I am watching the Queen’s Gambit on Netflix. Although not a fan of board games (Scrabble aside), I love me a scrappy protagonist. Female, better yet.
This might be the time to mention that I possess confidence. Extraordinary confidence. Not that I shall win, but rather that I have the ability to lose and lose again. And still want to keep playing.
To me, that is by far the most accurate definition of self assuredness. Whatever comes, I can and will handle it.
When I was first diagnosed with lung cancer, I looked at those five year statistics for any stage (14% in 2005) and I said to myself, this is going to be hard, but I can do this.
I based my self assessment on a realistic understanding of my strong points. I had never been the fastest, the strongest, or the smartest. Certainly not the luckiest. But I had a wicked strong streak of stamina. Knock me down and I’ll come right back for more.
Damned if it isn’t one handy quality to be in possession of. As of late my perspective has often been from the ground up. My labs today showed an elevation of Creatine Kinase, and my thighs were hurting—something I attributed to yesterday’s hike on the beach. However, it can also be an indicator of Rhabdomyolysis, which can happen both as a side effect of statin use (high cholesterol is secondary to lorlatinib) and binimetinib. My trend is yet mild (400) but they take this shit seriously, so for the moment I am holding both binimetinib and atorvastin. Tomorrow I have a crown replaced where I have developed a cavity, secondary to mucositis due to my previous therapy. And on Wednesday, I get to spend several hours with an ophthalmologist as I have also developed a mild case of retinopathy, a possible side effect of binimetinib.
In addition, I shall get labs again on Wednesday and if my CK levels are within normal, I am back on binimetinib with a long day of pharmacokinetics at MGH on Thursday and then back again for bloodwork on Friday.
What with all this time devoted to cancer, I hardly have time to be an artist.
I am only sort of joking. Again, this is why I feel participants in clinical trials should be compensated. Enrolling in a trial is often akin to a full time job.
Let’s just hope all this effort achieves its goal—keeping me around so that I can devote time to higher pursuits. Like art. And life.
xo
life and breath: outliving lung cancer 