I don’t know what to name this post yet. I’m not even sure what I want to write about. Setting out to write for the sake of writing, just to see what comes out.
About three weeks ago I went through the by now routine process. How can having your body passed back and forth in a scanner and then waiting the few days for results become routine. Scan and then consultation with oncologist aka god (or goddess in my case). Big thumbs up from her (literally). On a consultation day I wait in a small reception area to be seen. I don’t have to wait very long. The oncologist comes out of her office, I can hear her coming, I hear my name,”Tom”. What am I going to be told? As soon as we make eye contact she gives me a big thumbs up. No words necessary, a simple gesture speaks volumes. I am really lucky to have such an understanding and compassionate woman looking afer me. I think that is probably the most important thing when on a metastatic cancer journey. To be under the care of an oncologist who understands the psychology of cancer and can communicate so well. Giving a thumbs up was SO the right thing to do at that moment. We can then sit and discuss the details. She has had to give me bad news at other times in the past and she is just as professional and compassionate on those occasions. She doesn’t give a thumbs down but she does get right to the point.
This time it was good news. No more fast flowing rapids for a while at least but I am still on the river. I am on this river until it flows into the Great ocean.
It is traumatic being thrown into the river, being told you have cancer. It is doubly traumatic being told it can’t be cured. It can be controlled but not cured. I have never written that down before. Why now? I had a session with a psycho-oncologist today. Another understanding and compassionate woman I must add. I told her things about how I feel sometimes which I would never have dared express openly before. Why now? I am into my fifth year in the river now. Why does it not get any easier? In fact at the moment I feel as though it is getting harder. Why? Why? Why? I going to have to figure that out. My understanding of the nature of things is that the more you do them the easier they become. Well it seems cancer doesn’t play by the rules.
There is no treatment at the moment. I would have thought that I could relax, needn’t have to worry about ‘rapids’ for now. This will be a hopefully long but at least calm stretch. But cancer is a fucker, an absolute ruthless fucker. It fucks with your body, it fucks with your mind and it fucks with your emotions. Cancer doesn’t give a fuck. If it gets a good hold i.e. goes metastatic it will fuck you over and over and come back and fuck you again.
I’m sorry for that last paragraph but you know that is probably what I needed to write about this evening. That is what came out and NEEDED to come out. I am not delusional, I am not a ‘denier’ but I never really confronted cancer to date and never told it what I thought. Well cancer, you are a real fucker, you have certainly fucked me up well and proper. You are really starting to get on my nerves . You have fucked other people I know and love also. So I am acknowledging it ……. Cancer fucks. There is the title for this post. Cancer fucks.
My Canoe Trip 