According to the World Health Organization, roughly 20% of the global population will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in their lives. So, having cancer means you get a lifetime membership to an elite club that you never actually wanted to join. Feels special and shitty at the same time, right?
Like most cancer patients, I was in denial when I was diagnosed. I was eating healthy, maintaining a healthy weight, and following an active routine. I thought, “I’m doing everything right.” Then I hear those dreaded words: “You have cancer.”
Before my diagnosis, I was managing hypothyroidism, but other than that, I was mostly fighting off the occasional cold or seasonal flu. I was convinced I was healthy. But apparently, God had other plans. Let’s see how she deals with this!(sigh)
I was furious when I got the news, and then I cried about how I would handle this while settling into a foreign country with minimal support. The loneliness hit hard, especially when you’re trying to adjust to a new place, new people, and now, a new illness.
After discussing all the options, I decided to go ahead with the common treatment plan. I could’ve gone for a trial, but I wanted a fast ticket to “cancer-free” land, not the scenic route. My oncologist handed me a folder filled with chemotherapy meds and side effects. It felt like I was back in school reading a research paper for a literature review not exactly what I expected after my diagnosis.
I was informed about the general side effects: nausea, loss of appetite, hair loss, bloating, hot flashes (because I was on medically induced menopause), mood swings, depression, and the potential for a second cancer. They made it sound like a bonus round, but the odds of that were statistically insignificant. I still wasn’t thrilled.
Signing the consent form was a gut-punch. I’ve signed health-related consent forms for my parents before, but this time it was for me, and it felt different. I was mentally drained just from that appointment. I wasn’t just signing for treatment; I was signing up to stay alive. But through it all, I shifted from fear to faith. I turned to my creator and became hopeful that I’d survive this challenge with God’s blessings, the prayers of my loved ones, and, of course, some seriously strong meds to kill those cancer cells.
My treatment plan was 8 rounds of chemo: 4 weekly doses (for 12 weeks), then a 3-week break, and then 4 more rounds. Since my tumor was huge, I had to do chemo first, followed by surgery and radiation.
The First Chemo Appointment
My first chemo appointment was scheduled for 6 hours. Why so long? Apparently, I have no history of medical allergies, and they needed to administer the IV slowly. So, after getting some steroids and Benadryl through the IV (because who doesn’t love a good nap?), I spent most of the time dozing off. I was alone, but a volunteer sat with me, making sure I didn’t feel totally alone in my chemo bubble.
My parents, living thousands of miles away, called to check on me, and their love and prayers felt close even though they weren’t physically there. My friends did check up on me too, felt good to know that I was in their thoughts.
What they don’t tell you about chemo is that they load you up with premeds so you don’t feel the full impact right away. I swear, I was a walking biohazard. I threw up everything I ate that day and couldn’t even keep water down. So, lesson learned: Bland food is your friend during chemo. You will thank me later.
Side Effects Galore
Now, here’s where things get interesting. I experienced all the least likely side effects from chemo. And trust me, it’s worth a whole other post. My experience was different because I was also dealing with an autoimmune disease, so my level of pain was on a whole new level. I’m not disregarding others’ experiences, but let’s be real don’t compare yours to anyone else’s. Everyone’s body handles it differently.
Before I started chemo, I watched tons of videos and read articles, which gave me an overall idea of what to expect. But trust me when I say, it’s not as bad as the movies make it out to be (thank God). If you’re worried about the side effects, don’t sweat it. Your oncologist has your back with a full range of meds to keep you alive and kicking while you fight cancer.
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