The last word

I often wondered just what it would take for me to be able to keep up with Nick swimming a kilometre in the pool. Over the last few years I could've trained harder, improved my swim technique, listened to Nick when she suggested I do swim 'sets' instead of simply ploughing up and down the pool or across the moorland pond. Turns out all I had to do was to wait for Nick to get cancer, have nine months of chemotherapy topped off with gruelling BEAM chemo and a stem cell transplant losing 15% of her body weight in the process (all muscle as she had no fat to lose!) and bingo! I swam alongside her for a whole kilometre this morning!!! I'll let you draw your own conclusions about my commitment and dedication to training versus Nick's determination and drive to get fit! At least one of us is moving in the right direction!

As Nick said in her post last week we are winding down the blog for the time being but it probably won't be gone for good I don't think. So this will be my last piece for now. It's a funny thing this blog. We slipped into the habit of writing every weekend, taking it in turns to put together a few words about what had been happening, how we'd been feeling and what we had to look forward to. Or to fear. A few people have asked whether it was a chore or a catharsis. The answer is definitely 'both'. Every Thursday or Friday the question would come....'Have you thought about the blog? Do you know what you're going to write about?' This, smugly from whoever wrote last week's blog and the reply, every week....'No! Not a clue!' So, yes it felt like a chore, like homework but once you sat down with a deadline, a blank page and an empty head the words just seemed to come. Or at least the ideas would come, sometimes the words were more of a struggle and we'd often help each other out with that, putting the meat on the bones. While Nick was particularly ill she just couldn't do it but otherwise we have managed to keep to the schedule we accidentally set ourselves. But through those ideas and words that seemingly came from nowhere we were able to process our thoughts, individually and collectively. It was often a time where we really talked together about what had been swimming around in our heads that week so it truly was a beneficial activity for us both and now we have quite a body of work, a legacy of the last year. So it will be both a relief and a wrench to leave the blog behind. It also feels like a regular, tangible connection to a lot of people so I think we'll miss it!

As well as the blog we have so many reminders, mementos of this unexpected year. Nick has a lot, a LOT of new hats and scarves for instance! She has her beautiful, cosy cabin full of lovely things, truly a place to relax and recover in peace. She also has the most amazing postcard collection for which I know she expressed her gratitude in a recent blog but about which I also want to share some fabulous facts....

The idea originally came from a group of very special friends in the US with whom we went on a life-changing canoe trip in northern Minnesota in 2015. They thought it would be fun to send Nick on a virtual road-trip around the states while she was in hospital. I thought we could go bigger than just the USA so opened up the idea to friends and family, hoping Nick might also get a few cards from around the UK and maybe people's overseas holidays. But the word spread and the postcard project took on a life of its own!
In order for it to be a surprise for Nick, our friends Di and Jon kindly allowed us to give out their address for the cards as we'd be living with them for the whole time that Nick was in and out of hospital for the month of her final treatment. Unbeknown to Nick the postcards started arriving at their house in June and continued to arrive until October, totalling around 455 eventually. Four hundred and fifty-five postcards! Bonkers! 

68 different people/families sent cards. Special mention goes to Steph Taylor who sent 23 cards but other distinguished senders include Emily Wolf Schaffer, Amanda Bird and family, Susie Anderson Wilson and Peter Dennett.
37 different countries of the world were represented.
Cards came from 30 different US states and 43 counties in the UK.
Other than the UK and US, France was the winning country with 16 cards.
Minnesota was the top state, not surprising given Nick's connections with that place of lakes and memories, with 35 postcards.
The UK counties with the most cards were Suffolk and East Sussex with 19 each.
There were many, many cards from people we had never met, friends of friends as the idea had been shared and spread. And it is said that social media has a negative impact on 'proper communication'!
Our friend Tracey and I spent a pleasant couple of hours a few weeks ago sorting through all the postcards, tallying facts and figures while Nick teased us for having multiple lists and charts, annoyed us by deliberately switching cards from one pile to another messing up our system and finally left us to it and dozed in her cabin tired from too much meddling! So thank you Tracey for humouring my need to count and record! I did create some graphs and bar charts but I won't bore you with those!
Nick has a great plan for all these postcards. Once we've sorted it out we'll post some pictures so watch this space.

Ever since being given permission to swim by Dr Dave Nick has been keen to get back in the sea. We didn't manage it in Norfolk. We had wetsuits and there were some sunny calm days but we couldn't quite pluck up the courage to take the plunge. Having lost so much weight Nick feels the cold so it was easy to find excuses not to swim! But this week a few people we regularly swim with here on the North Devon coast were planning a night swim as conditions were set to be perfect. Again it would have been so easy to stay at home in front of the fire rather than scraping ice off the windscreen and driving 20 miles on a frosty night to get into the still, black sea. But this time we resisted the lure of cosiness and met with three other hardy souls in a pitch black car park, heaved heavy rucsacs onto our backs and climbed the steep, steep lane to the clifftop path that lead down twisting steps to the hidden little cove. Nick was surprised at how breathless this short climb made her, those lungs have a way to go yet before she feels fit but as soon as we turned downhill she was fine. There was no moon, just stars above us and these were mostly behind clouds by the time we actually got into the water which meant the air temperature rose a tiny bit. We slipped quietly into the silky black icy water but within seconds we were all exclaiming, not because of the cold but because the sea was sparkling with bioluminescence, white flashing diamonds shining in the wake of our hands and feet moving through the water. The conditions were perfect for this; no moon, calm seas and a dark beach hidden from almost all local lights by high cliffs. It was wonderful.
 Nick felt very emotional to be back in the water and we all felt privileged and so thankful to be there with her. Not being able to see each other gave us all time for some quiet reflection. Andrew had sensibly lit a tiny fire on the beach so we could firstly find our way back to our waiting clothes and then sit close to it to share hot drinks from our flasks and a bar of dark chocolate.

Photo courtesy of Andrew Wilson

 As the tide had dropped we were able to make our way back to the car park by traversing the rocks at the top of the beach rather than climbing those steep steps back to the road. This path through the rocks was cut by smugglers hundreds of years ago, steps hewn into the base of the cliffs, up and down weaving secretly from the cove to the bigger beach. As we carefully negotiated these limpet-strewn steps and terraces our torchlight picked out life in the rock pools on either side; pink, green and brown seaweed fronds, scuttling crabs, shrimps with eyes glowing bright white and prehistoric-looking creatures resembling trilobites creeping past us! We didn't spend much time in the sea, we hardly swam really, just bobbed about enjoying the sensation of cold water and gazing at the phosphorescence below us and a few stars above but the whole evening was brilliant and was such a notable step in Nick's recovery, a step away from disease and treatment, a step towards normality, fitness and a reminder of what is important, why it's so good to be alive. And to be thriving not just surviving. Swimming in the sea, swimming in the pool, things are going swimmingly and we are moving forward stroke by stroke, step by step. And for now I'm keeping up!!

Whilst we were away in Norfolk a friend found out that the breast cancer she had beaten three years ago has come back. She shared some fascinating research she had been reading which looked at the healing effects of love in all its forms; love from friends and family, love for friends and family, love between lovers, physical love, feeling love for animals, the natural world, for life. This is how we've reached this point and how we've not only survived this year but mostly thrived throughout it. Love. The last word. Love.