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.

salon

I toyed with the idea of keeping the girly curls but it just wasn't happening. My hair was in various places: curly, thin, thick and fluffy. Not a good look so I had a good chop at Salon Keeley. She didn't offer me anything for the weekend unfortunately.

hols

I'm still working on my summary, so in the meantime here is an ace picture of me and my wonderful family in Cornwall last week.

curls

pI have a bad case of what I believe is called the chemo curls. My hair is growing back curly on top, thin at the back and sides. It's time to start again so I'm off to the barbers for what my grandad used to call a tuppeny all off. Results tomorrow.

I'm also having a sort through my unused drug stash today. Might be some time.

chords

visit to consultant today for the old camera down the nose throat inspection. All fine, vocal chords a lot less swollen than last time. Back again in 6 weeks, then expecting it to be maybe a 6 month break before the next appointment. A sure sign that things are going well.

Saw the lovely Wendy our ENT nurse and had a chance to talk and thank her for her incredible support this year. She told us that this ( meeting the patients well on the road to recovery ) was the best bit of the job. Makes you realise that these fantastic people have to deal with stories like mine every day. Incredible. An inspiration to all of us.

apology

my post 'profound' on the 25th oct came  out all wrong. From the start this whole thing has been like a stream of consciousness that I have just poured out without thinking too much about the consequence of what I am saying, relying on the fact that it was the truth as I saw it to get me through.

This has worked fine until the 'profound' post where I'm afraid my lack of eloquence let me down. I could easily delete it but feel it is important to leave everything on here as a record of the last 9 months, warts and all.

In trying to put into words my changing feelings I think I came over as dismissing everything and belittling the whole struggle against cancer, just because I have beaten it. I am accutely aware that for many people, some of whom may read the blog, the struggle is far from over.

I apologise for the flippant tone of the post and encourage you to keep the faith and join me next week when I will be formally concluding the blog .

Ta dudes and dudettes

onion ring

Rick stein sure makes a fine onion ring

pasty

forget walking on the moon and splitting the atom, in the history of human achievement I pissed on them. For today, dear friends, I ate a pasty. Thank you.

profound

Actor Timothy Spall said on telly last night that after he was diagnosed with leukaemia a few years ago he found it easy to be profound. Now that he is fully recovered he can't be arsed!

I identify totally with this sentiment.

In my darkest hours profundities dripped from my virtual pen like honey from a bee (?) Now I am well on the road to recovery all that tree hugging nonsense that I blogged, quite genuinely, a couple of months ago, seems like a load of old tosh. This is is a sure sign that I am back to my 50 year old righteous and grumpy self. Hurrah!

With this in mind I have decided that after my 6 weekly visit to my consultant a week on Monday, I will draw a veil over this blog and hopefully come up with a few conclusions and try and force some final profoundness out.

Watch this space blogettes.*

*see the post'apology', for a follow up to this post.

card

Keeley's aunties, Jacky & Angie, have sent me a card pretty much every week this year. Small gestures like this are a consistent reminder to me of how lucky I am to have such fantastic family around me. This is today's card.

Alongside the support from my family I have received amazing support from friends and even total strangers. My great friend Sarah has constantly supported me through my ups and downs and her positivity  has been such a big help. I also received a message this morning from a friend of Karl's, Jeannie, who I have never even met, but who had followed my blog. Her words were so thoughtful and kind and put a big smile on my face.

A few words, a card, a phone call, a text, 

simple gestures that mean a great deal.

bath

this morning I had a proper deep bath, without Keeley having to help me in and out, for the first time since February! Glorious. I should say that I have showered in the meantime, but not without having to tape over my feeding tube. Simple pleasures.

plea

watched the stand up to Cancer show on telly last night. Brought home how lucky we have been. There is always someone worse off is a bit of a throw away comment, but I have seen first hand this year that, no matter how bad things were for me, when you see kids suffering and succumbing to the terrible disease, I have been very, very fortunate.

From what I have learned, and what was said last night, the thing standing between us and a cure for all cancers is time and money. With this in mind I think we all owe it to ourselves to give a few quid to Macmillan or Cancer Research and do our bit.

I have first hand evidence that this works. When dad passed away 22 years ago from non Hodgkins Lymphoma, it was untreatable. Now, thanks to stem cell treatment funded and developed thanks to Cancer Research, the condition is eminently treatable.

I started giving £10 a month to Cancer Research back then which in the big picture is absolutely nothing and a small enough amount for me not to 

miss it. I've certainly had my money's worth out of it this year. Whether it's through guilt, grief or the kindness of our hearts, a couple of quid a month is nothing to most of us but added together could make such a big difference.

cancerresearchuk.org

list

as a demonstration of how positive I am that all of the bad stuff is now behind us, I am going to wind this blog up over the next few days. Hopefully this will help to make a full stop on the last few months and a good starting point for the next chapter.

Here we go then. This year has been a series of firsts and landmarks for me. Here are a few:

• I have been bald

• I spent a night (11 of them) in hospital 

• I had a tonsil out

• I had 76 injections

• I wrote a blog

• I cried a lot

• I didn't eat anything for 4 months

• I realised how lucky I am to have a fantastic wife, fantastic children, fantastic family and fantastic friends

• I was depressed

• I had an operation (3) 

• I had a feeding tube

• I watched a lot of telly

• I missed the school run for the first time in 10 years

• I went in an ambulance

• I was treated in a&e

• I feinted a few times

• I had chemotherapy

• I had 18 blood tests

• I had 30 radiotherapy sessions in 44 days

• I wore jogging bottoms in public

• I didn't do much (any) work

• I missed consecutive Stoke home games for the first time since 1979

• I wore slippers

more soon.

bath?

the hole in my tummy is now pretty much healed up. Bit early to go swimming or have a bath yet but we're not far off.

Eating continues to improve. Went to our favourite burger place (Byrons) in Manchester yesterday and enjoyed the veggie option ( a mushroom smothered in goats cheese) without the bun, some courgette fries and onion rings. Yum yum. Bread is still difficult but most other things are now fine. I continue to have small portions, and the main thing holding me back now is my lack of saliva. This should return to normal in time.

When they told us at the beginning of the treatment that it could be 18 months to 2 years before I'm back to normal we didn't really take it in. 5 months post treatment and 9 months since we started we are still a comparatively short time into the recovery process.we started

gone

it's gone.And what's more I did it myself. The feeding tube co-ordinator from the hospital rang and suggested it was so simple that I could take it out myself. So with her talking me through it on the phone I did it.

Bloody ace. Just can't have a drink for 4 hours or I'll leak.

tube

visit to dietician today which went very well and then very badly. I was expecting that, if I had maintained my weight since the last appointment, which I had, that I could have my feeding tube out. No go.

She was delighted with my progress in the last month ( I haven't used the tube for 4 weeks) but wasn't able to organise the removal without a referral to the right person, which could take a month.

It won't be a month because I am now going to use my insider knowledge of how these things work (built up over the last 9 months) to bypass the protocol and get it sorted, hopefully in the next week or so. We shall see.

elevenses

mid morning snack of champions. Ensure super high calorie drink (banana flavour, 400 calories), and a chocolate eclair. Only recommended, if like me, you are trying to pile on the pounds with a view to having your feeding tube removed next week.

tea

fish on Friday. Went down a treat.

stir fry

saw Lynn my speech therapist yesterday at UHNS. Delighted by my progress and doesn't need to see me again. Marvellous.

Swallowing and eating is going fine. Bread, and as I discovered yesterday, the good old doughnut, is still a problem. As long as everything is fairly moist I can eat it, albeit not too much. 

Had a stir fry last night with Keeley, Chris & the kids and it went down pretty well. Bit of a sore throat afterwards. This is probably due to the 'newness' of the skin in my throat which is sensitive to the seasoning in the food, and is also being effected by the coughing that I have to employ to regularly clear my throat.

Progress in the last month has been remarkable, but we are still only a short 4 months past the end of my treatment, so my throat, taste buds, saliva glands, tongue and neck are still traumatised by the radiotherapy and it will probably be a good few months yet until things return properly to normal.

footer

had a really good day yesterday. went in to college in the afternoon and it was great to catch up with . Sarah, Fiona, Mike, Collette and Sue. All being well I will be back doing a bit of computer magic after Christmas. I was a bit nervous before going in for the first time since December, but it was a real tonic to see everyone.

Follow this with another match at the Brit and 3 points it was an enjoyable but tiring   day.

We have made a conscious decision that between now and Christmas I am just going to concentrate on getting properly back on my feet and healthy. Everything else, work-wise, money-wise can wait until I'm properly better.

Next Wednesday is hopefully the day that I will have my ball & chain (feeding tube) removed. This will depend on my weight having gone up in the last couple of weeks. To make sure this happens I will be stuffing whatever I can down my neck in the next 8 days. Fingers crossed.