Yesterday’s chemo treatment was worse than usual. Part of it was my mental outlook. I’m still fatigued from the last chemo round, my confidence that the treatment is actually working is low, the anticipation of the side effects (especially the migraine like headache that lasted 48 hours after the last treatment) was high, and needing two sticks to find the right vein put the icing on the cake. On top of all that, it was the 7th anniversary of my mom’s death to lung cancer. She died on September 12th 2000. I wrote this next part to my dad and siblings two days ago…
“I think about her at times. She had a good life and died with dignity in the face of adversity. Cancer is so terrible. It robs your body and leaves your mind intact. My mom was so herself 48 hours before she died, but she was ready to go. I said something to someone yesterday that in retrospect seems a bit dumb. I said I would probably go before I was ready. They said, isn’t that true of most people. It probably is.”
If she could see me and my spouse now, I think she would be saddened by the pain and suffering this disease has caused us. My mom went quickly, 6 months from diagnosis to grave. For us, at least today and the 2.5 years since I was first diagnosed, it feels more like death by a 1000 cuts. I’m looking forward to an improved mental outlook for me and those close to me over the next few days.
We did have some other visits in addition to chemo at the hospital yesterday. My thanks goes out to those doctors and researchers who spent some of their valuable time with us and who are looking for a cure to this insidious disease. Even if their work does not have application to me personally, I have to believe it will help those that come after me.