I actually can't remember the last time I blogged. Cancer killed a lot of my enthusiasm last year. But I am back and intend to make up for lost time.
I suppose the biggest thing with suffering from Cancer was that my life became exceedingly mundane. Every day was the same, wake up, take meds, sit, rest and taking more meds before calling it a night. The boredom and lack of life was worse than the disease.
But the good news now is that I am 100% in complete remission, the operation a success. Then after that, it was just a matter of living with the changes, the stoma and the life that came with it. It's something that I am still coming to terms with. I struggle on a daily basis with the idea of it, dealing with it.
They say it gets easier with time, I don't know about that. Everyone tells me that a normal life is had...but it isn't. I do, however, accept it. I don't have to like something to accept the reality of it, this is just a given. It is who I am now and that won't change.
I know in that reality I am the same person, but to me I've changed, I have a "new" normal to deal with.
To prove this to myself I undertook a 102 km hike along The Cooloola Great Walk. It runs from Rainbow Beach to Noosa. this was done in September 2020 whilst all the CoVid hoo hah was in it's prime. I caught the train from Bundaberg to Gympie where I boarded a bus for Rainbow Beach. At it's completion I caught the bus from Noosa to Coorooy then the train home.
It was tough, but I made it. It took me five and a half days where I lived on homemade dehydrated meals. But it was spectacular. The days varied in length from 15 km to 23 km.I was still going through Chemo at the time, and boy was my oncologist mad with me when I saw him next.
My feet were pretty badly blistered even though I took all the right precautions. You know, Injinji sock liners, hikers wool, it didn't matter in the end. It actually wasn't too bad, just some small ones appeared over the first couple of days, but on Day 3 it rained all day. I was sodden, cold and well, my feet didn't take to kindly to wet boots.
I was ecstatic that I completed it, no matter how exhausting and painful it was. I t was just good to feel again, something other than the lounge chair cushion or my bed. I couldn't ride as the wounds from my APR were still healing, that would be my butt cheeks...they were sewn together after my anus and rectum was completely removed.
It was all over too son and it wasn't long before I was back in the cancer treatment room receiving my Oxilplatlin injection and tablets. I did the hike in my off week, where no injections or tablets were dosing me up. I was on a cycle of 2 weeks on, 1 week off.
But I had an enormous sense of accomplishment, after all it had been so long since I had done anything like this.
Eventually my Chemo was over, 2 cycles early which was great. I had met with my surgeon and had the all clear to start riding again, and riding again I did. I wasn't long before I was back up to 70 km rides on a regular basis. It was all coming back to me...except...
Hills were a problem, a big problem. Some that I used to fly up on my road bike some years back became ones I now had to walk up. This was a problem for me, I always not minded hills. Even on my road bike I used to be able to push up some bloody steep hills. Even before Cancer I was able to tow the trailer behind the Kona up many.
I did what I thought would fix it, I headed out to the local mountain bike park. the plan was to go out and recover some skills I found that had subsided. Things like gear changing, balance, and hills were all affected by Cancer's ugly rising.
I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Single track is not normally my thing, but I was out in the fresh air, it was quiet, what was not to love about it. I even had a thermos of coffee and some snacks back at the car. I had planned to around 50 km. I thought that would be a good cardio work out and start to revitalise things that were missing in me.
I turned down one track called Pin and Grin. Sadly for me it is now called Pin and Grimace. I was flowing nicely down the track and lost track of my speed. I came around a corner and saw a small jump. "I'll get this", I said to myself.
The problem was, I didn't see the other small jump behind the first until it was too late. The front tyre dug into the top of the second jump. I recall watching the forks on the Cube take up all their travel. Over the bars I went...and it hurt.
Once I came to a stop I knew that had done something to my shoulder, my clavicle or AC joint. As I reached across the front of me I could feel the discomfort of my clavicle sticking across my wind pipe. It didn't choke me, it was just not where it was supposed to be.
I dragged myself up and dusted off my clothing. I looked for the bike, as it was down the track a ways and off to the side. I gathered myself together, mounted the bike and began the ride back to the car, 5 long and gruelling kilometers.
once I reached the car I dropped the bike into the back and drove the 30 km home. I called my wife on the way home telling her of what had happened. She was to meet me at home and take me up to the hospital.
She was there by the time I got home, I showered the blood and dirt off myself then started feeling very woozy. It was time to call an ambulance.
The ambos arrived shortly after the call, put my neck in a brace as a precaution and took me to the hospital. It was here I was to find that I had broken my neck. Yes, I had ridden 5 km, and driven 30 km more with a broken neck.
The C5, C6 and C7 vertebrae were fractured. The next day I was flown to Brisbane for an emergency operation. I had the C5 tidied up and the C6 and 7 fused together. I was a very lucky boy.
So much for riding, the rest of 2020 was spent yet again, sitting on the lounge chair and lying in bed...would this year ever end.
I recovered speedily and I was almost about to tackle riding again, no...no single track. I went to my GP to get the all clear when I had a massive turn. Dizziness, vomiting and I collapsed in the surgery. Up to the hospital again...ahh, 2020 the year that kept giving.
They were concerned that I may have had a stoke but because of my recent neck surgery it was too soon to have an MRI. The CT scan came back clear for and damage, but it was now a matter of waiting still, again.
It turns out that I now have Vestibular Derticulitis, an inflammation of the inner ear. I was receiving some physio for it but my physio has no gone on maternity leave.
It was a rough start to 2021, but I am happy to say that I am back on the bike. It has taken some time to get there, but it has happened. I am back up to 70 km rides and I think I'll leave single track where it is, for a while anyway. Actually my first bike trip is in a couple of days. It's just an overnighter down to Wongi Waterholes about 100 km south of me.
I plan on heading out behind Childers to find some forestry tracks that lead into the state forest. The main aim is the planning a 2 week bike packing trip in mid March. This trip will hopefully take me down through Wongi State Forest, to Tairo and then across through Tairo and Bauple Sate Forests. From there I'll head south through Toolara State Forest and into Cooloola National Park.
I'll continue down the the coast though back tracks and roads until I get to north of Brisbane. From Caboolture I'll head south west through to Mt Crosby and onto Wulkuraka near Ipswich.
My plan is to rise north along the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail and Kilkivan to Kingaroy Rail Trail. I've only ever ridden these in a southerly direction. It's a long way to go to travel north along a rail trail I've ridden, but that is the joy is bicycle touring and bike packing.
Once at Kilkivan I'll head nort up Running Creek Road to Brooweena where I'll travel into the depth of the unknown and try some forestry trail home.
All I can say it is good to be back, I still am healing in the shoulder somewhat and the dizziness from my inner ear still comes and goes. But I am finding that riding is helping with it all.
I also look forward to getting back behind the keyboard again and writing of my journeys.
Thank you all for your patience, and your support over the past year, it means the world.
Cheers, and ride safe out there.
