Back From Tripping and Off To The Doctors For the Six Month Check Up

It’s always great to return home after an eight day trek into the backcountry to wake up the very next day to go sit with an oncologist and get your scan results, not! Yesterday was that day and after an exhausting drive home to get up the next day and dive right back into my new reality (well four years now) is always still an adjustment. While I’m out amongst the wilderness, using maps and a compass to guide me the rest of the world tends to fade away. The longer the trip the more immersed I become in just such a simple way to live, all my belongings placed neatly in a 110 litre backpack, a fishing pole, paddles, safety gear and all carried in my 15 foot canoe. It’s true when you’re told it takes at least three good days to get really comfortable in that environment and the longer I’m out the easier life seems to be, even a long portage. The routine of setting up a camp and taking it down becomes automatic and every sense seems to come more alive, except maybe fading eyesight. Simple pains become part of life it reminds me I’m still here and to embrace that pain, as one day I will come to miss that type of pain.

The thought of cancer typically moves from the front of mind and almost becomes a distant memory as I check my maps and survey the landscape around me. I’m in a different frame of mind as the shoreline passes by and the scenery changes from boulders and high peaks to sandy and inviting inlets, it’s no wonder the stress and anxiety almost disappears out here where we are meant to be. No distractions from everyday life, no thoughts no scans, bloodwork, progression or treatment dare enter my thoughts as I glide across a lake that almost looks like glass. This trip is a little different as I take my time no place to be, no destination in mind, I catch a glimpse of a towering point, camp is made on an island the viewpoint just short paddle away tomorrow I will climb and hopefully find my way to the top.

Morning breaks, today I’m slower to rise I heat up the regular breakfast of oatmeal and coffee. The sun is high and wind has given me a break I grab my canoe and make my way to the opposite shore where I find an orange ribbon to mark a trail. The walk starts in the dense bush, but soon opens to wide rock faces and I scramble up switch backs watching for markers. After a half an hour a flat viewing area with a large rock Carin marks where I’ve been searching. So high up I can see where I’ve come from and also where headed, slight breeze helps cool me down as a bright sun beats down, no clouds for cover. What a sight as I take mental pictures, also taking ten to be mindful at such a beautiful setting. With a clear mind now I start to descend losing the trail I refer to my compass and head in the general direction. After a fifteen minute bushwhack my eyes spot open water and scanning the banks I spy my white canoe just around the corner. What a great way to start the day, prefect for a clear mindset as I push off from shore today is a good day, happy and thankful in the middle of that open water I look up where I came from, I’m just fortunate to be here and now living in a quiet moment that’s only for me.

The Latest Cat Scan Results

Just a few thoughts from my last trip before I had to return home and once again do see my doctor and a different one this time, more on that another time. After a long drive home from camping it’s always fantastic to wake the next day and have another hour and a half drive to go get results. Sometimes these appointments are only about ten minutes as well, but whatta do? Once again parking in front of my old home, which is now completely run down and seeing it kind of breaks my heart knowing that was once a happy house filled with love, blood, sweat and some tears. I was hoping one day to return and see another young family enjoying that house as much as we did, but I fear it never will, so I have let go of that thought.

A quick walk brings me to the hospital and into the Cancer Clinic, where the routine begins of the questionnaire to fill out abut your physical, emotional and mental well-being. A mix up this time had me waiting for blood to be drawn, luckily it was caught and my vein was spared from the sharp needle this time. I was very quickly brought to one of the private waiting room, checked in on by the nurse and then told the doctor would be right with me. After a couple of minutes the oncologist enters and introduces himself and we have a quick chat, one important question I have for a new doctor is, “Do you have experience with NET cancer?” His reply was that although he was relatively new to oncology he had trained at the Juravinski Centre (In Hamilton) and had resources there to refer my case to and like most younger doctors I have met seem generally interested in a rare case such as mine. Anyways, he told me that my bloodwork was remarkable (A word doctors seem to use when everything is looking good) and that the CAT scan, get ready for it… showed no signs of progression or growth. So, after being pretty close to undergoing PRRT treatment it seems that could be in the rear view mirror for the time being and great timing as this appears to be what could be a trippers paradise this fall, weather wise anyway.

There you have it, this guy after about four and a half years now is still stable and for someone given a deadline on life it looks real good right now. I won’t waste this time either as I try to get a post out when I’m home and also edit video from my latest trips, which I won’t get out until I return from Algonquin again. I leave Friday and will be out for a week trying to get in some late season trout fishing before the season ends at the end of the month. I have also been approached about doing another public talk and also maybe the chance to write a book, but more to come on that later. For now I’ll just leave you with this good news and a link to a couple of my videos, I hope you consider subscribing, give a like and comment and even share both this blog and/or YouTube channel. I enjoy showing and telling you that life can be lived to the fullest even with a cancer diagnosis. Spreading this sense of hope is important and I truly wish it gives you a sense of purpose, like it does for myself.