This Isn't Over ... The Recovery Continues

To get the full background about my cancer, please go here.

From mid-February to early May, I had no hair due to a side effect of one of the chemotherapy drugs. My treatment included three chemotheraphy drugs. My hair is back in full and I've been hiking a ton. In fact, I've hiked over 260 miles this hiking season and even completed the famous Four Pass Loop in late August. That's 30 miles in a day, if you're counting. It was my 9th time and I felt great at the end.

People come up to me every day and comment about my hair and how I look. "You look great," they say. "How are you doing?" they ask because people genuinely care.

"Fine," I reply. "Just fine."

Is that really true? No.

A few months ago, I read an article in The Daily Telegraph about The Princess of Wales, who went through a cancer battle a while ago. You can see the article here.

She talks about the battle continuing when it looks to the outside world that it's over.

Yes, I completed my treatments. Yes, I'm in remission. Yes, my hair is back. Yes, I look a lot better than I did just after my final treatment session. And that's all great and I'm very lucky.

But the mental, emotional, and spiritual fight continues. I look at this like I would look at recovering from the flu. Recovery takes time and requires patience. But this phase of the recovery is really, really hard.

The wonderful people at The Shaw Cancer Center tell me it's normal to feel this way. But that doesn't make it any easier.

My sister set up a Go Fund Me and it’s here. Thank you to everyone who has contributed. Please share as you see fit.

The Curious and Vexing Complexities of Life and Recovery

Some background first. I was diagnosed with diffuse large b-cell lymphoma in mid-November. It's a common form of blood cancer. You can read about the background here.

Here’s an update between updates. It’s an update about the start of recovery.

It’s been over a month since my last PET scan plus the corresponding visit with the oncologist on March 20. The scan was clear of pets and cancer and the oncologist was beaming as she entered the exam room in the Blood Disorders department at Anschutz Cancer Center. I had my last treatment session a week later in Edwards at The Shaw Cancer Center. At least I hope it’s my last treatment session.

I’ll know for sure when I go back for what is hopefully my last PET scan in Denver on May 15. That’s another big day. I’ll also visit with the oncologist. I hope she's smiling from ear to ear.

Things could still go sideways between now and May 15. However, it’s not premature to talk about recovery.

Each treatment session comprised an immunotherapy drug, three chemotherapy drugs (three!), plus steroids. It’s heavy stuff, poisons really, but treatment has worked thus far. It kills the bad stuff while killing some good stuff.

I have to remember … the drugs course through every part of your body, including the brain and vital organs.

My hair fell out, as predicted, but now it’s growing back. I find the latter super-exciting. I have some fuzz on top of my head. Yes!

Physically, I’m starting to feel a lot stronger. Ten days ago, I could not walk up a flight of stairs without having to stop for a few minutes at the top to recover. But yesterday, I walked 18 holes and felt mostly fine. I add my golf to my hiking totals as golf in my little world is more about hiking than golf. Yes, that’s a bit cheeky. Either way, I’m starting to feel like I’ll be able to hike as normal once hiking season comes around which might be a little earlier than last season due to less snow this spring. I love my hiking.

The doctors semi-promised some neuropathy and they followed through. I feel some numbness towards the end of my fingers and on the soles of my feet. The treatments have impacted nerve endings but they should recover eventually.

The medicines in the treatment protocol impact every part of the body and maybe I have some issues with concentration from time to time but that’s pretty normal for me.

But the real impact comes in the realm of the emotional, the spiritual, and the professional. The treatments and this medical episode have hammered these foundations of my life.

On top of all this, over the last four months, I’ve had one huge part of my life that’s vexed and confused me and simply added to the stress. My fault. But this leads to insomnia, which is something I hate.

And then, on February 6, in Green Park Tube Station in Central London, my best friend in the world died of a heart attack. He used to call me at least once a month to check on me and simply tell me how much he loved me. How I miss him and his calls and our deep friendship.

Cancer can be a lonely place and I’ve had such amazing and powerful support from my Aspen community and my friends who live elsewhere. I have to use this as the foundation of rebuilding my foundations. I have to remember how lucky I’ve been. There was a man who was just 30 who had just died at Shaw a few days before my final treatment session. You could see how much this impacted the nurses organizing my treatment. Cancer is a nasty, nasty beast. Many people spend years fighting lymphoma and other cancers. I might be fully over this, physically, in mid-May. The other parts will take longer but I’ll fight to get through those.

I've been fortunate to have a lot of normalcy in my world since the diagnosis in early November but I crave even more. So ... I'll provide an update after that May 15 visit to Denver and if that's me done and dusted then I'll take all this stuff down some time in early June. How is that for a goal? I'm a private person by nature and I've been public here to share my story because so many people care and want to know what's happening, which is humbling.

My sister set up a Go Fund Me and it’s here. Thank you to everyone who has contributed. Please share as you see fit.