Chapter 1: The Struggle for Care

Last night turned out to be quite disheartening. I had a plan in place for my healing process from the cancer that has been diagnosed. There are numerous things I am currently in need of, and while I’ve discussed them before, I still find myself waiting for a walker, physical therapy sessions, occupational therapy, spiritual counseling, and palliative care to manage my pain.

The healthcare system here in Toronto operates in a way that requires my primary physician, Dr. Saleema, to await a formal cancer diagnosis from my oncologist before I can access any of these necessary treatments. They conducted a biopsy on lymph nodes near my urethra, and I received the results: "Almost Certainly Metastasizing Urethral Cancer." This news didn’t terrify me; rather, I remained composed. After all, we all face mortality, and perhaps this is my time—or perhaps it isn’t.

With this formal diagnosis, I contacted Dr. Saleema, who has begun to arrange the various treatments I need, including a stronger painkiller than Tylenol. The next priority for me was to reschedule my oncology appointment from September 3 to a date within the week of October 26, right after my lung biopsy set for August 19. I am eager to begin whatever treatment is available to me without delay.

"I want it, and I want it now!"

We still need crucial information for a definitive diagnosis. The process started with a CAT scan of my lungs that revealed a significant mass. I feel a sense of urgency; waiting from August 19 to September 3 feels excessively long. Cancer Hospital, please expedite my oncology appointment for the week of October 26.

I am anxious to commence treatment as quickly as possible. In my mind, if I have cancer, it’s likely to progress unless we act swiftly. Even a week could be a critical turning point for me. The next step is to address the excruciating leg pain that has been relentless.

Dr. Saleema suggested a more potent medication. I had been managing with Tylenol, but when I tried Hydromorphone, an opioid, I found it no more effective than Tylenol. While I did experience better sleep, I still woke up several times due to the leg pain. The new medication left me feeling groggy. I had hoped for a restful night, but I still woke up at my usual time, plagued by severe leg pain. The only difference was that I could fall back asleep more easily than before, when Tylenol kept me awake for hours.

Though I managed seven hours of sleep, I felt intensely foggy and found it difficult to write, which is frustrating because I need to express my thoughts. I’m considering pausing this new medication and reverting to Tylenol. On Monday, I plan to reach out to the palliative therapy department for additional strategies.

Yesterday was peculiar. I generally have a low appetite, but suddenly I felt ravenous and snacked throughout the day. In the evening, I ate a piece of fish but felt nauseous shortly after. Peanut butter with blueberries has been agreeable, as has a hot carbohydrate drink. Due to my history of kidney issues, I’m avoiding chocolate. It appears that I need to keep my portions small.

I am surrounded by immense love, and if love has the power to heal cancer, I am indeed fortunate. My mental state is largely positive—almost normal. Only the leg pain and itching serve as reminders of my serious health challenges. Someone suggested that perhaps the itching and leg pain aren't related to my diagnosis. I hadn't considered that before, and the doctors seem uncertain about the origins of these symptoms.

For now, I’m focusing on simple, small meals, steering clear of wheat and sugar, and adapting to polyphasic sleep due to my leg pain.

According to Kleandro Koka, a B.Sc in Mechanical Engineering, polyphasic sleep involves sleeping multiple times within a 24-hour period, usually exceeding two sessions. The term was first introduced in the early 20th century by psychologist J. S. Szymanski, who noted daily variations in activity patterns. It's worth noting that this concept does not suggest a specific sleep schedule.