Chapter 3 – Treatment options to the forefront

Merino sheep, Cardrona Valley, New Zealand
Ice bow and fence at the Snow Farm, Cardrona, New Zealand

Revisiting One of My Passions

After undergoing surgery to remove a tumor in my groin, I had to take a break from my usual routine and focus on recovery. Healing after surgery is best not rushed! During that time, I realized that I was adjusting to a new way of life, but I wasn’t quite sure what that meant. I knew I needed to put in more work to figure it out.

After a month of rest, I was finally able to explore the mental health benefits of winter sports. My favourite: cross-country skiing. Not only is it a great way to improve physical fitness, but it also helps to eliminate negative thoughts by flooding our system with chemicals associated with joy and well-being.

Overall, I’ve found that returning to one of my passions has been instrumental in my healing process. It’s helped me to stay positive and focus on the things that matter most in life.

Time Line of This Chapter:

  • Again winter > springtime > and then into the Austral summer of 2017-18
  • Recovery from surgery – passive nothingness. Or passive passion!?!
  • Active recovery from surgery through to engaging the season and environment – enhancing mental attitudes
  • Call to adventure – destiny summons us. To a zone unknown (well actually just messing about on snow for now)
  • A surreal opening to another. A sometimes personal, sometimes benign energy everywhere that supports our journeys.
  • Bucket list stuff.
  • Feelings – one of the mob.
  • Amulets against the dragon forces – books/mentors etc.
  • The all-powerful, all encompassing entry to recovery. First sit-down, with a registrar oncologist – Dunedin Hospital based.
  • Naming something rare, with a need for speed
  • Another amulet – a cell phone number.
  • Oncology counseling referral (Dunstan Hospital in Clyde – one hour drive away).
  • What not to do!
  • A series of tests/decisions/tasks to be grappled with
  • Road blocks that delay visits to doctors
The Snow Farm, New Zealand

Initially, I skied in the vicinity of the Lodge at the Snow Farm in Cardrona, New Zealand, as I was getting used to a new camera I had acquired.

Snow Farm River Run

Pretty soon I was able to go further afield. My favourite tour is the River Run, down to the headwaters of the Meg river.

On the Cromwell to Queenstown road you’ll find the Meg enters the Kawarau Gorge. This is right by the car park at the Roaring Meg power station. The Gorge is a tributary of the Clutha River.

Coaching at the Snow Farm, New Zealand

As I proceeded to tear up the slopes near the Lodge at the Snow Farm in Cardrona, New Zealand, I could feel a sense of normality being restored. I couldn’t quite remember if I had told any of my skiing buddies about what I had been going through. Nevertheless, I was beginning to appreciate the importance of social contact as a key component of a healthy life, alongside regular exercise.

Bob Lee Hut

Before long, a perfect storm of factors came together to entice me into a little adventure: my body was feeling stronger, the full moon was out, and the weather was just right for a ski tour. I decided to make the most of the opportunity.

I arrived at my favourite Bob Lee hut just as the sun was setting, giving me the chance to take some stunning photos. After that, I enjoyed a late meal and prepared for my journey back in the darkness, guided by the rising moonlight.

Skiddo at the Snow Farm, Cardrona, New Zealand

However, a significant event occurred on my way to Bob Lee. One of my friends who works at the ski area saw me and stopped on her skidoo. She had noticed a change in my energy and demeanor and asked if everything was okay.

Without thinking, I found myself blurting out the whole story – or at least a shortened version of it. Looking back on that surreal moment, I realized that sharing my experience in an unexpected setting was actually quite therapeutic and helped me to process my emotions.

The Dart River in Mt Aspiring National
Park. Entering Lake Wakatipu.

All too soon, the snow began to recede as spring arrived. I decided to take advantage of the warmer weather and traveled extensively throughout the lower South Island. I was determined to check off items on my bucket list and have some fun along the way.

Martyr Saddle. Where there is a viewpoint overlooking the Cascade Valley. South Westland
A World Heritage site

How did I feel:

Feeling like one of the mob dispossessed of health, I experienced a profound sense of grief over the loss of my well-being. Despite feeling vulnerable, I also noticed a growing sense of calm within me. I had an inclination to not become attached to anything and to remain an empty vessel.

To achieve this state, I found it helpful to treat all incoming information as provisional and to avoid becoming too opinionated. I realized that being opinionated does not necessarily engender a sense of contentment – but I also recognized that this is just my personal opinion.

When we’re open to serendipity this is what can happen:

During my time working for the Department of Conservation and NZ Alpine Club at Aspiring Hut in the National Park of the same name, I had the pleasure of meeting a few wonderful families who were enjoying their vacation in some great weather. Among them was a gentleman who had designed his own electric wheelchair and made the journey to the hut in it – a remarkable achievement!

We stayed in touch through Facebook, and one day, he noticed a picture I had posted and asked if he could use it as the cover for his new book. I was thrilled to donate it.

Then one day, right in the middle of the above discussed changes in my life, a “thank you” copy arrived. It was uplifting to say the least. It was very useful to read about how others dealt with big changes and challenges regards health.

If you’re looking for an uplifting and inspiring book “The Art of Recovery” is one I highly recommend. Published by the NZ Spinal Trust

House Keeping Stuff with a Technical Flavour:

🔎 In the spring of 2017, I was summoned to Dunedin Hospital and met with a registrar who was a newcomer in training. I had been diagnosed with mantle cell lymphoma, a rare type of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma that was at Stage 4A. I was given a life expectancy of 37 months until “curtain time,” and I sympathized with the messenger who had to deliver the news.

Our first discussion was brief, and I could tell that he was still learning. He presented two treatment options along with extensive documentation. However, I felt a sense of urgency and wanted to expedite the process.

The first option was the Nordic Protocol, a rigorous treatment that required me to spend a few nights in the hospital every 28-day cycle. The second was a milder option. The prospect of spending time in the hospital was overwhelming, so I opted to not think much about this for the moment.

During the meeting, an experienced nurse was present, and at the end of it, she gave me her cell phone number. We agreed to text messaging as a form of support, and I felt relieved knowing that I could reach out to her whenever I needed to. It was a wonderful gesture that sent a strong signal of care and support, which is critical for healing.

I was also advised not to Google my disease, and it turned out to be wise advice. Instead, I was provided with appropriate URLs linked to well-balanced and reliable information about my condition.

What not to do:

As I sit here, I’m reminded of something that my local doctor mentioned to me, and it’s crucial to share.

When we receive a diagnosis and develop a plan of action with the help of specialists, we often make significant changes to our lifestyle or diet. But despite our best efforts, the disease can continue to progress, and we may feel like we haven’t done enough or let ourselves down.

It’s important to remember that our thoughts can significantly influence our immune system. So, it’s essential to avoid beating ourselves up and to recognize that sometimes, even with our best efforts, the disease may continue to progress. The key is to keep a positive mindset and do everything we can to support our bodies and minds in the healing process.

It’s also important to seek support from loved ones, friends, and medical professionals who can provide guidance and encouragement. Remember, healing is a journey, and it’s okay to take one step at a time and adjust our approach as needed.

So, if you’re feeling overwhelmed, be kind to yourself and seek out the help and support you need. And always remember that your thoughts and attitude can make a significant difference in your healing journey.

Decisions I decided to make:

I started meditation. Athletes have used visualisation techniques for many years to great advantage. I’ll write more about this topic later.

During my treatment, there were many decisions to make. Time seemed to be of the essence, and the idea was to prepare for a rough ride – to either get well or otherwise.

One item was at the top of my list: how to handle many possible nights in the hospital during treatment (if I chose the more intense one on offer)!?

When I was younger, I spent an extraordinary amount of time in the hospital for unknown reasons. Although I don’t have any personal photos of that time in Oamaru Hospital, I did find this on the North Otago Museum Facebook page. It sums up how it was, and I’ll swear I once played with the toy on the left. The faces trigger some hazy memories! It wasn’t all bad, but it was confusing. I was dropped off at the door amongst strangers by my parents, there were rigid visiting hours, and scary smelly unknown things all around. I felt trapped!

Back then, this experience created an unsettling sense of abandonment, even though my parents were very loving (and this can cause dissociation). The experience often involved sharing a room with four beds with older men. One was there for a quick surgery, another for a few days to establish a diagnosis, and the other to die. Even as a young child, I could tell which was which!

The sense of establishing a victim mentality was something I had not bought into, a long time ago. These experiences have made me who I am, and for this, I am grateful. No one has had a perfect childhood, and mine was pretty damn good compared to many.

So, I decided that counselling would be a good idea. I texted my new nurse and asked for some local recommendations. Her reply was, “I don’t know of anyone in Wanaka, but we can do that. I’ll organise a referral – I think there is someone at Dunstan Hospital” (an hour’s drive away for me). In due course, I found myself getting the help and insights I needed.

Looking back, this decision was the best one I made during this rushed period. It triggered a deep sense of appreciation, out of which flowed self 💗 love and the very seeds of a few possible ideas.

Is pushing through mentally – Good or Bad?

In the pursuit of our goals, it’s common to encounter obstacles that can push us to our limits physically and mentally. For many, the instinct is to grit their teeth and push through the pain to achieve their objectives. However, is this approach always the best for our health and well-being?

Careys Hut in winter.

A personal experience highlighted this question for me. Several weeks before my diagnosis, I went on a mountain biking trip with a close friend to Mavora Lakes in northern Southland. Despite my physical struggles during the trip, I attributed it to age and pushed through it. Looking back, I realized that this was not the right approach.

The track was very muddy and wet

It dawned on me that individuals who are not as physically inclined as I am would have likely stopped or sought medical attention if they didn’t feel well. Instead, I had gritted my teeth and pushed through the pain, which had cost me valuable time. However, the experience did help me later on when I had to engage my mental strength to overcome the challenges that came with my diagnosis.

So, is pushing through mentally good or bad for your health? The answer is not straightforward. There are times when pushing through can lead to positive results, especially when facing challenges that require mental strength. However, there are also situations when pushing through can lead to long-term negative consequences, especially when dealing with physical ailments.

Therefore, it’s important to listen to your body and know when to push through and when to take a break or seek medical attention. Sometimes, pushing through can be harmful, and we need to know when to take a step back to avoid further damage to our health.

In conclusion, while pushing through mentally can be advantageous in certain situations, it’s crucial to strike a balance between mental and physical health. We should learn to recognize the signs of when to push through and when to rest and seek medical attention. Ultimately, our health should always be our top priority.

Take Home” Points on Living with a Chronic Illness:

Living with a chronic illness can be a challenging experience. It can impact every aspect of your life, from your physical health to your emotional well-being. Through my own experience, I have gathered some take-home points that I hope can be helpful to others who may be going through a similar situation.

  • Follow your passion: Pursue what makes you happy and fulfilled, no matter what it is. It can provide a sense of purpose and joy in life.
  • Unloading to an empathetic other is okay: Choose wisely who you confide in, and don’t hesitate to seek support and comfort from those you trust.
  • Bucket lists are good fun: Create a list of things you’ve always wanted to do and make an effort to achieve them, no matter how small or big they are.
  • Acknowledge grief: Allow yourself to feel and process grief as it comes. Don’t fight it or suppress it, as it can make things worse.
  • Desist Googling: Avoid using the internet as a substitute for professional medical advice. Instead, read good books for ideas and inspiration, as they usually have professional editors.
  • Ease into treatment options: Take your time to explore your options and make informed decisions. Treating them provisionally can be calming and help ease anxiety.
  • Don’t be hard on “self”: If the disease progresses, don’t blame yourself, even if you have made significant changes to your lifestyle and beliefs.
  • Seek counseling: If you feel that you need additional support or guidance, consider seeking counseling from a licensed professional who can help you cope with the emotional and mental toll of the illness.
  • Get regular health checks: As we age, it’s important to get regular health checks, even for things that seem small or insignificant. Mention any oddities or changes in your health that you may have previously ignored or attributed to aging.

In conclusion, living with a chronic illness is not easy, but it doesn’t have to be a lonely journey. Seeking support, taking care of your emotional and mental health, and making informed decisions can make a significant difference in how you manage the illness and your quality of life.


If you landed on a single post instead of the Home Page then click here please to go to Home >>

BTW current state of health, as of June 2021, is pretty good!

The next post/chapter will be titled something like, “Let’s Wait and Watch”

If you would like an email notification for new posts coming up (at least a doz. planned), then please leave your details here

The content presented on the site is in no way intended as medical advice. Or as a substitute for medical treatment. Guidance from your doctor or other health care professional should always be sought. Be involved with them on all levels.

All photos on this site are my own. With the very odd exception, and attribution is acknowledged on them where possible. To see/ purchase photos from my wanderings, they’re at PicFair >>

Chapter 2 – An Exact Diagnosis then Skiing Mindful of the Dead

Sunset from the Snow Farm cross country ski area, Cardrona, New Zealand

The Morning After Surgery:

I was surprised that the anesthetic didn’t have any negative effects on me. It’s a testament to how technology has advanced!

Feeling well enough, I decided to travel back home the next morning and reward myself with a new camera. I thought, “If I die soon, I may as well enjoy myself by being creative.” Alternatively, I saw it as a win-win situation, using the camera to inspire hope for a healthy future.

Winter on Hawkdun Mountains, Maniototo, Central Otago, New Zealand

My first image with the new camera was symbolic of hope, which can reduce anxiety, trauma, and depression. It also helps build our resilience to get through tough times.

◀The Hawkdun Mountains that form the northern border of the rather vast Maniototo – leading into Central Otago.

Time Line of This Chapter:

  • The Austral winter of 2017. July through until Nov.
  • The surgeon’s instructions
  • A reward
  • Finally I ski some trails, aware of two universes. Ghosts even.
  • Multitudes of diverse feelings
    • How did I feel
  • Annoying aches
  • Many tests before a diagnosis
    • Technical Stuff
  • Too many decisions needing speedy resolution (or so I thought)

The mountains of Wanaka New Zealand

Although surgery can buy time by slowing down a cancer, the recovery process was long. The surgeon’s instructions were explicit: no activity or movement, not even short walks around the house, for a month. Any exercise could cause lymphatic liquid to leak into surrounding tissue, requiring the patient to need a bag, like a colostomy bag, to drain.

All I could do for the month was look at the snow on the nearby mountains. And at least look forward to being in them – soon, if I was a patient patient! And well looked after by Robyn, who kept me honest whenever I got restless for exercise.

The Snow Farm cross country skiing area, Cardrona Valley, New Zealand

In terms of snow, New Zealand winters are relatively short. However, the initial doctor’s visit, fine-needle biopsies, and surgery in Dunedin took a few weeks, and I felt like time was running out to go cross country skiing for the season.

The only accessible area in the country was a 40-minute drive away, so as soon as my month of forced inactivity was over, and with no negative consequences, I headed up the hill.

Paradise Ducks. The Snow Farm cross country skiing area, Cardrona Valley, New Zealand

I had only one decision to make: whether or not to go skiing. Walking around on foot could mean putting my foot in a hole hidden by the snow, and possibly causing damage to my small wound. While skiing reduces this risk, I could still fall. Ultimately, I decided to walk only, and left my skis and boots back home to be safe.

The area where I went for a walk was incredibly peaceful, and even the local ducks were never frightened away!

Sun dog at the Snow Farm cross country skiing area, Cardrona Valley, New Zealand

The parking area at the Snow Farm in the Cardrona Valley is located on the other side of a building. As I was hobbling from my truck, a friend spotted me from the deck by the café and called out something like, “get a move on.”

When we met a few minutes later, I explained to him that I had recently undergone surgery. He immediately asked if it was prostate cancer, but I explained that it wasn’t and gave a brief explanation of the surgery I had.

Patterns on the snow at The Snow Farm cross country skiing area, Cardrona Valley, New Zealand

He told me that he had gone through a tough time about 18 months earlier with his own cancer. Seeing him looking so fit and healthy was very encouraging, especially at a time when I needed it most.

As we talked, I remembered that there were others who had skied here and also had cancer but didn’t survive. Despite this, I tried to maintain a sense of humor, and a darker side emerged as I realized that I wouldn’t be meeting the deceased ones.

By the end of the season, I was pleased to find that I was skiing pretty well all over the place, despite not entering the annual Merino Muster race or helping out with marshaling as I had in previous years. I had become very aware of the importance of taking care of myself in terms of energy levels and warmth. Instead, I focused on capturing a few hundred images.

The Merino Muster race is a 42-kilometer cross-country citizens ski race, and the racers are typically of World Cup or Winter Olympic class, and mainly from overseas. I found them very inspiring, but with an average speed of 20 km/hr over that distance, I knew it wasn’t for me.

How did I feel:

After the surgery, the positive outcome was a great boost, but I felt time was running out and a need for speed. During the mandatory month of rest, I realized there was a lot to do, including planning for my family’s future, such as creating a will and noting down passwords. I also started mulling over the possible causes of the disease and had a valid theory worth exploring. Grief (Good Grief, I’d lost my health!)and a need to be less cloistered by support also arose. Realizing this was a turning point, I wanted to handle many aspects solo. Each individual to us all.

Night full moon ski tour at The Snow Farm cross country skiing area, Cardrona Valley, New Zealand

In the latter part of the 2017 Austral winter, my fitness improved dramatically, and I was even able to indulge in my favorite activity of solo ski touring under a full moon. My body and mind loved not having to support a tumor! Additionally, the new camera I had acquired proved to be winter-friendly.

Technical Stuff:

Following my surgery, I received comprehensive care from our health system, which made me feel like royalty.

🔎 The analysis of my removed groin tumor took some time, and I was eventually called to the oncology/hematology department in Dunedin, where the results were disclosed.
At the same time, I was adjusting to a persistent “aching” sensation in my lymphatic system, which runs from my groin to my neck/head and lacks a pump, unlike our circulatory system. I began to realize that engaging in upper body exercises would be beneficial for me.

Decisions I Faced During Treatment:

One of my biggest anxieties during my cancer treatment was deciding who to tell. I debated when to tell my son, but he found out accidentally when he met my friend Robyn on the street in Dunedin after she dropped me off for my first fine needle biopsy.

As time went on, I grew tired of my own story and realized that I didn’t want to treat my cancer as a battle. My doctor explained that patients who adopt a certain level of acceptance tend to have better outcomes. So, I chose a path of “non-passive acceptance.”

If someone were to ask my advice on fighting cancer, I would recommend deciding how much energy to expend. It’s important not to get consumed by the idea of fighting.

It bothers me when I hear an announcer on TV or radio say, “So-and-so died of cancer after a long battle.” This sends a negative message. For too long, the word cancer has been synonymous with impending death. However, there are many different types of cancer, and modern science and technology make remission very possible.

This highlights the problem of lumping a vast variety of cancers together in one prognosis where as  cancers can be very very different beasts. There are so many old beliefs about cancer that are cemented by our society deep into our psychi/brain…things like cancer kills, got to chop it out, …beliefs that are flawed because of the way medical science is now playing god”

Dr Jim Vause – GP emeritus

The word cancer should be banned from the dictionary”

Brian Miller – publisher author www.lifelogs.co.nz  Dunedin

Considering how our thoughts affect our immune system can be beneficial as a disease wears us down.

Summation – my “Take Home” points at the time:

  • Practice self-rewards and gratitude – that we can do this and fuel gratitude
  • Practice Hope!
  • Follow instructions from medical professionals
  • Moderate feelings of having to rush – honour resting.
  • Be reassured, others have gone before us.


If you landed on a single post instead of the Home Page then click here please to go to Home >>

BTW current state of health, as of April 2021, is pretty good!

The next post/chapter will be titled something like, “My first of many meetings with an oncologist”

If you would like an email notification for new posts coming up (at least a doz. planned), then please leave your details here

The content presented on the site is in no way intended as medical advice. Or as a substitute for medical treatment. Guidance from your doctor or other health care professional should always be sought. Be involved with them on all levels.

Chapter 1 – The lead up to Diagnosis

Matukituki Valley, Mt Aspiring National Park. The authors home for a few years.

In the Beginning:

In the early weeks of 2017, it felt like I had been diagnosed with a mystery illness. It took some detective work to figure out the exact flavor of the disease – it was a rare form of mantle-cell lymphoma. It was like a game of Clue, but with a lot more science involved!

I was stuck between a rock and a hard place for a while.

Time Line of This Chapter:

  • The austral winter of 2017 – July through to Oct.
  • Some background leading up to a diagnosis
  • Many tests before the diagnosis
  • How did I feel
  • Technical notes
  • Decision making imminent

Mt Bevan, West Matukituki Valley, Mt Aspiring National Park, New Zealand

My story started with a wobbly knee. I was working for the third time for New Zealand’s Department of Conservation for a six-month period, spanning the summer of 2016-17. The location was the West Branch of the Matukituki Valley in Mount Aspiring National Park, the crown jewel of National Parks and a dream destination for any mountain lover. It was like a fairytale, but with a lot more hiking involved!

Towards the end of my last contract, I developed a wobbly knee, which was a bit alarming in New Zealand’s rugged Southern Alps. For my last walk out for the season, I radioed my workmates to let them know that a modest 4WD rescue might be necessary. However, I never did fall over and the mystery of what was causing it wasn’t revealed for a few more months. It was like a suspenseful movie, but with a lot of solitude involved!

The "Meat" tree by Aspiring Hut, West Matukituki Valley, Mt Aspiring National Park, New Zealand

Plodding alone down the valley in the autumn mist on my last walk out, I came across the “Meat” tree by Aspiring Hut. The tree symbolized the end of a chapter in my life, and the start of a new one filled with health and happiness.

◀ So called because old time deer cullers used to hang their tucker in it “to season”

So-called “front country” tramping had taken off (the new terminology referring to the easy walks in our back country). And the question arose in my mind, “Do I ever want to do this, now overwhelming job, again?”

Looking down West Matukituki Valley, Mt Aspiring National Park, New Zealand. From the Liverpool Hut track

Every day I would interact with lovely people, for sure, but front country types tend to be high maintenance (7am until 10pm) – they’re in an environment new to them and have lots of questions relating to the ticking off of to-do lists (inspired by the internet). These questions usually pertained to weather timing and times to get to other huts.

Discovering a lump in my groin by winter was a bit of a shock. I went to my doctor, who is an old friend and knows me well. The first thing I brought up was my wobbly knee, the second was the lump. After that, the knee got forgotten!

My doctor and I are old friends, so knowing me well he told me the serious truth of the matter, right up front. A blessing – that was what I needed! But of course detail was missing.

I mentioned that after I finished my seasonal job with the Department of Conservation, I had taken several weeks to recover. My doctor replied, “It’s good that you did!” or something similar. Looking back a few months later, I realized this might have been an indicator that the disease was not as aggressive as first thought, but on the other hand, it could be a risky assumption to make.

How did I feel:

  • Felt vulnerable and scared
    • Solution: make an effort to put these aside and deal with clarity, with no wasted energy. Be selective about which emotions to entertain and let ingrained survival skills come to the fore.
  • Felt shocked and indignant – cancer happens to others, not me. Realized sugar habit and emotional health may have played a role.
  • Felt anger briefly, but realized it was useless for personality type.
  • Experienced sudden tears while driving, wanting to be there for my son.
  • Initially held a “victim” persona (“poor me”) which was examined later.
  • Felt desperation and turned to yoga and dietary changes, including reducing sugar and drinking lemon water each morning for hydration.
The old Cadbury Chocolate factory currently being demolished to make way for the new Dunedin hospital

For the moment, the public health system at Dunedin Hospital was running full steam ahead for me. I had a quick surgical procedure to remove my tumor, which and it had been scheduled to happen very quickly.

The old Cadbury Chocolate factory currently being demolished to make way for the new Dunedin hospital.

One Friday, I received a call from a surgeon while I was driving. I pulled over to take the call and he told me that it was urgent to remove the tumor as soon as possible and he had a space available on the Monday. The surgeon also mentioned that his last name was similar to a popular character in a children’s book series, but he assured me that he was much nicer looking and not related.

It turned out that one of my best friends, who was an anesthetist, had worked with my surgeon before and said that he was very good. And indeed, the surgeon was very reassuring and professional prior to the procedure. I was soon taken into the operating room where there were about eight people waiting for me. They started the procedure and I was out like a light before I’d even had a chance to look around.

When I woke up, I was greeted with a welcome tea and sandwiches. I was pleased to find that there were no after effects like queasiness. And I commented on how far the technology has come.

Technical Stuff (Keeping in mind I’m not a doctor! And that at the time I was not only feeling poorly, but the recipient of bad news. Both inhibited my ability to keep track of detail. And frankly it would have served no purpose if I had. Nor would I have understood the detail.)

Before the surgery, I underwent a fine needle biopsy (the sample was too small) and a bone marrow biopsy, which revealed evidence of the disease. I also had some blood work done (which was okay) and a CT scan to help define locations and likely reveal other critical information. Additionally, I had a manual hands-on examination of my immune system circulatory areas and associated places, such as my neck, chest, armpits, groin, and stomach, to look for lumps. Various lumps of various sizes were found.

Each test was reviewed and signed off by the appropriate specialist. I later saw the resulting email that contained the collated information and it was very long and technical, which was reassuring.

🔎 Within days of the surgery, the type of disease I had was identified. The next step was outlining the treatment plan options. I also noticed that my knee was feeling better after the surgery and realized that the tumor must have been pressing on a nerve.

A summation and decisions I thought I had to make at the time:

  • Who to tell about my diagnosis, if anyone, and when?
  • Whether to approach my treatment as a battle or not
  • What changes I need to make in order to survive and become healthy
  • How to best prepare for the future while staying present in the moment
  • Who would be willing and able to support me
  • What I should do first to address my diagnosis and treatment plan

If you landed on a single post instead of the Home Page then click here please to go to Home >>

The next post/chapter will be titled something like, “Skiing with humor with those who are now dead”

If you would like an email notification for new posts coming up (at least a doz. planned), then please leave your details here

The content presented on the site is in no way intended as medical advice. Or as a substitute for medical treatment. Guidance from your doctor or other health care professional should always be sought. Be involved with them on all levels.

All photos on this site are my own. With the very odd exception, and attribution is acknowledged on them where possible. To see/ purchase photos from my wanderings, they’re at PicFair >>



Introduction

Please note that the information presented on this site is not intended as medical advice and should not be used as a substitute for professional medical treatment. Always seek guidance from your doctor or healthcare professional.

As you explore the techniques and mindsets discussed on this site, we encourage you to approach them with an open mind, a sense of curiosity, and a focus on your personal well-being. Evaluate each concept with care and a sense of fun and wonderment.

Discover how positive attitudes and small, gradual steps can bring about meaningful change and lead to the best possible outcomes. Join us on this journey and let’s explore the power of the mind together.

Countless friends and family and medical professionals (oncology in Dunedin Hospital) are helping me on this journey.

Acknowledgements: I can’t speak highly enough of my […]

First published on 19 Feb. 2021, from Wanaka, New Zealand.

If you’ve landed here looking for likeminds.org.nz, a site dedicated to mental health in New Zealand, then click here >>

Welcome to LikeMinds, a platform for those seeking to deepen their understanding of life and mental health. Our story is rooted in the New Zealand outdoors and begins in 2014, but it takes a sharp turn with a sudden and unexpected lymphoma diagnosis.

Join us as we share our journey of navigating the complexities of mental health and physical wellness in the face of a rare form of lymphoma. Our aim is to provide support and inspiration for others facing similar challenges and to shed light on the power of the mind in the healing process.


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