It’s an inevitability of the condition. Last night I felt a twisting feeling in my hip. Instant thought “that’s a tumour pain”. By the time I’d woken to admire yet another England batting collapse, it had gone away.
I sneezed violently this morning. A sharp pain in my shoulder. It must be the cancer I thought, as the pain didn’t dissipate quickly. A few hours later it’s gone.
I’ve had a few nights pain free from where I could previously feel my shrunken pelvic tumour. Last night I was sure it was back. This morning I knew it most definitely wasn’t.
The illness, the diagnosis, the likelihood of a short lifespan for osimertinib being a success and the confusing realities of age / fitness related aches and strains play tricks with the mind.
My fitness is lacking because I don’t exercise as walking is tough. So I end up with pains when i do something to exhert myself a little. I’m sat here anticipating the failure of this drug, when the reality is that it seems to be working well. For now.
I don’t want the drug to fail, even though it inevitably will one day, probably next year. I don’t want to go through chemotherapy knowing it’ll add about four months to my life, but I don’t want to be in a position where I know I’ve given up. But there is a reality that the day will come.
My eldest is moving in with his other half next month. My middlest seems very happy in her married life. And Chris seems happy in his studies.
And I really want to be around as long as possible to see them progress successfully through life. To spend time with Rachel who is a fantastic companion. To carry on watching Oldham Athletic be quite good for the first time in a decade.
Still hoping. Even if it is a long shot.