From the Bench
A SUMMER ON THE SCREAM MACHINE
Beginning in early June and continuing up to the present, this summer has been like a ride on Six Flags’ "Great American Scream Machine", a roller coaster ride of epic proportions. Chemotherapy can do that to you, at least it has to me.
The three-week cycles go like this. First there is a full day of the poison, accompanied by a measure of steroids and other medications to give you the "don’t care" and "conquer-the-world" feeling. This "high" continues for about four days til the steroids you are tapering down from begin to wear off.
Then the descent begins, when the car you are in begins the plunge that attempts to separate your stomach from the rest of your body. Day five is beginning, and I will attempt to complete this before that occurs.
The next interval can best be described as a week of the twenty-four hour virus, accompanied by side effects that do not need to be gone into.
Then comes the slow climb out of the valley to reach the next peak and start all over.
After seventeen weeks and six treatments, the ride is coming to an end, at least for the time being. Now comes the big test in early November, to see if it has been worth the trip. It is been a journey that no one welcomes, yet it has been a learning experience like no other.
For one thing, you learn patience, a virtue sadly lacking in my makeup. Your spouse or caregiver probably learns more from that than you do, especially in my case. I have been very fortunate in that regard.
You also begin to realize how much the human body can endure, and you are suddenly aware of "parts" of you that you had never noticed.
You learn how important attitude is when you face adversity. More and more, health professionals are beginning to realize that everything cannot be measured by a physical test, and that attitude often influences the effectiveness of treatment.
Which brings me to the most important learning experience of all, for it has more to do with attitude than anything else. That is the power of friendship and prayer. We verbalize it often; however, the water doesn’t hit the wheel and spill forth the truth of that power until we are at our lowest and need it most.
In our hallway, there is a long table covered with get-well cards, including notes of encouragement and love. None of the cards has been discarded. Every time I pass, I am reminded of those who are praying, and the water wheel continues to turn.
And no matter what the tests show or where the journey continues, that alone has made it worth the trip.