Post-Cancer Comeback

Thanks! My calves have been sore since then ... I have done some walking each day to keep moving, no running. Too sore and tight. I'm almost limping.

I am from South Africa, if you were closer I would go buy a foam roller drive to you and force you to use it! ?

BrokenLungs wrote:

I am from South Africa, if you were closer I would go buy a foam roller drive to you and force you to use it! ?

I recently got a foam roller, but you're right -- I need to be more consistent with it. I've been getting a little discouraged lately and slacking off on stuff.

Training update:

Knees have still been quite sore. Been doing occasional easy runs. A few days ago, I did a slow 30 minute easy run at 9-min pace. That's my longest run post-cancer!

So I have had some progress along with these setbacks. With the multiple days off, my knees are significantly better. Right knee seems about back to normal, and left knee is just a little sore & slightly swollen. I have an old meniscus injury there, so maybe that's related. Dr appt next week.

In the past few days, I did one easy 2 mi run at 9-min pace, and on another day I did 1 mile plus strides & drills. Been taking 1-2 days off between.

I'd like to get back to a more consistent effort soon. I got discouraged for several weeks bc on top of the usual body pain, feeling exhausted, constant phantom screaming in my ears, and burning sensation in my feet, I was overly exhausted & run down with additional pain everywhere and swollen knees. Plus drenched with sweat every night for a week or two (since cancer, this happens whenever I get run-down) and just feeling crappy in general.

But I'm starting to feel like I could get back to it.

Stay on it.

I went to the doctor the other day, the first time I've seen a general practice dr since cancer (it's been all oncologists and their associates). I'm pretty disappointed with the appt tbh. The doc said that all of my "symptoms" are because I'm "depressed", other than the constant tinnitus and the neuropathy in my feet.

Riiight ... so being dizzy and disoriented is now a symptom of depression. I must have fallen on that trail this summer and broken my hand due to depression.

I started to describe the long-term cognitive challenges that I have been experiencing. The dr cut me off and said that due to the blood-brain barrier, chemotherapy can't affect the brain so none of this is due to the multiple heavy-duty chemo treatments that I received. He didn't want to hear about my actual (unusual & extreme) cancer case, or the treatment, or its impact. Just rushed me out of there with a referral to psych.

Not saying I'm absolutely not depressed, but wtf, I'd like to at least try to work on the actual problems that could be contributing to potential depression.

How has this guy not heard of "chemo brain"?? And let's say it wasn't chemotherapy; let’s say I had been severely poisoned for 2 years with heavy metals and mandrake plant extract? There would be no long-term bodily damage, including organ functions, cognition, stamina, immune system, etc? Eff, man.

Screw it. I'm gonna go for a jog and do some drills & strides in the sunshine. Right now.

I hear you. Post-chemo I am not the same person physically. All I can do is be the healthiest I can be.

1 mi easy @ 8-9 min pace, 5 x 50m drills, 3 x 50m strides. Every step was painful but idc.

I feel 100x better.

Got up today, dizzy and disoriented. Crashed into a wall and fell back onto the bed. Took the morning very slowly. Feeling a little better but still shaky and fuzzy.

Gonna run a mile today anyway. Cuz this dizziness etc is happening regardless, and I don't think running a mile makes it worse.

Running and Life, or, Running versus Death

Sub-8 Mile's Battle-o-Rama

(maybe this story will, in some way, help someone you know; if so, that's cool. oh, and F Cancer.)

Chapter 23

mid November 2016

My bones have been aching for days. I’ve been given many shots of something that makes my marrow over-produce stem cells and white blood cells. The pain of the bursting bones hurts from deep places that I did not know before.

I’m at the Extreme Treatment Place, in the OR, with a screen blocking my face so that they can perform this procedure without me flinching. They numb up my chest, jab two holes into my skin, and jam some 9-inch-long Y-shaped rubber tube down into a large blood vessel. It’s not small & tidy like a “chemo port”, but similar; it’s both for removing large quantities of blood and for dumping stuff into me.

The local anesthetic works. This doesn’t hurt. Feels like an odd amount of pressure though. There is some major tugging as they yank the thing through the holes they tore in me and shove it down into the large vein. The sound of meat being punctured isn’t so great.

*****

I’m propped up in a hospital bed, in a large lab room. Stretching from my chest are two long, clear, red-filled tubes, extending several feet behind me into a machine with a centrifuge for separating the stem cells out of my blood. It’s midday; I’ve been sitting here for 4 hours with blood being pumped out of me, into this machine, and back into me. Four more hours to go.

One of the Extreme Treatment doctors stops by to see how I’m doing. He explains that, by the end of the day, all of my blood will have cycled out and back into my body seven times.

I finish the day. They tell me we’re doing it again tomorrow.

*****

I meet with the Extreme Treatment Head Doctor and the Extreme Treatment Head Nurse. They’re done harvesting my stem cells; finished yesterday. They seem pleased with the quantity produced.

In two days, their team will begin pouring powerful poisons down the rubber tube. Cells will be destroyed in my brain, liver, lungs, spleen, stomach, skin, tongue, esophagus, intestines, kidneys, bladder, blood vessels, genitals, muscles, nerves, bones, cartilage, tendons, ligaments, blood … and cancer. My bone marrow will be permanently killed.

If I survive this round of treatment, my body would be left unable to produce new blood cells and I would die as the remaining cells in my blood naturally expire. To solve this, after the high-dose chemotherapy has done its destructive work and exited my system, the medical team will pour half of my just-harvested stem cells back into me; the stem cells “should” find their way into my bones and they “should” jump-start my marrow in time to save my life.

It’s not very comforting. But I’m past the need for comfort. I’m barely here at all.

The Extreme Treatment Head Nurse tells me that this is the most cancer they have seen in their 30+ years of treating extreme cases from all over the world.

The Extreme Treatment Head Doctor states that the Extreme Treatment will be what they believe to be the “maximum tolerable dosage.” Starting in two days.

Today, I have the day off. They suggest that I go out and get some fresh air. After all, it’s been 3 weeks since I finished the last round of salvage chemo and I am now able to walk around for short distances, mostly free of the wheelchair.

*****

I don’t know this unfamiliar city. But I know what I’m looking for: a river or a canal. Eventually I find it; sure enough, there’s a flat trail.

The crisp late fall air feels good on this warm afternoon. I inhale deeply. Sunshine bathes me as I sort of hear the distorted and distant sound of crunching leaves. My disembodied being and my physical body, loosely tethered together, move down the path in unison. Partially existing in this world and partially in another, I look about at my blurred surroundings. It’s a lovely day to be however alive I am.

I’m wearing cargo pants that are now loose and baggy, two or three sizes too big. A belt bunches them around my shrunken waist. A jacket and a knit cap keep me from getting cold (I’m down to skin & bones and I don’t retain heat).

I start walking, cautiously. I’m weak and wobbly; I could fall down any time. My conscious self floats above while my physical body teeters below, precariously balancing on weak legs.

It occurs to me that this could be my last time on a trail. I recall the risk of going blind and/or deaf … possibly, this could be the last time that I see or hear a trail that I’m on.

The urge is spontaneous and compelling. I break into a slow trot. I am running! Careful, controlled strides carry my physical body, as the apparition of my essence moves along with my body down the trail like a balloon on a string. Euphoria floods over me.

This is my shout to the universe, my solitary act of defiance. I am, therefore I run.

Two hundred meters down the trail, I turn and head back. Slowly, steadily, hardly jogging, like a sprinter on a cooldown lap.

Hundreds of tumors in my lungs, innumerable tumors in my liver and abdomen, I pick it up to 9 minute pace. F cancer.

I could go faster, but I don’t have to prove it. It’s enough just to feel it, to know that I can.

It’s MF-ing glorious, my middle finger to it all. I may not be here tomorrow, but goddammit, I am here right now. For time eternal, the universe cannot deny that I was here, that I existed. I run, therefore I am.

I’m ready.

Doctor sounds like a total ass. Can you change doctors?

Great writing sub-8. How has the last week treated you?

CCB wrote:

Doctor sounds like a total ass. Can you change doctors?

Yeah, I am not going back to that doctor. I had a whole list of things that I had written down over a couple of weeks (because I can't count on my brain to remember everything at once) but I did not have the opportunity to convey the info. I'd like to find a physician who will work with me based on the complete picture.

imagebearer wrote:

Great writing sub-8. How has the last week treated you?

Thanks - I've been ok. Past few weeks have had a good amount of dizziness and disorientation and I have felt too beat-up to run much. But I am determined to get back on the horse. I admit that I've gotten a little discouraged and I have to shake it off.

Just got out and ran 1 mile (approx) around grass athletic fields. Hard effort, but not all-out TT race effort. More like "fitness test" effort like you would do in gym class.

7:47

Splits (approx) 1:52 / 3:50 / 5:49 / 7:47

Could be a few meters long or short, and the field goes up & down as you run around on a very slight grade so it's not perfectly level. Regardless, this was a very good run for me.

Gonna keep it consistent this week. Will report back in a week, so I’m accountable.

That’s awesome ? Sub 8 it is!

Good job, on your tale as well.

This past week's training log:

Mon 28 Dec - Paved road, rolling hills. 8 x (3’ jog, 1’ walk) covering approx 500m per jog. Approx 4K or 2 1/2 mi total. After halfway through the session, the pavement hurt, every step, in my knees.

Tue 29 Dec - Grass athletic fields. 1 1/2 mi @ 13:19. Much more comfortable to run on this surface.

Wed 30 Dec - off, tired from the last 2 days and the "hard" mile on Sunday.

Thu 31 Dec - Grass field with small rise. 1 mi 9:42, 5 x 50m drills, 3 x 50m strides.

Fri 1 Jan - off, mildly tired & sore.

Sat 2 Jan - Grass field with small rise. 1 mi 9:08, 5 x 50m drills, 3 x 50m strides.

Sun 3 Jan - off

Total weekly mileage: 6.5

This is the most I have run in a couple of months. I intend to keep it consistent. This time, I'll be more careful to avoid overdoing it -- this past summer/fall I was surprised to learn how little it takes to wear me down. Lesson learned.

Thanks for sharing your story sub 8... I have someone close to me who is battling a different cancer. I am one of her caregivers and it wears me out emotionally sometimes just to talk her down off the cliff. To have conversations with her about ending treatment and going into hospice. All I can do is listen and make sure she knows that it's her decision to make.

It is just nice to hear the thoughts and feelings of the other side of the conversation. Thanks for sharing them.