I haven't posted here in quite a while. Honestly, the general vibe of this forum just hasn't been sitting right with me lately, and between everything else going on, I simply haven't had the bandwidth to be active on many message boards. Still, looking back, I remember being so deeply involved in this specific thread during the early days of my own fight. Because of that connection, I felt it was only right to come back and finally wrap up my story here.
Back in April of this year, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma. It happened almost entirely by accident, which is funny because, honestly, I’d been suspicious for years. Still, getting that official word? It was a massive shock to the system. I’ve pushed through six cycles of ABVD chemotherapy—so twelve rounds in total. And don't even get me started on those nasty biopsies. Though, looking back, I guess they have their uses today since they're great at predicting exactly how old I feel! I'm only 28, yet somehow I've developed the joints of a complete old lady. Haha. Most of my hair fell out—the stuff on my head, anyway. My leg hair was stubbornly resilient, of course. Just my luck, right? My veins in my arms have turned into hard little wires, too. Then there was the constant vomiting and endless fungal infections... honestly, my medicine cabinet looks like a local pharmacy at this point. I suppose I don't really need to list everything else, do I? I think everyone here knows all too well what the side effects of cancer and treatment actually feel like.
So, I just had my latest PET scan, and guess what? Not a single malignant spot in sight. For my doctors, that’s pretty much the end of the story. Now, they aren't exactly handing me a certificate saying I'm officially cured—because we all know you have to wait a certain amount of time to be sure about those things—but the treatment phase is over. No more scheduled therapies, no more radiation referrals, and honestly, looking at the statistics, I feel like the odds are finally on my side. My next scan isn't for another three months, which means I am finally, mercifully, free from the constant needle pricks, the mouth fungus from the meds, and that lingering anxiety of wondering when they’re going to try to find a vein for an infusion once my veins have completely given out. It feels good to breathe again, doesn't it?
I really want to emphasize one thing here: if I’m cured—or rather, if the disease just isn't there anymore, if you prefer to put it that way—it is solely and exclusively thanks to modern medicine. I didn't touch a single alternative remedy. Not one. Now, I did try to eat healthily, but I also made sure to listen to my body. You know how it is? There were times after chemo when I had an intense craving for red meat, and honestly, I just ate it whenever the mood struck. No strict restrictions for me. I never drank any of those noni juices, nor did I go chasing after some herbalist's "miracle" tonic. Instead, I focused on boosting my immunity through actual nutrition—lots of berries and beta-D-glucan. And throughout my entire treatment, I kept working full-time. I work at a public institution, so I was around people all day long. Yet, I never caught a single infection. Was it luck? Maybe. But I took simple precautions—staying away from sick people and washing/disinfecting my hands constantly. It really was that straightforward.
I really tried my best to just live like a normal, healthy person—you know? I’d go to concerts (mostly the outdoor ones, though I tended to stay a bit on the sidelines) and, aside from those specific days when chemo hit, I made a conscious effort to keep my mind occupied with anything else besides the illness. In my case, that was honestly such a smart move. It’s been about a month and a half since my last treatment session, and even though I wouldn't wish those past few months on anyone, I can't say I'm left with any heavy trauma. I can talk about my diagnosis quite normally now; in fact, just this past week, I was actually working on a little experiment involving certain types of tumors (even if that's not exactly my field of expertise), and I didn't feel any stress at all. During chemo, certain smells would drive me crazy because they reminded me so much of the treatment, but I'm starting to notice that those triggers are fading too. Of course, this kind of mindset won't work for everyone, but for me, staying busy with work was a lifesaver. I simply didn't have the time to obsess over being sick. If I had just stayed cooped up at home, I probably wouldn't have been able to shake that urge to fixate on the disease. Wouldn't you agree?
I’ve encountered all kinds of doctors—some were brutal and totally cold, while others were absolutely wonderful. But you know what they all had in common? They were completely overworked and just utterly demoralized by the state of the healthcare system. In most cases, I ended up having to figure everything out on my own. Luckily, since I work in a similar field, I knew what to look for, but even then, I often had to ask three different times just to get a straight answer. Thankfully, patient associations and forums like the one at HULL exist. It was through those communities that I gathered a mountain of information, which helped me avoid almost all the side effects—or at least, it allowed me to recognize them early enough to manage them. If I could offer one piece of advice to patients and their families, it would be this: try your absolute hardest to educate yourselves about your illness and its potential side effects so you can react in time. Also, don't let your doctor dismiss you. By law, they are required to explain everything regarding your condition and treatment in a way that you can actually understand. At the same time, please be careful about what you read and whose advice you follow. It sounds easy to say "use your head," but when someone is sick, it's incredibly hard to stay rational. Information is everywhere these days, and it's becoming nearly impossible to tell what’s true and what isn't. Not to mention the growing number of unscrupulous people who make a fortune off those suffering from the most difficult illnesses. Since I am a scientist, I stuck strictly to things that had been proven effective through controlled trials multiple times and subsequently published in peer-reviewed journals. What you choose to follow is entirely up to you, of course, but please don't fall for anyone's "miracle cures." There's no such thing. If there were, this thread—and all the others like it—wouldn't be nearly as long as it is.
I started working out again this week, really pushing myself to get back to that shape I had before getting sick. I’ve actually stopped wearing my headscarf, too—my hair is finally starting to grow back (though if you ask me, it isn't happening nearly fast enough!!!). Even my period has returned. Some people might say things are finally returning to normal, but honestly, I’ve just been making sure my "normal" stays steady without any sudden jumps. Anyway, that's all from me. Maybe some of this might be helpful to someone else? Besides, I really wanted to use this post to break up the constant stream of bad news in this thread. Good luck to everyone!
