Wow, how time flies. I reviewed my past post and remember that dark place I was at on July 6, 2015. That was just 25 days post transplant. There have been some ups and downs since then. I am so thankful I have had more ups than downs.
My husband and I were talking one evening about this miracle we have experienced. The miracle that medical research has enabled so many sufferers to experience. How thankful we were that I am still here. We confided in each other a fear that neither of us had talked about before.
I was so very scared having massive chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant. But not scared of the actual process or recovery. I was terrified my treatment would cause me to lose me, the me that my husband fell in love with, the me that my children so unconditionally loved and after that I was terrified of what I might become. Thankfully, those fears did not become reality. Today, I am still the same stubborn, tenacious, impatient, goal oriented, never good enough for myself person I was when this all started.
You may think that one cannot experience the journey of a transplant and not have some kind of change? That is probably true. I cry a little easier, feel a little deeper, appreciate my friends and family more. I was a clean eater before but have become an even healthier eater now. I push myself more when feel a little left over side effect try to creep in. My personality does not give way to dwelling on what has happened. It pushes me to not forget, but to file away the horrible experiences in the very dark files of my memory.
A paragraph from a book I read in May. It explains a lot.
Cancer cannot and will not define the rest of my life. I refuse to be paralyzed by what-if's or to live in anticipation of my inevitable demise. It will, for some period, occupy a rather prominent place in my consciousness, but I will not permit it to consume me or the members of my family, who must also cope and adapt. It will be given it's due priority, no more, no less.
I am so very grateful I have been able to begin having my normal again. I was released from Stanford on Monday June 22, 2015, one day earlier than expected. On Tuesday I began my new routine. I walked everyday, even when I was exhausted and by July 20th I was again running. I pushed myself carefully, protecting my weakened muscles but I became stronger everyday. I had a goal to run a 5K on my +100 days post transplant. On Saturday Sept 19, 2015 I accomplished my first goal and ran that 5K with a time just over 34 minutes.
Today, I have registered for a race per month leading up to a half marathon on my one year anniversary. Your mind and body are amazing machines. For me, I survive but letting go, not forgetting but letting go, of the portion of my life that Hodgkin's Lymphoma as occupied. Cancer cannot and will not define the rest of my life.
I finish today's post with my ending paragraph from May. I like what I was thinking then.
Cancer is an amazing disease, really it is. It is a true competitor, it has only one goal and that is to destroy, to take over, to ultimately be the WINNER. What it cannot do is understand the strength of the human body or the strength of the person it is trying to invade. Our bodies are made up of so many incredible defenses. At first cancer thinks it is winning. Confusing all of our cells, having them attack it's foreign existence. It knows that the body alone will not conquer the violence it has ensued upon our cells. It is arrogant and immature. Cancer does not know there are outside forces waiting to stop the violence that has begun. The body it has chosen to invade has many allies. There will be casualties, millions of white blood cells will die as this war begins. Small battles are fought and many small battles are lost. But this is not the end. The generals have seen this enemy we call cancer many times. Cancer has educated our defenses. And the army of doctors, nurses, friends, family and the all important YOU will win the war.
