Hello everyone!

I continue to publish my diary and the story of my illness. My thoughts, feelings and actions. I really hope that these lines will help someone.

Part 3

Cancer and lies

Someone has told me that Vedic culture justifies two kinds of lies: a child's lie, without protection in front of an adult, and the lies of a man seducing a woman. I do not know if it's true, but I've been lying all the time. Not naive, like a child, and not intriguing, like a seducer. My lie is cold-blooded and serially, as a scout (ours, Soviet, of course, out of good motives). To those who know about my oncology-quest, I'm lying that I feel good. For those who do not know - that I am very busy with a large-scale new project, that is why I can not even talk on the phone . I lie to doctors. For example, today, in a conversation with a new chemotherapist, I allegedly forgot the name of one of the medicines in the Israeli protocol. Funny little test. A ridiculous, desperate attempt at the essence of a defenseless little man to somehow protect oneself. I hope the Vedas forgive me.

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Gender Games Again

Of course, he's married. What else could I wait for?
My novel ended, not having begun - I saw HIM in the morning, loading the basins into the car. There was a slender girl with long hair at the wheel. Then they talked a little, and she left. He stayed. And I stayed, with mild sadness. Ah, neighbor my neighbor, what you have done... I could have expected everything from you, but not like that, with the basins ...

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Chemotherapy

Paclitaxel. Fourth day after the first dropper. I'm the Button. Intervally Benjamin Button. Over the months of treatment, I was old and young many times. I will have nothing to do in retirement. I already know everything there: I grew up on the couch, watched TV shows, knited socks, reflected in the mirror, and felt completely deformed. Here and now - I sit, knit and smear my aching legs and hands with some stinking shit from my mother's first aid kit. From my mother, damn, a retirement kit. When it gets really bad, I turn into the embryo pose and lie for hours. It remains to wait, when my hair will be lost, and the resemblance to the embryo will be complete. Ohhhh...

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And yet - why do they need so many basins?
My rudimentary, unheard-of romance brought me to unpleasant thoughts: what next? Do I have the right to a serious relationship with a man now, and from what date on the account of a disease-free year, does this right come into effect? Should I tell him about my anamnesis? If so, when and what? And how to explain the scars before: in Bulgakov's way - "on the Kolchak fronts"? And, in general, do I need someone now, with such a history? Even if the disease does not return, and the body somehow smoothes the physical damage caused by it, the fear will remain and, probably, forever.
I talked with girls who have been through cancer. Many have years of remission behind their backs, but they are still afraid.

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It seems that over time, fear changes character - in the long months of treatment it is viscous and moist, like a swamp mist. You wander through it days, weeks, sometimes with hope, sometimes in despair, but mostly mechanically. You go, even when the fear thickens to the state of dirty foam, rearranging the invisible legs along the invisible firmament. In the fog sometimes it seems that it has no end. That it is eternal, and you are not, and you are just wasting yourself because you do not have goals at all. Rather, it is, but you will not like it. Although, who knows, maybe, at this point, the fog and road will exhaust you so much that you will be happy at any end. Maybe this is their high destiny.
I know this fear already. As well as these thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Thoughts of dirty foam. As far as I can, I try to protect my loved ones from them and certainly I will not drag this new person into this sticky horror. But what's next? After the end of treatment?

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The girls say that as you move away from the illness, fear does not disappear at all. It simply walks away, reminding of itself with schedule and without - by feeling pain somewhere, or heard or read something. It seems that from now, my fear will always be with me. And in any house in which I live, it will take a separate place. A secret room of the Blue Beard. There are corpses in this room. My corpses. There are just as many corpses as many times I imagined myself dead. I can tell everything to my beloved and give him the keys to this room. Or not tell, but he will feel it by his skin and see how horrified my face when we come too close to the door. Which option is correct, which one to choose, and what will it lead to?

Temptations

Cancer is a great test. I'm not talking about physical suffering and a threat to life. Cancer as war is a process with a powerful energy charge. You can leave it alive or dead and never - the same as before. It changes people. Checks on the strength of will, character and principles. Tempts: "Give up!", "Do whatever you want with yourself or those who love you so much, and so afraid of losing you! Who is a judge for you now? You can do anything now."

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Cancer is both an indulgence and a terrible weapon. It seduces, and if you succumbed to the temptation - that's it, you are standing under it's banners, and wearing the uniform of it's colors. Cancer is main now. It won. Cancer, like a mythical dragon, encroaches on the body, but can also take away the soul. It can take even life from life, leaving only routine everyday life for you. Infinite oncology life...

I apologize for the possible mistakes that arose in the translation. There are idioms that are difficult to translate into another language.

You can read all parts of the diary here:###

1. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-1-farewell-to-my-hair
2. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-1-friends-mama-it-started
3. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-1-israel-hospital
4. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-1-bells-relatives-about-luck
5. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-1-presence-of-spirit-what-i-do-not-need-lighthouses-and-
6. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-god-forbid-if-you-will-meet-it-again-you-have-not-seen-me-and-
7. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-wonders-of-telephone-medicine
8. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-traffic-cops-and-me-sometimes-i-feel-very-ashamed
9. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-unexpected-side-of-israeli-medicine-oldness
10. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-the-day-of-my-operation
11. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-drainage-and-patriotism
12. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-2-children-is-our-future-gender-games
13. https://steemit.com/life/@obrenia/my-diary-part-3-depression-fear