Just hearing the words uttered sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve experienced my handful of traumatic procedures throughout this cancer journey, but this reoccurring one continues to haunt me. As much as I try to portray an audacious exterior, the 6 inch needle that penetrates my spinal cannel quickly guts my bravery. The worst part is always the days leading up to the procedure. It’s a game I play with my mind where it continually attempts to remind me of what’s going to occur, while I try to ignore the inevitable.
Today of all day’s St. Valentine’s (my doctor) struck my spine with its lovely syringe. Once again, there were complications. Half way through the procedure the Doctor had to retract because the numbing medication didn’t penetrate the deeper tissue by the bone. Once again, I experience the agony of lying there hopelessly and having to endure the pain that at times is overbearing. Once again, I panic when my legs become numb and I can’t feel them, and the thought of me being that 1 and 100000 individual who might undergo permanent nerve damage overtakes my mind. Once again, I feel the warm sensation of the chemo being administered into my spine. Once again I pray that it will all go away. Once again I’m thankful to have made it this far. Once again I will undergo this procedure.
I will continue to push through all this so I will never hear the words, “You have cancer…” once again.