in the middle of nowhere?

today is january 28, 2013. so far i have undergone 3 intense rounds of chemo: a week at the end of october, 5 days in december, and 5 days in january. i have one more 5 day round scheduled in february.

while the days are sometimes interminably long, the weeks and months have actually passed quite quickly. in between my second and third rounds of chemo, i had another bone marrow test. dr. leber, my hematology oncologist, told me during a checkup that i was showing 1:10,000 bad cells to good cells. he said this wasn't unusual at my stage in the journey with two more rounds of chemo to go at that point. alix, the wonderful nurse practitioner i see every time i visit the hospital--as well as when i am admitted--keeps telling me i am doing fabulously and that it seems i have become an inspiration to her other leukemia patients that she sees. i hesitate to share that kind of info because i don't want to appear as though i am tooting my own horn, but i need to give a bit of context to my blog entry this time :-)

right now, as i type, i am in oncology day services getting some blood and platelets. i'm a little low on fuel today as the chemo i received a couple of weeks ago is still at work in my body killing what cancer cells might still be there. i am feeling fine and have suffered minimally compared to some people on the same journey. my issues have been kind of secondary to the cancer and the treatment. i have escaped severe nausea, thrush, and the most common side effects. mostly my issues are fatigue and allergic reaction related, either to antibiotics or adhesives. when i visit fellow patients, i am always reminded about how well i am doing. for instance, while most people here lose weight, i have gained 10 lbs since i was admitted in october. while most people can't keep food down, even if i can't taste anything because the chemo has killed even my taste buds, i still have a healthy appetite and cravings for things that other patients wouldn't attempt to ingest. while i did lose my hair, it is showing signs of growth. while my nails have reacted to treatment by turning white and blotchy, at least i don't have the neuropathy that many patients experience. and while i have down times, i'm mostly 'up.'

i just saw alix. she just told me that her other patients that i have met are taking some cues from me, even if it means forcing themselves to get up and get mobile, smile more, worry less, and be more positive. i never thought i would be a poster child for fighting cancer but it seems i am. alix says i have become "the expert" since i have wholly embraced my journey and refuse to let it beat me.

embraced the journey you question? yes. i have. but that doesn't mean i don't often feel like i am in the middle of nowhere...

which is an interesting place to be--the middle of nowhere--a misnomer if you will, because even though it feels like nowhere, it's always actually somewhere. some days i feel like i'm in some liminal space, or worse, limbo...on the cusp of either being sick or well, or in a holding pattern where progress seems like something i have to work harder at today than i had to yesterday.

but the thing is--and this is no new or deep revelation--nothing is something and nowhere is somewhere. when my blood work comes back and there's nothing to report, that "nothing to report" is a good thing. "unremarkable" and "boring" are good words to hear on my journey. "uneventful" is ok sometimes. the feeling like you're not going anywhere is to be expected on the days when you just want the journey to be over because you've reached your destination...but i think the middle of nowhere is right where you need to be to keep going, because once in the middle, you only have half the distance left to go and half the battle left to fight.

more than the lack that is suggested by the middle of nowhere, i am discovering on my journey that deep meaning can be deduced during the down times where not much seems to be happening, and those nondescript occurrences have the tendency of becoming defining moments. your middle of nowhere is hardly the end; it's transitional. and the nothing that you think is happening couldn't be further from the truth. chances are, you're farther along than you realize and you've made great strides that have not gone unnoticed.

on the quiet, uneventful, unremarkable, middle of nowhere days, i am reminding myself that if nothing else, i am already halfway there.

and so are you.

the remoteness or bleakness suggested by being in that state of nowhere is temporary because chances are you're merely off the beaten path...and that's ok because sometimes taking the less traveled path will give you original and authentic experiences, and your breakthrough or destination is right on the horizon.

embrace it.

yolo? oh no!: ggt!!!--part 7

the following is taken from cbc.ca, at http://www.cbc.ca/news/world/story/2012/12/31/banned-words.html

"'Fiscal cliff' and 'spoiler alert' are among the words and phrases that have landed on the 38th annual List of Words to be Banished from the Queen's English for Misuse, Overuse and General Uselessness as decreed by Michigan Lake Superior State University.

Other top banished words and phrases include:

• Bucket list.
• Double down.
• Trending.
• Superfood.
• Boneless wings.
• Guru.
• Job creators and job creation.
• Passion and passionate.
• YOLO.

Released annually, in tongue-in-cheek fashion, the list contains words or phrases nominated by people from all over the world."

2 points to note: i'm no poster child christian, and i don't want to be reincarnated :-)

and another point--the purpose of this blog entry--i disagree with the last banished word/phrase, so i'm quite happy it made the list.

yolo, in texting language, stands for 'you only live once.'

i don't believe you only live once. the bible says each day is new and a fresh start. i believe each day is a chance to live. again. if yesterday was a right off, you can amend any wrongs, make restitution if necessary, and start over.

each day is a clean slate begging for your penmanship.

i get the phrase; it's not that it's incorrect, but it's not entirely accurate either. we do only live once in the physical sense. we have one body and one life to live (was that a soap opera? a soap opera that made at least one correct claim?!? :-) ) anyway, in a real way, we live once and have one life. but, we literally have the chance to live again each day that we're alive. each day is another opportunity for moments that matter...not just minutes on a clock, but moments. this concept of moments versus minutes is taken from a home going celebration message that i heard my pastor back home give one time. he was much more thorough and spiritual but his message stuck and means more than ever to me these days as i fight for my life. certainly, my days are filled with minutes as i pass the time until the next test, exam, bone marrow aspiration, round of chemo, etc., but i am making a more concerted attempt at achieving moments and not just marking off the minutes--even on days like today when it seems like all i do is watch the clock and count the days until i'm discharged from the hospital...because today's moments are tomorrow's memories and i want to make sure i have lots of positive in my conscience (and subconscious) cache of concerns :-)

nicki minaj has a song called "moments 4 life." i'm no loyal fan, but i do feel a certain allegiance to some of the lyrics:

"i fly with the stars in the skies
i am no longer trying to survive

i believe that life is a prize

but to live doesn't mean you're alive...

in this very moment i slay goliath with the sling...

no, i'm not lucky, i'm blessed, yes

clap for the heavy weight champ, me

but i couldn't do it all alone, we...

i wish that i could have this moment

for life, for life, for life

'cause in this moment i just feel so

alive, alive, alive"

and to qualify the above usage, i agree that drawing breath doesn't mean i'm really living--those are just minutes on the clock. making moments and memories? that's living, and not just surviving or existing. and i believe i can have this moment for life...this moment where--despite, and in the face, of my temporary condition--i realize each and every day that i am alive...and i don't believe i have ever felt more alive, regardless of what's going on in my body.

on this day, january 14, 2013, i am currently admitted to the juravinski for more chemo treatment. i am in part 2 of my consolidation cycle (not including my initial 7 day induction cycle), with one more to go in february. after that, my team will decide if chemo has done what it needed to do or if i require more chemo or possibly a bone marrow transplant. in the meantime, i'm not just playing the waiting game, but the living game. and at the end of this game there will be a prize, and i am believing with every fibre and cell of my being like the narrator in victor hugo's les miserables states that "faith brings health."

i have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. and as my body physically allows, i am living every day, doing my best to make moments and not just mark off minutes. i'm not just living once, but every single day, with every single breath.

i dare you to do the same.

because God's got this!!!

happy new year--2013!!!

i challenge you to expect extraordinary moments and eternal blessings in 2013...may your efforts be concentrated and concerted...pursue and accept nothing but the very best for your life--even in the face of what appears unlikely or maybe even impossible--and relentlessly push back, push the envelope, and with God's grace, push yourself to the limit of yourself...because in that moment your weaknesses will be replaced by a strength that will carry you through...

and remember, there's nothing ahead of you--no fork or detour in the road--that you can't handle...

because God's got this!!!

wishing you all the happiest and healthiest year ever!!!

dying to live: ggt!!!--part 6

i am dying to live.

i might have written about this from a different angle before, but this statement has a new meaning for me...

for 7 days straight, 24 hours a day, i received aggressive chemo treatment back in november. about 30 days later i received 3 more rounds of aggressive chemo over 5 days. i will again early on in january and again in february of 2013.

chemo kills all the bad cells that are in my body, in the same way that pesticide kills weeds in a garden. unfortunately, even with all the advancements in cancer treatment, we haven't found a way to only kill the bad weeds. chemo also kills the good growth, wiping out the good with the bad. every round of chemo--basically the injection of pesticides into my body--brings my body to a zero state of immunity and there are great risks of infection that my body isn't equipped to fight in that state.

i am literally dying to live.

this statement has a spiritual element, of course, because every day we need to fight off the bad that threatens to destroy our lives. the devil, even if you choose to believe he doesn't actually exist, he be out ta do bad stuff--cause harmful addictions, create painful relationships, ruin healthy homes, make good people do bad things...so everyday we ought to be doing all we can to protect ourselves by putting God and good first...it's easy to get distracted when you think you are invincible, but diligence and vigilance ensures a better rate of success and survival :-)

aside from the spiritual, in another life versus death battle, every day i am dying to live as my body goes through the process of having all the bad weeds overtaking my garden wiped out, along with what healthy, good growth was there. brought to a zero state of immunity, my body, my mind, my spirit all have a choice to make: fight or flight. diligently and vigilantly stay the course and get the seed packets out and start sprinkling...or tossing by handfuls!...or pack up the gardening tools and miracle grow and give up.

i choose life.

i choose the struggles and the victories of every seed planted and the chance for new growth and life.

because in this process--with every round of aggressive treatment, with every day i wake up, with every side effect that i can see when i look in the mirror and those i can't --i am reminded that my life requires death. my living requires dying. the bad has to go so the good can have a chance to regrow, stronger, healthier, in copious amounts, able to take up all of the soil in my garden so that the bad doesn't stand a chance.

and in this process of dying, as it were, i get to see the miracle of growth when the nurse or doctor hands me a piece of paper that has higher numbers on it today than it did yesterday...i get to see the miracle of growth in my garden when zeroes in my blood count become tens, and twenties, and fifties, and eighties, and higher...i get to see the miracle of growth when the little fuzzy hairs on my bald head stick it out after a round of chemo and are a half of a milimetre longer...i get to see the miracle of growth when cultures and chemistries and scans and procedures come back negative or positive when they need to depending on the test because the killing and planting has been successful...

i get to see the miracle of life after death on a regular basis because i am dying to live. 

and this garden, this mind, this spirit, this body chooses life.

because God's got this!!!