Monday, 14 October 2013

Chemotherapy Day 1

Well I leave my fate in the hands of internal organs and tenacious blood cells; ironically it's always been my job to take care of them up till' now. Eating healthy, staying fit, taking my vitamins. Of course, I still hadn't the perfect track record for illness. Does anyone really?

Getting told by a doctor that you've caught a common cold, typically plants a feeling of suitable normality: 'Well I didn't wear a jacket last night, so go figure.' There’s an evident action followed by a fitting reaction.

A physiotherapist giving news of a sprained ankle, embedding the mind with justification: 'Well, I did go hard into that battle knowing it was a 50/50 ball.' There's an expectation of infirmity, a responsibility that we take as rightful victims to restore our health.

Getting told by an oncologist that leukemia cells had invaded my bone marrow; this one left me seared. She gave me the news with such grace; all my expected emotions were consumed by guilt when I stood there speechless, unable to reciprocate her same flawless composure. I scanned my mind for a familiar justification, a sense of reasoning, an action that could’ve resulted in this inescapable reaction.

But sometimes in life you aren’t given reason. Sometimes the effects are unjustifiable, prospects are inconclusive and outcomes aren’t always direct results of actions. My first day of Chemotherapy was today, the first of an 8 month program. No one can tell me why I was diagnosed with blood cancer; there was nothing I did, no actions I made that would conclude my diagnostic. Some things will indefinitely remain unknown. But regardless of the news I’ve received over the past couple of days, I know that the only thing I have control over is my outlook. It’s up to my body how hard it’ll fight and how well it will cooperate with the chemotherapy. So I go into my first day of recovery with a sense of hope; confident that my body can fight this. And while it takes care of the physical battle, in return, I’ll be emotionally fighting Leukemia to the death. These cancer cells really better watch their back because they picked the wrong body to mess with.

Enclosed by the walls of a dreary medical unit, fueled by the unadorned hospital food, I will continue to breed optimism.

Appreciating all the support,

Taking it day by day,

-          Serena Bonneville J

1 comment:

  1. Hi I have just came across your blog. I love the posts you have written, I am also a blogger and cancer fighter. I was diagnosed with AML and am now 18 months post stem cell transplant. It's amazing to share you story, having cancer also inspired me to blog. Hope you are well, you have an amazing positive attitude which is the key to fighting this awful cancer.