Four years ago, I had a bone marrow transplant to combat the recurrence of acute myeloid leukemia. At every check-up since, I‘ve been told that I am doing remarkably well. I am insanely grateful for the many who spent their lives researching and innovating effective treatments. And for the doctors, nurses, facility managers, caretakers, custodians and oodles of others who helped me — directly or indirectly.
Even though I recovered from cancer, not everything is now normal. But who wants to be normal?
All the important things are normal. By that I mean, my complete blood count (CBC) tests show all indicators are “within normal range.” I do have high triglycerides and low protein, but that is a result of my lackadaisical response to nutrition and exercise challenges. (I must get off my butt and go biking, and then snack on chicken breast and broccoli.)
But CBCs and urine tests don’t rate your hair growth or your mental health.
All the chemo that I received over the years affected my bones, teeth, nails and hair. And attitude.
Four years after the transplant, I now wake up daily to see my baby orangutan hair in the mirror. Bald spots are adjacent to unruly sprouts of very fine hair. I tried shampoo with keratin for years with no change to the density or volume. I frequently trim my patches by just grabbing a chunk and scissoring. No rhyme or reason for the hacking. God invented baseball caps and wigs.
I can live with this.
My nails are more fragile than before cancer, and sometimes the nail doesn’t fully connect to the nailbed. I am told to fully dry my hands after washing, keep my hands clean and drink milk. There are also grooves in my nails — a common occurrence after chemo.
I can live with this.
My neck and back crack and crunch all day long. I had several bone density tests done and have been diagnosed with arthritis — certainly from aging but exacerbated by all the chemo. It’s getting worse every year. Sometimes it feels great to contort my head so that the joints pop, but I worry when I feel bone on bone. Still…
I can live with this.
I react differently now to mosquito bites. If I get a bite on my hand, a large portion of my hand will swell up for days. I used to try to get the venom out which would result in a discoloration of my skin. Now I just apply topical cortisone and wait. Eventually, it goes away.
I can live with this.
I don’t mind wearing a baseball cap on my errands and donning a wig during work. I don’t mind yoga to alleviate the arthritic pain. I don’t mind the cooling sensation of cortisone medicine.
I am happy. Before cancer, I went into a depression. After cancer, I decided to do something fun for work, instead of suffering through red-tape-heavy, intense, high-pressure days in the corporate world. I decided to stop the exhausting travel, 3 a.m. emails and constant peer conflict. Come see me in Tampa Nordstrom for some personal styling! For that, and for my life, I thank the chemo.
I do mind cancer. I will always stay connected with my healers and the patient and family community.
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