A Cancer Journey: My Leukemia, Part 13

chronic lymphocytic leukemia

This can’t be right. I need to call my oncologist’s office to see what’s what…

And so, I did–with what felt like the last few drops of energy I had to spare.

No answer. (legitimate reason why explained below)

I called again.

No answer. (legitimate reason why explained below)

I left a desperate voicemail.

Didn’t hear back for three days. (legitimate reason why explained below)

I’ll spare you the hour-by-hour commentary, but I spent those three days in hell: nausea, vomiting, headache, and debilitating exhaustion. I barely drank any liquids and didn’t eat a thing.

Was THIS really the price I would have to pay to stay alive?

Could it really be that THIS is how the system works?

And try to imagine what other dark and cynical thoughts might cross someone’s mind at a time like this.

Anyway, another long painful story short, my timing for starting Calquence couldn’t have been worse. After my oncologist got back to me three days later, I learned that their entire staff was hit hard by Covid and the office was effectively shut down. Simply put, there was nobody there to help me, through no fault of their own.

Heartened to know they really did care, I wrote off my three days in hell as just one more anonymous Covid casualty.

Continue… My Leukemia, Part 14

Author: Frank J Peter

A uniquely burdened and blessed citizen of the world thinking and acting out loud!

4 thoughts on “A Cancer Journey: My Leukemia, Part 13”

  1. Anonymous says:

    I came back to the “Welcome” entry just now for a reminder of your more-or-less present state of being. Hoping to hear that music (what kind?) keeps you company on this journey.

    1. Thank you for having the courage to walk with me for a while. Sharing my love of music is indeed one of those things that keeps me going. All the best to you, my anonymous friend.

  2. This series might be one of those occasions to use the Kurt Vonnegut storytelling convention of telling the end of the story first. I’m left wondering how much I should worry about you. Hope you’re (mostly) better at this point.

    1. Thanks for caring, Jeff. No need to worry, really. In fact, if you saw me right now, you’d think I was doing better than the average healthy 62 year old! Alas, I have dozens of such “stories”. I’m just buying time as I reinvent myself–like trying to change the tires on a moving car. I am not seeking sympathy or trying to build suspense. That would be disingenuous and cruel. Most posts will make more sense by starting at the beginning: https://frankjpeter.com/cancer/a-cancer-journey-welcome/ and following the link at the bottom of each page. Thanks and Peace.

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