The percentage of edge.
Ding ding round 3,
my journey on the cancer seas.
Its dawn, the birds are up and singing and the sun is casting a bright glow over the garden. Idyllic. And yet not. Its an odd thing being so isolated from the outside world, everything becomes magnified including the crazy state of things out there. I feel ironically safe within the midwinter of my cancer treatment on round 3 of 6, safer than friends negotiating an ever challenging environment. I don’t watch the news or TV, and yet the information still filters in, leaving me restless and worried for you all and for me in how on earth to navigate my life on the other side of this.
At a certain day in each of the rounds I hit a dark wall, the last two rounds have brought me to my knees emotionally. I reached out and you all reached back. This time the flavor is different. I feel blunt, edgy and almost mutinous. As if there is an internal battle for supremacy on a ship out at sea. The fracas is to do with my sense of hope in the face of not just this cancer story, but also with the state of the world. Its an internal struggle that’s running through us all in these times. Some would say my only real work at the moment is to get through the chemical purge and live well in remission. Yet we all need context, so I’m lazering down my focus to the smallest of moments of awe. Its all I can do right now. The feel of the cat fur under my hand, the beam of light that hits the grassy edge, the iridescent glow of ash leaves hit by full sun, the tiny orchid nestling in the tall grasses. In the small I find some solace, while I nurse my hope for us all back to life.
In amongst my edges I feel grateful for the lessened percentages of the chemicals this time round. It was a hard negotiation with the medical team and a valuable lesson in bringing myself to the table even in the face of the considered science. The normal state of affairs is that you are put on 100% concentration at the start of treatment and then if its too much its taken down. What most folk don’t know is that the efficacy of the chemo is not diminished greatly with a slightly lessened dose. Most folk don’t question. I did. Its just who I am. I couldn’t get my head around why they would consider the same dose relevant for a person half the size of many of the other folk having treatment. So I countered this at the start of the course. One hundred percent was taken down to eighty seven, and this round its down to eighty percent concentration. The side effects have been pressing as ever, with constant nausea, bone deep tiredness and an ear infection. Nonetheless, significantly less crushing than the first two rounds. A strange win for hope.
I’m lucky enough to be doing the treatments as a safety measure at this point and recognise that it may be a different story if I were dealing with metastasis and tumours in my system. Yet when I reflect, I still think its an important conversation to broach with your medical team should any of you ever be in this place. On the basis there is no one fit for all. In a small way it exemplifies the tricky conversations we need to be having in our worlds. Nothing can be taken for granted, neither side can be given the ground to coerce the other. It all needs to be a respectful conversation and a mutual decision. After all we are in this together, be it medical intervention to a cancer, or any of the rest going on out there. Humanity. Messy aren’t we? Be safe, try to be kind to yourselves and others, especially the ones you find challenging. And I will continue to do my bit to find hope and balance on this journey of mine.
