43. Running in the dark

Mile 40 – Muddy.

You can appreciate that, to see the sun rise from the top of the hill, it is important to set out before the sun is up. I have always enjoyed exercising early in the morning: it leaves me invigorated and, somehow, with more energy during the day, although I guess it’s not for everyone.

I am so familiar with the local lanes that I don’t bother turning my torch on unless a car is coming and I want to make sure they spot me. My eyes quickly become accustomed to night vision and it’s easy to pick out the road by reflections from puddles on the ground. I must admit a couple of times I have been brought up short by another runner doing the same thing coming the other way, when we haven’t spotted each other until the last minute.

It is peaceful first thing in the morning. Sometimes I might startle a deer, and I try not to let my mind turn to occasional local news stories about the Sussex Panther.

My exercise regime is still going well. I have been for long walks, twice going over Wolstonbury Hill, as well as riding my static bike in the garage, all on top of the daily physio routine prescribed by UCLH. For some reason one of our friends says she can’t read my blog any more: it makes her feel tired.

I set out for one of my walks in the dark, just after 6am, and made it to the top of the hill for a rather subdued sunrise.

After my bike workout it was time for a protein boost and I made use of the Ensure meal drinks that I picked up from UCLH. One of these is enough for a day’s nutrition but when I needed them at the hospital, I couldn’t face the taste. They could come in handy now though.

—oOo—

We met with my Consultant Haematologist this week to talk about the next steps, namely the two cycles (i.e. months) of consolidation chemotherapy. They will involve pretty much the same medications as the induction treatment that I started at the end of February this year, although perhaps giving Lenalidomide another try (despite my having come out in a rash last time I took it).

There is always something new to discover regarding the treatment plan. Apparently they used to give six months of this chemo followed by the stem cell transplant and then put people on maintenance drugs. After better results had been achieved in France, they copied their method and split up the chemo into four cycles of induction (I had five, because some of them had to be interrupted) followed by the stem cell treatment (referred to as consolidation one) and then two more months of chemo (consolidation two).

I will start my consolidation two treatment at the Montefiore Hospital in the second week of January (allowing us to take a Christmas and New Year break). Blood tests will be done at the start, or possibly the week before and I’ll have another bone marrow biopsy at the end to see how things are going.

I asked about the damage Multiple Myeloma had done to my bones and whether that would restrict my physical activities but was reassured that there is nothing to worry about and I can try running again when I am ready. The consultant recommended that I work on back and core exercises (so perhaps I should be training even more).

I mentioned my loss of two inches in height and asked if that was common in Myeloma patients and was told that the steroids (Dexamethasone and Prednisolone) may have contributed to that: they apparently soften the bone. All the more reason for building up my back muscles. The consultant also mentioned reducing the steroid dosage in the next cycles, so hopefully I won’t have as many sleepless dex nights.

The vague science of isolation rules continues to leave us in the dark. Our consultant seems to think three months is long enough following the SCT (which would finish on 19th December), rather than 100 days (finishes 28th December). We are sticking to the longer period, even though it knocks out Christmas. He was happy for us to mix with people after that, so we can see the family indoors at last and a table has been booked for the event. However, when I start the next cycles of chemo, I have to be “careful” again. I mentioned my plan to volunteer at the local library in January but he recommended putting that back until March when I should hopefully be in remission. It is difficult to know what I can and can’t do in the coming months. We didn’t ask about all the activities that Sue has planned such as rejoining her choir and starting art classes, in case he bans those too.

If I do catch COVID, I should contact the GP straight away, explain my immunosuppressed status and ask for treatment, rather than just continue to cough at home.

—oOo—

Let’s have a moment’s silence for Henry, our vacuum cleaner, who broke down after 10 years of loyal service. It happened when we were putting up Tim and Sarah’s shelves last week: there was a nasty burning smell as the motor finally gave up the ghost. We thought we had a spare Henry which had a few paint stains and which we used for outside jobs, but after searching everywhere we couldn’t find it, so we bought a new and improved model. It seemed a waste to take the old one to the tip: there was nothing wrong with the body or the hose attachments, so I researched how to replace the motor. If you have a similar job there is a great video by Charlie DIYte.

A new motor is about a third of the price of a new cleaner. I ordered one and set to work on Saturday morning, fixing it in a couple of hours and then giving the shed a good clean – everything in it had been covered in sawdust since I sanded down those airing cupboard slatted shelves.

That job done, I had time in the afternoon to fetch the Christmas decorations from the cupboard and who should I find looking at me?

—oOo—

Since the weather was dry on Friday, much warmer than last week and at times even sunny, we were all set to go ahead with our al fresco lunch with friends, postponed from last week. The outdoor heater helped, at the price of almost burning Nick’s head.

You might just be able to make out the shoots of recovery on my head. It’s hard to make out the exact colour so far. Sue thinks it looks dark on the top and grey on the sides. I have received some complaints from some of my less hirsute friends, upset with me for abandoning the baldie brigade. Sorry chaps, but if you’ve got it, flaunt it!

Thanks for reading and take care.