By the Numbers
Growing up I always liked numbers. In high school, I’d get bored and watch the clock and on a sheet of paper on my desk I’d keep track of how much time was left in class, measured in minutes, seconds and percentages. During baseball season (pre-internet), I‘d keep track of the Phillies and Greg Luzinski’s batting average. I’ll calculate it per at bat and do what ifs on what it would take for him to hit certain hitting milestones. The math sections of standardized test were my jam. When I ran, I’d pay attention to how many steps it took between each sidewalk section. This allowed me to keep a consistent pace.
In college, I dominated math classes, that is until I got to calculus. That seriously caused me some heartache and challenges and led me to change my major. What’s interesting is that if I exerted the work and focus I put on my cancer on to my college studies, I might have a PhD by now. Oh well.
Cancer by the numbers
For me, cancer is all about numbers. My monthly labs. Hemoglobin, wbc, light chains, creatinine and on and on. You’d think I’d have spreadsheets with all these numbers coming out my ears, given my history. For years now, it has been my intention to create these. But I just haven’t. I’m guessing it’s because it’s not as fun. But I’ve got all these numbers locked in my head. When I was first diagnosed with multiple myeloma, all the numbers on my lab results made no sense. I had no idea what anything meant. There is still a lot that means nothing to me. But for the key measures, I can scope those out and compare to past results in a jiffy.
Also, when diagnosed, my nurse explained how chemo cycles work. 28 days per cycle. Days 1 through 28. My current regimen I do my infusion on day 1. I take my oral chemo on days 1-21. Then a break from 22-28. Then start over. When the pharmacy calls each month to renew my chemo prescription, they ask how many pills I have left. I used to lie and say I had less than I really did. For some reason, I didn’t want them to know how many I had left, that somehow it might impact when they sent the new cycle’s shipment.
Setting goals and persevering
I also track how long I’ve had the disease in months. In May of this year, I’ll hit 96 months. I weigh myself every morning. I acknowledge my half birthday every year. I was diagnosed when I was 49 and was looking forward to turning 50. It seemed like such a cool milestone. In three years, I’ll turn 60 years old. Considering everything, that will be massive. Each year I already celebrate on the date I was diagnosed. It’s a celebration of being alive and kicking. Ten years will be giant!! When diagnosed, my goal was to live with the disease for 2 years. I hit 2 years and my goal became 5 years (60 months). I hit 5 and my goal became ten years. But I’ll be bold and push the goal out to 15 years right now and not wait for my 10-year milestone.
With the new year, I am trying to keep better track of everything, starting January 1. How many treatments I’ve had. How many books I’ve read. How many miles walked. A couple of years ago, my mom shared with me a pseudo-annual report that a friend of hers did, that reported on how many things were accomplished the previous year. It was a slick document, with graphs and charts and narrative. It was pretty darn cool and I thought I should do the same thing. That’s my goal this year. Hopefully, I stick with it and don’t end up wasting time watching the clock. Ah, the games we play to persevere.
Do you experience brain fog?