I wrote this back in March (2015) and as it captures my mood at the time I don’t want to change it so will leave it as it was written.
Right at the beginning of this blog I explained that when I’d asked for a prognosis from my Doctor at the London/Barts she’d said worst case ‘months’ best case ‘not years’. I had taken this to mean that the very best I could possibly hope for was 18 months. Obviously this is a slightly random conclusion to have drawn but it wasn’t my best day and so the 18 month thing made sense and it stuck. So, in my mind, March 24th 2015 was as good as it was likely to get for me and based on how rapidly I declined over the months following that appointment it seemed impossibly far away.
Since changing hospital, getting onto the drug trial and responding so well to the drugs I realized that the March 24th date was even more random as my previous doctor hadn’t taken into account the new drugs and was basing her pretty stark prediction on me having very limited option however the date still struck a chord.
Well this week it happened, March 24th 2015 snuck up on me and I spent the whole day being unbelievably grateful that I was still very much alive and also extremely paranoid that some awful freak accident would befall me that day and the irony would be too much! The thing is with anniversaries and dates is whether you want to or not they get into your consciousness and make you think.
This one was a good one as whatever else is going on I’m definitely very much alive at the moment and the Doctor who didn’t think I would be wasn’t stupid or ill informed she knew enough to know that lots of people who found themselves riddled with melanoma tumours around their liver generally didn’t survive for very long. So I am definitely one of the very lucky ones. So this week I’ve been thinking about how 18 months just would not have been enough. It’s a stupid thing to say as I’m sure very few people get to a point where they do think, well that’s ok, I’ve had enough of being alive now but I cannot believe how quickly the time has gone past. I am no more ready to say goodbye to all those I love than I was back in September 2013. Andy and my boys are not more ready or prepared to live without me.