3 July 2024

‘Seek the Lord and his strength, seek his face continually.’ 1 Chronicles 16:11

I think that this might be the longest time I’ve gone without blogging since the very start: apologies if you’ve been pining for something long, rambling and vaguely entertaining to read… further apologies if you were just hanging out for the Wedding Edition (ok so that’s all of you): patience, patience, getting closer now…

There are good reasons behind my silence, though: I’ve been LIVING, for one. Cancer has taken a back seat even on chemo days and crash days. It has no place in the crazy, happy muddle that is the end of the school year. This year, the muddle is chiefly Isaac’s; I’m not engulfed by the usual hurricane of exams, reports and concerts that sees me staggering on my knees to the end of term. Instead, I have enjoyed the constant but more gentle whirl of Isaac’s school events: shows, concerts, charity fair, Sports’ Day.

These have been punctuated with lovely things for myself, every day heralding at least one walk, coffee shop, brunch, spa or lunch with amazing friends. And each weekend has been filled to the brim with wonderful things and people.

Isaac’s concert in Poole was more than special. He had been invited to play a duet with his Dorset flute friend, James; the proposed piece being the Doppler Rondo. When I initially shared this information with Hannah, Isaac’s wonderful Hertfordshire flute teacher, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘I think that will be too difficult,’ she advised. ‘I’ve just performed that with my Diploma pupil…’ But it was decided that the boys would just ‘have a little try’ and see what happened.

They loved it. The piece was fast, fun, crazy and beautiful all at once. It got the go ahead for the concert in the knowledge that it was still a risk to take and a big ask of such young players, but James and Isaac were more than up for it. On the day they smashed it, rising to the occasion and clearly enjoying every minute.

Ooh! Multimedia!

As I sat and listened I was overwhelmed with the feeling of absolute privilege to be there witnessing another special milestone for Isaac on his musical journey. It was a joy to see him happy and confident, moving to the music as his silvery flute tones soared up to the high ceilings of the church.

It was wonderful being in Dorset for a non-chemo crash weekend for once, especially because all of the family down there got to see me in good form- I wouldn’t blame them if they had secretly been thinking I’d actually turned into a zombie… But that meant of course that the next weekend was going to host the eye of the chemo crash storm. In light of this we had planned some quiet Hertfordshire time… NOT! On Saturday we hopped on a train to Broadstairs to spend time with Steve’s brother Martyn, wife Sally (English teacher and deputy head extraordinaire; we share a mutual love for punctuation, as demonstrated by the semi-colon in this very sentence) and maths-and-Rubik’s Cube-wizard nephew Ben. I relished the chance to walk to their house from the station, and to the beach and back in the afternoon: 7k total, wooo! We had a wonderful time with them all and I kept going right up until I sank into a window seat on the train home.

Then it was Bad. Very Bad. I know that because I couldn’t even manage to read my book or look at my phone. On the journey there I had worked on my music on the laptop; now I couldn’t do anything which meant that I would be BORED, an affliction far worse than any physical pain that I could experience. Or so I thought. When we finally made it home and I collapsed onto the bed, I’m not ashamed to admit that I was crying, such was the awfulness of how I felt. I can’t begin to describe it so I won’t try.

But sleep brought relief and things weren’t quite so acute the next day. I could pop paracetamol for the headaches, and the other horrid symptoms would be tempered by the wonderful distraction of Jasper’s 2nd birthday party. Jasper was on top form, not too overwhelmed by people or presents, and had a lovely time.

It felt as much like a pre-wedding do as a toddler party: with many of the wedding party present, excitement levels quickly started to build. Connor’s Mum Lisa and I discussed whether or not to wear fascinators and the outcome was a big fat YES. Steve became a little emotional later in the day- nothing at all to do with his imbibing multiple glasses of bubbly and red wine- and said to me with glazed eyes:

‘You’re going to be there! You’re going to be by my side!’

Yes! Let’s just take stock for a minute… we have reached the end of the school year and the wedding is imminent. Both of these things did not look at all likely last October. ‘You may want to consider bringing the wedding forward’, we were told. I was determined that was not going to happen. Aside from the fact that people had already booked their flights and accommodation, this was the wedding that my daughter wanted and I was not about to ask her to compromise that in any way. If I couldn’t go, I couldn’t go.

BUT I CAN! Mamma Mia, eat your heart out; this is going to be a wedding to remember. Steve and I are both totally overwhelmed by the care and providence of God that has brought us to this point.

Today Isaac has gone off to Llangollen in Wales for a couple of days to compete in the Eisteddfodd (an international music competition) with his wonderful school choir. It wasn’t possible for Steve and I to travel there to watch but we will be cheering them on in spirit: go Heath Mount! Steve has been flat out with work this week and I haven’t stopped either, spending the evenings in the oxygen tent due to busy days: we are very much hoping for a little quiet time together tonight.

Tomorrow we will be seeing SuperProf face-to-face in London for the first time since our initial consultation in February. I intend to make the most of the fact that Prof will be able to appreciate more than just my head and have planned an athletic yet elegant entrance into the room. I’m wondering how I can show him my magnificent biceps without actually flexing my muscles (for they are indeed magnificent, gained 25 years ago from pushing 3 children in a single pram for miles and are STILL HERE). I might just have to do it anyway, watch this space💪.

Overachiever that I am, I want to be SuperProf’s A-Star patient. I want to be the one that defies expectations, the one so strong and so motivated that I can thrive on even the most hardcore treatment. If I’m any of that already, it is all in the will and strength of God; I have nothing in myself. I know that because the minute I stop looking up, things overwhelm me.

I’m particularly looking forward to tomorrow’s appointment though because I already know my blood results: no surprises await. I decided to be brave and get the results on chemo day last week, not wanting to worry about them during these happy end-of-term days, plus I’m meeting a dear friend for dinner and a show after the appointment (ooh!) and did not want to be processing news, bad or good, at that time.

The results were good. My CEA was down again at 33. Of course it is now reducing much more slowly; one of the questions I have for Prof is what he expects to happen from here. I will need to be brave to ask that one. There is obviously a limit to how far the numbers can go down because the whole crew of squatters are still there: Mr. Bowel, Mrs. Ovary, Ms. Peritoneum (still not quite sure what that is), Masters Liver and Lungs. Sounds like a game of Happy Families, or rather ‘Unhappy Families, the Cancer Edition’…

In a clear example of what happens when I look to myself instead of looking up to God and His rich, comforting promises, last night I took an unfortunate trip down the rabbit hole, thinking about all of these malevolent things inside me and how I WANT THEM OUT. Of course that just wasn’t helpful and predictably I didn’t sleep well at all.

Come on, woman, back on the horse…there’s music to write, ironing to do (hmm), walks to enjoy, summer holidays imminent, a WEDDING TO PACK FOR: in short, there’s life to live, and I shall grasp it with both hands and a smile.

‘…let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith’ Hebrews 12:1-2