Tag Archives: Brain Tumor

Running the Challenge

It is an easy excuse, but the winter months prove a challenge for my running and fitness endeavours. Up to the end of May I have been on the road and muddy tracks several times per week, taking the dogs with me to satisfy their feverish needs to explore the close-by vineyards and our local forest area. My fitness was on a positive upwards curve and I felt in good form. But June and July saw a white flag instead of running shoes. It had been tough in the cold and wet mornings and by the time I arrive home in the evenings, the sun had long gone to warmer climates.

At least there were a couple of runs, in the hope to hold on to some shape of good intention and a tad of fitness. Last Thursday, due to some misunderstanding of dates and days, I accidently had the day off. Loved it for having to do neglected odd bits on my own, but income-wise inconvenient timing. However, it provided me time to take the dog’s running harnesses off the shelf and to enjoy the flood of energy and excitement when they heard the little metal clips calling. To them this is a calling to an hedonistic hour, the pleasure of exploring the outside wilderness where grapes and pine trees grows, where smells and unexpected encounters of fellow canines are “like the best thing ever dude“. Off we went. They loved it. I suffered. The 7.4 km earthy tracks killed my enthusiasm and entered the disappointment of failing in my exercise aspirations.

Tiger Trail J-hoek 2013 II

Luckily there are second chances. Yesterday I took on the tarmac up Blaauklippen Road, past several vineyards and wineries. Running on my own is probably a bit selfish towards my usual running companions. But it allows me to focus on my pace, my posture and to focus on well known distant markers along the way. Crossing the Blaauklippen stream is at 1.4 km. The sign past a small restaurant is my 2.5km turning point when I do 5 km short run. But I had the strength to carry on. Pass the Blouklip turn-off (useful for my Strava challenge) and up the steep circle climb towards Dornier, Kleinnood and Waterford. A good run and knowing that heading back, long stretches of downhill awaits.

There are several things I take away from a good run, like yesterday’s. I completed 8 kilometres and ran it at a satisfying pace (recall of recent laziness). It provides a sense of achievement and knowing I can shake of those couple of extra annoying numbers the bathroom scale throws in my face. But more, it provides comfort. Knowing that I can run, despite past seizures and that bugger of a tumour. That there is always a way to get back up when you feel down and out, or when live gets too comfortable under the warm winter blankets. The challenge is to run and I have to run those challenges. Not against anyone, but for myself and for my family. To stay well and healthy.

Another run coming up in 23 minutes’ time. Not one for the running shoes or with our beautiful dogs. A MRI Brain Scan awaits. A different challenge, but one I can’t shy away from. So wish me luck as off I go.

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UnreLenting

There may different reasons why a blogger may be neglecting his patch in blogger-world. It could be due to changes in his or life, such as improved health, a career move or another family member arriving. It may due to unfortunate events, such as poor health, strain from being a caregiver or increased commuting time. In my case, it has been due to working hard again. Actually, I want to label it. I have been blessed with the ability to work in my profession following the visit from a brain tumour, a craniotomy (to remove it) and a couple of seizures.

I am well aware that some of my fellow travellers, survivors and fighters followed a similar path of recovery, but some have not been so fortunate while others are slowly finding their feet in the lives they embraced before. I may be incorrect in my recall of Freud stating that the two meaning activities in life are sex (i.e. meaningful relationships) and work. In part I agree as I have seen the consequences of the lack of these and how it can add to experiences of anxiety and depression. However I prefer the idea from the old Jewish wisdom writers (from the book, “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” by Harold S. Kushner) that a meaningful life involves, “To live, to love, to learn and to leave a legacy“.  But meaningful living does not only mean saying yes to what is good and beautiful. It also requires the ability to say “no”.

What I found beneficial is to have structure in utilising the gift of saying “No” to myself or “No thank you” to others. For me Lent provides such a structure, given that it is time dedicated (amongst other things) on sacrifice. It is not only within the Christian tradition that the concept of fasting and sacrifice is embedded. Within Muslim (Ramadan), Jewish (e.g. Yom Kippur), Buddhist and Hindu (e.g. Shivaratri) faith traditions times are allocated to focus on abstinence and celebration. These are often based upon remembrance of historical events or in preparation for festivals or significant events within the religious tradition.

Red Red WineSo my commitment for Lent 2015 involved giving up alcohol and sugar. 40 days without while I live among the beautiful vines and wineries of the Western Cape in South African and I savours the flavours, tastes and quality of a good Shiraz, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. So to pass on the enjoyment of these felt quite daunting. However alcohol was the easy part.  But I realised how deceptively sugar creeps into our relationship with food. Even though I run often, eat healthy, don’t drink soda drinks and in general have a limited sweet tooth (a black Americano, no sugar kind of guy), I caught myself a few times popping something sweet into my mouth. Realisation 1: Abstinence requires focus.

Realisation 2: Sacrifice comes with benefits.  This not includes losing weight and saving a bit of money. On a deeper level it provided an understanding of what I am capable to  do and that the ability to say no does not have catastrophic consequences. It taught me the worth of keeping the balance between yes and no, between please and no thank you. Sacrifice does not only exclude foreign substances, but it challenges our internal dialogues about wants and needs.

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Can Whales get Tumours?

Off the coast of South Africa, at least 37 species of whales and dolphins can be found. This fact blows me away. 37 species?  Most of these (especially the whales) are found in the about 500 kilometre stretch between Cape Town and the Garden Route. Tthe most famous are the southern right whales, humpback whales, and several coastal dolphin species. These are joined by African penguins and Cape fur seals, with the obvious big and small human shapes enjoying the seawater and surf.

A few blogs ago I mentioned a visit to a small town called Betty’s Bay (not far from Hermanus, the whale capital of South Africa). It was here that I experienced one of those amazing life affirming whale moments. I was standing outside on the stoep (our local word for porch) when I suddenly saw a black movement in the water. I just yelled, “Whale!” to get my family’s attention, grabbed my camera and run down towards the sea for a close-up shot. Now, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, I leave you with 2 recommendations. (1) Familiarise yourself with the territory and (2) Footwear, footwear, footwear. Unbeknown to me was that the 50 meter between me and the shoreline included a gravel road (the easy bit), thick undergrowth of fijnbos and surprisingly a stream (due to a lot of recent rain). That was even before the rocks that provided the soundtrack to the experience and lifted a salty taste and smell into the air. This short, but tricky, distance was made complicated by my foot attire. The old faithful pair of Fatface flip-flops was getting slippery and muddy, making my rock scramble probably amusing to look at, but not fun when trying to run in a whale.

My guide in all this was Anneén standing on the stoep lookout. Shouting directions and pointing to where to scramble. I then realised that “nearer” does not translate into “better view”. Every now and then I would see water spurting out, a black back or bit of tail. It was a truly amazing experience that I tried to capture on camera. However, each photo appeared like an ocean still-life, with no evidence of whale. To make matters worse, when I returned home, I was informed that there were 2 whales … I did even not notice the second.

The next day in Hermanus, we had breakfast with the most amazing backdrop. Not only did we have a 180 degree ocean view, but we could see several whales (or bits of them) in the bay. Some swimming with new offspring; showing of their tails and playfulness. Luckily they were far enough away for me to even attempt to catch them on film!

Do whales get ill, do they get tumours?

I do not know. I have heard that they can get (oddly enough) dolphin pox and arthritis. Elsewhere I read that a whale stranding might be due to a boat injury or brain parasitism. However, the appearance of a very young whale on the beach with no sign of disease might be due to separation from its mother.

In the 1978 a book called “The Tumor in the Whale” was published. Rather than it being a collection of medical or marine scientific facts, it is about urban myths and legends. Its author Rodney Dale, a collector of mythical stories, referred to whale meat being sold in wartime England when other meats were scarce. The details of a “specific” person finding a tumour in his meat are quite gross (I would rather not repeat it ) and might be behind the rhyme, “Whale meat again; Don’t know where, don’t know when …” This is referred to as a ‘whale-tumor story’. In essence it’s a wild story with no truth behind it. The type of thing that happens to a friend of a friend of a friend.

A true whale story happened to us in 2008 while we were visiting my in-laws (we were still living in the UK at the time). Early one morning the local radio station reported that a whale beached nearby overnight. We took the kids and set off to witness this first hand. It was a truly amazing experience, obviously filled with sadness. The gentle giant looked healthy, almost as if sleeping. The only sign of injury or trauma was a small wound next to his right eye. Local fishery experts did not feel that it could have been the cause for its demise.

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From the outside, nothing else appeared out of place. Apart from it being a whale on the sand. And it not sleeping. It was still a memorable experience, to be able to touch a whale’s skin, to get a perspective on how small we are next to him/her and how these giants of the sea can be so vulnerable.

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Moments like these tend to draw us away from, out of ourselves. The moment that we encounter something different, unusual or beautiful. Events that place things in a new context or perspective. How we are small insignificant particles or how we can be instrumental in change and something bigger. These experiences can be quite mundane, like watching a gecko climbing up a wall. Someone walking past you smiling while listening to their iPod or the early morning sunrays reflecting off the dewdrops of vineyard leaves. It can be as life changing as the news that a healthy baby is coming. The beauty in these moments, even if they contain an element of sadness, touches something deep inside me. Feeling removed and connected with something so different. While knowing they must have their own moments of joy and suffering, their own experiences of anxiety or encounters with beauty.

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