[cancer] It is to update, also, mortality

Slept poorly last night, but in a normal way. Also, I’ve failed to post this week’s ritual burning of the chemo sign, but at the moment cannot find the %@*& SDHD card with the images on it. For those following along at home, the usual lower GI follies have been in force the past twenty four hours or so, albeit more mildly than normal. Likewise loss of appetite and the leading edge of the return of food aversions. On the plus side, I’ve grown a bit of hair back, just in time to lose it again.

I find myself coming back periodically to the idea of stopping the chemo. This is by way of a thought experiment or a visualization, not by way of an actual intention. I think it’s me self-checking the process, my quality of life, and so forth. That necessarily involves a lot of visualization of mortality, which is something I spent time discussing with my therapist yesterday.

In that conversation, I articulated that I’m no longer afraid of being dead. The human mind can normalize just about anything over time, apparently, and I’ve managed to normalize my mortality. In a nutshell, when I’m dead I won’t know the difference, so what is to fear? I’m only minimally afraid of dying at this point, though when the time comes, whether it’s next year or forty years from now, I suspect that will resurge. What I am afraid of is being sick, sick, sick. Months and years of this crap. And everything I lose to being ill — time, energy, damage to my daughter’s life and the rest of my family, social connectedness, writing, everything.

Hence the continued low-grade thought experiments regarding chemo. I want to live. I will live, so long as the disease, medical science and luck allow. This isn’t suicidal ideation, it’s further explorations of the mental and emotional space of cancer.

3 thoughts on “[cancer] It is to update, also, mortality

  1. Gregory Feeley says:

    Interesting discussion. Sorry to hear of the lower GI and other complications; quality-of-life issues are important.

    Glad to see you are still able to work on your fiction.

  2. Mr. Feeley summarized everything I would have said, but with less poop humor, so good on him.

    Ditto, says I.

  3. sandra glenn says:

    Hang in dear man. You will join us in surviving that hateful, soul sucking disease. What kept me going was laughter. After all the hair was gone including eyebrows and lashes, I called myself auntie Fester, so did the kids. I tried to find wonder and humour in every day, and mostly did. Although I did have some dark and very, very long nights. Stage 4, eight years ago. You are in my thoughts and oh by the way you are one hell of a writer. Keep on keeping on. Oh dear, I have shown my age. A woman of the sixties. I shoulda stopped while ahead. Let’s rephrase that, an infant of the sixties.

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