One year ago, my life changed forever.Things haven't really been the same since, nor will they ever be the same. This should probably be an entry about all the positive things that have happened since cancer and surgery, but it won't be. I guess I am not in a mental state to go on about how blessed I am to see the real beauty in the world and appreciate all the little bullshit everywhere.
They like to tell you that everything will go back to normal after a year or so. I seriously doubt this; did you see what they did to me? What I allowed them to do? Nothing is going back to the way it was, and I have known this for nearly a year now. On any given day, at any given hour, I could be struck with serious stomach pain that could last for hours. If I eat too late in the day, I run the risk of painful reflux and vomiting, excruciating constipation or who knows what. When I breathe in deeply, sometimes it is like flexing and using muscles that haven't seen action in years. My body is broken; if I had to run to save my life or anyone else's, we'd all die. Sometimes my back gets sore because I ate something. If I eat more than a croissant before 10:30 am, it's pain, but often enough, it's pain anyway. Thankfully, I have a wonderful Japanese green tea that fixes me right up.
I decided not to do chemotherapy anymore because I cannot take the mental and emotional stress of it any longer. But I still have cancer, and the only thing that the medical establishment can recommend is more chemo. And I might have to do it, too. I have a PET scan on September 26, and because of my disappointments this year, I am not expecting great things.
They like to tell you that everything will go back to normal after a year or so. I seriously doubt this; did you see what they did to me? What I allowed them to do? Nothing is going back to the way it was, and I have known this for nearly a year now. On any given day, at any given hour, I could be struck with serious stomach pain that could last for hours. If I eat too late in the day, I run the risk of painful reflux and vomiting, excruciating constipation or who knows what. When I breathe in deeply, sometimes it is like flexing and using muscles that haven't seen action in years. My body is broken; if I had to run to save my life or anyone else's, we'd all die. Sometimes my back gets sore because I ate something. If I eat more than a croissant before 10:30 am, it's pain, but often enough, it's pain anyway. Thankfully, I have a wonderful Japanese green tea that fixes me right up.
I decided not to do chemotherapy anymore because I cannot take the mental and emotional stress of it any longer. But I still have cancer, and the only thing that the medical establishment can recommend is more chemo. And I might have to do it, too. I have a PET scan on September 26, and because of my disappointments this year, I am not expecting great things.
Continue reading One year later.
