@merpreb
I can so relate to your reaction of self-isolation but perhaps for different reasons. When going through chemo, I was focused on self-preservation -- driving to-and-from treatments, shopping, going to the gym, paying bills. Yes, people offered to drive me, but that would mean having to deal with their issues (infusions lasted 4 hours each week and they would not be so enthused about helping after their first experience with that). And I found that many of their questions and comments were anxiety-producing, especially the friends who had had cancer and only needed a round of radiation. They were totally clueless about hormone receptors and HER2. (This was true even for members of my local Cancer Community group.) Often they wanted to influence me with their minimal treatment choices or their friends' choices, as if one could compare diagnoses and treatments. I had done a lot of research on my diagnosis, and they had done none on theirs... and they wanted to tell me how they were now "cancer-free," and I knew that I could never make that claim under the circumstances.

The majority of my friends didn't want to acknowledge my cancer journey at all. The subject was terrifying to them and so I kept it to myself. They also made the assumption that, when the chemo was completed, that I should be able to jump right back into business-as-usual. (It's been nearly two years, and I'm still wrestling with chemo brain and the crippling after effects of chemo-induced neuropathy.) There was only one friend, living in a state about 800 miles away, who truly had a handle on it all because of her science background. God bless her.

So, yes... self-isolation can be a reasonable reaction to The Emperor of All Maladies.