I seem to have been living in some kind of a daze these past few weeks. I guess the chemo is starting to take a bigger toll on my energies – it’s certainly starting to take a toll on my waistline, though that’s probably not a bad thing in the long run!
It’s now just over a week since I got the good newws from my oncologist, Dr Tache, that my CAT scan results were “good”. I had to ask what “good” meant! It turns out that, as far as they can tell from the scan my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is gone, but, as “we don’t have a Star Trek scanner” we need to continue the chemo for another three cycles. It is good news. I know it’s good news and yet, the continuing of the chemo feels like a continuation of the gaol sentence as, from the outset I was told I would be cured. When I knew the chemo was working on the cancer itself there was a fair trade off between the fatigue, the queasiness, the need to not mix with people, the limitations on where I could go, the lack of employment and cash on the one hand and the expectation of good health and a long life on the other, but, if the lymphoma is gone then there is now really nothing for me to set those things off against and in a way that is an unexpected blow to my morale. When I knew the chemo was attacking the cancer as well as my body then I understood why I walked along the street like some kind of nonogenarian penguin who, having, spent their entire life at sea has landed in port, got totally rat-arsed and lost their walking frame to boot, but now when I walk that way I don’t really understand why. I know, intellectually, that it is to make sure the whole cancer is totally eradicated from my body, that there’s nothing lurking somewhere awaiting an opportunity to leap out and scream “I’m back and this time I’m not going away!!!”, but that’s not the same thing as an emotional understanding is it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not full of self-pity over my plight – I’ve read enough blogs over which I’ve shed many tears to know how very fortunate I am – but I’m ready for moving on and I think that, emotionally, I need something which shows that I am doing.
When I started to lose weight I thought to myself, “This is ok, I could do with shedding a pound or twenty” and I had this image in my own mind that the physical me of, say, ten years might start to emerge, but, as I look in the mirror, the me I see starting to emerge is the me of fifteen to twenty years in the future and that’s a scary thought – actually it’s also a scary image but we won’t go there! I think, though, that this image of the future is something to which I am able to attach a resolution which is to improve my physical condition, to work my body while I still can, to restore muscle tone and shape rather than looking like the proverbial bag of spuds, but, again, it’s something which I want to start doing now and yet I know I don’t have the wherewithal to do it yet, or rather I know that if I do try then there will be a loss of energy for the next few days. As I only feel to have energy for three or four days out of the fourteen day half-cycle that’s not really a good swap is it?