Me I feel fine. I don’t have any of the symptoms you listed.
Doc The pathologist was adamant that you have leukemia. You have 50% monoblast cells in your bone marrow. I want to admit you tonight. This constitutes a medical emergency.
Me Let me get this straight. I feel fine. I’m on my way to the gym and you want to bring me in here and give me chemicals to make me really sick?
Doc (trump card) You could leave tonight and I can pretty much guarantee you that within 30 days, you will be in the Emergency Room very ill and in another 60 days, you’d likely be dead. The choice is yours.
Insert discussion between mom and doctor here.
Me Can I at least take my car home and put it in the garage?
Doc (not amused … and not wanting to let me leave to get an overnight bag. Kill joy!)
Doc The pathologist was adamant that you have leukemia. You have 50% monoblast cells in your bone marrow. I want to admit you tonight. This constitutes a medical emergency.
Me Let me get this straight. I feel fine. I’m on my way to the gym and you want to bring me in here and give me chemicals to make me really sick?
Doc (trump card) You could leave tonight and I can pretty much guarantee you that within 30 days, you will be in the Emergency Room very ill and in another 60 days, you’d likely be dead. The choice is yours.
Insert discussion between mom and doctor here.
Me Can I at least take my car home and put it in the garage?
Doc (not amused … and not wanting to let me leave to get an overnight bag. Kill joy!)
It was at this point, of course, my mind began to spin and I think
there were some obituaries being mentally written at that point. But dammit,
this was a VA hospital and I felt like cussin’ like a sailor, although
admittedly, I really don’t have much of a potty mouth. This was one of those
occasions my mom let the “F” bomb drop once we were on our way out to the car.
I think I was in too much shock to let anything out.
A lot has transpired since that day. I’m past the 90-day mark that
the doc told me would be my life expectancy if I didn’t get the chemo rolling
and now still in the queue for a bone marrow donor. The transplant is a
daunting procedure that will knock me for a loop, but I’ve spoken with a number
of people who have been through it and are thriving now. The Leukemia-Lymphoma
Society set me up to talk with a couple of guys who are survivors, one an eight-year
survivor and the other a six-year survivor and I know personally two people who
are about a year past their transplant dates. The common thread is that they’re
alive and doing well. And that’s where my sights are set.
I harbor no illusions about sailing through it like I have the
consolidation chemo treatments, but I’m hopeful it’s not as bad as I have
shaped the process in my mind. I think we all tend to do that. We build up this bogey man in our mind of
what something is going to be and we live in that illusion of fear. Sometimes
it’s downright debilitating. For me, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve built
up the monster of an experience and while the actual event is not really
pleasant, it wasn’t what I had imagined. I get through it and wonder why I had
turned it into such a big deal. I can be my own worst enemy as I suspect we all
can from time to time.
I think that’s why it’s so important to talk things out with
others who have actually been through what’s in front of us. They not only help
us navigate the mine field of our imagination, they can provide the real
comfort we need. Cancer isn’t something any of us should fear. There are things
we all can do to live a healthier lifestyle, but I’m living proof that even a
healthy lifestyle of daily exercise and a decent diet isn’t going to deter this
and I can’t say that genetics played a factor in my case. Everyone in my family lives to be
pretty ancient and self-sufficient. Cancer just happens. When I’m on the other
side of this, I’ll continue my daily exercise and balanced diet. The “new normal” will certainly entail a bit
more vigilance than before, but I’m going to be OK.
And today, I’m not afraid of tomorrow. Yup, I’m a bit intimidated about the bone
marrow transplant procedure as I do have this allergy to pain, but don’t we
all? Actually, I have a relatively high threshold of pain, but I don’t like
pushing it any more than the next guy. Truth be told, I’m really getting pretty
tired of the needles. Maybe I shouldn’t have watched the Frontline presentation: Facing Death. That’s a laugh a
minute, especially since two of the people they featured were dealing with
failed bone marrow transplants. Actually, I watched it because of how I see
death now. I’m not expecting to die, but I do have to face that eventuality and
its possibility, no matter how unlikely, in my treatment. If I can face that
ultimate fear, then everything else is pretty much gravy, right? (Nod your head
here in agreement).
There are a lot of things in life that elicit fear – and I’m not
talking about spiders, snakes, and small spaces. Watch TV for even 30 minutes
and pay attention to the language: everyone’s trying to scare us into
doing something. Advertisers want us to buy their product or else… and then
there’s the danger lurking in our very own kitchen cabinets, details at 6:00…
or the other political party is downright unpatriotic and dismantling our
freedoms… or it’s just not safe to go to the (you fill in the blank). And the
list goes on and on. We give these people even a moment of our attention and we
feel threatened and moved to action as our fight-or-flight instinct kicks
in. Our blood pressure rises and we ask
our doctor if this medication is right for us and we lock our doors, turn on
our security system and become a high-strung hermit that has been scared right
out of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness by the same system that was
created by those noble ideals.
So…stop it!Stop living in fear. Some of us will have bad things happen to us for no reason that makes sense. Some of us will have our houses burn down because of something that no one could have foreseen; some of us will lose loved ones to circumstances we couldn’t have imagined…and yes, some of us will get cancer. But we can’t live like we’re going to lose it all, but rather, may I suggest making the most of the life you have with those that mean the most to you…and that includes *you* today. And take care of yourself now and say the things you have in your heart to that special someone before you talk yourself out of it. Live your life with gusto and intention and make your decisions devoid of fear. Absolutely, weigh your options and consider the consequences, but don’t *not* do something out of fear.
Music for today - These Times by Safetysuit
These
times will try hard to define me
And I'll try to hold my head up high
But I've seen despair here from the inside
And it's got a one track mind
And I have this feeling in my gut now
And I don't know what it is I'll find
Does anybody ever feel like,
You're always one step behind?
Now I'm sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror
I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will
And I know there's someone out there somewhere
Who has it much worse than I do
But I have a dream inside, a perfect life
I'd give anything just to work
It's like I'm only tryin’ to dig my way out
Of all these thing I can't
And I am
Sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror
I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass,
They will pass
They will pass
These times are hard
But they will
These times will try hard to define me
But I will hold my head up high
Sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror
I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
And I know there's a reason
I just keep hoping it won’t be long ‘til I see it
And maybe if we throw up our hands and believe it!
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
They will pass
They will pass
These times are hard
But they will pass
And I'll try to hold my head up high
But I've seen despair here from the inside
And it's got a one track mind
And I have this feeling in my gut now
And I don't know what it is I'll find
Does anybody ever feel like,
You're always one step behind?
Now I'm sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror
I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will
And I know there's someone out there somewhere
Who has it much worse than I do
But I have a dream inside, a perfect life
I'd give anything just to work
It's like I'm only tryin’ to dig my way out
Of all these thing I can't
And I am
Sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror
I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass,
They will pass
They will pass
These times are hard
But they will
These times will try hard to define me
But I will hold my head up high
Sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror
I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
And I know there's a reason
I just keep hoping it won’t be long ‘til I see it
And maybe if we throw up our hands and believe it!
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
They will pass
They will pass
These times are hard
But they will pass
Boy, did you hit the nail on the head, Todd, my friend. All of my life I have lived in fear of almost everything--feeling like I didn't have the right to ask for what I needed, didn't try to become part of conversations because I always felt like I would be imposing, and who would want to hear what I had to say anyway? I cannot tell you how very, very sick I am of living my life in fear. . . most of the photos of me from the time I was a little kid, I have my shoulders hunched and have my hands together in front of me, picking at each other, glancing out with frightened eyes--the classic pose of someone expecting a blow at any time, knowing it is not a matter of "if," but only "when." Awful way to live. . . still struggling with at particular bogey. Not afraid of anything even tangible, just a "something" that makes it so I only truly feel safe when I am in the cozy embrace of my recliner--my savior--my recliner. The best embrace I've ever had--and ain't that sad? Steerage, anyone? - Ella -
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