Friday, August 7, 2009

Big C Update

I guess I've been fairly lucky all my life: I breezed through school (what little I attended); I got every job I ever wanted and almost every man. Even my previous experiences as a medical anomaly at least ended well. My very first hospitalization was in high school: I got a bug bite and my face blew up like a balloon; something called cellulitis (not cellulite!) that was successfully treated with IV antibiotics. I survived a half-gainer through a windshield with no permanent injury. And I'm one of the few Toxic Shock Syndrome survivors (remember that?). Although it was misdiagnosed as Scarlet Fever, I was put on antibiotics that probably saved my life.

So I don't have any experience with failure on this scale. Maybe failure's not even the right word. Whatever it is, I feel like everything under this headline always falls in the neutral-to-bleak area. I haven't really had any good news to share since this whole ordeal started.

Well, let's give me points for consistency, at least. Once again, after just 4 weeks of chemo-vacation, the numbers are moving in the wrong direction. Some are taking baby steps, some are moving a little faster than that. And the Doc quickly offered me another month of freedom -- I'm sure he senses that I'm not yet even willing to discuss more chemo. But I'll bet that will be on the agenda next month. The worst of it, to me, is feeling that I'm letting down everyone who's cheering from the sidelines. I just can't get a first down, can't get a hit; pick your sports metaphor.

The pain has not gone away, but it is manageable, at least for now. And I'm starting to get my life and (whats left of) my mind back: no more 'roid rage and hysteria, no more diabetes, insulin shots, yeast infections, and all the other delights of the chemo/steroid-go-round. So psychologically, I'm feeling better than I have since before the diagnosis. I'm not sure I want to give this up. I think I'd rather have quality of life, for however long I can, than quantity, if it means going back on chemo, because chemo just sort of takes my life away from me. It's lost time.


Susan said...

The Big C. Crap Crud Criminy Cooties Criminal Cantankerous Cruel Cry. I want it to just go away, and leave my friend alone. It is a f***ing big bully and I just want to kick its ugly butt for you.

Michelle@Gotchababy said...

What Susan said. Just catching up tonight--sending good vibes your way, friend.