Tests have been done, exams have been conducted, and the results are in: I was right in my initial assessment that the problem isn’t with my gallbladder. The problem is the injections I’ve been giving myself are not effective. It was hard to hear because this means I’m potentially one step closer to needing regular chemo infusions at the hospital. It was hard to hear because I had heard so much encouraging feedback on how gallbladder removal surgery had changed so many people’s lives for the better. It was hard to hear because instead of having a simple, straightforward problem and solution, we have to go back to the drawing board and experiment with what my body and its baffling disease will respond to.
Each day has felt like the last leg of a marathon, just trying to make it and push through to the finish, even though there’s nothing left to push through with. And the only prize is waking up the next day to have to do it all over again.
Now, though, we can take action. I’m on another four weeks of steroids, which Stef and I refer to as the Faustian bargain, the deal with the devil; I take the good with the bad, and it will make me somewhat functional again. I start a new injection regime with a new drug and hopefully, regain a better quality of life.
I think I’ve cried more in the past two months than I have in years. Today I talked to a nurse on the phone about the new medicine I will be trying. We had a long, detailed chat about my condition. It felt liberating to be really honest with how bad it’s been. Knowing how bad it is makes me realize how much better it can get. I just have to keep trying.