Is Cancer a Jabberwocky?

Sometimes we hear or say things about cancer that makes the experience feel like we are battling some evil being inside our bodies. Someone might say “I beat cancer” or “she lost her battle with cancer.” And for many that fight paradigm works for them, but for a lot of us, including me, it just doesn’t.

Cancer isn’t some jabberwocky that I can fight and eliminate. It wasn’t a jabberwocky before I had MBC and it most definitely isn’t now. And maybe for a reason you haven’t considered.

The Jabberwock, as illustrated by John Tenniel, 1871

Cancer is rogue cells, growing in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and at the wrong speed. It’s all wrong. I’m not wrong. My body isn’t wrong. It’s these unruly, sneaky, and intelligent cells that are wrong. So when someone dies from cancer they haven’t a lost battle — it’s a treatment that has failed the body and the person. Cancer has failed to respond appropriately to the medication.

In the past I have referred to my cancer’s behavior as that of an unwelcome guest in my body. I didn’t welcome it with open arms and I sure as hell am not making it cozy and well taken care of. In fact I am inviting many malicious and inhospitable pharmaceuticals into my body in hopes that cancer will behave and make itself small for as long as possible.

The medication I’m on is continuing to work and do it’s job. My most recent scans showed stable disease. Best news I could hope for on the cancer front!

Double masking and in a private isolation suite because of a recent covid exposure. Still testing negative though!

So yay! It’s been 3.5 years of abemaciclib, anastrozole, and all of the other drugs that keep the side effects of abema and anastrozole tolerable. It’s like I drank from the right vile from the talking table. The research said “Drink me” and I did. How much longer I have before the potion wears off is still unknown.

My blood work has been okay for the most part. I am dealing with “watch and wait” on a few items, but because the scans looked stable we just continue forward, watching and waiting until the next scan. As my NP said, we cannot do something about something that we cannot see [on the scans].

While we watch and wait life goes on. We have had some awesome news come our way on non-cancer stuff, the kids have been busy with school and sports, and I completed the BU genealogy certificate program. All things to be grateful and happy about.

In just a couple of short months our family will be flying off to Europe to try our hand at being Danish residents for six months. Yes, you read that correctly! Andrew will be on sabbatical and he was granted a Fulbright Fellowship to do some research while we are there. The kids will be in school and I’ll be taking Danish classes. I’ll fly back when I need to for things like Runway4Recovery and scans at Dana Farber.

Some folks that have heard this news have asked “why Denmark?” To which I reply, “why not?” As you know, we are doing as much as we can to make big wonderful memories as a family. Andrew and I have always dreamed about living abroad and Denmark presented itself as an opportunity to do that. It’s a big huge deal that we are excited and nervous about. Ultimately though, it aligns with our mission to say YES to adventures for as long as we are able. Because someday I won’t be able to say yes to it all.

And that’s my personal jabberwocky: the instinct to play it safe and to find easy ways to say no. Cancer reminds me that I am “sick,” covid slowed everyone’s world down, and society tells me to not take risks. I am a risk adverse person in general so that is a comfy place for me to be. But I also think cancer reminds me that there is so much life to live and memories to make. I want to be like Alice and defeat the jabberwocky. I want to keep saying yes to these adventures and to more memory making. As my friend Moni says “LFG!”

What’s your personal jabberwocky?

6 thoughts on “Is Cancer a Jabberwocky?

  1. Glad you’re still stable Hannah! Fingers crossed you get several more years on your current combo.

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  2. I am a newly diagnosed mom with mbc with a 2 year old baby girl. I felt very lonely until I saw your blogs. Thank you for sharing your stories. It gives me courage to keep going.

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