Spooked

Just telling myself it's not me...

I read the support boards for my particular brand of cancer. There’s a woman on there whose diagnosis has changed from Multiple Myeloma to Leukemia. Leukemia with a 7-month survival rate. On the high side. 
 
7 months. 
 
I think about Brian and what it could mean for him if I were to be in a similar situation. My type of myeloma is already rare and aggressive.
 
My heart pounds as I scour the internet for information. And I’m right down the rabbit hole again. Suddenly, it’s as if nothing has changed, as if I haven’t made any progress against this disease that courses through me, the blood in my veins. 
 
It’s in my blood, this sickness. There’s no tumor to remove, no target to radiate. It is everywhere all at once and all the time. 
 
But I can’t feel it. The only thing I feel is the medicine, not the hurt. I’m lucky. 
 
I’m so young.
So strong.
So healthy…
Well, you know, except for the fact that I appear to be dying. 
 
It’s not you. It’s not 7 months. Everyone is different, and this fucker hits us all in completely different ways. 
 
Logic. What a fucking joke. 
 
I lean back in the chemo chair and look out the window at the city beyond. It’s a nice view from up here, and I wonder, did they do that on purpose? Save the best views for the dying?
 
I turn away and stare at the wall instead because if that was the intention—kindness—then I have no desire to take part. I have no desire to take that little piece of grace and hold it tight. 
 
In my head, I spit on the idea. 

I tilt my head back as if I’m riding on an airplane, and I let my eyes close. 

<<<<< >>>>>

Hello, beautiful readers!

I just wanted to remind you that I am in remission from Multiple Myeloma! I know I’m still posting pieces about my experience, but for now, I’m in the clear for the time being (knock wood). Unfortunately, blood cancer is incurable, but in many cases it is able to be managed with longer and longer survival rates. That, and I’m young and relatively strong compared to many who discover this diagnosis.

So anyway, worry not! I try not to!

Thanks for reading,

Jen