To the Ones with Progression
Letters to my patients, day 22
Another scan, another week of scanxiety. What if treatment is not working, what if the cancer has grown, what if…
The unknowns of this journey take a toll on you — not knowing what to expect with that initial incidental finding on the CT scan, being unsure of the treatment plans, wondering what side effects to expect, tumor markers going up and down, realizing remission may not be a forever term, repeat scans show no evidence of disease but 6 months later there is concern for new growth.
There you sit, another scan has been done. Finally, the results.
There has been progression, growth, that’s not good. The new treatment worked for 4 months, but the cancer has developed resistance. You already suspected that, the pain in your ribs had been coming back. But it is never as final as hearing it from the oncology provider.
How disheartening it is to hear those words — the cancer is growing. Every step of this journey requires you to re-evaluate your expectations, upcoming plans, life in general.
Here you are at another crossroad. Before you look ahead and adjust your sails, it is okay to idle in the unfairness and grief that greets you at this intersection. This sucks.
It is unfair. It is hard. It is painful, sad, upsetting, frustrating, and all of the other emotionally-charged words you choose to release into the void.
Cry into your pillow. Scream into an open field. Call your best friend and sit in silence because there is nothing more to say.
And then, before we lose you to the pit of fear and frustration, take what you need:
This is just another step in my journey, I will keep putting one foot in-front of the other.
I will ask for help, even if I just need help sleeping in the face of this news.
It is normal to feel like hope is lost. But hope is not lost, it just looks different. I will learn to recognize it again.
I will settle into another routine.
I have a support team and can rely on them.
It is okay to grieve the changes this brings to my life.
This is hard, I will keep my expectations of myself minimal. Rest is good.
I will open up about my fears, worries, questions — in the pursuit of healing.
I will take it one minute, one hour, one day at a time.
Thank you for being here,
This is part of a 31-day series of letters to my patients — those undergoing a work-up, diagnosis, or treatment for cancer. Topics are also focused on those caregiving and supporting individuals affected by cancer. This is not an easy journey, but you do not have to do it alone.
If you know someone who would be uplifted by hearing this, please share with them. Many of my posts are free. Thank you for reading!
Thinking of
, who shared his experience with a recent scan review. Thank you for your vulnerability, Joe.
For those who feel like they have no support on this journey:
For those searching for joy, it is possible to find it despite unfavorable circumstances:
Thank you 🧡🧡🧡