In my opinion, what makes life interesting is the uncertainty. Not knowing what lies ahead. That you have an infinite numbers of choices to make and paths to follow.
That it’s up to you to decide which one to take.
Sure, there are paths more and less well trodden, but it is on the shoulders of each of us to decide which route we take.
So with this in mind, I guess it’s no surprise that of late, life has been a bit more challenging for me.
I can create uncertainty in the face of a very clear and certain(ish) future.
But with uncertainty come surprises. Which as we all know, can be both positive and negative.
I knew that I was coming out of remission from the autologous transplant of 21 months ago a few months back.
The signs I was able to ignore through my ignorance of blood cancer back in 2016 have been sadly recognisable of late.
This has been confirmed in recent blood tests where there is a marginal uptick in PP number, but the gradient is still not of concern just yet.
Certainly for the cyclists among the readership, you would not even break a sweat if this represented the Strava section of a bike route.
So no need to send the balloon up just yet, but it is clear that a change in therapy is unfortunately, a step closer than it was a few months back.
So for those of you who have kindly been asking if I’ve been alright recently and I may have come across as a bit less sprightly than maybe I usually might (I really did think I was hiding it rather well in truth) it is all good.
But for a few weeks over Christmas, which coincided with weeks 2 and 3 of the drug regime (the toughest) I felt like the evil alter ego of Superman (Superman III if you want a trip down memory lane)
I felt rough and was angry but had nothing that I was specifically angry about. Which made me more annoyed at myself. (and everybody else…sorry about that)
The thing is, I was absolutely aware of my actions. I think I actually wanted to be angry which is horrible. I cannot use the excuse of losing total control of myself.
In the end I would take myself away from a situation before I let it all out because it just was not fair, especially on Jenn who to her credit, dealt with those weeks with understanding and sensitivity.
This diagnosis has been one hell of a rollercoaster so far and long may this continue. Bizarrely, I often find myself contemplating the plethora of positive things that have come from it.
The existing friendships that have been nurtured, the new friends made, the projects delivered and the doors that have been opened to me that ordinarily, would not have been.
99% of the time all is well and life can be lived.
But for those 1% moments, head space is simply overtaken by emotions that are not conducive to a happy life. (or therefore, a happy wife!)
Strange as this may sound for someone who took to writing a blog about his cancer, I do not do talking, emotions or any of that sensitive stuff.
I am from the North! I eat meat, watch sport and like to throw weights around a gym for fun!!
And yet when those dark clouds that hover on the horizon manifest and temporarily collect over my head, no amount of alpha posturing or bench pressing will clear it.
So although I might not get it out in the open, I am thankful that you are listening and care enough to ask. Putting up with whatever it is I do and say. Being considerate and in simple terms, just being there.
I am a creature of habit so change is a hard thing to elicit. But I am trying and as long as I have the support I clearly have, to quote my brother
“it’ll be reet.”