I have just read a few of the posts here from the second half of several Julys. In fact, this is the sixth July that I have been writing this blog.
That is good news.
The first one didn’t mention my birthday at all, which I find a little strange, looking back. I was in a complete state of flux then, although I probably wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone – stiff upper lip, and all that. Face up to your troubles like a man.
I do recall crying my eyes out on the M62 that evening, on the drive home from work, wondering how many birthdays I had left in me. Well, in 2009, I was 48. And now I’m 53 and I’m still here, writing nonsense on this blog. So that’s good news, provided you don’t mind the nonsense.
In 2010, I had just finished my chemo. FOUR years ago! Sheesh! I was asking myself some questions and deciding that I had until Christmas that year to answer them. They remain un-answered.
By 2011 and 2012, I was into the maintenance period, but that came to an end two years ago and in 2013, it was a steady as she goes year.
I’ve written here ad-nauseum about diagnosis, prognosis, life-expectancy and all the rest of it, and I have written about the love and support I get from family and friends. This support is freely given and most gratefully received every week of the year, of course, but it’s always nice to be thought of when it’s your birthday. And I would like to use this opportunity to publicly thank everyone who kindly offered their birthday wishes, bought me presents and generally made my life better last week and every week. I am very grateful.
At the weekend, on the Saturday night, we stayed at The Inn at Whitewell, in the Forest of Bowland, a few miles north of Clitheroe. It’s a pretty posh place, where we have stayed once before many years ago, and had some lovely lunches since. This time, we enjoyed a good meal with our two oldest friends who had driven from their home a few miles away. Despite the forecast of potential thunderstorms, there were photos like this one to be had.
Not a bad view from the window…
So, what will future birthdays hold? I don’t know any more than the next man or woman, of course, but as things go, I won’t be doing any more crying about the potential lack of them any time soon.
And that is good news.
Many blessings counted? ✓