I guess it's time I started to write about what has been happening to me since the world as I knew it ended at the end of October: not least that I'm now able to finger type oesophagus now as easily as I can type my own name.
I remember taking the news quite calmly in the endoscopy room. In the weeks leading up to the procedure I'd pretty much convinced myself what the diagnosis would be. Since I went through the investigatory process and ultimately the lung biopsy to be diagnosed with sarcoidosis in mid 2015, I'd changed into the type of person who looks up every ache and pain on the Internet and worries about the worst case scenario. Annoyingly this time I was right.
At the time I wanted my partner to come with me but she couldn't get the time off work, so my parents came. I was worried about this as I knew if it was bad news my mum wouldn't react well. In the event I'm glad she was there to hear it as I wouldn't have been able to find the words to tell her.
The thing about having cancer is that you start to speak in clichés. It's a journey, take one day at a time, live in the moment, think positively (my personal "favourite") etc etc. They are clichés for a reason though I've found out - this is how people feel, how you feel, what people say.
Anyway, I've been through the battery of tests, scans, biopsies, pokes, prods, sad faces, consoling handshakes, serious conversations... the entire process complicated by the sarcoidosis that gives me no outward symptoms, has no impact on my life, except now when it made the six week standard from diagnosis to treatment into an nine week marathon. I have swollen lymph nodes everywhere apparently, and sarc causes them to light up on a PET scan like cancer. The cherry on the top is that it rules me out of just about every clinical trial and means I will not be able to take any immunotherapy drugs, were I to find myself in a position where all other options are gone. So I just have to hope it doesn't come to that.
I'm currently midway through my planned nine weeks of chemo and if I'm totally honest it's not been too bad. Tiredness and nausea like I've never felt before for a week, then slowly becoming normal again. No idea how I'd have managed without my partner, and her drive and focus, not to mention her unquestioning acceptance that at times I'm not able to be the hands on dad with the kids that she would like me to be. We'll get married soon, if she'll have me.
And those are the two other things I've discovered about cancer. First of all, it shortens your horizon dramatically. Can't allow yourself to think too far into the future. Can't plan too far ahead. There's always the unmentionable "but" hanging in the air around any conversation about events more than 4 weeks away. And secondly, it changes how you feel about large swathes of your life. Principles you thought were firm and immovable, are suddenly gone. I was never getting married, not my scene it's just a bit of paper etc. but seemingly now it's something I really want to do. She doesn't know that yet.
Anyway, I'm sure I'll write more as this "journey" continues. I actually started a diary (not written one of them since I had acne, one chest hair and an obsession with Adrian Mole) back in October but it became too maudlin. The aim is for this not to get that way. Please stop me if it does.
