After two intense years of treatment for acute myeloid leukaeamia, Em Meades has a newfound appreciation for the small but important moments in life. This is part four of her story, in her own words.
My life is good. I am studying Entertainment Business Management and loving every moment of it. I’m also loving being an aunt to my gorgeous niece, Elsie, who just turned one. My friends come over every Monday night to my house for ‘Crafternoons’ and I cook them all dinner and we catch up on our weeks and enjoy each other’s company. My life is filled with love, laughter and lots of adventures nearly two years on from that somewhat dramatic doctor’s visit, and my heart and soul could not be more full.
My health concerns will probably always sit as a constant undercurrent in my brain, a thrum that my partner, Ruth, and I can’t ignore. Fevers, changes in appetite and energy, and sore throats will always spike a moment of anxiety, probably for the rest of my life. However, the thrum is getting quieter and we are settling into a pattern of our new normal.
I’ve now finished the oral chemo which is the biggest win of all. I took the last tablets on a road trip through Western Australia in March at a campsite surrounded by birds and trees. Those tablets are, to be frank, not the funnest – I don’t miss the nausea they caused every day. No longer smelling their intense odour every time we walk past the shelf they lived on is also an improvement in our day-to-day life.
I still attend appointments every six weeks with my haematology team at Box Hill Hospital and that will continue for the foreseeable future, along with the accompanying blood tests. However, the biopsies I needed every three months have now ceased.
At the moment we are investigating some concerns around my liver and iron levels that may have been triggered by parts of my initial treatment. I am still struggling with energy and fatigue, and haven’t been able to go back to regular full-time employment. Some days I wake up so drained I just have to curl up on the couch with my SwitchLite or a book and force myself to take it easy. That learning curve of slowing down and listening to my capacity has been steep but valuable. I can’t do it all and that’s okay.
But that all feels like a small price to pay for having survived acute myeloid leukaemia and getting to enjoy the moments in life I would have missed – my niece’s cheeky smile, the warm sun on a spring morning, the creek near our house, the joy of cooking a meal for friends and family, and cups of tea on the couch with Ruth after a long day. These small moments are everything to me, and I am so thankful to be here to enjoy them.
Read part one, part two and part three of Em’s story.
Some of this series includes excerpts from Em’s personal blog. You can visit her blog here.
