A year of cycling

What a year it has been! And what a recovery from 2016!

5061km total for the year, my most in 10 years. Compared to 770km in 2016.

I cycled 300km in one night in 10 hours

https://www.strava.com/activities/1043324517

Rode to Slovakia and back before lunch in June (150km) https://www.strava.com/activities/1017286475

As well as 3 fun 100km rides:

Buddhist Stupa

Cserhat/Godollo loop

Godollo to Gyongyos via the Matra hills

The first 500km was cycled wearing a mask on my indoor trainer, as I recovered from my stem cell transplant.

Over 2000km on the indoor in trainer in total, until I got my full suspension bike to protect my 3 collapsed vertebrae from the wee cancer incident of 2016.

Tomorrow, health permitting, I'll be out for the first 100km ride of 2018.

Have a Happy New Year Everyone!

Mum

Gall stones!

Who knew that gall stones could cause so much pain?

On Thursday 16th March, less than two weeks after her 67th birthday, gall stones took my Mum away. One got stuck in her pancreatic duct resulting in the inflammation of her pancreas knocking her whole body off balance: her lungs, her kidneys and finally her liver gave in. She'd been on life support systems for less than 48 hours, but there was nothing they could do.

It all happened so fast. On Sunday I'd spoken to Dad, it was "Day 100" for me, Mum was having a rest because she wasn't feeling so well. They had spent some time looking after Lizzie's kids and it had tired them out. On Monday morning Dad called; she'd been admitted to hospital with gall stones. They were talking about removing the gall bladder. A friend had had this done recently, and I thought of it as concerning, but treatable.

On Tuesday the situation had become severe, she needed a mask to breathe, but she'd need to be put on a ventilator so that they could run a scan on her pancreatic duct to check for blockage. I spoke to Mum for the last time only an hour after I was allowed to remove my mask in public. I told her that I loved her, and that she should stay positive. She told me that she loved me: that much I could hear from behind her mask. I am so glad for that.

Wednesday, around lunch time, Mum's doctor called me to tell me that her situation was dire and that we were waiting for a miracle. He was kind. Wednesday I cried a lot. Dad and Lizzie were with her, and Vicky had arrived from Singapore: they spent all day and night with her, it must have been so so hard for them. At least I could do other things to take it off my mind. But I wasn't there for her. To hold her hand and whisper in her ear and tell her that I loved her. To hold my Dad and my sisters at the most difficult time for our family. I hardly slept.

On Thursday morning Lizzie called to say the time had come. I could tell my Mum over the phone that I love her very much, that she was a wonderful mother, and I said "goodbye": we would look after Dad. Then they turned off the machines.

I had deluded myself that Amy (7) knew what was going on, she knew Grandma was sick and that Daddy had been crying a lot, but when I asked her if she knew what was going on, she shook her head. Then her eyes welled up with tears. In the end I was glad to be with this part of my family.

This photo makes me smile. Mum never really drank, but when she did you knew a candidate for the family story archive was on the cards. This was during Mum and Dad's last visit to Hungary and the last time I saw Mum in person. It was just after I had got out of hospital. Dad had ordered his usual beer, and Mum her usual orange juice. But, Dad had forgotten that there is zero tolerance to drink driving in Hungary: you can't even have a sip. So Mum took his beer and took great satisfaction in teasing Dad about it, giggling all the way.

Cheers! I love you Mum

100 Days - Freedom!

The 100 day milestone that once seemed impossibly far away is finally here. It's hard to believe that 100 days ago I was in my bunker sealed off from the world.

On Tuesday, I'll have my last check up in Debrecen where they will make some more detailed blood tests to see how my immune system is doing, as well as a bone marrow sample to check for relapse, though my doctor is confident nothing will be found, since I went into chemotherapy MRD- (no cancer cells). I'll still have a suppressed immune system for a long time (up to 18 months), but passing the 100 day milestone means that I can return to the real world. I can go around without a mask and gloves, I can be amongst other people, I can go shopping, to cafes. I can cycle outside. I'm going to give it a few more weeks before I start going to kindergarten and school though. Next weekend I plan to go hiking in the hills with my family.

Today also marked another cool milestone: 500 km on my bike so far this year. Not bad if I say so myself! Soon I will get my new bike and start riding outside for the first time in over a year. I've set myself a 4000 km target for the year. I'm feeling very good these days and can handle longer and harder rides, so it's looking good for Vätternrundan in June.

A month ago I wrote that I was returning to work. That has been working out really well. I'm working 4 hours a day, which means I can still spend plenty of time looking after myself: cycling, going for walks, reading, studying and eating well. I even started playing with writing a professional blog, which I've found a really good way to cement my understanding of difficult topics. Eventually I will start to work more and even go back into the office, but I am in no rush.

I cannot wait for Tuesday and after 104 days being able to have a kiss :)

Back to work

Tomorrow I go back to work!

I've been putting it off for a while, but not because I don't want to go back: I couldn't be more motivated. I'm lucky enough that I can decide when, and the conditions about how I return. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have the level of support from family and employer, and financial stability, that I have had.

What has actually held me back is the feeling inside that life is so full of opportunities. It's almost overwhelming, and occasionally paralysing. I find myself doing one thing, then getting excited by another that pops into my head, and before I know it I have 5 things going at once. Recently I have focused on a mantra we repeat at often work: "Stop starting. Start finishing."

I've spent quite a lot of time reading and studying, filling in gaps in my professional knowledge or revisiting things forgotten. I've built up quite a backlog of books (reading list at the end). I've continued to cook and have been toying with getting a new sourdough built so that I can make some fantastic bread whilst I still have plenty of time at home.

I've started a cycling training plan, a modest one to start with, but I've already cycled 160km this year on my indoor trainer. I cycle the 300km route in June in my head often. I think of new bike races and challenges. Constantly. I have my eyes on a new bike. I lust over it. Constantly.

I still go for walks, but less for exercise than for getting out in the fresh air and being with nature. Or spending time with the kids, Climbing trees (them), playing "I Spy" (quite a challenge with bilingual kids: fortunately I know that "N" stands for "Tongue").

Rosie has been off kindgarten for 3 weeks, attempting to avoid catching the winter illnesses and infecting me. It has been a joy having this time with her to bond, playing and losing memory games, cooking, going for walks. She plays so well independently, that I can easily do my own thing. She didn't want to go back yesterday, and I didn't want her too either. I wonder how I might have managed had I been the one home with the kids when they were babies.

I'm still going to have time for these things after today, since I will only be working 4 hours a day and I'll be working from home.

Last week I was at the hospital in Debrecen for my second checkup. Although my white blood cells have dropped a little, things are fine. I no longer have to take antibiotics or the antifungal medication. The next checkup will be on day 102 where they will check cancer markers and take a bone marrow sample, Since I was MRD negative before the transplant it's unlikely that I have relaspsed. After that, all restrictions on food, masks, sharing a bedroom and being around people will be dropped! And then the real fun can start!

What am I looking forward to most?

Sitting in a café and enjoying a nice coffee.

Reading list
Coaching Agile Teams, Lyssa Adkins (Jam packed full of advice for Agile practioners)
Getting to Yes (Negotiation)
Agile YouTube playlist
Anticancer
Kanban in Action
Fun Retrospectives
The Perfect Team (NY times)
The Scrum Master Toolbox podcasts

Day 61:

Arise my inner data geek

A lot of time has passed since my transplant now: 61 days to precise. I know this because I document everything!

Really, I do. Today I started my 5th notebook since the end of June.

I start my day with a coffee and writing up the double page template which has evolved over the last few months, and continue to do so, to meet my needs. I track what I eat; my medication; how much I drink; exercise; any physical issues I'm experiencing and my goals for the day. I've gone full geek with the food bit and have codes for processed food (*), meat and eggs (underlined), fruits and vegetables (boxed) so that I can easily identify the data to put into excel and calculate if I'm meeting my 5-a-day (I am: it's 7.5), and the variety of fruits, vegetables and pulses per week (26 types). The things you learn from data! I've never eaten more healthily. But I'm farting like a dog!

But how is it to be home?

The first few days were tough. Conditions at home had to be very strict: I have my own room and bathroom which Katie spends 1-1.5 hours every evening cleaning. I have to change my sheets every two days. I have to eat all of my food in my room. All of my food has to be freshly made. I can only drink bottled or boiled water. I have to wear a mask and linen gloves outside of the room. All of this is to minimise the risk of infection.

The first days were hard because I was fully dependent on Katie, if I wanted anything to eat or drink I had to ask. I felt like a burden. I couldn't help out with anything. I could see Katie getting very stressed with the many things she needed to do and it was hard to watch her struggling.

In a short time though, I was getting more involved at home. I've been making meals, finding small ways I can help with cleaning even though I'm not allowed to do the big cleaning. I play a lot with the girls, although we get them to put a mask on too when we're really close. Last week, we kept Rosie out of kindergarten as Scarlet Fever was going around, so we spent a lot of time together. That felt good.

Exercising the body and the mind

I've been walking a lot. Although it has been a very cold winter. I've been listening to audio books on the walks. I loved My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk, but was less impressed by On the Road by Jack Kerouac, though I think I would have loved it 15 years ago.

I'm also reading a little: I just finished a biography of the cycling legend Eddy Merckx, catching up on my old Granta magazines, and reading a fascinating book which my sister Lizzie gave me in the Summer, Anticancer. This book has triggered a lot of changes that I am making to my life, mostly around diet. It is written by a doctor who had cancer, he covers three main areas which have an impact on cancers: the diet, the environment and the mind. As a result I'm eating more fruit and veg than ever, eating less meat and cooking more, which I love!

Last week I started cycling again. This was the thing I'd been looking forward to most, and I don't want to linger long here because I'm going to jump on my indoor trainer soon to do a virtual ride on the Pacific Ocean Road in California :) Last week I rode 6 days, 30 minutes each time. I'm excited about getting fitter, and can't wait to be able to train harder and longer. But I need to take it easy first, which is probably my biggest challenge!

Back to work?

I won't be able to go back to the office until I'm past day 100. I'll be getting a detailed inspection around this time: blood and bone marrow. This is the time it takes for an immune system to recover, although it can take longer. I have been for one checkup, 3 weeks ago, and have another next week. I learnt little in the checkup other than I am doing fine, my white blood cells are below normal levels for a healthy person, but that's all.

I will probably return to work sooner, working remotely and part time, but I'm in no rush. I want to use this opportunity to get fitter, stronger, and use the time to learn new things. All this before adding the stress of work to my day and making it harder to do other important things.

The last days in hospital before going home

It's been a while. I'm home and have been for almost two weeks, but quite frankly: I haven't been in the mood to write anything: life is happening.

The last days in hospital passed easily: my white blood cell production increased rapidly and I was out of the sterile room on 14th December. Two days later I was released. In the interim, I shared a room with a guy who was struggling, and whose mood was really low. He slept most of the day and watched TV from morning until night. Without headphones I couldn't practice my Swedish, watch videos or listen to music, which was frustrating, however I was able to write this little poem to Amy and Rosie. On the positive side: I could move around, use a flushing toilet (instead of washing from a bucket) and have a shower (instead of washing from a bowl).

I also met the lady who had been my neighbour whilst in the sterile room. I had only known her from her coughing and some muffled talking. She told me that it had made her happy when she had heard me whistling. That felt good to hear. I'd probably been whistling Monty Python's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life". I'll never regret spending half of my waking hours as a teenager watching The Life of Brian with my best friend, Stuart. It seems to have embedded itself in my psyche, as I have usually had a positive outlook.

It turns out that the transplant really did go very well: my body reacted quickly, and I had had only very minor side effects. One nurse told me that the way I got through it was, "one in a hundred". Later I sent my discharge papers to my haematologist in Budapest, whose reply was very encouraging:

"the two main points are that you went into transplant MRD negatively and it went well, these two together are highly suggestive of a very good outcome."

Himalaya

My friend Suzi set me this challenge a couple of days ago, it was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. A really good and satisfying challenge which I grappled with for almost 2 days.

• Write a poem that rhymes that will make your kids smile.
• It must have at least eight rhyming lines.
• It must teach them something without them realising (even if that is that dad ain't no poet!) 

Himalaya

In the land of the yak, where the mountains are high,

And the skies are a beautiful blue.

Off we went for a walk, your sweet mummy and I,

Trying hard not to step in yak poo!

We saw views in this, the most amazing of lands,

Which your daddy still dreams of today.

And we drank from the river, ate our food with our hands,

For "dal bhat" should be eaten that way!

We looked up at the stars in the dark mountain sky,

And we both made a wish as one fell,

Can you guess what your mother's wish was? Can you try?

Let me say: mine came true! And I'll tell!