A Quick Update

Many of you have been asking about yesterday's scan results. I'm afraid I don't have them yet and won't know the outcome of the tests until 6th July. I'm telling you, having cancer isn't the hard part, it's the waiting that eats you up!

This week I'm planning on taking care of myself. Resting, exercising and eating healthily. I want to be as prepared as possible (both physically and mentally) for my transplant. The six-day chemo can try and crush me, but just watch and wait, I'll come back even stronger.

Scanxiety

This is what I want from tomorrow. A clean scan.

Tuesday Thoughts

"If you care about something you have to protect it – If you’re lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it."
- John Irving (A Prayer for Owen Meany)


I have now officially completed two cycles of ICE. With honours, if I may brag a bit. Of course, this last weekend has been horrendous and I've basically moved in the orbit of bed-sofa-bathroom, but still, I consider it an achievement to be up and about today. Actually, I'm feeling fine. I might even walk to the local library later on in the day.

My schedule from now on is as follows. On 27th June I'll be having my decisive PET scan - the results of which will determine the course of treatment. If there has been considerable reduction of the tumor activity, they'll move on to the stem cell transplant, starting the harvesting of the cells on 7th July. If not, two more ICE cycles will be given. Obviously, I'm hoping and praying for the first option, although at the same time, I'm scared shitless. Having a bone marrow transplant wasn't definitely part of my plans this summer. I wish I didn't have to go through this. Surely there must be a way I can weasel myself out of it?

Memory Lane

One year has passed since I was diagnosed with this disease. I approach it quite differently now than I did before. Last year my only thought was how I was going to make it through six months of chemo. Not once did it cross my mind that the treatment might not work. Now I wonder how I'm going to make it at all. I'm completely focused on beating this. Getting a clean PET scan means the world to me. The doctors tell me my chances that the stem cell transplant will work are 50%. All of a sudden this doesn't feel like the "good cancer" anymore...

Anyway, being bored as I am, I've decided to post a few pictures that I took during the ABVD treatment in summer 2010. I photographed myself and how my hair was gradually falling. With ICE chemotherapy it has been a different story all together. My hair fell off on 5th June 2011 at once. I'm bald as a baby. The last photo is of  today in the hospital. It feels weird to be completely hairless, but hey, if that's what it takes to cure me, I'm all for it. Bigger guns for nastier cells. Bring it on.

June 2010: Before ABVD treatment

July 2010:
After two ABVD chemotherapy sessions.
My hair is starting to look like a mess.

August 2010: the hair is thinning already.
After this picture I
started to wear hats.
In November shaved it short.

TA-DAA. This is me today! Oh dear.
Also feeling slightly nauseous.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Yes, people. It's falling off again.

50/50

"You can't change your situation. The only thing you CAN change is how you choose to deal with that."