The majority of my blog entries have been about the procedures and treatments I have been having. As well as giving me an outlet to recap the history of this, I always hope they will help others facing similar things understand what is involved in some of the procedures and regimes I have experienced. It’s always worth remembering this is my journey, not anyone else’s. It’s proving a more complex trip than I expected but many people avoid a lot of what has happened and is happening to me.
This entry is a little different. I don’t talk much about feelings - my feelings are not anyone else’s, and I think everyone has to process what is happening to them in their own way. My approach is to be pragmatic, to research each area that becomes relevant through academic papers etc, and to do the best I can to bring my own agency to the situation to ensure I get the best outcome I can. I don’t have religious belief (although appreciate it may help others), I don’t believe in any form of ‘woo’. I believe positive thinking can help you manage symptoms and side effects, drive you to take care of yourself etc, but it’s not going to change the growth of my cancer. When I reach the end, I believe the only way I will leave an impact on the world beyond that I have achieved in my lifetime, is through the memories I leave in others and the impact I have had on how they conduct themselves. I therefore try to live each day as it comes, get the best out of it, not get stuck in the past or the future.
When my children were young (they are adults now), we joined a local sailing club to support our then sailing mad son. We soon acquired a couple of sailing dinghies. I soon realised I was a rubbish sailor, and that I got much more out of taking on volunteer leadership roles within the club. Still, it sparked an interest in sailing, even if I am no longer able to participate. I follow things such as the Clipper Race, which has point to point races round the globe. Whilst I would never have ocean raced myself, most sailors will be aware of a wind zone known colloquially as the doldrums. It’s a moving area within the Atlantic close to the Equator, where the winds from the north meet up with the winds from the south, and cancel each other out. Boats powered by sail can find themselves stuck in the doldrums for a very long time.
My own progress out of my adverse immunotherapy event has reached the part of the route where I am one of those sailing boats stuck in the doldrums. We are carefully stepping down the steroids in hope the creatinine measures don’t spike too much. We are adjusting levothyroxine levels to get that right. There isn’t much to tell us how long this will take, or indeed whether those winds that propel me forward will resurface, or where I will be when that happens. So it becomes all the more important to live in the present, to enjoy what I can . And fundamentally to have no regrets.
Whatever your own methods are, I hope everyone who reads this can also make the best of their situation, and never, ever blame themselves for what has happened. The biggest risk factor in getting cancer is being a live, mutating creature. Whilst you might be able to change your risk of getting some cancers through a better lifestyle (not mine, as it happens), none of us can change what has happened. Live in the present, it’s the only time period you can do something with.
