The long middle

I told my oncologist at our first meeting that I did not want statistics, but some kind of "we'd hope... we'd expect..." Didn't even get that.

A matter of months without treatment: that was pretty blunt. Not a lot of hope there, then....  (The lung specialist had previously said 12-18 months, but that was before they found brain mets - too small to treat, apparently, and yet they're the buggers that might/will get me?)

And the chemo/immuno can only be given for 2 years maximum - stress maximum, IF I can even tolerate it...

Well, two years is a long time if I don't feel too ill. Even a year is worth it. So we can but see. I unfortunately have far too many relatives who unexpectedly collapsed on the toilet...

Then again, I've always been a motorbike rider. Never know if you'll make it back home after just a trip to the shops, never mind a leisure trip. Ditto being a skier, climber, lone isolated fell walker.

So life is life, done when it's done, often out of our control. Lived 61 years with severe food allergies and dodged quite a few bullets there too 

Oddly, I do have four novels (or one huge one) which I really want to finish. Much as I love writing, love immersing myself in my imaginary world of now close and cunning friends, I can't now decide if sitting and typing is a waste of my remaining time when I can maybe be keeping more active and making more memories for Hubby. Big dilemma.

Strange how every "notable" date, event, takes on "likely my last xxxxx". Today it's Easter! My grandkids live abroad, so I'll never give them Easter eggs again. 

Good luck, Dave 

I'm a keen gardener - I wonder if that's the last daffodil I'll see, the last cherry blossom, the last..... Etc etc 

Or do I carry on 'editing' as Monty Don puts it, and redesigning and trying to get it looking better for next year (before Hubby gives up and digs it all up of course )

In the beginning I often think this is my last…Christmas etc. I think is it is called an anticipatory grief . But now I try to think this is my 2nd last …. instead. It is not unrealistic/ fantastcial and makes me feel much better as there is always one more. 

I used the "2nd last" tactic a couple of years after my lung cancer treatment in 2014.

Went back to "this will be my last" when prostate cancer was diagnosed in 2016.

Went back to "2nd last" a couple of years after the PC treatment.

But this recurred early 2024, now incurable but treatable, so I just think "sod it" and it cheers me up every day when I wake up and all's OK.

Yes, I even stop moaning about the weather now as I still get to experience what ever the weather is today. But could do with more sunny day though 

I have had one Christmas where the whole family descended expecting it to be my last. I had been seriously ill the previous September. Now I think everyone thinks I will last forever and I try to think the same. The one thing that gets me each year is when the swifts have departed for Africa in August. 

This was really interesting to read. I was diagnosed with brain cancer last year and given 5-8 years. I’m currently undergoing chemo and take it for five days then have 23 off - by the time I get round to starting again each time, I feel and act well so people do indeed say similar things to that they have said to the journalist. 

I wish I could be like her friend who doesn’t get drawn into the stress of work anymore but, unfortunately, I have been unable to get there yet as people seem to think that as I am working, I must be able to get what they want done right now, and any attempts to set boundaries are met with indignation because they are the ones with targets and I am the one supporting them. 

It also really touches on that feeling of having death or suffering looming over you the whole time, whilst you are still expected to fit into society’s system. People say ‘why are you still working?’ And I have to explain that it’s because I can’t afford not to and I have a young child to raise! Do they really think I want to sit at a desk and be pressured for work tasks? 

I think adding to the article, where she talks about this chronically terminal category of people, I find that everyone (especially at work but all over) wants everything ‘urgently’ and I want to scream ‘your spreadsheet isn’t urgent! When we die no one will look at it ever again!’. I guess it’s similar to that odd feeling you get when you are first diagnosed and you come out of the hospital where your life has just been flipped upside down, and people are still going about their lives as normal and you think ‘what are they all doing?! How is their world still turning when mine has just stopped?’

Performing for others is also something I can really relate to; everyone wants to hear good news in the sense that suddenly someone has discovered a miracle cure. You find yourself dragging yourself into a personality that manages their grief and uncertainty, all whilst dealing with your own. If you don’t perform, suddenly they panic and either don’t know what to say or start patronising you as if you are some old Victorian woman who needs to be wheeled out to the sea to take in the air.

Although I have 30 years younger than you, I really relate to that internal conflict about whether what I am doing each day is wasting my time. I got stressed about the choice at a cake sale because I wanted to make sure I got something I would enjoy. In reflection, I should have spent less time worrying about that and more about what makes me really happy (my child). 

Ultimately, we all do what we think is right at the time and I am sure your husband knows how much you enjoy writing and I think, in times like these, our loved ones are happy to see us happy.

Very eloquently expressed Catflap