fin

So it's time. Time to put this blog to bed. I have written about 10 draughts and binned them. The reality is that I am neither eloquent or brainy enough to put into words all of the stuff I am thinking, but here goes.

On being voted out of whatever saturday night tv show is your poison of choice, the crest-fallen participants invariably talk about the'amazing journey'(©.S.Cowell)they have been on. Well, having just read through this blog from start to finish, to misquote a line from Crocodile Dundee, 'that's not a journey, this is a journey!'

I had genuinely forgotten most of the stuff we have been through since last December, when I first went to the doctor with a lump in my neck. This amnesia is obviously part of the recovery process.

What stands out for me is how lucky I have been. Firstly, and above everything else, for having the most fantastic wife and children in the world. They have had to endure some horrible stuff and have given me all the strength I needed to come out on the other side. We are now making up for lost time and enjoying each other's company and the simple pleasures in life; going on holiday, a Byron burger, messing about, just watching rubbish telly together. It's fantastic.

It goes without saying, but I will say it anyway, my mum, sister, mum-in-law, brothers in law, uncles, aunt and cousins have been there at my side all the way. I love you all.

My friends and followers on this blog have been constant sources of encouragement for which I am very grateful. 

My good fortune goes right back to the very beginning last December, when I first went to the doctor. Maybe because he was a young doctor who, rather than fob me off with anti-biotics, sent me for blood tests, then when the results came back negative insisted on sending me to e.n.t. for a scan, just to be sure. I genuinely think that if the lump had been anywhere but my neck I would have ignored it, but because dad's non-hodgkins lymphoma started with a lump in his neck, I followed it up. As I said, lucky.

I have spoken many times about our good fortune in being so close to UHNS, where the facilities and staff (if not the car parking) are second to none. The prospect of having to travel miles every day for appointments, treatment or scans would have made the whole experience much harder to deal with both emotionally and logistically. The staff in the cancer unit, radiotherapy and e.n.t. have been, without exception, fantastic. I have to mention Wendy Robson our e.n.t. nurse, she has been with us from the very start like a guardian angel, and her support has been unbelievable.

I could go on and on. I was lucky enough to be 'well' enough to start and finish my radiotherapy on time. Lucky enough to live 20 minutes up the road from the only person in the country who offered me a treatment which allowed me to eat again (thank you Sumathi). Lucky enough to be able to afford the treatment. Lucky enough to have a GP and consultants who were open minded enough to refer me for the vital stim treatment. Lucky enough to meet some of the other amazing people who have benefited from vital stim.

Unbelievably this blog has had 27,000 hits since I started it! I know mum's been on it a few times but that is truly amazing and humbling. I hope that anyone going through something similar will be able to see that there is a way out at the other end and that no matter how bad things get, with the right attitude and support it is possible to make a positive out of such a negative.

A couple of weeks ago Keeley said that she would be glad to see the back of this year and I knew exactly what she meant, but I had to disagree. I now feel, in spite of the horrible stuff we have had to endure this year, that we are in a much better place. I appreciate my friends and family and what we have so much more. I feel much more positive about everything and feel I have a good perspective on what is important in life, and I am reminded of it every day.

This picture says it all.