Lately,
amidst my negative outlook on my current situation, I found myself wondering
why I’m not one of those “I can beat this!” cancer patients. You know, those
women in the media wearing pink t-shirts with big smiles, waving their fists at
their seemingly endless cancer-fighting strength. Given my normal ‘life is
beautiful’ outlook, those who know me might be wondering where that sunshiny
gal is now. She’s still here, but currently being held captive like a circus
animal in a dank dungeon, only allowed out at gun point to perform at the
seldom out-of-the-house appearances—work, infrequent friends’ visits, and when forced
to chit-chat with strangers in public at the dog park and grocery store.
My
confidence in “beating” cancer is definitely strong. Arming myself with education
on nutrition, herbal remedies, and available treatments covered by my insurance
(and if I’m being honest, a dash of denial since the cancer hasn’t produced any
symptoms—it’s easy to think you’ll outlive something that doesn’t hurt), has
given me a positive outlook on becoming “cancer free”.
It’s
the demonic chemotherapy I’m not sure I’ll outlive. His poisonous talons have
gripped not only my physical wellbeing—tearing apart my body’s strength system
by system, but also my mental spirit. I can’t think of one structure inside me
that hasn’t been negatively affected by the fury of chemo. Well maybe my
hearing….I guess my hearing is the same. I will spare you the nauseating
details (you’re welcome) here, but feel free to email me for my complete
gruesome list (especially if you’re one of those who thinks chemo only produces
fatigue and queasiness).
I
wasn’t exactly okay with chemotherapy to begin with. If you’ve read my previous
posts, you know I strongly favor natural healing remedies over chemically
compounded drugs. And chemo is the worst of the worst. Not only is it a drug,
but one in which my body is duped before it enters and attacks. And now that I’m
in the middle of my treatment, I’m even more NOT okay with it. Almost daily I
consider that undergoing chemotherapy was a huge mistake.
So,
as someone who’s suffering through the debilitating side effects of 3 venomous
drugs pumped into my chest port weekly, which were likely tested on rabbits and
Beagles in torturous ways with no benefit to them, and rendering me useless as
a wife, friend, relative, worker and activist—no, I’m not one of those women
who’s taken by the deceiving and over-funded pink ribbon campaign, wearing a Save the Ta Ta’s bracelet and shouting catch
phrases like “I’m a survivor” and “Bald is Beautiful”.
What
I’m fighting now, is the chemo not the cancer. While my tumors are reacting to
the powerful poisonous potions, my body is in the battle of its life against the
toxic regime. Sure I was diagnosed with cancer, but what’s more detrimental now—I
have chemo.
I read a lot of stuff about this.
ReplyDeleteJust the other day there was a piece on this
and I was thinking, not of sending it to you, because I know that if you hadn't come across it already, surely you will, and so again, as I have so often, I drop a thought pebble in the lake and watch the waves it makes radiate outward, secure in knowing that like dob, like dobter, and you will find and embrace the truth and the truth will give you sustenance. You've yet to prove me wrong in that.
In my darkest hour, long ago, a story I'll forever keep secret, the only thing that saved me, was the simplest, most profound bit of wisdom, and yet it had no power to help me in my current circustance, it did nothing. Eventually I was free from the depths of despair. And only when I found myself standing again on solid ground did I know the words were true.
And so, all I can say to you, as was said to me, is that the horrors you speak of are true, but, equally true, is, they will pass.
love, dob
I feel this way, too, when it comes to the positive spin in every medical/patient memoir. I feel like the cheer leading is good for some, but not for others. And the fact that we don't make way for the ones who just want to say, "Screw this," is wrong. Chemo sucks and it hurts and it's scary. Not everyone wants to wear a pink t-shirt and do a walk-a-thon and that has to be respected.
ReplyDeleteI love your blog and the way you share your true feelings. I got a lot of grief from a few folks for posting a blog post about considering suicide. Some family members who shall remain nameless were disapproving of the fact that my blog doesn't always have a positive message wrapped up nicely and tied in a happy bow. That's not real life and they can stop reading if they're uncomfortable with who I really am. I believe honesty is more healing than writing what other people who have no idea what it means to be sick want to read.
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