Sorrow - Worries - Fears - and Gratitude

I've been seeing a counselor / therapist for about 3 years, discussing various aspects of my life and how I could make changes etc. Sometimes I felt as if I were just complaining and not getting much accomplished between each session. Since last year's cancer diagnosis, our conversations have changed to how I'm feeling, how I'm coping with stress, how my illness is affecting others, and what I want to do with the remaining time I have.

Yesterday I mentioned to her that some people have said minimizing my troubles isn't good, that I should feel free to wallow in my sorrow and worries. I said I don't feel that I'm minimizing, I just recognize how fortunate I am - in the midst of the unluckiness of being that woman who has this rare cancer. 

Learning to Accept My Weaknesses

Recently I've had to acknowledge my body and mind are not as good as they used to be, even three months ago. In early August I was on vacation in Maine, walking around a small island, climbing over rocks and downed trees, enjoying life. I didn't know that three weeks later, on September 1, I'd be diagnosed with metastatic cancer - meaning the cancer cells had moved from the original location to elsewhere. For me, it was in my lungs and abdomen. 

Since then I've undergone radiation therapy on a specific lung nodule that was crowding my heart, and have gone back into chemotherapy. 

The new chemo regimen is tougher on me than the one I did last year. It's changed me in ways that I don't like.

Preparing For My Death

Today I had my second trabectedin infusion. It's in the tote bag that I'll carry everywhere until tomorrow afternoon, when the chemo clinic RN will unhook it from my port. I'm not sure what to expect these next few days - the first infusion caused me a lot of weakness and lethargy on Saturday and Sunday. By Monday I felt better, good enough to go to work, but side effects continued for over a week.

I've been working on getting a few things wrapped up, such as writing my will, closing out old accounts that aren't used anymore, and sorting through paperwork. So much paperwork! And more arrives everyday.

Yesterday I had an office visit with my oncologist Dr T. He took notes on what my side effects had been. CT scans will be after the third treatment to see any progress. We discussed what would happen if the trabectedin didn't work - "Would we try the other regimen, the doxorubicin and ifosfamide?" I asked.

He paused, and said, "Maybe. But those drugs have even worse side effects." He wants me to think about how I want to live my last year. Trying to fight this? Or just accepting it and going for palliative treatment only, which would make me feel better but not do anything to slow the cancer progression.

If I'm Dying, Why Don't I Feel Like it?

If the new chemo treatments don't work, Dr T said I probably have less than a year to live. Maybe just 6 months.

That seems unbelievable to me, because most of the time I feel healthy. A few aches and pains, this week I have a dry cough and throat, but I don't feel as if I'm dying. I'm working full time, getting things done around the house, running errands, and just living my life as usual.

"Dying in 6 months" sounds as if I should be limited in my activities, having multiple days where I don't feel well, lethargic, disinterested in life. And that's just not what's happening.

This Chemo is Rougher Than the Last

Last year I went through 4 months of chemo treatments. The last one was on December 31, 2015. I really wanted to end it in 2015. Started the new year with that over - so I thought.

The first chemo regimen treated me kindly. I didn't have the nausea or vomiting that seems to be common with a lot of chemo drugs. I tolerated it all well - had some down days, some side effects that weren't pleasant - but I kept working full time through out that, missing just one and a half days at the very end.

This new chemo drug, trabectedin, is not so nice. I've only had the one infusion so far, but already I can tell it's going to be more trouble.