Holding Out For A Cure

Generally, when you think of cancer, you think words like 'cure', 'remission' and 'surgery'. Since diagnosis, I've learned a lot about the cancer world. How doctors don't like using 'remission' anymore. Now they use 'NED' or 'No Evidence of Disease'. Also, if they deem you inoperable, you are therefore also incurable.

I'm one of the 'lucky' ones who can't have surgery. My cancer is too spread out into my lymph nodes. It's too risky, too extensive a surgery to undergo. My surgeon said it's always possible to find someone willing to cut me open, but he suggests against it for my quality of life. He said that during recovery, the cancer could just grow back.

Because diffused gastric cancer is tricky like that. Their cells can't really be seen on scans because they're too 'flat'. I won't get into the nitty gritty, there are medical journals for that. Suffice to say, I have been living the last few months with the knowledge that my doctors don't plan to cure me.

On my charts, it even says "Treatment type: Non Curative". That's how final it is in their eyes. It was final for me too, for a long time. Despite the hope my sister tried to heap on me by saying at least it's TREATABLE. And that many people live with contained/stable cancer - for years.

Of course, that also means potentially chemo for life. If I don't suffer side effects that are too bad, then sure - I'll take that path. But what if I don't respond? What if side effects are terrible at the start? There's still so many what if's - still so much unknown.

I've been crying desperately seeking an answer. Why am I stuck between such dead-end choices? Either chemo for life until I can't tolerate it or stop treatment and die sooner. Is there no third option? Is there a chance I might choose not to listen to my surgeon and seek out surgery?

Nobody is ever fully in 'remission' even when 'cured'. Cancer leaves a mark on you, your family and loved ones. Many cancer patients, both current and 'former', suffer from PTSD. Hospital visits, doctor appointments, waiting rooms, filling in forms, repeating your information, chemo chairs, infusion pump noises, certain smells like latex/rubber or disinfectant ... all of these flash through my head and cause great anxiety.

Is this what my life will be? My third act filled with nothing but sterile environments, bright surgery lights, vomiting in the middle of the night, pain that can't be managed and endless appointments.

How utterly dull and depressing. I honestly thought I'd go out with a big bright bang. I still hope for that. Hope that the cancer shrinks and just gets the fuck out. I hope that I live long enough for them to have a drug that works at killing the cancer cells. That immunotherapy works. That I'm on it and not a placebo. I hope for a lot of things.

I'm not ready to die. There's a lot I want to do, to achieve, to experience. I can't imagine doing half of it anymore - especially anything involving travel. I can never tell how I'll feel a certain day until that day comes - because my bad days happen whenever they damn well please. It makes planning the future really difficult.

I forge through as best I can. Pop some pills I don't want to take so that I can visit with friends, family... so that I can just live through the pain and discomfort. Trying my best to ensure I'm living, and not just existing.

It's hard, but I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. I can't be positive and smiles and physically present most of the time. It probably comes off as despondent to those around me - but please don't think that. I'm just so tired all the fucking time. I can't process words thrown at me, especially if they involve plans.

My head hurts. My chest hurts. My stomach hurts. My teeth hurt from referred nerve pain - I guess I have to up the dosage on my drugs for that now. How long can I live like this?

I'll build up a tolerance to all the drugs until I hit the limit for how much I can have. Then what? Opiates? It's fucking ridiculous. And because I'm terminal, they're not overly concerned about addiction or long term side effects - because they don't expect me to live long enough for it to matter. Plus, I have cancer so what's a little drug addiction compared to that? Hah.

So yeah, that's where my head's at. I had a scan done today. I'll get preliminary results tomorrow and start my last cycle of chemo for this particular treatment. I don't know if we'll know the next steps yet, but we'll get a better idea soon.

Fun times ahead. Time to hit up all the anti-nausea drugs - woo hoo! :(

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