To Hell and Back...

In order to try to deal with the persistent queasiness, I've tried all manner of things. One of the most recent was Marinol, a pill containing THC, from marijuana. I tried it the morning we went to the acquarium. First impression was that it did not work at all. I was nauseous all morning, and felt otherwise normal. After getting home, I waited a while before deciding to increase the dosage. At this point, I was lying down, and thank goodness. Some time after taking the second pill, I realized I had dozed off. I woke up with an incredible feeling of warmth (side effect), drowsiness and no nausea. This seemed good at first, but soon started to take on a nightmarish aspect. I kept having the feeling that I was dreaming or watching a movie instead of being awake. This disassociation, coupled with a slight paranoia was awful. It took hours to feel normal. I hated it. I imagine it could be useful if I were in terrible pain or vomiting. I hope I never need it! Yesterday, I tried another drug, in suppository form. It was a tough day already. In the morning, the doctor told me that, as I had suspected, my tumor markers had gone up not down. They fear the cancer is resistant and not responding. They will tweak my chemo regimen starting Friday. He told me not to give up hope. But it was hard news to hear. I found myself weepy and afraid all day. I took the medication in the afternoon. It didn't seem to make me less nauseous, at least not right away. But it sedated me. The sedation had a depressive effect, exactly what I didn't need! By later afternoon, I found myself in a state of utter despair. It's hard to describe how awful it was. I could not shake it, try as I might. I was in a Hell of my own making, trapped in my misery, barely able to be civil. I apologized to Margaret for being in a place so dark even her love and kindness could not reach me. I couldn't imagine an end to it, other than suicide, which I would not do, but truly seemed a better option than living in that kind of emotional pain. I was in Hell. I'm not sure how long it lasted, at least a few hours. Then, two things happened. I decided to take an oxycodone for pain, which I knew would also lift my mood. And I realized there was only one way out, which was to come to terms with the worst. I remembered that I was capable of finding peace, even without hope. I started to meditate, breathing and thinking about how my life is connected to a much greater reality. I allowed myself to feel that connectedness to all of life, how unimportant my life and death are in the larger scheme. And, finally, I found myself feeling peace, even joy. This is not the same as giving up. But, by feeling at peace with the possibility of my own death, I can enjoy my life, and face the hardest parts with greater courage. I do not want to die young. But I can face it if I have to. I know that now. And that makes it easier. Somehow, facing the greatest fear makes the smaller things easier as well. I know I'll continue to have bad feelings throughout this. But to know I can pull myself back from Hell itself, is a great comfort. I know this will have been a hard blog for many of you to read. You, of course, don't want to think about my losing this battle. I'm glad for that. But I need all available energy to do what I need to do. Knowing that my death is not the end of the world is something I need to know right now. If I am at peace with either outcome, then I am at peace with the world. Haven't given up, I'm just going to be happy either way if I possibly can.