A Lymphoma Survivors Words Amazing Age 23

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rumoret
rumoret Member Posts: 685
edited June 2014 in Life After Breast Cancer
A friend asked me this weekend while I was recovering from my chemo and was high as a kite on oxycodone what the most difficult part about cancer treatment was to me. Instead of actually answering him to his face, I decided to write it down with lots of thoughts to follow. Ignore the immature commentary in several of the paragraphs, remember this is a 23 year old talkin' here

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If I had to break it down, I'd say these have been the most difficult things to endure during chemo...

One, you have a lot of time for self reflection. What you like about yourself, what you don't. And, I've found that there are a few things I really didn't like about the way I act or how things had been happening in my life. In turn you look at a lot of relationships in your life, and realize that you are in fact alone.

I never thought I'd survive, without having my best friend - once he decided to up and leave my life after my diagnosis. I always thought I'd have him, he was my guy, you know that person you can depend on, that person that you can close your eyes and fall back into their arms on a trust fall and know they'll be there. It's an interesting thing survival and life. No matter who leaves or what happens, you still have to get yourself out of bed, I still force myself to smile. But now behind that smile I realize, family is really all you have. You can try and tell yourself otherwise. But all in all, family - and sometimes not even those individuals -- are all you have.

Two, isolation. When you have cancer you spend a lot of time by yourself. You analyze peoples actions over overanalyze why people say or do things the way they do. It's a difficult process because while you are at a stand still, these other people keep on moving. Saying they understand - but they really never will. No one's life has stopped except yours. You may try and force it upon others, but it only erodes your greatest friendships until theres not much left. No one understands the pain, discomfort, and ultimate loss of dignity and privacy that one endures when they are diagnosed. No one understands how incredibly lucky they are to have what they have. Do we even realize how lucky we are half the time? No.

Three, at an early age I've learned how messy life can really be. How it's so messy and inconsistent and unfair, that sometimes you just want to scream. It's messy. That's what I want to tell people honestly when they ask me how I am.

'How's life going Bek'
'It's fucking messy."

It's all just very unfair. And this is not the 'I'm throwing a temper tantrum I hate life, it all sucks' unfair cry. This is more or less there are so many beautiful, exceptional, loving people in this world who deserve nothing, NOTHING but perfection and tranquility and pure love in their life. But it's true.. life is messy, and I'm not sure how many people understand that aspect of how unfair life can be. How there is no justification or reason why things happen - they just do. I become tired when I hear "god can only give you what you can handle.' Or 'this will only make you stronger.' I have endured pain, I have endured discomfort, heartbreak, abuse, lies, defeat, I've seen people I love die inside because of others - but move on. I've listened to others who are going through cancer who have put their life on hold at an early age just to live another day. I've spent incredible, beautiful moments with children who have cancer - how can you not tell me life isn't messy? Look at their eyes. That is unfair.

Life in all its glory is completely ridiculously unfair. And no one could ever see that, unless they were in these shoes. Not only that life is unfair, but that you are alone in this world. That at this age everyone is about themselves. And then we question ourselves, if life is so unfair - why do we try so hard to live? Why do we fight so hard?

If we are alone, in reality. If no one is really there for us (except maybe family) Why do we keep moving? I don't cry because I am sad. I cry because I know my potential, I know what I could be doing, I know what these elementary school kids who have been diagnosed with cancer could be doing, I know what so many individuals with illness could potentially be doing - while other people waste their time and space and thoughts and actions.

I could be doing more. But instead, I'm laying in bed. For six-seven months, wondering, if this will be my last hurdle.

And then the next question remains. What else is ahead for me? What other painful events will come my way? When will it stop. We say there are people suffering in other countries - but yet, besides a few phenomenal individuals do we take the time to think of those who are enduring another form of pain elsewhere? No. We are individuals who only think of ourselves, who compare each other to people we live near or around, not people in other countries.

We are selfish people, in a selfish time. And the frusterations I feel now, I know will just fuel more anger in the next few years. At this point in my life, when I feared, or I guess aknowledged that I would always be alone (in the sense of having a partner) - I'm no longer worried. In fact, I never expect to be with someone who could understand this level of pain, isolation, or discomfort. To have these insane thoughts. No one could understand the toll this disease takes on an individual. So, instead of fearing of being alone, I fear that I'll settle now. And anger will occur.

There is pain in this world that no one can explain in words. There is pain and anger in me and it has nothing to do with hair or lack there of. Or loss of a great friendship, or loss of past life.

It has to do with the fact that people keep moving, and life goes on. And no one's life has stopped except for mine. If someone were to ask me if I wished someone could understand what I'm going through...there would be no hesitation. I wouldn't want anyone to understand, because the only way to do so, would be to experience it entirely.

No one deserves to live like this. No one at any age deserves to be infused every other week. Deserves to lose their hair. Deserves to be throwing up for five solid hours, or being so constipated that when you eat, your insides churn and you feel like your veins in your body are all about to burst. No one deserves to worry about their breathing pattern, or how much they should be able to work out, or fear of eating something that could provoke hours in a bathroom stall. No one deserves to second guess if they're still beautiful, or handsome, or wanted, or needed.

No on understands what its like taking 26 pills in one day. Just to breathe. Just to keep going.

You wonder what hurts more. The physical or the emotional. The loss of a friendship. Or the loss of your physical appearance. The lack of understanding from others, or the lack of normalcy in your own life. There's no easy answer to any of this. Just knowing life is messy , and that you are alone, is hard enough to swallow. But we do, we're forced to see it through our weak, diseased bodies, filled with pills and hounded by insomania. We are forced to see it all. The messiness, not only in our life but in others. In a way, an opening of our own eyes.

And then you begin to wonder if you, yourself, will ever return to how naive you once were - before all of this began. On one hand, how perfectly wonderful it would be to softly fall easing yourself back into a life where none of this existed. Wrap yourself up in blankets, and wake up to normalcy while hiding these memories under your pillow.

On the other hand, I can't imagine how I could live another day without remembering all of this. Without being able to defend myself when I say to people... that all of this , all of life is just one big beautiful mess.

Lots of Love,

Bekah
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twenty-six. diagnosed: 2007, Refractory Hodgkins
treatments: ABVD, BCV, ICE, Auto-SCT, LBH589, SAHA/NIS, SGN-35
Currently on: Bendamustine http://truebeautyneverhurries.blogspot.com

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