Don't sweat the small stuff.

Two years ago, to the day, I was on a lad's holiday in Albufeira. The sun was shining, the beer was flowing and APML was an acronym I was blissfully unaware of.

To be fair, the sun is shining today as I tap away on my keyboard with the kitchen door open.  So much has changed since then. 

I had one of my regular bone marrow biopsies this morning. Having your pelvis drilled is every bit as fun as it sounds.

While chatting to the chemo nurse we got onto the subject of my Mum. She said how pleased she would be that I'm coming out of the other side of my cancer battle. I'm not afraid to say it made me tearful and she gave me a big hug. 

I went round to my mate's after for a brew and a natter. We talked about life and the importance of not putting things off, because things can change so quickly. We both came to the conclusion that more holidays are required!

On Saturday I managed my first run for a little while. I'll gradually get back into it. 

My Daughter had a martial arts class on Sunday. It was her first session since my diagnosis and she was apprehensive, so we just sat and watched and said "hello" to everyone. You can't help but feel welcome in that place and by the end of the session she was saying that she wanted to come back and bring a picture for Sensei.

We had a BBQ in the afternoon with my Partner and her Daughter. I was bullied by the girls who decided to gang up on me. As I lay there being beaten up and shot at with Nerf guns, I realised that I'm heavily outnumbered. Chase the Yorkshire Terrier/Chihuahua cross provided little in the way of back up. Useless.

It was Sports Day yesterday. My little girl said she was nervous about it in the morning as she "wasn't going to win." I reassured her that it doesn't matter if you come in first or last place, it just matters that you try. By the time the sack race came round, she was a picture of relaxation on the start line. She was dancing around with her friend and almost missed the start! In spite of that, she came 2nd and was very happy. I felt very proud watching her and was thrilled that I could be there.

This quote may have come from an alcoholic who achieved no notable success until his late 40s, but it's a timely reminder from the prolific writer that we should all be a bit kinder to each other and not to sweat the small stuff:

"We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorised and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing."

- Charles Bukowski

The end is in sight.

Just a short post today. I now have a date for my final round of chemotherapy, the end is in sight!

The Doctor told me this morning that my blood counts have improved significantly. I am coming out of Neutropenia and starting to feel relatively normal again. I've even started thinking about when I might go back to work.

Booking in my final dose of the medicine that is simultaneously saving my life and kicking my arse felt bitter sweet. I wanted to report the good news to my Mum as I was leaving the hospital. I'm sure she knows, somehow.

The Doctor also re-iterated that my chances of making a full and complete recovery are very high. Fuck you Cyril!

I had a productive couple of days leading up to the today's appointment. Although I've not been able to exercise much lately - which has been driving me mad - I've got lots of life admin sorted and found ways to stay busy. 

I've had quite a few donations on my Just Giving page already, which is great. I'm looking forward to getting back into running and completing the half marathon in September. It occurred to me the other day that so many people are driven to fund raise for others when they are fighting their own battles. Maybe it's a way for us to find some positivity and give meaning to the suffering. 

Also, my hair is growing back!

Thinking ahead.

I was recently reading about Francesco Acerbi, the veteran defender who scored Inter's winning goal in the epic Champions League semi- final win over Barcelona. 

Acerbi battled alcoholism after the death of his Father. If that wasn't enough to deal with, he saw off testicular cancer twice. He is quoted as saying: "Without cancer I would have retired at 28... but with cancer my real life began, giving me a second chance."

What an incredible way to turn such potentially life shattering events into a catalyst for good. I'll have some of that please. 

Anyway, I'd not been feeling great lately, as I've alluded to. Experience has taught me there will be bumps in the road during my recovery. My blood tests today showed an improvement from last week and it directly correlates with me starting to feel a bit better. 

I had a lazy weekend and on Sunday, inspired by my Partner's positivity, I entered the Forest of Dean Half Marathon. I reckon I've got a few weeks to fully get over this round and then I can start training properly. The final round of chemo is only a day and I'm hoping it won't cause me any issues. I've no intention of "smashing a PB." Just to finish will be an achievement.

I'm running for two great causes: Cancer Research (which needs no introduction) and the Reorg Charity. Reorg creates safe environments through functional fitness and jiu-jitsu for veterans, military and emergency services personnel to support their physical and mental wellbeing. Both charities have helped me immeasurably and it's my way of paying them back in some small way.

You can support these great causes here:

https://www.justgiving.com/team/joe-davey

We've also set about booking holidays to give us plenty to look forward to when my treatment is done. It gives you a massive psychological boost to get a holiday or two in the diary, especially when you're feeling rubbish.

Tragic optimism.

I've taken a bit of a step back this week. My latest Neutrophil count was 0.4, meaning my body is severely compromised in its ability to fight off infections. My platelets are dangerously low and I've had to come in for a transfusion. 

I now know why I've felt shit recently and it's time to rest and recover. I think it's the delayed effects of the new drug Mitoxantrone. Sometimes you have to take a step back to keep moving forward.

As a naturally active and busy person, I've always found it hard to sit still for long periods of time. It's reassuring, in a way, to know that I've still got that "get up and go," but I need to play the long game and I can't rush my recovery. Coupled with the grieving process, it all adds up to another challenging time.

I've kept myself busy with admin, sorting out my Mum's Estate. When we lost my Dad it brought me and my Mum even closer and it helped me, at the time, to keep busy and get everything sorted for her. They were old school. My Mum looked after the kids and the house. My Dad went to work and sorted out all the bills. They were each reliant on the other for different things. When my Mum was feeling helpless, without my Dad, I'd remind her that he'd have felt the same without her. 

We got everything sorted, eventually. I still have that sense of service to my Mum and we'll get there this time, too. Above all, I'll find a way to keep going and be happy. She commanded it. 

I've become a big advocate of 'tragic optimism,' the ability to find hope and meaning in life despite experiencing pain, loss and suffering. Hardship is part of the human experience. It's unrealistic to dismiss it and deny negative emotions. Tragic optimism emphasises the potential for growth and resilience in the face of adversity.

Abraham Lincoln lost his Mother, aged 9. Later, the love of his life, Ann Rutledge, died suddenly. He was broken by it. Friends removed sharp objects from his home. He suffered from depression. But he didn't run from his feelings. He faced them. Lincoln journaled about death and meaning. He studied philosophy, poetry and scripture. He learned to hold grief in one hand and purpose in the other. He found a way to serve through the pain, not around it.

Viktor Frankl found meaning in the unimaginable suffering at Auschwitz. Both these great men found the ability to maintain hope and find meaning, not in spite of life's tragedies - but because of them. They weren't strong because they avoided the dark, they were strong because they integrated it. That's what real resilience looks like.

Tragic optimism isn't easy. It doesn't ask you to pretend everything is fine. It asks you to keep going - because everything isn't.

 

Peace.

I've been home almost a week now. My latest blood test results were good and the side effects from Round 3 have been relatively tame. 

I managed a 2.5 mile jog on Friday and a 6.5 mile hike yesterday. With only one round of chemotherapy left to go, it's my intention to keep pushing on with my fitness and upping the ante.

Weather wise, I couldn't have picked a better week to escape the clutches of the Haematology Ward. Late April brought record temperatures and I made the most of it, spending quality time outside with my loved ones.

It occurred to me on Wednesday that it would be easy to focus on what's gone wrong this year. My illness cost me time with loved ones, a career opportunity, my health and fitness. Then I lost my Mum. But I always try and find the positives and it's better to think about what's gone right and the limitless opportunities that are still available to me. I'm coming out of the other side of this battle with APML, it's brought me and my partner closer together, I appreciate my friends and family more. And my Mum is still with me. I want my experiences this year to be the catalyst to live a more simple, rewarding and present life.

Thursday marked a week since my Mum passed away. I felt strangely at peace. I am not a religious or spiritual person, but my Brother told me - in Islamic tradition - the soul's journey is 7 days. In that sense her transition was complete and I wondered if that's why I felt more at ease.

I'd been sat in the sun reading Born to Run and taking inspiration from the lifestyle of the Raramuri, an indigenous Mexican tribe known for their extraordinary long-distance running capabilities. They live long, healthy lives and reportedly suffer from virtually none of the ailments and afflictions we have in Western Society. I want to do everything I can to be healthy and reduce my chances of seeing Cyril's ugly mug again. A few diet and lifestyle changes are on the cards, nothing too drastic.

I've also spoken about how much I value running for the benefits it has on my mental health. I often talk to my Dad - and now my Mum - on my longer runs when I'm out among nature. The Hopi tribe consider running a form of prayer. They offer every step as a sacrifice to a loved one and, in return, they ask the Great Spirit to match their strength with some of his own. Perhaps I'll do the same, I could do with some extra strength!

On Friday we had glorious sunshine and it was 27 degrees. My Daughter had fun in the garden, playing in the paddling pool and soaking me with a water pistol. We went for a short walk in the evening as the sun went down.

Yesterday I hiked "Dragon's Back" in the Peaks with my partner and her dog. It was hard work but the views were incredible. Weirdly, something had got into the animals. We were chased by a cow, angry sheep stamped their feet and threatened to charge at us. I'm not sure what we'd done to offend them but, after surviving the crazed livestock and high winds on high peaks, I managed to injure myself folding up a sofa bed.