Yes, I’m still alive

It’s been a really long time between blog posts. I’m over two years behind now. Some days I think I’ll get back into it and catch up, other days I think I can’t be bothered because I’m a bit bored with this cancer gig. I still don’t know if I’ll ever catch up but I thought I’d post a little update now, and there are a few reasons for that. One is that a few months ago, I randomly contacted an old friend of mine who I hadn’t spoken to for ages. He replied saying that he’d been checking my blog regularly and hadn’t seen any new posts so he thought the worst. So this post is basically a quick (my sort of quick) update for the people who aren’t on Facebook, like Sally and Ev, because I posted this on Facebook two days ago, on the anniversary of my admission to hospital for a stem cell transplant. It’s also for people like my friend, who’ve been checking in and wondering what’s happened to me, to let them know that I’m still alive!

I almost didn’t remember how to log in to this blog again, but when I did, I was reminded that I have a lot of blog posts that I’ve written a few points for, so I really should get back to them one day. Jenni (fave sis) also has a celebrity blog post that she started writing over two years ago, so I should give her her five minutes of fame. I also checked the stats page, expecting it to be blank, but even after writing nothing for over a year, this blog is still getting a few hits every day.

Below is a summary of the past two years, but there’s still a bit of information missing between the last blog post and the day I was admitted to hospital for the stem cell transplant. I will try to fill all that in one day….maybe.  When I talk about The Lymphoma Nurse Project below, if you haven’t heard about it, it’s just a little goal I’ve set myself to raise $100,000 this year to fund a full-time lymphoma nurse, based in Melbourne, in 2017. This is part of a bigger plan of Lymphoma Australia’s to have lymphoma nurses in every state in Australia. I am taking up the Melbourne challenge.

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Two years ago today, I arrived at hospital for a stem cell transplant. I was already weak and a shadow of my former self after nearly a year of chemotherapy and an infection that nearly killed me. I knew the stem cell transplant wasn’t going to work but I had been convinced it was my best option at the time.

I was in hospital for nearly a month. I missed my daughter’s birthday and my sister’s birthday (well, that one came to me) while I was given what is described as a lethal dose of chemotherapy – chemotherapy so strong that it would have killed me if I wasn’t “rescued” by getting my stem cells back. That in itself was horrendous enough, but it was made worse by sharing a bathroom with a man who urinated all over the toilet seat, (Every. Single. Time.) and left his clothes in the bathroom when he’d lost control of his bowels. I had food stolen from the fridge (not that I ate much), body wash stolen from the bathroom, a grad nurse whose idea of sterile technique was far from ideal (when I had a white cell count of zero). Horrendous doesn’t really cut it. When I finally got out of hospital, on the days I had the strength to shower, I would throw up because my heart rate would soar to about 160. It was brutal.

It was no surprise to me when I got the news that the stem cell transplant had failed. I had lymphoma in my neck, chest, lungs, bones. Everywhere. It was a massive FU from that cancer. What I didn’t tell people at the time was that according to published studies, people who relapsed within 60 days of a stem cell transplant lived on average for another 1.2 years. So according to the data, I should be well and truly dead by now. But according to the data, I also should have been cured by the first 6 months of chemotherapy. So I’ve always thought, fuck the data.

I then had to raise a lot of money to get a new drug on the Hodgkin’s lymphoma scene and I was absolutely blown away by the support from friends, family and strangers. Nobody knows that there was someone in my family who was just sitting back, watching, and was ready to jump in with whatever I needed to finish the course of treatment when all of the generous donations ran out. It never got to that because soon enough, that treatment stopped working.

I always asked a lot of questions and never understood why Australian’s couldn’t access drugs that were freely available overseas. My haematologist at the time mentioned a trial for a drug I was constantly asking him about. I didn’t need it at the time, but I got in touch with the head of haematology at the hospital where I was told the trial would be running. Best decision of my life!

When the previous drug stopped working, I went to see this haematologist for a second opinion because I wasn’t happy with the advice from another haematologist (not the one who told me about the trial; I have a lot of haematologists in my life). He quickly became MY haematologist and I haven’t looked back. I had to wait 6 months for the trial to start, just letting my lymphoma spread from my neck and chest to being all over my body again. But after just 4 cycles of this new trial drug, a drug that isn’t chemotherapy, I was either in remission or very close to it. A year later, I’m still in that situation with regard to the lymphoma, I’m back at work, I can look after my kids, my mum has moved out, I am no longer the skinny sister and I’m on the board of Lymphoma Australia trying to make a difference for all lymphoma patients; trying to prevent others from going through some of what I’ve been through (there were a few bad decisions along the way but I won’t go into them now).

Thanks to my new haematologist and Lymphoma Australia, I have been able to pass on information about trials and compassionate access programs to other people with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Information their haematologists have scoffed at and told them they were wrong. But I insisted and they insisted and they got on the new treatment – people who had been told to go home and die, a boy whose mother thought she was going to see him die before her eyes on the very day he started the new treatment, a friend in his 20’s who was offered palliative chemotherapy. The stories are truly amazing.

This, my friends, is why I am so passionate about fundraising for a lymphoma nurse (who won’t be a grad nurse). Someone who is 100% dedicated to lymphoma patients and their families and can help them navigate the system and access THE BEST treatments, not just what is available in their hospital. My goal starts in Melbourne, but we need a nurse in every state and we will get there.

A few boring stats for you – lymphoma is the fifth most common cancer in Australia. Someone is diagnosed with it every TWO hours and someone dies every SIX hours. It claims as many lives in Australia as skin cancer, yet a lot of people have never heard of it and would have no idea what the symptoms are. Do you know?

I honestly believe that I would not be where I am today if the mistakes in my treatment were not made. I could have been cured a long time ago. But mistakes were made and I could have died, but I didn’t. I was “lucky” to be able to find out about and access the best available treatment. Not everyone can do that themselves. If you believe everything happens for a reason, then I guess I wasn’t cured with first line treatment so my eyes could be opened to this whole other world. It’s shit and it’s unfair and it’s heartbreaking at times but it’s so bloody inspiring and exciting too.

Please support me and my Lymphoma Nurse Project. https://www.facebook.com/melbournelymphomanurse/… Simply like the page (if you’re on Facebook). Please share it too and ask your friends to like it.

If you’re feeling really pumped, commit to raising just $100 for this project. Join ‘Team Baker’ here https://lymphomanurses.everydayhero.com/au/team-melissa Set up your own fundraising page and spread the word! $100 is easy – if I can motivate just 500 people to do that, then I will be half way to my target. Lymphoma nurses really will make a difference.

And this my friends, is why I haven’t touched that blog (remember that?) for two years. This was supposed to be a short post saying this day two years ago was shit, but I’ve rambled a bit. As I do.

‪#‎fuckyoucancer‬ ‪#‎fuckthedata‬ ‪#‎chemosucks‬ ‪#‎immunotherapyisthenewblack‬‪ #‎lymphomanurseswillchangelives‬ ‪#‎getonboard‬

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My mum, myself and Jenni on admission day. I have no idea why we are all smiling.