Mists of Time

In October, I became a new member of an exclusive, totally informal, slightly secretive, local club - there's no membership fee but we each know through the grape vine who most of the other members are. Small town gossip is probably what introduced us to each other. We are all at different stages of living with cancer and getting palliative treatment in some form - some have chemotherapy, some surgery, some 'best supportive care'. There's an unspoken sharing when we meet of how we are all living with an uncertain future, but we are all seen to be positive - smiles, hugs and encouragement - even in the High Street!

How does one approach the future at "this time of the year"?

The angel and I see ourselves walking into a mist or a cloud - a whiteness that retreats as we move through it across stepping stones. Various things come out of the mist as we progress. Firstly, there are regular markers - expected and routine like the days of the next week, chemotherapy dates and appointments, visits and expeditions. Others are more special and irregular. At first some seemed too far off in the mist to hope or plan for but have now appeared, been relished and enjoyed and now live behind us in happy memories - a family weekend away in Peebles in November, regular long distance visitors, the practice party (last week), Christmas (this week). Some things materialise and then lurch completely unexpectedly out of the whiteness (like the operation!).

Looking back at the original, untreated prognosis of 2-4 months in early October, we are so fortunate and have come a long way with lots of help and encouragement. Now new mile markers are being talked about - further away in the mist - we don't see them all so clearly yet, though others do and we share their excitement :-

• a CT scan in late December to help the oncologist decide if further treatment is appropriate
  
• more treatment or abandon it - to be decided in early January
  
• back to part time work in the Spring
• in longer days, a weekend away to see countryside in the Spring
  
• a wedding in May in Surrey
  
• a special baby in June
  
• new jobs in August
  

For us they remain less definable and still enshrouded in the mist ahead - good to talk about and great to look forward to.

Is the mist frightening? I don't think it has to be. Like parts of long distance running, perhaps the important part of the process is to keep concentrating on what can be achieved now, dealing with it in small chunks, staying focussed on the steps, the stepping stones, the passing mile markers, and enjoying the companions one is blessed with.

It certainly doesn't help to let thoughts run riot and out of control - there may be "nasties" in the mist but thinking about what they might be like will only steal something precious from the present - so it is not a healthy pastime!

In the meantime, the walk through the mist is going ok. The view behind is wonderful, the company is superb, the encouragement from all sorts of directions is immensely helpful and the treatment is working.