My recent post on Facebook where I shared about "considering taking matters into my own hands" has generated a great deal of well-intentioned advice and supportive commentary. Believe me when I tell you I am fully aware of the seriousness and severity of such a decision. The "what it's" are all making themselves known and I am trying to diligently weigh them in the light of the consequences I will face. Everything under the sun has consequences. This forty year old man here is fully aware of that. And how I wish now I had made right choices along the way so as not to have to suffer the devastating consequences of the present. More so, how I wish I could spare people around me the consequences they are undoubtedly building up for themselves by their poor choices. Just as I refused to listen way back then I know I will not be heard today no matter how hard I try.
In getting back to the decision weighing heavily on me, I have spent the last few days pondering what I should do regarding the matter of stopping my chemo. sessions. I guess it all weighs heavily on what my Oncologist will tell me this coming Wednesday when I go for what could be my last chemo. session. I plan on letting her know that I feel my body needs a break. Not indefinitely mind you but long enough for my body to have a chance to heal up for a bit. From the responses I have been getting lately I guess I must have made it sound as if I was saying I would never go back to it. That wasn't what I meant. I just need a break...some time off...a siesta in the middle of my toxic induced days and nights.
It may be too late for my poor nerve endings. Hoping and praying the neuropathy in my feet and hands is not permanent damage. Doctors can't say definitively how long this pain and discomfort will last. Everyone is different and the side effects not only vary but the duration and intensity that each survivor has to endure is completely unpredictable. I'm trying to limit the amount of narcotic painkillers that I become dependent on but I'm afraid I am going to have to speak with my Pain Management Specialist (PMS) Dr. Glare and request to maybe go the next level up in pain management. There are moments and days I wish to my sweet savior I did not have to walk or move my feet. The pain has become so bad I have completely stopped wearing any kind of closed footwear and opted for the feet friendlier open-heeled Crocs. Oh, and did you know there exist"diabetic" socks that have enormous stretchability and softness which gently cover my aching feet? There is a whole world I knew nothing about that suddenly has opened up to me. All thanks to this stabbing persistent pain which has become my uninvited guest.
I say none of this to garner sympathy or as they say in my culture "Ay, Bendito" but to make it plain to you and anyone who cares to know...I need a break! A few weeks of unmolested recovery and uninterrupted rest. Better yet, give me the month of April to close my eyes and rest. Forty days in the desert where I may take off my shoes and allow my feet to walk on holy ground.
Just pray for me and watch from a distance. Let my feet lie on a pillow and slowly mend. That is all. Come May I'll be right back in the torture chamber modern civilization calls the Treatment Suite offering my veins and major arteries to receiving the lethal dose of consequences brought upon by the once reckless and promiscuous actions of a misguided youth who never once stopped to consider how bad things could or would get.
In getting back to the decision weighing heavily on me, I have spent the last few days pondering what I should do regarding the matter of stopping my chemo. sessions. I guess it all weighs heavily on what my Oncologist will tell me this coming Wednesday when I go for what could be my last chemo. session. I plan on letting her know that I feel my body needs a break. Not indefinitely mind you but long enough for my body to have a chance to heal up for a bit. From the responses I have been getting lately I guess I must have made it sound as if I was saying I would never go back to it. That wasn't what I meant. I just need a break...some time off...a siesta in the middle of my toxic induced days and nights.
It may be too late for my poor nerve endings. Hoping and praying the neuropathy in my feet and hands is not permanent damage. Doctors can't say definitively how long this pain and discomfort will last. Everyone is different and the side effects not only vary but the duration and intensity that each survivor has to endure is completely unpredictable. I'm trying to limit the amount of narcotic painkillers that I become dependent on but I'm afraid I am going to have to speak with my Pain Management Specialist (PMS) Dr. Glare and request to maybe go the next level up in pain management. There are moments and days I wish to my sweet savior I did not have to walk or move my feet. The pain has become so bad I have completely stopped wearing any kind of closed footwear and opted for the feet friendlier open-heeled Crocs. Oh, and did you know there exist"diabetic" socks that have enormous stretchability and softness which gently cover my aching feet? There is a whole world I knew nothing about that suddenly has opened up to me. All thanks to this stabbing persistent pain which has become my uninvited guest.
I say none of this to garner sympathy or as they say in my culture "Ay, Bendito" but to make it plain to you and anyone who cares to know...I need a break! A few weeks of unmolested recovery and uninterrupted rest. Better yet, give me the month of April to close my eyes and rest. Forty days in the desert where I may take off my shoes and allow my feet to walk on holy ground.
Just pray for me and watch from a distance. Let my feet lie on a pillow and slowly mend. That is all. Come May I'll be right back in the torture chamber modern civilization calls the Treatment Suite offering my veins and major arteries to receiving the lethal dose of consequences brought upon by the once reckless and promiscuous actions of a misguided youth who never once stopped to consider how bad things could or would get.
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