The Reality.

“The pain is killing me!” I complained, holding onto my leg.  

“Go take some pain killers.” Faisal replied.

“No, I mean literally killing me. There is a tumour in my pelvis, and it is killing me.”

My hilarious joke fell on deaf ears, as Faisal gave me one of his ‘shouldn’t you know better?’ looks (which I later learnt was actually his ‘what are you going on about’ looks, as he hadn’t understood the joke).  

It wasn’t the first time I had cracked a rather inappropriate joke about my illness, although in all fairness, a lot of people act like I’m completely okay, not least of all the team at the Teenage and Young Adults ward at the Macmillan centre at UCLH. Now, don’t get me wrong, they are a lovely bunch; the doctors, nurses and the volunteers who are present almost every day, doing activities with the patients and their families, but sometimes it comes across like these activities are part of a plan to distract the patients from what really is going on. Every couple of weeks there will be a new project to work on, and everyone will be encouraged to join in and contribute.

So one day, whilst doing one of these activities (poem writing, which I was successfully pulled into doing, although rather disappointingly, I lost the poems after writing them), one of the other patients made his way over to our table. I had seen him once before, but had not gotten round to sharing names or stories. Clearly he was a very popular figure amongst the volunteers, as they all immediately got up and started chatting with him, and asking about other patients. I wasn’t eavesdropping – I promise I wasn’t – but when one of the volunteers asked him about a certain patient, he went quiet, and whispered ‘She passed away.’ The group went silent, as if paying their respects.

It was then, after a long time, that I was reminded of how serious my situation was. No, this wasn’t just some illness I was living with, and it definitely wasn’t some illness I should forget about. This was life-threatening. And no matter how much I try to distract myself, the reality of the situation is this – I am terminally ill, and there is nothing that can be done about it.

Lesson of the Day:

- It is easy to lose track of reality, but it will catch up with you, and when it does, just make sure you’ve prepared yourself. 

The Almost-Fatal Walk.

Every now and then, I’ll come across an article stressing the importance of exercise for patients with cancer. Apparently, the more oxygen in the body, the more the cancer cells will starve, preventing growth and in some cases, even contributing to regression. So I will instantly throw everything aside, and make big plans of taking long, romantic walks with Faisal, or more truthfully, anyone who is willing to come with me (the romanticism still stands, for those of you keen to come with me – I don’t discriminate). However, not everyone is as free as I am, so I often find that these plans remain plans, and the only type of walking I get done through the day, ends up being the walking around the flat (mostly to and from the kitchen, actually).

So when Faisal was free one day, we enthusiastically made plans to take a long walk on one of the many scenic trails in Hereford, a city not far from Northampton. We started off very eager, even going as far as buying two new jackets just for the walk (in case it rained, of course, nothing to do with looking for an excuse to shop). We wore our most comfortable trainers in preparation of miles of walking, stocked up on fluids, and once we had expertly understood the walking trail map, we set out.

The walk started off well enough, with me stopping now and again to take photographs, and Faisal stopping to taste dangerously poisonous looking berries and fruits, like he always insists on doing whenever we go for walks. But soon enough, we realised we were hopelessly lost. There were no longer any footpaths or any direction boards, and within minutes, we found ourselves in the middle of a very, very big corn field. The area was clearly not meant for the general public, but Faisal was confident we were going in the right direction, and insisted we walk through the field to reach the other end. And so we did. Big mistake. 

We ended up on the other end in a place which clearly looked like it was part of a horror movie. There were abandoned sheds, frightening scarecrows and dead rats and mice on every turn. I was convinced I was going to get murdered, and my thoughts immediately went to my laptop history, which would betray my addiction of the ridiculous ‘Weird or What?’ series I had been hooked on recently. No, I thought. NO! The world must never find out!

After reaching a clear dead end, which saw us come face to face with a huge pad-locked steel gate, covered in rust and terrifying looking insects, we finally turned around and made our way back to safety, convinced there was a creepy old man eyeing us from the shed, sharpening his tools and inventing new and torturous ways to murder us if we were to stay there any longer...

Lesson of the Day:
- When you decide to go on a hike, tag along with an experienced old couple (mostly white, because let's face it, who's ever seen an old Indian aunty on a hike). They'll usually have all their gear, including walking poles and heavy duty boots, and are usually more than happy to let you follow them. If they're not, well, there's nothing stopping you from stalking them. It may seem wrong to begin with, but the deeper and deeper you walk on a trail, the more right it will feel.