It's been a whooping 365 days since my first infusion of ABVD. It's only been a year, but it feels so much longer. This blog has been my way to reflect on my diagnosis and treatment, and if you've been reading along, you can tell I've done a lot of reflection in the last year (I apologize to your poor squinting eyes that have stared at the computer screen this whole way). But, rather than analyze and reflect, I'm going to celebrate. It's been one hell of a year that I wouldn't have wished upon my worst enemy (some of you might know who that is, but I swear, this still holds), and I couldn't be happier to put this all behind me.
Whether you just started battling The Hodge or any other type of cancer, I'm going to borrow the phrase that LGBT activist campaigns use: IT GETS BETTER.
 |
Even if it's still hard and still shitty and you still have your fair share of down days (which, trust me, you will -- in a lot of ways my post-treatment period was more difficult than treatment itself), the fact that you do not have to revolve your life around 2 week infusion cycles -- let alone receive chemotherapy -- is something that you should celebrate and revel in. I know I said I would never call chemo poison, because it saved my life and all that, but man, it really sucks. Trust me, even if the rest of your life is in shambles, once you get that last IV things will instantly get a little better.
Okay, so I reflected a little. But I always want to celebrate! Here's what I've done since chemo. Yes, this is a little big of a #humblebrag, but I'm okay with that, because, guys, IT GETS BETTER:
- Flew back out of my nest in my parents house in Minnesota and returned to my life in Brooklyn. Living on the east coast has really made me appreciate my Midwestern roots, and all of the support from family, friends, and my healthcare team in the last year reinforced that. While I may be gone for now, I doubt I will stay away forever.
- Got a job. More correctly, I went back to my job pre-diagnosis. It's only been a short time since I've been back but I was able to just jump right in and not have to deal with the learning curve that comes with new jobs. To all of my colleagues: thank you for taking me back!
- Started grad school! This has been something I've wanted to do since I graduated from undergraduate, but for various reasons (namely, my aversion to student loans), I had kept procrastinating. As they say, there's nothing like cancer to make you carpe diem! I am taking two classes this semester towards my MS in Higher Education Administration, and am totally loving being back in student mode. I'm a little nervous about balancing work and school, but something tells me it will probably be at least a tad easier than chemo...
- Went on a life-changing kayaking trip with First Descents. Seriously, guys, adventure therapy is the best kind of therapy.
- Had a clean 6 month post-treatment scan. Let's keep those coming, universe.
- Grew hair! While it's growing way slower than I'd like, I am happy to report that I have a healthy head of hair coming in. Here's how it looks 6 months out of treatment. It's not there yet, but it's a definite improvement from my Donald Trump comb-over days. Speaking of Donald Trump, check this out if you want to be both amused and terrified (you can thank Scott for that one):
- And, last but not least....
Drumroll...
WE GOT A DOG!
 |
| Internet, meet Mads! |
After YEARS of drooling over other people's pups, I finally wore Scott down to get a little pup of our own. His name is Mads (his full name is Dr. Hannibark Lickter, inspired by the amazing Mads Mikkelsen's portrayal of Hannibal Lecter. NBC's Hannibal got canceled the night before we got him, so we figured what better way to honor the show?). He's a mutt from the wonderful BARC shelter in Brooklyn and is about 8 months old. I always told myself I would never get a puppy, but hey, the heart wants what it wants. We've had him for about 2 months, and aside from being a bit nippy (he was named after a cannibal, after all), it's been pure puppy bliss.
Okay, that was me celebrating. Now it's time for some #realtalk. While I am lucky enough to celebrate being in remission from The Hodge, not everyone is so fortunate. Hodgkin's is often referred to as one of the "good" cancers because of the likelihood of being cured. The survival rate is over 85 percent, but even with the good prognosis, over 1,000 Americans still die each year from Hodgkin's lymphoma. Holland C. Gregg, IV was one of them. After three years of fighting The Hodge, he passed away in 2005 at age 26. Holland was part of the 10 percent of cases that do not respond to conventional chemotherapy treatment. While ABVD and, for more advanced cases, BEACOPP and eBEACOPP, do the trick for most people, if those attempts fail the next step is salvage chemo (which is even MORE toxic) and a stem cell transplant, which is not only extremely hard on the body -- it's still not a guaranteed to kill the cancer.
Holland's family is working to help find a different, less toxic way to cure Hodgkin's and other cancers using immuotherapy. They've established the The Holland C. Gregg IV Research Fund to raise money to advance the immunotherapy work being done by Catherine Bollard at Children’s Hospital in D.C. and Baylor University in Austin Texas under Hellen Hissup. Immunotherapy is a hot topic in Cancer World, and it really seems like the New Frontier for killing cancer. If you have a few bucks to spare, please consider donating. You can read more about Holland's story here.
So, moral of the story is life moves on, and it gets better. I still think of cancer almost all the time, though slightly less than I did while I was in the midst of treatment. I will probably always think (and worry!) about cancer, but thankfully I am better equipped to cope with uncertainty-factor, which is the worst part about having had cancer. There is life after cancer, so keep chugging along and don't let those asshole mutant cells damper your days.
Okay, that was me celebrating. Now it's time for some #realtalk. While I am lucky enough to celebrate being in remission from The Hodge, not everyone is so fortunate. Hodgkin's is often referred to as one of the "good" cancers because of the likelihood of being cured. The survival rate is over 85 percent, but even with the good prognosis, over 1,000 Americans still die each year from Hodgkin's lymphoma. Holland C. Gregg, IV was one of them. After three years of fighting The Hodge, he passed away in 2005 at age 26. Holland was part of the 10 percent of cases that do not respond to conventional chemotherapy treatment. While ABVD and, for more advanced cases, BEACOPP and eBEACOPP, do the trick for most people, if those attempts fail the next step is salvage chemo (which is even MORE toxic) and a stem cell transplant, which is not only extremely hard on the body -- it's still not a guaranteed to kill the cancer.
Holland's family is working to help find a different, less toxic way to cure Hodgkin's and other cancers using immuotherapy. They've established the The Holland C. Gregg IV Research Fund to raise money to advance the immunotherapy work being done by Catherine Bollard at Children’s Hospital in D.C. and Baylor University in Austin Texas under Hellen Hissup. Immunotherapy is a hot topic in Cancer World, and it really seems like the New Frontier for killing cancer. If you have a few bucks to spare, please consider donating. You can read more about Holland's story here.
So, moral of the story is life moves on, and it gets better. I still think of cancer almost all the time, though slightly less than I did while I was in the midst of treatment. I will probably always think (and worry!) about cancer, but thankfully I am better equipped to cope with uncertainty-factor, which is the worst part about having had cancer. There is life after cancer, so keep chugging along and don't let those asshole mutant cells damper your days.
