XXI: Hope for “Normal”
In the days following my diagnosis of recurrent Hodgkin Lymphoma last June, my thoughts slowly shifted from the initial “Am I going to die?” response to a different question — “Will things ever be normal again?”
Naturally, I was still worried about the immediate threat of both cancer and stem cell transplant. But what really led my thoughts to dark places was the concern that perhaps even if I made it through my daunting course of treatment I’d emerge unable to do many of the things I loved — hiking, jogging, playing basketball, etc. The thought of being left permanently disabled in some ways scared me more than death.
I sought out accounts of those who had gone through the processes and emerged intact. From asking my oncologist about past patients to reading blog posts and the lymphoma subreddit, I clung on to any anecdotes that kindled hope. I pushed myself to stay active, continuing to hike and jog during salvage chemotherapy on the weeks I felt better. But ultimately I still went into stem cell transplant very unsure of how I would emerge.
Today, six months and a day from my stem cell transplant, I ran six miles at under 9:00 pace. This past weekend I hiked over 12 miles combined in the North Carolina mountains.
I’m not saying these things to brag — okay maybe I am a little — but mostly I want anyone else out there either facing or going through stem cell transplant to know that its possible to make it through all of this in one piece. A normal life is possible on the other end of autologous stem cell transplantation.
I certainly have had some advantages. Outside of the whole cancer thing I was exercising regularly and in good shape going into all of this. I have access to healthy food and the means to afford it. I have safe places to go jog. I realize this isn’t the case for everyone.
The first few months were the hardest. Stem cell transplant sapped me of my endurance and strength to the point that a slow one mile walk in the neighborhood would leave me exhausted in the first few weeks after I returned from the hospital. Slowly the walks got longer and longer. I started jogging. Half mile runs on the treadmill slowly became mile runs on the treadmill and then two mile runs outdoors.
At some point I set a goal to be able to run an equal distance to my number of months out from transplant. I don’t know if I’ll keep that trend going after celebrating the half birthday of my transplant with a six mile run, but at this point I’m confident I’ll be able to build back to my old running endurance, though perhaps at a slightly slower pace. Perhaps I’ll even give in and run the Star Wars Half Marathon at Walt Disney World whenever large races are safe again.
Speaking of coronavirus, this whole pandemic threw a wrench in my exercise routine — first world problems, I know. The apartment gym is closed, as is one of my favorite running spots, Saunders-Monticello Trail. I miss being able to get on the exercise bike as a change of pace, but I’ve made due with in apartment workouts whether it be Sterling K Brown’s pyramid workout or one of the various offerings of the Beach Body on Demand service to which my fiancee subscribes.
I haven’t followed any strict diet, but have generally tried to buy organic when possible, be more diligent about eating green vegetables, and limit processed foods. Combined with the realities of this pandemic it’s been a nice opportunity for Brooke and I to improve our cooking skills. I’m still largely avoiding alcohol but will indulge in about one beer a week — usually on Sunday nights while watching The Last Dance. Speaking of there’s nothing like Michael Jordan talking about his work ethic to keep me motivated.
I’ve also been lucky. I was fortunate not to have a severe side effect from high dose chemotherapy or contract a serious infection when I was immunocompromised. I was lucky that I was able to get an autologous transplant and thus don’t have to deal with the potential of Graft vs Host disease. The specter of COVID still lingers, but from what little evidence I’ve seen regarding the pandemic and stem cell transplant patients, now that I’ve hit 6 months my risk of severe disease is similar to that of the general population.
The recovery process isn’t over. I’ll continue building my strength and endurance. I still need to get my chest port removed (hopefully in the next couple months if everything looks good on my PET scan in July). I’ll continue to have to battle the occasional anxiety of another relapse. The lingering neuropathy in my fingers and nose will hopefully resolve. Oh and the entire world will have to navigate our way through this pandemic, hopefully as responsibly as possible.
But suddenly “normal” seems within reach rather than on the distant horizon. It’s possible for me, and if you’re facing or going through stem cell transplant its possible for you as well.
