"I remember looking down at people in the street--distant & oblivious, going about their everyday life. I had been cast out of that life, separated from its goal-oriented busyness & its promises of joy by the prospect of a probable early death. No longer wrapped in the comfortable mantle of physician & scientist, I had become a cancer patient."~David Servan-Schreiber
When I first read this quote, I cried. It so accurately describes how I feel. I still look at people and think to myself, "You're living your everyday life & I'm fighting for my life."
You see, I don't look like a cancer patient. Yes, my hair is thinning and I've lost weight, but when I wear a wig, I look like the same Alyson everyone has known for years. My reality seems to have really hit home today. I am a cancer patient.
I no longer have to get up and go to a job that I love. With chemo, it's so sporadic as to how I'm going to feel from one day to the next, there's no way I could do my job to the standards necessary. Plus, there's that whole blood count thing & infections I have to worry about. While everyone else is busy with getting up, making coffee, showering and going on about their ordinary day, I'm at home thinking about what can I eat that won't upset my newly designed gastrointestinal system. I'm at home wondering what's going on at my place of work. I'm at home feeling like I can barely make it from my bed to the couch, some days. I don't really watch TV, so I spend most of my days reading and researching. I'm bored out of my mind, but my body is not cooperating with me to function at even a semi-normal rate, some days.
My old life is gone. I'm in limbo land right now. I'm battling what they call, "the deadliest cancer". I'm doing well and have met several long-term survivors of pancreatic adenocarcinoma. One is a 12 year survivor! How I hope I will be like him. If I live 12 more years, I'll be 61!
Right now, my biggest struggle is this limbo land. The cancer is out of me, but I have 12 more chemo sessions. This is my off week from chemo & I suppose I'm feeling a little off because my new routine has been: Sunday, prepare for Nashville & Monday, labs & chemo. And now, I don't have anything to do, but rest, which I need. I know my body took a hit with this last chemo session. I probably could use a transfusion, but I'm too exhausted to even go to the ER. I keep hoping tomorrow I'll feel better and have more energy. I'm not short of breath or dizzy, which they said I need to watch for and seek medical attention, should I have those symptoms. As I said earlier, I'm bored, but my body is not cooperating with me & it's depressing.
It sucks being a cancer patient.
I'm trying to get some normalcy back to my life, but I can't really do it in limbo land.
I'll be glad when chemo is over and I can get a somewhat normal life back...at least, that's what I'm praying for...that and more energy!
Needing some oxygen tonight!
I'm with you all the way. Sitting here in the hospital I have also had the thought that it sucks being a cancer patient. It is also surreal when 6 months ago I was perfectly fine and going about life like everyone else. Then pow, life overturned in one quick minute.
ReplyDeleteI also have 13 more chemo's to go....my next one will hopefully be the last of the worst ones, but the last 12 will be weekly. It will be a happy day when chemo is over! Hang in there chemo sistah and get yourself to the hospital if you need to go!
Alyson, I don't know how you feel and I won't even pretend that I can. You belong to a group that overall seem to have little hope. I know what hopeless feels like. But you my friend, are different. You are a fighter, you are a winner. What amazing things you have accomplished so far. I just don't even have words to describe how I feel. You will win this battle and you will have your normal life back. Time is what it takes and often I feel that it is the enemy. I say get rid of the clocks and calendars and live. I wish I was closer because I feel like you are family and I just want to give you a big 'ol hug. I'm unemployed and if you ever need to chat you know where I am, oddly enough I have the time. When you are tired, let me know. When you are down, let me know. I will do everything I can to pick you up. I have tons of stories of my four year olds I can share to make you laugh. You are my friend and you are living. In 12 years I will be 56. We will meet before, but in 12 years let's have lunch.
ReplyDeleteLove you, both! Susan, keep fighting, sister! Carole, I will be calling you and we will have lunch! Both in 12 years & this summer!
ReplyDeleteI admire your willingness to be totally honest about how you are feeling right now. You know, I suppose I am weird, but sometimes I just want to "kiss the sky" because I do so far have just a normal life....get up, go to work, teach, groceries, housecleaning, laundry, pay the bills, etc. I guess in a way I want to say "Thank you, Alyson, for reminding me to go on cherishing the little things, the mundane of life, to know how wonderful it is to just have a normal day and normal life." At the same time, I feel a bit guilty that you are going through so much when I am much older than you and have had such an easy life so far. Life...sometimes it's crazy and scary and unsettling and confusing. I am so thankful that you are responding to your treatment so well, I pray you will somehow adjust to this "new normal," and that someday, there will be more normal normal and less new going on in your daily routine. I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, and I know that sharing your story with young people can and will make a difference for pancreatic cancer research and a CURE! They will find one....and they will find it sooner if we can fund the needed research.
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