Over the course of a year, at least the past 2 years, I talk about my story, or tell my story, fairly frequently. But it is usually pretty inconsistent, as things slow down greatly in the summer for example and then in the Fall they pick up considerably as I get back into the schools, which I am preparing to do this week.
Telling my story is something that I love to do, as I love to experience the impact of telling it has on an audience, and it is also good for me on so many levels. I am a firm believer in the value of expressing what’s inside, whether it’s joy or sadness, whatever you’re feeling, I feel it’s important to express yourself some how. And telling my story is one way I’m able to express myself, and I’m not sure I can explain the value that has for me, but it is significant. Much the same as writing about my experiences here to you all. Hopefully it is a “win-win” situation.
So yesterday I was speaking to a group of people who work for Xwave, a company that has been and continues to be very supportive of RealTime Cancer, and it was the first time I had told my story in that setting in quite a while, and it has got me thinking and remembering that I’m a Miracle! That’s not something I forget, or need reminding of as it crosses my mind lots, but for some reason recounting some of my experiences of the past 4 years yesterday, it has hit me this morning, and I thought it would be important to remind you all of that.
It was on this day a year ago that I was being pushed to the “point of no return” as one of my Transplant Docs called it, simply I was having my ass kicked by high dose chemo to clean out my bone marrow in preparation for my Dad’s stem cells, which I received on October 10th last year. It’s not something I fully appreciated until recently for some reason, but I was one sick puppy this time last year, really sick. I have this theory that looks at my body with a given level of tolerance, tolerance for getting my ass kicked, and I can look back on my life and see how I have pushed my limits and how my body was able to hold up, quite well I would say. I remember the chemotherapy from my first Cancer Challenge and I was damn sick but I handled it very well, then I look at the chemo I had last year in the summer and before Transplant and it is very obvious to me that my body’s ability to tolerate that kind of a beating has been significantly reduced. I have discussed with my Doc that chemo is cumulative, and while my hair may grow back (although I take it off every morning) and I may begin to look well on the outside again, there is still some serious damage done that we can’t see every day.
I think my theory about our body’s tolerance holds, simply the more we push it, and I mean push it on the unhealthy level not when we are exercising or something, but the more we push our body, whether it’s with drugs like chemo, alcohol, etc, a terrible diet, no exercise, whatever, the more we neglect our body and treat it poorly the less tolerant it becomes, we become less able to push in the first place. I know that is how I physically feel these days, as my energy is very Challenged and I don’t have the physical energy I once did.
A little over a year ago I was struggling with the decision of whether to have a second Transplant or not, and one of the major concerns was the toxic nature of the process, and the fact that roughly 20% of Patient’s don’t make it through the first 100 days. Telling my story yesterday brought back a few of the many many reminders that at a whole bunch of times in my life things very easily could have gone another way, but they didn’t, I don’t know all the reasons why and because I don’t know I call it a Miracle.
Always…
Live Life. Love Life.
Geoff
