“Of all the hardships a person had to face none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.”

Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

In this powerful quote Khaled Hosseini, the author of The Kite Runner and several other internationally acclaimed novels, speaks of the pain of waiting. Throughout my cancer journey waiting, along with uncertainty and fear, have been my constant unwelcome companions. Of course there have been the endless hours spent in doctor’s waiting rooms and waiting in diagnostic imaging departments for CT scans, MRIs and a multitude of tests. I can’t believe how accustomed I’ve become to these environments and to the monotonous routine that they now so strongly represent.

I close my eyes and I can visualize the waiting room chairs, the reception desk, sometimes a television for distraction, and always the tired and worried looks on the other patients’ faces. Some attempt to engage in small talk with other patients or with the caregivers who have accompanied them, others sit silently or try to read or distract themselves with electronic devices. My waiting time at the outpatient clinic at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre is typically half an hour to an hour. It’s common knowledge that Calgary is in dire need of a new cancer centre, as the Baker Centre is more than thirty years old and way over capacity with the volume of patients it now must serve.

My memories of waiting for chemotherapy sessions in the late winter and early spring of 2012 are still extremely vivid in my mind. I can laugh now, but at my first appointment I was worried that some of the veteran chemotherapy patients might be able to tell that I was a newbie. They would ascertain that I looked too healthy and had all of my hair! When I arrived, I noticed that the people around me seemed to have many types and stages of cancer; what is more, a good number of them exhibited full heads of hair. After a short wait of approximately 15 minutes, a nurse led my mother and I into the Baker Centre’s large daycare treatment area. My heart beat faster as we reached my assigned space and I settled into a recliner by the window. The nurse explained what she was doing as she inserted my IV line and then attached some anti-nausea medication in preparation for the potent cancer-fighting drug, carboplatin.

As unpleasant as waiting for physical examinations and chemotherapy appointments can be, for many cancer patients it’s anticipating a future over which they have little control that seems so much more ominous and stressful. I live with the constant pressure of waiting for outcomes that I cannot completely control. When I was originally diagnosed with endometrial and ovarian cancer three years ago, I was referred to the Tom Baker Cancer Centre where my case was reviewed by the Gynecologic Oncology Tumour Board. This team of doctors and specialized pathologists reviews all new referrals to ensure correct diagnosis and to recommend the best treatment plan. Almost instantly I became the patient of one of Western Canada’s most renowned pelvic cancer surgeons, Dr. Prafull Ghatage.

My first consultation with Dr. Ghatage now seems like a lifetime ago. In a few months I’m scheduled for another routine checkup at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre. It’s essential that I be monitored regularly for a possible recurrence or any signs of malignancy; ovarian cancer has a notoriously high recurrence rate. Many women with the disease face at least one recurrence within five years of their first diagnoses. Without resorting to an abundance of medical jargon, I’ve been diagnosed with stage IIIC2 adenocarcinoma of the uterus and stage IC adenocarcinoma of the ovary. As I await my next appointment on February 10, 2015, the encouraging news is that I’m currently in remission—at least I am to my knowledge—and my chances of a complete cure are better the longer I remain in this state. The Canadian Cancer Society defines remission as a decrease in or disappearance of signs and symptoms of cancer. In partial remission, some, but not all, signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared. In complete remission, all signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared, although cancer still may be in the body. According to Ovarian Cancer Canada, 80 per cent of women diagnosed with ovarian cancer will achieve remission.

However, it is unknown if the cancer will come back or how long before it comes back. These unanswered questions linger in every woman’s mind that has ever been diagnosed with cancer and all we can do is wait for the resolution. In the meantime, I’ve made my health my primary focus—a nutritious diet, an appropriate exercise routine and getting enough sleep have never been more important. Obviously I’m careful to take my daily medication; I’ve been prescribed the drug Megace (generic name megestrol), it has been known to reduce recurrence rates in uterine, ovarian and breast cancer patients. Finally, hope and my steadfast determination to live each moment of my life fully and completely remain my allies in this dreadful waiting game. “How much of human life is lost in waiting,” wrote the 19th century transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson. As I continue to face the many realities of cancer in the 21st century I can strongly relate to this long ago observation.