In the last few weeks, I have not thought that much about the fact that I have cancer. When I initially thought of that statement, I was going to say ‘recently’, until I recalled that my last crash was only three weeks ago and I know that back then, all those hours ago, I thought about it a lot. That’s the thing about My Myeloma; I’m only as good as my current good weeks. The bad gets forgotten, and it will stay that way until I start chugging down those ‘roids again on Friday, actually, when I come off them on Tuesday.* So, to rephrase; today, I have not thought that much about the fact that I have cancer. It may even extend to last week too, if we can exclude a few live episodes of the roadshow here and there (I even did one on the phone). Ah, the beauty of telecommunications.
Fatigue *may* have been stalking me a bit this week (just ask my pillows), but apart from that, and whilst we are on the subject, some bone pain, I feel a-okay.
Today, for reasons I am not going to share because I am sure you would find it mind numbingly boring and EJ Bones is about cancer. It’d be called EJ Jones otherwise, and then I really would get into trouble telling people about all the aspects of my life and The Network. I’ve watched Julia and Julia. I know about the pitfalls of blogging. Anyway, I am digressing… Today, I worried about something that wasn’t cancer. It actually preoccupied my thoughts. I know that that has happened previously in the last eight months, but I cannot remember when exactly (like I said, only as good as my current good week). Having to engage my brain in something wholly, not wholly, but you know, a lot, with something that for today and perhaps tomorrow and even the next day depending on how tomorrow goes, that is not my illness, banishing It to the sidelines, no matter how stupid I may look, or how flustered I get working things out during this break, is kind of nice.
I nearly text somebody earlier, I have the draft, it went something like this:
Today would have been a bad day if I did not know what Myeloma was and I didn’t have it. As it happens, apart from some testy moments which made me sweat (for once not a flush), and tiredness, I think I enjoyed myself. Is it strange to think that? See you tomorrow. You’ll know it’s me, I’ll have bags under my eyes.
I am always being told that I need to take things easy and I do. My focus, my main focus is to get better (whatever He looks like). Today, for example, whilst my mind has been otherwise engaged, I still had to make concessions. I got into bed at 21:00hrs, shortly after taking my nighttime drugs, so that I can get up in the morning. That said, I have to get the balance right between getting myself better and living. The two are not mutual exclusive. I feel better when I am doing the latter. I’ve been going through this for long enough to nearly always know when to call something quits. So, people, do not panic. I suppose, one could argue that it is wrong for one thing to occupy my thoughts at anytime, but, I’m learning slowly and every normal person gets a good four hours on me a day, so they can fill their minds with more things. And, really, don’t rain on my parade.
I know I am not in a long term, sustainable position, but it is the best I can do for now. Damn. It is not sustainable is it? Not beyond my treatment anyway… Well, I do need to see people and tidy my wardrobe and read a book and bake a cake and go to the cinema and some other stuff. So yes, it is not fair nor sustainable. But it is my now.
I suppose what I am trying to say is that today, I feel like I actually lived with cancer. Good and bad. Omnipresent as always, but not everything.
It didn’t make me sad today. Not once.
* Note to self and steroids, must not be ill next Wednesday night. I have a date with some Mormons. Actually, do Mormons feature in The Book of Mormon? Is it appropriate to keep saying Mormons? Political correction. Note to self, must not be ill next Wednesday night. I have a date with some contemporary musical theatre.