The first thing that people say not to do when you're diagnosed with cancer (or any disease, really) is to GOOGLE IT. I on the other hand, would rather know the worst possible outcome, and work my way backwards - a twisted way to manage expectations, I suppose. Obviously this approach is not advisable for everyone, but I'm a firm believer that it's important to make informed decisions, especially when it comes to matters of life and death.
(I'm the sort of person who 'ummm's and 'ahhh's over buying something as mundane as a new iron. It's only after scouring countless websites for reviews (and of course, discounts) that I finally take the plunge and press the 'Buy it now' button. Even after it arrives (and much to my partner's dismay), it usually sits in its box for about a month, or at least until the last day for exchanges and refunds has past - whichever comes sooner.)
Even I admit that whilst this might be overkill, I think for once the hours of research I've done scouring the internet, has paid off. The biggest thing I learned: chemo is not the only option.
To chemo or not to chemo?
I think for most people, the other 'big C' apart from 'cancer' is probably 'chemo'. Did you know that chemotherapy is carcinogenic, that is, cancer-causing? Neither did I. How screwed up is it that the very therapy that's supposed to treat your disease is simultaneously causing what it's supposed to treat?! This has huge implications as it's not uncommon for people have a recurrence a couple months or years after their initial 'remission', returning this time as another form, or even more aggressive than before.
The second huge lesson for me was that chemotherapy is given with two broad aims - curative and palliative. In my ignorance, I always thought that chemotherapy is given with the former in mind, with the aim to cure. But what I didn't realise, like my dad who probably fell in the latter category, is that chemo can be given simply to 'buy time' and extend the patient's lifespan by mere months.
Without going into the conspiracy theories of 'Big pharma' and corrupt oncologists making money off private healthcare (thank god we have the NHS), you do start to wonder if chemo is only solution. After all, chemotherapy is the 'first-line' treatment, the obvious go-to - what if there alternatives?
I called the Macmillan hotline last week and had a lovely chat with a specialist nurse. Her broad Scottish brouge felt like a warm cuddle as we chatted about my diagnosis and how I was feeling. As unbidden hot tears streamed down my face, I told her I've seen the ravages of chemo first hand with my own father. While there will never be a way to know how much 'good' the drugs have done (i.e. how much his life was extended), I have no doubt that his final months would have been much less painful, much less undignified, had he not agreed to the final round of treatment. My silly dad apparently asked for more after his 6th round, even when doctors said there was nothing else they could do. Such was his sheer stubbornness and fighting spirit.
I said to the Macmillan nurse I'm considering something crazy - not doing chemo at all. Instead, I would looking at alternative therapies such as healing myself through diet and herbal supplements. Others would probably have scoffed, but this lady was actually very open and heard me out, but reminded me that it's important to remember that chemo has lots of empirical evidence behind it, and that in her experience, she's seen many people cured. Having chatted to the bf, he feels that I have more to lose, especially since lymphoma is a very curable cancer and it wasn't like I was in the final stages of a very advanced diagnosis with nothing else to turn to.
I'm still undecided. Time to talk to mum next - after all, mother knows (nags) best.
