6 NOVEMBER 2023

‘…but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint.’ Isaiah 40:31

Waiting has been rather an ongoing theme since this all started. Thankfully, waiting on the Lord is a lot easier and more comforting than waiting on the medical profession… but at least this week things are happening. Pre-chemo nurse assessment today: amazingly some of our remedies may be helping as Bertha feels less angry and painful, so I’m not quite as worried about being sent to the scrap heap for that reason. However Steve and I went down with a virus last night- fever, chills, sneezing etc- thankfully not Covid and a bit better today but hoping it won’t affect the blood test results: wouldn’t want an MOT fail on the basis of a winter cold…

Even if Nurse Becca is suitably impressed by my glowing demeanour and effortless gait (I did always love Drama at school and have rehearsed my entrance into the consulting room well), I still have to satisfy Count Oncologist on Wednesday that I am fit enough for chemo. I was toying with the idea of turning up in full gym gear, sweatband and all, but then realised that the waistband of my Barbie-doll sized leggings wouldn’t be able to climb even an inch up the mountain that is Bertha. I will settle instead for a sophisticated yet understated dress that says I Mean Business.

We have learnt so far that putting all your eggs in one basket doesn’t work in this game, as that basket is frequently tipped over, smashing the eggs. So our secret weapon – Strand 2 of the double-strand approach- is our appointment with a top international consultant at the Marsden on Wednesday morning (going to be a busy day). My only hope is that she- that in itself is promising- will listen, maybe even have some sympathy (so far rather lacking in the consultant department) and perhaps even suggest a way forward.

So much to do outside of the appointments; chasing doc’s letter for holiday insurance claim, all the other outstanding admin (see earlier blog post), starting to collate all of my compositions so Michael can put them on a website: some of which date from pre-computer days and are scrawled on manuscript paper. And perhaps the most difficult thing… that initial enquiry to the funeral director that I need to make just so that all of the ducks are in a row…

I suddenly think about what I would have been doing at this very moment, in my old life… I won’t say ‘should have been doing’, as God has taken this away for a reason that only He knows. But I do feel a little pang thinking about my old Monday mornings: firstly a choir rehearsal with 20 smiley, bouncy children, a significant percentage of which haven’t quite got the idea of pitching notes but sing with gusto all the same. Then came assembly with the whole school preparing them for their Christmas production; they -and I- were all so excited about it. And then my individual violin lessons, warm, special times guiding and enthusing the sweetest, lovliest, funniest children.

But that door is closed for now and I have been given a new path. The memories go with me, buoying me up, as does the support of all the amazing people I have met upon the way. The only way is onwards, in faith and trust.

‘Come, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths’. Micah 4:2