Just like that: my chemotherapy has stopped working.
I feel great. I’ve suddenly gained a little weight. I changed my diet. I started taking vitamins. I’m walking at graduation soon. I’m excited for the summer. I am working harder than I’ve ever worked in my life on school. In particular, I have been working extraordinarily hard on my master’s project which is due in just a few days. I got a job. These are all reasons why I haven’t had many moments free to relax (or to write) in the past month.
It appears that my tumors have been working hard too–because they’re growing.
I guess I thought my stability would last a little longer. I always knew that my chemo would stop working eventually, I just thought eventually was longer than a year. A year doesn’t feel like a very long time.
Every time I thought I was seeing signs that they were growing again, I talked myself out of worrying about it. That tickling pain i’ve been feeling for the past few months is nothing. The fact that my tumor markers have been slowly rising is nothing. The bump on my right side near my liver is my imagination. I have not thrown up or felt really nauseated for months–at least there’s that. Not that worrying about it would have made this news any less unexpected or any less unwelcome.
What do I do on the day after I get this news? The same thing I would have done otherwise. The same thing I did the day after I was diagnosed a year and seven months ago. I get up early. I go to class. I work for a little while with some of my classmates. I have normal conversations. I go see a lunch lecture. I worry about all of the projects and papers and tests I have to do before school is over for the summer. It all feels very anticlimactic.
I don’t mention it. What is there to say?
Having cancer sucks. It was never going to be as easy as just taking pills and getting shots with no side effects forever–that’s too easy.
I don’t know yet what my new treatment will be. But it doesn’t look like it will be quite as “easy.”