First, the Good Stuff

Good Stuff First, I suppose:

       We're midway through June now, and it's safe to say that the drug trial I participated in did in fact work.  Safer to say I must have gotten the actual drug and not a placebo as well.
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       The trial, meant to deal with the debilitating neuropathy that plagued me post-chemo, involved 4 days of twice daily injections after weeks of lead-up and prep.  On the 3rd day, when I'd given up on either getting the real drug, or of it working if I had- I had a sudden shift between the first and second injection that day.
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     The change was almost miraculous, I went from weeks of being at a 9 on a pain scale, from a 10 that morning... to a 5- in a matter of 4 hours or so.  And it was absolutely revolutionary.  Ever since my last round of chemo, my pain had been progressively getting worse.  I was using a cane to walk.  And by the time the trial started- I'd reached a point where I couldn't use my camera- the numbness and pain in my fingers was so bad that it was difficult (sometimes impossible) to even depress the shutter.
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     And then the trial happened.  And my day 3 miracle, and suddenly... it was a weight lifted from my body.  And over the next few days- the pain went from a 5 to a 3, to a 2, to ... well... negligible.
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     And for nearly 2 months that's been the state of affairs.   A few weeks ago, I started to have the discomfort return to my feet at nights (with pain when a particularly bad storm comes through), and numbness in my fingers/hands (the most worrying thing to me to be honest).   But so far, it's not been bad enough to warrant reporting.  I changed some things in my schedule, cancelled an event I'd booked to photograph just in case.  And Monday, I think I'll probably reach out and see about getting a pain pill refill for when the nights get bad.
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      But for the most part- it's been an almost blissful 2 months.  Remarkable really.  I'm hopeful that by the time I need a "booster" of the trial drug that it will be available to me.  They've assured me that it will.  2 Months is about the limit of their "typical" potency.  And in a week I'll be right exactly at the 2month mark.
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     So that's the good news.   In addition to my restored (for the time being) mobility, I've felt better than I had in years.  I forget sometimes how long I was really sick for.  For more than a year before my Cancer diagnosis- I was symptomatic.  It started with exhaustion, being run down, losing energy.  Then the uterine symptoms.  The pain, the cramping, the bleeding, the clotting.
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    I've felt great, I've been able to do a ton of work on the house, something I've wanted to be able to do for a long time.  Something that has become something of a gift to Kris too, as I know she's felt kind of overwhelmed at where to begin with the house overhaul.
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     And now... for the heavier stuff.
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     There is something very surreal about being a Cancer Survivor (intentional capitals).  For one thing, there's just the thing itself: Cancer.  I had Cancer.  I survived Cancer.  I had Cancer.  It's such a strange thing to say, to accept.  I had Cancer.  You think the more you say it, the less odd it would feel, but that's not the case.  I'm officially 6 months into remission now.  I've had one check and everything looks good still.  I imagine I'll be due for another CT check any week now.  I am in remission.  And that's a good thing.
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     But it never goes away.  At least, it hasn't yet.  Any ache, any pain, any bruise, any moment of exhaustion and my first thought- always- is... did it come back?  What if it comes back?  Will I know?  Will they catch it?
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     It's a big weight to carry around.  And I don't know if that ever goes away.  I have to assume that it does.  It seems a bit ridiculous to hold that in my spirit for the rest of my life.   But right now... I don't know.  There's a strangely fluid disconnect between then and now.
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     Because there is a piece of me that is still so strongly connected to that time.  All of it, the physical, and the emotional.  The fear, the pain, the uncertainty.  It's better, now that we have (for the moment) the post-chemo neuropathy squared away (mostly).  But it's so strange still.
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    I had Cancer.
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    I'm 31 years old and I had Cancer.