Wel it’s not exactly an “I told you so” occasion. But for two key moments in my illness I’ve known what’s left of my crumbling body well enough to get ahead of the game.
The return of my big buttock tumour in the summer was the first moment. It took three months for that to turn into a scan and an extra month to turn into a drug change. But I knew my cancer was back in force.
What I didn’t realise was the extent of the damage it would do. But reading back some of my posts over the last few weeks it’s clear that I understood where my body is failing me. And that was all finally confirmed by Oncobabe yesterday.
Now there’s little doubt that had the drug change happened instantly, I wouldn’t have travelled to New England, Chile or the South West USA. Great experiences would have been lost.
Equally, a drug change at that moment may well have protected those bones that are currently wasting away. But perhaps the cancer resistance to osiminertinib would have hit sooner. And I’d be heading down to chemotherapy and a more rapid departure from the world now, rather than hanging on in there a little bit longer.
So it’s no regrets that I got those trips in. A positive that I’m still here. Still fighting, even if fighting is the wrong word. But I need to take stock of what adjustments I need to make for my hips to cope with the coming months. My instinct of wanting to do everything for myself needs to be reigned in a little. Accepting support from others is part of that. Pride should not be more important than my reality.
And a real appreciation to those who provide help or just offer it cannot be understated.