Every once in a while a glitch appears in the system. A time space continuum as they would say in Star Trek. Never quite figured out what that meant. Sounds amazing though.

So it was on this Tuesday. The Chemo Daycare unit lost track of the prescription for my Chemo medication. They had to phone the great Dr. Hedley to get a renewal. I waited an hour and a half. The waiting room was full. I just assumed they had fallen behind. I finally decided it was time to ask questions when I discovered what was causing the delay. This was not good news. The had just received the go-ahead. We now had to wait a couple of hours for the pharmacy to prepare the drugs.

I had arrived at the vampire clinic around quarter to ten. My two favourite nurses were there, Delanie, and Viviene. Delanie took on the task of sucking the blood out of me. This was going to be a full blood test including the liver enzymes in preparation for meeting Dr. Hedley on Wednesday. I mentioned to Delanie how impressed people are with the committee approach to looking after us. She smiled and said that is reserved for complicated cases only. Ahh, more information. Every visit yields new insights.

This was going to be a long day. The whole process was finished at four in the afternoon. All the nurses who looked after me were terrific as usual. They have looked after me before, making for a very relaxed afternoon. My blood count was good. I am hoping to avoid Neulasta for this week.

A couple of interesting observations. One of the patients would not shut up. I watched him in the waiting room. He changed seats three times and engaged the people sitting beside him. They never said a word as he started his conversation and continued until someone else came along, or he was interrupted or something. He sported a small red button that loudly acclaimed that Cancer Sucks.

These two ladies walked in as well. They were a bit agitated, a bundle of nerves. One of them was the companion. They were both wearing the same T-shirt that said something about supporting some cancer fighting initiative. The tag line read Kicking Cancer.

I could not help but wonder at both these displays of distaste with cancer. I do not see the point of either. Both appear to me to be negative in their outlook. We all know cancer sucks. No ones needs to be reminded of this less than the other cancer patients in the room. Yes, it sucks, but what are you going to do about it? Railing against the intrusion does little except make matters worse.

Kicking cancer sounds a lot like you are constantly kicking your self somewhere you should be avoiding. In my case, that would be the liver. Already painful enough. It does not need to be kicked any more. It has gone through enough punishment already.

We have covered this ground before. We surely need more love for our bodies. Fetneh is always reminding me to talk to my liver and tell it how much I love it. Amongst all the other stuff we are doing, it is surely helping. One of my cats, BooBoo Long Paws, insists on lying on me for a bout five minutes almost every day. He lies on my stomach and purrs. We are sure that my liver responds positively to that as well. Whatever. We are full of superstitions about all sorts of things, why not add this to the list.

My body has stopped reacting to the Chemo drugs. Even Avastin is no longer causing the destruction to my nose. I have not had a nose bleed in a couple of weeks. I was talking about this with a friend of mine who said, wow, this is a good thing, no? No, is the answer. The body has rallied summoning all the forces within the immune system, to render all the drugs useless. This is not good. We are seeing Dr. Hedley on Wednesday for a longer discussion on what is next in this new life of ours.

I have been very disturbed since the last CT-Scan results. We were progressing in such amazing ways that the sudden stop has been very unsettling. We knew it was coming. Everybody stop reacting to their Chemo cocktail at some point. 17 Chemo sessions is a lot to put the body through and expect stellar results. At some point the body just gives up and stops reacting. I am there.

The repercussions of this are not known. We live day by day not expecting much. This is not a negative feeling. You just have to learn to appreciate all things at all times.

I was lying in bed last night when the visual of walking along a precipice presented itself. I imagine a whole bunch of us walking along this precipice not daring to look down. Some stones crumble off the edge as we take our walks and fall silently into the unseen depths below us. A bit of our life chipping away? Fewer days ahead?

The edge of the precipice is crowded. Some are closer to the edge, others further up the small hill that abuts the precipice. We are all milling about, recognising some faces, talking, making new friends, contemplating, sitting in silence. We lose someone occasionally as the ground beneath them crumbles taking them in the void below. Some people congregate taking solace in the crowd, others stray farther afield treasuring their solitude. Yet others remain close to the entrance hoping against hope for a way out. The nature of the crowd changes continuously.

People move towards the precipice, as life is coming to a close, then back off as they are given a reprieve of sorts, more time. Time for whatever you think deserves it.

In the distance you see a wall behind which there are suitcases and backpacks and purses and containers. Everyone comes here with their baggage, real or imagined. They topple to their fate leaving it all behind. It accumulates gathering dust, rotting into the ether, a reminder of sorts. I will let your imagination sort that one out. There are tags on everything identifying the owner, some still with us, others long gone. The dust of time hangs heavy in the air. No one ventures further in.

Should you dare look down into the precipice, you will see nothing. Deep, cavernous, never ending, the sides shrouded in mist. People toppling over in silence. No screams or shouts of surprise at the fall. If you listen carefully, you might hear a heavy grateful sigh. A soul leaving the body perhaps, a sigh of gratification maybe.

There is a sense if resignation amongst the crowd. No one has given up. There is no sadness. The inevitable fall is staring us in the face. Yet, we mingle, compare notes, talk, laugh and make the best of it. No longer a question of why but rather one of when?

The first did not have an answer, and the second is no better.

I apologise for this entry, but I do not seem to be able to let go of this thought. Maybe because I have not found a satisfactory solution to it. This entry can be blamed on Lelsie who engaged me in a wide ranging and rambling discussion while I was trying to sleep.

The trouble with expressions  like fighting cancer which taken root in our lingo, is that you just cannot get rid of them. They have to be replaced with something.

The opposite to fight is love. Love your cancer? That is a stretch for even the most optimistic amongst us. I wonder what physiological changes take place in our psyche when we discover we have cancer.

The obvious sentiments are, well, obvious. I wonder about the ones that take place on a more subconscious level.

Very few people I know accept compliments graciously. It is almost as if we do not like our own bodies and cannot possibly accept that somebody else might see some beauty. Surely they jest. Deluded. Must be talking about somebody else. Do we, at some level, hate ourselves that much?

I wonder what happens when you suddenly discover  you have the dreaded C. Do you hate yourself even more? I doubt anyone you speak to will confirm this. You have cancer, do you hate yourself?

And yet, I cannot help but believe that it might be there on some level. We all tend to blame ourselves for “getting” cancer. We must have done something in this life, in a past life, to someone or something to deserve this.

I wonder if part of the healing process is to learn to love yourself, to learn to bask in your own glory, the pleasures you bring to life around you.

Can we replace Fight Cancer with Love Yourself?

© 2010 I Have Cancer Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha