I understand I’m more sensative to it, but there does seem to be a lot of people with my form of cancer.
– Two of my wife’s colleagues from her teaching days or her work as a Street Pastor, (one improving, one we have no news)
– This weeks Radio Times includes a radio presenter, whose cancer had spread too far before it was caught. He is terminal.
It’s thought-provoking. Very.
Meanwhile I can see the end of my treatment coming, less than 7 weeks now.
Then I wait for the regular checkups.
I have no illusions. For a man with strong moral objections to gambling, I have placed the ultimate bet. One year of my life against the hope of many more.
If I win, I get to see my grandchildren grow up. If I lose, I lose everything.
It’s a huge risk, with a huge prize. But the alternative was no risk, just a dead certainty. (Do you know, not one doctor has cracked a smile at that joke. But I like it.)
I’ve made some decisions anyway. I’m not going to retire, I still enjoy work, but I won’t do as much, and I’ll make sure everything is fit to be taken over at short notice.
I’m going to spend more time writing. I’ve had requests to do more translation, and I’ve still got some stories inside my head, and maybe one day I can get my head around Anglo-Saxon grammar enough to actually understand it.
Meantime, apologies for the messup with the last post. Finger trouble. Sorry!