My Chemotherapy Journey: A Rebirth of Body and Spirit

After my surgery, the breast surgeon at Peking Union Medical College Hospital laid out my treatment plan based on my pathology report: 8 rounds of chemotherapy, 28 rounds of radiation, and 5 years of endocrine therapy.

To be honest, when I received that plan, I felt one thing above all: fear.

I knew nothing about chemotherapy or radiation. The fear of the unknown — it was even more unsettling than the surgery itself. So I went to see a professor at Chengdu University of Traditional Chinese Medicine. I asked hesitantly: could I just do TCM instead? No chemo, no radiation?

She rejected the idea immediately.

She was direct: for cancer treatment, you must follow the Western medical protocol first — to control the disease’s spread as quickly as possible. But TCM can play a crucial supporting role: reducing side effects, slowly rebuilding the body. Integrative medicine — that’s the way forward.

Her words gave me clarity. I made my decision: I would follow her advice.

And so, my four-month chemotherapy journey began.

Before starting, I studied the process carefully. Each round required blood tests beforehand. If I stayed at Peking Union — a top-tier hospital with extreme resource constraints — I would need to shuttle between multiple departments two days before each infusion. The chemo itself would be done in the day-surgery unit, and I’d have to leave right after the drip. For someone whose body would gradually weaken, this was far from ideal.

After weighing my options, I chose a top-tier hospital closer to home in Tianjin. Beds were more available. I could be admitted two days before each chemo session, and nurses would schedule and escort me to all the necessary tests.

Looking back, that decision was wise: choose the best hospital for surgery, the closest hospital for chemotherapy, and a specialized cancer center for radiation. I stayed on TCM throughout, which significantly reduced the side effects.

The First Four Rounds: My Body Held Up

The first four rounds were weekly. I was 45 then — my body still had some fight left. Reactions were mild. No nausea, no vomiting — probably thanks to the TCM. My appetite stayed strong; I even gained a little weight.

The only exception was my heart. For the 7 days following each infusion, my heart would act up: racing one moment, skipping a beat the next, sometimes pausing for just an instant. Those 7 days always felt like walking along an invisible edge — between here and somewhere else.

To keep fear from taking over, I signed up for an online marketing course — filling my mind with something to focus on, leaving no room for anxiety.

One more thing: I slept. A lot. It felt like I was catching up on all the sleep I’d missed in the first half of my life.

The Last Four Rounds: My Body Started Raising Alarms

The last four rounds were every 14 days. Side effects hit in full force. My hair fell out in clumps. Eventually, even my eyebrows and eyelashes disappeared.

Looking at my bald reflection, I couldn’t help but laugh: I’m truly free of worldly attachments now — ready to become a nun.

From the sixth round onward, my body weakened noticeably. My white blood cell count dropped. CT scans showed ground-glass opacities in my lungs. My liver and kidney function markers went abnormal. Chemotherapy kills cancer cells — but it also takes a toll on every other cell in your body.

But there was one unexpected piece of good news. Because I was on TCM alongside chemo, my doctor was surprised to find that the nodules in my left breast — the one that hadn’t been operated on — had also disappeared. A silver lining, if there ever was one.

Eight Rounds Complete: Everything Was Reborn

Eight rounds. I went from a full head of black hair to a completely bald scalp.

The cancer cells were gone. And in the process, every other cell in my body had been reborn — countless times.

Each round of chemo, including tests, cost about 3,000 RMB. Eight rounds totaled 24,000 RMB — roughly $3,500 USD. Of that, 85% was covered by China’s social health insurance, and the remaining 15% by my private supplemental insurance.

I didn’t pay a single dollar out of pocket. But I walked a full circle around the line between life and death.

What I want to say is this: that road was hard. But it also showed me many things clearly. Fear is real. Pain is real. But rebirth is also real. As long as you’re willing to keep moving forward, a path will open beneath your feet.

我的化疗之路：一次身体与意志的重生

手术后，协和医院的乳腺外科医生根据病理报告，为我制定了后续治疗方案：8次化疗、28次放疗，以及5年的内分泌治疗。

说实话，拿到方案那天，我心里只有一个念头：怕。

我对放疗、化疗一无所知，那种“未知”带来的恐惧，甚至比手术本身更让人不安。于是我去找了成都中医药大学的一位教授，试探着问：能不能只吃中药保守治疗，不做放化疗？

她当场否定了我的想法。

她说得很直接：癌症治疗，必须优先听从西医的方案，以最快速度控制住疾病的扩散。但中药可以作为重要的辅助手段，帮助减少放化疗的副作用，慢慢调理身体。中西医结合，效果会更好。

她的话让我安了心。我决定：听她的。

于是，我开始了为期四个月的化疗之旅。

开始前，我仔细研究了化疗的流程。每次化疗前都需要抽血检查特定指标，如果选择协和这样资源紧张的顶级医院，意味着化疗前两天要在几个科室之间来回奔波，而化疗当天只能在日间手术室输液，输完就得走。对于身体会逐渐虚弱的我来说，这显然不是最优解。

权衡之后，我选择了家附近的一家天津三甲医院。这里床位不紧张，可以根据身体状况选择住院时间。每次化疗前两天办理住院，所有检查都由护士提前预约、陪同完成。

回过头看，这个选择非常明智——手术选最好的医院，化疗选最近的医院住院治疗，放疗选技术成熟的专科医院。同时坚持服用中药，最大程度减轻了治疗过程中的副作用。

前四次化疗：身体还算扛得住

前四次化疗每7天一次，那时我45岁，身体底子还在，反应不算大。没有虚弱感，也没有恶心呕吐——可能因为一直在喝中药，食欲甚至比生病前还好了一点，体重还涨了几斤。

唯一的异常是心脏。每次化疗后的7天内，心脏总是不太安分：时而跳得快，时而慢半拍，有时甚至会有瞬间的停顿感。那种感觉，就像这7天里始终游走在一条看不见的边界上。

为了不让自己被那种恐惧吞噬，我给自己报了一个线上网络营销课程——用学习来填满大脑，不给恐惧留空间。

整个化疗期间，我还有一个明显的感觉：嗜睡。好像把前半辈子欠下的觉，都在那几个月里一口气补了回来。

后四次化疗：身体开始报警

后面四次化疗改成了14天一次。副作用开始全面显现——头发一把一把地掉，最后连眉毛、眼睫毛都掉光了。

看着镜子里光秃秃的自己，我忍不住想：这下真的是六根清净了，可以直接出家为尼了。

从第六次化疗开始，身体明显虚弱下来。白细胞下降，CT显示肺部出现磨玻璃影，肝肾功能指标也出现异常。化疗在杀死癌细胞的同时，确实毫无差别地把全身细胞都筛了一遍。

但也有一件意料之外的好事——因为同时在服用中药，加上化疗的作用，医生惊喜地发现，我左侧未做手术的乳房里的结节也消失了。这大概算是“不幸中的万幸”吧。

八次化疗结束：一切都重生了

八个疗程结束，我从一个满头黑发的人，变成了一个光秃秃的大光头。

癌细胞被杀死了，全身的细胞也跟着重生了无数次。我知道，那个崭新的身体，是拿命换来的。

整个治疗过程，每次化疗加检查费用约3000元人民币，8次一共24000元，约合3500美元。其中85%由我国的社会医疗保险支付，剩余的15%由我购买的商业保险覆盖。

我没有花一分钱，却在生死边缘游走了一圈。

但我想说的是：那条路虽然难走，但也让我看清了很多东西。恐惧是真实的，痛苦是真实的，但重生也是真实的。只要你愿意往前走，总会有一条路在脚下展开。