This is an unashamed, self-indulgent Blog. I say that by way of explanation and without apology.
When I wrote the words that are the first posting on this Blog it didn't occur to me that they might be regarded as gloomy and negative. In fact, despite the fact that it was 'one of those days' I thought that I felt upbeat and positive and that the posting had been quite funny in a peculiar sort of way. It was only when Marcel pointed out that he had taken it to be all doom and gloom that I realised that either my subconscious had ruled my conscious brain when I had penned the words or, alternatively, I had completely misjudged my use of words.
I'm still not sure which scenario is accurate and I still think that the posting was a positive portrayal of a pretty negative and shitty day.
Anyway (I used to use that word a great deal in letters. I wonder if I still do in emails.) the comments did make me think - an achievement in themselves! I wondered if I was still as positive about my cancer as I have always been. When I was first diagnosed in September 1998 it never even crossed my mind that I was about to die. After the operation I recall standing at the window of the ward in Raigmore Hospital looking south along the A9 and wondering if the pain was worth it. I'd had no pain or discomfort before the operation. Of course it was and nearly 10 years down the line I've had all this extra life that, sans intervention, I would not have had. During those ten years it has never (well, as the Captain of HMS Pinnafore would say, 'hardly ever') occurred to me that my life was in any immediate form of danger from the cancer. That was even with the knowledge from the day I was discharged from Raigmore that the cancer had not been completely caught and the treatment that I have had since then.
I have come to the conclusion that there is no incompatibility between positive thought and the realisation that something could happen. To think otherwise is to adopt the ostrich approach and deny reality. The comment has been made to me that we could all pop off this mortal coil at any time at a moment's notice. Correct. Every time we fly the plane could crash. Every time we sail the boat could sink. Every time we drive a car, cross a road....... However the difference is that we don't dwell on those possibilities and they have a remoteness which is impersonal. Cancer is not. It is very personal when it's you that it's growing in.
When Andrew was being treated for cancer he wrote a blog. Some of the entries are heart-wrenching. Yet Andrew was one of the most positive of victims. He had so much to live for.
I've had a very good innings so far and whist I don't expect to make it into the 90s as the great majority of my family has done I don't expect to be missing the next croquet season! After all my life now is as happy and contented as it has ever been: perhaps more so.
So with that in mind I shall write the occasional posting in this blog to remind me about 'things'.
When I wrote the words that are the first posting on this Blog it didn't occur to me that they might be regarded as gloomy and negative. In fact, despite the fact that it was 'one of those days' I thought that I felt upbeat and positive and that the posting had been quite funny in a peculiar sort of way. It was only when Marcel pointed out that he had taken it to be all doom and gloom that I realised that either my subconscious had ruled my conscious brain when I had penned the words or, alternatively, I had completely misjudged my use of words.
I'm still not sure which scenario is accurate and I still think that the posting was a positive portrayal of a pretty negative and shitty day.
Anyway (I used to use that word a great deal in letters. I wonder if I still do in emails.) the comments did make me think - an achievement in themselves! I wondered if I was still as positive about my cancer as I have always been. When I was first diagnosed in September 1998 it never even crossed my mind that I was about to die. After the operation I recall standing at the window of the ward in Raigmore Hospital looking south along the A9 and wondering if the pain was worth it. I'd had no pain or discomfort before the operation. Of course it was and nearly 10 years down the line I've had all this extra life that, sans intervention, I would not have had. During those ten years it has never (well, as the Captain of HMS Pinnafore would say, 'hardly ever') occurred to me that my life was in any immediate form of danger from the cancer. That was even with the knowledge from the day I was discharged from Raigmore that the cancer had not been completely caught and the treatment that I have had since then.
I have come to the conclusion that there is no incompatibility between positive thought and the realisation that something could happen. To think otherwise is to adopt the ostrich approach and deny reality. The comment has been made to me that we could all pop off this mortal coil at any time at a moment's notice. Correct. Every time we fly the plane could crash. Every time we sail the boat could sink. Every time we drive a car, cross a road....... However the difference is that we don't dwell on those possibilities and they have a remoteness which is impersonal. Cancer is not. It is very personal when it's you that it's growing in.
When Andrew was being treated for cancer he wrote a blog. Some of the entries are heart-wrenching. Yet Andrew was one of the most positive of victims. He had so much to live for.
I've had a very good innings so far and whist I don't expect to make it into the 90s as the great majority of my family has done I don't expect to be missing the next croquet season! After all my life now is as happy and contented as it has ever been: perhaps more so.
So with that in mind I shall write the occasional posting in this blog to remind me about 'things'.
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