today is january 28, 2013. so far i have undergone 3 intense rounds of chemo: a week at the end of october, 5 days in december, and 5 days in january. i have one more 5 day round scheduled in february.
while the days are sometimes interminably long, the weeks and months have actually passed quite quickly. in between my second and third rounds of chemo, i had another bone marrow test. dr. leber, my hematology oncologist, told me during a checkup that i was showing 1:10,000 bad cells to good cells. he said this wasn't unusual at my stage in the journey with two more rounds of chemo to go at that point. alix, the wonderful nurse practitioner i see every time i visit the hospital--as well as when i am admitted--keeps telling me i am doing fabulously and that it seems i have become an inspiration to her other leukemia patients that she sees. i hesitate to share that kind of info because i don't want to appear as though i am tooting my own horn, but i need to give a bit of context to my blog entry this time :-)
right now, as i type, i am in oncology day services getting some blood and platelets. i'm a little low on fuel today as the chemo i received a couple of weeks ago is still at work in my body killing what cancer cells might still be there. i am feeling fine and have suffered minimally compared to some people on the same journey. my issues have been kind of secondary to the cancer and the treatment. i have escaped severe nausea, thrush, and the most common side effects. mostly my issues are fatigue and allergic reaction related, either to antibiotics or adhesives. when i visit fellow patients, i am always reminded about how well i am doing. for instance, while most people here lose weight, i have gained 10 lbs since i was admitted in october. while most people can't keep food down, even if i can't taste anything because the chemo has killed even my taste buds, i still have a healthy appetite and cravings for things that other patients wouldn't attempt to ingest. while i did lose my hair, it is showing signs of growth. while my nails have reacted to treatment by turning white and blotchy, at least i don't have the neuropathy that many patients experience. and while i have down times, i'm mostly 'up.'
i just saw alix. she just told me that her other patients that i have met are taking some cues from me, even if it means forcing themselves to get up and get mobile, smile more, worry less, and be more positive. i never thought i would be a poster child for fighting cancer but it seems i am. alix says i have become "the expert" since i have wholly embraced my journey and refuse to let it beat me.
embraced the journey you question? yes. i have. but that doesn't mean i don't often feel like i am in the middle of nowhere...
which is an interesting place to be--the middle of nowhere--a misnomer if you will, because even though it feels like nowhere, it's always actually somewhere. some days i feel like i'm in some liminal space, or worse, limbo...on the cusp of either being sick or well, or in a holding pattern where progress seems like something i have to work harder at today than i had to yesterday.
but the thing is--and this is no new or deep revelation--nothing is something and nowhere is somewhere. when my blood work comes back and there's nothing to report, that "nothing to report" is a good thing. "unremarkable" and "boring" are good words to hear on my journey. "uneventful" is ok sometimes. the feeling like you're not going anywhere is to be expected on the days when you just want the journey to be over because you've reached your destination...but i think the middle of nowhere is right where you need to be to keep going, because once in the middle, you only have half the distance left to go and half the battle left to fight.
more than the lack that is suggested by the middle of nowhere, i am discovering on my journey that deep meaning can be deduced during the down times where not much seems to be happening, and those nondescript occurrences have the tendency of becoming defining moments. your middle of nowhere is hardly the end; it's transitional. and the nothing that you think is happening couldn't be further from the truth. chances are, you're farther along than you realize and you've made great strides that have not gone unnoticed.
on the quiet, uneventful, unremarkable, middle of nowhere days, i am reminding myself that if nothing else, i am already halfway there.
and so are you.
the remoteness or bleakness suggested by being in that state of nowhere is temporary because chances are you're merely off the beaten path...and that's ok because sometimes taking the less traveled path will give you original and authentic experiences, and your breakthrough or destination is right on the horizon.
embrace it.
"we don't see things as they are. we see things as we are."--anaïs nin. like the title indicates, this blog's a place where i write about my various points of view, seen through the lens of me--largely inspired by faith, family, friends...real life, basically... i invite you to read what i have to say and say something back. feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome here!
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"stewart" suite--a bit about me
- t-lstewart
- here, there, everywhere, Canada
- blogger, cancer fighter, cbc-er, cleaner, daughter, doer, dog lover, iphone lover, ipod updater, leukemia fighter, listener, loner, organizer, reader, road tripper, sharer, singer, sister, surfer, texter, thinker, watcher, writer, worker
When you are weak, then are you strong. God has given you strength to go through this journey!
ReplyDeleteYour positive attitude is inspiring. Even when you are feeling low, that positive "God's Got This" comes shining through.
Thinking of you and praying for you often.