Lightning, and its unpredictable habits
If it claims not to strike twice, it speaks with forked tongue!
I just wanted to post a quick update to let folks know where we are (and why books have not materialised as intended). I think it’s fair to say we’ve had a tough several months here at the seaside.
We both started feeling unwell probably about the same time last year. I went to the doctor (a rare occasion!) and after a bunch of tests was told I had a ‘gallbladder full of stones’. I remember feeling enormously relieved – of all the things it could have been, that was probably the least worst. Front of mind was pancreatic cancer … it fitted the symptoms and kept coming up in things I read and even worked on. Thank gawd I dodged that bullet, eh! Just a shame gallstones hurt so much.
After his own set of tests, we learned to our horror that Steven, who was already dealing with a serious illness, had lymphoma. He got the full diagnosis a week before Christmas and the medical team sprang into action. He was admitted to hospital the next day and came home on Christmas Eve having had his first round of chemo.
Meanwhile the pain I was in was getting worse (my GP was zero help) and I couldn’t eat much. Neither of us could, and it all tasted horrible anyway. I was trying to support Steven, who was going through chemo cycles all this time, but I could do less and less.
Early March, I met with the surgeon who was going to ‘whip out’ my gallbladder. She was immediately concerned when she heard about the pain I was dealing with, which was atypical for gallstones, and ordered some tests.
Finally, we had some good news – Steven’s lymphoma was responding to treatment and the tumours were shrinking. (That said, the treatment is savage and that welcome gain came at a price.)
I got an appointment to go and learn the results of a CT scan. I’ll be honest, I was expecting bad news. I knew how much my health had deteriorated, and especially over the previous few weeks. I was half expecting to be told I had stomach cancer. It wasn’t that, though – it was my old friend, pancreatic cancer.
That’s a gnarly beast at the best of times, and mine is now well bedded in. It’s also incurable, as to remove it would mean yanking out some other rather necessary bits of me now attached to it. No wonder it bloody hurts!
I’ll be offered palliative care, which might involve treatment to shrink the tumours and slow the progress of the cancer – at this stage we just don’t know as more tests are needed.
Meanwhile, Steven’s about to embark on his final round of this phase of chemo. The previous round and this one were and will be more intensive, so he’s having a tough time. After this, there’s a further round of treatment scheduled that will be incredibly taxing … and I’m too weak at the moment to do the kinds of things I want to be doing to help him. It’s so bloody frustrating, for both of us, as he’s doing his best to support me too (and doing a great job of it).
Steven is the absolute best and I’m lucky to have him. We’ll find a way to get through this stuff. (Deploy black humour and swearing!)
An enormous thank you is due to Steven’s family who have been incredibly supportive, not just during the current stuff but for some time now. They’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank them enough for everything they’ve done.
Both of us with cancer at the same time, though. I didn’t have that on my 2025 bingo card. We’ve always been big on sharing stuff, but this is taking it several steps too far!
I might or might not pop back with the odd update, it depends on what I’m able to manage. So you lot take care, and thank you for supporting Bad Intent. Bye for now!
