⁇ Cancer light – As it becomes quieter

⁇ 15:33 The bell that no one wants to hear

It was a call on Friday afternoon at 15:33. I was just preparing a kwis beer tasting. In a few minutes my afternoon changed from light to heavy. Since then, I've been trying to write down everything that happens. Not to get pity, but to keep my head and heart together. These blogs are my way of understanding, sharing and showing how I deal with this. Sometimes serious, sometimes humorous, but always real.

“Life does not call in advance to ask if it is convenient.”

⁇ Good news with package leaflet

The good news is that the tumor is clearly shrinking. This is not a nuance, not an interpretation, but a visible result. That should be enough to be relieved. And so am I. At the same time, it feels like that news isn't quite landing yet. It's like my head is saying it's okay, but my system is somewhere else. Maybe that'll come later. Maybe not until now. I'm not there yet.

“Good news sometimes takes time to get in.”

⁇ Energy without a hold

My energy is slowly coming back, but it remains unreliable. Afternoon naps are no longer a regular appointment, although I quickly feel tired and overstimulated. Sometimes I can do more than I expected, sometimes it collapses without warning. The trouble is not so much the fatigue, but the lack of predictability. Restoring means living without anchors. That requires more than I thought.

“Energy without rhythm is harder than no energy.”

⁇ A skin that remembers

My skin is healing. She is still sensitive and is lubricated a lot and often, but the blisters are gone and most wounds too. I found out those blisters were second-degree burns, not first-degree burns like I thought before. In hindsight, that makes little difference. They're gone. What remains is the realization that my body has endured more than I wanted to admit along the way.

“The body remembers what skips the head.”

⁇ Stop and collapse

I completely stopped taking painkillers. That decision seemed logical, until my body found something of it. Withdrawal symptoms, hardly any sleep and a lower abdomen that behaves strangely. I slept maybe six hours in three days. I feel every pain again. My throat is painful, but especially irritating. It's like he's fat, like there's hair in it. It is difficult to explain and impossible to ignore.

“What was sedated always comes back.”

⁇ Bowels without consultation

My bowels have restarted. Without warning and without intervention. The pain relief she had slowed down for weeks and now they work faster than food comes in. The result can be guessed. I mainly produce bile. Today seems to be a little better. Less running, gently more normal colors. They're small signals, but I cling to them.

“Recovery sometimes starts with complete disruption.”

⁇ Too much world

Yesterday we went to the cinema. That was too much. Too hard, too busy, too many stimuli. I was especially relieved when the movie was over. Today I went to the campsite with Sylvia to see how the awning had kept itself after all that snow. I realized that I've only been there once in three months. I listened (unintentionally) to phone conversations Sylvia had with camping members from her role as a board member. I didn't recognize some of the voices anymore. That touched me. Just like the realization that I haven't driven a car in three months. My world has become small. Static. And that message is coming in harder and harder. The world went on while I stood still. I was at the forefront 6 months ago when it came to calling attention to digital sovereignty. Now it's a fashion word and I see other people carrying out the plans I came up with. Missed the boat because you were sick. That feels stupid and very unfair.

“You won't notice what you're missing until you see it again.”

⁇ Smell without food

At the cinema, Jaero shared a Mars with me. The first bite tasted a bit like Mars. The second one no longer. I still use drinking food and continue to do so until my taste comes back. Food is now especially dirty because it doesn't taste like anything. It's strange to smell food but not taste it. That's why I often don't sit at the table when the rest of us eat. Yesterday even my breakfast came up with the gagging.

‘Smoking without tasting makes hunger a theoretical concept.’

⁇ Signals coming in

Today I sneezed twice and both times there was a little bit of fresh blood. Not the third time. I assume it comes out of my throat and belongs to healing. I did not expect that stopping Oxycodone and Fentanyl would have such an effect. It wasn't until I told them that I had stopped, that I heard from one of the doctors that I had become physically addicted and that a big dip was part of it. That information didn't come until after it went wrong.

“Getting explanations afterwards rarely helps on time.”

⁇ Home alone

Sylvia and Mandy have decided to go to Hurghada for a week. Jaero and I will stay home together. A lot has been arranged and even if I fail, Jaero will be fine this week. Yet it feels vulnerable. I notice that I am only now beginning to realize how long all this has taken. Three months of my life are over. The cards and good wishes I greatly appreciate, but sometimes they feel like a meager fee for that time.

“Gratitude does not exclude mourning.”

⁇ Concerns in the margins

In addition to recovery and feeling, there is something practical about it. I'm worried about my AOV and the moment it stops. The question is not whether I will generate my own income again, but when and how smoothly that will go. Will ASR terminate my AOV before I actually convert again? This tension is constantly in the back of my mind. Last year was a financially disastrous year and my reserves are not large. That makes recovery not only a physical and mental process, but also an economic puzzle without clear preconditions.

“Security feels more fragile when you really need it.”

⁇ A bust without a destination

Mandy made a bust of my radiation mask. I am sincerely very happy with it. It is carefully, lovingly and technically well done. At the same time, it touches me more than I expected. Because somewhere I feel like that bust. Hollow inside, colorless, detached from its original function. The mask had a purpose, a place, a necessity. Now it's there. I'm here, too. Still searching for what my form actually means.

“Sometimes you only really see yourself when someone else captures your form.”

⁇ For now

Maybe recovering is mentally harder than being sick. Sick you go through. Recovering requires initiative while you are still empty. The past few months have consisted of sleeping, reading, blogging and gaming on the ‘super easy’ position. While reading, blogging and gaming I was often on the Henrose Es. In my head. Now that it's quieter, there's awareness. This was big. This is big. I don't know what to do, but I do know one thing: My life doesn't go on as it was. What will replace it, I have yet to find out. Maybe this will be the next blog series.

‘Heaviness may have light. And light sometimes weighs surprisingly much.”