The Queen, the Well, and the Beast
- Stephanie Partridge
- Oct 25, 2023
- 5 min read
There once was a queen named Penny. She joyfully served her kingdom and they served her as well. The castle was well kept, the grounds cared for, and all within and without worked beautifully. After years as the castle steward, the Queen discovered a broken well. "How could this be? I have always cared for the castle and the wells that sustain the life within." She sought help from a trusted mender of wells, Sir Oncalet. From him she learned that it was no fault of her own, yet a hidden danger within the waters themselves; one she could not have planned for or foreseen.
Sir Oncelot told her the only way to amend the broken well, "You must climb down into the bottom of the well."
"But it is dark." the queen retorted.
"You're King will provide you light."
"But I am afraid."
"As many have been that have gone before," he continued. "From the depths below, among the flowing cold waters, you must fight a beast. A horrible beast that poisons the water, leaching into the soil and attaching itself to everything in its path. He will not leave you untouched and cause you incredible pain."
A tear formed on the inner corners of the queen's determined eyes as she sought the king for comfort, "This beast will abuse me, but I will fight, and if I win will I be rid of him for good?"
Sir Oncelot looked down, knowing the many others he had helped along the way. "When the battle is won, we will celebrate and the kingdom and castle will return to its glory." The king and queen smiled hopefully. "Just know that once you've fought this beast, you will never be the same. The beast's inflicted scars will be a permanent reminder of your victory and also of your pain. To ensure that it doesn't return, you must come to the well each day and look down for a glance at the waters." he continued, "Every six months you must climb down into the darkness, all the way to the bottom, and feel the cold water soaking your feet and make sure the beast has not returned."
The queen wiped the fallen tears from her cheeks, and hand-in-hand with the king, walked the narrow pebble path to the broken well. She knew it was the only way to protect her castle.
I was diagnosed with invasive breast cancer in March of 2015, while 16 weeks pregnant with our fifth son. While pregnant I had a lumpectomy surgery, 5 rounds of dose-dense chemotherapy, and multiple specialists and doctor's appointments. My baby was delivered via c-section 3 weeks after my fifth chemotherapy session. I was bald at the time, and seeing my baby's full head of hair was a heaven-sent tender mercy. I knew the chemo did not reach him. After 2 weeks of enjoying our newborn, I returned for more rounds of chemotherapy, followed by bilateral mastectomies, 25 sessions of radiation, reconstructive surgery, radical hysterectomy, 'maintenance' chemo injections every three weeks for a year, and a daily hormone inhibitor pill that I am to take for 10 years. It's been 8 years since my battle and I am so incredibly grateful for each birthday, each core memory I've been a part of with my children, each date night and laugh with my husband, and for the person I have become because of this fight. Cancer has changed me; I am not the same person I was. I am more capable. I am stronger. I am more confident. I can honestly say that I am grateful for the experience of fighting the beast and winning. I've had so much life lived of laughter, love, and fun over the past 8 years with people I love.
I can also recognize the real PTSD caused by this trauma in my life. Every time I look in the mirror and every time I take my pill in the morning, I remember. It's a small moment and not one I dwell on long, but it's just there - waving "Hi, don't forget me," each day. However, every six months I go in to take tests, have blood drawn, and meet with the oncologist waiting to hear if I'm free of the beast or if it's returned. These bi-annual check-ins cause real anxiety for a few weeks leading up to the appointment. A little over a month ago was one of these check-ins.
I had my regular blood draw in preparation for my appointment. My oncologist called to tell me that some of my numbers were concerning. This has happened before, but was just a matter of getting some more blood work done. This time, he ordered a Nuclear Medicine exam, more blood work, and a PET scan. I haven't had a Nuc. Med. scan since being diagnosed 8 years ago. It was like climbing down to the bottom of the well and sitting in the icy, cold dark waiting -- waiting is always the worst of it all. Meanwhile, my husband was battling a re-ruptured herniated disc and was awaiting surgery. Caring for him actually made my stress and anxiety lesson. We just had too many things to worry about. PTSD could take it's turn. After some lost sleep, some tears, and a lot of prayer, it was time to see the oncologist. The second he walked into the room, he could see the worry in my eyes and immediately assured, "You are fine. The tests are fine." It's all I needed for my shoulders to loosen and my grasp on my husband's hand to soften. That was it, weeks of worry and anxiety gone. So, why were my numbers off? It turns out I have arthritis, and the test results show the same spikes and dips in some blood markers as metastatic cancer. I've never been so grateful to have arthritis!
This is the side of cancer that people don't know and don't see. It's the "after party" cleanup that no one wants to talk about. It's after the "Cancer Free!" party is over and the balloons are popped, when one survivor sits with themselves and sees the path ahead is not "back to normal." I was wisely told once that I should never expect to be "back to normal," it doesn't exist. There is only moving forward with a new self. It's taken me years, but in some ways I like my new self much more than my pre-cancer self.
No, this isn't a light and fluffy post with a happy ending, but I also hope this isn't a depressing post either. This is just how it is. Real life is vulnerable and filled with dips and rises in emotion, healing, love, and pain. Life, with it's variety and change, is beautiful just the way it is.
Remember to see a doctor regularly and check yourself for abnormal bumps lumps, dips, and other abnormalities.
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