". . . I did not want to exist on a roller coaster, constantly grasping an inflated balloon of hope for each successive "cure" . . ."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Frustrations
Returning to college was difficult, as it prompted numerous explanations as to the cause of my absence. I was honest, relating my situation as gently as the English vocabulary allowed. I wished no pity, simply the same cordiality which before had greeted my entry into the room, and happily this I did receive. Yet more than this, I found within many eyes a deep incredulousness, as if they were simultaneously amazed and frightened that such a horrid disorder had pounced so near to their own lives. Their faces proclaimed "it cannot be!" while they tried desperately to transform my words into a statement which they found reasonable and within their capacity to understand. How could such a thing happen to someone "so young."
One particularly agreeable friend wasted no time in asserting that I would follow a plan consisting of health food and soon find myself "detoxified" and on my way to full recovery. Dubious, and rather self-protective, I hesitantly agreed to accompany her to the local natural food store to see if the owner knew of any promising, no-fail treatments for cancer. Once there I was shown a variety of self-cures, ranging from herbal diets, to drinking carrot juice and exorbitantly priced tea. I failed to see how such measures could possibly help, for if they did, would not everyone with cancer be flooding into the store, rather than laying bedridden in a hospital ward? I looked around at the people. They appeared to be ill. Carrot juice drinkers, I presumed! At any rate, water infused with plain tea sounded more appealing to me, and my friend and I sat down at one of their tables to peruse several books on the subject of cancer.
Because I had so thoroughly resigned myself to my inevitable death, I did not relish the thought of inquiring into cures; it was as if these "cures" threatened my happiness and sense of emotional security, for once acceptance has been attained it is not easy to smile upon that which may destroy one's inner peace. When I would try to explain this feeling, people often thought I housed a "death wish" or that I had no zest for life. It was a chore to explain this was not true, but rather, that I did not want to exist on a roller coaster, constantly grasping an inflated balloon of hope for each successive "cure" and then falling into the despair of disillusionment when it failed to enact its promise. I hoped my attitude did not injure my friend's good intentions; ironically we were each looking out for my well-being… she wished for my health and I for my sanity.
Scrawling several book titles and clinics on a piece of note paper I dismissed myself from the store into the fresh autumn breeze. I determined to check out a book on vitamin C therapy at the library before going home, although I honestly hoped that the information therein would prove doubtful and not merit further investigation. Maybe I was some sort of an odd-ball, I thought, toting the book under my arm. . .everyone wants to see me cured but me; I wanted that also, but without the lies and shams that treatment often entailed.
After thoroughly scouring the book for details, I found my previous assumptions to be correct. It was not proven that vitamin C increased one's life expectancy and, as I had also surmised, the ingestion of large amounts could render some ill effects, ranging from mild discomforts to more serious complications. I was relieved to read this, as I disliked the idea of taking massive doses of anything; I respected moderation.
The toxic effects of vitamin C were excessive gas, nausea and diarrhea (of which I felt I already had enough), urinary burning, irritations of the mouth, and injury to the tooth enamel, dehydration, a depletion of minerals in the body, and finally, a temporary increase in pain for terminal patients and possible risk of hemorrhaging for those with advanced cancers. Additionally, I found it interesting that vitamin C in massive doses could speed one's demise if he was near to death, while bestowing more energy upon those who were not; as I had no way of discovering in which stage I was classified, should I have been near my death, I felt no urge to roll out the red carpet of welcome by taking vitamin C.
So it was that one option of treatment had been thankfully discarded, and my friend reluctantly nodded in appreciation of my rejection of vitamin C. I shared an affinity with normalcy and serenity in life, yet in time I began to see the many trials which lay before me and my goal; even simplicity is difficult to attain when love and concern are one's barriers.