Show your mettle

Riding the second wave

I've never been much of a surfer, but have fond memories of bodyboarding (with varying degrees of success) on family holidays in Bude, Cornwall. It was often a case of clinging on for dear life, never mind trying to steer myself out of danger. There will have been numerous people who never saw me coming - and I can only apologise for the bumps and scrapes I may have inflicted upon them. Perhaps undergoing chemotherapy is a little bit like bodyboarding, and maybe by the 8th time I've embraced the wave I will have some sort of idea what I am doing.

Wave 1 was curtailed due to a build up of side-effects, but this second time round has been more successful. At the time of writing I have completed 10 of the 14 days worth of tablets. More than the 4 I made it to last time. I have been able to better manage the side effects this time, stay largely hydrated and generally eat fairly well. Having said that, fatigue levels have been higher and most of the first week was spent in bed with no energy. I feel a bit dizzy and I ache - especially in my shoulders and eyes. It is still a mental challenge to swallow those 5 tablets after breakfast and dinner, but on the whole I am feeling positive. I've been able to enjoy the tennis from Wimbledon and watched a few matches at the women's football world cup.

I'm no Superman

One of the non-sporting tv programs I have been binge-watching is "Scrubs" - a medical comedy from about 15 years ago which I used to love. The theme tune is short and catchy and simply says "I can't do this all on my own. No, I know: I'm no Superman." They are words I endorse. In a way, it is easy to sit here and write positively and make myself look like a hero with the way I am dealing with my diagnosis and treatment. I've had people tell me how great an example I am, what an encouragement I am. Well, good! I am pleased. But the reality is that I am just doing my best to stay positive and take each day at a time. And as the song says - I can't do this all on my own.

My wife and best friend, Laura, is truly amazing. As tough as I am finding all this, it is also tough on her too. Nobody likes to see their loved ones in pain or suffer, especially when there isn't much you can do about it. But she is doing so much. Aside from getting the children to/from school every day, the washing, cooking, cleaning etc, she is managing a whole load of other things. Like my quirks of what food I feel I can stomach today. She has been planning for the summer holidays when the kids will be off and Daddy still won't be very well. She has been picking out books she think I will enjoy reading ("The Girl who saved the King of Sweden" was excellent and I am going to start "The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle" next week). This is not to mention dealing with the trauma of her work laptop dying (and the loss of a LOT of important files as a result) followed a day later by dropping her mobile down the toilet (she got a new one as a result, so maybe that was on purpose?!). They say that behind every great man is a great woman. Well, even behind this ordinary man is a great woman. She is a legend and I love her so much.

On one of my better days, I was able to make it up to see our kids in action at their school sports day. They were both thrilled to see their house team win the overall competition. In his last year before moving up to senior school (we will have all that stress and anxiety to add to our list in September!), our son is vice-captain and I was proud to see him encouraging the younger members of his team, run a great leg in the relay and hear about his exploits representing the school in the rounders team (he's rather good I gather).

Our daughter's sports day success was a total surprise to me. We had an idea that she would do well in the sack race after she showed us her technique one evening in the kitchen. But not only did she win that race, but also her straight sprint heat, even looking across at the rest of the field Usain Bolt style!

I am proud of both of our children and miss not sharing meals with them at the moment, or having the energy to do their bedtime routines. So on my recovery weeks, I intend to make those things a priority. It will be an interesting summer, with all of us at home - hopefully we can make the most of that rather than winding each other up.

Of course, there is a wider family who are right behind me too. Mum and Dad are visiting fairly often, helping with lifts to hospital appointments or giving Laura a bit of a break from the kids/me. My brother may be at the other end of the country, but I know he has my back. He will make a great Dad (can't wait to meet the little ray of sunshine that Chris and Jo have adopted). I've had words of encouragement, shared jokes and tears of laughter with cousins via WhatApp group chats. It all means so much.

Friends from church have offered to help with garden maintenance and offering further lifts to/from various appointments. So many have sent cards and are regularly praying. My friends and colleagues at work have also been fantastic. I've been taken out for lunch and am having a hard time fitting in all the requests for visitors. They organised a collection so they could do something for us as a family, and purchased an annual Merlin Family Pass, which gets us into places like Legoland, Thorpe Park, Chessington, Alton Towers and the London Eye. We were blown away by the generosity and thoughtfulness.

A Cathedral Gift

One friend from church visited a cathedral whilst on a trip and felt prompted to buy something for me from the gift shop. What she decided on was a little nugget with the word "COURAGE" on one side, and the reminder "You are not alone" on the reverse. She didn't know my family background, but I welled up when she told me that the cathedral she bought it from was in Sheffield and that the nugget was made out of steel. My Mum grew up in Sheffield and my grandfather worked in the steel industry.

I am not Wolverine - the Marvel hero with metal growing out of his body. But here was a reminder that I have a strong backbone of support. Around me has been assembled an army of encouragers and prayer-warriors. For the times when I feel like crumbling, I have so many people who love me and act as scaffolding, holding me up and keeping me together.

As if that wasn't enough, I know that Jesus is right with me in this. I could be better at listening to Him, but we talk regularly. Some might think it would be easy to be bitter, angry or resentful. Some would understand if I wanted to lash out at God for failing me, for allowing this to happen to me. But I don't see it that way. I choose to run into the everlasting arms of the creator and sustainer of the universe. I turn to my God and my King, who can do immeasurably more than I could ask or imagine. So I will show my mettle and steel myself for the weeks ahead, confident in the backing of those around me and eyes fixed on Jesus as we catch the next chemo wave together. Surf's up!