Cancer as a Chronic Illness

As the calendar moves closer to my two year "cancer-versary," I'm finding that I have a very different mindset about my illness than I did upon diagnosis, or a year ago - or even six months ago. More and more, I feel like I'm in this for the long haul. On the one hand, that's reassuring, because I'm feeling very healthy (relatively speaking)  and enthusiastic and confident about reclaiming the "normal" activities of my life prior to diagnosis - teaching, tidying my kitchen, knitting, taking yoga classes, arguing with some of the people I love the most. But it's also disheartening, because cancer is unpredictable, and what feels like stability of sorts now could be completely discarded following my next scan, or the rise of some new and unexpected sympton, and so on. And even if the lesions that remain continue to be stable, I have a  host of other conditions now that originated from my disease and its subsequent treatment - my blocked IVC, serious edema that comes and goes, my ongoing anemia, persistent low platelet counts, my broken ribs, and so on. My stamina and fitness status are poor, to say the least, especially after six weeks of laying around trying to let my ribs heal.  So these concerns are always there, hanging around in the waiting room of my brain, just waiting for a weak mental moment when they can infiltrate my thinking and send me right to the brink of a nervous breakdown. 
At the same time, though, I have more confidence than ever before that I can beat - or at least, coexist - with this disease for a relatively long period of time. Instead of making plans 6 or 8 weeks in advance, I find myself thinking in terms of the next six months...sometimes in terms of the next year! You have no idea what a relief it is to embrace this kind of thinking. I feel like I'm playing a central role in my own health by taking control of my diet, by choosing which drugs I want and need to take, by integrating supplements and mediation into my daily life, and by exercising (well, thats been on hiatus but I'll get back to it! I knoow I will!). It's reassuring, and life affirming - and even a bit scary.  Case in point: I was reading this terrific book called Radical Remission, where a doctoral student at Harvard went around interviewing hundreds of people who had gone into remission with their cancers despite rejecting traditional medicines and technology. At first, I was fascinated - and then suddenly, I became petrified. Do I really have the kind of control over my health and wellness that the stories the author collected imply? The answer, of course, is yes, I think I do. And this makes my anxiety levels rise, and the stakes feel even higher. It's one thing to say, well, there's not much more the medical world can do for you. But to consider the fact that maybe I myself am not doing all I can to maximize my health and acheive a state of wellness that, technically speaking, I probably haven't been privy to in many years (since my initial tumor was very large and my medical team surmises that it had been growing for as long as 10 years before it was discovered)? To recognize and embrace the fact that my recovery is largely in my own hands is pretty terrifying - and empowering.
Speaking of which, I have some SBRT (targeted radiation therapy sessions) coming up within the next two weeks. The two lesions on my left lung that have been under surveillance have grown large enough that they likely can be obliterated with radiation - they tried to get them back in September, but the spots were so small that they couldn't see them on the scans after a single session, so they stopped trying (after all, they don't want to irradiate healthy lung tissue - I only have so much to go around!). I'll keep you all posted but please send prayers and positive thoughts that the therapy works well, that the medical team devoted to my care continues to be extraordinary, and that the treatments don't make me too tired...because I started back to work last week! I am teaching three classes, including a new course I designed dedicated to better understanding the wars between the US and Iraq, and the ways in which those wars affected the people, politics, and culture of both countries. I'm really excited to be back in the classroom, and although we've only had one week together, I am getting terrific vibes from my classes. I think it's going to be a fantastic semester. 

Comments

  1. I think many of us rooting for you fall into the trap of thinking that cancer is an interruption to your normal life, and we are waiting (maybe even without realizing it) for a definitive declaration of victory and a resumption of regular living. The title of your post is a good reminder of the fact that this is more of a new path than a detour. And your post is, as usual, inspiring.

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