I hate that 'journey' term, but here goes. I'm four years post Ivor Lewis op. But I want to talk about my cancer so I can to talk others about their oesophageal cancer. This is some stuff I wrote this evening. It's a personal note just about my own thoughts and feelings.
Do you feel guilty surviving cancer? I do, especially oesophageal cancer. Did we abuse our bodies?
Sure, I’m not the same inside. Inside my body I mean. All this revised plumbing. It makes life a little different but not at all unbearable. I don’t remember extreme pain like my sister suffered. That wasn’t fair, we had something in common for a while but not anymore, she’s dead and I’m still alive.
When you have cancer it’s those people around you that suffer the most, those that love you. But they are the other part of the cure. Without them you are surely condemned. Some people have nobody, I had somebody who suffered all my pain for me, never leaving my side.
Looking back there were some pretty bad times but I never thought I had ‘cancer’, I was just ill and needed this Chemo stuff and radio therapy followed by a big operation. The Renton centre in Hereford was/is a wonderful place. I was puzzled at first as to why all these people cared so much about me. Even the nurse taking my blood. My wife and I did crosswords, read books, and laughed during those long chemo sessions and waiting to go into radio therapy. How could you not survive when someone gives so much love.
I think you forget the bad bits: The pain when you ate some things (the clue that something was wrong). The confirmation that you have cancer (Teri-Ann and me with a specialist Macmillan nurse). I welled up but I didn’t really know what this meant, My wife did. Then the treatment: My initial fears of the chemo treatment. All the other drugs, the nose bleeds from hell, the discomfort touching or consuming anything cold (the chemo), the constipation and the first time you ever had to stick something up your backside so you can go. The horrible chemo drinks. Being wheeled away for that massive op, it’s a goodbye that you don’t forget. Those bloody drains you had to carry around in hospital when they had you walking. Mouth so dry, only getting food by feeding tube. Brief moments when it felt like you were really losing your mind (drugs). I don’t mean hallucinating; I mean being aware that you are really losing control.
Despite all those bad bits I never had to deal with the thought I might not survive, others had to take that onboard. Perhaps, thankfully, I was just a bit naïve.
Will it come back? the cancer I mean. I don’t know. Has my life been cut short? I’m not sure how long we’re supposed survive after the big op. Is it the same as everybody else or do we not get so long? I’ve no intention checking it out on Google.
I’d like to help people who have cancer, especially oesophageal cancer. But what about those who’s cancer is terminal? There isn’t a cure, usually just some drastic surgery. Sitting up going to sleep is a small price to pay for those of us that come out the other side. Should I feel guilty for that? No severe pain no disability, I don’t look like I had cancer at all albeit a little thin.
I fear death like most of us do. But maybe we fear the death of others most of all. If death is dream we never wake from it is surely a nightmare our loved ones suffer over and again.
