Here’s
a particularly articulate description of enduring chemo treatments by blogger
and brain tumor victim Mark Green excerpted from a post on his blog, moosevt: http://moosevt.wordpress.com/
“The
opportunity to reflect is a gift: what was, what could’ve been, what might be,
becomes part of a deeply tumultuous swirl of emotion from places within I
didn’t even know existed. Because of this cancer I’ve been given this time,
this heretofore unwelcome ‘gift.’ And there is nothing like Jackson Browne to
reach inside my heart and pull everything right up to the front, like the deep
roots of some primeval tree, to unleash a torrent.”
Later
in the same posting he says “After enduring two weeks of chemo in the hospital
and a third to begin Tuesday I’m feeling a little bit like a punchdrunk boxer in the ring: DeNiro in
Raging Bull with fists coming slow, hard and unrelenting. I know I’ve referred
to the Native American character in “One
Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest” who in the end ripped the sink from the flooring
and smashed through the wall, releasing the patients from the asylum.
While
certainly my hospital stays are nothing of the sort, the doctors, staff and
nurses all being top- rate, being tethered (and often entangled like a fish
caught in a driftnet) to an IV pole day after day, having it wrapped around my
legs and arms having to unplug every time I have to go to the bathroom trying
to get there before it’s too late, having it pull on my PIC-lined arm is not a
friend I wish to be attached to. The notion of tossing the entire IV pole
through the plateglass window comes to mind quite often.”
Honest.
Insightful. Painful to read, but well worth doing so.