中Back to work. I snapped back onto the same old daily rhythm within just a few days as if I hadn’t taken any career break. My health is paramount, I kept reminding myself, even if I was doing the most meaningful job ever.
My new colleagues had no idea about my history with the ninja. I would briefly mention it if they got curious about how I spent the long vacation indicated on my résumé, or when I wanted to explain how I got immunosuppressed and hence needed to be COVID-cautious in the office with continued mask wearing and social distancing. Yet, it’s more like an ice-breaker than something that we dwelled on, for work quickly took precedence over small talks and conversations naturally shifted to serious business matters. It helped to divert my attention away from the ninja too! It’s like how one might complain about a very recent bad cold but wouldn’t be still moaning about the headache and chills three months on.
Considering how normal and ordinary I looked post cancer, I wondered how many hidden survivors of trauma or hardship I did pass on the street everyday? What are their stories?
I had my first dental appointment post-radiotherapy (RT) on the second day of my new job. You might wonder why I hadn’t gone sooner, since most of the side effects have subsided and trismus no longer severely restricted my jaw movement? That’s because of another small complication from the ninja. Before the operation, it was pushing my gum towards the lower bottom wisdom tooth, to the extent that the tooth’s crown was completely buried. It took a whole year for the gum to recede to where it should be so the tooth could be examined properly. Can you imagine my relief when my dentist said all thirty-two teeth and the gum were fine? She said they look even healthier than pre-RT, wow! Phew, all that effort in dental hygiene during RT has paid off! Now I just have to keep up with the good work for the rest of my life to prevent dental extractions in hospitals. They’ll also reserve the use of X-rays for only the most important investigations.
Before long, it’s 20 July, the first anniversary of the operation. Time for the major follow-up!
First was a hearing test to check whether radiation has reduced my sensitivity to soft sounds or cut out some frequency ranges. The audiologist said everything was within normal ranges, yay! The interesting thing was, pretty early on during the test, I noticed the note I had to respond to was always a “C”, but at different octaves and volumes. I just had to keep looking out for this note to complete the test, easy! When finished, I asked for a copy of the report, which clearly showed that the test note was in fact “B”, a semitone lower than what I had perceived, haha! Still laughing? Of course —— I've had this age-related semitone shift for about a decade, and the test revealed that the discrepancy remained at just half a tone. My absolute pitch was definitely restored, hurray!
It’s been eight months since my last face-to-face meeting with Mr J in late autumn, when he declared me “cancer-free”. This anniversary had symbolic significance to me, but to be fair I really hadn’t got serious issues to raise. What should we discuss on this fine midsummer day?
I briefly reported on the easing of side effects. He said the salivary glands, sense of taste, jaw muscles and lymphatic drainage would all continue to improve gradually over time, consistent with my traditional Chinese medicine doctor’s opinion. Just be patient and let nature take its course. Mr J added that the side effects would stabilise two years after the end of RT, after which point I most likely would be left with whatever lingering, such as a drier mouth or a subdued sense for sweetness, for the rest of my life.
“Right, two years, so we’re looking at October 2022...... ummm...... that’s 15 months from now......”
Mr J smiled and interrupted my train of thought, “don’t keep tabs on it like that! Stop worrying about them if they’re not interfering with daily life. Live normally. It’s also time to wrap up that radiotherapy side effects tracker.”
Ah, he’s right, there really wasn’t much worth tracking lately.
My scientific brain didn’t stop churning, “how about the chance of recurrence of this super rare cancer? How should we assess the risk, given there’s so little statistics for reference?”
How could Mr J ever let this stubborn scientist patient get away with this self-inflicting anxiety?
With an even bigger grin, he proclaimed,
I expect to have cured you!
I expect to have cured you!
Do I need to repeat this?
“No, no, I get it, Mr J, hahaha!”
Simple message —— just get on with life!
I am a pretty serious person by nature, perhaps too serious when it comes to some trivial matters. It’s time to learn to calibrate my response and let go of some trivia. Just let it pass! Aiming for precision on matters big and small means I’m constantly putting too much on myself for very marginal gains. That doesn’t sound like a very sustainable way to live.
“The tumour was not visible or observable from the outside. How are we going to detect it if it ever returns?”
“Ah, you’ll definitely have symptoms. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”
“That’s why you’re the surgeon, I’m not!”
It was such a joyous meeting. In what way was this an ordinary medical consultation? Wasn’t it more like a catch-up with an old friend?
Work did require me to be back in the warrior queen mode. Watching my body’s signals closely, I realised my body hadn’t protested at all even when I had delivered six days’ worth of work in five days, as if it was nothing! That’s shockingly bad! If my body didn’t say “stop!”, then work would easily displace my hobbies off the schedule. No way! I have to stick to my contractual hours.
It’s not about doing things by the book. It’s about setting safe boundaries.
Never before had I been so, so ill. Never before had honey tasted salty. And never before had I had the opportunity to reflect on my life so thoroughly. All thanks to the ninja. Propped up by the outpouring of love from the four corners of the world, I have come a long way on this cancer journey, which now drew to its close. Life’s journey continues though, so does the trail of love, with a minor course correction: I’ve learnt to be a little more generous to myself; for if I don’t, where comes the energy to love those around me?