I should have hit the ‘post’ button yesterday for this post to have had a more dramatic impact. Unfortunately, I really did fight with fatigue.
One year ago, I was struggling to manage the side effects of chemotherapy in 30 degree heat. Today, I am struggling to manage the side effects of chemotherapy in 30 degree heat. Sweat, it would appear, is my constant companion. One year ago, I was in the Macmillan Cancer Centre on Huntley Street, where I also happen to find myself today. The difference between the 17 July this year and the 17 July last year, is that last year, I had a stem cell transplant.
The difference between then and now, my friends, could have been so much more. Two months ago, it was.
Events of the last month have made any celebration of the date worthless, and even the acknowledgement of the date seems futile. Sure, I got a few good months and a holiday from it, but I did not get enough. Realistically, I am not sure if I would have ever been happy with the inevitable relapse, but I would have liked very much to have celebrated today. To me, unless I was going to go down the path of self pity, which I do not feel like doing, the only point of worth now is recognising that Tottenham Court Road remains as equally vile in this heat as it did in 2013.
Today could have been something special, something worthy of cake and balloons and a bottle of half price prosecco. It is not though. Instead, today just happens to be a day where I have a clinic appointment, will fight my fatigue before socialising for 3 hours before the fatigue sets in again and I need my bed, all accompanied by a particularly bad twinge in my back because I decided to pick up the bath mat this morning. Today then, is just another day.
No parties. No celebration. Just myeloma.