The Horrors of Chemotherapy and Other Stories

The latest information from my oncologist is that there's no cure for this cancer and it just has to be managed like any other chronic disease. The average life expectancy for this type is two years according to statistics he says. This terrifies me. He must have told me this before but I probably forgot. I found this out when I asked for a prognosis. Managing cancer as a chronic disease means ongoing chemotherapy treatment indefinitely with hopes for remission. I skipped the last treatment and have had a wonderful two weeks of feeling well physically. The treatment before that was a nightmare. I've never felt so ill and weak. The almost constant vomiting and diarrhea, combined with several nights without sleep left me so weak, I could hardly walk. That's why I decided to skip a treatment. I've now recovered from the assault on my poor old body, thank God. I'm already dreading the next treatment on March 9th. My brother won't be able to take me anymore so I'll be using taxis from now on. There is a little spark of good news among the nightmares though and that is that my CEA numbers have been steadily declining. A CT scan done on February 15th will tell us how effective the treatments have been and I'll probably get those results the next time I see the oncologist (probably later in the month).

During the worst of my last chemotherapy-induced illness, I became very depressed and wondered if it was worth going through when it affects my quality of life so negatively. This is not a state of mind I want to encourage, however. My tactic for dealing with the cancer is to try to forget about it by distracting myself with books and not talking or thinking about it. That's hard to do when the chemo side effects are a constant reminder though. I'll just have to try harder, I guess.

I haven't been well enough to do my usual Fridays at the cat shelter for months and should have gone during this two-week hiatus but forgot to arrange transportation. I really miss going and will definitely go next time I miss a treatment. Because I feel so well and actually have an appetite, I'm having dinner on Sunday with my friends from work and lunch with my brother tomorrow. I plan to stuff myself on both occasions.

To try to improve my general health, I want to start preparing meals for myself instead of eating in the dining room here but I can't afford to at the moment. My rent here includes meals whether or not the meals are taken and rent is based on the previous year's income. My current rent exceeds my monthly income by about $500.00, which leaves nothing for groceries or anything else. My prescription costs are astronomical too - cancer's a very expensive disease because the cost of effective anti-nauseants is high. I've applied for a temporary rent reduction but it's a long, slow and painful bureaucratic process. Part of my rent is subsidised in a small way by the local health authority and this is why the rules are so inflexible. The food here is adequate but not good quality as much of it is processed, eg frozen quiche. There's more of a focus on meat than I'd like too as I'd prefer to be eating more of a plant-based diet, which I think would be better for me. Getting groceries is a bit of a problem too, although I did manage to find a store where I can order online and they'll deliver for a fee. It's a pretty expensive store though, catering to Vancouver's west end, where it's very expensive to live so incomes are probably much higher than the pittance I get from a long-term disability insurer. Thank goodness my employer provides long-term disability insurance or I'd be in the gutter living in a paper bag or having to break into the savings I've kept for old age - provided old age is in my future.

Well this is possibly the most depressing post I've ever written in this blog. I much prefer my essays to be uplifting but trying to be cheery when I'm not is really hard work. I'll try for more smiles next time - promise