Category: leukemia

Don’t feed the BEAST

“When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom

Let it be, let it be

And in my hour of darkness

She is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom

Let it be, let it be”

I’m back, in desperate need of an outlet to expel my thoughts and extinguish an ever-present fear that was ignited nearly 2 years ago – the very real and time bound reality of my own mortality. For my own selfish reasons, I find my instinct to turn to words in times of crisis, allowing myself to write the thoughts I’ve condemned. To push myself beyond the narrow boundary of positivity and accept that being on the mend is not piecemeal and needs to be whole- this includes the thoughts that your supporters have classified as black sheep. 

Despair can be a a challenging emotion to navigate, difficult to accept and determined to weigh you down into a dark abyss. Since my diagnoses, a dark cloud has loomed and followed too closely, bombarding my own mindfulness. A brigade of dark noise and worries ensued, enveloping my thoughts and continues to devour as long as its fed – a true glutton. The buffet is over. 

What is an adult? If you define it as the years post-partying, blissfully ignorant and content with life essentials – this came to a screeching halt at 23. Adulting has proven to be a series of challenges testing my mental grit, physical stamina and  potential to see beyond the surface. As a naive boy I evolved into a naive man that was punched in the face with the taboo phenomena of unhealthy youth – a notion that I dismissed until I couldn’t. 

Even in the darkest of places, light exists and in my case an enduring flame that is family. Though my life has taken considerable shape over the last 2 years, I refuse to allow the darkness to overshadow the light. Reminiscent of the famous socially ubiquitous door analogy, I find life to be a series of ebbs and flows where we timeline our outgoing and incoming tides, acknowledging that both contribute to our mortal erosion. Incoming phases test our courage to welcome the new followed by  subsequent outgoing tides that test our resilience and ability to let go. 

Consistent with the ebbs and flows of the time, my daughters grand entrance would shortly precede the departure of our matriarch and my biggest supporter, Nonna. RIP

As I write from another room at PMH, my crisis that I have chosen to draw out is that I have fucken relapsed. That is the eloquence it deserves and that I will continue to serve up.

I’m calling an intermission to avoid feeding the beast at this time of night. 

Talk soon,

The Gangs of Coletta

Anger is one of those emotions that can be easy to default to and rapidly multiply – not unlike the bastard leukemic cells that invaded my body. As I lie awake processing the news from the night before, my instinct was to rage, to amplify my indignant stance with such vigor that it would disengage my comprehension and alleviate my terror. This of course was an alternative to the Delorean time machine that I would have preferred but that might be on purchase order for the next several decades. Great Scott!

Time seemed to stand still as my anarchist mind abandoned all control of its optimist environment. The Gangs of Coletta we’re multiplying- dominated by The Wicked What Ifs, Hellish How Longs’ and Angels of Death. I felt as though I was having an out of body experience, staring at someone that I didn’t recognize and never wanted to be. I’m sure this is true of any diseased patient that is playing cliffhanger in their mind and so you might think I drew comfort from that universal commonality. Fuck no – because logic and reason were abandoned in my brain- remember ^?

I continued to overload my brain with a barrage of pessimism, a short circuit ensued that would have me catching Zzz’s for a few hours.

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Day 2

Waking up on a makeshift bed in a hospital cell, my hopefulness in the possibility of the dirty L word being a figment of my imagination quickly dissipated. Reality can be a crude state, especially when it materializes from the unexpected – bluntly stabbing with every breath and consideration for the downstream impacts. As I started to transition from the “me” side of the equation, a new set of concerns mounted as I anticipated the hysteria from my family. I should mention that this is now the Saturday before Thanksgiving so you can appreciate my reluctance in wanting to reach out and make any impromptu announcements before clearings up some of those x’s. I did call one person…

Everyone has that 1 go-to person to level set, a walking talking Ativan that you want to have to navigate a bad situation…introducing my sister, Magellan. I’ll refrain from going into the details of the conversation and allow you to infer the reaction of any sister who has been told that their brother has cancer…

With my pregnant wife at my bedside, I was eagerly awaiting the ominous transport to Princess Margaret. With my sister en route and still in the discovery phase of the grim news – I decided to sidestep this conversation with my other immediate family until we knew more.

Upon my arrival at PMH, my senses were wildly sensitive to my surroundings. I can distinctly remember being attached to my first IV bag and the corresponding oncology stamp that lit up the screen of the IV pump – another affirmation of this grotesque reality.

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Throughout the course of the day, my processor was being overloaded with hypotheticals though it became clear that a bone barrow biopsy would be required before ordering treatment. Again, true to form, my situation would be more complex to manage because of my existing anti-coagulation therapy. Translation : the medical team have to manage my mechanical heart valve (that uses blood thinners as a preventative mitigation tactic for clots) against the fact that the leukemia is essentially suppressing every back-up clotting protocol (which puts me at high risk for internal bleeding) HENCE the catalyst to this adventure, the blood in my urine.

“Let us have the specialized teams weigh-in on this and we’ll get back to you with their recommendations ”

We were inching but knew more than the day before. And so day 2 came to a close.

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