What if...?

What if...?

That's a big question and can be applied to nearly everything we do in life. What if I turned left and not right? What if I said yes instead of no...? What if Trump hadn't won, or Brexit wasn't a fact or I'd been born in Africa not England...?

'What if' is one of those things I think crosses our mind more than we care to admit or are maybe even aware of. I have thought it a great deal over the last few months. Of course the question being what if I hadn't got this disease...? I'd be healthy, I'd be swimming and biking and walking the dogs  miles and miles over the moors. I'd be going to work, eating normally, drinking wine and enjoying the odd square of chocolate. Everything would be the same; normal, safe, uncomplicated just how it's always been.

But of course I do have cancer, or at least I did have a few weeks ago, the hope is that all this treatment has kicked it into touch. I of course have deep simmering doubts but that's to be expected and hopefully with time these doubts will get kicked into touch too.  So I got to thinking how my life has changed as a result of this curve ball. There is the obvious stuff, the unavoidable stuff, the bad stuff. The chemo and all its side effects, not least the losing of my hair (for a third time now), injection after injection, the after effects of the stem cell transplant etc etc.

However there is all the good stuff actually, the truly great stuff that wouldn't have happened this year if I hadn't got cancer. So here is bit of a list because I think it's worth noting and celebrating some of the brilliant things that have happened because these brilliant things do far more good than simply outweigh the bad things.

So in no particular order:
Two wonderful trips to Norfolk, I was feeling fit and healthy during both trips, the sun shone, the sea was warm and they were both really special and came at just at the right time.
Visits from friends far and wide, one crazy friend, Ann, drove all night just to join us for a parkrun and then drove 7 hours back home again! I have visits planned in the near future from some of my amazing friends from America...and I cant wait.
Weird and wonderful gifts sent in the post, the excitement of coming home to a package, and wondering what it might be. Yesterday I received a fabulous t-shirt from friends in Minnesota with a great picture of Paul Bunyan and Spam on it (of course!!) and I love it. I've received lots of t-shirts and hoodies all of which I absolutely love; socks, hats, books, toothpaste, homemade jams, marmalade and honey, a poster, artwork created by friends  from all over the world, some very young and some very very old! I've had plants and flowers, knitted blankets, face creams and  lollipops!  
Each and every package brings Rachel and I so much joy, opening a package or an envelope just brings you so much closer to the friend far away who put it together with all that love, care and attention. This feeling of closeness with far away friends has been a truly wonderful gift and a part of this whole experience I will never ever forget.
Postcards....hundreds and hundreds of them from every corner of the world, postcards,  each of which brings a smile and transports us to a different, new and exciting part of the world... Bali, Cuba, Zanzibar, all over America, Croatia, Tasmania, Benidorm and Legoland Windsor! to name a few!!

The women I went to camp with over 30 years ago clubbed together and bought Rachel and I tickets to see U2 in London, another friend paid for us to stay in a very swish hotel. That weekend was an absolute highlight of the year and became such a positive goal to aim for in front of the stem cell treatment that was to follow shortly after.

Those same women bought me a tiny wood burning stove for my cabin. The stove warms up the cabin, and throws a beautiful glow across its wood interior. Each crackle from the fire, each warming flame reminds me of the generosity of those friends so far away. 
Press-ups, it must be thousands and maybe thousands...from all over the world. They came from the summit of Africa'a tallest mountain, an aircraft carrier off the Falklands, the Himalayas, ski resorts and beaches, cities and countryside, all over Minnesota! Near and far every single one of these press-ups is a gift, a gift of solidarity and a gift of saying 'I'm with you'. 

If it wasn't for this disease I wouldn't have experienced this outpouring of love, this amazing sense of support and friendship, just thinking about it is overwhelming, its power is awesome and will stay with me forever. I know I've said all this before but it's such a huge deal for me, because all of this represents the community of friendship, the way we as humans and friends come together to support a friend who is struggling. We all know that love and friendship is there but when it manifests itself in such a powerful way the result is magnificent and life changing. 

Generosity from the most unlikely sources. Just this week I wrote to a local company... Devon Duvets, who make duvets and pillows using sheep's wool. They're amazing, and I bought one for my single bed whilst in hospital and then one for my double bed in the cabin as well as one earlier on in the year for our bed inside. So I wrote to them explaining how many duvets I'd bought over the last few months and why, and asked, cheekily, whether they might give me small discount off a couple of pillows. They wrote straight back and said they'd like to gift me two sheep's wool pillows! wow...they arrived today. I was bowled over by this gesture as I have been with so many acts of random kindness.

My cabin, I love my little cabin. I wouldn't have my cabin without having lymphoma too! I got a small amount of money from a critical illness policy, there to help buffer me when my sick leave runs out and money gets scarce. But instead of the sensible thing (saving it for when my wages stop coming) I spent some of money on the cabin, and all the little bits and pieces I have bought to make it how I want it inside. But I love it and it is the perfect place to just do nothing and completely relax, something I find really hard to do even though I don't have the energy to do anything. Somehow in there time stands still, the light is softer, the trees sing louder in the wind, the stars shine through the windows, I hear owls hoot all around, books seep in and music lulls about its beautiful wooden walls...it's truly wonderful. 

Don't get me wrong. I would trade everything to not have cancer, to be fit and healthy again. This disease is horrible and I'm scared for the next chapter. My recovery is slow and painful and above all frustrating. There is the ominous sense of what if it hasn't worked? What if it comes back? What if my body never fully recovers from this trauma? But those are the negative what ifs..? The ones to try and keep locked away. It's so important to draw out the many positives from all of this and to dwell on those, to relish them and hold them close. On top of the positives pile is the celebration of friendship and solidarity, and I have learned a great deal from this experience, and as long as there is room in life for friends and family then really, nothing else matters.