Chapter 1: The Harsh Truth About Chemotherapy

Chemotherapy is a brutal experience. It’s painful and exhausting, and I despise it. My disdain for chemotherapy rivals a young girl's aversion to boys, a child’s dislike for homework, or a teenager's fury when their phone is taken away. It’s an uphill battle, and I find myself feeling utterly miserable.

Recently, I completed my third round of chemotherapy out of a total of twelve treatments—scheduled every two weeks for two days over the course of six months. This aggressive regimen aims to combat stage-three colon cancer caused by a significant tumor and multiple malignant lymph nodes. While numbers can often be abstract, the reality of chemotherapy is anything but.

As a 46-year-old man, I feel like I’ve been turned into a whiny child. The side effects are relentless: nausea, neuropathy, migraines, and unyielding fatigue. The medical community refers to my exhaustion as "fatigue," avoiding the term "lethargy" to prevent sounding pretentious. Even my sense of taste has turned against me; everything feels like I'm eating shards of metal, reminiscent of chewing on aluminum foil.

Chemotherapy is just one of many unpleasant aspects of life. Sure, there are things like slow internet connections, hangnails, and traffic jams that can be frustrating. There are also rotten eggs and rude people, inconvenient bathroom breaks during long commutes, and ex-partners showing up at social gatherings. The list of life's irritations is endless: bad breath, bureaucracy, expired coupons, and warm lemonade.

Yet, amidst all these annoyances, chemotherapy stands out as the worst of the bunch.

People often say, "It's better than the alternative," or "Cancer can be a gift if you choose to see it that way." They spout platitudes like, "This too shall pass," and "It's temporary," but it feels anything but brief. The notion that this is part of my healing process feels monstrous. "You're 25% through it," they remind me, as if that provides any consolation.

Chemotherapy forces me to slow down and reflect. It challenges my previous belief in my invincibility. I can’t help but think about how fortunate I once was to be healthy. I long for the days of enjoying overpriced cocktails with friends, going to work, and indulging in creamy gelato. I miss the simple joys of life—like taking a cab home and texting my partner about dinner plans.

Now, I find myself resenting pharmacies and insurance companies, and grappling with the reality of tumors that have been growing inside me for years.

As I write this on Day Thirty-Six, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve become a fragile version of myself. Chemotherapy truly sucks.

The first video titled "Chemo Sucks. Science Is Changing That" delves into the ongoing advancements in cancer treatment, highlighting the efforts to alleviate the harsh realities of chemotherapy.

Chapter 2: Understanding Chemotherapy

The second video, "What The Hell Is Chemotherapy And Why Does It Suck So Bad? | Dr Chris Raynor Explains," offers a comprehensive explanation of chemotherapy, discussing its purpose and the reasons behind its challenging side effects.