This verse and personal writing was a requirement for one of my many English papers at university. We were asked to present three pieces of own writing from personal experiences. For me it could not be any easier. I'm presently battling two types of cancer...carcinoma cancer and leukaemia and writing from first hand experience was a breeze. I wrote this verse because I was inspired by the words of Robert Frost. I found this quote of his to be a turning point in my life: "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about Life…It goes on."
Robert Frost
Things haven't been the same,
Since I’ve been diagnosed.
For a while I pondered,
How I'd go on.
The tenseness inside,
It aches all the time.
That is the reason why,
I am writing this rhyme.
When I heard the news,
I didn't know what to do.
It happened so suddenly
It just couldn't be true.
They said you’re sick,
And we don’t know how.
You'd gone through all this,
Where your life’s at a low.
I cried all day,
And I cried all night.
I say I'm okay,
But I'm not quite sure.
How can I pretend
That I'm not still in pain,
And wipe away the tears
That fall like rain?
I'll remember that day,
The day what was said
And my numbness still
I will never forget.
This is a promise to fight, fight, fight!
A vow I'll keep in perpetuity…
To hold in my heart, with hope and faith,
Until I know, I’m cured completely!
Life is an emotional rollercoaster. Dealing with challenges and learning how to meet those challenges is a process in itself. Everyday I’m learning more and more about my condition, understanding it better and being able to manage and handle it in my stride. By joining support groups and counseling sessions and sharing my experiences with others does not make my problem go away completely but halves my pain, making me better equipped to face the challenges of everyday life more actively and positively. Learning to cope with my illness and knowing more about it gives me the power to be in control without being threatened by it. Taking my illness in stride and feeling comfortable with my treatment plan make me live a normal life. There is never a limit as to how one can cope with the process. Everyone’s process of coming to terms with an illness is different. For me, it was an initial struggle. For months I was in denial. But I eventually educated myself with books, workshops, support meetings and counseling and learned that it is not worth crying over spilled milk, but to get out there and fight with whatever you have left inside of you. Being emotional is a human reaction but allowing that emotion to control you and take over you completely only leads to death and that is definitely not a place I want to be in. I have too much to do and live for. Sadness, grief and sorrow are emotions we all experience. By expressing your emotions with words can help in dealing with the pain. To give words to your deepest feelings, to shape your most painful emotions into verse, to release the pain locked in your heart, this is the true power of the poem.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
MY BATTLE WITH CANCER
In September 2005, I was diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia (CML), a cancer that until recently proved fatal for most patients. I was in hospital recovering from abdominal surgery for intestinal cancer. During my surgery I went into cardiac arrest and had to be resuscitated. While in recovery from my surgery, my temperature escalated and my potassium levels dropped to a dangerous low. Doctors and nurses were running around in a frenzy of madness retrieving blood samples, trying to stabilize my temperature and at the same time increase my potassium levels. I started to hallucinate, causing further concern to the doctors. Also, I was becoming overly anxious and was hyperventilating. The prognosis was not good. Blood tests confirmed what the doctors feared most, Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia.
I’m doing incredibly well now, my blood levels are stable, my chromosomes are all normal, but there is still some evidence of leukaemia in my genes. My oncologists are confident that my disease will soon be undetectable, not necessarily gone, but not discernable by even the most sensitive tests, but hopefully by my next biopsy at the end of February 2009, I will be in complete remission. Perhaps then I can relax a little.
For now, I’m continuing with the treatment that has worked so well for me (four Gleevec pills every day and two Cytosine pills nightly). Gleevec has been around for only five or so years, so data is incomplete on what constitutes remission. I’ve just started on a treatment regime injection of Ara-C, also known as Cytarabine, a chemotherapy drug injected once a fortnight. The idea is to phase out the Cytosine and control the CML with the Gleevec alone. I could potentially be taking Gleevec for the rest of my life. But no one, not even the best specialists in this field and certainly not I, knows what to expect. I feel fine when I’m taking just the Gleevec and Cytosine, but the Ara-C injection totally zaps my energy. So far I’ve had a single dose of Ara-C injection, but the effect feels as if I’ve had multiple doses for months.
I used to feel very sorry for myself and often wondered “why, why me?” which was not like me. I hated that I was always so tired. I hated wondering if a cough is just a cough, if a runny nose is just a cold and if that bump behind my ear is a pimple or lymphoma. I hated having to decline plans for a night out with my friends because I was too tired from the injections and the medication or I was having severe side effects from my chemotherapy treatments. I also hated that I was restricted to just one glass of wine when I was able to socialise with family and friends. But at the same time that I complained about the burden this had put on my life, I’m so grateful to have a life to complain about. When you have cancer, there’s a fine line between feeling sorry for yourself and feeling damn lucky. People who don’t know me, will never suspect that I have carcinoma cancer and leukaemia. When I tell them, they are in total shock saying, “I would not have guessed. But you look so well and you still have all your hair.” It’s strange how people react, associating cancer and cancer patients with hair loss. Not all cancer sufferers lose their hair and I’m lucky in the sense that I still have my beautiful hair. Yes indeed I do look normal and somewhat healthy, minus a bit of weight loss. That’s solely due to my determination to beat this disease, and my positive attitude towards life itself.
I often think about what my life would be like had I not been diagnosed with cancer. But one thing is certain, cancer has not changed me as a person. It might have taken away some of my pleasures and privileges in life but it most certainly did not take away the pleasures within myself…being a mother, a friend, a sister and a wife. It has not taken away my humor, my kindness, my love for others, my generosity, my intelligence, and above all my character and personality. I know I will eventually beat this someday because I most certainly won’t let it beat me. It’s a race I’m going to win against all odds.
I’m doing incredibly well now, my blood levels are stable, my chromosomes are all normal, but there is still some evidence of leukaemia in my genes. My oncologists are confident that my disease will soon be undetectable, not necessarily gone, but not discernable by even the most sensitive tests, but hopefully by my next biopsy at the end of February 2009, I will be in complete remission. Perhaps then I can relax a little.
For now, I’m continuing with the treatment that has worked so well for me (four Gleevec pills every day and two Cytosine pills nightly). Gleevec has been around for only five or so years, so data is incomplete on what constitutes remission. I’ve just started on a treatment regime injection of Ara-C, also known as Cytarabine, a chemotherapy drug injected once a fortnight. The idea is to phase out the Cytosine and control the CML with the Gleevec alone. I could potentially be taking Gleevec for the rest of my life. But no one, not even the best specialists in this field and certainly not I, knows what to expect. I feel fine when I’m taking just the Gleevec and Cytosine, but the Ara-C injection totally zaps my energy. So far I’ve had a single dose of Ara-C injection, but the effect feels as if I’ve had multiple doses for months.
I used to feel very sorry for myself and often wondered “why, why me?” which was not like me. I hated that I was always so tired. I hated wondering if a cough is just a cough, if a runny nose is just a cold and if that bump behind my ear is a pimple or lymphoma. I hated having to decline plans for a night out with my friends because I was too tired from the injections and the medication or I was having severe side effects from my chemotherapy treatments. I also hated that I was restricted to just one glass of wine when I was able to socialise with family and friends. But at the same time that I complained about the burden this had put on my life, I’m so grateful to have a life to complain about. When you have cancer, there’s a fine line between feeling sorry for yourself and feeling damn lucky. People who don’t know me, will never suspect that I have carcinoma cancer and leukaemia. When I tell them, they are in total shock saying, “I would not have guessed. But you look so well and you still have all your hair.” It’s strange how people react, associating cancer and cancer patients with hair loss. Not all cancer sufferers lose their hair and I’m lucky in the sense that I still have my beautiful hair. Yes indeed I do look normal and somewhat healthy, minus a bit of weight loss. That’s solely due to my determination to beat this disease, and my positive attitude towards life itself.
I often think about what my life would be like had I not been diagnosed with cancer. But one thing is certain, cancer has not changed me as a person. It might have taken away some of my pleasures and privileges in life but it most certainly did not take away the pleasures within myself…being a mother, a friend, a sister and a wife. It has not taken away my humor, my kindness, my love for others, my generosity, my intelligence, and above all my character and personality. I know I will eventually beat this someday because I most certainly won’t let it beat me. It’s a race I’m going to win against all odds.
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