The Waiting Room

Some of the things I've been waiting for are nearly over.

Back at the end of May I decided to buy a small cabin for the garden. Usually every summer I sleep outside as much as I can but this year I just didn't feel like sleeping on the ground, so I started looking at cabins and camping pods as they are now called.  I got a small amount of money from a critical illness plan I took out years ago...(there's a lesson there, make sure you have illness protection policies in place if you can). Anyway I talked to my lovely financial advisor, Edward, who said if he was in my shoes he wouldn't put the money into the mortgage he'd go to Antarctica! In other words 'do something that will make you happy with the money' so I thought I'd buy a small cabin for the garden so I could sleep outside closer to the trees and under the sky. Its one of those decisions that is different once you have an illness like cancer. Maybe your attitude to life and how you spend it shifts a little, you see things differently. It's not that things become clearer it's just that values change, perspectives are altered and well, lets face it...life's too short not to live in the moment every now again rather than worry about the what ifs and the sensible decisions like putting money into the mortgage. No all of a sudden a cabin feels like the best way to spend the money. Or maybe a trip to the Antarctic...who knows?

The cabin would also make a great place to spend time later on, after my treatment just recovering in a nice warm and cosy space. Not that our house isn't nice and warm and cosy but, well you know, there's something about being in a wooden cabin in the woods....

The cabin should have arrived fully built in the middle of July but various incidents delayed it by 6 weeks!! That, I don't mind admitting has been really tough. I just wanted it to arrive, I wanted to get going on the things I had planned for the inside; install a small wood burning stove, have a bed built in there and a sky-light built in too...and then just spend some of this time before my stem cell treatment relaxing in there. However, events conspired against this plan and it finally arrived on Monday....Yay!! Quite a sight seeing it being lifted high over the hedge on a great big crane and lowered gingerly into place. I couldn't watch so I spent most of the time pruning roses with my back to the drama!!

Since then I have slept in it every night and lots of lovely people have been round to take a look with a view to hopefully getting the work that needs doing on it completed whilst I'm in hospital. That month is going to crawl by but when I get out I'll have that to look forward to. So John from work is going to build a bed, David the carpenter is going to put in two sky-lights and Chris is installing the stove ....as they say here in Devon "ideal!" Oh not forgetting Jon who has already installed the electricity...Thank you to all of these brilliant people. Another thing I love about the cabin is that after the first night nature had already begun to move in with glistening spiders' webs spanning its corners and moths sheltering in the eaves...perfect.
When it's all done I will of course share pictures especially of the cute little stove which has an amazing story all of its own which I'll also share once it's in and looking the part. 

The cabin waiting is almost over now, just the last few bits to do and then I can live in it! I think it's a similar story with my treatment. When I was first diagnosed with this strain of Lymphoma Dr. Veale explained that all the chemo was leading up to the final part of the treatment ...the BEAM chemo with Stem cell transplant. This has always been the goal, the thing everything has been leading up to and because it's a big deal it's been in the back of my mind and Rachel's mind every single day. And now it's only a couple of days away.

 I opted to provide my own stem cells (Autologous Transplant), so my stem cells that were harvested at the end of June are sitting, frozen in liquid nitrogen waiting to be put back in. First I have 7 days of really intensive Chemotherapy to wipe just about everything out, including my bone marrow. Then the stem cells are transplanted back into my body to allow blood cell recovery which would otherwise be irreversibly damaged by the chemo. This chemo wipes out your entire immune system so the length of the stay in hospital is to protect you from infection until the new stem cells mature and start to do that job. Dr. Veale says that infections and anaemia are inevitable so there will also be high dose antibiotics and blood transfusions to help combat these delights. A month of that and then hopefully this disease will have had enough. 

A few more days to go, actually as I write this it's 4 more days....with a sense of 'impending doom'! A friend asked me how I was feeling with it all being so close and I was trying to explain to her; it's kind of like I have these few days where I want to do nice things, things that matter, things that make me smile but at the same time I don't know where to start. I explained that when the house was threatened with flooding a few years ago and water was seeping under the front door Rachel and I were faced with this awful prospect of filthy river water surging into the house. We had spent hours in the storm trying the sure up the door but when it failed we wandered round the house not knowing what to try and pick up, what to save...I remember picking up a box of matches and not anything of value, either sentimental or monetary!! (luckily the damage was minimal in the end). It's like there's just so much I want to do that the feelings are all a bit overwhelming so it's hard to know what to actually get out there and do.
I also do feel apprehensive and a bit scared. It might hurt, it probably will, I don't want to be ill or feel sick or weak or sad. I don't want to not be at home with Rachel and the dogs and the moorland. I don't want to not do the first Exmoor Open Water Swim event! I don't want to be in one room for 4 weeks with no open window. Luckily though these feelings don't come to the surface very often, mostly I feel like I'm in good physical and mental shape, I have brilliant friends and family and that this month will fly by and it'll all be fine. Whatever happens I'm still going to do at least one press-up every day whilst I'm in there.

But before it happens I know I will swim one more time in the dark peaty waters of the pond, I will walk the dogs across the moor and eat up all the amazing moorland views, I will eat some of my favourite foods, and just spend the last few days with Rachel feeling well and happy and getting ready emotionally for the next and final step....the waiting is nearly over, thank you for being with me through all of it.