I'd like to say that I haven't posted lately because I've been very busy but that's only a half-truth. I did have a lot on my plate, but I wasn't picking at that, either. Instead I was staring at my plate, wondering why it kept piling up and how much longer I'd have to wait before it magically resolved itself. It didn't.
I used to wonder if this kind of self-destructive behavior was rooted in questions of self-worth; if I was trying to sabotage the good in my life because I didn't feel that I deserved it. I'm not sure it's fair to pin it all to my disease either. The truth probably lies somewhere in between, as with most things. My last round of chemo hit me harder than the previous (though I think that has more to do with how hard I was pushing myself than my body simply reacting poorly) and I remained mired in a fog for weeks. I wanted to work but I couldn't. I felt physically unable to put words on the page and when I forced myself, the result was terrible and embarrassing. Nothing I'd want anyone to actually read, never mind purchase with their hard-earned money. Or, you know, department funding. Whatever. Thankfully my boss is patient and understanding enough to help me find solutions rather than point out faults, and, when necessary, light a fire under my ass. I've found my voice again and cleaned off most of my plate, so I felt it was time to check in.
I'm faced with a new question this morning. The president of the company had another sort of cancer when he was younger and feels that this is a point of connection between us, which is fine. His variety wasn't quite the same as what I had but I'm not going to turn down sympathy and compassion from the man in the big chair. This morning he sent me an e-mail on a new "cure" for brain cancer. It's a sort of supplement called "essiac tea." Well, he's the thing. Essiac tea does not cure any cancer (surprise!). In scientific trials it was shown to have no effect on cancer whatsoever until you get to large enough doses... at which point it may accelerate tumor growth or flat out kill the patient. The FDA has described it as a "fake cancer cure" and Sloan-Kettering has advised patients to "avoid" it. So when my president says, "it couldn't hurt," how do I respond?
I thank him politely, promise I'll look into it (which I have), and hope he never, ever mentions it again.
Anyone else have any similar experiences?