4 days in...

(First Published August 12th 2019)

It is now 4 days since my diagnosis and “from that moment on, my life would never be the same” has obviously not come to pass. The Sun still rises every morning, albeit it from behind rain filled clouds thus far.  I eat breakfast, drink coffee, have a laugh and a joke with my family and wee more than I used to.

Thursday afternoon was a bit of a whirlwind. As we sat in the car having left the hospital I did shed a small tear. Not for any other reason than I was sad that I had to tell my daughters that things were possibly worse than I had anticipated. We questioned for a moment whether to censor the complete truth until my eldest had picked up her GCSE results and enrolled at Lewes College. We quickly decided that this wasn’t the way forward and we would endeavour to be completely open with our nearest and dearest.

When we arrived home my 14 year, Maggie, and her best friend were baking a cake in the kitchen. I took the two of them to one side (thinking that Maggie might want the support of her friend) and told them the news. Maggie said “OK” with a smile and they went back to what they were doing. This is the way Maggie has always rolled. Eva, my 15 year old, was at a friends house and wasn’t due back until early evening so we both got busy phoning, texting, e-mailing, whatsapping and facebook messaging family and close friends (if there is a close friend reading this who didn’t receive a personal message it doesn’t mean I don’t love you dearly...it was just a bit frantic.) Eva returned home shortly after and, as she has always been more outward with her emotions, I obviously burst into tears as I tried to tell her.

The rest of the evening was equally frantic as we were due to drive to Wales early the following morning for a few days in the middle of nowhere for some well needed rest & relaxation. This was when I gave thought to the highly indulgent idea of writing a blog of my experience and putting it out there on my facebook feed. As I lay awake after my first night time wee, mulling over the days events, I found myself thinking of how to best put it all into words. I found even this process took away some of the fear and made me feel that I wasn’t alone, even though I hadn’t yet written a word. 

After my second night time wee (there are certain themes developing here) it struck me that while I am lying here wallowing in the rosy glow of having had my loved ones all make the right noises about how loved I am and anything they can do etc etc my wife, two daughters, brother, sister, to name but a few, have just been told that I have an aggressive form of bladder cancer that will require major surgery before Christmas. It’s feasible that all may not be sitting well with them.

All the more reason to put it out there. Shout, scream, talk, cry, question, discuss and most importantly accept what is.  It sounds like a plan but I guess time will tell (plus it doesn’t hurt much yet.)