⁇ Cancer Light – The City That Burns Itself

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 seriously, sometimes with humor, but always really.

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

⁇ The battery that does not charge

Sometimes I feel fine. Then I walk the dog, clean out the dishwasher and think: Look, it's going pretty well. Ten minutes later, I'm lying on the couch, sweating like I ran a marathon. There is no logic. One day I look full of energy, the next day even feels like a top sport. The battery does not charge but seems to drain itself, no matter what I do.

“My body has its own agenda, and I'm not on it.”

⁇ The factory in my body

Apparently, it all has a reason. Cancer cells are like runaway factories: They run day and night, eat sugars and fats, but produce nothing useful. They do what scientists call the Warburg effect, converting sugar into lactic acid, even if there is enough oxygen. It's like my body has become an energy-consuming startup that swallows everything and only spits out smoke. No profit, but activity.

‘It is as if a factory is swallowing up all the raw materials of the city, producing day and night, but only emitting smoke.’

⁇ Saving position with holes

In the coming weeks I have to save my energy for the radiation. That sounds simple: Take a rest, sleep on time, don't do too much. But when your energy balance is shaky, saving feels like trying to store water in a colander. Sometimes it manages to hold something, then again everything flows away without warning. My body doesn't seem to understand that I want to plan ahead. It lives by the day, by the hour, by the breath.

“I try to save energy, but my body does not like savings accounts.”

⁇ Feeling guilty in the bank

There's something weird about being sick: You feel guilty when you rest. As if you have to answer for the hours on the couch. But it's not laziness, it's maintenance. My body is at war on a micro level and I'm just a logistics manager of the whole. Yet I catch myself thinking: I could have sent you an e-mail. Until I start sweating again from thinking alone.

“Rust is not a luxury. It is maintenance work for the soul.’

⁇ For now

For now, this is where I am. My body is working harder than I have ever done, and apparently I can feel it. Tomorrow I'll try something new: Don't plan anything. Maybe that's the real deal.

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