The light of dawn slowly invaded my heavy solitude. Each day was to be treasured as none before. Isn’t that what I was supposed to think?
I had become totally engrossed in this new, scary, distorted view of life. I was so thankful that my mother, after flicking through the text, broached the subject.
The information which had knocked the very fight from my soul was, although not totally inaccurate, not really applicable. Sure there was a chance that my body would not respond favourably to the planned treatment. That I would relapse in the predicted time was a definite possibility. But it was not the certainty described in the book. I did have that chance of recovery, that was denied to patients diagnosed only a few years before.
I had many things in my favour.
I was young, strong and fit, which is a definite advantage in both fighting the disease and in coping with the intensive treatment. The disease had been caught in its relatively early stages, so that my absolute minimum period of hospitalisation was reduced from six weeks to three-and-a-half weeks. I had an extremely supportive group of people around me, and the treatment being used was an improved version compared to that used before.
It was explained to me that previous courses of chemotherapy had failed because the drugs found difficulty penetrating into the central nervous system - the spine and cranium. So radiotherapy, and drugs injected through the backbone into the spinal fluid, were used to achieve a full coverage of the body. It made sense. It gave me confidence.
I now realised that no one had lied to me, but the worst possibilities had not been described in full. I didn't mind, because one of my greatest weapons in the fight was self-confidence, and an unshakable belief that all would be well.
With renewed commitment, I faced the months ahead. I look back with gratitude that this night of despair was a once off.
Further Chapters to follow soon.
