One day last week I searched the internet for information on having continual pain months after a lung lobectomy. To my surprise I found a good support site and signed up to read some of the information. Once you sign up, it is like many other sites that uses a profile page for you. This site also includes a “Journal” for the members. The journal is actually a blog where readers can leave their comments. I haven’t posted a lot, only two times. My second post was how I decided to continue with the Chemotherapy that I am still on. The replies were top drawer and in each reply the reader noted that my writing was creative and expressive that conveyed some of their own thoughts. The following is a post that I wrote yesterday that I want to share with you.
A few years ago my bedtime changed to an early hour which then makes me rise before the break of dawn. This all happened because I was trying to lose many pounds and I decided one way to do this effectively was to retire to the bedroom early and once there I do not allow myself to make any runs to the refrigerator. Since my surgery and continuing on through my chemo treatment, I am often tired and still retire early.
One early morning, a few months ago, I walked from the bedroom and patted my thigh to let “Blackie” the cat know that I will let her out for an early romp with her feline friends. The house is dark, it is dark outside and downstairs I am all alone. I make coffee and listen for the last gurgles that tell me the pot has finished its duties. While I wait I make a piece of toast, very crunchy and very dark. Once the coffee is in the cup I sit on the sofa in my office. The darkness wraps around me like a friendly, relaxing arm and I use the time to think or meditate about me and the family I have.
I think of why I chose to join the study group for Chemo Therapy. After the first treatment I became very ill and needed to spend a few days in the hospital. One night after I came home I sat on the sofa in the darkness of the early morning. It came to me that I erred when I said I didn’t want to continue with the Chemo. I felt I needed to take the treatment for M and my sister, both who would not take it well if anything else happened to me early on. It was clear to me that I needed to continue the therapy because if I didn’t and the cancer started up again the guilt for not continuing had a good chance of instilling anger in me and my death, would be bitter. To continue therapy allows me to know that I have done everything I can to make sure a good chance of survival, but if the cancer begins again the knowledge that I did all I allows me to be calm during my last experience.
Without the early darkness of morning that allows my thoughts to form I never could have understood the chemotherapy is for me–that without it I may react badly to what the future holds.