So – last week was a pretty momentous occasion. My 15 year anniversary since being diagnosed with myeloma, aged 39 in September 2008.
At the time, a miserable 2-3 year prediction of survival. Me hoping for maybe 5 years, given that I was so young and otherwise fit & healthy.
And yet somehow, thanks to new treatments coming through faster in myeloma than in many cancers, a vast dose of luck – and what my brother says is 'a lot of prayer' – here I still am.
Yes, tethered to Cancer Centre London by 4 doses of treatment within each 4 week period, but most definitely still here as a result of it all.
I tried to think of something suitable to mark the occasion with the team at CCL – and something that Prof said to me, way back in 2008 struck a chord.
As Hawksey & I sat there, numb as anything, listening to our worlds crashing down in utter disbelief, Prof tried to perk us up by talking about a patient of his who had survived 16 years after diagnosis. At that time, that was hugely unheard of and highly unlikely, so felt like he was dangling a carrot that was never, ever going. to happen.
So I thought 'what else is never going to happen?' and the idea of a unicorn came to mind. Hence getting a unicorn cake for him & Linda, and a pile of unicorn cupcakes for the nursing and front desk teams.
And importantly the 'right' cards with some words in them.
Ray's card '15 years of being an absolute legend' brought a lump to his throat, and he mumbled 'this is the sort of thing that makes it all worthwhile' as he read it.
Linda's card resonated more with me because it is all the time, the precious crucial time on this earth, that it represents. 5,475 days is obviously WAAAAAY better than about 600 days, many of which I would have been terribly ill for, if the average survival predictions had come to pass for me.
So – it surprised some of the newer staff at CCL who hadn't known I'd been coming there for so long. And was an apt way to mark something that is pretty miraculous. Now we are in an era where there are more treatments, more different approaches and just more options in general. I feel much much less scared now than I did way back then, when I had no idea if I would end up on the 'good path' (itself still pretty short) or the 'bad path', where some people – even those my age – were gone within the year.
It never takes away the worry about what the future will bring, and how many more precious months or years there may be ahead, but it's always much better to think about, when the medical 'bag of tricks' has a growing number of things in it.
A big thanks to everyone at CCL and to you all for being with me as the months and years have unfolded.
As my myeloma chum Tom Lappin would say 'onwards and upwards!"