Cancer: April 2008 Archives

I was supposed to be doing my fourth treatment this week, but because I lost my voice on Monday, they thought it prudent to push it by one week. Which means that on May 3, I will be rather ill. But who cares about May 3?

I do. On May 3, 2007, I learned that I had a huge tumour in my esophagus. So I was wondering what I should do this May 3. What sort of ritual could I do? I can't say that I should have a celebration necessarily, unless I would celebrate my survival. I suppose I could do that. But perhaps a symbolic action would be more appropriate. Do any of you have ideas?

I hope to survive. I do have expectations of survival, but they aren't nearly as strong as they used to be. Last night I was awake all night thinking about my decline and death. I had to remind myself at 5 am that my chances are actually very good. It's hard to think positively (or rationally, sometimes) when you are suffering. That's what chemotherapy is. Suffering. I should see it as a cure, as a salvation, but when you can barely think, feed yourself or even stand, it's hard to be positive.

But I am not sad or depressed, since I am not fully into the belief that I will die. No one has said it, and treatment is only half over. Anything can happen, and that is where hope and fear coincide. I'll probably be my normal self in a day or two.

My brother-in-law says that I should be enjoying myself as much as possible. I wonder what the subtext is...

UPDATE: Immediately after writing this, I came upon this. If you believe in...stuff, well this is probably stuff worth paying attention to.