2017-11-16

25) Treatment versus the fight

You may have noticed that whenever I'm writing about E's leukemia, I abstain from using "the fight", or "the battle" type metaphors. When you have cancer, you undergo treatment, be it surgery, chemotherapy, immunotherapy, radiation, or some combination. Your outcome is affected by how well your cancer responds to treatment. There is no fighting going on, and in my humble opinion, I could argue that the body's cellular & DNA repair system has lost its battle given the fact of a cancer diagnosis.

So far, we have been lucky in that E's leukemia has responded well to his chemotherapy, and his doctors and oncologists have been happy with all of his bloodwork and tests. In terms eliminating the cancer from his body, E is not fighting: the chemo is doing all of the work. He receives his treatment, and the chemical concoction hopefully does its job and kills every Goddamn cancerous cell in his body.

That being said, there are still fights and battles going on, they are just happening on a personal and emotional level rather than at the cellular level. Some days I have to fight to get out of bed and face the day. Others, I need to battle for patience when J throws his dinner plate on the floor because he doesn't want cucumber today. It's about pushing yourself to smile for your kids when you don't feel like smiling. It's making them laugh and giggle when all you want to do is cry, or crawl back into bed and hide under the covers. It's having the energy and motivation to cook a fresh meal in order to stay healthy, when all you want is to buy takeout and stress eat burgers and poutine. It's recognizing the stress that your spouse is also shouldering, and giving them a break when they're too close to the tipping point. It's taking E to the hospital 5 times in 7 days when your household is overwhelmed by germs and you can't deal with going again, but you have no choice. It's trying to calm your unquiet mind and soothe your anxiety when your life feels reduced to waiting on test results. It's being stressed out because E can't tell you if he's in pain, or nauseous, or feeling unwell and the only way he can let you know something is bothering him is by crying. It's the unfairness of having your son diagnosed with this terrible disease at only 15 months of age. It's the worry that J may be feeling scared, anxious, jealous, or sad about E's diagnosis, and he doesn't yet have the skills to verbalize and deal with these emotions. It's the sick feeling in your stomach that (if/when) he's cured, the cancer could one day come back, and E will need to be tested yearly for the rest of his life. It's hoping that the side effects of the toxic chemotherapy drugs won't give E a chronic lifelong condition. It's knowing when you and your spouse have reached your limits, and you need to ask for help so you both can take a mental break. It's the guilt that his condition could be my fault because he has half of my DNA. It's the torment of worry that this disease could take our son. All of these things are fights and battles, and they will test you on a daily basis.

A cancer diagnosis requires: 1) treatments and 2) fights/battles. Treatments are for the disease, and battles are for living your life through the treatments. Intertwined yes, but it is important to separate the two.

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