It has been two years almost to the day. Two years ago I had known about the lump on my neck for at least six months. I had been watching it carefully every morning when I shaved, still there, a little bigger, maybe on both sides, never any pain, not even tender. Finally I went to my doctor. He knew what it was within five minutes but sent me to the specialist anyway. The Process of Discovery. Twenty thousand dollars later, lots of tests later, biopsies, pushing and pulling and looking at me under a microscope later they all agreed with my personal doctor: I had Hodgkin's Lymphoma!
The "Cure" almost killed me but somehow I got away with it. Hodgkin's is the "best cancer" but a lot of people die from it or die from the cure. You never see that in obituaries but my guess is that it happens all of the time. Surgery certainly kills people on the operating table. Radiation kills everything in its path and "Chemo", what I had is like finding a cure with a hand grenade. It is a poison without discrimination and kills a lot of stuff.
In two years I met a lot of cancer people at the Cancer Center and met lots of others in the blogging world.
I have reconnected with childhood friends who have been affected by cancer. Many are now dead and survivors always have that survivor's guilt. What do I have left to do that could be so great? You often wonder why you get to live while others die.
I do a little "art" but nothing special. No reason there. I am reading cheap mystery books now. I read some art books, some history books. Learning to read all over again and now am stuck on dime novels!
There is some guilt there too. Something is not quite right that I could while away the day reading dime store novels while people struggle with cancer.
The World doesn't stop and I know that. It is a good thing. We would all fall off. I find myself short on words. I have friends struggling with death or looking after someone who is in the thick of this battle. I think it is a bit like the private world of the alcoholic. I can't tell you how to survive it or overcome it. I can only tell you how I did it. I am not good with links, not very computer literate at all. Even now, two years later I am pretty amazed when I read my almost daily journal with this battle I did. Those blog entries are from my original bloggings that can be found at the top of my ArtWanted site, HERE. For them to make any sense at all you must scroll to the very bottom and read them backwards in the order they were written.
I have "collateral damage" from this encounter. My feet are pretty numb and my hands feel as though I am stirring a bucket full of cut glass. "Periferal Neuropathy"...Me and Dr. House! I take a couple vicodin a day and that gets me through.
March will be here soon and I am still after that "perfect tomato" so I will be in the green house, my hands in the dirt. Looking forward to it.
The "Cure" almost killed me but somehow I got away with it. Hodgkin's is the "best cancer" but a lot of people die from it or die from the cure. You never see that in obituaries but my guess is that it happens all of the time. Surgery certainly kills people on the operating table. Radiation kills everything in its path and "Chemo", what I had is like finding a cure with a hand grenade. It is a poison without discrimination and kills a lot of stuff.
In two years I met a lot of cancer people at the Cancer Center and met lots of others in the blogging world.
I have reconnected with childhood friends who have been affected by cancer. Many are now dead and survivors always have that survivor's guilt. What do I have left to do that could be so great? You often wonder why you get to live while others die.
I do a little "art" but nothing special. No reason there. I am reading cheap mystery books now. I read some art books, some history books. Learning to read all over again and now am stuck on dime novels!
There is some guilt there too. Something is not quite right that I could while away the day reading dime store novels while people struggle with cancer.
The World doesn't stop and I know that. It is a good thing. We would all fall off. I find myself short on words. I have friends struggling with death or looking after someone who is in the thick of this battle. I think it is a bit like the private world of the alcoholic. I can't tell you how to survive it or overcome it. I can only tell you how I did it. I am not good with links, not very computer literate at all. Even now, two years later I am pretty amazed when I read my almost daily journal with this battle I did. Those blog entries are from my original bloggings that can be found at the top of my ArtWanted site, HERE. For them to make any sense at all you must scroll to the very bottom and read them backwards in the order they were written.
I have "collateral damage" from this encounter. My feet are pretty numb and my hands feel as though I am stirring a bucket full of cut glass. "Periferal Neuropathy"...Me and Dr. House! I take a couple vicodin a day and that gets me through.
March will be here soon and I am still after that "perfect tomato" so I will be in the green house, my hands in the dirt. Looking forward to it.
