There is no photo at the top of this post because there isn’t one which could cover everything that I am going to say. The three weeks since my last post have been a bit busy with appointments and it has been a whirlwind of emotions and news. There have been bad times, sad times and glad times.

Bad

Last week was definitely worse than the others.

On Thursday I went for my PET scan. The scan is normally very easy. They inject a radioactive dye into you and you wait for an hour until the dye flows through your body. Then you go into the scanner, lie still on your back for 30 minutes while the scanner moves over you taking 3D pictures. Easy – but not for me! I cannot lie on my back for more than a minute without the pain kicking in, so it was 29 minutes of pain, 29 minutes of prayer for relief, 29 minutes fighting to keep still even though the pain raking through me was forcing me to move, and 15 minutes begging them to stop, Eventually it was over and they let me sit up, but I was shaking in shock. I couldn’t stand. I got through it and they helped me to the car.

On Friday, I had the appointment with the Oncologist. She went through my case notes and asked me questions. She didn’t have the report of the PET scan but she called the image up on the screen and there were bright spots everywhere, which is not what you want.

She told me that the original rectal cancer was inoperable and has spread to my lymphatic system very quickly. It then spread to my liver and to my bones. The bright spots on the PET scan show that lymph nodes in my pelvis, abdomen and chest are all involved.

Three weeks earlier, the colorectal consultant had said that I would get palliative chemotherapy and that this would help reduce the lymphoedema swelling which is now everywhere. However, the Oncologist said on Friday that I was not well enough for chemo and that, in my current state, it would only make things worse. She has put me on a course of steroids which may help and she will review me again next Friday.

We asked what the prognosis is. How long have I got?

If I don’t have chemotherapy, I have 2 or 3 months. If I do have chemo, I have between 12 and 18 months.

We came away in shock, but I think we had both expected it.

Sad

Libby and I had a sad time when we got home, and there have been times when we cried together, times when we have cried on our own. But we are still fighting this. The news on Friday was confirmation of what we thought might be the case, but God is in charge here. He can change things in an instant. We have our sad moments, but they are mere moments!

Probably the saddest thing of the last few days has been telling other people. I’m not sad for me – I’m sad for them, because I can see or hear their sadness.

I had a total shift in my thought process a couple of weeks ago when my daughter Lisa drove up from Cornwall to see me. When she was leaving, we hugged and I started to cry because I thought, “This might be the last time I ever see my wee girl.” It immediately hit me how self-centred I was being! It’s not about me – it might be the last time she ever sees me! She will have a lifetime to live without seeing me.

That is what is sad about telling others. It’s not about what is happening to me – it’s about what happens to them! I feel so sad to think of the sadness that Libby, Simon and Lisa, my mum and all the rest of my family and friends will go through.

That is why it is difficult to tell people. I don’t want to hurt them. I also don’t want them feeling sorry for me. I know it’s natural but, as you will see below, it’s not needed. I am strong and content. I know that I am in God’s hands, and if I am going anywhere in the next few months, I know where I am going!

Glad

You might be wondering how I can even think of being glad, let alone write about it. But I have so many reasons to be glad.

For one thing, the doctor has told me that I have between 2 and 18 months to live. I am going to take that as an absolute promise. I know that I don’t face the risk of walking across the road tomorrow and getting knocked down by a bus, because I have at least two months before that can happen!

I am glad because I have had a wonderful life where the happy times have far outweighed the sad times. I have laughed so much in my 72 years! I have had 23 years of laughter with my wonderful wife, Libby. I am really glad because all that happiness and all that laughter is still happening and it is my goal and Libby’s goal that it will keep happening! There are and will be times where the pain kicks in. There are and will be times where the tears start. But they don’t and won’t stay – the laughter and joy soon wipes them out!

I’m glad because this has brought everything into focus for me. I’ve talked about it before in previous posts – it’s about getting priorities right, thinking the right way about the right things and living life to the full. That is what Libby and I are intent on doing. We don’t know how much time we have left, so we are not going to waste any of it – we are going to look for the joy and go for it!

I’m glad because a lot of people are speaking to me and are amazed at my strength and courage as I go through this. It gives me a chance to tell them about my faith in God. It gives me a chance to tell them to live every day as if it is their last and to have the same strength and courage as I have – whether they do or don’t or want or won’t have the same faith as me. The human race is a failure when it comes to making the most of life, and that needs to change!

None of us knows if there will be a tomorrow. Nearly all of us forget that the mortality rate in every country in the world is 100%. It comes to us all, sooner or later.

It’s time to live today as if it is the last, to make the most of it in case there is no tomorrow!