When I was first diagnosed I took a lot of comfort in the fact that my medical team didn’t think it was necessary to treat me. How bad can cancer be if the Doctor just wants to take blood every couple of months? It was easy for me to think everything was fine and this little touch of Lymphoma was nothing to worry about. I still feel that way even after a month of chemo, but I know it isn’t true.
I participate in a forum for people with various forms of Lymphoma. Recently a lot of people over there have gotten very sick. A few have died. These deaths snap me back to reality. While I may have a lazy cancer, it is still cancer. With any luck, I will live a long life and be relatively healthy. I can look forward to more infusions, more chemo, more side effects. These things are tradeoffs that seem well worth it when I read notices about people declining rapidly, dying suddenly.
Ugh. This was supposed to be a “I am so happy treatment is over for now and I feel great post.”
The reality is I have been away from the gym for 6 weeks and I feel sluggish. I was not up to working out or maybe I just gave in to my own lazy side while I was being pumped full of medicines (aka poison.) It is time to put my headphones on and hit the gym. My trainer has texted me a few times to see how I am feeling. I said I felt fine but we all know that is a euphemism for kind of crappy. I know I will feel more energetic after I force myself to get up and move. A body in motion stays in motion. It is the law.
Yesterday we spent a few hours clearing out the gardens by the pool. My job was to cut back the vines that climb over the fence from the woods and use our carefully planted beds as a home. The vines were wrapped around my father’s transplanted rose-bush and the tall birch trees we planted as sticks so many years ago. Last spring we missed the annual pruning of the vines and with 2 years to grow they got huge and the roots were so thick it took an effort to hack them back. This morning I have scratches on the back of my hands in addition to the purple and yellow fading welt from the Rituxan IV. As I put cream on my beat up hands I laughed at the ironic evidence of me cutting back the parasites so they can’t take over what matters most.
Yes, I just compared cancer to the overgrown vines in my garden, Sorry for the lame analogy but sometimes life hands you these things.