14. Lucky 13

(Engaged - Drew & Alana, Jen and Dawsie)

I kicked off my last post hoping to report the progress of my Bone Marrow donor and I was also hoping to prove that 13 isn't always an unlucky number. It's funny how irony has played a part in the last 8 1/2 months...

On a busy M8 motorway between Edinburgh and Glasgow, my car was full with my boss and the stench of Glenlivet after a busted bottle (gotta love the airport luggage handlers). We were heading back home after a rather productive day on the road and as usual my phone started ringing...the display read 'call' so I assumed it must be a drunk aussie mate giving me a call in the middle of their night. With my boss in the car, I decided to let the message bank kick in and opted not to let him hear the boozy slur. I picked up the phone and listened to my message, clearly expecting a chuckle...

The message I received was something I'd be waiting a long time to hear but still caught me off guard - I'm not at all impatient with the docs but very keen to hear about my bone marrow news. After the initial chat about a DQ antigen mismatch...righto, what on the earth does that mean?? I started probing and persisted with the questions. I knew that the Professor wouldn't recommend going down the transplant route if the match wasn't at least an 8/10. My matched was confirmed that I have a possible 9 1/2 to 10/10 match! All of this news was being taken in on the 13th June. Not a bad number...

I had my PCR test (very sensitive blood test) taken today at the Glasgow hospital. After my relatively slow start (14% at 3 months - 7% at 6 months), this PCR test will hopefully fill the doctors in with what going on with me and how my body is reacting to Gleevec. The key for the specialists is to gain the maximum result within 12 months as this will determine alot of things, including life expectancy. It's just a good feeling to know that I have options now and a Bone Marrow transplant may be a road we go down. The results will be back within 3 weeks and this will hopefully make things a little less hazy for us...

The training for the Glasgow to Loch Lomond Bike Ride is going well - the ride is on Sunday 25th June so this should be a good starter for the Glasgow to Edinburgh Ride I've somehow put my name down for. 50 miles seems like a fair hike, even more so as my rides haven't taken much further than Greggs pastry shop and the hospital for the random test whilst I pi*s off a few bus drivers as I hog their lane. I have had a few stern words from my wife and mum, therefore I've donned the helmet and attempting to stick to the cycle lanes.

The Australia trip has been all sorted - booked and paid for! I just can't wait to go home for a couple of weeks and soak up some December rays. Drew and Alana are getting married in the Barossa Valley (wine region just outside Adelaide - near Jacobs Creek) and it's somewhere I've never been. Will be good to watch the Ashes and hopefully we can snatch the beloved trophy back off the poms - but most of all, I'm really looking forward to seeing my family, mates and my brother Nick and Claire's new wee baby that is due in 2 weeks!!

So right now, I'm a happy man. I've finally got some results that have stopped the string of bad news we seemed to be getting used to. The entire time we have remained 100% positive and were sure if we remain like that, we will eventually be met with some news that'll give us a big boost. The route we take still may be with the CML medication Gleevec but it's just good to know now that there are now options...

(Go Australia in the World Cup! - as I write this, Aussies are top of the table! May not be for long until the Brazilians get hold of us...)

13. The New Bike

(Last day of Sinclair Trip; Matt & Tom at Loch Lomond; Observer Mag)

The waiting continues... I was hoping to find out this week (or last) if I have a matched bone marrow donor but due to the hold up with DNA testing, it seems there is no progress to report. I was also hoping to write the news on my 13th blog update and prove that 13 isn't always an unlucky number...

Things have well and truly settled back into the old routine as they were before the wedding and the honeymoon. All the blood tests have been coming back fine and although my platelets are still a bit on the low side the doc told me I could, if I wanted to, go back on the rugby field and start playing again. Didn't go down too well with my wife, her mum and my mum. Think I'll just keep the boots hanging in retirement and resort to the tipping comps and shouting from the sidelines. The rules with retired players are pretty simple - the older you get, the better you were.

My 2nd PCR test (6 month) came back last week. I was expecting a follow up call from the Professor and she caught me off guard...as I jumped out of the shower, I ran out into the bedroom and picked up my phone whilst dripping on the carpet. I guess I could say the call was both good and bad. The good news is that it had halved from 14% and gone down to 7%...great I thought but something in the tone of her voice meant that it wasn't so good. The concern was that, although it was going down in the right direction, they were hoping for the test to come back with a reading of 2-3%. The dose will remain the same and after another 2 weeks I'll receive another PCR test and then the dreaded bone marrow biopsy using a needle the size of a javelin...

The second Bone Marrow Clinic was also run recently...it was held at a local hospital and the turn out wasn't too bad. Could have been better if there wasn't a fire alarm leaving all the women from the hospital outside checking out the men in yellow.

On the 25th June I've signed myself up for the Anthony Nolan bike from Glasgow to Loch Lomond and before I knew it, I'd been persuaded to join the Pedal for Scotland bike ride (27th August), only finding out later that it's from Glasgow to Edinburgh (a lazy 50 miles). It'd be good to get out on the road and breath in some fresh scottish air I thought...only thing is that I don't even have a bike...time to hit eBay and sort something out. Probably end up cruising across the country on a kids BMX with my eBay skills...

The article that went out in the Observer newspaper last weekend ended up being a great result for both me and the Anthony Nolan Trust. The key message was to increase the amount of people on the donor list and it looks like we were quite successful in doing that. I still have to be hopeful that I will be found a match but the goal is still the same - find everyone that is waiting some new marrow a perfectly matched donor...

"Being a bone-marrow donor is as easy as giving blood. People think it involves some gruesome operation where the marrow is sucked out of your bones. Medication is given for five days to boost stem cells in the bloodstream, then the blood is simply taken out of the vein and the stem cells extracted. It's as easy as that, over in three hours, and you've potentially saved someone from dying of cancer."

12. Starting Gun

It's not what I expected...

As the announcer called the 10km start, a group of us wearing the bright yellow 'Banana Army' shirts were very quickly overtaken. The shoulders immediately jostling to gain full advantage of the first stretch of road before it curled up through the hilly Edinburgh streets. With my dodgy ankle firmly strapped, we leapt into a full power walk as I expected many others to do...only to realise that within minutes we were all alone at the back of the pack being closely followed by the police car and sweeper vehicle (reminds me of being a teenager). We did however proudly fly the Leukaemia research flag and the girls (and Col W) got into action by raising even more cash to add to what was already raised. The total before the starting gun was at £2,345 and with a few mixed coins and some female persuasion, the total crept up to a healthy £2,710. The outcome if the walk/race was that Dawsie and I came 4th last out of 8,000, pipping a few fatties at the line that went out too fast...

The Donor Day in London was a clear success. After a huge effort from staff at Pernod Ricard the day finally went ahead after many flyers, emails and bribes... We hoped to add at least 14 to the Bone Marrow Donor registry after hearing some stats from previous events. The total at close of play was an extra 32 donors. A great effort! With so much going on around me, it was hard at times to concentrate on my work...the emotions creeping up on me every now and then. Bizarre to think that there are 32 people wanting to help out, knowing full well that they could be a match for anyone in the world (or even me).

The 'wedding bliss' has eventually subsided after 7 fully charged and emotional weeks. The aussie crew came and went...my folks were still here when we got back from honeymoon, so good to still have them around and have a bit more time to see the sights (Scottish hills and more hospitals). My 2nd PCR test has been taken and hopefully the results will be back with me within weeks. I know it's completely out of my hands so I'm trying not to think about it...hard sometimes as the 1st result wasn't as good as we had hoped and the dose increase has taken place. I've also been reading quite a few cancer and leukaemia sufferers websites lately. Sufferer was the only word I could think of there...I see myself and others living with it, not suffering... It's good to read the fight and determination others have found within themselves. There's some gutsy people out there. Of course they are all trying to keep people informed of how they are and progress, etc but I've thought that there is some part in us all, that we just want to be remembered. I guess everybody wants to be remembered for doing something, hopefully good but when you get hit with a cancer diagnosis, good prognosis or bad, I think we want to show people what we're made of...if it is striving for inspiration or just to be a good person...

Good news is that Dawsie (best man) and Nina (bridesmaid) have both become engaged since our wedding. Not to each other... It's good to see there are a few more Scot/Aussie weddings coming in the near future. Maybe get another chance to don the 'tartan skirt'...

In the meantime I will keep working hard, try not to eat so many pastries from Greggs (love the steak bake), munching my Gleevec pills and keep my big digits crossed, hoping I will find out by the end of the month if I have an American bone marrow donor...

11. D Day

(The Wedding Party; The Groomsmen; My Bro & Sis, Kas Bro and Sis-in-law; End of the Night; Honeymoon)

I've just worked out that this coming Wednesday will be 6 months since I was diagnosed. I've been thinking about the things that I've faced and learnt in that time - things I would never have imagined. I can't say that it's been negative either; too be honest, there's been a lot of positives. It's been the people that I'm surrounded by and the stories of other people's fight and determination that have kept, and will keep, me positive and ready to tackle the next 6 months. In that time, I've also done one thing that I'm most proud of...getting married on the 25th March to my wee lass...

The day was even better than I could have imagined. The boys all turned up in the morning struggling to find my front door through the Scottish mist and drizzle. After a few rounds of Tiger Woods golf on the playstation, it was time to tackle the kilt situation...6 aussies donning the tartan 'skirt' wasn't so easy. We all managed anyway and before we knew it, the wedding cars had arrived and we were all left standing in the kitchen with a glass of bubbly in our hands; everyone ready and keen to get the day started. Then the unexpected happened...something appeared in the sky, parting the thick clouds as we all walked downstairs. The Scots weren't too sure what it was but before too long we had assured them the yellow ball in the air was the sun -poking it's head out for a look...

My nerves were fine and the excitement was building as I patiently waiting for one o'clock to tick over. The time finally came and myself and my groomsmen were led out to the front stage to await my bride. The minister told me to get used to this... As everyone took their seats and the pipe organ chimed into action, we all keenly anticipated the lady in white. To say she was beautiful was a HUGE understatement! Kas looked unbelievable as Tom lead her to meet me at the altar (not sure why he giggled as he handed me over to her). The ceremony went well...the only time the minister looked at us in a weird way was during one of the hymns when Kas attempted to reach a note so high only dogs could hear her. After 30 minutes of songs, readings, crying and laughter...we were officially married; the lump in my throat slowly receded and the photographer enthusiastically took over.

Again, the reception at Mar Hall was better than I could have hoped for. The yellow ball in the sky stayed out to light up the photos and our closest friends and family got the champers flowing steadily. Even though I'd seen Mar Hall a few times before, I was still taken aback at the way it looked...the bagpiper situated on the side of the Hall made it even more dramatic. The meal went well and it was the only thing to keep my mind off my speech coming up. It was so good to have so many people travel from Oz, Canada and the whole of the UK (and Ireland) to come and see us on our day. It was also good to have the Leukaemia right out of the spotlight and have a day to 'pretend' it wasn't there and things were back to normal. Need to have those days every now and again... All in all, the day was a huge success...the dancefloor was never empty as was the bar, the band kept the party kicking on til the wee hours and everyone ensured both Kas and I had the best day of our life...

After the wedding, you find yourself in a situation wondering how it could get any better and what could follow up to such a good day. Buy that person who invented honeymoons a beer for me! To keep up with the theme of this post, the Maldives was again better than I could have imagined. Two weeks of sun, our own water villa with deck and ladder out to the coral reefs and complete relaxation. To top it off, I was away from the doctors, specialists and hospitals for 2 whole weeks; or so we thought...

After the incident with my ankle a few weeks back, I never knew it was in more need of repair. We'd only been there for 2 days and after some vigorous kicking whilst snorkeling to keep up with some reef sharks and the hundreds of Nemo's, I felt a light twinge in my left ankle. After a night of moaning (from my ankle!) we had to get it sorted out and find out what was happening. A quick trip on the speedboat to the capital, Male, and I was quickly attended to by the doctor followed by a specialist, followed by a radiographer and then another doc to tell me my injury was from the injury not having sufficient time to heal. After a few pain killers and a slap up side the head, we were back out the front of the hospital ready to head back to the boat and continue our honeymoon. However, Fridays in the capital are reserved for men only and it was Muslim prayer day. A few stern words and Kas had her mouth shut. Our Island Guide then informed us we couldn't get a taxi as they are all in praying, leaving walking as our only mode of transport. The crutches couldn't get me that far. The guide then called over his school mate who was milling about on his motorbike and within minutes I was cruising down the back streets of Male on the back of a dodgy motorbike, holding my crutches over my shoulder and realising I have just left my Wife-of-4-days on her own in the middle of a mosque. How was I going to tell Tom I've already lost her?!? Luckily we met up 10 minutes later to continue the bliss. The crutches were soon ditched and we enjoyed the remainder of our holiday in the Maldives and Dubai secretly hoping this would last forever...

Now we're back and ready for the next chapter of our lives together. The following months are full of activity. My 2nd PCR (very sensitive blood test) is coming up in two weeks to determine how well I am going with my medication, followed by the trip to the Baby Clinic...not long after I will be running the Edinburgh 10km (May 7th) to raise cash for Leukaemia research, results of the PCR test, the Donor Recruitment Clinic in London and then finally I should find out if the American donor is a suitable bone marrow match for me.

All this will be happening over the next 5 weeks and I couldn't imagine facing this without my new wee wife and all the people who have helped me get past this first 6 months...

10. One More Sleep

(Aussies in Edinburgh) - (Stag Weekend)

One more sleep!

The most common question over the past few weeks definetly has been "are you nervous?" The quickfire response was always "no, not at all...I'm just excited". How quick that all changed...

The wedding rehearsal at the church last night was the start of fresh emotions rising to the surface. The coolness is leaving. The smile was forced to cover up the sweaty palms and shaky leg, luckily noone had noticed. It may sound like I'm scared but it's far from that...it just feels like for the first time in a long time, things are starting to feel 'normal' again. I've just loved the build up and much as I've hated it and as much as I can't wait to hit the hot, sandy beaches of the Maldives, I'm reluctant to give up this 'wedding bliss'. I now understand what that term means. The Leukaemia attempts to raise it's ugly head every now and again but I immediately try to suppress it and ignore the evil cancer lurking under my skin. I can't wait for tomorrow to arrive and see my wee lass walk up the aisle to meet me. Already feels like the best day of my life and it hasn't even arrived yet...

The Stag Weekend went as planned. This segment will stay short - what goes on tour, stays on tour. I can mention that the 14 lads dressed in Old Man attire never once required the beautiful, blonde nurse that came away with us...

The week has gone really well with the Sinclair Clan visiting the many Scottish tourist sites. The Aussies are slowly arriving through the mist of the Glasgow drizzle and making the most of their digital cameras. All this has been happening and being forced to coincide with my search for a bone marrow donor. The Leukaemia 'Connections' Newsletter will have a few things about my situation and on Sunday 23rd April, my story will be in the 'This much I know' segment in the Observer Magazine. The goal remains the same...help the Anthony Nolan Trust to gain as many new donors as possible.

In the next post of mine, I will have a Mrs Sinclair. The smile on my dial has grown from ear to ear. It's funny how history has a habit of repeating itself....about 30 years ago, Karen's mum and dad were sending their beautiful daughter to bed with a dummy - and here they are again tomorrow...

9. Wild Haggis Tour

(Matt and Dawsie at Murrayfield - Scot v Eng)

The countdowns are well and truly underway now!

I say countdowns as I feel I have so many things to look forward to over the coming months. There's definitely been a few hiccups along the way - a few attempts at derailing my optimism and excitement. The Australian crew start arriving next week on the bonny shores of Scotland and for me that is when the holidays begin. From there I am on sightseeing duties, showing friends and family around the country I only realise now how proud of it I am. The castles, lochs, monsters and wild haggis roaming freely in the highlands...

Then it's time to don the kilt (true Scot..) and wait for my bride to walk down the aisle. Am really looking forward to it if you hadn't noticed from my previous posts. I've decided I can have one my first drink since October last year to celebrate...need some dutch courage before I get up and make the speech. Something with more of a kick than Coke or OJ.

...and then finally, 2 weeks away on honeymoon to the Maldives. I'm starting to get a case of Scottish skin so am desperate to tan it back up again.

As the Edinburgh 10km run is coming up in May, I thought that I needed to drag my burger belly out on the roads and get into some sort of training regime. Only 3 runs had passed...I woke in the middle of the night with a pain that felt as though my foot was seizing up and this lasted for a couple of days. I couldn't believe it as I thought I was back to peak health and feeling the best I have in years. Finally the pain got so fierce that Kas took me off to the docs where I expected a prescription of Ibuprofen and a kick up the arse, however...I was told I may have Septic Arthritis from the chemo drugs I am taking and after a quick talk with a Surgeon we were on our way back to the hospital. I'm thinking of getting my own parking spot there. We were rushed in for examination where I was told if it is what the doc thinks, then I will need an urgent operation to flush the bacteria or I could risk losing my ankle joint within 24 hours. Why can't someone just tell my I have a cold? Anyway...after x-rays, watching Kas nearly spew on an old mans gangrene looking foot and a few more check-ups we were finally let away. I think it is tendon damage from running in the baltic Scottish evenings but the specialist just told me what wasn't wrong with it.

The set backs seem to keep rolling in like sick jokes but as I've said all along; we have to stay 100% positive and not let anything get us down. The news of Karen's wedding dress (or the fact they sent the wrong one to her) was almost enough for me to bring the honeymoon forward. Let just hope that she gets a dress and I can walk up the aisle without a dogdy limp...

4th May has now been confirmed and Pernod Ricard are holding a Donor Recruitment Day at the head office in Hounslow...something I am still overwhelmed by. Hopefully we can increase the amount of donors already on the Anthony Nolan database. Obviously I would love a perfect matched donor but that is my secondary goal..I can assure you there are many of people in a similar situation to me that also require a match and that comes to my primary goal; do what I can to increase donors and increase the chance of others finding their perfect donor match. That's why I want to do all that I can to help out the Trust in any way I can (pie eating contest?), and hopefully one day everyone will have a cure.

I'll admit it was bad news but I'm not going to let it beat me or let it ruin the best day of my life...marrying the girl of my dreams in bonny Scotland.

8. Bonnie Countdown

(Matt & Kas) (My freezing Jacobs Creek Mobile in Scotland)

Feels like I'm always waiting for something to happen. I don't think it's a negative thing; sometimes I need something to look forward to as I think most people do. But there are some things I'm waiting for that I don't necessarily look forward to. For example, my first of many 3 month PCR tests. I wasn't really sure of what to expect but judging by the way I felt I thought I would be the best ever patient. I finally received my PCR tests after a bit of follow up work and spoke to the haematologists about the results. Unfortunately it wasn't as good as they'd hoped for (or me for that matter). After kicking off with 100% Leukaemia last October when I was diagnosed, the 3 month test performed on 18th January came back at 14%. One log reduction (doctor lingo...) is going from 100% down to 10%, a 2 log reduction is going down to 1% and a 3 log reduction is going down to 0.1%. They hoped I would at least get down past 10%. Therefore I haven't achieved a log reduction yet...

I am now heading back to the hospital tomorrow and will receive more medication as I have to increase my dosage (must be the size of my huge muscular frame - or the increased amount of burgers I munch). The docs aren't too concerned just yet, so I have to keep on working harder than before to kick the dodgy cells out of my body.

One thing that both Kas and I have noticed about the CML, is the fact that when I get any bad news from the docs there has been a crash out the front of our house (quiet street too). After speaking with the Professor today, a huge hail storm slammed down leaving the ground fully white and obviously slippery. I hung up the phone and looked outside to see the freak weather and then as if on queue, a car came around the corner too fast and slid out on the ice colliding with a car out the front. The same car the old man hit! Note - any bad news, don't park your car out the front...

Everyone's been helping out where they can and being very supportive. Most people are sorting themselves out with donating bone marrow and seeing if they are a match for me. On the 7th May a whole group of us are running the Edinburgh 10km to raise money and awareness for CML and other Leukaemia's. My work have even spoken with Anthony Nolan and organised a day at head office, dedicated to enrolling new donors for me to have a possible BMT. Still quite overwhelming the effort people are putting into helping people with this shit disease.

Only 5 1/2 weeks now til the big Wedding day in the bonnie lands. All the kilts are sorted out for the aussie boys and most things tracking along ok. This weekend will be a well needed break as we head up north to Gleneagles thanks to Karen's 30th present.
Now with the countdown well and truly underway, I'm just looking forward to spending the day celebrating with everyone. Will be such a good day! Also a day I won't have to think about big fat needles and big fat nurses...

7. Transplant News

Well at least the first bit of waiting is over for now. After chasing up my email to the Transplant ward at the Glasgow Hospital, I finally got hold of the right person and spoke to her about my waiting game. Not the news I was hoping for...

I've heard in many Sales conferences and and been taught in many Sales Training Days about communication. Obviously a vital tool in any Salesman's kit bag. Words only make up 7% of communication and the rest is the way you say it...tone. If this phone call was anything to go by, the figures were pretty accurate.

The facts were straight forward enough - I have a rare antigen in my blood therefore it was quite hard to get a match with me on any Donor Database. After the initial check, they had found two potential matches for me on a world wide search...one in Austria and one in USA. Unfortunately for me, the Austrian donor has removed their name from the list for an unknown reason. Maybe they have donated Bone Marrow, maybe they got scared - that information I doubt I will ever get to hear. The other in the US is away right now (again, not sure of the reason) and isn't available to give a confirmation sample until May this year. Odds aren't looking good for the BMT I was hoping to get until we increase the level of people becoming donors.

I've already I have made a half-arsed attempt at getting in contact with TV stations, radio stations and Newspapers etc. The email I have sent them is basic enough, listing my story so far, the predicament I'm in and also the predicament other's are in. I can guarantee there are others in similar situations! Most of all, the message I am trying to stress is that people are always in discussions about hope for a 'Cancer Cure' - I want them to understand that a blood donation is basically all that is needed to cure Leukaemia by helping them with a BMT. I can confess, before my illness I never knew a thing about my cancer or the very easy way I could help someone with it. So that's my belated New Years resolution...

With my spare time now very busy on my new project, everything else is getting pretty hectic too. Only 6 1/2 weeks until the Australian crew of family and friends arrive on their first (of many) international trip to Europe together and 8 weeks until I'm a married man. Not sure what to get excited over first - showing everyone the sights of the bonny land, the big day and then the honeymoon! The bucks night should be a good one...don't think there's been too many sober blokes on their bucks night before. It's also good to see Kas so happy getting on with the wedding plans...to be honest I've not been much help in choosing between Lilies and Roses, what colour ribbon to wrap around the cake, the style of the Bridesmaids dresses and colour coordinating everything. But as long as I smile and nod and sort out the boys kilts, everything will be ok and I can still keep up my Saturday morning golf...

6. New Year

2006...

The aim was to see the fireworks explode over Edinburgh Castle and spend a few minutes oooing and ahhing at the pretty colours over the well known backdrop. In reality, it was far too cold and most people at the party were happy to stay warm with a whisky in their hand. It was my first New Years celebration without any booze and to be honest I quite happy with that. Just meant that I could watch everyone else get sauced up and do stupid things and then I could remind them about it the next morning. Also quite nice to wake up without a headache and empty wallet...I did have sore cheeks from laughing all night. Ish and Ouso made the trip up from London, however Ish spent 12 hours in an airport trying to get on a plane that would accept an expired Aussie drivers licence. The party man got in late that afternoon so was also good to watch the boys play catch up drinking!

Kas and I managed to make it to our cheap Ryanair flight without any hassles this time. I was asked at least 40 times if I had my medication with me. We enjoyed a few days in Paris and although we'd both been before, it was great to spend some time on our own and just be tourists. The snow that started when we arrived was right on queue and was very romantic...downside was standing in line for the top level of the Eiffel Tower for over an hour in 0 degree temperatures - that took the romance out of the air. The trip was far too quick and soon we were back at work...

I had managed to go a few days without thinking of cancer too much...was really trying to push in to the back of my mind and concentrate on getting better and getting on with life. I still have the occasional image or thought that won't escape my mind - I think it comes down to the pressure I feel to get answers...answers that could mean a potential cure. I was due to get an answer about my bone marrow donor in "January" but I am still waiting...hopefully I will find out if the 2 potential donors are a right match for me. It would give me a goal, something to push towards if and when I find out if I can have a Bone Marrow Transplant.

My blood tests this week were very good again with all the blood levels seeming quite 'normal'. I was expecting to get my 3 month bone marrow biopsy done on the Wednesday, however it tops off an anti-climax week for me now that I know they will be done in the next couple of weeks. Again, it's the pressure of wanting to get answers and get the ball rolling for recovery. I did get my PCR test done - not sure what it stands for but in general, it is an extremely sensitive blood test to find how effective the Gleevec (Cancer drug) has been and how suppressed the Leukaemia is at this stage. Will know answers for that one in three weeks...

That night Kas and I were just relaxing and chatting (probably how she thinks I'm so amazing and handsome - or my fart stinks) about my first blood test for the year and first one in 3 weeks when I heard a loud screech followed by a collision...metal on metal!! I thought, 'Shit, not again!' and we both jumped to our feet to have a look to find out what the noise was. Almost three months since the last accident out the front - this time a car had gone too fast around the corner and collided with a parked van. I was about to run down the stairs but luckily the guy got out of his car and was on the phone within seconds...no carrying anyone out of cars tonight!

Fingers crossed for the week to come. I don't think I am putting too much pressure on myself as it really is completely out of my hands. More than anything, I am staying focused and fully confident to continue fighting against the leukaemia that has tried to take over my body...and I do believe I will win. For now until I get a donor match, I will continue to torment and make it suffer inside of my body! Below I have attached something that I read often to keep me on track and to remind me always fight on...

"...the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short - again and again; who knows the great enthusiams, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who fails daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat..."

5. Silly Season

A couple more weeks now and the doctors say I will be in what's called 'haemotological remission'. Basically, my blood levels will have gone back to normal and would appear ok when a test has been taken. Funny how it can just be hidden like that and I will still know a potential killer is waiting to be let loose. My white blood levels have been fine after the first 3 weeks on Gleevec and have been fine ever since so the docs are now giving me 3 weeks off until I come back and see him...not until 2006! Great news...

November and December have been pretty crazy...so much happening in the silly season. Kas's birthday has finally arrived after year/months/days of talking about it. Was really good to see her so happy and temporarily keep her mind off me. I had organised tickets for the two of us to go to Rome before CML was around so I wasn't going to let that stop me. My Christmas party was in London and for me to get to Rome, I had to fly back to Scotland first...with my lack of London traffic knowledge it all nearly didn't happen with me arriving to a 9:50am flight at 9:55am. More worried about getting my man bits chopped off for missing our holiday! Anyway, the flight was ok and landed in Scottish snow, repacked and headed to Prestwick en route to Italy...wasn't until we got there and about to board that I realised (actually I was reminded) that I had forgotten my medication! Now I was going to lose my man bits...

After Kas having a few well deserved double gins, I slowly managed to claw my way out of the dog house. And we thought this weekend was going to be hospital free... The next morning I thought was going to be a crazy one, I wandered up to the end of the road to a chemist opposite the Spanish Steps. With luck not on my side lately, the lady behind the counter went to the back room and came back out holding the medication I required. There's going to be a catch I thought seeing I don't have a prescription and I also hadn't shaved, leaving me with a dodgy porno moustache...40 euros was the response. Woohoo! She handed me the drugs and the next minute I was back in the hotel room with the biggest grin on my face... bring on Rome!!

December was just as mad with parties, work, playstation etc... but the best news was being invited to join a Clinical Research Study at the Royal Infirmary. The professor in charge is among the world's best and the study I will be on is for me to have a mini-allo transplant after 6 months of Gleevec use. The meeting went well with my dad, Kas and I. There were a few terms she used and some explanations that went over my head but the key thing to happen was to determine if they can A. find me a suitable matched donor and B. how well my biological response is to Gleevec. Mid-January 2006 will hopefully tell me more with both sets of results expected then...

Christmas eve came around so fast. I hate always hearing 'wow, time really flies' and 'I can't beleive it's already been a year since Christmas!'...but truth was, I couldn't. Obviously time is always the same, it just seems faster because of how much busier you actually are. Since October 19th, my head has been pounding with an overload of information. I believe that when you hear you have something wrong with you, ie cancer, you have to arm yourself with all the info you can handle to find out what is best to combat it. Simple...information + self belief + courage = survival. I find my self listening and reading other people's stories alot and the only part I ignore I anyone else's negative experiences. Everyone else's experience and perspective will be different from the next...

Christmas was harder than most for obvious reasons - I was spending it over 10,000 miles away from my family and friends from Oz. I know my family want to be near me and I also want to show them I'm going well and still looking as muscular as Arnie (more like Arnold from Different Strokes). It's just good for me and my family to have Kas's folks here. They give me an endless supply of support...and food! Was really great to spend a cold Scottish Christmas with Smith Family...hopefully the Sinclair and Smith clans will get together for a joint Christmas party next year.

New Years eve tomorrow - can't believe it's been a year since New Years eve! 2006...holy shit!I wonder what's in store for the year to come...

4. Old Man

Work for me was an important step to conquer leukaemia and continue getting on with my life. It was great to get out in my car and have a whole day to myself. I enjoy working in the wine and spirits industry, still can't believe I can't drink anything! Good for my liver I guess, give it a rest.....

Sometimes I'd just think all day about the year and years ahead, how this affects Kas, how it affects my family and friends in Scotland and in Australia. I was still coping quite well regarding the new situation I was in. That Sunday night we had a normal Sunday dinner at the 'in laws', I felt that everything went ok but when we got home Karen asked if I was ok. She also said that her mum thought that I looked liked I needed my family with me.

Back at work the next, staying in the local area and thinking about what Kas said to me last night. I really did rely on my family and so far they had been great. I hadn't heard from a few people that I really thought I would and I think that this was what was on my mind. Kas called and we were talking about the weather or how much I look like Brad Pitt or something along those lines and there was a knock at the door at home. The security button obviously hadn't been touched so she reluctant to open the door. After a few times of Kas saying "who is it?", over the phone I heard her open the door...next was a the mobile phone hitting the wooden floor and a gurgling scream from my receiver. Holy shit...she's been killed! I stayed listening and a man got on the phone..."hello!". Who the hell is this? "Hello Matty, it's your father!". Holy shit again! My car handled my steering quite well as I swung a fairly illegal u-turn and sped off towards home. My phone rang again and it was my mum from back in Oz. My old man had never left the shores of home since he was 5 and now he had come from Broken Hill all the way to Glasgow. Mum promised me it was just my dad and he just wanted to see his mate.

Great to see my old man. He looked well, even after 24 hours on a plane. It was the boost that I needed and he was the chauffeur I needed as the anemia was taking effect on my body and the driving was taking it's toll. I think he thought I'd be in bed and he'd spend the next few weeks watching me play playstation (sort of true - world number 1 Tiger Woods Golf player) but nearly fell off his chair when I came in the room that night dressed in my sports gear and ready for 5-a-side soccer match. That was the way, I refused to let CML slow me down and stop me from getting on with 'normal' life. I know it's very hard to describe normal...not even sure if it exists as everyone is always striving for it...but normal for me was still seeing my friends, playing sport and working. I realise that I have to slow down slightly until my blood levels all come back to 'normal' but this is the way I want to do this.

The next week, November 22nd, I was in the spare room doing some weights and trying to stay fit. My dad came in the room followed by Karen, both looking very serious and concerned. Dad announced that my brother and sister had found out they weren't a bone marrow match for me and they could not be a donor. The news was shit but almost what I had expected. Not because I wasn't optimistic, but because there was only a 1 in 4 chance that Nick would be match and 1 in 4 chance that Tash would be a match. I felt bad for my dad because that was partly the reason he had come over but I also felt bad for Nick and Tash. They had been given some pretty awful news about me and then handed a heap of pressure to be a match for me.

Next step now is to start looking on the UK and world database for a potential bone marrow donor. It's all being handled here in Glasgow so I will be informed on the progress...

3. The Boys

...weekend has now passed and the thought of this disease inside of me had slowly started to sink in. Some people may say that I took a 'bravado' stance with CML and was trying to fool people into thinking I was ok. The reality is, I really was and still am very confident that I will get through this and make a full recovery. No bravado, just 100% confident and 100% ready to back myself.

Again, the morning was filled with chatting to my concerned friends and family in Australia and reassuring them that I am in great hands. I really didn't know too much about about CML yet but yesterday I had read a book in one day for the first time in my life. Lance Armstrong, world champ cyclist, cancer survivor and author...such a great book, very inspiring read. The man had an extremely grim prognosis and still managed to power through over many months and overcome his three seperate cancers. One thing we have in common...full belief that the mind can get you through anything and you have to remain positive throughout. Mind over matter!

Reality is that I do have a reasonable prognosis. With the new drug, I was about to get prescribed, on the market called Gleevec, the chances of survival are dramatically increased. The only thing that really scared me at this point was the talk of a 'bone marrow transplant' and the fact that I may not be able to have kids after a few doses of radiotherapy. What the hell does this all mean?

...I want to be honest in my diary, so the following day's story I had to throw my dignity out the window. With the new threat of sterility, Kas and I had a quick trip to the Sperm Ward at the Glasgow Hospital. I really thought that there maybe a scientific or medical way to produce and sample to put the 'boys' on ice....no. After a few talks with doctors, they told me what they expected (pretty obvious) and I felt a little under pressure to perform. The door had about 3 locks.. the room was a dark, windowless, space with a toilet, sink and a dodgy looking reclining chair covered in a white, tissue paper. There was a 'porn folder' in the back of the dingy room filled with even more dodgy reader's wives, a hot wheel car magazine!! and a comic strip!?! Anyway.....

Outside the room on my departure from the 'love lounge' Karen was sitting waiting patiently...she was slightly blushing and had a little smirk looking up at me. We had a giggle as I walked down the corridor with my small tub. I think I started blushing as I handed the 'boys' over to a nurse who grabbed it out of my hands (no gloves). That was it, she said 'thanks for coming' and Kas and I walked off laughing.

It all started to settle down by the end of the week. I had what was going to be my weekly Wednesday trip to the doctor, started the wonder drug Gleevec and continued to speak with friends and family about what was happening. I find it important to update everyone on how things were going. Then the next thing struck me, I am getting married in August 2006 and with a potential BMT on our hands, it could take months and months to get over and you never know when 'it' or another potential related disease could strike. In the meantime, the move to get my brother and sister tested back in Australia to test their tissue type and be a potential donor for me had begun... Their bone marrow would be the best for my body to handle and would be it was an almost certainty to have a BMT in 6 months from diagnosis. Let the games begin!

1. First Post

Seems very non me to be starting to write a diary. Started writing one when I was 12, mainly about the girls in my class and a few private details until my older brother got hold of it. Can't really remember what happened next...probably gave me a little brother knuckle or teased me until I got upset. Didn't usually get upset but when you have a brother who went through puberty at age 10 and was a giant, the only option was to either stay and fight or run to the safe area around mum or dad.

I'm here writing now because my old man and a few people said it would be good to look back at one day. The other reason is the fact that on 19th October 2005 I was first diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia. It's much easier to write the words than to say it, not because it upsets me but because I don't feel like I have anything wrong with me. The docs say I would have had it for about 1 year and I was very lucky in which the way it was found. At 27 years old, although I'm starting to "ripen", I still feel fit enough to play rugby and do most things I have over the past 10 years. It was about 8 weeks ago when I was in fact playing rugby in Scotland and had a pretty hard game. We weren't too far into the game when I went in for tackle, the other bloke on the opposition team came in with a swinging arm and his fist mashed the side of my face, I could feel something crack and next minute I was laying on the dirt and the game continued. After a few sips of water and a few words of wisdom from the coach I was back on there again with my head feeling like a squashed melon and ears ringing. Maybe 10 minutes later I had a 17 stone guy on the opposition trample on my calf muscle with studded rugby boots. That was the time I thought I was over the hill and ready to hang the boots up...also a fair bit of persuasion from my fiance, her mum and my mum.

Next morning I woke up to a face that made the Elephant Man look handsome (not my fiance, I was looking in the mirror). My eye was black and my face was swollen as too my calf muscle. Two things went through my head : whats Karen going to think and whats another sport I can take up. I waited a couple of weeks and with my calf muscle still swollen, my face still swollen bruising when I have very rarely bruised in all my life, I decided to drag my old body to the doctor and get it checked out. It was explained to me that it's most likely a deep bruise and it's just taking a while to heal. The other thing done and the end of the consultation was to take a blood test...

A few days later a Private Number appeared on my mobile phone..it must be a drunk mate from back in Australia. I answered the phone to speak to Dr McKlintoch who, quite frantically, told me to come into Glasgow's Western Infirmary to speak with her regarding a "high white blood cell count". I understood that a high white cell count was due to infection, therefore I knew that the puffy calf muscle needed some antibiotics.

I was told to take my shirt off and losen my trousers...I guess she's only human! I was thinking it was odd to do this examination for a leg injury. After a quick chat about healthy siblings, etc, the words that next came out will haunt me and stay with me forever.."we are quite sure you have Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia". In with a sore leg and out with cancer...all in a days work.

2. Reactions

The first reaction when you're told you have unwelcome cancer living in your body.... fear overcame any other reaction. I had been playing a fair bit of sport lately so I felt quite fit, so the thought of having a disease that 'only old people got' was a bit distressing. Thought I'd deny I had anything wrong but instead I could only condure up images of what I thought leukaemia looked like. And when you ask the doctor how long you have to live and waiting for the answer is situation I never want to ever go through again...

I never knew that leukaemia was a cancer. I never knew that Oncology meant cancer. I never knew that a 'normal' person had a 'normal' white blood cell count of between 5 and 9 and 166 wasn't considered 'normal'. If you had asked me what a donor lymphocyte infusion was 24 hours earlier I would have stared back crossed eyed and told you that it was a drunken snack you eat on the way home from the pub.

The fact is, everything in my life changed in one instant. Luckily Karen's job was in Clinical Research and had an unbelievable knowledge on anything to do with medicine, so apart from the comfort I felt from having her around, she could also understand what the doctor was saying and catch the bits that went in one of my ears and out the other. I learnt mostly about CML (Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia) from when Karen was on the phone and chatting to friends or family...I'd turn down the telly and listen to what it all meant and I could piece together bits of info I'd picked up along the way.

My initiation into the cancer community was a quick introduction to the needle. We'd met a few times before in the past and never got on too well. Over the next few weeks we were to get to know each other very well.
What followed was a series of confirmation blood tests, the next day I was in another hospital hooked up to a cell seperator machine. Simple explanation : one tube leaving one arm and passing through the cell seperator, collecting a lot of immature stem cells and then passing the blood back into my other arm. The 3 hours hooked up to the machine wasn't the worst part, it was hanging out in an oncology ward that I felt I didn't belong in and hanging out with guys with no hair. I don't have much hair myself but this kind was the kind that had left the body due to the harsh treatment of chemotherapy. Again, I know it is life saving treatment and these guys were extremely brave but I didn't feel I belonged there.

The next day was the day I had heard others talk about. The bone marrow biopsy... Large, large needle, into hip bone, remove sample of bone marrow, lots of pushing and jabbing...that'll sum up the experience.

The next day was Saturday was a very welcome day...no hospital appointments! I had a nice sleep until the phone started ringing from worried friends and family. I really did like talking about and to people as I wanted to reassure them was I was ok and still looked the same...although most people had the same image in their head as I did when I found out. Kas had left for a hair appointment, so 2 minutes later I went down to give my receeding bouffant a trim at the barbers. My heart completely sank as I heard an almighty smash and the grinding of metal on metal and a car engine been revved in neutral. My head said that Kas was a few minutes up the road in the car but my heart made me sprint into action. The path was a bit slippery so I must have looked like bambi on ice to anyone watching... Out the front was a car that had driven into a bend in the road and not turned. The noise I had heard was his car smashing into a parked car. All I could see in the car was a man slouched over the wheel and the airbag that had gone off! One guy was there before me and LUCKILY was a doctor, the other was a quite small lady that wanted to help. The man doctor looked around and announced to me (untrained and shitting myself) that the man wasn't breathing and had no pulse! I shat even more when he then said 'hey you, come and help me get him out of the car'...holy shit!
2 days after finding out about my illness and genuinely believing that I am the unluckiest man in the world, I found myself at a huge car accident pulling an old man out of the front seat, carrying him and placing him on a blanket on the footpath littered with broken glass and debris.

The man doctor said he probably had a heart attack before the crash...the next morning we looked down from the flat and saw a bunch of red roses on the telegraph pole. As horrible as that was for the old fella and his family, it put things into perspective for me. I have a prognosis that is quite promising and in the care of some of the worlds best. Wouldn't now say I am the unluckiest man in the world... I've already been taught so much from what I'm dealing with and I'm very sure I'll learn alot more over the course of my treatment.