Um, hello. I just wanted to add a quick post to inform you that it has been exactly one year since I was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. It's hard to believe it has already been that long since I got my first bone marrow biopsy (ew/ow) and heard my diagnosis for the first time.
During that time I have moved through three phases of my treatment plan. This included a month hospital stay, intense chemotherapy treatment, receiving blood products, MRIs, CT scans, ultrasounds, x-rays, brain radiation, steroids, and being admitted to the hospital twice due to fevers. Side effects were quite difficult and painful at times. Hair loss was (and still is) tough. Also still really hating needles...so the weekly bloodwork and IVs are not my favourite.
Since you last checked in a couple of months ago a few things have changed. I am now in cycle E of W in the fourth phase of treatment (I still go for bloodwork and treatment every week). I finished my Master's degree. I turned 28. My hair is growing back!
I have been breaking the rules a bit as of late. After having missed most of the summer last year I was itching to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin again so I've been doing some lounging on my deck and have even made it to the beach! Yes, mom, I'm wearing sunscreen.
Also, I began to feel more like myself in May and thought I should start working out. So I went to the gym and would do a really intense workout (or as I like to call it, walking slowly on the treadmill). This was fine at first but then I started to feel some pain in my hip. I took a break for a few days and it went away. When I went back to the gym the pain returned and did not go away. I was limping around, it was hard to get into bed or the car, it was hard to be comfortable enough to sleep, and it was hard to bend over to pick things up. My oncologist suggested I start going to physio and got me in to get an X-ray that day. It showed some bone degradation in my right hip. Then he said he wanted to get an MRI to get a clearer picture of what was going on and said I'd need to see an orthopedic surgeon. The MRI showed degradation in both hips (AVN). Worst case scenario would be hip surgery so let's just hope we can avoid that.
In a couple weeks I will find out more but the good news is I am no longer taking steroids (they are the reason for the bones degrading) so I will have fewer difficult side effects. Normally, one would want to continue the steroids for the rest of treatment, but the risk of further bone degradation outweighs the benefits of taking them. Hopefully being off the steroids will help me to look less Bill-like.
One of the best things that has happened in the last year has been completing my Master's of Education degree. It has kept me busy and kept my brain working during this time. It has been truly inspiring and I feel so lucky I was able to experience this journey with a group of such incredible women! I am excited to be able to implement all I have learned when I am able to return to the classroom.
Thank you to everyone for all of your love and support, especially my family. They have brought me to every appointment, massaged my legs and feet countless times, taken care of me every step of the way, and made each day brighter. They're the best! Thank you to my friends for your kind words, cards, and visits. Thank you to anyone who has sent messages or words of encouragement. It has all meant so much.
I leave you with a story I wrote for my final assignment of my last course which represented the learning and knowledge gained throughout the course and my own journey as an educator.
There were once two children, a boy and a girl. They played in the forest freely – climbing the tall tree trees, swimming in the cool river, digging in the dark soil, and laying in the patches of warm sun, just thinking and imagining and talking. The two were uninhibited in their lush environment, which graciously lent itself to exploration and seemed to encourage play. One summer day they found a seed and planted it in the rich soil of the forest, the leafy trees watching from above. They liked wondering about the seed and tried to imagine what it might become.
When they returned to the forest in the autumn, the children were surprised to find their seed had grown immensely. Almost overnight, a sapling had emerged. It was a beech tree, young and spry, stretching out towards the sun. However, the forest they knew felt different. A cool wind blew the clouds to cover to sun. The trees seemed fragile, beginning to lose their once green leaves. They played near the river but it was too cold to swim now. The soil was covered in layers of decaying foliage from the branches above. They were still able to explore, but less freely than before, constricted by the inescapable changes of season.
The winter was bitter. The children could no longer wade in the river – it was frozen over. They could not dig in the ground – it was too hard and rigid. When they climbed the trees it felt empty to be in their leafless boughs. The clouds had moved in to completely fill the sky with their greyness. Everything was covered in a blanket of snow, cold and all encompassing. Still, in the silence and starkness, the beech tree stood strong against the elements. They sat quietly together in the middle of the forest. It was quiet and loud all at once.
Then spring arrived and with it came rain. It washed over the trees, plants, and earth. The sun began to thaw the land, melting snow and ice as it shone. Leaves were impatiently waiting to burst from their cages, trapped inside budding branches. The river began to flow freely again, babbling and gurgling with delight. The soil softened. The beech tree had grown taller and began to push out new growth – green and pure. Its roots had plunged deeper into the earth. Bees buzzed around lazily, working alongside the breeze to pollinate the various floras. The children savoured this newness that surrounded them. The air felt fresh with possibility and life.
At long last, it was summer. The sun was strong and engulfed the world in its warmth. The forest was flourishing - abundant with life. The children were finally able to douse and immerse themselves in the river. The trees welcomed them into their branches, which were filled with vivid colour again. They accepted the invitation to explore in the rich soil once more. The beech tree was thriving, rooted firmly in its place, its trunk adorned with cascading limbs and vibrant leaves. The forest at that time seemed to have its own heartbeat that connected everything, including the children. The beech tree continued to grow and went on to produce its own seed-bearing fruit. The children continued to return to the forest and somehow the changes in season were not so cruel anymore. Instead, they encouraged discovery and new understandings.