DYING IS NOT AN OPTION – Installment – 14
I go back to the Mayo on February 19th for my regular three-month checkup. I always freak out a week or so before the scheduled appointments, reading everything on the Internet I can find about the latest in potential leukemia treatment options (just in case the time has come to begin the process of shrinking the progressing and enlarging nodes within my lymphatic system.)
I checked in my magnifying mirror for enlargements beneath my arms yesterday and was shocked at how much the nodes had enlarged (in the armpit area) within the last three months. Some of them are at least three inches in diameter, and the actual tailings (ends) of the swollen cancerous nodes are pressing into my breast tissue by a few inches. Three months ago, a node within the left armpit was pressing slightly into my breast tissue, but now, both sides have really expanded their size and invasion. This is alarming to me and I’m going to make an appointment with my local family physician and get a mammogram done. (Better safe than sorry.) I’m aware that secondary cancers are pretty normal in CLL patients, so I’m opting on the side of caution.
I still feel fairly healthy. I get tired easily, and get headaches now and then. Sleeping on my left side (for some reason) is a big fat no-no. I wake up with what feels like a huge bubble in my throat, and gasping it down my windpipe is the only way to get my lungs going again. Weird? I’m usually dreaming that something is caught in my throat. A big wad of gum, or candy or something, then I awaken, and have to sit up, and actually swallow the bubble. Strange, eh? The reaction must have something to do with the nodes on that side of my neck. It doesn’t seem to matter if I have my night oxygen on my nose or not, it still does the same thing. So, the solution for me is . . . no sleeping on the left side. (My favorite fetal position to sleep in.)
Something akin to lightning struck me profoundly the last few weeks and the awakening of my mind to the realities of my leukemia treatments, and the ensuing battle ahead of me due to those treatments. The white bolt struck me down like a rock thrown into a still pond. I realize now that I must remain tremendously strong of heart and vigilant of mind to go (all the way) through the leukemia process. I’m aware that there is no cure for my type of cancer and that I have three negative markers to do battle with in my time line and future. Ultimately, the negative prognostic markers will prevent my body from accepting the on-going therapies for any length of time. As each therapy is re-administered, (following re-growth of the nodes) the chances for my survival grow dimmer and dimmer. The actual chance of my dying from a respiratory illness, organs shutting down, serious infections, and other acute problems due to the life-saving therapies are a high 60%. That’s a pretty scary thing to think about. But . . . think about it, I did!
When is it time to make the call to the super-universe that the quality of one’s life is over? And where does one find the strength to accept that the quantity of one’s life . . . is finished? I hope and pray . . . that, “I find the strength within my spiritual self to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom outside my body and mind to know the difference.” Facing those decisions and finding the answers for me, is the first step in taking charge of my own life. I am the type of person who needs to find definite solutions to potential problems . . . then, if there are no acceptable solutions, then I need to make a personal (steadfast) choice about whether I desire to live with the potential pain and heartache at the end of my journey here on earth . . . or not. I’ve decided I need to be ‘fully’ and ‘completely’ in charge of my life. If this is at all possible, this is the course I intend to take. Make my own choice, within my own time line.
In the meantime, I’m on schedule with my dreams and goals. I relish and enjoy the time I have and the immediate time ahead of me with joy and a light heart. Yes, I become sad at times and experience the normal fears and tears. I’m not angry at anyone, just mother time and her short breathe of life.
If I could portray anything of value to anyone at all, it would be to live every day as if you were going to die within five years. You’d find you’d let go of so much that is unimportant and trivial. My favorite saying now is . . . “That’s ‘not’ on my list of importance.” That includes slights, anger, and pettiness. To do unto others as you would like them to do unto you, is truly the right way. Life is too damned short and precious for anything else.