A new every day

Kevin Mwachiro
4 min readDec 6, 2022
Photo: Umaru Kizito

I had forgotten that every day is a milestone; you don’t have to live with cancer to recognise that. I have been reminded that every day is a gift, and you don’t have to be at death’s door to take that in. I acknowledge that every day is an opportunity to discover that love comes from embracing the person within ourselves and the thing we were put on this earth to do.

Every day has its thing, every day.

I relapsed eight months ago and was reminded of my every day and told to unpack today’s gift and breathe in the now.

Since April, I’ve been on semi-oral chemotherapy and have completed my seventh of twelve rounds. They are other dawas that I also have to take that have their schedule, and I’ve reunited with a specific steroid that I call “Dexah”. Dexamethasone became famous during the early stages of Covid-19 and is now part of the three-line treatment for beating this second episode of Multiple Myeloma (MM). It, too, has its challenges.

I knew remission wasn’t going to last forever. MM doesn’t work that way. Though you can suppress it, it is a restless disease that will mutate its way back into your life, and it did. The timing wasn’t perfect. I was also dealing with a breakup and trying to make sense of it. Let’s say my body and heart were brittle in February — March.

I quickly discovered that some hacks from round one would not be applicable this time round. The Kevo of 2015 is not the Kevo of 2022. I know a lot more about cancer, the side effects of the medication and the mental, emotional, and physical journey that comes with the disease. Plus, I knew a lot more about myself and what had changed.

Nairobi is no longer home, and living by the sea surrounded by nature is more important than ever and has helped me navigate living with myeloma. Kilifi, with its warm waters, natural beauty, clean air, and comfort, has cuddled me into calling it home. I was offered rest, only to realise that rest comes in many ways. I’m now self-employed. Something pre-cancer Kevo had never considered. I have crafted a lifestyle that works for me. The joys of dressing to work in a kikoi, bare-chested, barefoot and breathing, bore me a new lease of life. Home.

So, this round two is different. Every day, I still listen to my body. We negotiate a lot more about my diet because diarrhoea and bloating have made their presence felt on several occasions. Insomnia and some fatigue occasionally don’t want to miss the party, but fortunately, these episodes last a couple of days. As I listen to my body, I also discover it is changing. Mid-life manenos and some of these bodily changes have nothing to do with the medication. My body is being my body. So, I must keep listening to it, looking after it, and then releasing it to fight for me.

In all this, a quick lesson in acceptance kicked in. First, I needed to acknowledge the relapse and the many changes happening around me. That is the only constant. Second, I feared the meds, wondering if they would be kind or ruthless to me. Fortunately, they’ve been kind often, but I’ve also accepted that there will be challenging moments during this course. In addition, I’d questions about my mental, emotional, and physical state. Wondering how much of my life would have to be re-jigged.

Admittedly, I’ve struggled to find the words to share about this round. Writing helped me navigate this space back seven years ago. Then, I couldn’t do much physically; all this was new to me and those around me. The waters were uncharted, and writing gave me a compass. Fortunately, this time around, I can work out at least three times a week, have hour-long walks, cycle, and swim when I can. So fortunately, being physically active has added to this part of my healing process. I’ve just gotten on with it — having the runs, gas, chemo-brain, and poor libido. And my words are slowly making their way into this journey. Slowly.

I also recognise that the last couple of years have been much and have had an emotional toll on me. There have been knocks and bruises, and going through round two, for me, is faced with much more humanity with a sturdier, more pragmatic, and more grateful core.

Hence my every day and me remembering that it comes not just with newness but also with clamours, cheer, capriciousness, and choices. So that’s my story for this day. What’s yours?

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Kevin Mwachiro

I write about cancer, queerness and this thing called life.