This past week I went through my normal round of tests that are required every three months: blood work, 24-hour urine work-up, and a bone marrow biopsy. The latter is by far the most annoying, as no matter how many times you have had one done, you still do not get used to the little 'tap tap tap' you feel as they are trying to make it through the surface of your hip bone into the marrow.
All of this is investigation, in my case, is to scrutinize the body for the abundance of and/or imbalances in an immune system signaling agent. If they were to find such an imbalance in the lab workups, it would indicate the presence of plasma cells in my bone marrow -- a particular type of which is cancerous. The bone marrow biopsy is a secondary test to "look for" these plasma cells. When I was originally diagnosed in 2009, they found that 30% of my bone marrow had already been invaded by "bad" plasma cells.
This time, they did not find any imbalance. I am still in remission.
The nurses at the Bone Marrow Transplant (BMT) unit rejoiced with me. Some patients do not make it. Some patients live, but their lives never resume to anything close to what they were experiencing before. Some people decide not only to stay alive, but to LIVE. Their lives may be different, but they will indeed go on living, not just being alive.
Some people are so enamored with the idea of "being alive". I FEEL ALIVE is the hallmark yell of my generation. I want more. As Thoreau said, "… and not when I had come to die discover that I had not lived.” For most, being alive is easy. For cancer patients and survivors, being alive in and of itself may be difficult. For all of us … the goal should be to move beyond being alive to living.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Response to friend's cancer fight
Society has conditioned us to think that for every action or every statement, there is an "appropriate" response. Misdeed leads to the asking of forgiveness. "I love you" is to be reciprocated (when true), and on and on it goes. However, there are some statements, some pieces of news, for which there is no appropriate response. I am not talking about statements like "Do I look fat in this dress?". I am talking about news for which you merely stand there in awe, longing to say something appropriate but coming up empty.
A friend of mine is currently dying of a brain tumor. He and I have known each other for some time -- prior to my own collision with cancer. At the time I contracted cancer, we did not really talk about it. We left things at a very scientific level -- both able to discuss the nuances of the treatment plans, and the impact on things like the body and the mind. I am back to living life, and he is dying. Now having both been on the other side of treatment, we can easily talk about treatment plans (although our views have changed), common medication, and common aches and pains. But what do you say, when standing there having fought the fight and appearing to be winning, you see your friend loosing? Do you tell them to fight? Why -- because you did? You want to encourage them that there is the possibility of life after cancer, while at the same time you do not want to oversell what you know to be a precarious situation.
Sometimes, when you have not travailed through something, like cancer, you think that if you were to do so, you would know what to say. You would come out the other side with something. The journey must bring you to a point that situations are no longer awkward. Well … this is not true. What you realize is that the only thing that you can do is empathize with the journey. You can sometimes relate to particular mountaintop or particular valley experiences, but in the end, you cannot express the place to which you have actually arrived any better than they can.
We require of ourselves an answer or response when sometimes there isn't one. There is no single statement that will either make him feel better, or will make you feel better. Sometimes the best thing to do is to merely to sit there and listen -- to allow the friend to paint the picture of the journey he has been and is current on -- and say nothing profound at all … safe journeys.
A friend of mine is currently dying of a brain tumor. He and I have known each other for some time -- prior to my own collision with cancer. At the time I contracted cancer, we did not really talk about it. We left things at a very scientific level -- both able to discuss the nuances of the treatment plans, and the impact on things like the body and the mind. I am back to living life, and he is dying. Now having both been on the other side of treatment, we can easily talk about treatment plans (although our views have changed), common medication, and common aches and pains. But what do you say, when standing there having fought the fight and appearing to be winning, you see your friend loosing? Do you tell them to fight? Why -- because you did? You want to encourage them that there is the possibility of life after cancer, while at the same time you do not want to oversell what you know to be a precarious situation.
Sometimes, when you have not travailed through something, like cancer, you think that if you were to do so, you would know what to say. You would come out the other side with something. The journey must bring you to a point that situations are no longer awkward. Well … this is not true. What you realize is that the only thing that you can do is empathize with the journey. You can sometimes relate to particular mountaintop or particular valley experiences, but in the end, you cannot express the place to which you have actually arrived any better than they can.
We require of ourselves an answer or response when sometimes there isn't one. There is no single statement that will either make him feel better, or will make you feel better. Sometimes the best thing to do is to merely to sit there and listen -- to allow the friend to paint the picture of the journey he has been and is current on -- and say nothing profound at all … safe journeys.
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