Where do I start? Where do I even fucking start?
My mental health was deteriorating greatly as a result of the chemotherapy-induced menopause and all of the symptoms that came along with it. After speaking with my gynecologist, I made the difficult decision to go on estrogen therapy to help me find some sort of normality. A consultation with my oncologist confirmed that this course of action was definitely preferable to the path that I was on, which was – I hesitate to say – one that may have resulted in suicide.
After three weeks on the estrogen patch and nightly progesterone pills, I was again sleeping through the night, my mood had improved, all hot flashes had completely stopped, and I finally, after two years, felt like myself again. I was happy, my gynecologist was happy, and my oncologist was happy. Of course, this was too good to be true.
On Saturday, I scratched my ear and found that I had dried blood in my ear canal. I almost made a doctor’s appointment that day, but decided to wait and see if it recurred. I had no evidence of blood in my ear on Sunday, so didn’t think about it, but on Monday I found blood in my ear again. I went in to see the express care physician at Walgreens, and she said that I had an irregular mole in my ear that would have been concerning on its own, but the blood made it especially worry some. She suggested I go see my dermatologist for a biopsy. I was able to get into see my dermatologist yesterday, but the dermatologist does not even have an otoscope, so couldn’t see the mole, which is deep inside of my ear. I then had to make an appointment with an ENT. I have that appointment this afternoon. I hope that it is not cancer, but if it is, I hope it is not a reoccurrence of my breast cancer, but instead a new kind of cancer. What a horrible fucking thing to hope for.
In the meantime, on Friday, my period started. In the old days, this would have been cause for celebration, but now that I’m on hormone therapy, it’s actually a bad thing – you’re not supposed to bleed if you’re in menopause and on daily progesterone. I called my gynecologist on Monday and left a message for the nurse. The nurse did not call me back, so I called back again today, to find out that the nurse will not be in again until Tuesday, and neither will my doctor. I told the receptionist that I needed to speak to someone, because I had left message on Monday and I didn’t feel like waiting over a week to talk about the bleeding I am having. My gynecologist called back and left me a message on my voicemail line, stating that I would need to have an ultrasound and an endometrial biopsy since I am on tamoxifen and hormone therapy. I am on not on tamoxifen, and I have no fucking idea where she got the idea that I am. Right now I just feel helpless, hopeless, bullied by the medical system, and ultimately, scared.
I’m so tired of living this way.