Well, maybe not quite a thousand. But close.

And it stung even more after the tears dried.

There were nights after I popped the pill (at USD 90 a pop, you'd think they'd throw in a ride) I'd wish I didn't have to wake up in the morning, because I knew I wouldn't be able to open my eyes completely.

The blotchiness since Day 5 had subsided substantially, but the dry skin persisted, and on came the acne. Or pseudo-acne, since all facial oils moistening the epidermis are sucked dry. It wasn't vanity pushing me to despair, but the sheer inability to focus and concentrate on anything longer than twenty minutes because the physical discomfort around my eyes, nose, corners of my mouth, my cheeks was just too distracting, frustrating: almost all of the five senses were constantly aggravated and angrily screaming for relief. I don't remember a more emotionally challenging time since Law School.

Low immunity resulting in a cold I couldn't kick for a week — along with nose bleeds from a legal drug, how far down the glam scale have I sunk?! — teamed with low energy had me chucking a tantrum at my mother over the phone, wailing petulantly, 'I don't want cancer anymore!' like it were Brussels sprouts. Like I had a choice.

There were nights when I realised that I craved the non-sexual physical intimacy, the kind I am least familiar with, that I knew would soothe me emotionally, that through the corporal, through touch, body heat, and more tears, the mind would accept it will all be OK. I am lucky to have experienced what I sought, under no pretense, no misunderstanding, just pure, unadulterated giving, with trust and strength. He held me as I wept, as I relaxed and unloaded weeks of sentimental anxiety. He cradled my stinging face in his large, warm, calming palms. He spooned me while I nestled into his engulfing, welcoming embrace. He whispered into my neck that he had faith in me. I was cocooned in kindness, security, love. I believed.

The boy is also honest. "You're not pretty now, but you will be soon." Oh, yes! And no, his blunt candor was not the reason why it hadn't worked out between us. Thank you, sweetie. You are special.

It looks like 'soon' has already arrived! Following a skin regime that Ann dug up for me online (though the author of that useful wisdom didn't quite make it), my doting parents stocked up on just about every type of organic skin care product with aloe vera for me and displayed it all apothecary-style in my room. Now I can finally smile without aging 5 years around my eyes! Together with the warmer temperature in Hong Kong, humidity in the atmosphere, the new nutritional juice regimen as well as the toughest initial weeks of therapy over, I am regaining spirit in the transition back in my parents' home and even venturing into make-up again!

After packing 54 boxes — I supervised — shipping 8 m³ of only personal effects (no furniture) to storage, mailing 3 extra large boxes via China Post, then flying with 77 kg of Summer wardrobe, I did it. I left my beloved apartment, left Shanghai after 7 full years of adult life. It will be a time before Shanghai leaves me yet.

I have another month of therapy before the next scan to determine where we are on this cycle, but the worst should be over, and I'm game and ready to roll. Get in touch and join me here in Hong Kong for any or all of Art Walk, Arts Festival, Literary Festival, Film Festival and my favourite opera, Carmen!

Again, thank you for reading. Blogging allows me to respond to many personal FAQ, communicate creatively and therapeutically my health status (yes, I do get lazy with fan mail) as well as everything else I want to express. Knowing that my words reach you keeps me writing. Launch laughter rather than tears, inspire me with your comments, and do spread the love!

Highlights: Cancer Talk