The Long Climb
Every time I go into the hospital for chemotherapy, this image of a bar pops into my head. Just stick with me on this one. Imagine there are some real bad dudes just taking up space, not supposed to be there. They are cancer. All of a sudden, this friendly biker gang, our metaphor for medicine, comes in. A brawl erupts and eventually, the bad dudes are thrown out, but the place is an absolute mess. The bar is my body.
Never before have I felt this weak. I am sure that many of the aches and pains I feel every day are typical for everyone. They just don’t register until you wonder if that’s just another sign that you are seriously ill. Hell, I went a full day with an untreated blood clot because it did not hurt that much. Now, I feel everything. I lifted six 30 pound boxes to head height, and I had to gather my strength to stand up afterwards.
Since my last update (The Road Ahead), much has happened. I am back in Georgia receiving treatment at Piedmont Hospital. I have been blown away by the excellent care I have received at their facilities. Other than that, I am just glad to be home. Houston is interesting, but Atlanta will always be my city.
As far as my condition goes, chemotherapy has caused some new issues. Doxorubicin is unfortunately rough on the heart. At MD Anderson, I had an irregular heartbeat caused by treatment. Since then, I have received medication to combat these side effects, and it was not an issue during the last round of treatment. There are also early signs of nerve damage in my hands, but that is a bridge I will cross when the time comes.
In good news, my blood clot is completely gone. There is slight scarring in my veins from the ordeal, but no big deal. I will remain on blood thinners until the port is removed from my chest. I won’t have to drink Coca Cola for my 21st birthday.
Last but not least, the cancer is definitely dying. My recent PET scan showed complete remission. On a PET scan, different parts of your body show up with different “heat” levels depending on how much of the radioactive sugar they absorbed. Your blood will have some base heat level. Below that level of heat is the definition of remission. In my first PET scan, the cancer lit up like a spotlight. Now, it hardly registers. Two more chemotherapy sessions are all that are needed to destroy the disease.
I’ve told several people this, but I honestly believe life works like a pendulum. Sadness and disappointment on one side, opposed by all the better things. It is no lie that the last year has been one of the most difficult years of my life. I am hoping that the pendulum is swinging back right now. I am having more fun right now than I have had in a while. There are so many things coming up that I can not wait for.
My only constraint is my health, but that is climbing. Don’t get me wrong, it will certainly be a long climb. For anyone else going through a similar struggle or their own hardships, I have two pieces of advice that have stuck with me. First, push yourself now, so that is easier to push yourself later. Recovery is always easier with preparation. Second, keep a positive attitude. If you smile, you can trick the fear and worries inside of you. To borrow from My Hero Academia, in the face of adversity, the people in this world who can smile are always the strongest.
I could use some strength right now.
T Stat
