My Theme Song

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe in 1998

There’s a song that has followed me. In fact, music has always been a wonderful escape for me. Not saying that I have lived a life where I needed to escape, perhaps I worded that wrong. When I go for a run (well, it’s been nearly two years since I’ve done that on a Sunday afternoon), I stomp the beat on the pavement and stop thinking. I just listen to the instruments, sometimes the words, the catchy tune and relax. I like to think that there’s a soundtrack to my life. A particular song can throw me back to a holiday once had, a sad or fond memory or just reinforce a mood. Either way, music does affect me. 

In high school, my music class loved to sing together. I don’t remember how it came about. We were a group of teens with different levels of music experience and certainly weren’t all solo vocal artists. But together, we sang beautifully. We received an award for it so, it’s not just my word. Anyway, there’s this song we used to sing. 

Beyond school, I can’t say I heard the song all that often but I did come across the lyrics. When I did hear or read those lyrics, I was instantly thrown back in time to those moments where we sang together. When my children began school, at the very same school that I attended, I was warmed to hear that this song, that our music class sang, had become part of the school culture. So, this song, it seemed to follow me. 

Armed with a diagnosis, medical treatment in hand and my lung clear of fluid, I was happy to be going home after a three night stay at the hospital. At that time, I was very weak. I was tired and in pain. Having had cancer return I knew what was before me. By this time I had followed the treatment of three friends who had their cancer return. I knew how this would end for me. This wasn’t how I had planned to avoid going grey and having wrinkles. I wasn’t going to crossfit my way through this one. This really rattled me. I had already decided that I wasn’t going to do IV chemo so I knew that the statistics that the oncologist rattled off hadn’t factored that. There were two ways in which way this story would end; I would have a miracle or each of the treatments would give me an extended period of stable disease. I had a chronic disease but there was treatment. I should have been ok with it all. I wasn’t though. I was very unsettled. Being unsettled is how I lost my voice.

It was funny how so many people around me started saying exactly what I needed. Basically, I did not have any peace. Funnily, and I don’t believe they were coincidences, so many people around me kept on saying the word. I was even gifted a bottle of “Peace” essential oil. Then an old friend, totally randomly, sent me a song. It was a version of a song sung by Zimbabweans. He had no idea of my circumstances and how greatly I was impacted by this simple sharing of a youtube video. He sent me this song because he remembered that I had travelled to Zimbabwe many years ago. Little did he know that it was a song that had become quite special to me. 

Then, if I couldn’t be pointed towards this song any more strongly in my life, the song popped up at another time. At the beginning of 2020, I had become short of breath. When I would be on my back, I could hear, what I can only describe as, gurgling at the back of my throat. I had been handling the oral chemo well and felt reasonable good so I wondered whether I may have picked up some kind of infection. It was at this time that I was due for a bone and CT scan. Well, it wasn’t so much a surprise when I saw 75% of my lung shaded in - it was full of fluid (for the second time). Within a week, I found myself checking into the hospital for pleura effusion treatment. On completion of the paperwork and before being changed into the uncomfortable underclothes, gown and red socks, I was ushered into a room for blood collection. A blood draw is no easy task with my damaged veins and nerves. But, as the collector knelt down to clean my skin in preparation for the prick of the needle, the introduction to a song was blasted through the ward. You won’t believe the song. Just minutes prior, the collector had told me that a surgeon was setting up to sing. Apparently, he randomly turns up in wards throughout the hospital to sing a song. You know, he could have belted out any song. As my blood slowly collected in the barrel of the syringe, he sang MY SONG!

I have included the version of the song my friend sent me, here for you. I pray that you would have peace too. 

If viewing from a mobile device, you may need to switch to the web version for the video to play. Click on "Web Version" at the bottom of this post.

MEDICAL REGIME 

The first line of treatment, shared on my previous post, stopped working after six months. What this means is that the cancer has become resistant to treatment and the treatment is no longer working. At this point the cancer is able to progress and it did. This was very disappointing. This treatment had the potential to keep things stable for years. It wasn’t to be. 

SECOND LINE OF TREATMENT

Zolodex: A monthly implant to stop ovaries from functioning

Denosumab: A monthly injection to strengthen bones

Affinitor: Oral chemo

Exemestane: Aromatase inhibitor