Things I keep getting asked

Turns out a lot of people don't really know anything about metastatic breast cancer.  Not even a little surprising, because really, why would you?  But relatives have been calling to let me know they're praying and sending good wishes (which is really nice).  But tied in with that are a lot of questions that are starting to wear on my already kind of occupied mind these days.

Curious what people ask, directly or kind of veiled?  Well, I have you covered because here's the list of what I keep correcting, don't want to talk about, and/or would like to say but probably won't. 

• No, they aren't sure it's cancer until the biopsy, but there are just not that many things that look like cancer on a PET scan, and I have this kind of bad cancer that can spread, so it's looking that way, but we'll see.
• No, it isn't bone cancer.  No, really, what they're talking about is in the bone but it's not bone cancer.  It's breast cancer cells that have broken off from my original tumors and colonized on a bone.  But that still doesn't make it bone cancer.
• I don't need a bone marrow transplant.  If you offered to be tested, let me tell you I love you and I appreciate that you want to help, but, unfortunately, that's not going to cure me (Also, I don't think a bone marrow transplant would cure bone cancer, either, but I don't know that much about it).
•  No, it doesn't mean I got poor quality medical care with my first treatments and really should have gone somewhere else. I really did receive the nationally recommended care and treatment for what I had.  From smart people.  I always knew it had a 1 in 3 chance of coming back, even with the high quality care I received from well trained medical professionals. Also, I resent that question.  A lot.
• I'm not going to "get through this."  I totally appreciate the kind words, but if this turns out to be what they think it is, it isn't going to be like last time.  There isn't a defined set of treatments after which it's over when you're dealing with metastatic cancer.  This time it turns into ongoing efforts to keep it from spreading while at the same time the cancer keeps developing ways to get past the ongoing efforts to keep it from spreading.  I will live with it, hopefully for a very long time, but there is no "after" when you're talking stage IV. 
• I totally don't know what to say.  I know cancer patients are supposed to be super wise and philosophical, but I seem to have missed cancer-patient class the day they told us how to do that.  I'm wavering between denial, fear, depression, normalcy, and being completely overwhelmed, and at the same time feeling like I should make everyone who's concerned about me feel better.  But, honestly?  I have no idea how to get through this or what to tell people or how to react when people talk to me about how I'm doing or how I'm feeling or anything else related to this.  I wish I did, but I don't.  Also, you must have noticed I'm actually really awkward even on a good day, so I don't think awkwardness now can be that much of a surprise.

I am doing ok trying to figure things out a bit.  I vividly remember feeling the same sort of waves of on and off feelings and emotions and "how am I ever going to feel normal again" thoughts after the original diagnosis, but somehow I did "get through it" (see what I did there?).  Not sure how I'll ever get my head around this, but for now I'm doing ok.

Also, really, I promise you, it it's almost certainly breast cancer spread to my bones, not bone cancer.  Yes, breast cancer to the bones does happen, it's kind of what breast cancer does.