A couple of weeks before Christmas, eighteen members of my extended family, from Southampton, Bristol, London, Jersey, and Scotland, and aged between a couple of months and…considerably older, descended on a pub in Fulham.

It was all a bit chaotic and over far too quickly, not something we’d been able to do in such numbers for almost a decade but was still lovely and London really is quite special around Christmas time.

Events like this are a reminder about making the effort to see others, and I’ve been trying much harder.

They’re also now a Christmas tradition in which either me or my partner manages to get covid or another tropical disease just before the festive period really kicks in!

2024 seems to be keen on challenges so why not add a hocking cough and fever to the mix on the morning that I was due back into hospital for blood tests.

I felt like a bit of a fraud calling up the oncology helpline and spluttering down the phone like I was trying to be more convincing but realistically, I knew it meant I would have to postpone my next chemotherapy cycle.

Merry Christmas!

This meant that I would have been drug free for almost two weeks on the big day and hopefully the side effects that go with it would have also disappeared. Of course, it meant the treatment would continue longer, but it was nice to have a “normal” Christmas Day, rather than making sure to take my chemo pills with a glass of Bucks Fizz or interrupting charades for my next dose.

So after a Boxing Day of leftovers and cheese, it was back to the ward at 9am for Cycle 4.

For the observant out there, Cycle 4 was due to be the end of my chemotherapy leading into a happy, prosperous and cancer free new year.

It might still be all those things but sadly Cycle 4 is not the end. This feels more like the end of Lord of the Rings.

There were signs.

Mainly my oncologist saying he’d messaged a colleague in London who reckoned eight cycle was best.

I took this as a “if we really have to” rather than a certainty but the issue is that there isn’t really an all clear after the final cycle. It’s just a case of monitoring to make sure nothing appears in the future.

So if possible, why wouldn’t you give it as many rounds as possible.

Put it another way, what is the minimum extension to your life expectancy for which you’d not bother trying?

If it gives me another sunset, another Saints win (I might be waiting that long), a few more moments with my family and friends, another bowl of noodles, or another cold beer, I’d do almost anything.

So if I have to go through another four cycles of neuropathy, headaches, nausea, diarrhoea, fatigue and hospital visits then bring it on.

Happy New Year!

New Year’s Eve was very underwhelming. Not because of the above but perhaps because I was now a couple of days into cycle 4 plus life just doing its thing.

In December, I’d joined a challenge known as Marcothon with the goal of running three miles or 25 minutes, whichever came first, every day of the month.

I’ve attempted it 10 times and 2024 was only the fourth time I’d completed it. When you consider I’ve done it through two rounds of chemotherapy, you have to wonder what my excuses have been in the past…

Anyway, you can read a bit more about it here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/czr3j3rm7r3o

But it was still a big achievement personally and really couldn’t have done it without the daily support of 20 or so Rock N Road Runners who joined me in the challenge. Sometimes I cursed them when I woke up and saw they’d already completed their runs, but mainly it inspired me to get out, despite the weather and side-effects – I couldn’t be the weakest link in the group if I’d set it up!

Last Friday I took the last pills of Cycle 4. After my body’s adverse during the last cycle, I’m on a slightly lower dose and touch wood, it’s gone pretty well. I think if it was a bit warmer, I’d be doing even better. So I’ve next week I’m off to Copenhagen for a few days having rescheduled from last year. Thoughts and prayers welcome – it’s going to be interesting