Waiting
You think I'd be used to it by now. The waiting.
On Thursday, I will get labs again. Along with a lot of other tests, I will get the tumor marker one again. The one that, 6 months ago rose above 60 points and I was nearly sick with fear. Since that time, it has risen to almost 2,000. The scans show that the cancer is not being stopped in any way, shape, or form. It just keeps spreading. My sternum, my liver, my spine. I am on a new chemo drug, Halaven, that is supposed to be quite powerful.
I am trying not to get my hopes up. That feeling is terrible. It works better for me if I expect the worst and am pleasantly surprised than to hope for the best and feel as if a knife is being plunged into me.
The pain is getting worse. Funny thing, pain. The pain that I feel now is so much worse than what it was a year ago and back then, I doubted that I could take much more. I seem to grow a stronger and stronger stance toward pain as things progress.
My new normal is walking stooped. It hurts mightily to stand up straight, so I stoop, leaning carefully on a cane. Sometimes, on sleepless nights, I swear that I can feel the cancer moving around on my liver.
The worms crawl in. The worms crawl out. They play pinochle upon your snout....
There is a constant dull ache in the vicinity of my liver. I stroke it gently, apologizing. I am so sorry that this poor innocent organ who has been so good to me has to be attacked like this. I rub my back, too. This body has been good to me over the years. After being diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis in my mid 30's, I often received cortisone shots in my back and knees but now I dread going to the doctor for anything. I feel as if I am always going in for labs, scans, you name it. I have no desire to get a shot in my back or knee and honestly? They don't help much anymore.
I try to be honest about this journey. I know that other cancer patients will profit from reading that they are not alone, so I try not to lie or make light of things. I try to just tell my story for the next person.
I do not like this part of my story. But, it is mine and I will see it to the end with as much grace and dignity as I can muster. I will fail many times. But, I will also succeed many times. I will stun myself at how strong I am. Honestly? If you had presented me with this pain a few years ago and told me that it would be a daily part of my life, I would have said that I was ready to jump ship fucking NOW.
Now, I picture my Mother. My Father-in-law. My cousins. People whom I have known who suffered before me and did it with grace. I want to be in their league.
So, I sit in my chair, wrapped in my blanket, a good book in my lap. I watch the news and COMMENT. I want to go down telling the truth about this con artist we have as president. I want this ON PAPER so that if it is ever read by those who came after me, they will know that I was not part of the problem but someone who protested, who resisted, who did not sit on her ass like a lazy woman. I want them to know that I saw climate change and tried to stop it. That I saw Hitler rise again and tried to stop him. I want them to be proud that my blood flows in their veins.
When there is a cure for cancer, I want them to see that I fought with everything I had. Maybe I won't win. Hell, I know that I will not win, but that does not mean that I put my sword down. I want it in my hand until the last moment. Even if it was fruitless. I want them to be able to say that I did not back down on my beliefs and that my beliefs were on the right side of history. I want it to be said that I fought cancer hard and with dignity.
One person can make a difference. It is a small splash, but no one can say that I didn't do proper research. No one can say that I was some bubblehead who didn't do my homework.
No one can say I didn't try. I will not go gently into that good night. I will rage against the dying of that light, as Dylan Thomas suggested.
Or maybe....they will just say, ""She was one tough fighter."
That would be okay, too.
On Thursday, I will get labs again. Along with a lot of other tests, I will get the tumor marker one again. The one that, 6 months ago rose above 60 points and I was nearly sick with fear. Since that time, it has risen to almost 2,000. The scans show that the cancer is not being stopped in any way, shape, or form. It just keeps spreading. My sternum, my liver, my spine. I am on a new chemo drug, Halaven, that is supposed to be quite powerful.
I am trying not to get my hopes up. That feeling is terrible. It works better for me if I expect the worst and am pleasantly surprised than to hope for the best and feel as if a knife is being plunged into me.
The pain is getting worse. Funny thing, pain. The pain that I feel now is so much worse than what it was a year ago and back then, I doubted that I could take much more. I seem to grow a stronger and stronger stance toward pain as things progress.
My new normal is walking stooped. It hurts mightily to stand up straight, so I stoop, leaning carefully on a cane. Sometimes, on sleepless nights, I swear that I can feel the cancer moving around on my liver.
The worms crawl in. The worms crawl out. They play pinochle upon your snout....
There is a constant dull ache in the vicinity of my liver. I stroke it gently, apologizing. I am so sorry that this poor innocent organ who has been so good to me has to be attacked like this. I rub my back, too. This body has been good to me over the years. After being diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis in my mid 30's, I often received cortisone shots in my back and knees but now I dread going to the doctor for anything. I feel as if I am always going in for labs, scans, you name it. I have no desire to get a shot in my back or knee and honestly? They don't help much anymore.
I try to be honest about this journey. I know that other cancer patients will profit from reading that they are not alone, so I try not to lie or make light of things. I try to just tell my story for the next person.
I do not like this part of my story. But, it is mine and I will see it to the end with as much grace and dignity as I can muster. I will fail many times. But, I will also succeed many times. I will stun myself at how strong I am. Honestly? If you had presented me with this pain a few years ago and told me that it would be a daily part of my life, I would have said that I was ready to jump ship fucking NOW.
Now, I picture my Mother. My Father-in-law. My cousins. People whom I have known who suffered before me and did it with grace. I want to be in their league.
So, I sit in my chair, wrapped in my blanket, a good book in my lap. I watch the news and COMMENT. I want to go down telling the truth about this con artist we have as president. I want this ON PAPER so that if it is ever read by those who came after me, they will know that I was not part of the problem but someone who protested, who resisted, who did not sit on her ass like a lazy woman. I want them to know that I saw climate change and tried to stop it. That I saw Hitler rise again and tried to stop him. I want them to be proud that my blood flows in their veins.
When there is a cure for cancer, I want them to see that I fought with everything I had. Maybe I won't win. Hell, I know that I will not win, but that does not mean that I put my sword down. I want it in my hand until the last moment. Even if it was fruitless. I want them to be able to say that I did not back down on my beliefs and that my beliefs were on the right side of history. I want it to be said that I fought cancer hard and with dignity.
One person can make a difference. It is a small splash, but no one can say that I didn't do proper research. No one can say that I was some bubblehead who didn't do my homework.
No one can say I didn't try. I will not go gently into that good night. I will rage against the dying of that light, as Dylan Thomas suggested.
Or maybe....they will just say, ""She was one tough fighter."
That would be okay, too.
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