My Sassy Boy

With Puff Daddy and Dodge

Enjoying Life While I Can

I'm Going Off To A War

In a few days, a war will begin inside me. It will be a difficult struggle, an effort to hold on to my life. After months of delayed decisions, I am finally submitting myself to chemotherapy. Apparently, it remains the best option to stay alive. My hair will start falling off, my immune system will crash, making me susceptible to infections and my body will show signs of fatigue, with occasional bouts of nausea. These anticipated adverse effects on top of my continuing residency training means I will have a tremendously tough time in the coming months. When I see Christmas decors sold at malls or hear yuletide songs, I am not the least bit elated. I am saddened with the idea of me spending the holidays and my birthday bald and sick-looking. My social calendar will be empty, because my immunocompromised status will prevent me from interacting with possible germ carriers.

My oncologist advised that I start the treatment the earliest time possible. I went to see her right after the biopsy results from the States came out. When I begged off to start it on September 30, she didn’t look happy with my seemingly delaying tactics. I have my reasons. This month has been packed with travel plans. Last week, my co-residents and I sailed off to Cebu for our annual radiology in-service exam. I didn’t want to take the test with a chemo brain though the results would be just as devastating. This weekend, I’ll be off to Manila to attend the breast cancer forum organized by the group of breast cancer survivors of which I’m a part of. Survivor is still too strong a word for me. My survival skills are yet to be tested. This is a group of brazen women who traversed various depths of hell, eluded the tentacles of doom, and triumphantly confronted the monsters of a grim disease called cancer. Yet they continue to shed light on the path of other cancer patients, who, like me have sulked in a dark corner, oblivious to the torch that ablaze ahead.

Three months after being diagnosed with cancer with no battle plan laid out, I didn’t feel the need the fight back. For me, it was nature’s way of maintaining population. We all have to die of something and it just happened that my appointment with death came earlier than expected. There was no point in undoing what could have been written in the stars all along. Going through with treatment will not assure that I will live on. Nor can it absolutely prevent future recurrence of cancer. I may be responsive to treatment but will continue to fear recurrence for the rest of my life. .

To be continued....