The new normal:
When I was initially diagnosed with cancer, it was surreal. With the exception of a small, walnut-shaped nodule on the left side of my neck, I felt fine. The news that I was terminal was difficult to comprehend. Over the last 25 months my health has declined, more recently more precipitously. The new normal is a much more fragile body.
25 months ago I would have one, perhaps two doctors appointments a month, generally check-ups to monitor how I was doing. There was no pain nor I did not have to modify my daily life. Now the pain is chronic and the side effects of the multiple drugs have caused me to rearrange my life considerably.
Before cancer, when I was well and working, my life consisted of work, business meetings, and more work. Now, my life is punctuated by doctors’ appointments, trips to the emergency room and an ever increasing number of medical specialists. Originally, I only had an internist, followed by an oncologist, followed by a surgeon, followed by psychologist, followed by a cardiologist, followed by pulmenologist. The good news is that I am running out of organs for doctors to monitor. The bad news is that my general health is deteriorating. What once was an imperceptible decline in my health is now highly noticeable. Although many of my friends still say I look great, very often I feel as though it is an illusion.
I recently went for a stress test to determine the wellbeing of my heart. Before the test, they took a sonogram to get a base line of your normal heart activity. During the sonogram, they found that the right side of my heart was significantly enlarged, cancelled the stress test, sent me to the emergency room where I was immediately admitted. The true seriousness of my condition did not really sink in until I was being transferred from the emergency room to my room and they insisted on bringing a portable difribulator. The possibility of my heart actually stopping never crossed my mind, not until then. Additionally I was handed the health care proxy form, "what do you want us to do in case of an emergency". It is during those moments when you really realize what "terminal" means.
Last week I had six doctor appointments, this week, I had three and a visit to the emergency room as well as an overnight stay.
What is most distressing is that my cardiologist is not sure why my heart suddenly became enlarged. The initial thinking was that I had a blood clot in my lung but after a series of tests that was ruled out. The fact is the best doctors in the best cancer center in the world are not sure how to fix me. That is disquieting.
Cancer, terminal cancer is by definition a degenerative disease - one gets worse over time, whether it is suddenly or slowly it is degenerative. The drugs that are administered, whether they are chemotherapy drugs or others, over a period of time they have a negative impact on the body and cause malfunctions in other organs, other body parts. Thinking about these things in the abstract, knowing that things will get worse in the future is one thing, when the future looms even closer and closer those are the "oh shit" moments.
When I was initially diagnosed with cancer, it was surreal. With the exception of a small, walnut-shaped nodule on the left side of my neck, I felt fine. The news that I was terminal was difficult to comprehend. Over the last 25 months my health has declined, more recently more precipitously. The new normal is a much more fragile body.
25 months ago I would have one, perhaps two doctors appointments a month, generally check-ups to monitor how I was doing. There was no pain nor I did not have to modify my daily life. Now the pain is chronic and the side effects of the multiple drugs have caused me to rearrange my life considerably.
Before cancer, when I was well and working, my life consisted of work, business meetings, and more work. Now, my life is punctuated by doctors’ appointments, trips to the emergency room and an ever increasing number of medical specialists. Originally, I only had an internist, followed by an oncologist, followed by a surgeon, followed by psychologist, followed by a cardiologist, followed by pulmenologist. The good news is that I am running out of organs for doctors to monitor. The bad news is that my general health is deteriorating. What once was an imperceptible decline in my health is now highly noticeable. Although many of my friends still say I look great, very often I feel as though it is an illusion.
I recently went for a stress test to determine the wellbeing of my heart. Before the test, they took a sonogram to get a base line of your normal heart activity. During the sonogram, they found that the right side of my heart was significantly enlarged, cancelled the stress test, sent me to the emergency room where I was immediately admitted. The true seriousness of my condition did not really sink in until I was being transferred from the emergency room to my room and they insisted on bringing a portable difribulator. The possibility of my heart actually stopping never crossed my mind, not until then. Additionally I was handed the health care proxy form, "what do you want us to do in case of an emergency". It is during those moments when you really realize what "terminal" means.
Last week I had six doctor appointments, this week, I had three and a visit to the emergency room as well as an overnight stay.
What is most distressing is that my cardiologist is not sure why my heart suddenly became enlarged. The initial thinking was that I had a blood clot in my lung but after a series of tests that was ruled out. The fact is the best doctors in the best cancer center in the world are not sure how to fix me. That is disquieting.
Cancer, terminal cancer is by definition a degenerative disease - one gets worse over time, whether it is suddenly or slowly it is degenerative. The drugs that are administered, whether they are chemotherapy drugs or others, over a period of time they have a negative impact on the body and cause malfunctions in other organs, other body parts. Thinking about these things in the abstract, knowing that things will get worse in the future is one thing, when the future looms even closer and closer those are the "oh shit" moments.
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