What can I say about the current situation we all find ourselves in?

It’s unprecedented, shocking and frightening for every single one of us, even more so if you are either working as a key worker, trying to fight this nasty virus or classed as ‘an extremely clinically vulnerable person’ (yes sadly I have the NHS letter labelling me as just that – not really a label I’m happy about).

I was lucky (if you can describe it that way) to have chemo number 6 (my last one) on the exact day that the schools closed and lockdown was announced a few days later. If I’m honest though, initially I didn’t feel lucky, I felt really cross about the whole thing. To me getting to the end of 18 weeks of chemo felt like a milestone in my treatment and something that was worthy of a small celebration – that opportunity had been taken away from me. Not only could I not have anyone with me for my last session but I couldn’t go for lunch or dinner with my family or friends to mark the occasion. On top of that I was facing a further 12 weeks of isolation and a possible delay to the remainder of my treatment. I was grumpy to say the least. Surprisingly, I hadn’t experienced much anger at all since my diagnosis but I did feel really pissed off with the Corona Virus and the ramifications it had on me personally.

I’m pleased to be able to report that the anger passed pretty quickly (I’m not really a person who stays cross for long) and it did make me reflect on why I felt so cross. I concluded that firstly, it was because as I approached my last chemo I had seen a light at the end of the tunnel which I felt had been extinguished. I only had 2 more obstacles to go and treatment would be finished, I could start getting back to normal and making plans for fun things instead of my life being full of constant hospital visits. Due to the virus the timeline of my remaining treatment was unknown.

Secondly, I realised very quickly that it was social interaction that had kept me going throughout my chemo. Seeing friends for coffee, lunch, or a walk between treatments had kept me smiling, focusing on the positive and not spending too long dwelling on things that shouldn’t be dwelled upon. This became even more apparent in the first week of lockdown when I felt pretty miserable about all of the niggly side effects that hadn’t previously bothered me. I realised that social interaction was a great distraction and without it, I had too much time to feel sorry for myself.

I accepted the fact that I will be isolated for 12 weeks pretty quickly (there is no point in fighting something outside of your control) and as the situation has become more grave over the last few weeks I am acutely aware that it is much worse for others than it is for me (as is always the case in life if you have the capacity to be objective). All those key workers going into work every day putting themselves and their families at risk so that we can eat, be treated and cared for are truly amazing and very brave.

When I stop and think about it, I still can’t quite believe that pretty much the whole world has stopped in its tracks and no one really knows for how long. As a ‘clinically vulnerable person’ it does scare me and I’m not one to scare easily or worry unnecessarily. I know I need to follow the rules (which I do) and maybe that’s why I’ve adapted quickly to lockdown. To be honest though, I’ve been constantly adapting my life for the last 6 months, I was no longer going out at night or drinking. I joked I was like an OAP – spending my time between, home, going out for lunch and the hospital – so lockdown was just a further extension of that for me.

It’s been interesting to see different people’s reactions to our current situation and also their willingness/ability to adapt. My boys seemed to have got used to the new ‘norm’ without too much of a struggle. Dave is finding it a bit more difficult. He’s been working from home alone for the last 6 months and I think continuing to do this but without the ability to get away from the same four walls (or faces) is bothering him. I keep reminding him that it’s easier to just go with what you can’t control rather than fighting it – God knows I’ve needed to learn that lesson over the last 6 months.

What is interesting about this lockdown situation is that almost everybody will experience it differently. There are so many factors that will contribute to an individual’s experience of it – their job, finances, living arrangements, relationship with their partner/children, their physical and mental health and their wider family members to name but a few. For that reason, it is almost impossible to predict the long-term effects this lockdown will have on us because what’s ok for one person will not be ok for another.

Having said all of that, there are always positives in every dark situation and I’ve already seen plenty. I’ve been amazed at how communities have rallied to look after their own – it’s heart-warming. I have also been impressed with the agility of the corporate world – from how quickly the large supermarkets have adapted their ways of working to how manufacturers have started making ventilators, masks and all sorts needed on the frontline.

It’s also great to see people talking to one another again instead of texting/messaging or PMing. Facetime and Zoom have come into their own and whilst digital interaction is not the same as human interaction, at times like this it comes a close second. Seeing people’s faces and expressions is better than just hearing their voices.

So, as we are about enter week 5 of lockdown, I am pleased to be able to say ‘I’m doing ok’ and whoever is reading this, I genuinely hope you are too. Friends who talk to me often say ‘I shouldn’t moan you’re in a much worse position than me’ but I always assure them that they are entitled to feel aggrieved, fed up, angry, sad, scared, whatever. Their lives have been disrupted (as has mine) and whatever anyone feels is genuine and always worthy of acknowledgement. The key then is to try and get yourself talked back into a positive place if possible.

There is good news on my treatment front too. My next (and hopefully last) operation (the 2^nd attempt to get clear margins on my 3^rd tumour) is this coming Thursday 23^rd April. Surgery has moved from Warwick Hospital, which has cases of Covid-19, to the Nuffield Hospital in Leamington. Providing all my tests (Blood, MRSA, Covid-19 and ECG) come back normal it will go ahead and I should only be in for half a day. I will then need to wait 8 weeks for the tissue to heal before they can start my radiotherapy. This means that for me, my treatment is on track at the moment which I am so grateful for.

Well it seems I have wittered on in this post more than any previous ones. It’s probably because I feel like I’m talking to you all – it’s clear I’m desperately missing my social interaction. I hope you and your loved ones are safe and well and if you are reading this and working as a key worker in any field then ‘thank you’ from me.

Stay safe and I’ll be back after the op.