Back to the Future!

I guess I should start by putting you out of your misery re Nick's movie cliffhangers from last week in case you didn't get them. So it was something to do with Princess Leia shooting JR in the year 2047 wasn't it?

This week has felt like coming back to the here and now after a little bit of time travel actually. As Nick mentioned in her last post, we've had a few weeks in a parallel universe, heads in the sand, heads in the clouds, heads in sunhats. Nick's hair grew back (and looks fabulous!), we swam in the warm shallow sea in Norfolk, in the deep black velvety water of 

Pinkery Pond with buzzards hanging lazily in the air above us, in the river Barle near our house with tiny fish nibbling our toes and damsel flies flashing by black and blue, in the local indoor pool where Nick got in after not swimming for 6 months and casually swam 50 lengths without stopping, upping this to 100 lengths after a few days. We certainly made the most of the permission to swim given by Dr Veale. We knew it would be short-lived and you have to make the most of these things! We were lucky that most of this time also coincided with glorious weather so we could be outside as much as possible, breakfast in the garden, long walks, paddling in the river with the dogs, shorts, flip-flops, sunglasses, ice in your drinks, summer stuff. Nick's body also made the most of a few weeks without chemo poisoning it. Her immunity improved, she felt well and full of energy, no nasty side effects, no aches and pains. Maybe lymphoma was making the most of this break as well though....we still can't be sure.

When you know something has to come to an end you treasure every moment, notice every detail, feel it because you are keenly aware of its magnitude and that is such a liberating way to live. We knew this time couldn't last forever, that we'd have to get our heads out of the clouds, put the swimming kit away and open the medicine drawer again at some point.

We've come back to earth with a bump but our heads are still in the clouds; literal clouds now though. The weather has changed, Exmoor is nestled in its familiar mist, everything is dripping with the internal workings of the cloud; rain before it falls and gathers momentum is gentler but no less wet. Those stiflingly hot days are gone, the garden chairs are folded away, cushions under cover, not a sunhat in sight, waterproofs are back in vogue. Nick still has hair but she also has a mouth full of ulcers. I mean FULL. You've had a mouth ulcer right? She felt sick for a few days, has a sore throat, aching ribs, and today, despite 10hrs sleep she barely had the energy to walk up the hill in the rainforest woods when we took the dogs out. She is forcing herself to drink full fat milk because tomorrow's stem cell harvest is likely to deplete her calcium reserves. The medicine drawer is back in action; anti-sickness drugs, steroids, painkillers, daily injections in the stomach, thighs, lower back, drugs to protect the stomach from all the drugs. I can feel myself being less relaxed, more touchy, worried about the next step....we've come Back to the Future.

None of you are picturing Nick lying around feeling sorry for herself because of all these horrible things are you? No, of course not. Nick doesn't do that. She does press-ups, she walks the dogs (all five of them at the moment thanks to our two regular Glastonbury orphans, Dizzy and Elvis!), she creates magic in the kitchen and enjoys eating good food with a glass of wine, she keeps on keeping on. Her head is brimming with her latest creative project which is gathering steam, keeping her focussed, busy with preparation (and a bit frustrated with her eagerness to get it underway) but you'll get to hear about that soon enough.

So tomorrow we'll spend the day at Exeter hospital, first for blood tests (and then while we wait for results hopefully we'll be allowed out for an hour to get some breakfast, I'm thinking Bill's!!) and then the 'harvest', about 4hrs when Nick will have a big needle in each arm, one to take her blood out and one to put it back in after it has passed through a machine which 'skims off' the stem cells. Meanwhile I'll be trying to keep her occupied, feed her and get drinks into her as she will not be able to move her arms at all! It could get messy. Actually I may skip the drinks as she won't be able to go to the toilet for the duration of the harvest either! And then at 5pm we should find out whether they got enough stem cells or whether we have to do it all over again on Tuesday. And maybe Wednesday too. Nick's downloaded a few films to watch, I've packed a book. You just have to make the most of these things...

Meanwhile my achilles tendon injury is finally easing and I have started running again. Not very far and not very quickly (not that I was ever quick!!) but running nevertheless so I'm hoping that I will still be able to complete the Great North Run in September. The Lymphoma Association have kindly said that if the injury does prevent me from participating then I can defer my place, either to another half marathon or to the same event next year. Di has kindly said that she will defer her place too if that happens and join me in whatever event I do. We are very close to reaching our £3000 target and after feeling very bad for a while about the prospect of letting people down I have come to terms with the possibility of not being able to run and hope that the extra time would just give us time to raise even more money!! Here is a link to our fundraising page 


https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/run-or-die

I don't have a natty conclusion here I'm afraid although I do always try to remember the old adage that rain always looks worse through a window. In other words, once you're out there it is rarely as bad as you expected it to be. Let's hope that that rings true with other things too. Although it probably has as much to do with your attitude as the quality of your waterproofs...