Unlike most other medical conditions, cancer has a way of sharpening your focus on life and mortality. Not every diagnosis even comes close to that outcome, but the reality of the possibility is always there in the background. How bad is it? Did we catch it in time? What are the therapy options? Where do I go to get the best treatment? Will I be cured? Will I ever be the same?
There is a phenomenon within the cycle of chemotherapy known as treatment fatigue. Any number of factors (emotional, physical, medication, frustration, etc.), alone or in combination, can bring about this malaise. It may not seem like it, or you may wonder why any person would refuse treatment to get better, live longer, or even save their life. But at any point along the line I had/have the choice to continue with my therapy or not - for whatever personal, financial, quality of life, or other reason.
In my past is the memory of a very dear family member who made an equal-parts brave and difficult decision about their treatment choice. After it was confirmed that they were suffering from Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML), they were offered the ability to extend a life expectancy prognosis from a minimum of 12 months to the possibility of up to 18 months. Six months more, but at the cost of that total year and a half being spent enduring extended hospital stays involving numerous transfusions, prolonged periods of exhaustion, and recovery from those procedures; further compromised by the added constraint and detriment of limited contact with family/friends for fear of infection. They chose quality of life over quantity - and after almost exactly 12 months to the day of diagnosis, never regretted that decision.
(RIP AB)
At the time, I wasn't aware of how this courageous choice would later take on so much more meaning in my life. Initially in my journey, I was not, nor am I now anywhere near there yet. Admittedly, even as we speak, confronting that “Sophie’s choice” seems unfathomable and insurmountable. But it is oddly reassuring and comforting to know that ultimately the choice is mine (along with my family) - as is the case with any cancer patient.
