Quality of Life

I remember one of my first appointments with my oncologist I asked her why she chose oncology for a career. Her answer? "I didn't go into oncology to save lives. I went into oncology to improve the quality of life of my patients."

That had a huge impact on me. I've thought a lot about it recently.

Is this new normal enough?

I find myself wondering, "Is this new normal enough?" I'm on oxygen at night. I also need oxygen for exertion. Well, exertion? Any kind of walking. So I pretty much need oxygen 24/7. I still hop up like I always have, go into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Slam! I'm smacked right in the face. Actually, I'm smacked in the chest. I can't just hop up and do things. Simple things. Small things.

Is this the life I want?

Is this the life I want? Is this as good as it gets from here on out? I have a LOT of fluid in/on my lungs. I now take Lasix twice a day. It is quite difficult to find a balance. I have to keep the fluid off my lungs with the Lasix without dehydrating myself. A balance I've yet to figure out. Currently, I have 481ml of fluid on my left lung. That's over a liter!

How long do I push onward?

How long do I push onward? Do I push until I am unable to get out of bed? Do I drag this out for several more months? I know I am terminal. There is no cure for me. Early on, I was hoping I would be one of the miracles we sometimes hear about...miraculously my cancer just POOF, disappeared. I gave up on that possibility almost a year ago when I started Taxotere.

I have pneumonia and I'm in the hospital again. My pneumonia is not viral. Nor is it bacterial. It is because I have lung cancer. My lungs are tired. Both of them have more areas of collapse. They have been working hard for quite a while now. The last three treatments of Taxotere have been pretty rough. And that's at a lower dose with an extra week off. I do my breathing exercises every day to get the collapse corrected. Sometimes I'm successful. Sometimes not. It hurts like hell to have a partially collapsed lung.

Even if we weren't faced with a pandemic, I wouldn't be able to participate in life. Not much anyway. I'm limited. When I go to the doctor's office, I now require a wheelchair. I can't handle the walk usually. I'm pretty stubborn and resist the wheelchair. Recently, I've not been as stubborn and get in the dam thing.

Will it get better?

Will it get better? That's the next conversation I plan to have with my oncologist. Will I be able to improve my lung capacity? Will I be able to reach a point I don't wake up every day to find I have fluid build-up?

What sucks is in the world of cancer research they are really close to finding what can kick the ass of the KRAS mutation. My mutation. Even closer to finding a chemotherapy cocktail to slow it down.

I've beaten the odds already. I'm now in my third month of my 5th year. Most folks with lung cancer rarely make it a year by the time it is found. Most people are already stage 4 when the cancer is found. It is a silent killer. Probably why it kills more people than most other cancers combined - including breast and colon.

The difficult days are really difficult

Since I am being openly honest about things I think about every day, I might as well tell you there are many nights I ask God to take me in my sleep, usually on difficult days. Well, I've been having a lot of those lately.

I have pain every day. I'm on morphine 24/7. Most days I have to add my other prescribed pain killers, wait about 45 minutes. If that doesn't knock it out, I add 2 ibuprofen. Wait another 45 minutes. If that doesn't work, I add 2 Tylenol. It's a 2 and a half-hour process I've had every day for the past few weeks. Sucks to start a day like that! But I DID have a couple of days I didn't need to add anything!

My question for you...

I am not telling you this seeking sympathy. Nor am I seeking words of encouragement. I get a LOT of encouragement every day.

This is what cancer does. Not only does it kick the shit out of your body, but it also plays havoc on the mind. Just when you think you can't do it anymore, you get a couple of days that you feel good. However, that new level of feeling good is nowhere close to being a good day prior to my diagnosis.

I'm not telling you this because I am in a dark place. I'm sharing this because it is part of my new normal.

What would you do? That's not a fair question, really. There is no way of knowing how you would handle it unless you are forced to be faced with it.

Editor’s Note: We are extremely saddened to say that on May 7, 2021, Ronda Beaty passed away. Ronda’s advocacy efforts and writings continue to reach many. She will be deeply missed.