Monday 12th January, 845am
Siting out of bed, hoping that we'll be driving home later today.
we had lunch with friends down in Blackman's Bay yesterday - their house was on a ridge overlooking the broad expanse of water, and the experience of being able to sit in a sunny dining room overlooking the Derwent River was wonderful. The vastness of the sky and the blue water made me feel like my soul was expanding, as did the joy of eating simple, home-cooked food and finishing up with some indulgent triple-cream brie. It was the first time I've felt full after a meal in recent weeks - the steroids aren't making me ravenously hungry like they did in 2013, but I felt nurtured and well.
I had a good sleep when I returned, and slept mostly well last night. I could probably sleep a little more now, but I haven't used up the internet access that I purchased, and I don't want to waste it.
Yesterday gave me a wonderful epiphany: I realised that I was blessed to inherit or acquire a strong sense of optimism from my father, or extended family, and that this tendency to be able to look forward to pleasant events and opportunities in the future has been a wonderful resource for me over the past few years. Yesterday's visual and gastronomic pleasures made me aware of the hedonistic basis of much of my optimism, and I was reminded of many times when enjoying food and company were intrinsic to the sense of pleasure we had as a little family unit. Dad always seemed to be taking us to aunts, uncles, and cousins who had well-stocked larders and kitchens filled with fresh fruits, jams, and biscuits, which made visiting these loving and indulgent people a wonderful and delicious adventure nearly every time. My epiphany yesterday made me realise how growing up in that environment made me feel so cherished and optimistic that there would always be good things around the corner for us.
I'm a little cross that I've gone and grown a new brain tumour, but I hope that this is just a hiccup in my recovery, and that I'll recover well after this one. I'm determined to stay fit and active this time, and hope that my recuperation will be better with the benefit of the lessons learned from the first two tumours.
I want to write a lot this time, but I need to sleep now, before Ben and the boys come to take me away from this place. I would like to be mostly awake on the trip home.
More words from me when I'm home again.
A blog started in 2013 to inform family and friends about my treatment and progress for early breast cancer. Then I went and got two brain tumours,,both GBMs, completely unrelated to the breast cancer, so the blog continues.
Background and overview
I learnt more about the health system from being an inpatient than I had in 20 years of working as a neuropsychologist. I was unexpectedly diagnosed with two brain tumours on 4/9/13. They turned out to be grade IV Gliomas (glioblastoma multiforme (GBM)). After removal of the right parietal and left occipital tumours, I received the standard treatment under the Stupp protocol (combined Temozolamide (TMZ) and conformal radiotherapy 5 days/week for 6 weeks), but the TMZ had to be ceased after 5 weeks because I had started to develop pancytopenia, where more than one of my blood counts had begun to drop. By Christmas 2013, I had become anaemic and needed a couple of blood transfusions. I ended up in hospital for 3 weeks of the 2014 new year after experiencing my first seizure (suggestive of a right temporal lobe focus) on 31/12/13). They were so worried about my bone marrow, they did a biopsy. Luckily, it was all clear of any nasty disorders. It had just been suppressed by the TMZ My blood counts slowly returned to normal with daily injections of GCSF, which stimulate bone marrow function, for several months. For 17 months I was doing better each day, without any physical impairments or major cognitive problems A third brain tumour was found in the right temporal lobe on 2/1/15, and removed 6/1/15, only to reappear on 17/2/15 after I started to feel vague symptoms at the end of 2014. I had my 4th round of brain surgery on 1/3/15, followed by stereotaxic radio surgery of a residual, inoperable, tumour, on 17/4/15. I've been feeling like my old self again since that highly precise form of radiotherapy, and it feels fabulous.
My way of coping.
I choose to live in hope that everything will work out for the best. I've learnt that even though things are sometimes unpleasant, life and love go on forever. I put my faith in the life force that created and unites us all in love, across all time, space, and dimensions. I refuse to succumb to fear, which is an invention of our imaginations. There are an infinite number of things to fear, both in this world an in our imaginations, and most of them never eventuate. I choose not to dwell on them, and to focus instead on counting my many blessings, current and past, and to have faith and hope that if I look after the present moment, the future will look after itself.
If you're reading, and haven't been in touch, please don't be shy, send me a brief private message using the contact form on the right. It's nice to know who's out there. Blogging can leave me feeling a little isolated at times (I used to have recurrent dreams of being out on a limb over a canyon, or of starting to strip off in a crowded waiting room). Your emails are appreciated, although I can't necessarily answer all of them.
