In fact, it quite honestly makes me want to punch someone. And I wouldn't say I'm a violent person.
But today, I'm just mad. And I don't feel like being positive. And I don't understand how the "First, do no harm" of the medical profession applies here. Ok, first do no harm- what I understand to be the first "law" of medicine. Except for chemo. Then FIRST, DO HARM. Then the rule applies. Maybe. But after 5 years, probably you're shit out of luck. If we're looking at numbers. Maybe you'll be one of the lucky ones with no long term side effects down the road. But hey, you won't have cancer! You might just have other stuff forever. Yay? Don't tell me that the "harm" is actually good because it's eradicating cancer cells. WE ALL KNOW that is what it is supposed to do. But let's look at everything else it is doing as well.
It also makes me mad that I feel like we lost months where we maybe could have avoided this aggressive treatment of chemo. Meaning after Oliver's surgery in October, maybe some changes could have been made to lifestyle, to mental/spiritual health, to nutrition, that would have set his body up for not such aggressive growths. We kind of all naively thought (and quite truthfully, wanted to believe) that after the surgery, everything was gone and so he would be fine. And went back to life per usual. I'm not suggesting that we could have changed course- maybe? maybe not?- but perhaps we should have tried harder.
It's impossible to know. And you'll drown yourself with the what if's. But you still kind of go there, ESPECIALLY when you think about man, what if we could have avoided some extent of THIS.
I understand that this particular treatment has a success rate in testicular cancer. I know that there are often no other options. But I just can't help but try to reconcile that there HAS to be a better way of treating cancer than damn near killing a person, or at least making them feel like they are dying. Clearly, I have no hand in the cancer industry- research, treatment or otherwise. I'm just an accountant and a mom who thinks that something is just so messed up with it all, and that's saying it nicely. I don't have the answers, and I am truthfully just venting. But I have to believe somewhere deep down that there is a better way. Maybe immunotherapy is making strides. Maybe some combo of western medicine along with more non-invasive efforts of allowing the body to use the tools that it inherently has to heal itself.
This is not an uplifting post. This is not really living in the moment and focusing on hope. This is really just an overall disgust in the process of trying to heal something that is beyond your control and in that process you see someone suffering beyond belief. Someone who is a 22 year old who 100% DOES NOT deserve this. You sort of go down this path when you are completely and utterly helpless, and you just get mad. And, that's where I'm at this morning. I'll breath, I'll find the positive (there are so many!) but chemo? It sucks.
Day 48: Round 3, day 3- more than halfway through this 5 day block. The team left for Seattle early this morning to head to Seattle for another early morning treatment start. Justin and I stayed behind again to juggle the little kids and work commitments. It totally sucks as we WANT to be at treatments, but also know that Oliver is comfortable there/sleeps all day. The real work comes when he is home and utterly uncomfortable. Without anyone to watch the kids, and both of us trying to stay working, we've kind of had to come to peace with this the last couple of days (and luckily he has Colleen there with him, too!)
It took 3 tries to get his IV in yesterday again. I guess another side effect of the chemo is that it makes it harder to access the veins (which is why most people do go with a PIC line or port). He is super hydrated this week due to hydration during the treatments, so that is not the issue.
At home, B-nut actually got a shirt on today. First shirt attempt since he broke his collarbone!
Justin and the kids left for Seattle at around 11am. Here they are with Colleen watching cheerleaders. For some reason Owen has had the cheerleader song in his head on repeat. He didn't realize that cheerleaders could also be boys- so here they are getting educated. Ha!
Of course the kiddos only last so long in the room, and so left on a walk in the surrounding areas of Seattle.
At the end of the day we were able to get a picture with Casey and Oliver. Love it. We LOVE Casey, but would love to also not see her again (at least working)! Hoping that after this round we are done! As Colleen said, Oliver had to dig deep to take these pictures. He has been at about a 8.5-9 on the scale- super nauseous. Super tired.
Once home, he just crashed. He just feels like absolute crap. Wanted a bowl. Thought he would puke. We kept up on his meds, but as he described it, he said it's just a surreal feeling of feeling like everything in your body just wants to come out. Like it's just completely torn up inside.
The boys spent the evening driving RC cars. All 3 of them!
And I took a walk to try to find some peace and serenity in all of this. To know we are doing the right thing. To remember the positives: the pulling together of our family, finding new relationships, having a reason for change and a greater good, and ultimately, hopefully, healing the cancer that got us all here and coming out of it stronger and more unified. There is a purpose. I do believe that. But, the process of getting to a point of seeing that purpose through the hell of parts of the journey can sometimes be overlooked. But we keep marching on knowing that the days of hell will eventually be over, and we'll come out on the other side. #oliverstrong.
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