“Indolent,” he said.

Is the glass half full? Or is it half empty?

 

“Indolent,” he said, “…it is indolent.”

Indolent is the opposite of me. I cannot sit still, I have never been considered lazy. Yet, indolent was used to describe the lymphoma that I was diagnosed with on Thursday, the 3rd of November, 2022. It was used to describe the Mantle Cell Lymphoma, a cancer of the blood, a Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma that is now a part of me and my medical history.

Indolent, is a good thing.

When I look up the disease, I don’t see anything good. I was told, by my GP, that more than likely nothing was wrong, but she wanted me to see a hematologist. She had a particular one in mind. I saw him. He ended up by saying that I probably had one of two diseases: MCL (Monoclonal B Cell Lymphocyctosis), a precursor to CLL (Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia, and the other option dealt with by a pill, but oh no, I had to opt for a rare case of Mantle Cell Lymphoma, which has a survival rate…oh, let’s not go there.

My version of Mantle Cell Lymphoma is indolent. It has shown up for three years and has scarcely changed, just a little bit more in the 3rd test this year. It may well require nothing more than monitoring and may never get worse, but it is cancer.

Cancer is a disease that I feel has been stalking me. My dad died at 40 and I had the odd feeling that my date with the maker would be same. I am going to be 71 this December, so clearly I have lucked out. My mom and sister had cancer and so did my paternal grandfather.

My aunt saved me and thus my mom said I was living on borrowed time. As a baby, I turned blue in my crib and my aunt, the aunt who was an alcoholic and had an untimely young death, saved my life.

I cannot help but think that trauma to me and my family since the Pandemic has caused my cancer to appear, but at the same time I wonder what caused it to be currently non-aggressive and indolent.

We shall not know, we need to take one day at a time and not make assumptions.

On Friday, after the diagnosis, we came to Santa Fe, where I am now writing this blog post. I need catharsis and blogging does that for me. Santa Fe is like a shot in the arm that makes me realize that going on and making the best of everything is the choice I need to make and accept.

So be it!…out out, damn cancer!

Meanwhile, I involve myself in the emotional dance of the recognition that I have the disease and that I have to deal with it.

About Richard Koerner

Seventy something, father, papi, educator, organizer, Francophile, traveler, amateur photographer, gardener, cyclist, kayaker, calligrapher, cinephile, reader, and overall renaissance type human being.
This entry was posted in Cancer, Life in general, Thoughts and philosophy. Bookmark the permalink.

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