Cancer is a fight

Cancer is described as a fight. Problem is that the 'fight' is not so much a direct confrontation between the patient and the cancer as it is a contest between the treatment, in my case chemotherapy, and the cancer cells. The patient is more of a spectator to the fight. The patient is just along for the ride, depending on secret tests and the outcome of blood sample tests and all sorts of other things that are decided elsewhere out of my presence and the results are prepared and delivered during a consult at the cancer center several days later.

That is what is making this time especially hard. I am currently on chemo holiday, letting my body heal enough that I can go back into chemo in approximately 6 weeks. Right now I am waiting patiently for the chemo, knowing full well it will devastate my life. The chemo regimen I am on is called GTX. It is said to be one of the toughest regimens being used. It will rob me of some of every aspect of my life. My mind will be muddled, I will become forgetful of details, my vocabulary will shrink. My endurance will dwindle, my patience and attitude will suffer considerably. These things I know and fear will come when the chemo resumes and that makes me apprehensive.

During the intervening weeks between now and the resumption of chemo I have to deal with severe anxiety and stress associated with having the cancer and then the added stress of the anticipation of the coming challenges of chemo. I realize the risks associated with having pancreatic cancer so I want to deal with that illness. I want to remove the cancer from my list of concerns because those concerns seem to be on a par with or override almost every other aspect of my life. But I cannot do anything about the cancer right now; in six weeks I will once again be involved, if just as a very interested spectator, in the fight for my life. My body isn't ready for the devastation of the chemo just yet, so I sit, and wait, and dread the coming fight.

Meantime the anxiety and stress of cancer distort my daily life. Little issues become stretched way out of shape. Emotional stress from my family becomes a major issue as what is going on inside me exaggerates the personal conflicts into a weird world of surreality. I can no longer depend on my judgment as to what is an issue to be dealt with and what is of no concern. I cry at the drop of a hat. Even little events in a television show can cause me to get all teared up. I overreact and I under react, unpredictably, uncontrollably.

I have been awake now for several hours anguishing over minuscule challenges I might face in the days ahead. When I try to sleep my mind races and bounces off every little thought onto another one and never stops. When I get up it goes blank as if nothing whatsoever is wrong. I wrote most of this blog entry while laying in bed trying to sleep for the last hour. Today will become another day where I try to sleep during the morning so I can have some of the day left to get something done. I want to go take a chill pill but I am afraid it will knock me out all day. If I don't take one the cycle will certainly get more out of kilter.

I wish I could just start chemo tomorrow and get on with it, get the cancer either gone or know the outcome is certain. Uncertainty is a gnawing away of your vision of life, in this case it is causing a great disruption to everything I do in life. So here I sit, unable to do anything while I watch this bizarre life around me where little things become major episodes and other things don't even register, important or not. Where I can't depend reliably on my judgment and have to second guess my every interaction. And oh yeah, I lose sleep all night while I worry about it all. So I write what I can capture of it down in my blog and try to hang on.