After the latest positive check up with my oncologist you’d think I would be able focus easier on life and in turn making decisions going forward easier. Instead for some reason my days have raced by and a strange sense of being lost in my thoughts has happened. I’ve had trouble coming up with blogging ideas, deciding on places I’d like to go and visit and even the simplest things like what I want to cook for dinner. It feels like a strange haze, a fog that just seems to linger and the sun won’t break the tree-line and burn it off to help give me a clearer picture of what the day will look like. Now I contribute this to what I think was a strange kind of flu that ran through the house and made everyone feel just exhausted, but really no other symptoms. I had planned a solo getaway and ended up instead of jumping in my vehicle at 5 a.m. I found myself back in bed until almost noon.
That paragraph was started almost a week ago and I’m feeling quite a bit more focused now, I’m still not sure what that was and anytime those feelings happen it leaves me thinking, “Well it could be the cancer just reminding me it’s still here and not going anywhere.” Lots of rest along with moderate activity I find has been a good recipe to combat that haze I find myself in. Still every time wondering what else I could have been doing instead of what I call laying around, a pet peeve of mine, but one I’m learning to live with and accept as my new reality, but I’m allowed not to be happy about it, right? Wasted time is my biggest fear, although through talking about it and working through it, along with the continued good news from the doctor I’m slowly progressing to that comfort point where although time is flying by I’m starting to manage my emotions a little better, bit by bit. Getting out of those funks with the help of a good book, stories of adventure, advice from those closest to me and yes prepping for that next trip into the wilderness now that the fog has seemingly burned off. Here I’m going to include a video I made that’s available on my YouTube channel under the same name, Cancer won’t run my Life. This is just something new I thought I’d try and a way to visually show you the peace that comes from a simple existence, a guy, his canoe and backpack. This won’t be the only type content that I’ll put on here, they’ll be much more as time goes on and a look into how I deal with my stage IV Neuroendocrine cancer diagnosis. You’re gonna have to cut me some slack on the videos while I learn how to improve them over time.
This is some of the best medicine you get, quiet, able to reflect, grounding, walking bare foot in the bush or on a isolated beach alone putting thoughts in order with absolutely zero distractions except the sheer beauty all around you, that not only inspires, but challenges you in ways that bring out that drive, will-power and determination to never quit. I often tell anyone who’s willing to listen I believe that this lifestyle has definitely been a very important part in not only my healing process, but with the positive results I’ve received in the last few months. Therefore when I miss a trip and have to cancel because of my health that anxiety that I’ve been able to control for the last while starts to creep back in.
When this happens I resort back to my tried and tested ways strap on the old running shoes that sometimes take a backseat during the summer and hit the asphalt to get that blood pumping. Being sure to also take that ten minutes of mindfulness and remembering that there are still many days and travel yet to come. I believe I was born with an adventurous spirit, one that longs to be outside taking in sights that we nowadays take for granted or can just google to look without having to put in the hard work. Even as I sit here a restlessness crashes over me, “Soon Steve I have to tell myself.” A wedding to go and then a round of treatment and off you go. Late fall is a great time to get away, less traffic (cars and people) no bugs and of course the fall colours. Wildlife encounters can be more frequent as well, with less noise the animals seem find their way into view.
Getting back to what I was talking about in the first paragraph here, don’t mean to be all over the place here, but with that sense of being in a fog… I sometimes wonder if a small feeling of guilty feeds to it. I find myself asking the question internally,” What am I doing right here, for markers to remain stable or return to normal, along with some tumour shrinkage?” So, I know the drug I’m on can “temporarily” shrink tumours, I am a realist at heart and understand one day that they will grow again, that’s something I’m fine with. I won’t make it easy, but it’s just the science. I just wish I knew exactly what happened so that I could spread the word and help all those others who are struggling in their battle with this relentless disease. How is my body able to do this, when so many others cannot? This is an answer I search to find and although I’m no doctor and not that religious, something in the I live has helped. Maybe it’s that living with no fear, or that search for adventure, the support from family and friends, the right amount of medicine and doctors who listen and give advice? A combination of all the above along with a drive and love for life, hobbies, a lifestyle that won’t let me just crawl into a shell. A passion for sharing my story, wanting to listen to others, help in any way I can and just be a better human than I was the day before.
Being a baby of 1973 means the big 50 (already wrote about it), but also everyone I grew up with and lived some of the most important years around are all hitting that milestone. I was lucky enough to attend a birthday party this past weekend with friends I haven’t seen in, get this, over thirty years!! Now that’s way too long, some told me they had followed along with the blog, very grateful, others had no idea and that’s what happens over time, we grow apart. Catching up over a few hours was great and to those of you who I promised to have coffee with or just visit, I will do that. Having casual conversations is being a lost art tragically and it’s something I refuse to do. I look forward to seeing everyone again. Anyone who follows along here, if you need someone to talk to just please reach out. We all need someone and having that someone can help the healing process, no matter the ailment. Thanks for following along, subscribe, like and or comment…and yes I’m contacting WordPress to figure why it’s so difficult to leave a comment. Cheers, Steve
Cancer Won't Run My Life 