Northeast Cancer Centre
When I moved a month ago, I left my old health region. This means finding a new primary care physician, palliative care physician and oncologist. I'm still working on a GP and waiting on a referral for a local palliative care doctor, but today I met my new oncologist.
In the past month, my symptoms have gotten noticibly worse. The pain in my kidney is more severe, and more common, and the other one has joined in, too. Plus, lots of random pelvic pains. Codine is controlling it well, but this is the first time since diagnosis I've needed regular pain control.
We'll be restarting chemo as soon as we can because of this. There are tests and paperwork to get out of the way first, but my doctor would like to have it going in the next couple weeks. Between the first and second rounds of chemotherapy, I had six months (most of which were spent recovering from surgery), this time I'll have around two. I'm doing well, given the situation, and am in good spirits, but the disease is progressing, it cannot be stopped, and the outcome has never been in question.
And as a way to show how completely this experience has changed me, I confidently, and completely without anxiety, asked how much time I have left. And the answer didn't phase me. Human beings can adjust to, and become skilled at, anything.
A year.
Which is an upgrade over what I thought this morning.
From the comments
James Petrosky:I share a lot, but also don't talk about a bunch of things. January and February were very hard for me, having a birthday that was poorly marked (chemo's fault, it was celebrated eventually) when you know, with low but significant, certainty that it will be your last is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. I'm not excited about doing it again.
No, you (everyone) couldn't have done anything to help, or I'd have asked. I almost never talk about it, but the cancer centre does have some mental health support. I've made extensive use so far.