Onwards and Upwards No. 40
Hello my healing team,
I hope this update finds you well.
It’s has been a while since I last wrote. I guess that I really haven’t had anything meaningful to say, or any good news to pass on. I find that if my mind is in a whirl with all of the challenges, when I am having a crap time of it, then I find it hard to write. It is hard to conjure meaningful authenticity when all I have to say is crap, crap, shite shite, help.
Six months ago, I really thought I was prepared for the eventual relapse. I was flying along, numbers slowly increasing, but generally feeling strong enough to handle anything. I now know that I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to give up my normality and routine of work, family and socialising. I wasn’t ready to go into a program of self injecting drugs that make you feel really unwell for days on end, and nor was I ready to accept that my prognosis of 10 years was now statistically 5-6 years given the relapse. The reality is that I was never going to be ready for that.
The greatest challenge with relapse is managing the mind game. All of a sudden I find myself in the position where there is no certainty. My treatment plan has me on low dose Chemo until March, then in April I have my first (of two) stem cell transplants. The uncertainty arises given no one knows whether any of the treatments will work. The uncertainty breeds fear, the fear breeds anxiety and the anxiety mess’s with your head. Tough times.
Over the last few months, for the first time since diagnosis, I have spent a lot of time thinking about death. It comes with the anxiety. We all know that with each day we get one step closer to dying, but the reality for most is that they picture themselves having passed away, laying in a coffin with grey hair, many wrinkles (except for those that Botox), and a full life of fun and love behind them. I just want the same thing. But the likelihood of this eventuality is tested when anxiety creeps in, when the uncertainty and disempowerment imposes its will.
Yesterday, I was given some reprieve. I have recently had testing done, through bone marrow biopsy, and results indicate a 50+% drop in cancer levels. The Myeloma has gone from 20-30% to <10%. phew. It is a great relief because it means that the drugs are working, and it validates the last few months of weekly injections. Really, it makes all of the ‘feeling crap’ OK. I can now compartmentalise the feeling of uncertainty and I can feel myself becoming empowered again. Aaaaarrrggghhh. All of a sudden I want to be active again. I want to keep doing good things! I want to strive into my 80s!! I will continue my journey Onwards and Upwards.
Are you coming with me???
Love to all
Geoff
Oh btw – a fab group of friends and I will deliver the Inaugural MY Mount Eliza Run & Fun Festival. It is in support of Myeloma Australia. We want you there to run, walk or just be present. We really need people to register at . Go on….. do it for me :). Thanks
Hi Geoff,
Hang in there. The stem cell transplant can really work – mate of mine with same cancer had the transplant over 25 years ago now, and has been good ever since. It’s a tough treatment….no doubt still sime shit days ahead.
Thanks Ian. I have my faith in the SCT now. Fingers crossed as we move Onwards and Upwards hey!!
Keep fighting Geoff – remain strong and onwards and upwards. The mental awareness and strength you display in this post is inspiring. I look forward to the day Botox comes to you!
We are all with you big guy. Will definitely be at the event of the year in March.
Great news Geoff – just think that that run we’re doing together in March gets you closer to living to 80 years of age – step by step, pace by pace, breath by breath, etc – awesome!!
I’m with Trav on the Botox thing but trust me, you don’t need it yet!!