman comes to the prince's castle seeking shelter from the storm, and she claims to be a princess. The prince's mother decides to test her by placing a pea in her bed; a bed that is covered by 20 mattresses and 20 featherbeds. In the morning, the princess states that she was kept up all night by something in the bed that was hard and uncomfortable and caused her bruises. The prince is overjoyed, as only a real princess would have such delicate skin to be able to feel a pea through so much bedding. The two are then married, and as in all fairytales, I presume, they live happily ever after.
My story is a little bit different (although I hope that it ends in the same way, living happily ever after, whatever that may mean for me). This story of mine is not about me as a princess. The pea isn't what you'd expect either. Rather, when I went to see a surgeon this past summer to remove cancer that was growing inside me, she told me that it was so small that it was only the size of a pea. It could only be detected by mammogram. She said that because it was the size of a pea, it never would have been detectable just by feeling for it. She herself could not feel it, and I certainly was unaware of it before my mammogram. So I began to think of my situation as The Princess and the Pea. While I'm certainly not a princess, and the pea never actually brought me a prince, it did enable me to meet a lot of great people along my journey to seek shelter from a storm, just as it did for the princess in the fairytale.
I went through a lot because of that pea. Funny how something as little as a pea can cause so much trouble. There were a lot of tests and procedures, and a whole lot of doctors. I had surgery, which presented its own challenges, and then I had radiation therapy for six and a half weeks. Then came the big question, To Chemo Or Not To Chemo? After consultations with many doctors, I found my answer. As it turns out, there isn't one. My particular kind of pea doesn't necessarily benefit much from adding chemotherapy to the treatment plan. It may help a bit, but it may not help at all. Unfortunately, there's no crystal ball. So the good news is, I will be skipping the chemotherapy, and continue treatment with endocrine therapy alone (a pill I will take every day). And, of course, a whole lot of monitoring to make sure there are no other peas to be found.
So that brings me to the whole reason for today's blog. A chapter in my story has ended. I've learned a lot and I've been through a lot, and I haven't stopped moving forward. I've made new friends, some that will likely last a lifetime. I've also learned about the quality of the people I already have in my life (some have been incredible, while some unfortunately dropped off the radar). I've learned about what makes a doctor great, and also about what makes a great doctor. And if you've read my other blogs, I'm sure you've read about the many other things I've learned along the way.
So, the story of The Princess And The Pea continues...but the focus now is on the happily ever after, not on the aggravating little pea. As Hans Christian Andersen stated, "Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale." I'm ready for mine.
