I am now halfway through my 6 week course of chemoradiotherapy. Hallelujah etc. But probably not half way through the side-effects yet, as they are cumulative - groan....
I went in to hospital yesterday for the second dose of chemo, only to discover that there had been some sort of muddle and that it was planned to start today instead. Grrrr. Not quite sure who muddled what, to what extent which side got the wrong end of the stick etc .... but have no choice but to let it go. Staff on duty were very nice and apologetic, even though not their fault. It meant that I never got to say "Chemotherapy" in response to the question "What did you do on Fathers' Day?" Never mind, it will, I am sure, be done today. As before, it entails an overnight stay.
It is strange how long it takes to really sink in, to really accept, that I have cancer and what means. I don't know whether this is a common reaction. Logically, I know it. I am the kind of person that keeps a copy of all medical reports and tests and who reads up in order to understand the illness and the treatment. So there is no doubt about the disease or the stage. I have it in black and white in front of me, and have seen more than one specialist. So I am not in denial.
And yet, a part of me is. Not that I don't believe I have cancer, I certainly do, but in terms of what it means maybe I am still denying something. I am being treated with curative intent, so it is possible for me to believe I can be cured without having to be irrational, but it is in terms of the severity of the disease that I might be denying something. And here it is not the medical reports, the discussions with health care professionals, the internet research that haul you in. It is the side effects.
The difficulty eating (damned painful!), the fact that everything feels and tastes like cardboard in the mouth anyway (try swallowing cardboard! Actually, no, don't ...) and the fatigue blah, blah, blah brings it home even to the most stubborn of people (me) that something is most definitely not right. And yet, and yet. Earlier this year, having put it off for three years for various reasons, I finally booked the USA road trip holiday that my family had talked about for years. The kids were really looking forward to it, of course. Every time I have asked a specialist whether I will be able to do a USA road trip three weeks after finishing treatment, I have received pretty clear advice that this is highly unlikely, combined with glances and looks that convey questions about my sanity ranging from "What planet are you on?" to "Should we section him already now?"
But I still haven't cancelled the holiday. I suppose I need a few more days of side-effects....
