I can’t believe I am going to write about this—the middle school girl inside of me is giggling at the subject—but I think there’s something to be learned from my recent experience with laxatives. Don’t worry; I won’t go into detail except to explain that many of the anti-nausea medications and chemotherapy that I take as part of my treatment plan can cause constipation. Poop—consistent poop—is part of the cancer world and when that consistency vanishes, the doctors and nurses have plenty of suggestions on how to bring it back. The use of Magnesium Citrate (very similar to preparing for a colonoscopy) is one of those options.
This post, though, really isn’t about bowel movements. It’s about holding on to things that maybe we shouldn’t hold on to—things that weigh us down, that slow our personal growth, that make us sick.
As an anxious person, I hold on to a lot of things that I shouldn’t. I repeat conversations (usually awkward ones) addendum. I worry about anything and everything (i.e. did we leave the stove on? Is there room in my budget for this? I’m cold; do I have a fever again?).
I hold on to dreams that no longer fit: jeans that are too small, shoes that were never comfortable to begin with, art supplies that I have “plans” for and then never utilize.
I also hold on to fear itself. For instance, when we went to Boston for the initial bone marrow transplant consultation, we were given a binder FULL of information regarding transplants. Instead of reading through it, I’ve kept the binder on the coffee table, allowing myself to panic every time I pass by it. The healthier thing to do would be to read the binder, write down questions, and contact the transplant nurse with those questions. But I haven’t done that. I’ve clung to being afraid of the process, to ignorance, to being overwhelmed by everything that needs to be accomplished between now and the transplant.
Not to make excuses, but it’s often easier to hold on to what’s known (and may or may not be healthy for us) than to let go of old hurts, too-small dreams and worries. It’s moments like these—when we’re bogged down by these things—that we need someone to come along with a bottle of hypothetical Magnesium Citrate. Is the cleansing process going to suck? Hell yeah. It’s going to burn. You’re going to question why you’re doing this cleanse, why you hate yourself so much. On the other side, though, is an opportunity to carry a little less of a burden. There’s a chance to create room for new dreams, new memories, positive experiences and growth.
As some of you are already aware, treatment did not go as planned this week. On Monday, I was scheduled to receive an infusion through my chest port, an infusion through my Ommaya Reservoir, and shots of chemotherapy to my legs. My counts were too low, however, for me to receive anything except the infusion through my chest port. I spent yesterday (Tuesday) receiving 2 units of blood and a unit of platelets instead. I feel a little more human, but time (in a couple of hours actually) will tell if the infusions were enough to bump up my numbers and restart treatment. I can’t say I am looking forward to getting chemotherapy injected into my legs, but each dose brings us a little closer to the end goal.
Please keep us in your thoughts. There are days when this treatment protocol weighs on us, when the light at the end of the tunnel seems farther away than it did just the moment before. Please send light, love and healing thoughts whenever possible. We can’t do this without you.
With Love, Laura