How Am I Doing?

"How are you doing?" is probably the most complicated and difficult question for me to answer right now... and yet, also probably the most popular one asked by people when they see me.

There is no simple or easy answer... and honestly saying "good" as we all seemed trained to say in response to that question isn't quite true/fair for me.

The complexity of the answer lies in that i'm a hodgepodge of physical/emotional statuses that don't always fall into "Good" or "bad".

For example, physically... My last treatment was the worst one yet. I had a fever of 103, was shaking uncontrollably, and once again vomited for about 5 hours. This left me dehydrated, gave me a terrible "burning" during urination (isn't that the best!), and did some major mental damage (more on that later). I've also been nauseous ALL week... and to a level like never before. All different times of day, SURPRISE, room spinning stomach clenching nausea. This is new, unexpected, and extremely annoying.

But physically... I also seem to be doing good. The symptoms of the cancer itself have disappeared and my doctor and I are both optimistic that my PET scan in 2 weeks will come back clear. So cancer's getting better... and chemo and my body are getting worse. Starting to see the complexity?

Mentally/Emotionally... yea, all over the place again. The intense physical toll of my last treatment left me scraping for happy thoughts, distractions, and inspirations to keep me "hanging on". And I had my first moment on this journey were I doubted if I could hang on... both for that day, and for 5 more treatments. I suddenly faced the "what if I don't make it?" question which I had never previously allowed myself to entertain. I'd constantly answered "I'm doing well, staying positive" when people had asked how I was doing... and for a while there, I really believe I was. Those answers were part of my game... the "things are as normal as possible, i'm fine, this is a speed bump in life" game. While that was a great strategy for the beginning, the game began to wear thin with the most recent, more difficult, treatments.

And so, while some cancer patients did the mental prep work upon diagnosis to face their own mortality and figure out what to do when physical/mental strength runs out, I suddenly found myself in the middle of a battle with no boot camp training. Because of the extremely high cure rate and my initial positive physical reactions to the chemo treatments, I was never going to have to think about those things that all other cancer patients process! HA! Fortunately I know that I may have lost the battle during that one moment, but that I have not lost the war. And that I have 2 weeks to prep myself and do all the "mental homework" until I face the next battle. I also invested in some new weaponry (a prescription for Ativan to fight the nausea and steroids to help with treatment day woes). I've got some great "war advisors" helping me refocus, rationalize, and dig out new sources of inspiration. I'm ready to say bring it on, but I'm hardly confident yet in the battle's outcome! Nevertheless, I know I just can't "give up"... but boy am I getting tired.

So how else am I doing? Well I went to a beautiful wedding of two great friends on Saturday night and had a wonderful time catching up with old co-workers I hadn't seen in years. I really enjoyed myself, and lived it up (though passing on those gin lemon fiz drinks during cocktail hour was SO difficult!). I was so happy to be there on such a special day for both of them. I guess I'm just happy to be... and to be healthy enough to enjoy being. I also enjoyed a free massage at the Carlyle Hotel today, which was very relaxing (after a rough week, friends with connections are priceless). I got slightly emotional at the very beginning of the massage when I realized that this was the first positive thing that I was doing for my body in a really long time. Every 2 weeks I poison my body and try to recover. This time I was honoring my body and "treating" it in ways that are completely opposite my "chemo treatments." The whole massage experience did prove to be very relaxing, even if I was nauseous again 30 minutes later!

So don't stop asking the "how are you doing?" question... I like the attention/support/concern. But just don't expect an answer. The days of "great, staying strong" are probably over. I had used the movie Life Is Beautiful as a source of inspiration through this journey. I liked how the protagonist took an awful situation (a child in a WW II concentration camp) and turned it into a make believe game so that the situation no longer seems as scary. Well, that may have worked in that movie or for that situation, but I think it's use in my journey is starting to fade. Reality is setting in... physically, emotionally, and mentally. And I'm better off dealing with it all head on than pretending that Life Is STILL Beautiful at this stage of the journey.