No Desire To Revel…. But
- Mark Pajak
- 2 hours ago
- 4 min read
In August, I had a blood draw. I am on an every-other-month schedule for blood work and so the first week in August saw me getting poked and then waiting for my numbers. Waiting. Sometimes waiting can invoke anxiety and intense emotions regarding a blood review.
First thing first - most importantly (at least to me) is that the blood numbers remained steady. No changes or maybe little change in what was revealed and so we will continue traveling on the current path. It is/was a big relief.
I cannot begin to do justice when trying to describe the wonderful sensation that passes over me when receiving a blood report summary that results in no change. At this stage in my journey, every day that I can avoid chemo, hospital visits, an oncologist’s conference, an infusion, or any other necessary procedure as determined by my doctor puts me in a good mood. I reveled in the moment.
In looking up the definition of the word “revel” or “reveling” the dictionary’s description sited this: “acts/actions of merriment; of drinking and dancing in response to ….” Hmm, maybe I did not revel in the moment. Relieved and grateful almost beyond belief - yes. Drinking and dancing… well I must find a better descriptor.
It has always been known that chemo sessions and infusions, hospitals and clinics to facilitate all the necessary procedures and transplants that have kept me moving forward, have been the nuts and bolts of survival. I am acutely aware that without the medical expertise, advice, and recommendations; without all of the intelligence and structure that goes into cancer treatments I would not be sitting here writing about the experiences that have/that are occurring as I travel on this MM journey. It is understood how lucky I have been. There are few guarantees in cancer treatment.
It is also pleasing to know that for the next month and a half it will be easier to not to think about having MM as much as I WOULD be thinking about MM if I was sitting with an IV stuck into my arm receiving some chemo or whatever meds the oncologist decided to recommend as a new course of action because the blood numbers indicated a need for change.
Every single day since the CAR T cell procedure (December 2023) that does not involve some form of cancer treatment or disease maintenance therapy (their words not mine) is glorious. And yes, understanding the fleeting nature of good health and the inevitable adjustments that will take place when living with MM is always present.
I got the most important or the most telling number about my MM (monoclonal peak info) condition on Thursday afternoon at around 2:00 pm. Prior to the news, I was very surly (oh, I wish I could be better) and pre-occupied with the what ifs, the possible what’s next, and the uncertain “how’s this going to work” scenarios the mind creates when living with and managing an incurable disease. The anxiety when waiting for blood numbers makes staying in the now an arduous task. However, by 2:30 pm (30 minutes later) my outlook and demeanor had changed.
Thursday evening, I did not want to go to sleep. It was not that I wanted to stay up all night as much as I did not want to go to sleep. There was calmness and contentment that was wanting to be enjoyed. I now know for sure that I did not “revel.” However, I ate a big peach muffin with chocolate milk at about 1:00 am because, well…. I like peach muffins and we had them in the house and I was hungry and besides, I am not a particularly good dancer. But boy did that peach muffin taste great.
After the muffin with chocolate milk, I wen,t outside and sat on our patio and took in the darkness and quiet (which I now know is much more my style than reveling). It was great.
This morning, when jotting down these thoughts, it was embarrassing to realize that I had been missing or at least forgetting a critical bit of wisdom.
The peach muffins were in the house already. Chocolate milk is usually/always in our refrigerator. The dark and quiet of the night is available most, if not every, evening/early morning.
Sometimes the MM condition becomes all-consuming. What is forgotten is that which is available each day regardless of any blood numbers. A negative, myopic outlook about cancer/MM and life in general sets in, diminishing the ability to get out of my own way. Forgotten is that there is much available to enjoy.
There are a host of emotions that can accompany anyone on their cancer journey. This month, it was remembered that there is room for enjoyment.
Oh brother, there is just so much to learn.
Song of the Month
Brian Regan Stand-Up
This month a little different take. Instead of a song here is a short take from a Brian Regan stand-up routine. Its purpose is to make you laugh or at least smile.
He is great (or so I believe). The most difficult task this month was trying to figure out what video to post. To me they were all great.
Enjoy.
Comments