Chemotherapy is a medical miracle used to treat many forms of cancer. The process of going through chemotherapy is challenging both mentally and physically. So much so, that I still cannot believe that chemotherapy is still humanity’s best option in the battle against cancer. Chemotherapy breaks the body down, fogs up the mind, and humbles the spirit.
My journey back from what I describe as chemotherapy hell has been a test of patience, perseverance, and faith.
Faith is the ability to believe in something before you see it. I’ve always believed in myself. Even when I couldn’t feel my fingertips or feet, do a single push up, or walk .1 of a mile, I believed that I had the strength to reclimb the mountain after beating cancer.
I wrote this to help me process my own thoughts and hopefully help someone out there who needs an extra push today.
If you’re also in the process of reclimbing the mountain after chemotherapy, this is your sign to believe in yourself.
Please note that the experiences in this article are my own and may differ from person to person.
“The Comeback” period after chemotherapy can feel tougher than the process of actually going through chemotherapy.
When I was first diagnosed with cancer, my initial thought was “Challenge accepted. Let’s beat this”. Soon after, a plethora of complex and anxiety inducing thoughts began to creep in. Facing my own mortality was challenging enough. Combining that with the thought of having to tell my family, as well as feeling unexplainable shame, made the initial period stressful. However, once a game plan was set, I was too focused on fighting and surviving to worry about anything else.
I was lucky, I had a great support system to encourage me in my battle.
I was lucky enough to “beat” my cancer and begin the process of cautiously, yet optimistically, reclimbing the mountain.
Eventually, I had to look in the mirror.
Finding out my scans came back clean was a great feeling. I spent the next two weeks celebrating with my friends and family. The honeymoon period eventually fades. After spending months focusing on just one thing, “now what”?
Eventually, I had to look in the mirror. Except, the person in the reflection was not someone I recognized. For consecutive days, I would look at the mirror with shock, almost expecting a different person to appear. That wasn’t me. That couldn’t be me.
I had no hair on any part of my body. I appeared as though I lost all my muscles that spent years building. I saw a weak man who lacked vitality or any resemblance of strength in the mirror.
I couldn’t do a single push up, just months after bench pressing 300 lbs.
As if my new reality wasn’t tough enough, post chemotherapy complications began to surface. I was dealing with neuropathy, chemo brain, and concerning organ issues expressed to me by my doctor.
My family had been through enough, I didn’t want to worry them any further so I kept most of it bottled up.
I suddenly had numerous issues to monitor and stress about. There were no promises made that I’d ever recover entirely.
Worst of all, I now had a constant reminder; regardless how hard I worked, it can all be taken away in an instant.
So what’s the point?
Eventually, I had to really, really look in the mirror.
The abundance of issues I was facing felt overwhelming. I needed a week or so to process everything I was dealing with. Once I accepted my predicament, the uncertainty of my future, and stopped feeling sorry for myself, I looked in the mirror once more.
This time, I wasn’t looking for hair follicles or any reason a woman would find me attractive. I was looking for a flame I knew was in there.
I looked deep into my own eyes and did some soul searching. I willed my spirit back into the fight.
The months to come would be the most challenging. They helped reinforce the toughness, patience, and perseverance that I developed during my battle with cancer.
A few things made “The Comeback” journey feel tougher than chemotherapy.
First, chemotherapy had a projected start and end date. I trusted my doctors’ ability to treat me. The journey back from the damage chemotherapy did to me, had no end date. I had to navigate a tunnel with a light at the end of it which I could not see.
Second, it was lonely battle. My support system was still there, but it was a battle of the mind for me alone to conquer.
Third, everyday was so unpredictable. During chemotherapy, I knew I was going to feel nauseous on days 6 through 9, and unbearable pain in my joints on days 10 and 11 of each cycle. The first few months after chemo were not predictable. I could feel amazing one day, absolutely weak the next.
Fourth, I had to take it easy even when I wanted to push forward. My body needed time to heal and reregulate its hormones.
14 months later, the bad and the good.
First, the bad.
Honestly, I am fortunate in the sense that there is very little “bad”. I put in the time and effort to rebuild my body, mind, and career.
Perhaps the one thing I could point to is the sense of loneliness that comes with beating cancer.
I often hear people say “Life is a marathon, not a sprint”. For me, everyday now feels like a sprint. I am hyper aware of our most limited resource, time. Everything can all be taken away from me again in an instant. This forces me to bring heightened intensity to everything I do, which tends to confuse or bother most people around me.
I also take very little seriously now. Some people mistake this for me not being a serious person.
My perspective on life is different than most people. I constantly find myself in a position where I need to be patient and recognize that.
Ignorance is a bliss; I hope all my loved ones never have to see life through my lens.
The good, there is a lot.
I am a very fortunate. I believe that my journey has accelerated my growth and I am a better man as a result of it.
Every obstacle will feel small when I compare it to what I’ve been through. My perspective on life has evolved. My appreciate for time pushes me to work hard, but also appreciate every moment.
I can now relate to those battling cancer, encourage them or console their loved ones.
My mind is sharper than ever. I am investing in my body, career, and future.
I am the most confident I have ever been.
I understand how fortunate I am for this second chance at life and thrive to not waste it.
My advice for those going through a similar battle.
Never feel shame and be proud of yourself. There is no such thing as “losing” the battle to cancer. You either beat it, or make your loved ones proud by how hard you fought till your last breath. Be patient. Try to give your body its best shot by eating healthy foods and listening to your doctors. When you’re at your lowest, look for reasons to be appreciative. Understand that it could be worse. Identify the silver linings and use them to better the lives of those around you.
Be brave.
Fight.
The process of falling back in love with yourself is beautiful.
Feel free to ask me any questions via twitter @TPRx11.
Rest in peace to those no longer with us.
All the glory to God.