The Terror
I wish I knew how to stop it. It is a subject that is often talked about in my support group meetings, but...so far...none of us has a good remedy. It happens randomly and can be debilitating.
It happened to me after I went to bed on Saturday night. I awakened at 2 in the morning and it suddenly hurt every time I took a deep breath.
That hadn't happened in months. It first started happening in the late Summer, right before I found out that my breast cancer had metastisized. I was having breakfast with my sister in a cafe and realized that it hurt whenever I took a deep breath. I mentioned it to her.
Probably no big deal, we decided. Maybe a touch of pleurisy. It was like having a stitch in the middle of my chest. Like when you run very fast and it hurts to breathe. It wasn't noticeable as long as I took small, shallow breaths. This lasted for a few days. Then, just as I was about to call my doctor and make an appointment, it disappeared as quickly as it came.
I sighed with relief. An overreaction.
But, it kept happening every few weeks. And then would go away. I shrugged. It was kind of like that back pain I kept getting, where I suddenly would have such severe pain that I walked hunched over. It came and went. Getting old, I thought. Developing old lady quirks.
And then I found out that I had a lesion in the center of my chest. Cancer. Growing. And another on my spine.
I began treatment. Chemo shots and oral pills. My cancer markers started going down. The back pain lessened. The occasional pain when I took a deep breath stopped. For the first time, I thought that maybe that pain might have been connected to the cancer.
And it was working! The pain was getting better.
And then, the cancer markers started creeping up again. I tried to keep a good face on things. Okay. Don't panic. My oncologist told me that because I had recently had a kidney infection, this could be the reason for the cancer markers going up. We treated the infection. It healed. Now, we just had to watch and wait and see if the cancer markers started to go back down. If not, we would try a different treatment.
So, that is where I am. Watch and Wait. I can't tell you how much I hate those three words.
And then, waking up in the middle of the night with the pain on deep breathing.
I never knew if the pain and the cancer were related. All I really knew was that the pain stopped after I started treatment. Yet, I still occasionally had severe back pain.
Did this mean that the cancer was growing again? I lay still as a stone in our bed, carefully breathing. In and out. In and out. I closed my eyes.
And imagined that lesion that had been shrinking slowly and surely....growing.
I sat up, silently weeping. Head in hands.
No. Just no. Calm the fuck down. It was probably nothing. Just an old ailment come to call again. Probably nothing to do with cancer.
And that is the rub. The terror. What we cancer fighters face. Is that new pain something to worry about? Should I call the oncologist?
Our lives are constantly in flux. There is constant fear. Sometimes we can mask it, sometimes fight it away. Sometimes, I can even convince myself that I don't give a damn. Let the torpedoes come. See if I care. I can brace myself for anything.
And then at a stray 2 a.m....the terror comes in.
One woman in my group prays. Another calls her sister. Another takes hot baths. Drinks cups of tea. We all have our coping mechanisms.
Yet, none of us are spared the terrors.
The pain stayed with me all day on Sunday and I awoke with it this morning, but it was fading. Now, it is gone.
I faithfully chug my water. I try to get lost in my book. I watch 4 episodes of Friends in a row. Now, I am getting ready to go get a coffee.
I would love to skip this dance but I have no idea how to accomplish this. So...I just keep moving. We all just keep moving. We go to group and when it is our turn to talk, we tentatively say in our quietest voice, "The terror came back last night. My lungs hurt..."
Or..."I had that lump in my throat again." Or....."My foot started to swell up again." Or..." My stomach hurt on that right side again."
We all have our own terror. What helps is to see the faces around the circle nodding. We are not alone. We are so alone. We are alone, but not alone. There are others holding out hands.
And so it goes.
It happened to me after I went to bed on Saturday night. I awakened at 2 in the morning and it suddenly hurt every time I took a deep breath.
That hadn't happened in months. It first started happening in the late Summer, right before I found out that my breast cancer had metastisized. I was having breakfast with my sister in a cafe and realized that it hurt whenever I took a deep breath. I mentioned it to her.
Probably no big deal, we decided. Maybe a touch of pleurisy. It was like having a stitch in the middle of my chest. Like when you run very fast and it hurts to breathe. It wasn't noticeable as long as I took small, shallow breaths. This lasted for a few days. Then, just as I was about to call my doctor and make an appointment, it disappeared as quickly as it came.
I sighed with relief. An overreaction.
But, it kept happening every few weeks. And then would go away. I shrugged. It was kind of like that back pain I kept getting, where I suddenly would have such severe pain that I walked hunched over. It came and went. Getting old, I thought. Developing old lady quirks.
And then I found out that I had a lesion in the center of my chest. Cancer. Growing. And another on my spine.
I began treatment. Chemo shots and oral pills. My cancer markers started going down. The back pain lessened. The occasional pain when I took a deep breath stopped. For the first time, I thought that maybe that pain might have been connected to the cancer.
And it was working! The pain was getting better.
And then, the cancer markers started creeping up again. I tried to keep a good face on things. Okay. Don't panic. My oncologist told me that because I had recently had a kidney infection, this could be the reason for the cancer markers going up. We treated the infection. It healed. Now, we just had to watch and wait and see if the cancer markers started to go back down. If not, we would try a different treatment.
So, that is where I am. Watch and Wait. I can't tell you how much I hate those three words.
And then, waking up in the middle of the night with the pain on deep breathing.
I never knew if the pain and the cancer were related. All I really knew was that the pain stopped after I started treatment. Yet, I still occasionally had severe back pain.
Did this mean that the cancer was growing again? I lay still as a stone in our bed, carefully breathing. In and out. In and out. I closed my eyes.
And imagined that lesion that had been shrinking slowly and surely....growing.
I sat up, silently weeping. Head in hands.
No. Just no. Calm the fuck down. It was probably nothing. Just an old ailment come to call again. Probably nothing to do with cancer.
And that is the rub. The terror. What we cancer fighters face. Is that new pain something to worry about? Should I call the oncologist?
Our lives are constantly in flux. There is constant fear. Sometimes we can mask it, sometimes fight it away. Sometimes, I can even convince myself that I don't give a damn. Let the torpedoes come. See if I care. I can brace myself for anything.
And then at a stray 2 a.m....the terror comes in.
One woman in my group prays. Another calls her sister. Another takes hot baths. Drinks cups of tea. We all have our coping mechanisms.
Yet, none of us are spared the terrors.
The pain stayed with me all day on Sunday and I awoke with it this morning, but it was fading. Now, it is gone.
I faithfully chug my water. I try to get lost in my book. I watch 4 episodes of Friends in a row. Now, I am getting ready to go get a coffee.
I would love to skip this dance but I have no idea how to accomplish this. So...I just keep moving. We all just keep moving. We go to group and when it is our turn to talk, we tentatively say in our quietest voice, "The terror came back last night. My lungs hurt..."
Or..."I had that lump in my throat again." Or....."My foot started to swell up again." Or..." My stomach hurt on that right side again."
We all have our own terror. What helps is to see the faces around the circle nodding. We are not alone. We are so alone. We are alone, but not alone. There are others holding out hands.
And so it goes.
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