Happy 3rd cancerversary to me.

Happy cancerversary to me!
It’s three years exactly since I had my official diagnosis. I had the tests the previous week, and had been told that they could see it was cancer. But 15 April was the official, biopsy-confirmed diagnosis of stage 3 breast cancer, with spread to the lymph nodes.
Maybe I shouldn’t mark this day: after all, it wasn’t a happy occasion. Perhaps my last chemo, in August, would be more appropriate. Or my surgery date, of 13 October, when the cancer was properly cut out. Or my last day of radiotherapy, in early February. That’s the thing with cancer: it gives you many important milestones. But, I’ll stick with this date I think. After all, it is a birthday of sorts. A day when I waved goodbye to the normal healthy young woman that I was, and started my new life as a cancer patient, then survivor.
So how do I feel this year? Last year, on my 2nd cancerversary, I was elated. I had recently stopped my life-destroying (how ironic, as they are actually intended to stretch out my lifespan just a little longer, but to the unacceptable cost of all joy or peace for me and my family) drugs, and was happy feeling a lot like the old Alex.
This year, I honestly don’t know how I feel. How am I meant to feel? Life as a cancer survivor is one without a map.
Sometimes I am hugely relieved just to be alive and every extra day is a blessing. Other times it feels like I cheated death, and it’s just waiting for me in the wings; until I am really comfortable. Then I forget all about cancer and feel like a normal healthy person. Occasionally I feel boring and tired. Sometimes I feel I have been given a second chance: an eye-opening brush with my own mortality that seems like more a blessing than a curse. Then I think of how much my kids have grown up in the last three years: will I still be around for the next three? I am reminded of how God has blessed me with such a wonderful life, and how I shouldn’t waste it. Then I worry that I won’t be around to see my children finish school, get a job, get married, have their own children. Sometimes I believe that I will live to 90, just to prove a point. Other times I am grateful that I can help people newly diagnosed. Then I will feel that I’m not doing enough for those in the cancer community. And I also think about how unfair life is: not for me, but for the people without a voice; like the innocents being bombed in Syria, and the people struggling to survive in Burundi. And I think that I should shut up about cancer, after all, I am well and what’s the point of moaning? Then I can’t be bothered to think, and just want to watch telly, draw a doodle or read a book. So yeah, that’s a typical day!
I haven’t celebrated this day as such, but my daughter and I did bake cupcakes, which are surprisingly good.  And what is the point of surviving cancer if you can’t enjoy a home-made cupcake now and then?
Advertisements

Paddington Bear has an adventure in London.

Paddington Bear at Monument Tube 12042018
Hello, I am Paddington Bear. Today, some humans called Mike and Alex bought me from a shop in London, and took me on an adventure. I have always lived up on a shelf in the shop, so had never seen London properly before. Just a lot of tourists’ heads.
Mike and P Bear on tube 12042018
We went on the tube, which is an underground train network! Even though we were underground, I didn’t see any earthworms or mud. I sat on Mike’s shoulder for a good view.
London Eye 11042018
We went on a boat ride on the Thames. It was so cool: we saw lots of things, like this big wheel. I think that people who have been very naughty are made to go on it, as punishment.
20180412_113315_Richtone(HDR)
My owners took me up a ridiculously tall building, called the Shard. I was too scared to get out of Alex’s backpack. Bears are Not made to be this high up! Afterwards, I needed a cuddle and some marmalade sandwiches to recover.
Paddington Bear on bench 12042018
I got tired from all the adventuring and needed a sit-down, and look what we found! A bench with my name on it. What are the chances?
Paddington Bear at Paddington Underground station
There is a tube station named after me! How cool is that? 
20180412_134554_Richtone(HDR)
Then we went to a very noisy and busy train station. I like London, but there are just too many people. I found this extremely old bear, who told me all about Peru, which is where us Paddingtons all came from many years ago. He is very popular: I saw lots of people getting their photo with him.

 

Paddington Bear shop London 12042018
We found an awesome shop, full of bears just like me! I made lots of friends. They are all hoping for families to take them home. Living in a shop can be quite boring. Except for the parties after closing-time, of course.
Paddington Bear on train to Swindon 12042018
Mike, Alex and I got on a train, heading for Swindon, which is where cool people live, so I hear. I read a book.
Me and PBear on train from London to Swindon 1204
Alex let me sit on her shoulder for a while. Trains are interesting. There was a man on his phone though, talking about business for the whole journey. I felt very sleepy and had a quick nap. When I woke up, we were in Swindon.
B cuddling PBear from behind
Mike and Alex took me to their home. I have a new owner called Bethany, who loves me very much. She makes me marmalade sandwiches every day. ☺

Inbetweeny

I haven’t written a blog post in ages, so I think it’s time for one.

Many of my blogs have been about trusting God in the really difficult times, or being thankful for the good things.

I don’t remember having written many inbetweeny posts. For those without access to a dictionary, inbetweeny is where things aren’t great and things aren’t horrendous. They are just inbetweeny. I guess that for most of us, with the notable exception of Calamity James, a large percentage of us spend most of our lives in this zone.

So, you may not know that I have been some some health problems for the last few months. I do not believe that they are in any way related to my cancer history, but it has still been unpleasant and draining.

Recently I had some investigations, which included biopsies. The nurse said that one of them was not routine. When you hear those words, some small alarm bells are set off.

I want to say that I am not anxious about this, at least 99% of the time. Having cancer has taught me to give over all this sort of stuff to God, and sharpish. I have learned that I can trust him, no matter how bleak the circumstances. So the last thing that I need to hear from anyone is ‘Be anxious for nothing.’ Thanks dude, but I learned that one the hard way and I don’t need your well-intentioned judging.

That said, show me someone who says that they never get worried about anything, and I’ll show you a liar.

And that’s what I mean by inbetweeny, because of course that’s normal. And it’s in the normal, the job stuff and health concerns and fun weekends and family times and business of life that we really need to learn to put God first. There aren’t many athiests on a lifeboat, and most of us are happy to thank God when life is awesome, but those times are just the bookends.

There are a whole lot of unreported stories, times that we may not photograph or share on Facebook, where we still, as Christians, need to learn to put God first. I’m good at trusting him with the big things, but I need to hand over all the small stuff to him too.

So that’s where I am at the moment: inbetweeny and learning to trust God with the everyday. And whenever I make the effort to focus on him, there he is with me, just like when I woke up after my operation nearly two years ago. Right in the room with us, where he always is even if we don’t notice.

 

 

A day in the life of Bethany, aged 13 and a half months