You know you have those books - the rules of work, the rules of life - and so on. In no particular order, and just a month or so in, here's my first draft - The Rules of Lung Cancer.
1) It's not fair. It's. not. fair. It may help if you stamp your foot whilst repeating this.
2) Everything changes.
3) Cancer will be the first thing you think of in the morning, the last thing you think of at night, and pretty much everything you think of in between.
4) Because everything is suddenly about you, you have to keep reminding yourself - actually, it's not. Other people have their lives too, the world doesn't stop.
5) If you're someone who doesn't like being the centre of attention, well, tough.
6) While you are having chemo, your timetable is dictated by chemo. As far as you can tell at this stage, first week bad, next two weeks good.
7) You had better not mind needles. In the arm if you're lucky, in the bum if you're not.
8) You had better not mind taking lots and lots of drugs.
9) You had better know where the sick bowl is.
10) You got insurance, right? Right? Anyone? Bueller?
11) You had better be prepared for a blizzard of information on treatment, benefits, services available to you, times, dates, who will be involved, median survival rates, pills you will have to take, and much much more.
12) Everyone around you is hurting. Try not to have any family and friends, as the more people close to you, the more people you'll hurt. But try to have lots of family and friends. You'll need them.
13) Everyone wants to talk to you, some people don't know how. You know what - this is fine.
14) People genuinely, desperately want to help. Learn to let them. It helps you and your family, and you can't help thinking it helps people to help - knowing there is something they can do.
15) If you're going to get a cancer, make it another one. I should make clear, any cancer is horrid - just unbelievably horrid. And I wish anyone going through cancer all the luck in the world. Just in terms of survival rates - lung cancer, well, it ain't great. Really. Once it's spread (metastasised) throughout your body, that's when you're in real trouble. And - here's the thing - with lung cancer, you typically don't get symptoms, and therefore you don't get diagnosed, until you're at stage IV, i.e. - it's spread. Many other cancers have much better survival rates, but I guess we would all agree, there's no easy option here - except don't get any form of cancer at all. That seems like a good way to go to me.
In case I haven't already made the point, my cancer has spread - bones, liver and lymph nodes. But the plus side is, the chemo seems to be having a positive effect. So there is light.
16) Take all your chances. No really, take all your chances. Both before you get it, and (you won't - I'm sure you won't) after you get it. Live a little more day to day. I think this one, buried all the way down at the bottom, is the key.
1) It's not fair. It's. not. fair. It may help if you stamp your foot whilst repeating this.
2) Everything changes.
3) Cancer will be the first thing you think of in the morning, the last thing you think of at night, and pretty much everything you think of in between.
4) Because everything is suddenly about you, you have to keep reminding yourself - actually, it's not. Other people have their lives too, the world doesn't stop.
5) If you're someone who doesn't like being the centre of attention, well, tough.
6) While you are having chemo, your timetable is dictated by chemo. As far as you can tell at this stage, first week bad, next two weeks good.
7) You had better not mind needles. In the arm if you're lucky, in the bum if you're not.
8) You had better not mind taking lots and lots of drugs.
9) You had better know where the sick bowl is.
10) You got insurance, right? Right? Anyone? Bueller?
11) You had better be prepared for a blizzard of information on treatment, benefits, services available to you, times, dates, who will be involved, median survival rates, pills you will have to take, and much much more.
12) Everyone around you is hurting. Try not to have any family and friends, as the more people close to you, the more people you'll hurt. But try to have lots of family and friends. You'll need them.
13) Everyone wants to talk to you, some people don't know how. You know what - this is fine.
14) People genuinely, desperately want to help. Learn to let them. It helps you and your family, and you can't help thinking it helps people to help - knowing there is something they can do.
15) If you're going to get a cancer, make it another one. I should make clear, any cancer is horrid - just unbelievably horrid. And I wish anyone going through cancer all the luck in the world. Just in terms of survival rates - lung cancer, well, it ain't great. Really. Once it's spread (metastasised) throughout your body, that's when you're in real trouble. And - here's the thing - with lung cancer, you typically don't get symptoms, and therefore you don't get diagnosed, until you're at stage IV, i.e. - it's spread. Many other cancers have much better survival rates, but I guess we would all agree, there's no easy option here - except don't get any form of cancer at all. That seems like a good way to go to me.
In case I haven't already made the point, my cancer has spread - bones, liver and lymph nodes. But the plus side is, the chemo seems to be having a positive effect. So there is light.
16) Take all your chances. No really, take all your chances. Both before you get it, and (you won't - I'm sure you won't) after you get it. Live a little more day to day. I think this one, buried all the way down at the bottom, is the key.
