To ring that bell
It is four weeks
since I rang the bell signalling the end of my radiotherapy treatment for
malignant prostate cancer. From the moment I saw what the bell was meant for in
the waiting area of the radiotherapy department at the Christie Hospital, I had
every desire to make it toll.
For the 20 weekdays
that I attended sessions for treatment, I only heard the bell ring thrice, the first
two times was within ten minutes of each other, and then it was almost two
weeks later that I heard it again. We all applauded at the celebration the
ringing meant.
Yet, the distance in
time from the said treatment has not resulted in the lessening of the effects
of it, I have just soldiered on with the force of will and determination when I
should have taken some time off. That would happen in earnest, and I am looking
forward to it.
Perspective to recovery
Thinking back to
almost 15 years ago; over five months, I endured 7 gruelling sessions of
chemotherapy every three weeks that I was told, I would at the minimum need 6
months to recover. There were many things to recover from, weaning myself of
opioid pain killers took three months after I felt no more cancer pain.
My return to work,
just six weeks after chemotherapy was too much to manage that for the rest of
the year from the end of March, I had Wednesdays off. My ambulatory performance
had me lagging well behind people having a leisurely walk and the recovery of
my sense of taste for different flavours took just about as long too.
Strangely, the
seemingly lasting effect of chemotherapy was it shortened the time in which I
was allergic to pollen from about 6 months to around 2 months. If anything,
recovery from treatment for cancer takes time. We sometimes find ourselves too afraid
to take all the time necessary to recover.
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