flynn031

                                                                       Hair affair ^  Out of Induction (phase 1) and into Consolidation (phase 2), my hair barely survived. Although the new drugs on consolidation will result in more chemo-brain, as well as ‘hair loss’, it doesn’t phase me... Ha! But in all seriousness, I’ve got a tough month ahead of me with this new phase. Consolidation officially started on Tuesday at Children’s hospital when my body began its absorption of this month’s cancer-killers. Although, 3 days in and I haven’t felt the anticipated affects of chemo-brain yet (I say this while knocking on wood.) I plan on taking advantage of feeling normal, as I have been all week; as in going to school and doing non-cancer-patient like things. It feels fantastic. I drove into the hospital this...

"Hey, hey, stay positive, pal. Most people, they lose,they whine and quit. But you got to be there for the turns. Everybody's got good luck, everybody's got bad luck. Don't run when you lose. Don't whine when it hurts." -           Michael Douglas, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps Well, today is my fourth full day off that dreaded prednisone. I went for a bone marrow test today to ensure that this was, in fact, my last week of induction (Results will be in sometime next week). But for now, I’m beyond thrilled to publicize that I have the week off of treatment. As in no drugs, full body recovery before beginning the next phase.   But looking back, this past week has been a blur; a steroid haze. The days and nights distorted, moments split into mere fragments in my memory and any activities, I recall undertaking with minimal focus and energy. Reflecting on the week, I struggle to highlight the events that occurred in between the naps and th...

When you’re young, trying to live life to the full, cancer kinda takes the cake for the biggest buzz-kill ever. But when life hits hard, you hit it back harder. And if you’re too weak to hit .. well then you get your big brother to do it for you. Last week, a party was thrown in Edmonton by my brother Braxton and Nicole Quinn. It was hosted by Braxton and his roomies: Spencer, Jake and Jack. Brave boys, letting over 100 university students into their home .. But this was no habitual, uni house party; This was a Kegger for Cancer. With a full house, over $2500 clear was raised for cancer. Heads were shaved, awareness was spread and no buzz-kill, even cancer, stopped the night from being a success. Shout-out to everyone who partied for the cause that night; to everyone who went out of their way and raised money on their own time; and to everyone who had to part with their, I’m sure, beautifully lavish hair. After a long week of chemo-brain and steroid haze, hearing stories from that nigh...

Yesterday I spent the beautifully brisk morning in Vancouver: down to  Childrens ’ for my fourth helping of Chemotherapy and then to  Chipotle  for my second helping of Mexican food;  equally  noteworthy milestones. But after spending the weekend alone at home, adjusting to the continued erratic demands of my body, it was nice to talk to my oncologist and get an update on how my treatment is actually going. And since my purpose is to breed optimism, I sit here, happy to share with you the updated report on my experience so far: Mental breakdowns: These were more frequent this past week. As I mentioned in my last post, they are annoyingly sporadic and uncontrollable. The worst part for me isn’t the depression or lack of enthusiasm, but after a while, it’s that I start to lose sense of who I am and the normalities of my old life. Locked up in my room, in complete isolation, all I can think about is the sickness. And then in a flash, like my abrupt cravings for sal...

After what seemed like an endless week trapped in isolation, I finally mustered up enough energy to drop by my school for Halloween; couldn't pass up my last ever high-school costume contest on an account of low hemoglobin’s... Although I only lasted a couple hour’s yesterday morning, I realized that I’d truly underestimated the power of support when you are fully immersed in it. But regardless of support, the mere social exposure in itself was worth this drastic loss of energy that my body’s still seems to be recovering from ... 48 hours later .. However, with all the fun festivities of Halloween, and as much as I tried to embrace the normality, there is no denying that this week has been the most brutal since the start of my treatment. 3 weeks in, and although I was starting to adapt to the physical changes, the mental affects of chemo had never really hit me so hard.  For the first time I woke up feeling depressed, cynical and erratically insensitive. No desire to welcome the d...