Meeting Somebody Going Through Cancer/Chemo (And I’ve been there too)
“You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have,”. Bob Marley
Aw, cancer. One word that covers an incredibly cruel disease, and takes on so many different versions with different treatments and outcomes. That one word that invokes fear in the heart of every person. The one thing most people hope they never have, but many will.
Nowadays there are more survivors than in years past. But many still do not survive. Research has been crucial to a higher survival rate than before, and one treatment I had that was considered a “trial” treatment back in 2001 — Rituximab treatment for lengthening remission, is now standard treatment, I heard some time ago. So we have been moving forward in the battle against cancer.
The first day I moved into my new apartment recently, I met a friendly lady who said, “Hi” and introduced herself. I couldn’t tell she had little hair, because it was cold out and she was wearing a hat.
In the course of our conversation, it came out that she was having chemo. She had been living in Texas, but moved back here for treatment closer to her family.
I felt really bad for her, because years ago (2001–2002), I went through Chemotherapy for Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, and I do indeed know the struggle.
Luckily I survived Lymphoma back in 2002, but the type I’ve had is known to return. Once you’ve had any form of cancer, if it doesn’t kill you, it does change your life and perspective forever. That much, I do know.
The biggest lesson Cancer taught me was that yes, doctors and medical specialists know some things about it, but they honestly don’t know it all and they aren’t God. Period.
I still have some respect for Medicine, but if there was one thing that got me way over any “worship” of the Medical field, having cancer did it.
I know the life and death struggle and I know the spiritual and emotional struggle cancer brings you too.
I also know that it’s a very personal experience and every person handles it in a different way.
I also became acutely aware of the mind/body connection that exists as well, and how your own mind can really help you fight cancer.
Among the medicinal and medical treatment I had for cancer, one of the better tools at my disposal was an arsenal of meditative tapes to help me “Visualize” my body’s battle (and victory) over the cruel beast of cancer. I honestly attribute my survival of Lymphoma greatly to the daily practice of “visualizing” my body fighting and winning that fight through guided meditation recorded on tape.
I also live humbly in the shadow of poor health insurance now, but when I was fighting cancer, I was married with my insurance and my husband’s fairly good HMO at the time. The cost of the treatment was still a heavy financial burden on us, even with 2 insurances.
Having cancer takes you over. It consumes your daily experience and dictates every aspect of your life. For one thing, even with a very treatable form of cancer, many things can go wrong and tip the scales of life/death the wrong way. With cancer, sh#t can very well happen, and often does. It brings it home to you how fragile human life is, while it also teaches you about your own strength, both at the same time.
People want to speculate on why I view life and things much differently than they do. I think that is a culmination of a lot of things I’ve been through, with Cancer being at or near the top of the list of those factors!
In order to survive Cancer, I needed every single tool and coping mechanism at my disposal. It is an all-out fight for survival, (which seems to be my lot in life lately), although I’m really hoping that gets better (and it has improved a little now).
Another funny aspect of Cancer is “other people’s reactions”. Oh yeah, possibly that was one of the greatest struggles I had. People feel sympathetic, but uncomfortable towards those going through cancer treatment.
I think most people feel really bad for those fighting cancer, but they also feel that the Grim Reaper is following the cancer patient every place you go. Some don’t want to get to know you because they are already engraving your name on your tombstone! (Something else Cancer taught me is that it’s not over, until it’s really over. Keep the faith).
Some people genuinely want to help, but they really don’t know what to do or say, so they end up botching it. This could come off very weirdly at times.
One thing I remember comically (and it probably really wasn’t that comical, but things do strike a person with cancer, differently):
There was a lady in my church who wanted to help me (during chemotherapy), but she just didn’t know how. She also didn’t ask me how she could have helped (and I could’ve told her).
She was determined to, 1. Take me to my chemotherapy appointment and 2. Sit right beside me until it was completely done.
My response was “Thank you for the ride to my appointment but you really don’t have to stay during the treatment.”
But she insisted. So I said, “Ok whatever,” but I also knew the treatment was not “very pretty” at times. In particular, one reason I had problems is that for some odd reason, my Hematologist never gave me a port for IV infusion.
Not having a port inserted meant constant “sticks” for IV’s, and it ended up ruining my veins. Plus, I never had good veins in the first place — IV’s used to be a challenge for me BEFORE cancer and chemo.
So this nice church lady who was using my condition to overcome her own demons, tried to sit with me for cancer/chemo treatment.
It had to have been hard for her, and not what she expected. I was in a big room where many people would get chemo at the same time (I think so nurses could watch all of us together to make it easier for them).
This was the last time I would receive chemo this way, because the intial “stick” for the IV went wrong. Blood clotting was also an issue at this time.
Blood literally Squirted ACROSS THE ROOM. The lady from church turned pale and ran out! (After this episode, I had a private room for chemo mainly so blood flying across the room didn’t gross everybody out).
I then raised my hand and asked the Nurse, “Hey, can I leave too?” (some smart answer that I don’t fully remember was her reply).
Well, the poor church lady and really I do know she meant well.
Another crazy experience I had was that when I started losing my hair, it came out all in front and the middle of my head, but not the back! I had a full head of curls in the back, but bald otherwise. I wore a cute hat which covered it up.
However, one windy day at the mall, the wind tore off my hat and my very weird looking haircut was revealed in front of 2 young women, who immediately gasped, turned pale and ran away.
I was horribly embarrassed….went scrambling for my hat and cut the shopping trip short and went straight home.
When my husband got home from work, I told him he was going to shave my head.
He did shave my head, under great protest with remarks about “I never thought I’d be shaving my wife’s head!”. Well, (my now EX husband), welcome to marriage where you end up doing every thing you can imagine you’d never have to do! Marriage itself is NOT for the faint of heart. (One reason I’m not married anymore).
I could go on and on about all the weird experiences I had during chemotherapy treatment.
There can be an “up” side, but unfortunately it’s one not every person gets to have: Victory over cancer, even temporary victory.
Hearing one day that you are in cancer remission or (better) even cancer “free” is a gift from God and a total “game changer” for life. It gives you gratitude and perspective in life like nothing else can.
At the end of chemo and when I was pronounced “in remission” the sun never shone brighter, the flowers never smelled so sweet and I felt I’d been literally given another chance at life.
I truly wish more people could win over cancer and get to that point. The sad fact is that many still do not.
I pray for this new person I’ve met and who has been friendly towards me while I’m adjusting to a new home, and who is battling cancer.
In addition I pray for all those currently battling cancer.
Perhaps I also needed to remember my own life and death struggle with Cancer, and to remember to not take many things too seriously and to always hold onto hope.
Cancer took the life of my Paternal grandfather, my father and my sister had to fight Leukemia (and also won that battle for now), and then myself too.
I’m well acquainted with the BEAST called “Cancer”.
May it be eternally defeated one day, Amen, let it be so.
“Courage is FEAR that has said it’s prayers”