Every three weeks, for my Doctor’s appointment, I have to pull this little baby out the bag… My Game Face.
It oozes positivity and confidence, sure.
Since my diagnosis, I have very much been a fan of managing My Myeloma in chunks, or sections if you will. I quickly realised it was the only way to protect my brain and thus my person, and I guess others, from a mental breakdown. I’ve allowed myself to think about the future, but only briefly, for thoughts are swiftly pushed out for me to focus on the now (or then). I have lived within each three week cycle and each cycle only. This got me through PADIMAC. The future was for me to manage in the future.
I now find myself in my future.
I have known since October that I would require a stem cell transplant at some point and when that point arrived, I would need to make a decision about whether I had my own stem cell or Big Sister’s. If it was scary before, it is terrifying now. As scary as the transplant seems, it is the decision before that which is plaguing my thoughts and my dreams. The decision is not months away and something that can be put to the back of my mind anymore. The decision is imminent and I have to decide whether to bring my volatile best player out at the start of the match, or wait for extra time.* It’s length of remission versus possible death, without any certainty of either.
Decisions, decisions, decisions…
I am yet to consult properly with my doctors about this, that is on Wednesday. Fun.
Manageable chunks seemed to make so much sense before, but I do not have a screaming whatsit what I am going to do now.
It is all I can think about.
This sorry tale will most definitely be continued…
* A Twin gave me that metaphor. I like how it only partially works.