There is a real life with cancer

Acceptance doesn’t mean resignation; it means

understanding  that something is what it is

and that there’s got to be a way through it.

— Michael J . Fox

It’s another one of those 5:00 a.m. mornings, when I’m up alone with my thoughts.  It’s been a tiring couple of days, days that are predictable for fatigue, and I’ve been taking my fair share of naps.  Today, however, is Day 6 of my treatment cycle when, hopefully, the fatigue will abate somewhat, and I’ll start to feel more energy.  However, still no nausea, and I’m likely past the point when that might set in.  So, all in all, I’m feeling pretty good this morning.

Last night, reinforced by a long afternoon/early evening nap and a lovely meal brought over by a friend, I found myself wanting to spend some time with my boys.  They’d already retreated to their rooms for the evening, but I inserted myself into their private domains for a little conversation.  My days are numbered that I’ll be able to do that, anticipating their departures to college in about 2 1/2 months.  Our talks were not particularly deep — what kind of lamp do you want me to order for your dorm room desk? do you need a new backpack? let’s go buy you a new pair of shoes tomorrow — but for me they were meaningful.  Sometimes being able to focus on the mundane is a treat.  I was much too tired earlier in the day to be able to do much of anything but sleep, so I stole a little of their time just to be alive and feeling well with them.  Just living life can be a real comfort.

The next sentinel event in this treatment cycle is getting my Day 10 (June 6th) bloodwork done to check my white blood cell count.  It’s the neutrophils, I’ve learned, that are the important white blood cells that are most closely monitored.  They’re the first line of defense against infections, so the status of their levels are important to determine how my body is tolerating the chemo.  Last cycle, my neutrophils performed spectacularly.  A normal level for just the average Joe is 2500.  I started the cycle at 4600, well above the acceptable mark to begin a chemo cycle.  My Day 10 level had dropped to 2900, still well above what’s considered normal for someone who’s not undergoing the assault of chemo.  Anything under 1500, I learned, and I would need bone marrow support medication, like the Neulasta or Neupogen I’ve mentioned before.  I passed that test with flying colors.  The body is strong in this one.

Then, I’m tested again on Day 20 (June 17th), the day before the next scheduled chemo session to be sure my neutrophils have recovered sufficiently.   The ebb and flow of cancer treatment.  But, I’ve learned that I can’t spend my time focusing on those test dates or counting the days until the next chemo.  There’s too much living to be done.  The one thing that has surprised me is that there is a real life with cancer, and if I’m careful in parceling out my energy reserves, I can live amazingly well.

It’s in the acceptance, I think.  Acceptance that something has gone terribly wrong with my body, but there are exceptional things that can be done to combat that situation.  I’m lucky to be living in this era of medical miracles.  Lucky to have the friends and family that I do.  Lucky to have the life I have.