Today was not a great day for me. Stomach upset dominated.
“Do you want to go to the doctor?” Helaine asked.
Not that bad. But after a while the discomfort becomes cumulative. A little tummy gurgling becomes the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back.
Here’s my weird realization of the afternoon: None of my pain these past few months is actually from my cancer!
I walked into the hospital for my Whipple feeling better than I had in years. They fixed that.
I’ve had a bunch of procedures, major abdominal surgery, dozens of blood draws and sticky EKG tabs on my somewhat hairy chest. Each one hurts, some more than others. I am feeling the product of doctors and medicine, not my cancer.
You have to accept this fact if you’re going to participate. If you want to live longer you have to play with some pain. So far there’s been none beyond my ability to cope. I know I wear my bad days on my sleeve which is unfair to my family.
Helaine did a back-of-envelope calculation at dinner. If all goes well my chemo/radiation/chemo should end by May. I’ll still needed to be tested on a regular basis but things should calm down. Pancreatic cancer treatment never really ends.
In 50 years will we look back at my treatment the way we look at blood letting and leeches today?