Patient B. It was May 17, 2002. His body converged as he practically leapt towards the floor doubled over in frantic episodes of pain. His wife reached for his convulsing body and dragged him to the emergency room. Flashes of faces popped into his view, the calming yet frenzied expressions of doctors whirling by as they asked him questions, as their icy fingers probed at his body. A day had passed and the doctors read the results of his suffering: mass on the colon, spot on the liver and a spot on the lung. Stage 4 colon cancer.
9 days passed by. With each fleeting hour the lacerations of his illness consumed his every thought. A foot of his colon was ejected from his body, his wife by his side through each jump in the process of wellness. The oncologist would speak to B every time he entered the room, his focus inevitably on the sick man, and inertia lying on the hospital bed; yet he never even flitted his eyes towards his wife, something that deeply agitated her, and eventually tormented B himself. They needed a new doctor.
B and his family had lived in Pennsylvania for the majority of their lives, yet their concerned daughter whose home was permanently Delaware was the one whose research was the most beneficial. She called B with news of a successful doctor, Dr. Meyers; however, once the family had attempted to contact Dr. Meyers, it appeared he was busy during that exact hour. This exact second in time, this non existent interaction had saved B’s life.
With Dr. Meyer’s unavailability, the next option was with Dr. Islam who was of a slightly inferior ranking at the hospital at that time. B and his wife went to visit Dr. Islam, and at the moment they entered the premises, his wife came to congeal a fondness for the man, for with each word that he uttered, Dr. Islam would look equally from both B and his wife, his attention disseminated evenly throughout the room- a quality of immense importance for the Jammicky family. And the first sentences he spewed were, “There’s an American way to treat this and a European way. The European way is much more aggressive.”
The immediate response of B’s wife was, “Let’s do it.” Yet a complicated issue in the process was revealed when it was discovered that Dr. Islam was not quite authorized to complete the European procedure, as it had not yet been tested in America. Yet both B and Dr. Islam came to the hasty realization that the testing would take more time than B had in order to maintain his life. And so the process began.
Monday: Chemotherapy
Tuesday: Chemotherapy
Wednesday: Chemotherapy
Thursday: Chemotherapy
The schedule allotted for B’s life was utterly mundane and simply excruciating. Dehydration was not uncommon for patients of this sort, and surely B received the same struggles. A pill was given to alleviate the pains of the treatment- the many sores that erupted within his mouth were another symptom of his chemotherapy. The pains of his treatment. Isn’t it enigmatic how something that is fighting so fervently to keep you alive is actually inducing more pain? But that’s simply how the battle throughout cancer proceeds.
Another CT scan showed zero activity on B’s liver and so his wife declared, “Why don’t we just have that dead stuff taken out of him,” and Dr. Islam agreed. He created an appointment for B to be taken to the Allegheny General Hospital and there both his appendix and liver were removed. Yet a fever abruptly struck him, and he was once again forced to spend a portion of his life in the abyss known to patients as a hospital.
The last time B had chemotherapy was May 31, 2003. From that point onward he seemed to be fine, seemed to be in remission. He would visit Dr. Islam twice a year, yet the port which he received chemotherapy from was still enclosed under the thin skin of his chest. B, not usually succumbing to superstitious ideals, was taken by surprise and ultimate fear from a story he’d heard at a camp that as soon as someone had taken that port out of their body, they had gotten cancer once again. So he kept that port captive in his chest, until a few years later when B became more dubious of the mystical powers of the port. And so he ventured to the hospital to remove the port, and as he was getting it flushed out, the nurse said,
“You’re Dr. Islam’s poster child,” enhanced with a quick smile. And that was when B came to realize that what Dr. Islam did for him was life saving in a completely new level. Dr. Islam’s European method experimentation had in fact caused a litany of complaints from his superior, Dr. Meyers. Dr. Meyers split from Dr. Islam’s acquaintance because of his audacity of trying out the untested method on B. Dr. Islam had read the cancer patient files of Dr. Meyers’ which he had attempted to treat before meeting B, and he came to realize that all of Dr. Meyers’ previous cases had died within 8 months in the process of being “cured” through the American technique. So therefore he elected a different approach- the European method. And due to this method, B is living today. Because of Dr. Islam’s bold method, this technique is frequently being used throughout his office at the very moment.
“The word cancer is one of the worst words I could have heard; it’s associated with people dying. Yet how it affected me was a lot better than how it affected her,” B confided about his wife. The concept of cancer is disastrous to the people internally affected by it, it’s an insidious disease that fills one’s life with malice and interminable thoughts of denial and demise. Yet to the people around the affected person, it is so much worse. Because all the torturous pain that the cancer patient feels within their body, their relatives and loved ones are feeling the same sharp pinches of agony within their soul. And this type of grief is perpetual.
Yet friends and family will continue to demonstrate their support. When B was diagnosed, his entire family shipped themselves off to sea for a cruise, bringing their family ties and connections closer. In some ways, illness can be beneficial to the harmony and concordance of a filial unity. Similarly with friendship, B did not gain or lose any new friends. He in fact simply surprised his bowling companions when he was able to continue the sport he so adored. A myriad of them were old themselves, three of them burdened with hip replacements, four of them with surgical knees. When B had arrived at Forbes Regional for his surgery, there were only 6 chairs destined for people waiting for chemotherapy. Yet when he moved to other locations over time, he noticed that the number of chairs was rapidly increasing. The cancer community is burgeoning, which is a blessing and a curse. The blessing segment of it is simply that the unity of these individuals is growing along with the number, and the added number also adds to society’s understanding of the disease.
With added numbers comes added patients. And with these added patients are people related to B. B’s daughter suddenly discovered a lump on her breast. He immediately raced her towards Dr. Islam’s office and Dr. Islam hastily ordered an MRI and had his prized patient’s daughter taken to Allegheny General. However the fright was futile, because it was not cancer on her breast, simply cysts that could eventually develop into cancer. Also, came B’s wife’s friend from Italy. This friend had taken her present oncologist and her paperwork and sent it to Duke University, yet their efforts and results were not what she wanted to hear. Therefore, B’s wife meets with this woman and says,
“Come to our doctor, he’ll cure you.” And with this immense promise, comes a massive amount of responsibility and pressure on Dr. Islam. And yet he is able to do it.
There are always experiences that can be analyzed as good or bad. Yet the line between the two ideals is very thin. Cancer is overall an experience tainted with malice and suffering. Yet good can be extracted from it. B’s “good” was that when he hears that someone has cancer, he knows exactly what they are going through. Before actually physically experiencing the dilemma, you wouldn’t quite understand, but once you know exactly what is occurring, it makes a huge difference. And B continues his journey through life, yet each step he takes, each breath he inhales is scarred by the fear of cancer’s return. His life is forever haunted by his memories, by his experiences. Yet he makes it through. One day at a time.
lifeofcancer 